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air screw was driven by an engine powered by a chemical exothermic reaction…oxidation of a hydrocarbon fluid called 〃gas；〃 which it was not。 If you think this unlikely； I assure you that it was unlikely even then。 The method was woefully inefficient。 A flier was not only likely to run out of gas with nothing around him but ocean； but also this temperamental engine often coughed and quit。 Embarrassing。 Sometimes fatal。
The lesser drawbacks to being a fighter pilot were not all physical danger； they simply did not fit David's master plan。 Fighter pilots were assigned to floating aerodromes； or carriers。 In peacetime； which this nominally was； a flier did not work too hard nor stand many watches and spent much of his time ashore at a land aerodrome even though he was carried on the muster rolls of a carrier ship…thereby credited with sea duty； necessary for promotion and 。pay。
But for several weeks each year a ifier assigned to a carrier ship would actually be at sea； practicing mock warfare… which involved getting up an hour before dawn to warm those cantankerous engines and stand by ready to fly at the first hint of real or simulated danger。
David hated this…he would not willingly attend Judgment Day if it was held；before noon。
There was another drawback： landing on these floating aerodromes。 On land； David could land on a dime and give back change。 But that depended on his own skill； highly developed because his own skin was at stake。 But landing on a carrier depended on another pilot's skill…and David held a dark opinion of entrusting his skin to the skill； good intentions； and alertness of someone else。
Ira； this is so unlike anything you are likely to have seen in your life that I am at loss。 Consider your skyport here at New
Rome： In landing； a ship is controlled from the ground… right？ So it was with aeroplanes landing on carriers…but the analogy breaks down because a landing on a carrier in those days used no instruments。 None。 I'm not fooling。
It was done by eye alone； just as a boy in a game of catch snatches a ball out of the air…but David was the ball； and the
skill used ta catch him was not his own but that of a pilot standing on the carrier。 David had to suppress his own skill； his own opinions； and place utter faith in the pilot on the carrier…anything less brought disaster。
David had always followed his own opinion…against the whole world if necessary。 To place that much…faith in another man ran counter to his deepest emotions。 A carrier landing was like baring his belly to a surgeon and saying； 〃Go ahead and cut〃…when he was not sure that surgeon was petent to slice ham。 Carrier landing came closer to causing David to give up p3y…and…a…half and easy hours than any other aspect of flying； so torn was he by the necessity of accepting another pilot's decision…and one not even sharing his danger； at that！
It took all his willpower to do it the first time； and it never became easy。 But he learned one lesson that he never expected to learn…that is； that 。 there were circumstances in which another man's opinion was not only better than his own； but inparably better。
You see…no； perhaps you don't； I have not explained the circumstances。 An aeroplane landed on a carrier in a controHed crash； through a hook in its tail catching a wire rope stretched across the top deck。 But if the flier 'follows his own judgment based on experience in landing on a flying field； he is certain to crash into the stern of the ship…or； if he knows this and tries to allow for it； he will fly too high and miss the rope。 Instead of a big flat field and plenty of room for minor mistakes； he has only a tiny 〃w鉵dow〃 which he must hit precisely； neither right nor left； nor up nor down； nor too fast nor too slow。 l~ut he can't see what he is doing well enough to judge these variables correctly。
（Later on； the process was made semiautomatic； then automatic； but when it was finally perfected； carriers for aeroplanes were obsolete…a capsule description of most human 〃progress〃： By the time you learn how； it's too late。
（But it often turns out that what you have learned applies to some new problem。 Or we would still be swinging from trees。）
So the flier in the aeroplane must trust a pilot on deck who can see what is going on。 He was called 〃the landing signal officer〃 and used wigwag flags to signal orders to the aeroplane's pilot。
The first time David tried this unlikely stunt he chased around the sky three times for fresh approaches before he controlled his panic； quit trying to override the judgment of the LSO； and was allowed to land。
Only then did he discover how scared be was…his bladde cut loose。
That evening he was awarded a fancy certificate： the Roya Order of the Wet Diaper…signed by the ISO。 endorsed by hi squadron mander； ates。 It wa a low point in his life； worse than any his plebe year； and i was little consolation that the order was awarded so frequentl~ that certificates were kept ready and waiting for each nev group of still…damp ifiers。
From then on he was letter…perfect in following orders 01 landing signal officers； obeying like a robot； emotions and judg meat suppressed by a sort of autohypnosis。 When it came tim to qualify in night landings…much worse on the nerves a the pilot in the air couldn't see anything but lighted wands th LSO waves instead of flags…David landed perfectly on hi first approach。
David kept his mouth shut about his determination not t seek glory as a fighter pilot until he pleted all requirement~ to make permanent his flying status。 Then he put in a requesi for advanced training…in multiple…engine aircraft。 This ww embarrassing； as his instructor who thought so well of his po tential ander and it was necessar~ to submit this request through ；him。 Once the letter startec through the mill； he was called to his boss's stateroom。
〃Dave； what is this？〃
〃Just what it says； sir。 I want to learn to fly the big ones。'
〃Are… you out of your head？ You're a fighter pilot。 Threc months of this scouting squadron…one…quarter； so I can givc you a good Fitness Report…and you do indeed leave for ad vanced training。 As a fighter。〃
David didn't answer。 …
His squadron mander persisted。 〃Dave； are you frettinl over that silly 'Diaper Diploma'？ Half the pilots in the fleel have won it。 Hell； man； I've got one myself。 It didn't hurt yot with your shipmates； it just made you look human when yo~ were beginning to suffer from too tight a halo。〃
David still did not ment。
〃Damn it； don't just stand there！ Take this letter and teal it up。 Then submit one for fighter training。 I'll let you go now； instead of waiting three months。〃
Dave stood mute。 His boss looked at him and jurned red。 then said softly； 〃Maybe I was wrong。 Maybe you don'~ have what it takes to be a fighter…Mister Lamb。 That's all。 Dismissed。〃
In the 〃big ones；〃 the multiple…engine flying boats； David at last found his home。 They were too big to fly from a carrier at sea； instea