Leading Aircraftsman John Jacob Birky was one of ten American pilot trainees to commence training with the first course at No. 9 SFTS Centralia. Prior to the United States entry into World War II, thousands of Americans enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force. On September 30, 1942, Birky departed from the airport on a solo night flying exercise. Shortly after take-off, Anson 7573 which Birky was piloting struck ground in an almost laterally level position, bounced, struck a fence, cartwheeled through trees and caught fire on the farm of Murray Dixon. Awakened by the crash, Dickson and John Hotson rushed to the burning aircraft and pulled Birky to safety. Birky sustained very severe extensive third degree burns of both legs and lower part of trunk with muscle layers exposed in many places. He was given three-one quarter grains of morphine at the scene of the crash before emergency crews transported him to the station hospital where he was admitted at 12:05 midnight- approximately 35 minutes after the accident. In the next eight hours, Birky was given nearly 1000 cc of blood serum. A call went out to his family in Valparaiso, Indiana informing them of their son’s dire condition. They were told by a Station official, “If you want to see your son alive, come immediately.” Birky became irrational; his pulse was thready and fast, eventually becoming imperceptible. Death occurred at 8:12 a.m. Soon after, Mr. and Mrs. Birky received another telephone call informing them of their son’s death. The entire class turned out for a service in memory of their fallen comrade. Birky’s body was escorted back to his home in Indiana by William George, a fellow American on course who was also a resident of Indiana. An accident investigation concluded that with limited night flying experience, Birky allowed his aircraft to get out of control, then crash. The investigation couldn’t determine the cause for loss of control of the aircraft. The Accident Investigation Board recommend that student pilots at twin engine Service Flying Training Schools be given a periodic check at intervals of every two or three hours throughout their night flying training. Sadly, Birky became one of almost 800 brave young Americans who were killed while serving with the RCAF during the Second World War. A special ceremony was held February 12, 1944, at No. 9 to present Murray Dixon and John Hotson with the British Empire Medal for their heroic actions in rescuing Birky from the burning aircraft. John Birky enlisted in the RCAF at Windsor, Ontario on November 27, 1941. The interviewing officer concluded that Birky was, “Good type. Ambitious. Good flying experience. Keen to continue flying and play his part.” The Chief Supervisory Officer at 12 EFTS Goderich assessed Birky as, “Pleasant, good all round type. Hard worker and has leadership qualities. Inclined to worry unduly. Night vision low average." In July 2000, Rev. Ken Birky and his wife travelled from their home in Indiana to retrace John Birky's time training at Centralia
Ed Hawkes RCAF American Volunteer: Jack Pequegnat, my elementary instructor at Goderich, said if I had not done any previous flying I wouldn’t have to unlearn the bad habits I had picked up. He sure was a good guy, patient and very thorough in explaining and demonstrating what I was required. I remember the food at Goderich. It was out of this world. There was a great big French cook. He made fresh tomato soup. I haven’t eaten anything like it since. While training at No. 9 SFTS Centralia fellow American John Birky was killed. We were all quite startled and rather sobered by it in the fact that it could happen. Up to that time it was fun and games and we were having a good time and these are pretty nice aircraft to fly. I don’t think that death ever crossed anybody’s mind – and then bang, to have him go like that. We didn’t have too much time to think about John Birky’s loss. They really had the ground school laid out. If you weren’t in ground school you were flying. There really wasn’t time for much of anything. There was always some reading to do at night. You never seemed to be totally caught up. It was mostly just plain hard work. When I got my wings, I figured I was a number one hotshot! I sort of didn’t believe it for a while – it was just too good to be true. The biggest surprise was when I got a commission on top of that. I thought it was pretty good for a small town boy. I had a notion that Chuck Folsom, my American instructor at Centralia had been at Annapolis and had been asked to leave for raising hell. He later confirmed this. Chuck was called by his contemporaries, ‘Big Chief’. I think his method of instructing developed a close relationship between us. We’d take off for example, and he’d say, “Now this is the way to do it – you get lined up right down the middle of the runway and cage the directional gyro and set it to zero or set it to the heading – set it on ninety if you were going east or eighteen if you were going south – whatever it happened to be. This is the way you do it and this is the way you want to open the throttle – he’d do the whole thing and make a circuit and downwind bash down some flap and so on. He’d do the whole thing and then he’d say, “You go ahead and have a ‘go. I would and did fairly well at it. I think we got along. His method of teaching was don’t get excited and take it easy- nothing drastic is going to happen. It was very reassuring, really, because he certainly was the perfect personification of confidence if nothing else. He certainly could fly and fly extremely well. I think it was the non-screaming low key approach. So many other guys had instructors who would almost get hysterical. They’d get so excited if you did something the least bit wrong. I think it was pretty easy on that score simply because he was so relaxed and it just kind of “transmitted” - easy going and calm but absolutely in control of everything. We used to twit each other on account of our accents. He used to call me ‘Ayid’ for Ed. Being from Kentucky, he really did have a southern drawl. I felt as though I was treated like a Canadian, and I don’t think there is anything I can add to that. I don’t really think that there was any distinct American-Canadian association. In fact, I don’t recall that the subject of who you were or where you came from came up very often. I don’t know how it felt to wear a U.S.A. shoulder flash because mine said Canada. Without doubt, it was the experience of a lifetime. I'm glad I went. The only regret is not finishing a tour but that's pretty small stuff compared to the reason; the end of the war. If only I had gone sooner ..., if, if if!!”
Course 61
Leading Aircraftsman John Jacob Birky was one of ten American pilot trainees to commence training with the first course at No. 9 SFTS Centralia. Prior to the United States entry into World War II, thousands of Americans enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force. On September 30, 1942, Birky departed from the airport on a solo night flying exercise. Shortly after take-off, Anson 7573 which Birky was piloting struck ground in an almost laterally level position, bounced, struck a fence, cartwheeled through trees and caught fire on the farm of Murray Dixon. Awakened by the crash, Dickson and John Hotson rushed to the burning aircraft and pulled Birky to safety. Birky sustained very severe extensive third degree burns of both legs and lower part of trunk with muscle layers exposed in many places. He was given three-one quarter grains of morphine at the scene of the crash before emergency crews transported him to the station hospital where he was admitted at 12:05 midnight- approximately 35 minutes after the accident. In the next eight hours, Birky was given nearly 1000 cc of blood serum. A call went out to his family in Valparaiso, Indiana informing them of their son’s dire condition. They were told by a Station official, “If you want to see your son alive, come immediately.” Birky became irrational; his pulse was thready and fast, eventually becoming imperceptible. Death occurred at 8:12 a.m. Soon after, Mr. and Mrs. Birky received another telephone call informing them of their son’s death. The entire class turned out for a service in memory of their fallen comrade. Birky’s body was escorted back to his home in Indiana by William George, a fellow American on course who was also a resident of Indiana. An accident investigation concluded that with limited night flying experience, Birky allowed his aircraft to get out of control, then crash. The investigation couldn’t determine the cause for loss of control of the aircraft. The Accident Investigation Board recommend that student pilots at twin engine Service Flying Training Schools be given a periodic check at intervals of every two or three hours throughout their night flying training. Sadly, Birky became one of almost 800 brave young Americans who were killed while serving with the RCAF during the Second World War. A special ceremony was held February 12, 1944, at No. 9 to present Murray Dixon and John Hotson with the British Empire Medal for their heroic actions in rescuing Birky from the burning aircraft. John Birky enlisted in the RCAF at Windsor, Ontario on November 27, 1941. The interviewing officer concluded that Birky was, “Good type. Ambitious. Good flying experience. Keen to continue flying and play his part.” The Chief Supervisory Officer at 12 EFTS Goderich assessed Birky as, “Pleasant, good all round type. Hard worker and has leadership qualities. Inclined to worry unduly. Night vision low average." In July 2000, Rev. Ken Birky and his wife travelled from their home in Indiana to retrace John Birky's time training at Centralia
Ed Hawkes RCAF American Volunteer: Jack Pequegnat, my elementary instructor at Goderich, said if I had not done any previous flying I wouldn’t have to unlearn the bad habits I had picked up. He sure was a good guy, patient and very thorough in explaining and demonstrating what I was required. I remember the food at Goderich. It was out of this world. There was a great big French cook. He made fresh tomato soup. I haven’t eaten anything like it since. While training at No. 9 SFTS Centralia fellow American John Birky was killed. We were all quite startled and rather sobered by it in the fact that it could happen. Up to that time it was fun and games and we were having a good time and these are pretty nice aircraft to fly. I don’t think that death ever crossed anybody’s mind – and then bang, to have him go like that. We didn’t have too much time to think about John Birky’s loss. They really had the ground school laid out. If you weren’t in ground school you were flying. There really wasn’t time for much of anything. There was always some reading to do at night. You never seemed to be totally caught up. It was mostly just plain hard work. When I got my wings, I figured I was a number one hotshot! I sort of didn’t believe it for a while – it was just too good to be true. The biggest surprise was when I got a commission on top of that. I thought it was pretty good for a small town boy. I had a notion that Chuck Folsom, my American instructor at Centralia had been at Annapolis and had been asked to leave for raising hell. He later confirmed this. Chuck was called by his contemporaries, ‘Big Chief’. I think his method of instructing developed a close relationship between us. We’d take off for example, and he’d say, “Now this is the way to do it – you get lined up right down the middle of the runway and cage the directional gyro and set it to zero or set it to the heading – set it on ninety if you were going east or eighteen if you were going south – whatever it happened to be. This is the way you do it and this is the way you want to open the throttle – he’d do the whole thing and make a circuit and downwind bash down some flap and so on. He’d do the whole thing and then he’d say, “You go ahead and have a ‘go. I would and did fairly well at it. I think we got along. His method of teaching was don’t get excited and take it easy- nothing drastic is going to happen. It was very reassuring, really, because he certainly was the perfect personification of confidence if nothing else. He certainly could fly and fly extremely well. I think it was the non-screaming low key approach. So many other guys had instructors who would almost get hysterical. They’d get so excited if you did something the least bit wrong. I think it was pretty easy on that score simply because he was so relaxed and it just kind of “transmitted” - easy going and calm but absolutely in control of everything. We used to twit each other on account of our accents. He used to call me ‘Ayid’ for Ed. Being from Kentucky, he really did have a southern drawl. I felt as though I was treated like a Canadian, and I don’t think there is anything I can add to that. I don’t really think that there was any distinct American-Canadian association. In fact, I don’t recall that the subject of who you were or where you came from came up very often. I don’t know how it felt to wear a U.S.A. shoulder flash because mine said Canada. Without doubt, it was the experience of a lifetime. I'm glad I went. The only regret is not finishing a tour but that's pretty small stuff compared to the reason; the end of the war. If only I had gone sooner ..., if, if if!!”
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