Editor's Note: Our summer issue carried a story on the Army Air Corps training bases in the Big Bend. That article prompted this submission from William McKee on a1943 training accident.

     Two friends and I had originally seen the remains of an Army Air Corps BT-13 in the fall of 1969 when I was a 29-year-old graduate student at Sul Ross State University in Alpine, Texas. I was assigned to teach beginning machine shop classes, and one of the older students told me of a crashed plane on a mountain. He said a crew of men lost in the fog of a West Texas norther found the plane as they left the mountain after repairing a windmill.

     The three of us visited the crash site two weeks later. I had taken a roll of black-and-white pictures in 1979 before I moved to Arkansas. We revisited the crash in March of 1999. Over the years, the three of us had talked about how it had gotten on the side of that mountain. We had been told by an old Mexican gentleman that the pilots had run out of gas and had crashed on the mountain. They had only been slightly injured so they had walked out, eventually finding civilization at the Powell ranch on the Balmorhea highway between Ft. Davis and Balmorhea, Texas.

     Pecos Army Air Field Fall 1943

     What started out to be a routine one hour instrument orientation training flight ended up in an adventure that would last a lifetime for Flight Instructor Second Lt. Malcolm Cuffel and Aviation Cadet Melvin Engle. Their aircraft left Crystal Auxiliary Field close to Toyah, Texas at 10:45 a.m. and proceeded to an altitude of 7,500 feet. There Cadet Engle went under the hood for a one-hour dual instrument instruction.

     The accident report reflects both instructor and cadet stated they noted a variation in the gyro compass readings and continued making turns to determine the problem. As they made their turns, a combination of wind drift and the weather front moving in caused the BT-13 Vultee Basic Trainer to move well over the cloud layer. In time they noticed the weather had totally closed in under them.

     The instructor told Cadet Engle he would take over the controls and headed for a thin spot in the cloud layer. When he got to a point where he could make out the ground, he started a slow descending banked turn and spiraled down through the cloud layer. When they broke through the overcast, they found themselves flying up a box canyon heading straight toward scrub oak, Ponderosa pines, and a mountain that disappeared into the underside of the cloud layer from which they had just descended.

     Both men stated that the trees and the mountain rushed up at them as the instructor hauled back on the stick in a vain effort to climb the plane faster than the ground rushed up to meet them. The little BT-13 just didn't have that kind of raw power and, as it impacted on trees, it must have sounded like the end of the line to both the young airmen.

     The Pecos Enterprise carried this story on the front page of its weekly edition:

     TWO SAFE IN CRASH

     Officer, Cadet Have Narrow Escape In Mountain Area.

     Two fliers from the local Army Air Field miraculously escaped serious injury when their plane crashed Monday into a peak in a remote area of the Davis Mountains. The airmen walked 28 miles before they found a ranch house and received aid.

     The airmen rode the ship into the mountain and were able to walk from the scene with only minor injuries, They are now in the base hospital for rest and observation.

     When contact with the plane was lost Monday, an intensive search was launched for the officer and the cadet. The wreckage was sighted from the air Tuesday afternoon, but it was hours later before the airmen were able to notify the post of their whereabouts.

     Keep em flying!

     The official accident report filed to the War Department showed the investigating committee laid the blame for the crash at the feet of the instructor, 2nd Lt. Cuffel.

     U.S. Army Air Corps Description Of Accident 1943

     Lt. Malcolm M. Cuffel and Aviation Cadet Melvin L. Engle departed Crystal Auxiliary Field at 10:45 o'clock for a one-hour dual instrument orientation flight. Lt. Cuffel was flying the front seat. At the time of take-off, an overcast had formed between 4,000 and 4,500 feet indicated over the area. Lt. Cuffel climbed through the overcast and instructed his student at an altitude of 7,500 feet. After thirty (30) minutes of instruction, while following a heading of approximately 210 degrees, Lt. Cuffel attempted to let down through an opening in the overcast, spiraling in a medium turn under power. The let-down was accomplished over a level area at the base of a mountain which was 7,500 feet high. The airplane broke out heading toward the mountain on the down-wind side and the pilot was unable to regain enough speed and power to climb the crest of the hill.

     The airplane crashed into tall timber in the side of the mountain and was completely demolished, but neither the instructor or student was severely injured.

     The investigating committee attributes the cause of this accident 100 percent pilot error on the part of Lt. Cuffel as he disregarded existing instructions at this field in going through an overcast when he did not possess a 50-3 instrument card, and was not cleared for an instrument flight.

     Remedial action to prevent recurrence of similar accidents:

     It is considered sufficient directives have been issued at this field to prevent accidents of this nature. Disciplinary action will be taken against all personnel disregarding existing instructions.

     End Of Official Report

     (also included)

     Both Lt. Cuffel and Cadet Engle made statements that were in this report. Both were basically the same as the summary indicated. Both said that they had experienced some minor malfunction with the gyro compass and artificial horizon.

     They had attempted to check it out so as to be able to g,ive maintenance a detailed description of the problem. The Cadet corroborated the instructor's statement.

     I contacted The Air Force, the Army, the VA, and the military records center in St. Louis and was told that the two men in the plane were Second Lt. Malcolm Cuffel and Aviation Cadet Melvin Engle. About all I learned was that neither instructor nor student had been listed as killed or missing during the war.

     I tried the Internet for Melvin Engle and, in early July 1999, I picked up the phone and started dialing. On my very first try the voice of a mature lady answered the phone; I immediately told her I was not a siding salesman, and that I was researching a plane crash from the Second World War in Texas. She said, "I'll let you talk to my husband." A strong male voice said hello and I told him I was looking for a student pilot that had been involved in a training crash in the Davis mountains in 1943. He said, "That brings back memories." He was indeed the right Melvin Engle. He said he had completed his flight training, been commissioned and sent to Las Vegas to fly as a co-pilot training aerial gunners on a B-17. Later he transferred to B-24 heavy bombers and was then sent to England. He had flown 36 missions over Europe by the end of the war. He attended college on the GI bill and, after finishing a degree in Aeronautical Engineering, he went to work for Douglass Aircraft, retiring in 1982. He and his wife Jayma have three children and two grandchildren. The following is a first-person account by cadet Melvin Engle.

     July 24, 1999

     Well, as we proceeded on down the canyon we came upon a pool of water. We both were very thirsty, and as I knelt down to get a drink, you might know I knelt down on the knee where the glasses were and smashed them to bits. So much for protection.

     We hiked on down the canyon until nearly dark and still saw no signs of civilization. It was getting cold by now and with no other clothing but our flying suits we looked for and found a cleared area and began looking for something to burn.

     We were out of the timber by now. The only thing we could find to burn were dried cow chips. So, with nothing to eat or drink we curled up as close to the fire as we could and roasted on one side while shivering on the other. Of course we had to get up every little while all through the night to look for and find more cow chips to keep the fire going.

     After a night of burning and freezing the morning finally came. We had nothing to do but move down the canyon, and we did. By this time we heard several planes in the distance but nothing close. Later in the afternoon I heard a plane coming right up the canyon toward us. I figured it might come close so I popped my parachute (I had carried it all the way from the plane) and spread it out on the hill side as a marker. You know what? That damn plane came up the canyon and flew no more than a few hundred feet above us and kept right on going. What a disappointment! I gathered up my chute and we proceeded on down the canyon.

     Somewhat later we heard a different sound, which turned out to be a man on horseback coming up the canyon. He was an older man, apparently an Indian, and as he approached he was trying to speak to us. In very broken English and some hand gestures we finally made out that he thought that we were hunters and wanted to know where our guns were. Trying for some understanding we asked with words and hand signs if he had any cigarettes. This he seemed to understand and his reply was,"I ain't gotta cigar, gotta Prince Albert". He then produced a red can of Prince Albert Smoking Tobacco. Lt. Cuffel and I both tried our hand at rolling a cigarette the old way. (There had only been three cigarettes between us at the time of the crash.) We continued to try to communicate with the old rider but were unable to make any headway. Finally he just rode away on up the canyon and out of sight. We didn't know what to think at that time. First we thought we had help and all of a sudden we were back on our own.

     So we rested a while and then continued on down the mountain. I recall that it was some 15 or 20 minutes later when here came our rider on horseback and in a hurry too. It seems he had finally realized our situation and was coming back to help us. Again with gestures and broken English, he indicated that he understood--comprende--and indicated that we should follow the trail we were on and he would go for help.

     With renewed spirits we continued on down the trail until exhaustion overtook us and we finally laid down in the trail and went to sleep. We were awakened in the late afternoon by the old man who had returned with food, all carried in a flour sack tied to the pommel of his saddle. He proceeded to build a fire there in the trail and fixed us a meal of bacon and eggs with cold biscuits and milk from a mason jar. Without exception that was one of the finest meals ever. After we ate, the old man led us down the trail to the ranch house. The Lt. and I took turns riding the horse while the old man led the way. At the ranch house we were met by medics with an ambulance from the base. They had been alerted of our being found.

     Mr. Engle doesn't know what became of Lt. Cuffel but said that he heard he was transferred after leaving the hospital. I found that, in the 1980s, he was listed by the VA as residing in Tampa, Florida. I have not been able to find him as of this time but am still looking. It would be quite amazing to find both of these men still alive and well 56 years after the crash of BT-13A, # 41-22776.

     Mr. Engle gave me his address and I sent him a package which included photographs of # 41-22776 as it appears today. I added a copy of the accident report, along with a three-page letter with questions for him about the crash. I had taken the data plate from the crash standard on our first trip so, just before sealing the package, I attached the data tag to a sheet of heavy paper and added it to the package. I had held on to it for thirty years and I really couldn't think of any one that deserved it more than one of the men that walked away from that crash.

     As stated earlier, it would be really amazing to find both men alive, but it wasn't in the cards. I just heard from the VA that Lt. Cuffel is deceased. He stayed in the Army for seven years and was discharged in 1950.

     The quoted sections are from the official U.S. Army Air Force Accident report which was sent to me through the Freedom of Information Act.

     The remembrance of their walk out of the mountains was furnished by Mr. Engle with his permission to use it in an article I planned to write.

     The quote from the newspaper was from the weekly edition of the Pecos Enterprise.

     I have purposely omitted the location of the crash site as requested by the rancher.

     Author William E. McKee graduated from Sul Ross State College in 1967 with a BS in Industrial Arts and in 1971 with a M.Ed. He was an Army veteran serving in a Medical Evacuation Helicopter unit in Germany during the cold war Berlin Crisis 1959 to 1962. He taught school in Missouri, Texas, Arkansas and Oklahoma. He was a Senior Helicopter Technical Representative for Lear Seigler in Viet Nam in 1968-1969. He is a free-lance photographer, antique automobile enthusiast, and aspiring writer.

     One of his current projects is researching a missing B-25 bomber crew that disappeared June 6, 1945 on an administrative flight between Palawan Island and Tacloban on Leyte in the Philippine Islands. 1st Lt. Ritchie L. Jones, the Operations officer for the 100th Bomb Squadron was one of the officers on board. He was the husband of a lady who was Mr. McKee's first babysitter and a friend of his family's.