When the other student lagged two ship lengths behind him, Horner saw a temptation it took him no time to give in to. He knew it was going to put him in deep trouble. It was not part of the training, it was not briefed, he was supposed to provide a stable platform for the other student to fly off of, and if he made a wrong move, they would collide and all three pilots would be killed. But what the hell, he thought, you’ve got to go for it sometimes.

He reefed back hard on the stick, kicked right rudder, rolled hard right, and slipped neatly in behind the other aircraft in a perfect guns tracking position. The instructor, in what had now become Horner’s target, never even saw him disappear. Worried they had overrun him and were about to collide, Chase started shouting on the radio. At about that time, Horner was calling guns tracking and feeling like the biggest, meanest tiger in South Texas.

That feeling lasted about as long as it took Art Chase to order him firmly back in the lead.

He knew then that he was in for—and deserved—one huge ass-chewing. He knew he had taken unfair advantage of his friendship with Chase. Yet none of that mattered. He had joy in his heart. By executing a difficult and dangerous dogfighting maneuver, he had proved to himself that he was a fighter pilot.

He has never regretted doing that roll over the top that flushed Art Chase and his table mate out in front for a guns tracking pass.

When they landed, there was indeed hell to pay; Chase wanted Chuck Horner’s hide, and he gave him the ultimate punishment, which was to be sent into the Flight Commander’s office, where you were made to wonder if you would escape with your life, let alone stay in the program. There, Jack Becko gave Horner one of the finest dressings-down ever delivered. Then, as Horner was leaving the room—scared but not defeated—Becko gave him a wink. “Chuck, you’re going to make one hell of a fighter pilot,” he said.

At that moment Chuck Horner walked on clouds. I’m going to be a fighter pilot!

The only problem was: nobody was getting fighter assignments.

With the draw-down after the Korean War, if you wanted to be a fighter pilot, you could get assigned to either Air Defense Command or Tactical Air Command. By Chuck Horner’s time, Air Defense Command was a dead-end job, flying obsolete planes. Since it was becoming obvious that ballistic missiles were about to replace the Soviet bomber threat, there wasn’t going to be much need for fighter interceptors to knock out the bombers. Over time, the Air Force has gone from a hundred squadrons of fighter interceptors to about six or eight today.