After President Roosevelt had refused Lindbergh’s offer to serve in the Army, rugged old Henry Ford had taken him on as research assistant in Detroit. Here Lindbergh, now fortyish, carried out some very high altitude research under conditions that would have tried the skill of the ablest young pilot. I wanted him in United as a personal aide to help resolve some of the conflicts in the latest revolution in aviation, jet propulsion. Aside from his unexcelled knowledge of aviation and his proved pilot’s skill, Lindbergh had the clear incisive mind which we needed so badly in appraising some of the implications of jet power. For jet propulsion was not quite so simple as the art of building piston engines; such problems as air-cooled versus liquid-cooled or in-line engines versus radials belonged in the kindergarten compared with the complexities of turbo-jet versus turbo-prop. And whereas our air-cooled radials had promised improvement in every factor pertaining to aircraft propulsion, these jets suffered the serious handicap of profligate fuel consumption at the moment when maximum range was a fundamental requirement for air tactics and commercial air transport. While Lindbergh’s sound judgment proved valuable in this role, it was back in his natural character as the Lone Eagle that he went to town for me. On a trip to the Pacific, made at my suggestion with a view to helping the Vought Corsair play its lawful part in carrier operations, Lindbergh flew with a squadron of Army Lightnings on a long-range over-water mission. During this period of island hopping, advances were restricted to the operating radii of escorting fighters. Charles Lindbergh, utilizing some of the savvy that had shown the way from New York to Paris, was able to stretch his own range some five hundred miles. Following his quiet example, the remaining squadrons were soon able to go and do likewise. He dropped in unobtrusively one day on some marine fighter squadrons left behind to harass by-passed Jap installations on adjacent islands. The marines were accustomed to strafing Jap positions with the guns and light bombs of their Corsairs. Lindbergh quietly constructed a bomb rack for heavy bombs and progressively increased his load from 1000 to 2000 pounds and finally to 3000-pound bombs. When the marines discovered that the Corsair was truly a heavy dive bomber, they demanded a chance to participate in carrier-based close-support operations for amphibious forces. On receipt of this news, the Navy “discovered” the Corsair—so much so in fact that Adm. J. S. McCain, who had earlier confirmed current opinion that Corsairs were too big for carriers, now charged me with losing the war because Vought deliveries were inadequate to his needs over the Japanese island of Honshu.