Before going to Lockbourne, Barbara got a leave and returned to Chicago to see Leila and George at their airport and then visit Tim again at Glenview. While at the airport, she received word from her attorney notifying her that a pretrial custody hearing was finally scheduled for Family Court the following week. It could decide whether she would be able to adopt Tim. She had hoped his grandmother would reconsider the matter, but Mrs. Eaton was still determined to fight her for custody of the boy.
"I doubt the pretrial hearing will amount to much, but it's important that you be there," her lawyer said when she called him. "Because Mrs. Eaton is contesting your friend's will, I expect we'll have to go to trial. I've seen some people with set minds, but Mrs. Eaton's about the toughest opponent I've ever dealt with."
"But she's never flown a fighter or a B-17 which I'll be flying next," Barbara replied. "She doesn't know what tough means!"
What followed for Barbara and the other fifteen women pilots were 130 hours of flying instruction in what their likable flight instructor, 24-year-old Lt. Logue Mitchell, called your "Big Friend." Barbara was not the only one to have a crush on the good-looking, lanky young man, though he was already married.
The huge B-17s weighed 50,000 pounds, had 1,325-horsepower engines, and cost $300,000 to build. Barbara appreciated the trust placed in her to learn to ferry one safely from factory to airfield wherever it was requisitioned.
Training began on-the-run. The morning after arriving at Lockbourne, Barbara was in the pilot's seat of a B-17. Lieutenant Mitchell, seated in the co-pilot's seat but who would take the plane up, began going over the checklist. Pushing a simple button started the engine and the eleven-foot seven-inch propeller began to shudder and spin. In less than two minutes, all four engines were roaring.
Her hand on the engine throttles, Barbara parodied Mitchell's movements as the giant bomber began to move up the runway. Afraid the monster would not get off the ground, it was in the air before she knew it, and started to climb into the bright morning sky.
"Take her out over the farmland," Mitchell told Barbara. As she took over the controls and did as he instructed, he said, "Now try some banking and turning. You'll see how easy she is to handle. She's just big, that's all."
Yeah, sure! Barbara thought, then discovered he was right.
The flying monster was really just a pussy cat. A piece of cake!, she laughed to herself.