Golden Boys

Strike? Why not? For 30-c- an hour? Don't be silly, said the A.F. of L. Air Line Pilots' Association--we want a raise of $6,500 a year.

The man who made this demand, which made all other labor arguments look like something viewed through the wrong end of a telescope, was A.L.P.A. President David Behncke, a suave, self-assured retired pilot who looks about as radical as any Philadelphia Main Liner. Behind him was the combined strength of some 5,000 similar radicals--reserved, well-dressed citizens who own homes in fashionable suburbs and tend to vote the Republican ticket.

The 15-year-old A.L.P.A. is the world's most gilded and exclusive union. Its members earn salaries like $9,000 (pilot on a domestic run) and $12,000 (senior pilot on a transatlantic schedule). Most of them shudder at the thought of taking in other airline employes such as mechanics or clerks. But they have their own airtight method of enforcing a closed shop.

When a youngster starts out as a copilot, his associates suggest that he will doubtless want to join the union. If the newcomer agrees and is able, he is carefully nursed along by his pilot, becomes a full-fledged captain in due course. If he disagrees, he may live to be the world's oldest copilot.

Even when David Behncke proposed that the wages for ocean-going pilots be raised from $12,000 to $18,500 with proportional raises for others, the airlines could not work up too much outrage. The pilots, among the world's most skilled employes, are the backbone of the aviation industry, have frequently suggested technical improvements from which all management has profited. Moreover, the pilots have to make their money while they can--once they fail to pass the rigid physical examinations required by the Civil Aeronautics Board, their careers are over.

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