Thought you'd meet me with a crash truck and fire engine?
No, sir, a whiskbroom and a dustpan.
- Get the instruments, will you? - Aye, aye, sir.
Works like a charm. I hoisted her back to 10 G and didn't even get hazy.
I'm afraid to say it, but we may have something.
I'm not afraid to say it.
- Aren't you a bit green to dive alone? - Yeah.
Ground's hard when you bounce a plane off of it.
But you see, with this belt, you won't.
Some real pilot better check it before we get excited.
Of course we're gonna check on it.
Test it, send it to Washington, ask them to equip other groups...
...so they can check it. - Fine. I hope it works out.
I envied you up there, Doug.
Being glued to the ground, I feel as if I'm doing only half the job.
What are you talking about? You do more than any two of us.
It's funny how a guy's mind works when he's up there flying.
Just before I put her into that dive, I kept thinking to myself:
"There's two kinds of blackout this belt may whip.
Our kind and the sort they're having over London right now. "
Up.
Down. Up.
- Down. Up. - Can we have a little music with this?
Down. Sure, what do you want? Some boogie-woogie? Up.
Down. That's enough. Sit down. Relax.
- Let me see the chart, will you? - Here.
All right. Your Schneider index seems too good to be true these days.
The result of clean living and high thinking.
Commander?
Dr. Rogers, how long do I have to keep on taking these Schneiders anyway?
I know it's a nuisance, but we have to track changes...
...in pulse and blood pressure.
It's one way of determining if you should continue flying.
I think it's a lot of bunk. Come on, Hill.
Is that all?
Look. Washington's approved the belt for further tests.
- It has? Swell. - Congratulations, doctor.
Washington doesn't care what it approves of these days.
When do we go? When do we start testing?
A couple carriers are due next month for a bombing problem.
Couldn't be better. That'll give us a chance to try it in group action.
- Better take a look at that chart. - Come on, Tim.
Go on and take those charts out of my hair.
Tim, I'd like to see you for a minute.
What's the matter? Haven't I bounced enough?
You better be in on this too, Joe.
Well, sounds like a tea party.
Hey, Lucky, she's back again.
Why don't somebody tell me when it's payday?
- Here we go again, boys! - Hey, look, you better be careful.
He's asleep, Mrs. James. He had a bad night.
He's got worse ones coming when he gets better.
We're doing all we can to get him back on his feet.
Just get him strong enough to sit up. I'll have more fun beating him on the head.
No, you see, the doctor says he's got: You see... for the patient's...
...and they get themselves laying in bed:
- Look. You see where it says "ward"? - Yeah.
Well, you take the D out and the... what have you got?
Piston rods. So you see, it'll never help you.
It will satisfy my soul.
That dame's crazy.
You're not going to recommend me for a waiver, are you?
- That's right. - The service can't lose a pilot like Tim.
Can't you wait, give him another Schneider?
- I don't believe that would do any good. - What do you know?
I can count, read a watch and a blood-pressure dial.
- What's wrong with me? - Pilot fatigue.
As far as flying's concerned, you're worn-out.
Like the works of an old watch.
What are you talking about? I can fly as well as I ever could.
Doug's right. There's no argument. This tells the story.
Here's a composite graph of Schneider indices in the cases of pilot fatigue.
This is the turning point. Tense irritability, nervousness.
You weren't in good shape when you reported. I ran extra Schneiders on you.
When Dr. Lee took over your group, I told him to continue with the tests.
Your Schneiders have been following this curve.
Last week, you were here. Now you're here.
In my book, that means you're washed-up with flying.
- For how long? - Maybe months. Maybe forever.
I can't get by without my flight pay. I have a wife and kids to support.
- You can't do that on peanuts. - These things are never easy on anyone.
I won't take any grounding from you.
If the Navy doesn't want experienced pilots, I know who does.
If you're smart, stay out of airplanes.
Stick around a couple months. See what happens.
Why stick around and get turned down again?
That's nice going.
I don't know how we ever got along around here without you.
Don't resign, Tim. I can fit you into a good ground job.
You know there's no such thing as a good ground job.
I'd go crazy every time a plane flew past.
What's this other thing?
Same thing you'd do if you were kicked out.
- Smoke? - I got one.
Why didn't you make him stop flying sooner? Take a rest?
Because flying is like adrenaline to tense pilots.
Take it away, and they fold up.
So you keep them flying, try to coax them back on their feet.
But when the fatigue becomes chronic, they're usually through.
I know you hated it. This is a hard business.
A flight surgeon has to face the truth, and often, it isn't very pleasant.
It certainly isn't.
Well, I guess I should have followed my mother's fondest wish.
She wanted me to be a violinist.
They all pulled out clean. Twelve minutes and 15 seconds.
That's really bombing.
A little less doubtful about the belt now, commander?
Real pilots used the belt, found it's all right.
The belt flew the planes and aimed the bombs for them.
It'll probably make coffee for them when they get out.
I think we can forget about blackouts from now on.
Get stretchers and take them to sickbay.
It must be high-altitude sickness.
If it is, it's worse than blackout. The unsolved problem.
Better not stay unsolved for long.
If it does, my mother will get more than her wish. We'll both wind up violinists.
Royal Air Force fighter, landing on field.
It's the RAF. He's way off his beat.
Hey, that's a nice job.
I'd hate to have that on my tail in a dogfight.
- Say, isn't that Tim Griffin? - Yeah.
Commander Blake.
- Hi, fella. - Hi, boy.
Commander Blake, Tim's back. He just brought in that RAF fighter.
- Hi, Tim! - How are you, Tim?
Hi, sailor! How are you?
- Well, how are you, sailor? - Tim, what brought you down here?
I picked it up in L.A., ferried it to Canada.
Took a detour to see how you were doing without me.
We're doing all right. Look at that uniform.
How do you like that?
They call me the Beau Brummell of Montreal.
- How about some gas? - Got a credit card?
- I just sign the bill "Winston C." - Okay. Now, fill her up.
- Don't touch the motor. It's perfect. - Nothing else, Tim?
- I'll take anything that isn't nailed down. - How's a spot of tea?
- And a hamburger? - Right.
Well, look here. How are you?
Aren't you pretty.
I'm looking for a beauty contest to enter.
Next month, I go on transatlantic bomber ferry.
Each pilot flies his own ship over, one plane brings them back.
It's real dough. A hundred pounds' bonus a hop, and four and five hops a month.
A thousand bucks a month?
Yeah. If any of you guys want a job, just let me know.
Hey, what's the lowdown on the RAF fighter squadrons?
Nobody chases ships anymore. They're too fast.
You pick out an enemy, dive on them and hose them with eight machine guns.
If you don't drop him down, keep going. Look for another pushover.
Altitude's the answer. Forty to 45,000 feet.
The guy on top wins all the marbles. I've got to roll, Joe. Check.
Oh, no. This one's on Uncle Sam.
You mean, Uncle Joe. Okay.
Oh, hello, doctor. You remember me?
Worn-out, rundown "like the works of an old watch"?
- Sure. How are you? - Still flying, no thanks to you.
But I thank you for kicking me into a better job.
I hope all of my mistakes turn out that well.
They might if your patients get away from you early enough. I was lucky.
I hope your luck holds, chum.
In fact, I wish you all the luck in the world.
Well, thanks for those few kind words.
Come on, Joe. So long, sailors.
- Ninety gallons. - Ninety gallons.
Ninety gallons, and charge it to Winston C.
Thanks.
I'll smoke one of my own.
- Sort of miss the old gang, don't you? - Yep.
The days you and Swede and I flew together were the happiest in my life.
We can't live them over, but they're sure swell to look back on.
This is all right.
Great bunch of people up there and on the other side...
...but I'd rather be a pilot in the Navy...
...with you as my skipper than anything on earth.
Thanks, Tim. Right back at you.
- Say, how have you been feeling, really? - Oh, fine. Fine, Joe.
Of course, I get woozy now and then after too many hours in the air.
That's why I break these ferry trips up into short jumps.
Where do you land? San Francisco or Medford?
I'll go on to Seattle. That's an easy hop.
- So long, Joe. It's been swell. - Take care of yourself, sailor.
Thanks.
RAF fighter. Griffin, pilot. San Diego for Seattle.
Please notify San Francisco, Medford and destination.
Expected time of arrival, 5: 10. That is all.
Let me know when he passes San Francisco and Medford...
...and when he arrives in Seattle. - Aye, aye.
Mr. Griffin passed Medford.
Both Seattle and Vancouver are calling him now. He doesn't answer.
- Thank you. Take over. - Aye, aye.
- Larson. Smith. - Here, sir.
San Francisco calling Griffin in RAF fighter.
Medford calling RAF fighter. Griffin, pilot. Griffin, answer Medford.
Seattle calling Griffin.
This is Vancouver. Griffin, RAF fighter, answer Vancouver.
San Francisco to Medford.
Have you checked all emergency fields north of your station?
Medford to San Francisco. It's gone out by Teletype. We're on the phone now.
Medford to all stations. Medford to all stations.
RAF fighter. Griffin, pilot. Attempted to land at emergency field 26.
He made a normal approach, but misjudged his altitude...
... and hooked a wing against a hangar. The ship is a washout.
The pilot was instantly killed. That is all.
San Francisco to all stations.
Resume regular routine.
Think we should've denitrogenated Elmer before taking him up to 25,000 feet?
He'd look cute riding a stationary bicycle...
...trying to work the nitrogen out of his system.
I think that whole decompression theory is much overdone.
I'm inclined to agree with you.
I've heard you want human guinea pigs...
...for your low-pressure research. - We do.
I'd like to volunteer for the job.
Also as pilot for your high-altitude work, when you get to it.
That's great, but I thought you felt our work was a waste of time.
I guess I've been wrong about a couple of things.
The pressure belt and Tim Griffin.
- Can you use me? - I'll say we can. We'll let you know.
Thanks.
Start reducing pressure.
A thousand feet.
Five thousand.
Ten thousand.
Twenty-five thousand.
- That's it. - Elmer can take it.
Take him up to 40,000. If he's all right, we'll try it on humans.
Okay.
- Good morning. - Good morning, sir.
This is human guinea-pig experiment 32.
Its purpose is to study how the lack of oxygen...
...affects your ability to coordinate rapid movements.
I appreciate your volunteering for this experiment, and good luck. All right.
Just sit down anywhere, gentlemen, and adjust your oximeters on your ear.
That will show the amount of oxygen in your bloodstream.
Now, I think you understand about this chamber.
It's for reproducing the conditions of flying at high altitude.
We do this by pumping out the air inside and gradually reducing the pressure.
The higher the altitude, the more trouble you'll have...
...coordinating your movements so that you can fly properly.
We're ready.
Mac's in chair number one. Abbott's in two.
Anthony's in three. Blake in four.
- All right. Start reducing pressure. - Aye, sir.
Now, follow the movement of the lights with your controls.
By lining the green light with the red...
...you indicate your ability to coordinate.
Five thousand feet.
Five thousand.
Six thousand.
Seven thousand.
Eight thousand.
Nine thousand.
Ten thousand.
Eleven thousand.
The pressure now corresponds to 12,000 feet.
Put on oxygen masks.
Thirteen thousand.
I don't need any oxygen yet.
Tough guy Anthony says he doesn't need oxygen.
All right, but watch him.
Sixteen thousand.
Is Joe's equipment properly set?
- Nineteen thousand. - Yes, it is.
Twenty thousand feet.
Twenty thousand feet. Going up.
Twenty-one thousand.
Twenty-two thousand.
Twenty-four thousand.
Twenty-five thousand.
Take a deep breath.
Once more.
Twenty-seven thousand.
Twenty-eight thousand.
How do you feel, tough guy?
- Twenty-nine thousand. - Never felt better.
Thirty thousand feet.
Thirty-one thousand.
Thirty-two thousand.
Better check Joe again.
Thirty-five thousand.
- Thirty-six thousand. - That better?
- You said it. - Thirty-seven thousand.
Lance, that setting wasn't adequate for a man of his size. I increased it.
We're just under 40,000 feet. Let me hear heartbeats.
Let me hear Blake's.
All right. Give me another one. Someone who's had a full supply of oxygen.
Cut the motor.
Forty thousand.
Now, let's see how long you can stand this pressure.
Start to increase pressure.
We're coming down. Watch your ears.
What a hop.
Start rubbing it hard.
Aeroembolism.
Feels like a duffle bag full of jelly.
All right, try it now.
- Is that better? - Yeah.
Report to the lab for x-ray pictures.
Thank you very much, gentlemen, for being such cooperative rabbits.
I wish we could reward you, but we're fresh out of lettuce.
Look straight.
All right.
There's a suggestion of gas bubbles in this knee joint too.
Every case we've tested has shown strong evidence of bubble formation.
The higher the altitude, the stronger the evidence becomes.
See? No mistaking that.
Maybe flying should just be restricted to 35,000 feet, and let it go at that.
We can't. In flying, the sky's the limit.
A fighter has to be able to get above the other fella.
If you restrict altitude, you're not making progress.
That's right. We've got to find the cause of high-altitude sickness.
Whether it's partly bubbles or entirely lack of oxygen.
All we've been able to find out is that pilots need oxygen above 12,000 feet.
We don't know what high-altitude sickness is, but we know how to stop it.
Keep the pilots at sea-level pressure, no matter how high they go.
- When is that pressure-cabin job ready? - Four, five days.
Your pressure cabin might be fine for big ships. Weight doesn't matter.
For the small fighter, the extra weight will knock 5000 feet off your ceiling.
- We'll find out. Let's see blood counts. - You need a close-fitting pressure suit.
You can't put a pilot in armor. He'd be too stiff to move.
- He could move if it had flexible joints. - Ventilation would be a problem.
The pilot would snuff out like that.
- I don't believe you can do it. - Why does it have to be armor?
Wait a minute. I think Blake's got something there.
Look, If we design it like this, on the principle of a diving suit...
...with flexible joints here, yet capable of holding oxygen inside...
...I think we'll have something. Look.
I'd like to work on it with you if you're willing.
- It's okay with me. - While you're knitting your union suit...
...I'll go right ahead with the pressure-cabin job.
You're wanted in the office right away.
Fifty new cadets are assigned to your squadron.
- Who assigned them? - I don't know, sir. I didn't.
Fifty? Why do they keep shoving them at me?
What do they think I do? Wave a magic wand and make fliers out of them?
Joe's pretty irritable lately.
You may have noticed it. Joe's Schneider chart's been missing.
Yeah, I did.
I didn't want it known that he's been on the pilot fatigue curve lately.
Dropped to two this morning. He's almost reached the chronic line.
That means we've got to get another man for our high-altitude work.
That might be the worst possible move. He still has a fair chance for recovery.
It will be tough on him after all the work he's done.
Is he worried about something else?
No, but I think Griffin's death hit him pretty hard.
Besides, he's tense, nervous as a cat, works all the time.
- Doesn't know how to play. - You could help him with that.
Me? I doubt that.
Wait a minute.
I've got a clue.
- Maybe I can, at that. - Good.
Hey, Lucky.
- I've got a job for you. - Aye, aye, sir.
Hey, Lucky, lower your boom.
Tugboat Annie's back again with a full head of steam.
Ain't a guy got no privacy in this man's Navy?
You can't see him, Mrs. James. He's gotten lower.
He couldn't get any lower than he was. Where is the snake?
- In an oxygen tent with four nurses. - That sounds like him.
I bet they're all blonds. Are they? Are they all blonds?
No, male nurses. We're trying to pull him through the crisis.
Better get him pulled by next payday, or I'm going to the admiral.
Mrs. James?
I...
I was just wondering if I couldn't sort of help you with the admiral?
You know him?
Truthfully, no. But he and a friend of mine are very good pals.
I thought we could discuss it somewhere sometime.
Perhaps tonight for dinner? About 7?
- Well, I don't know. - 7:30?
I suppose it'll be all right, seeing how I'm practically a widow.
Your husband's in a bad way, and we could discuss the various arrangements.
Well, I live at the Blue Horizon Apartments.
I'll meet you in the lobby. Make it 7. And please don't be late.
I'm always on time. You see, I... for the Navy.
I can... traditions, you know.
People talking about the state.
I walk through... Boy Scouts. But:
That's nice. So am I. I'll see you later.
Okay, Lucky, all clear.
Hey, what's wrong with you, bud?
Measles.
What's yours?
- Why is this door open? - Well, I was going...
What are you doing in there?
I was checking things to see if everything's shipshape for inspection.
There's measles in that ward. You'll have to stay in Isolation.
My sister's in town, and if I could see her tonight...
...then I'd come back and have my measles in peace.
You can see her in 21 days. Take care of him.
- Aye, aye, sir. - What am I gonna do for 21 days?
I wouldn't pay any attention to the captain, Lucky.
What if you are... and people bring you...?
You can have: What can you lose?
It's healthy:
I'll even bring you my socks. You can darn them.
You understand that Navy property is valuable, don't you?
You took the risk of cracking up your plane by landing on field seven.
- Your orders were clear, am I right? - Yes, sir, but I...
You haven't answered my question.
You made the landing in emergency field number seven against orders. Why?
I wanted to try landing in a small field, sir.
You tried it and cracked up your plane. You weren't ready for it.
I wasn't ready for the wheelbarrow left on the runway.
Otherwise, I made a perfect three-point landing.
You can try one on the washout board at 4:00. You're through.
That's all.
Too bad about that kid. He had the makings of a great pilot.
Yeah, for a circus. The Navy has no place for stuntmen.
That's funny. I always thought you did quite a bit of stunting yourself once.
A long time ago, for publicity purposes.
The Navy has changed since then.
Well, it just seemed too bad, after all that time you spent on him, to lose it.
I'll bet a month's pay that you got your ears pinned back for the same thing.
- Who told you that? - Nobody. That's the kind of guy you are.
Why don't you give him another chance. He thinks you're great.
All you have to do is talk to him to straighten him out. How about that?
You're the nosiest guy I ever met, and it's always in my business.
- I'll give him one more chance. - Swell.
Thanks. And while you're in the same mood, I'd like to ask one more favor.
- What is it? - Remember my pal Linda Fisher?
She's getting into town with a friend. Help me out?
No soap, I got a lot of work to do.
What's her friend look like?
I've never known Navy fliers, but I know lots of Army fliers.
They're loads of fun.
That's very interesting.
- Did you miss me dreadfully? - Miss you? Oh, I could hardly stand it.
Isn't that pleasant? How long have I been gone?
How long? Must have been weeks, wasn't it?
Weeks? I've been gone for months, you foul creature.
You haven't heard a word I've said.
- Are all Navy men so absent-minded? - Yeah. No, no.
Hey, Lee, it just hit me.
I know how we can control the pressure and oxygen in that suit.
Globe valves with fine threads on the spindles.
- Wouldn't work, I don't think. - Yes, it would work. I'll show you.
- Are they all like that? - He seems to infect them.
Unfair to organized womanhood.
Maybe if we extended this flange down a little farther.
It won't do it, Joe. The movements to the valve aren't fine enough.
You'll either get a slight trickle of oxygen or a whole slug of it all at once.
You've got to have a smooth, fine, hairline control.
How about a shampoo and finger wave?
You know, I fly too, but I'm not such a bore about it.
I can talk about other things now and then.
We'll have to find somebody to invent a new valve.
I'll try if you've got another screwdriver.
Excuse me.
That shade won't be becoming to you.
Joe? Look.
A slide valve with a fine screw on the stem.
Each turn opens it just a hair.
This is it.
Sure, that's got it. Look.
If we design something like this, have the outlet...
Will you gentlemen excuse us, please?
Helen, not so loud. You might wake them up.
- And I said they'd be exciting. - I'm disappointed in the Navy.
It's getting so a girl can't compete with nuts and bolts.
Well, there's always the Marine Corps.
May I help you?
Yes.
This valve engages this gadget, we're off to the races.
- Have we overlooked anything? - No.
- Dr. Lee? - Yeah.
Mrs. Fisher asked me to give you this with a message.
Thanks.
"Home Mechanics Magazine."
- What was the message? - Sailors, you're an awful bore
Valves to you We've gone ashore
We don't like quarrels We don't like scenes
The Navy's too busy We'll try the Marines
These pressure-cabin jobs are tricky. Sure you understand all the controls?
- Pressure, oxygen, humidity, temperature? - Certainly.
Don't look toward the sun when you get up. Its rays will blind you in that thin air.
Thanks. So long.
Why do we need oxygen masks in a pressure cabin?
- We don't. - What did we bring them along for?
Force of habit, I guess.
Just over 35,000 feet.
- How do you feel? - I'm getting a little woozy.
Why can't we keep the pressure up?
Can't and still ventilate.
Supercharger is full on.
It's no good at this height.
What's our next move?
I don't know. Maybe we better get out and walk.
Thirty-six thousand.
Picking up ice.
She's sweating.
Thirty-eight thousand.
I can't balance the temperature and humidity.
She's sluggish on the controls.
Too much ice.
The de-icer's frozen.
Give me oxygen.
I guess I left you for a few minutes.
- Are you all right? - Yeah. I'll take it.
Swing low, sweet chariot. I heard the horn that time.
- What horn? - Gabriel's.
This is about the most attractive piece of ground I ever stood on.
Yeah, we almost bought 6 feet of it apiece.
Cigarette?
Yeah. Thanks.
It's gonna be tough on Art.
Well, it wasn't exactly a picnic for us.
Thanks.
- How'd it go? - Make a nice ice wagon, Art.
- That's about all. - Took two of us to handle the controls.
We were busier than one-armed paperhangers and twice as cold.
Cabin's too damp. It sweats and gathers ice by the ton.
- Outside of that, it's perfect. - For everything but flying.
Well, I guess that's that.
Here's where we're starting all over again.
Send me a full report.
I'm glad you got it down all right.
Thanks, so are we. Can I interest you in our pressure suit?
You're going to have less luck with that than you had with my pressure cabin.
This puts the whole problem right in your laps, boys.
Fine. It's right where we want it.
- Is this where the oxygen line goes in? - It fits here. There's a slide valve for it.
- Where does your microphone plug in? - Here.
There's a communication system built in the helmet.
- You can see it. - Oh, I see.
Lieutenant, this is gonna look just like a diver's helmet.
Well, we don't care if it looks like a birdcage, just so that it works.
Here's your oxygen line right here.
44,500.
44,700.
45,000. There it is.
That's enough. It's time to come down.
Cut the motor. Open the pressure valves wide.
- Get the valves in the back. - Aye, sir.
You'd be in horrible shape if a mosquito got in there with you, wouldn't you?
- How was it? - Great, except I feel like a fish in a bowl.
Fine. Lift it off easy.
- How did the valves work? - Like a charm.
It was worth losing two dames over.
I'll fly this suit to 50,000 if I have to climb hand over hand.
I better check on your ticker anyway.
- Breathe normally. - I'm all right.
Considering its weight, it's pretty comfortable.
I like to hear that.
Wouldn't like to play tennis in it, would you?
Let me butt in here.
Listen, boys, I think you really got something here.
I guess that's all. Come, I want to take a Schneider on you.
- Why? - Just to keep the practice.
Lance, you can't do it that way.
You can't hand a man a piece of paper with that kind of news in it.
It's too cold-blooded.
If you got a better idea, I'm willing to listen. You can't send it to him.
I suppose not. That would be worse.
Everything's all set.
The ship's raring to go.
- Cigarette? - No, thanks.
- Lance? - No, thanks.
You boys gonna be out there with a band to see me off?
Well, what's eating you guys?
One of your rabbits got the pip?
No.
I was just discussing it with Lance...
...and it would be better if you didn't make this hop.
No, this one's my baby.
What's the difference who makes the test?
- You know the suit will work. - You mean, we think it will work.
Come on, level with me.
I smell some kind of a runaround.
No, there's no runaround. It's...
I wish I could think of some other way, but I can't.
Your Schneider hit the chronic-fatigue line this morning.
We checked it every way. Twenty times, backwards and forwards. No mistake.
You mean, I'm washed-up.
No, no. I wouldn't put it that way.
A man of your experience is always gonna be valuable in the service.
So what if you have to give up flying a while?
- You can keep running your squadron. - Yeah.
I'll be a great example for those boys, parked in the office with my knitting.
I guess it had to happen sooner or later.
It's tough to get yanked out of the ring when the main event is about to start.
- After you've trained all your life. - You've trained plenty of other guys.
If and when the main event does start, they'll be in there pitching.
Sure. Sure they will.
Well...
...it was a good show while it lasted.
I would like to have finished this pressure-suit job...
...before the rocking chair got me.
- Is that my diploma? - Yeah.
I better take it just to make it official.
Say, do you know...
...some other man who can do this test job for us?
Yeah. Yeah, I'll have a good pilot for you.
Thanks.
Joe.
I wish there was something I could say...
...but there never is, is there?
Commander Blake.
Yes?
I just wanted to thank you for giving me another chance.
- Forget it. - It's meant a lot to train under you, sir.
Thanks. Just remember one rule, Anthony:
As a pilot, fight to be on top and stay there.
- You can't lick them from below. - I won't forget that, sir.
- Is she ready? - Yes, sir.
- Pull her out. - All right, boys. Pull her out.
Just a minute, sir. There seems to be something wrong.
There, that's got it.
How'd he take it?
Not as hard as I thought he would.
That doesn't sound like Joe Blake.
No. Rotten job, though.
- Who's in that plane that just took off? - Lieutenant Commander Blake, sir.
I want to contact Lieutenant Commander Blake. He's in 6FOX4.
Very well.
San Diego, calling Lieutenant Commander Blake in 6FOX4.
This is Blake in 6FOX4. Go ahead.
Joe, this is Doug. What the devil do you think you're doing?
I'd say I'm doing about 250 at 26,000 and going up.
Are you...? Don't try to take that ship to its ceiling.
Why not? That was the whole idea.
I want to prove this. Then you can turn me out to pasture.
Listen, you're in no shape to fly. You've been grounded.
I can't hear you, pal. The neighbors are playing the radio.
Joe, this is Lance. Don't be a fool. Come on down.
Twenty-eight thousand. This suit works like a charm.
We should open a tailor shop for angels.
Joe, that's high enough. You've done the job.
Now head up for the stable.
I can't do a thing. She's got the bit in her teeth.
Look...
...the skipper's come in the room. He's here with us.
He's ordering you to land.
Tell him he shouldn't be hanging around the radio tower. It's undignified.
Thirty thousand.
Life begins at 40.
Listen to reason, you crazy idiot.
You guys are wasting my breath. I'll see you later.
Joe.
Switched off. Might as well argue with a wall.
That ship's out of control.
Sound the crash alarm.
"Heat oxygen line to prevent ice.
Suit perfect then. "
The sole purpose in forming for this ceremony...
...is to honor the men who, during the year, have done the most for the service.
So it's my privilege to make an award of this trophy...
...for the year's outstanding achievement in aviation.
And so we honor two flight surgeons...
...Lieutenant Commander Rogers and Lieutenant Lee...
...whose professional skill has made possible...
...the effective work of our finest pilots and best planes.
These men have been instrumental in solving some of the greatest problems...
...in aviation medicine.
They've been more than faithful to the flight surgeon's creed:
"Keep them in the air. "
We also honor the memory of Lieutenant Commander Joseph Blake...
...who heroically sacrificed his life in first testing the pressure suit.
His supreme sacrifice was not made in vain.
It insured that the planes and pilots of this nation...
...can more safely fly, fight and defend their country in the stratosphere.
Lieutenant Lee.
I accept this, sir, on behalf of my friend and coworker...
...Lieutenant Commander Blake.
A very gallant gentleman.
And salute.
Pilots, man your planes.
Lieutenant?
I've been ordered to stay on duty as an instructor.
Any time you need a guinea pig for future research...
...I'd like to carry on Blake's work.
That will be fine. We'll let you know.
And, sir, the pilots would like to have you make this hop with us, if you wish.
Thanks. Thanks. I would like to.
Subtitles by SDI Media Group
Ripped by: SkyFury