The Fun of Flying - REVIEWS
“I could not put it down! Should be a bestseller! What a life you lived!”
Edith Brewis, friend and critic.
“As a fellow F-84 driver, I can vouch for both accuracy and the flavor of Frits Forrer’s recollection. For those who were there, it’s a welcome reminiscence. For those who weren’t it’s a rare insider’s look at he thrills, chills and the fighter pilot mystique. I heartily recommend it”
Massey Lambard, USAF F-84 and TWA pilot and freelance journalist.
“Having read Frits Forrer’s wonderful book, Five years Under The Swastika: Through A Child’s Eye, I didn’t think it was possible for him to write a second first person account of his life with the same wit and compassion. In The Fun Of Flying, aviators of any service will instantly recognize Frits Forrer. He is the guy that always pushes the envelope whether it’s in the sky, the parade field or the barroom. This is simply a terrific book!”
Art Giberson, Author of Photo Journalist, Eyes Of The Fleet and Blue Ghost.
"Have you ever been in a plane before?"
"Not when it was off the ground."
"Not even commercially?"
"Nope, Never been off the ground."
"Are you ready anyway?"
The First Lieutenant was a roly-poly friendly man with laughing eyes. He should be fun.
"As ready as you are!"
"Alright, strap your ass in the back seat. You’ve been taught how to use the parachute, right? Good, you may need it!"
"Really?"
"Yeah, because if you don’t tighten those shoulder straps any better, you're gonna fall right out of the damn plane! That’s alright though. Just wait until you have enough altitude so you wont break your neck when you hit. Now just sit back and enjoy!"
He pulled his fat frame up the side of the little yellow bi-plane and lowered himself in the front seat.
"AF, OPEN, DICHT!" (magnetos off, gas on, throttle closed) he hollered at the mechanic out front who swung the propeller a few times. Next, a THUMBS-UP sign, "CONTACT!", one more swing and all 45 horsepower kicked into action.
Lt. Hoxel gave it some throttle and started zigzagging down the grass field. Before lining up between the "DOGHOUSES" that lined the runway, he faced the engine into the wind and ran up the engine some. Seemingly satisfied, he rolled in between the "DOGHOUSES", looked over his shoulder and hollered: "YOU O.K?"
"O.K!"
"Just put your hand on the stick and feel with me!"
He talked into a tube that was connected to Frits’ World War One leather flying helmet and without waiting for an answer , he shoved the throttle forward and they went bouncing down the grass strip. It didn’t take long before the tail came up and he was level with the instructor in front. Now he could see forward as well. A few more bumps and they were OFF! THEY WERE ACTUALLY FLYING!
For the first time in his life, he was actually flying and climbing higher. The sensation wasn’t all that unusual. It felt like riding in a car, but suspended. What was elating was the thought that he was really flying. Twenty years old and flying! Unbelievable! No one in his family had ever been in an airplane before and here he was, climbing toward the clouds and watching the world from up above. All those neat patches of green below, dark, medium and light green, pastures, woods, grain fields and potato patches, all nice and orderly…. "OH SHIT!" He hung upside down, suddenly! It happened so unexpectedly that he grabbed the cables along the inside of the plane.
It scared the living hell out of him momentarily, mostly because it was so sudden.
The voice in the helmet said: " I told you to tighten those belts and keep your hand on the stick!"
"How did he know that?"
