The government was spending billions on a three-fleet navy with the best air force in the world. M.G.M. knew Robert Taylor looked well in a uniform--they had tried it before. The government wanted publicity. M.G.M. liked the idea of getting all their sets and extras free and being patriotic at the same time. Sooooo--America got "Flight Command."
The Fighting Eighth, popularly known as the "Hell Cats," is the classiest outfit in the U. S. Navy. Rookie Bob, the boy-wonder of Pensacola, is received with all due suspect by the veteran laddies. Things go steadily wrong for two reels, and then Bobby runs true to form by saving the commander, proving the new landing-in-fog invention, and clearing his name of an ugly connection with the commander's wife--all in one breath-taking flight. The only sour note is that they wash out first-line fighting planes faster than we're building them. But Ruth Hussey has played with the one and only Taylor and will have her memories; there were a lot a good angles on diving Grumann lighters to inspire America's youth; and if you get really excited about the whole thing the nearest recruiting office is just two blocks and around the corner.
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