Once in the airplane you start engines and immediately check to see that the ADF is pointing in the correct direction, as it is your sole navigation radio. When you, the copilot and radio operator are satisfied with everything, you feel your way to the runway. Though it's not long since you were a teen-ager, you know the Commando's foibles and taxi the beast with differential power and very occasional taps on brakes you consider hopelessly inadequate. You take a moment to again curse the engineer who decided not to put a steerable tailwheel on the world's largest twin-engine airplane. Your friends flying the smaller B-17 at least have an aircraft that is easy to handle on the ground.

The Army guys in the tower confirm your route clearance and your altitude, which is dictated by your destination. There are four Chinese bases and four altitudes eastbound for C-46s, a thousand feet apart, from 15,500 through 18,500 feet. You wouldn't mind being in a C-54 because they get the next 4 altitudes with more breathing room above the boulders, and they are heavenly flying airplanes; however, you are very glad you aren't in those pig Liberator conversions that get assigned to the high 20s for cruising altitudes as they take forever to get there and fly as poorly as they look. Precisely on the appointed minute, tower clears you to roll; something you and your loaded steed proceed to do for quite some time. Eventually you wallow noisily into the air, and transition immediately to instruments while being mildly curious as to how far over gross you are tonight as you tell the co-pilot to retract the gear and set max continuous power. You are thankful that this time at least the c.g. is probably close to the published range because you are not wildly out of trim as you settle in and thunder upward through the fire-hose intensity rain.

As captain, you will do all the flying, unless the autopilot decides to crap out. If it does, you'll let the aeronautical child in the right seat fly some during cruise, but never on takeoff, approach or landing. It is Army policy that you in the left seat are the brains of this operation, will do the flying and the kid (even if he is older than you) will sit there, be quiet and do as he's told.