TIME
Randolph Field’s Major Harold L. Mace, directing plane movements by radio, felt his hide tighten. In his earphones came the voice of a cadet pilot reporting that he was almost out of gas. “Look around and see if you can find a good field to land in,” radioed Major Mace, with soothing professional calm. There was no reply. “What’s your position?” the Major asked, with less calm. A puzzled voice came in his earphones. “I’m on the ramp in front of Hangar C, right here at Randolph Field.”
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