Aviation History 2015-03

FASTEST F-4 PHANTOM + GRETA GARBO OF THE AIR

Luftwaffe’s Last Blow! Why Hitler’s aerial Battle of the Bulge doomed Germany

Stuka ace’s defiant final flight Greatest WWI airplane you never heard of Nineteenth Air Force pioneers rapid response

Wooden Wonder de Havilland’s multirole Mosquito MARCH 2015

HistoryNet.com

Owning a TURNBULL KNIFE is like owning a piece of art.

• IMPRESSIVE • DETAILED • HANDMADE

For more information, please email Ralph Turnbull today! Email: [email protected] | Website: www.turnbullknives.com

FEATURES 22

Luftwaffe’s Last Blow! By Don Hollway Seventy years ago, Germany launched Operation Bodenplatte, a last-ditch, all-out effort against Allied airfields.

30

The Miraculous Mosquito By Stephan Wilkinson Britain’s “Wooden Wonder” became the world’s most successful multirole combat aircraft.

38

The Iron Eagle’s Last Flight

44

‘Daughter of the Skies’

50

Winged Warhorse

54

Cold War Airpower Laboratory By Eileen A. Bjorkman Today’s expeditionary forces learned their trade beginning in 1955, with the Nineteenth Air Force.

By Michael Loftus Langdon Colonel Hans-Ulrich Rudel, Nazi Germany’s most decorated soldier, ended his war with a defiant surrender flight. By Michael D. Hull New Zealand’s glamorous Jean Batten blazed a long-distance trail across the skies in the 1930s.

By Robert Guttman Though far from pretty, the Breguet 14 is remembered as one of the best all-around aircraft of World War I.

Keith Skilling and Warren Denholm fly Jerry Yagen’s de Havilland Mosquito near Ardmore, New Zealand, in 2012. The Mosquito earned a reputation as the most versatile airplane of World War II (story, P. 30).

DEPARTMENTS 7 8

Cover: German fighters from Jagdgeschwader 11

Mailbag Briefing Extremes

14

By Emil Petrinic A U.S.–Israeli program sought to modify the F-4 for high-speed reconnaissance.

16

Aviators

18

Restored

21

Letter From Aviation History Reviews Flight Test Aero Poster

attack the American airfield near Asch, Belgium, during the January 1, 1945, Operation Bodenplatte, in an illustration by Jack Fellows (story, P. 22).

60

Cover: ©2014 Jack Fellows, ASAA Above: Gavin Conroy

66

65

By Rick Johnson American Bobby Sweeny flew Liberators for RAF Coastal Command.

By Edward H. Phillips A rare Travel Air 5000 finds a home in Fort Worth, Texas.

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

3

EDITOR IN CHIEF Roger L. Vance

Don’t miss this wonderful biographical story between two “aristocrats of the air”— Walter and Olive Ann Beech. This remarkable couple’s career spanned virtually the entire history of American aviation. Hardcover, 240 pages.

Order your copy today!

A mustread for any aviation or history buff!

The ABS store, www.bonanza.org

Vol. 25, No. 4 EDITOR

March 2015

Carl von Wodtke Nan Siegel Dit Rutland Jon Guttman Martin A. Bartels Guy Aceto

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

EDITOR EMERITUS

DIGITAL

Walter J. Boyne Carroll V. Glines Richard G. Smith Stephan Wilkinson Arthur H. Sanfelici Brian King Gerald Swick Barbara Justice

PRESIDENT & CEO Eric Weider Bruce Forman

Visit the website, www.barnstormerlady.com for more information.

Associate Editor Art Director Research Director Senior Editor Photo Editor

Director Editor Senior Graphic Designer

Chief Operating Officer

Karen G. Johnson Business Director Rob Wilkins Military Ambassador and Partnership Marketing Director

MARCH 2015

George Clark

Go to www.HistoryNet.com/ aviation-history for these great exclusives:

ON THE WEB

ADVERTISING

Single Copy Sales Director

Karen M. Bailey Production Manager/Advertising Services

[email protected] Richard E. Vincent National Sales Manager [email protected] Kim Goddard National Sales Manager [email protected] Rick Gower Georgia [email protected]

WEIDER HISTORY ARCHIVE

Terry Jenkins Tenn., Ky., Miss., Ala., Fla., Mass. [email protected]

YOU’LL FIND MUCH MORE about Aviation History on the Web’s leading history resource:

www.HistoryNet.com Discussion: The commercial aerospace industry suffered two serious setbacks in October (story, P. 21). Should the United States rely on private firms to do the lion’s share of heavy lifting into earth orbit, helping free NASA to conduct aerospace research and space exploration missions? Aviation History Magazine is on Facebook 4

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

Kurt Gardner Creative Services Director DIRECT RESPONSE Russell Johns Associates ADVERTISING 800-649-9800 • [email protected] Stephen L. Petranek Editor-at-Large

Adolf Galland prepares for a mission.

“Consummate Warrior” Adolf Galland A compelling interview with the Luftwaffe general of fighters and 104-victory ace, from our sister magazine World War II. Adventurous Aussie Pilot After scraping together funds for a commercial license in Australia, Patricia Graham became a bush pilot in New Guinea. Filling Stations in the Sky The aerial ballet that is modern inflight refueling remains a key component in combat, reconnaissance and humanitarian missions.

Subscription Information 800-435-0715 Yearly subscriptions in U.S.: $39.95 Back Issues: 800-358-6327 ©2015 Weider History Group Aviation History (ISSN 1076-8858) is published bimonthly by Weider History Group, Inc. 19300 Promenade Drive Leesburg, VA 20176-6500 703-771-9400 Periodical postage paid at Leesburg, VA and additional mailing offices. HGKLEAKLAJ , send address changes to Aviation History P.O. Box 422224 Palm Coast, FL 32142-2224 List Rental Inquiries: Belkys Reyes, Lake Group Media, Inc. 914-925-2406; [email protected] Canada Publications Mail Agreement No. 41342519 Canadian GST No. 821371408RT0001 The contents of this magazine may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the written consent of Weider History Group.

PROUDLY MADE IN THE USA

Edition size 95 prints - Price US $595.00 - Triple matted size 32”x20” General Adolf Galland’s JV-44 ‘Squadron of Experts’ General Galland leads his Me262 jet fighters in a high speed attack on USAAF Fortresses high over Germany, early 1945 Sacked by Goering, reprieved by Hitler, ‘Dolfo’ Galland, the only General to lead a fighter wing in combat, personally chose his pilots to include the Luftwaffe’s most successful air aces. The first print in this exclusive LUFTWAFFE TRILOGY each with signatures of eight Me262 combat aces.

General Adolf Galland 103 victories, 7 in Me262

Major Erich Rudorffer 224 victories, 12 in Me262

General Johannes Steinhoff 176 victories, 6 in Me262

Oberleutnant Walter Schuck 206 victories, 8 in Me262

General Walter Krupinski 197 victories, 2 in Me262

Oberst Herman Buchner 58 victories, 12 in Me262

Oberstleutnant Ernst-Wilhelm Reinert 174 victories

Generalleutnant Gunter Rall 275 victories

WINGS FINE ARTS For more details, visit our website: www.Wings-Fine-Arts.com or call us today on 1-800-545-9464

ADVERTISEMENT

Introducing The new and revolutionary

Jacuzzi® Hydrotherapy Shower. AGING = PAIN For many, arthritis and spinal disc degeneration are the most common source of pain, along with hips, knees shoulders and the neck. In designing the Jacuzzi Hydrotherapy Shower, we worked with expert physicians to maximize its pain relieving therapy by utilizing the correct level of water pressure to provide gentle yet effective hydrotherapy.

JACUZZI® SHOWER = RELIEF Four Jacuzzi® ShowerPro™ Jets focus on the neck, back, hips and knees and may help ease the pain

As we age, the occasional aches and pains of everyday life become less and less occasional. Most of us are bothered by sore muscles, creaky joints and general fatigue as we go through the day- and it’s made worse by everything from exertion and stress to arthritis and a number of other ailments. Sure, there are pills and creams that claim to provide comfort, but there is only one 100% natural way to feel better… hydrotherapy. Now, the world leader in hydrotherapy has invented the only shower that features Jacuzzi® Jets. It’s called the Jacuzzi® Hydrotherapy Shower, and it can truly change your life.

and discomfort of: UÊÊ
ÀÌÀÌÃ

UÊÊ

UÊÊ ÀVÕ>ÌÊÃÃÕiÃ

UÊÊ -V>ÌV>

UÊÊ
ViÃÊ>`Ê«>Ã

UÊÊ v>

>Ì

For over 50 years, the Jacuzzi® Design Engineers have worked to bring the powerful benefits of soothing hydrotherapy into millions of homes. Now, they’ve created a system that can fit in the space of your existing bathtub or shower and give you a lifetime of enjoyment, comfort and pain-relief. They’ve thought of everything. From the high-gloss acrylic surface, slip-resistant flooring, a hand-held shower wand to a comfortable and adjustable seat, to strategically-placed grab bars and lots of storage, this shower has it all. Why wait to experience the Jacuzzi® Hydrotherapy Shower? Call now… it’s

iÕÀ«>ÌÞ

the first step in getting relief from those aches and pains.

E FRE

Call toll free now and find out how you can receive your FREE special report Mention promotional code

59637

1-888-501-6791

© 2014 by Aging In The Home Remodelers

82007

The Jacuzzi® Hydrotherapy Shower provides a lifetime of comfort and relief… safely and affordably.

MAILBAG

Frozen Odyssey I read with interest the article in the January issue by Joseph Caro about the Junkers W33 Bremen crash. Not mentioned was the rescue of Bremen’s crew via the Ford TriMotor pictured on skis on the front page of the Evening Graphic newspaper [P. 51 in Caro’s article and reprinted above right]. That aircraft, which is still flying today, can be seen in beautifully restored condition at the Golden Wings Museum at Minnesota’s Anoka Airport [see photo above]. It was flown by several well-known pilots, including Charles Lindbergh, Amelia Earhart, Floyd Bennett—who piloted it during the Bremen rescue [and died of pneumonia on the return trip]—and Bernt Balchen, among others. The first Ford to be placed on floats, it was also one of the few to be fitted with skis. Great article in the best aircraft magazine in print. Dick Houck Roseville, Minn. Compliments to Aviation History and Joseph Caro for “A Newsman’s Frozen Odyssey.” Your readers might be interested in a few noteworthy ties to Bremen’s flight in my hometown: Copilot Colonel James Fitzmaurice later •moved to Massapequa Park, on Long Island, and opened Fitzmaurice Flying Field (now the site of two Massapequa schools). Five streets in the village of Massapequa Park are named after aviation heroes: Lindbergh, von Hünefeld, Fitzmaurice, Köhl and Balchen. There’s a small memorial in the lobby of Massapequa Park Village Hall commemorating Bremen’s flight from Baldonnel aerodrome, which was supposed to have ended at nearby Mitchel Field.

• •

ABOVE: COURTESY OF GOLDEN WINGS MUSEUM; NEWSPAPER: JOSEPH J. CARO

It was most enlightening to read that the restored Bremen can be seen at Germany’s Bremen Airport Museum. Perhaps someday it will be displayed at the Nassau County Cradle of Aviation Museum, on the site of Mitchel Field. John Joseph Budnick Massapequa Park, N.Y.

was bumped off by a colonel. It turned out he had gotten into the air at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and wanted to be able to say he had flown both the first and last missions of the war. So I flew all the way to Japan, four hours each way, and stood by patrolling over the downed-pilot rescue submarines, but didn’t get credit for the mission because that colonel took my place over the target. Donald L. Kiggins Sr. Darien, Conn.

The Lost Squadron While Lieutenant Ted Thurnau (not Thurneau) of VMF-422 was fortunate in having survived the ditching of his F4U Corsair on January 25, 1944 (see “The Lost Squadron,” January 2015), his luck ran out the following month on February 28, during a stopover at Abemama airfield in the Gilberts. He was on his way to Engebi in the Marshalls when the left wing of his Corsair folded on takeoff. Thurnau died in the crash. The official history of VMF-422 indicates that the left wing locking pin had worked out of its position just as the Corsair became airborne. During a November 1974 visit to Abemama, I found the wreck of Thurnau’s ship, broken in half at the cockpit and missing its engine and left wing. This and my other experiences in searching for war relics in the Gilbert and Ellice islands were published in After the Battle magazine in 1977. Bill Bartsch Reston, Va.

P-51 Pilot’s Long Haul I thoroughly enjoyed John Ottley’s article “The Long Haul,” about the last bomber raid of World War II, in the September 2014 issue. As an Iwo Jima–based pilot with the 47th Fighter Squadron “Dogpatchers,” VII Fighter Command, Twentieth Air Force, I was supposed to be on that August 14, 1945, mission escorting the B-29s in my P-51D, Clamwinkle McSlop. As a young second lieutenant, I was unaware it might be the last mission of the war, but some of the higher-ups did know—and as a result I

Another Vega Restoration I read your January 2015 article about John Magoffin’s Lockheed Vega [“Restored”] with great interest. However, Stephan Wilkinson’s mention of “five surviving Vegas” overlooks another Vega that is alive and well. NC-13705, serial no. 203, has been undergoing restoration since 2011, with a goal of returning it to airworthy status. The work is now about 85 percent complete. The aircraft is currently being re-covered and painted and lacks only a new cowl and oil radiator. This Vega was part of Shell Oil’s fleet, designated as Shell No. 7. We have a dated photograph of the aircraft at a California airport, with a notation on the reverse that Jimmy Doolittle was its pilot. An article on our Vega appeared in the April 2014 issue of Skyways: The Journal of the Airplane 1920-1940, and I have included a photo of it [above]. William McDevitt Heritage Aircraft Chalfont, Pa. Send letters to Aviation History Editor, Weider History Group, 19300 Promenade Drive, Leesburg, VA 20176-6500, or e-mail to [email protected].

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

7

BRIEFING

Movie Messerschmitts Sold

T

he Swiss company Boschung Global Ltd. announced on November 13, 2014, that it has taken possession of six rare movie Messerschmitts, which may soon be flying for the first time since 1968. Although the Messerschmitt Me-109 was among the most produced fighter aircraft of all time, only a Stunt pilot Connie Edwards’ cache of HA-1112 Buchóns as sold (top) and playing Me-109Es in The Battle of Britain (above). handful still exist, and a fraction of them are in flyable condition. This particular half dozen are in fact HA-1112 Buchóns, licensebuilt by Hispano Aviación and used by the Spanish air force pilot Wilson ‘Connie’ Edwards was certainly no ordinary sale!” said until 1965. They were initially powered by Hispano-Suiza engines, Paul Boschung, president of the company. “It took several months which necessitated airframe modifications to accommodate pro- and, in many respects, was an incredibly interesting project. The pellers that rotated in the opposite direction from those on the transaction was carried out seamlessly thanks to the assistance of original German Daimler-Benz-powered models. Later they were Platinum Fighter Sales, the leading specialists in the trade of warre-engined with Rolls-Royce Merlin 500s, resulting in an eccen- birds in the U.S.” tric fighter that was a handful to fly. Nevertheless, these airplanes Amazingly, after decades in storage the engines sprang back to did yeoman work representing Luftwaffe fighters in the 1969 film life following an oil change and a quick checkup. Boschung Global The Battle of Britain. Afterward they were presented to stunt pilot intends to restore all the planes to factory condition in collaboraWilson “Connie” Edwards, along with a tion with the energy drink company B63 1943 Spitfire and other aircraft, in lieu Switzerland, which also supports variof payment for his work on the movie. ous vintage aviation projects. Two of the Air Quotes Edwards kept them in a hangar in Texas Buchóns—an HA-1112-M1L fighter and for more than 45 years before agreeing the world’s only remaining HA-1112“Only he is lost who gives to turn them over to Boschung Global, M4L two-seat trainer—have already himself up for lost!” which specializes in selling and leasing been sold to the Swiss airshow company vintage warbirds. 46 Aviation S.A. –Hans-Ulrich Rudel “The deal with former movie stunt Jon Guttman

8

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

TOP: ©BOSCHUNG GLOBAL; ABOVE: AF ARCHIVE/ALAMY

EAA’s Standard J-1 Returns

The EAA’s Standard J-1, decked out in the markings of fictional barnstormer Waldo Pepper, takes to the air again.

JASON TONEY/EAA

to see the best-ever actual J-1 flying footage—as well as Jennies, a Spad, a Fokker Triplane and a Bücker Jungmeister—stream The Great Waldo Pepper from Netflix or Amazon. An oft-neglected Robert Redford film produced, directed and co-written by former U.S. Marine Corps pilot George Roy Hill, with flying sequences by Frank Tallman and a brave collection of stunt aviators, it has some of the finest aerial footage ever shot—an evocative reminder of the days before close-but-no-cigar computer-generated imagery. Stephan Wilkinson

MYSTERY SHIP

ROBERT F. DORR

T

he square-cut 1916-18 Standard J-1 biplane is notorious for being mistaken as a Curtiss JN-4 Jenny, a situation not helped by the fact that the Jenny is frequently referred to as the Curtiss Standard. In the case of the J-1, Standard was the name of one of the four companies that manufactured the gawky airplane for the U.S. Army Air Service, while the Curtiss Standard name came from the fact that the Jenny was the standard American World War I–era basic trainer. The Experimental Aircraft Association has owned a Standard J-1 for some 40 years, warehoused without wings or engine for a time, then restored but left on static display at the EAA Museum in Oshkosh, Wis. Time had its way with the wood and fabric, and in 2011 the EAA’s J-1 needed another restoration—completed in September 2013. But the J-1’s first flight didn’t take place until last October, when it took off in stately fashion, its vast wings as full of lift as a roomful of Wonderbras, from a grass runway at Oshkosh’s Wittman Field. (Search “EAA J-1” on YouTube to see that flight.) The EAA’s Standard carries a Hispano-Suiza 8A V-8, giving it 60 hp more than the equivalent 90-hp OX-5 Jenny. J-1s originally had famously vibratory and incendiary 4-cylinder Hall-Scott A-7a engines putting out 100 hp, but that power plant was so unreliable that all J-1s were grounded in 1918 until they were re-engined. The EAA airplane is painted in the yellow and black of fictional barnstormer Waldo Pepper, though the real movie plane is in the Historic Aircraft Restoration Museum, in suburban St. Louis. But

Can you identify this giant double-decker military transport? Turn to P. 12 for the answer.

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

9

Masters of War: History’s Greatest Strategic Thinkers E IT

D TIME OF

LECTURE TITLES

R FE

D

ER

off

BY

21

OR

70%

RY

LIM

Taught by Professor Andrew R. Wilson U.S. NAVAL WAR COLLEGE

FEBRU

A

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24.

Why Strategy Matters Thucydides on Strategy Thucydides as a Possession for All Time Sun Tzu’s The Art of War Sun Tzu through Time Machiavelli’s The Art of War Machiavelli’s Discourses on Livy The Napoleonic Revolution in War Baron Jomini as a Strategist Clausewitz’s On War Jomini and Clausewitz through the Ages From Sail to Steam—The Sea-Power Revolution Alfred Thayer Mahan Sir Julian Corbett Mahan, Corbett, and the Pacific War Air Power in Theory and Practice From Rolling Thunder to Instant Thunder Nuclear Strategy Mao Tse-tung in Theory and Practice Classics of Counterinsurgency Just-War Theory Terrorism as Strategy Strategies of Counterterrorism From the Jaws of Defeat— Strategic Adaptation

Masters of War: History’s Greatest Strategic Thinkers Course no. 9422 | 24 lectures (30 minutes/lecture)

What Can History’s Masters of War Teach Us Today? From Napoleon’s revolutionary campaigns to the ways insurgency and terrorism have defined war in the 21st century, military strategy and its outcomes have altered the course of history. And while the means of warfare may change, the classics of strategic thought endure.

SAVE UP TO $185 DVD CD

NOW $69.95 NOW $49.95

+$10 Shipping, Processing, and Lifetime Satisfaction Guarantee

Priority Code: 108048

Crafted by Professor Andrew R. Wilson—who taught at Harvard and now teaches at the elite U.S. Naval War College—Masters of War: History’s Greatest Strategic Thinkers offers an in-depth look at the world’s most brilliant strategists. These 24 eye-opening lectures will give you a new appreciation for the subtleties and complexities of military strategy and the decisive ways leaders adapt to the realm of fog, friction, and chance.

Offer expires 02/21/15

THEGREATCOURSES.COM/4 AVH 1-800-832-2412

For 24 years, The Great Courses has brought the world’s foremost educators to millions who want to go deeper into the subjects that matter most. No exams. No homework. Just a world of knowledge available anytime, anywhere. Download or stream to your laptop or PC, or use our free mobile apps for iPad, iPhone, or Android. Over 500 courses available at www.TheGreatCourses.com. Please note: The views expressed in this course are those of the professor and do not necessarily reflect the position or policy of the U.S. Navy, the U.S. Department of Defense, or the U.S. government.

BRIEFING On October 24, 2014, Alan Eustace (left) ascended to 135,890 feet wearing a pressure suit with life support system (below) before exceeding the speed of sound in a record-breaking skydive.

Thinking Outside the Gondola

A

little more than two years after Felix Baumgartner’s highly publicized parachute jump from the Red Bull Stratos gondola at 128,100 feet on October 14, 2012, his record fell with little fanfare. Moreover, rather than riding into the stratosphere inside a pressurized gondola, as Baumgartner did, Google executive Alan Eustace depended upon an advanced pressure suit created by ILC Dover Industries and a life support system developed by Paragon Space Development Corporation. Over the course of 2½ hours on October 24, Eustace was hoisted to 135,890 feet by a 450-foot-tall plastic balloon, tethered to what was described as a “beam structure,” or Balloon Equipment Module. Cutting him-

self loose, he established world records for highest jump and distance of fall with a drogue chute, reaching a top speed of 822 mph, or Mach 1.23, during his 15-minute fall. Why the notable difference in strategy? Dollars. As senior curator Tom Crouch of the National Air and Space Museum’s Aeronautics Department reported online, Eustace had managed to fund the three-year project to set a new record without any support from Google. “From the outset,” Crouch explained, Eustace’s team “could see little point in spending a lot of money to develop a sophisticated pressurized balloon cabin, only to have to lift such a heavy craft to altitude.”

Sold! $275,000

T

his Hasselblad camera, used by astronaut Wally Schirra during his October 1962 Mercury mission, recently sold at auction for more than a quarter million dollars. Reportedly the first Hasselblad taken into space, it was purchased by Schirra in Houston, Texas, prior to his mission and modified for use in orbit. He captured many dazzling images as he circled the earth six times before splashdown. Astronaut Gordon Cooper would use the same Zeiss lens with another Hasselblad during his 1963 Mercury mission.

TOP LEFT AND INSET: J. MARTIN HARRIS; TOP RIGHT: REX FEATURES VIA AP IMAGES; ABOVE LEFT: RR AUCTIONS; ABOVE MIDDLE AND RIGHT: NASA

Below: Schirra and fellow astronauts examine cameras used in space. Left: One of many images captured by the Hasselblad.

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

11

BRIEFING

Google Takes Over Moffett Field

W

ith a 200-foot-high ceiling and a floor surface covering eight acres, Hangar One at Moffett Field in Mountain View, Calif., is an appropriate place from which to launch some very big ideas. That seems to be the thinking behind NASA’s announcement in November that the Internet giant Google, and its subsidiary Planetary Ventures LLC, had signed a lease for the use of 1,000 acres at Moffett Field, including Hangars One, Two and Three, for $1.16 billion over a 60year term. The agreement lifts a significant burden from NASA, which has maintained the site since 1994 at a cost of about $6.3 million annually, and was facing substantial addi-

Top: USS Macon inside massive Hangar One in 1934. Above: An exterior view of the hangar just before its sale to Google.

12

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

tional expenditures to restore the aging hangars. Hangar One was built in the early 1930s to house the enormous but ultimately ill-fated airship USS Macon. “We want to invest taxpayer resources in scientific discovery, technology development and space exploration—not in maintaining infrastructure we no longer need,” said NASA administrator Charles Bolden. Just what Google plans to do with the property remains tantalizingly vague. In addition to the cost of the lease agreement, the company will pour at least $200 million into property improvements, ranging from refurbishing the historic but badly aging hangars to creating an educational facility open to the public. Additionally, the NASA statement indicated the hangars would be used for the “research, development, assembly and testing in the areas of space exploration, aviation, rover/robotics and other emerging technologies.” Google has a clear interest in emerging technologies, with publicly acknowledged projects ranging from Google Glass to self-driving cars. The company’s Project Wing is currently exploring the use of drones for product delivery. Google executives will also likely enjoy use of the airfield’s two runways and a private golf course on the site.

MYSTERY SHIP ANSWER Lockheed built two examples of the R6O-1 Constitution transport, also called the R6V-1. Serving with U.S. Navy transport squadron VR-44 at Alameda, Calif., in the 1950s, they did a lot of heavy hauling. The first Constitution made its maiden flight on November 9, 1946, when a fiveman crew including pilot Joe Towle and copilot Tony LeVier delivered it from the Burbank factory to Muroc Army Air Field, Calif. The two R6O-1s joined squadron VR-44 at Alameda in 1949. Designed by a team under Willis Hawkins that later created the C-130 Hercules, the Constitution was the largest landplane ever operated by the Navy. It was propelled by four big, complex Pratt & Whitney R-4360 Wasp Major 28-cylinder radial engines. With a 190-foot wingspan, the R6O-1 was the biggest aircraft built by Lockheed up to that time. But despite having one of the highest-horsepower engines in the piston world, the Constitution, with a gross weight of 196,000 pounds, proved to be an underpowered gas-guzzler. The pressurized, double-decker Constitution featured a circular stairway at each end of its cavernous, 156-foot fuselage. It was capable of carrying as much as 20 tons of cargo—but not very far. The addition of water injection to the R-4360s, coupled with frequent use of jet-assisted takeoff, failed to give the R6O-1 the oomph it needed. It could travel from California to Hawaii, but only with about half its cargo capacity. Plans for a civilian version were scrapped, and so too were the two Constitutions. Robert F. Dorr

TOP: UNDERWOOD ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES; ABOVE: ©ROSS PICTURES/CORBIS

Advertisement

Analog and digital display Stop watch function Built-in alarm LCD complications Electro-luminescence backlight

Suggested Retail $395…

NOW, on you wrist for $29 95r For a limited Time Only

Amazing New Hybrid Runs Without Gas The new face of time? Stauer’s Compendium Hybrid fuses form and functionality for UNDER $30! Read on...

I

nnovation is the path to the future. Stauer takes that seriously. That’s why we developed the Compendium Hybrid, a stunningly-designed hybrid chronograph with over one dozen analog and digital functions that is more versatile than any watch that we have ever engineered.

New technology usually starts out at astronomical prices and then comes down years later. We skipped that step to allow everyone the chance to experience this watch’s brilliant fusion of technology and style. We originally priced the Stauer Compendium Hybrid at $395 based on the market for advanced sports watches... but then stopped ourselves. Since this is no ordinary economy, we decided to offer the Compendium Hybrid at 92% off. That means this new technological marvel can be yours for only $2995! Welcome a new Digital Revolution. With the release of the dynamic new Compendium, those boxy, plastic wrist calculators of the past have been replaced by this luxurious LCD chronograph that is sophisticated enough for a formal evening out, but rugged and tough

enough to feel at home in a cockpit, camping expedition or covert mission. The watch’s extraordinary dial seamlessly blends an analog watch face with a stylish digital display. Three super-bright luminous hands keep time along the inner dial, while a trio of circular LCD windows track the hour, minutes and seconds. An eye-catching digital semi-circle animates in time with the second hand and shows the day of the week. The watch also features a rotating bezel, stopwatch and alarm The Compendium: The functions and green spectacular face of the electro-luminescence latest watch technology. backlight. The Compendium Hybrid secures with a rugged stainless steel band and is water-resistant to 3 ATM. Guaranteed to change the way you look at time. At Stauer, we believe that when faced with an uphill economy, innovation and better value will always provide a much-needed boost. Stauer is so confident of their latest hybrid timepiece

Smart Luxuries—Surprising Prices™

that we offer a money-back-guarantee. If for any reason you aren’t fully impressed by the performance and innovation of the Stauer Compendium Hybrid for $2995, simply return the watch within 30 days for a full refund of the purchase price. The unique design of the Compendium greatly limits our production, so don’t hesitate to order! Remember: progress and innovation wait for no one! WATCH SPECS: - Three LCD windows show hour, minute and second - Stop watch function - Fits 6 3/4"–8 3/4" wrist - 2 year warranty on movement

Offer Limited to First 2500 Respondents

92% OFF

Stauer Compendium Hybrid Watch

Now $29 95

+S&P

Save over $365

Other discounts and coupons do not apply to this exclusive offer.

Call now to take advantage of this limited offer.

1-888-324-4370 Promotional Code VHW648-06 Please mention this code when you call.

Stauer

14101 Southcross Drive W.,

® Dept. VHW648-06

Burnsville, Minnesota 55337

www.stauer.com

EXTREMES

By Emil Petrinic

The Fastest Phantom A joint American-Israeli program sought to modify the F-4 for Mach 3 reconnaissance missions

O

n November 6, 1971, a MiG-25R “Foxbat” reconnaissance plane from the Soviet Union’s 63rd Independent Air Detachment rolled out of its hardened shelter at an air base near Cairo. In the cockpit was one of a group of men designated as “farm workers” by the Soviet Union and sent to Egypt in response to an urgent request by President Anwar Sadat. In reality, these were highly trained pilots, led by Hero of the Soviet Union Colonel Alexander Bezhevets. The Soviet MiGs wore Egyptian Air Force markings, and the men flying them observed strict radio discipline, but their Israeli opponents were not fooled. As the Foxbat sped over the Sinai at 75,000 feet on a mission to photograph Israeli positions near the Mitla Pass that November, it did not go unnoticed. Since March the Israeli Air Force had been frustrated time and again by its inability to intercept the brazen intruders with ground-to-air missiles or fighter aircraft. This time the Israelis were ready. A pair of McDonnell Douglas F-4E Phantoms, specially modified to be as light as possible and armed with AIM-7E Sparrow missiles, waited on standby. The Phantoms climbed to 44,000 feet and launched their missiles, which rose to the Foxbat’s altitude and detonated, but by then the MiG had long since passed their position. The Sparrows’ proximity detonators couldn’t deal with the closing speed of the encounter. Back to the drawing board. Israel’s Knesset discussed the reconnaissance overflights twice in emergency sessions, also sending in commandos disguised as Bedouins to have a closer look at the base where the MiGs were stationed. They offered the pilots a million dollars and a villa on the coast to defect. None of it worked. Though the Soviet overflights stopped with the end of the 1973 Yom Kippur War, the MiGs left a powerful impression. 14

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

The Israelis had already been looking for their own effective reconnaissance platform. They thought they found it in the HIAC-1 advanced high-altitude reconnaissance camera, built by General Dynamics. But the camera was so large it had to be carried in an RB-57F, a recon version of the British Canberra bomber license-built by Martin and General Dynamics, which had not been approved for export by the United States. By 1971, the attitude in America toward such exports had changed. The U.S. Air Force had developed a pod, designated the G-139, that could house the camera and be mounted under the fuselage of an F-4 Phantom. Even then, however, the camera was so large that the pod was more than 22 feet long and weighed over 4,000 pounds. The camera/pod combo was flown on many reconnaissance flights (designated Bench Box) near the North Korean border, attached under RF-4C Phantoms. The Israelis were interested in the cameracarrying Phantoms, which led to the birth of Project Peace Jack. A major concern was the adverse impact of the enormous camera pod on aircraft performance. General Dynamics’ engineers decided the best way

A. Redesigned nose with HIAC-1 LOROP camera B. Reinforced polycarbonate cockpit canopies C. Conformal water tanks D. Altered flight controls E. Strakes to improve longitudinal stability F. Increased tail area G. Camera port (four total) H. Air-conditioning system ram air intake with water injection added I. Radically redesigned engine air intakes J. Water injection for pre-compressor cooling added to engines

to address the problem was to increase the F-4’s performance rather than trying to design a lighter camera system. The company sought to boost the thrust of the Phantom’s engines using water injection, an idea for which there was a precedent. On December 9, 1959, Operation Skyburner had commenced as an attempt to secure high-altitude flight records using the Phantom. But the Skyburner program also had the absolute speed record in its sights. For that attempt, McDonnell engineers added water-methanol injection to an F4H-1. A large tank was installed in the

ILLUSTRATION BY EMIL PETRINIC

rear cockpit, in the space normally occupied by the weapon systems officer. In addition, the windscreen had to be reinforced, since it would be in danger of breaking due to friction heat at the higher speeds. On November 22, 1961, U.S. Marine Corps Lt. Col. Bob Robinson flew the modified Phantom to an absolute world record speed of 1,606.342 mph. The General Dynamics team applied those same lessons to what was now designated the F-4X. The new aircraft would have large 300-gallon conformal water tanks mounted above the fuselage engine fairings. Demineralized water would be used for pre-compressor cooling (PCC) of the General Electric J79 engines, serving three purposes: cooling the air entering the compressor, increasing the total mass flow through the engine (thereby increasing thrust) and adding more oxidizer to the afterburner. GE had tested the engines, and passed along that data to General Dynamics, simplifying the job for the F-4X project engineers. PCC was calculated to increase the J79 engine thrust by 50 percent—more than satisfactory. To allow for much faster airspeeds, larger engine air intakes were designed, complete with a sophisticated system of internal plates and bleeds. A new polycarbonate cockpit enclosure would deal with the friction heat. The flight controls were also modified, and the tail area was increased. In 1973 a smaller, updated version of the HIAC-1 camera was installed in the jet’s nose. With the reduction in drag from the pod’s elimination, the Phantom’s performance was now calculated to increase to a cruising speed of Mach 2.4 and dash speed of Mach 3.2. But this brought the export of the F-4X into doubt. No country other than the United States and the Soviet Union had aircraft with Mach 3+ performance. In his book Spyplane: The U-2 History Declassified, Norman Polmar cited an example of why that might be a concern. Starting in August 1970, two U.S. Air Force U-2R reconnaissance planes were stationed at the RAF base in Akrotiri, Cyprus, during the Suez Crisis. After the first day of U-2 overflights, Israeli Defense Minister Moshe Dayan called the deputy chief of mission at the U.S. embassy in Tel Aviv into his office and complained that the U-2s had deviated from the narrow

ALL PHOTOS COURTESY OF JAY MILLER

5-kilometer-wide corridor the Israelis had assigned them. Dayan then threatened to shoot them down using F-4Es. It’s understandable that the State Department would be worried that another nation—even an ally—might acquire interceptors that could threaten U.S. reconnaissance aircraft. However, the F-4X was not equipped with radar and so was unlikely to be used as an interceptor. The program was thus allowed to continue. In November 1974, an Israeli F-4E was flown to General Dynamics’ Fort Worth facility to serve as a mockup for the new aircraft. Engineers worked on the jet well into 1975, by which time the program had run into problems. After extensive testing, General Dynamics concluded that PCC would cause the turbine compressor blades to expand and hit the engine case, causing catastrophic failure. Meanwhile, the McDonnell Douglas F-15 Eagle was finishing its test program and about to become operational. Because the F-4X might offer superior performance in some ways at a lower cost, Air Force officials feared Congress would cut back on F-15 funding. The State Department was also still concerned the IAF would use the F-4X as an interceptor, and that a successful shootdown of a Soviet reconnaissance plane would create an international incident. This signaled the death knell for the F-4X. The program wasn’t a complete bust, however, as Israel still wanted the nosemounted HIAC-1s. Two additional IAF Phantoms joined the F-4E used for mockup work, with all three converted into the new RF-4E(S) variant. Because of the F-4X program’s early termination and budget limits, the converted aircraft still used conventional unmodified J79 engines. The three RF-4E(S) reconnaissance planes were finally delivered to the IAF in 1976 and 1977. With characteristic irony, the Israelis nicknamed them Tsalam Shablul, or Photographer Snail. Because the Shabluls flew their missions at altitudes approaching 70,000 feet, the pilot and systems officer wore full pressure suits, the same David Clark Company A/P22S-6 suits used by American reconnaissance pilots. The Shabluls were retired in May 2004 after a long and busy career. Two were placed into storage at Ovda, and the third can still be seen at the Israeli Air Force Museum at Hatzerim Air Base. 

The G-139 pod, shown on an RF-4C, allowed just four inches’ clearance from the runway.

The HIAC-1 long-range oblique photography (LOROP) camera offered exceptional acuity.

A 1/20th-scale wind tunnel model shows the final RF-4X recon plane configuration.

The RF-4X mock-up contrasts a stock intake (right) with the enlarged version for PCC.

F-4E 69-7576 was used for mock-up work on the RF-4X and subsequently the RF-4E(S).

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

15

AVIATORS

By Rick Johnson

Playboy Pilot Champion American golfer Bobby Sweeny proved his mettle at the controls of a crippled Liberator

A

mid the gathering gloom descending on London in 1939 there remained pockets of glitz and glamour. Few members of that privileged world moved in more sophisticated circles than Charles and Bobby Sweeny, the handsome, Oxford-educated sons of an American financier. They knew everyone who was anyone in London, consorting with royalty and nobility, political and military elite, actors and sports heroes. Their friends ranged from Ambassador Joseph P. Kennedy’s brood to movie stars David Niven and Merle Oberon. It was as if the Sweenys had stepped out of an F. Scott Fitzgerald story. Long before America entered World War II, the Sweeny brothers used their connections to join the British war effort. Charles, the elder at 30, organized the RAF Eagle Squadron, a legion of American volunteers that would eventually number 244 pilots, with the help of his uncle, Colonel Charles Sweeny. The squadron became a natural home for rambunctious Yanks desperate to fly the hottest machine around, the Supermarine Spitfire. Between the Eagles’ first combat action in July 1941 and September 1942, when the three Eagle squadrons were transferred to the U.S. Army Air Forces’ 4th Fighter Group, the American pilots destroyed at least 73 enemy aircraft. Younger brother Bobby, who had won the British Amateur golf championship in 1937, was in the States when Britain entered the war, but returned to England and tried to join the RAF. Told he was too old to be a fighter pilot, he first opted to serve as an adjutant in the Eagle Squadron. “Bobby, however, was not the kind of man to play anything but an active role in anything,” his brother noted. “His decision was strengthened by the attitude of some of the pilots, who made it clear that they saw him as a rich and pampered playboy. Bobby was determined to show them—and he did. 16

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

Eagle Squadron Group Captain Charles Sweeny (left) talks with his nephew Robert— before “Bobby” transferred to RAF Coastal Command to fly Consolidated Liberators.

“He pointed out to everyone who would listen that the RAF was in no position to refuse the services of an officer who had 50 hours of flying time,” Charles continued. “I have heard him accused of taking advantage of his friendship with influential people to get into the RAF. I can assure you, he used his charm and every other wile short of blackmail on every influential person he could find—and it worked!” Bobby Sweeny succeeded in getting his wings, but since he could not be considered for Fighter Command, he was posted to Coastal Command’s No. 247 Squadron under Air Marshal John Slessor, flying Consolidated Liberators. Even while preparing for combat, Bobby maintained his posh lifestyle. Rather than living at the pilots’ encampment in Torquay, he stayed in the Imperial Hotel, driving around the countryside in his Bentley and dining regu-

larly with Brig. Gen. Alfred Critchley, an old golfing companion who had been assigned to serve as air commodore in charge of training pilots. Bobby would eventually fly more than 800 combat missions. Early on, while patrolling off Norway’s coast, he spotted the pocket battleship Lützow. Sweeny’s squadron leader wouldn’t risk a bombing raid at that point, but the Liberators shadowed the cruiser, forcing it to retreat to the Norwegian fjord where it spent most of the war. Over the Bay of Biscay on May 31, 1943, Sweeny encountered the German submarine U-621 while its crew was searching for survivors from a sub that had gone down nearby. He dropped 12 depth charges on the U-boat in two runs, severely damaging it. As they watched the stick of bombs impact right across the sub’s nose, Sweeny and his crew were certain they had destroyed the

©DAILY MAIL/REX/ALAMY

vessel. U-621 submerged, and Sweeny reported seeing a mass of oil and debris, including dozens of oranges, come bubbling to the surface. To everyone’s surprise, however, after returning to base they were awarded a probable kill. As it turned out, the severely damaged U-boat managed to limp back to Brest, France, on June 3. While patrolling that same area on July 28, Sweeny recorded a confirmed kill— though he almost didn’t live to celebrate it. It began when a Liberator piloted by Major Stephen McElroy of the USAAF’s 4th Antisubmarine Squadron located U-404 northwest of Cape Ortegal, on Spain’s northwest tip. A veteran of six cruises, during which it sank 13 merchant ships and a destroyer, U-404 had left St. Nazaire on July 24 bound for the North Atlantic. On his first attack, McElroy’s depth charges failed to release. When the U-boat resurfaced, he dropped eight depth charges onto its diving point, but then flak damage to the B-24’s radio and an engine forced him to turn back. After the sub surfaced again, another Liberator from the same squadron, flown by 1st Lt. Arthur J. Hammar, targeted it. But he too was forced to break off his attack due to flak damage. Then Sweeny, flying with RAF No. 224 Squadron, headed for U-404. At 1,000 yards his gunners began firing, and the sub’s crew responded. Sweeny ignored the barrage to drop his bombs on target and finish off the U-boat, even as a shell smashed into his right wing, damaging its outer engine. As he pulled up, the bomber was shaking. He was forced to run the three undamaged engines at full power, but whenever he tried to gain altitude, the Liberator threatened to stall. Sweeny ordered everything not nailed down tossed out of the bomber. He gradually managed to gain altitude, but he knew the Liberator was an easy target. His options were limited: He could divert to Spain, where the crew and plane would be interned; he could contact the British light cruiser Glasgow patrolling nearby, and hope its crew would fish him and his men out of the water if they went down; or he could try to limp back to RAF St. Eval, 400 miles distant. But with the remaining engines running at maximum power, they were unlikely to have enough fuel to cover the distance. And they would have to fly along the French coast, well within range of German fighters.

IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM HU 81397

A U.S. Navy B-24 Liberator sinks U-681 in 1945. On July 28, 1943, Bobby Sweeny sank U-404, then nursed his shot-up Liberator 400 miles back to a British base.

Deciding to head for St. Eval, Sweeny ducked into the clouds for cover, though he had to fight to maintain altitude. Charles later wrote of his brother’s ordeal, “Every time they started to lose height, they found something else to throw overboard, until even the life-rafts were gone.” Over the Brest Peninsula they broke out of the clouds and Sweeny spotted a Ju-88C just 50 yards away—close enough that he could discern the surprised look on the German pilot’s face. The American maneuvered back into the clouds before the Junkers could pull up and open fire. Sweeny realized he couldn’t risk flying in the open; he would have to cloud-hop toward base, using up precious fuel. As his crippled Liberator neared St. Eval, the clouds that had sheltered Sweeny became his adversary: He was having trouble finding his way home. The base dispatched a pair of Spitfires to lead him in, but to no avail. The Liberator finally landed at St. Mawgan, three miles from St. Eval, as it had a longer runway. Bobby’s commanding officer, Arthur Clouston, who had been monitoring the situation from 800 miles offshore, told Charles, “I thought he would never make it.” Two months later the Associated Press reported that the “golfer who won the 1937 British Amateur Championship…prodded his crippled plane on the 400-mile trip home on three engines, seldom flying more than a few hundred feet over the water. His ship was defenseless against enemy fighters as everything movable, including guns, had

been thrown overboard to lighten the load.” Clouston recommended Bobby for a Distinguished Service Order, but the station commander rejected it. Instead he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, which King George VI presented to him at Buckingham Palace. After the war, Bobby Sweeny went to work at his father’s London firm and resumed his golf career. He again reached the finals of the British Amateur in 1946, but lost. He also courted Woolworth heiress Barbara Hutton—losing her to Cary Grant. In 1949, at age 37, he married 18-year-old New Yorker Joanne Connelly. Their marriage would end in a messy public divorce after the birth of two daughters. Bobby’s next big disappointment came in 1954, when he lost on the final hole of the U.S. Amateur to the then-unknown 24-year-old Arnold Palmer, who called Sweeny “the finest striker of the ball I’d ever seen.” The Sweenys maintained their friendship with the Kennedy clan over the years of wintering in Palm Beach. In 1963, when a vacationing President Kennedy was riding in a motorcade, he spotted the Sweeny brothers playing the 16th hole at the Everglades Club. Ordering his car to stop, JFK jumped out—followed by two Secret Service men—and walked out onto the course to greet his old friends. Bobby Sweeny died of cancer in October 1983 at age 72. His elder brother Charles, who documented Bobby’s wartime experiences in his autobiography, outlived him by a decade.  MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

17

RESTORED

By Edward H. Phillips

Tale of a Rare Travel Air After decades of neglect, a restored Travel Air 5000 transport serves as a reminder of one man’s campaign to bring airline service to North Texas

N

early 80 years after it first flew, the sole Travel Air transport known to exist has been placed on permanent display in Fort Worth, in a fitting tribute to Texas aviation enthusiast Amon G. Carter Sr. “This airplane is an iconic artifact of Fort Worth’s aviation history, and we believe it should return to Fort Worth as a centerpiece to commemorate Amon G. Carter’s aviation legacy,” said Jim Hodgson, executive director of the Fort Worth Aviation Museum. “No other airplane typifies the diversity of our aviation heritage more than National Air Transport’s Travel Air Type 5000. Amon Carter was responsible for so much of what we are today and deserves to be recognized for his accomplishments.” Efforts to bring the Travel Air to Fort Worth began in 2012, when the museum initiated a campaign to acquire the cabin monoplane. After a series of negotiations, MorningStar Capital purchased the airplane in 2013 and shipped it to Justin, Texas, where it was rebuilt by Cowtown Aerocrafters under the direction of Lanny Parcells. Parcells and a small group of enthusiasts spent most of 2013 and 2014 rebuilding the 86-year-old airplane. He and his team devoted nearly 3,000 hours to bringing the airframe and engine back to as near original configuration as possible—no mean feat considering the unrestored condition of the transport and the limited technical information available. “We are very pleased with the way this project turned out, considering the amount of reverse engineering necessary to obtain the correct level of authenticity,” Parcells said. Of all the challenges the crew encountered, he said none was more difficult than the design and fabrication of the many wood fairings and formers that gave shape to the fuselage and the cockpit enclosure. Photos of other Travel Air transports were 18

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

helpful, but the absence of engineering and certification data proved disappointing. In 1928 Travel Air did not seek an Approved Type Certificate for the Type 5000, and little or no technical information existed to help the team. “We are so pleased to be a part of this project to bring a piece of history back to life,” said Joy Webster, vice president of facilities for Fort Worth–based MorningStar Capital LLC, which provided funding to acquire the aircraft from Harry Hansen, a retired Continental Airlines captain. Hansen had begun rebuilding the Travel Air more than 51 years ago, after buying it from Carter’s family. In recognition of his support of aeronautics in the Fort Worth area, on February 1, 1931, the airplane was presented to Carter by officials of National Air Transport (NAT), which had operated it since 1927. Carter was a Texas oilman, advertising mogul and, above all, a staunch advocate for aviation in North Texas. He began building his reputation as a driving force in Texas aeronautics as early as 1911, when Fort Worth citizens witnessed daredevil aviators flying their “aerial machines.”

The Travel Air 5000 on display in Fort Worth (top) looks much as it did during its NAT service 85 years ago (above).

Six years later Carter played an important role in establishing three flying fields near the city to train pilots after America’s entry into World War I. During the 1930s, Carter was elected to the board of directors at American Airlines, and soon after the U.S. entered World War II, his influence proved instrumental in the construction of a massive factory in Fort Worth dedicated to producing Consolidated B-24 Liberators. Built early in 1927 by the Travel Air Manufacturing Company in Wichita,

TOP: LANNY PARCELLS; ABOVE: GERALD ASHER

UT DALLAS SPECIAL COLLECTIONS UT DALLAS SPECIAL COLLECTIONS

From left, E.P. Lott presents the Travel Air to Amon G. Carter, while Will Rogers looks on.

LANNY PARCELLS

The Travel Air at Carter’s Shady Oak Farm.

Time and weather reduced it to a skeleton.

LANNY PARCELLS

selage structure, with the original serving as a pattern. Parcells and his crew re-covered the fuselage, empennage and wings using durable Dacron fabric supplied with the Stits Poly-Fiber system, and painted the fuselage a shade of blue that closely duplicates the original color applied at the factory in 1927. The semi-cantilever wings feature an M-6 airfoil, with a span of more than 51 feet and a generous wing area of 312 square feet. Each panel was covered, rib-stitched by hand and given a final coat of aluminumpigment dope to protect against damage from the sun’s ultraviolet rays. All the wood, steel tubing and fabric repair work was done in accordance with acceptable practices set forth in FAA Advisory Circular AC 43.13-2, Swindle noted. Travel Air’s Type 5000 traces its origin back to the legendary Clyde V. Cessna. In 1926, on his own time and at his own expense, Cessna designed and built a five-place monoplane powered by a 110hp Anzani air-cooled radial. When NAT invited Travel Air to submit a bid to build a small fleet of single-engine transports capable of carrying mail and four passengers, Cessna’s prototype served as the inspiration for the design that would become the Travel Air 5000. In January 1927 NAT awarded Travel Air a contract for eight airplanes with larger dimensions than the prototype. The Travel Air fleet cost the airline $128,676, and all the transports had been delivered by mid1927. Among them was Type 5000 constructor number 172, registered as N3002 and designated NAT No. 17. Its four-place cabin featured wicker-type seats, sliding windows for ventilation in summer and a heating system that provided only minimal warmth in cold weather. During the rebuilding process, four wicker seats were installed in the fuselage, but the cabin still lacks much of its original detail. Besides Amon Carter’s airplane, the only other Type 5000 extant is Woolaroc, a custom-built, long-range version that won the 1927 Dole Air Race, now on permanent display at the Woolaroc Museum in Bartlesville, Okla. The fate of the other seven NAT Travel Airs has not been documented, but they apparently disappeared from the NAT fleet as new and more efficient airline transports became available in the early 1930s. 

The pilot looked out an opening overhead.

LANNY PARCELLS

Kan.—the self-styled “Air Capital of the World”—the cabin monoplane was the second of eight examples constructed for NAT’s contract airmail route service in the Midwest, including the Chicago–Fort Worth route designated CAM-3. According to the Fort Worth Aviation Museum, NAT’s Travel Air transport was the first passengercarrying airplane employed by a scheduled airline to serve Fort Worth, operating from Meacham Field. In 1931 Carter parked the Travel Air outside at his Shady Oak Farm on Lake Worth. By 1963, when Hansen acquired the airplane, it had deteriorated into a dilapidated, skeletal airframe barely recognizable as a Type 5000. The cotton fabric on the wings and fuselage had long since withered away, the steel tube empennage was rusted and twisted, and the wooden wings had rotted and collapsed. As for the engine, the Wright J-5CA 9-cylinder radial was a severely corroded hulk that had seized internally, according to Tom Swindle, who with Dave Ozee handled most of the engine work. “We only attempted a cosmetic preservation of the power plant because it was so badly deteriorated from decades of exposure to the outside elements,” Swindle said. Although the engine appears complete externally, internally it is missing seven of the nine pistons, the cam ring and all the pushrods. “Two of the pistons were so badly seized we could not remove them, and the cylinder barrels had completely rusted through in places,” he explained. The two Bosch magnetos mounted on the engine’s front crankcase had seized and could not be salvaged, but Swindle and Ozee did replace the deteriorated ignition leads for the radial’s 18 spark plugs with a replica harness closely resembling the original. In addition, both blades of the ground-adjustable Hamilton Standard steel propeller were severely pitted. Through sheer determination, Parcells and his crew managed to resurrect both blades and the hub via aggressive treatment and polishing. They eventually restored the propeller to a cosmetic state sufficient for static display. Hodgson, who helped initiate discussions between MorningStar Capital and Harry Hansen, recalled that when the corporation acquired the Travel Air, the wooden wings had been mostly rebuilt and welded steel tubing had been used to create a new fu-

The propeller required special attention.

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

19

N EW

“My friends all hate their cell phones… I love mine!” Here’s why.

No t C on t r a c

r d ife tte an y L Be d ter un at So r B e ng Lo

ADVERTISEMENT

FREE Car Charge r

Say good-bye to everything you hate about cell phones. Say hello to Jitterbug. “Cell phones have gotten so small, I can barely dial mine” Not Jitterbug®, it features a larger keypad for easier dialing. It even has an oversized display so you can actually see it. “I had to get my son to program it” Your Jitterbug set-up process is simple. We’ll even pre-program it with your favorite numbers.

More minute plans available. Ask your Jitterbug expert for details.

“I tried my sister’s cell phone… I couldn’t hear it” Jitterbug is designed with an improved speaker. There’s an adjustable volume control, and Jitterbug is hearing-aid compatible.

“My cell phone company wants to lock me in on a two-year contract!” Not Jitterbug, there’s no contract to sign and no penalty if you discontinue your service. “I’ll be paying for minutes I’ll never use!” Not with Jitterbug, unused minutes carry over to the next month, there’s no roaming fee and no additional charge for long distance.

“I don’t need stock quotes, Internet sites or games on my phone, I just want to talk with my family and friends” Life is complicated enough… Jitterbug is simple. “What if I don’t remember a number?” Friendly, helpful Jitterbug operators are available 24 hours a day and will even greet you by name when you call.

“My phone’s battery only lasts a couple of days” The Jitterbug’s battery lasts for up to 25 days on standby.

“I’d like a cell phone to use in an emergency, but I don’t want a high monthly bill” Jitterbug has a plan to fit your needs… and your budget. Available in Blue, Red (shown) and White.

Order now and receive a FREE Car Charger for your Jitterbug – a $24.99 value. Call now!

Enough talk. Isn’t it time you found out more about the cell phone that’s changing all the rules? Call now, Jitterbug product experts are standing by.

NEW Jitterbug5 Cell Phone Call toll free today to get your own Jitterbug5. Please mention promotional code 48789.

1-877-686-1505 www.jitterbugdirect.com

47618

We proudly accept the following credit cards. ®

IMPORTANT CONSUMER INFORMATION: Jitterbug is owned by GreatCall, Inc. Your invoices will come from GreatCall. All rate plans and services require the purchase of a Jitterbug phone and a one-time set up fee of $35. Coverage and service is not available everywhere. Other charges and restrictions may apply. Screen images simulated. There are no additional fees to call Jitterbug’s 24-hour U.S. Based Customer Service. However, for calls to an Operator in which a service is completed, minutes will be deducted from your monthly balance equal to the length of the call and any call connected by the Operator, plus an additional 5 minutes. Monthly minutes carry over and are available for 60 days. If you exceed the minute balance on your account, you will be billed at 35¢ for each minute used over the balance. Monthly rate plans do not include government taxes or assessment surcharges. Prices and fees subject to change. 1We will refund the full price of the GreatCall phone and the activation fee (or set-up fee) if it is returned within 30 days of purchase in like-new condition. We will also refund your first monthly service charge if you have less than 30 minutes of usage. If you have more than 30 minutes of usage, a per minute charge of 35 cents will be deducted from your refund for each minute over 30 minutes. You will be charged a $10 restocking fee. The shipping charges are not refundable. Jitterbug and GreatCall are registered trademarks of GreatCall, Inc. Samsung is a registered trademark of Samsung Electronics Co., Ltd. ©2014 Samsung Telecommunications America, LLC. ©2014 GreatCall, Inc. ©2014 by firstSTREET for Boomers and Beyond, Inc.

LETTER FROM AVIATION HISTORY

By Carl von Wodtke

Keep On Dreaming

N

Not long after we sent our last issue to the printer, with a “Letter” extolling innovation by private aerospace companies, dual disasters struck that industry. On October 28, an Orbital Sciences Antares rocket carrying cargo for the International Space Station exploded 15 seconds after liftoff from Virginia’s Wallops Island launch facility. Then three days later Virgin Galactic’s SpaceShipTwo crashed in the Mojave Desert after breaking apart during a rocket-powered test flight, killing copilot Michael Alsbury and seriously injuring pilot Peter Siebold. The twin tragedies sent a shockwave through the nascent commercial aerospace industry, and led some to question the wisdom of relying on private enterprise for the challenging task of sending cargo and astronauts into space. But as Virgin Galactic CEO George Whitesides observed following the accident: “Space is hard, and today was a tough day....The future rests, in many ways, on hard days like this. But we believe we owe it to the folks who were flying these vehicles as well as the folks who have been working so hard on them to understand this and to move forward, which is what we’ll do.” Orbital, for its part, announced plans to discontinue using refurbished Soviet-era rocket engines, the suspected cause of the Antares accident. Amid these setbacks were hopeful signs that aerospace dreamers will continue to innovate, regardless of the risks. Four days before the Antares blowup, Google executive Alan Eustace attached himself to a giant helium-filled balloon (see photo at right), ascended to almost 136,000 feet in a specially designed pressure suit and fell to earth at speeds in excess of Mach 1 (story, P. 11). The parachute jump, conducted with little fanfare, broke records set by Felix Baumgartner in his highly publicized 2012 effort sponsored by Red Bull. On November 10, NASA announced that it had closed a deal with Google subsidiary Planetary Ventures to lease part of the former Moffett Field Naval Air Station near San Francisco, where the company will establish facilities for “research, development, assembly and testing in the areas of space exploration, aviation, rover/robotics and other emerging technologies,” according to a NASA statement (story, P. 12). The aerospace agency manages the site, which is home to three huge hangars, including the eight-acre Hangar One, built in 1933 to house the U.S. Navy airship Macon. Most inspiring of all, on November 13 an enraptured world watched as the European Space Agency pulled off an amazing achievement by landing a spacecraft on the surface of a comet. The 10-year Rosetta mission culminated in the landing by the washing-machinesized Philae, “the little lander that could.” Although Philae bounced unexpectedly into a shady spot and subsequently went into hibernation due to lack of power, the Rosetta team hopes it will return to operation this spring or summer once the comet gets closer to the sun, enabling the lander’s solar cells to recharge its batteries. Then with luck it can get back to its original mission, which is no less than sampling and analyzing the building blocks of our solar system. As has been the case since before the Wright brothers, when faced with setbacks aerospace innovators invariably get back up, dust themselves off and go to work again. That’s what Orbital and Virgin Galactic are doing, and that’s what other private aerospace companies will do when they experience the inevitable difficulties inherent in pushing the boundaries of technological progress. After all, this is literally rocket science. 

REX FEATURES VIA AP IMAGES

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

21

S ’ E F F A W T F U L ON NEW Y

EAR’S D

RS AGO, AY 70 YEA

THE GER

ORCE LA MAN AIR F

UNCHED

BY DON HOLLWAY

I

n the early morning hours of the first day of 1945, Allied pilots in northwest Europe might have expected to see pink elephants before they saw Nazi aircraft. Since the Normandy invasion, Royal Air Force and U.S. Army Air Forces fighters had largely driven the Luftwaffe from the skies. Poor late-December weather had hindered efforts to counter the German ground offensive in the Ardennes—the Battle of the Bulge—but with the new year dawning cold and clear, all that prevented a renewed Allied aerial assault was aircrew hangovers.

22

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

©2014 JACK FELLOWS, ASAA

! W O L B T LAS MAJ ITS FINAL

OR OFF

E HE BULG T F O E L ATT AERIAL B N A : E IV ENS

In an illustration by Jack Fellows, two Fw-190A-8s of 9th Staffel, Jagdgeschwader 11 (9/JG.11), and Me-109G-14s of II Gruppe, JG.11, swarm the American airfield near Asch, Belgium, on January 1, 1945. Meanwhile, 1st Lt. Alden Rigby of the 487th Squadron, 352nd Fighter Group, taxies for takeoff in his P-51D.

Two Republic P-47Ds of the 365th Fighter-Bomber Group “Hell Hawks” take off from Chievres, Belgium, to strafe German positions during the Battle of the Bulge.

Hermann Göring confers with Adolf Galland (left) and (below left) with Operation Bodenplatte’s architect, Dietrich Peltz. Below: Some of the P-47s destroyed at Metz, France, during the German offensive.

“

THEY PASSED ON BOTH SIDES AND MANY WERE NEARER THE GROUND THAN MY PERCH. I SHALL

“The first hours of 1945 were spent letting in the New Year, wishing each other all the best and having a few beers,” recalled Leading Aircraftsman Desmond Shepherd, an armorer with RAF No. 137 Squadron at Eindhoven, Netherlands. “After breakfast I was crossing the runway, going toward the armoury....At that moment I heard gunfire. Looking up the runway I saw what looked like an Me-262 jet go streaking above my head. This was closely followed by several Fw-190s, and coming in the other direction were several Me-109s. I threw myself down onto the grass at the side of the runway.” Sergeant Peter Crowest, an RAF air controller at Ursel, Belgium, reported for duty at 0900 hours. “We barely had time to judge the extent of our hangovers from the ‘night before’ when we heard and saw a squadron of low-flying fighters approaching. An enquiry from my CO as to whether we were expecting Spitfires was

24

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

answered when I said they were not Spitfires but Focke Wulf 190s. Moments later I was firmly gripping the ground!” With German fighters raking his field at Knokke, Belgium, Squadron Leader G. Dickinson made an urgent call to headquarters, only to be told, “This is January 1st, old boy, not April 1st.” Then he heard, “My God, the bastards are here!” and the line went dead. Anyone receiving the multiple reports of simultaneous attacks across northwest Europe might have thought the Luftwaffe was attacking all at once, and would very nearly have been right. It was not, however, the same Luftwaffe that had blitzed through the Low Countries in 1940. Germany had no shortage of fighter aircraft, but possessed little fuel and few veterans left to fly them. As 176-victory ace Colonel Johannes “Macky” Steinhoff put it: “We were assigned young pilots who were timid, inexperienced and scared…[and] not yet ready for combat. It was hard enough leading and keeping

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: NATIONAL ARCHIVES; U.S. AIR FORCE; DIZ MÜNCHEN GMBH, SUEDDEUTSCHE ZEITUNG PHOTO/ALAMY; BPK

a large formation of experienced fighter pilots; with youngsters it was hopeless.” Colonel Günther Lützow noted, “Our young pilots survive a maximum of two or three Reich Defense missions before they’re killed.” General of Fighters Adolf Galland had long seen the futility of battling fighters while bombers devastated German cities. He wanted to concentrate his forces beyond enemy escorts’ reach and attack the bombers all at once: a Grosser Schlag, or Great Blow. New long-range Allied fighters, however, left no place for such a blow to be struck. By October 1944, Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring, feeling Adolf Hitler’s wrath, blamed everything on his fighter pilots and their general in particular. “Mustangs are practically doing training flights over Bavaria,” he railed, tearing off Galland’s medals in front of all his men. “I’ll put them back on when your damned fighter pilots start shooting planes down again.” Galland’s Great Blow was handed over to Brig. Gen. Dietrich Peltz. What Galland was to fighters, Peltz was to bombers: an experienced Junkers Ju-87 Stuka and Ju-88 ground-attack expert. Plus, at just 30 years old, he was ambitious and loyal, and obsequious where Galland was obstreperous. Instead of a Great Blow in the air, Peltz wanted to destroy Allied fighters before they ever took off. Code-named Bodenplatte (baseplate), his operation—10 Jagdgeschwader (fighter wings) attacking 16 airfields of the British Second and U.S. Ninth Tactical air forces in Holland, Belgium and France—originally was supposed to be flown in support of Hitler’s December offensive, but whenever the Ardennes sky cleared it was full of Allied fighters. The Luftwaffe had lost more than 600 aircraft and almost 350 pilots by New Year’s Eve, when a coded “go” signal went out to fighter bases across northern Germany: The Great Blow was on for the next morning. “Maintaining complete radio silence up to the moment of attack, all Geschwader will fly low over the frontier simultaneously in the early hours of the morning, to take the enemy air forces by surprise and catch them on the ground.” Timed less for enemy inebriation than sunny skies, Bodenplatte would nevertheless be remembered as the “Hangover Raid.” In contrast to the festivities on the Allied side, celebrations and alcohol

were verboten that night to German pilots, who mostly went to bed early, slept if they could and rose in the wee hours. Ground crews worked all night to ready every plane. Nineteen-year-old pilot Sergeant Werner Molge never forgot his arrival at base: “When we turned in at the field, a fantastic sight spread out in front of our eyes. The aircraft of all the Staffeln had been taxied from their dispersals by the ground crews and were lined up at the field, as if for parade inspection. Fifty Fw-190D-9s in the last light of the moon.” At this point few Germans dared to fly over formerly occupied countries in daylight, let alone before dawn; it was doubtful they could even find targets on their own. Ju-88 and Ju-188 night fighters took off first as pathfinders, dropping flares for them to follow. According to Peltz’s plan, all would arrive over their targets at the same time: 9:20 a.m.—at those latitudes in midwinter, just after dawn.

B

efore the sun rose on 1945 an ominous roar echoed over the Arnhem Salient. The Allies had been launching thousandplane raids for years, but these were headed the other way: more than a thousand German fighters crossing the lines just 150 feet off the ground, beneath Allied radar. Corporal Geoffrey Coucke, a radar technician manning the top of the lighthouse on Walcheren Island in the Scheldt River, was caught completely off guard by “hordes of [German] planes flying towards the Belgian coast. They passed on both sides and many were nearer the ground than my perch. I shall always remember that grandstand view of the last major effort of the Luftwaffe.” Such low flying, however, made the German fighters easy prey for anti-aircraft gunners on both sides. Orders had been passed to German flak crews to expect large formations of friendly aircraft, but many never got the word. Sergeant Erich Heider, flying a pathfinder Ju-88 for Jagdgeschwader 26 (JG.26), was forced to take evasive action near the Ijssel River. “This was German, our own flak!” he later exclaimed. “Only shouts of anger were our answer. What a mess, and this following several weeks of preparation. The operational plan was no good.” Bad planning extended to target selection as well. JG.26 split

ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT GRANDSTAND VIEW OF THE LAST MAJOR EFFORT OF THE LUFTWAFFE. A Douglas Dakota burns at the RAF base at Melsbroek, Belgium, after Me-109s and Fw-190s attacked the airfield.

IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM CL1808

”

“

YOU’RE TOO LATE. IF I STICK THIS PHONE OUTSIDE YOU’LL HEAR THEIR BLOODY CANNONS!

Top, from left: Lt. Col. John Meyer commanded the 352nd Fighter Group; preheating a Hawker Typhoon at Melsbroek; the 352nd’s Captain William Whisner claimed six victories on November 21, 1944, and added four on January 1. Above: 2nd Lt. Theo Nibel belly-landed his Fw-190D-9 at Grimbergen.

up. Half found the field at Grimbergen, Belgium, deserted; 132 Wing RAF had recently moved up to Woensdrecht, Netherlands, which escaped attack completely. The half-dozen aircraft remaining, however, were protected by a full contingent of flak crews. To destroy a few B-17s, a Lancaster, Mustang and Spitfire, JG.26 traded 21 planes and 17 pilots lost. The rest of the wing attacked Brussels-Evere, one of the busiest fields in Belgium. Lieutenant Günther Bloemertz recalled their arrival: “Hundreds of bombers and fighters were standing drawn up on all sides of the field. Our bursts smacked into the parade. At that moment a few Spitfires were taking off—they moved right into the deadly hail, overturned, crashed or burst into flames.” 26

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

”

Headquarters rang the Evere flight office to warn there were German fighters reported in the area. “You’re too late,” Fight Lt. Frank Morton replied. “If I stick this phone outside you’ll hear their bloody cannons!” A sky-blue Beechcraft belonging to Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands and Air Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham’s new luxury Douglas Dakota transport came in for particular pastings. Coningham, the Second Tactical Air Force commander, arrived from Brussels to find his ride burning and most of his bleary-eyed men still returning from a night on the town. “The Air Marshal was a bit taken aback at the state of the officers and aircrew,” his driver recalled afterward. “He was not at all pleased (afterwards the rules of staying over all night were reviewed).” Not all the Allies were as hung over as the Germans might have hoped. Many bases had already launched dawn missions, some of which were even on the return run. Flight Lieutenant R.C. Smith’s Spitfire had fuel issues; he had aborted his flight and arrived back

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: U.S. AIR FORCE; IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM CL1783; U.S. AIR FORCE; WEIDER HISTORY ARCHIVE

REVOLT OF

Far left: Galland with Colonel Günther “Franzl” Lützow. Left: Johannes “Macky” Steinhoff.

THE ACES G

eneral of Fighters Adolf Galland called Operation Bodenplatte “the final dagger thrust in the back of the Luftwaffe,” but he still got the blame. On January 13, 1945, Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring dismissed him. Galland wrote, “I am glad I was sacked… from a command which clung to concepts of warfare, and especially of air warfare, which were opposed to mine.” The next day, “Black Sunday,” the U.S. Eighth Air Force resumed bombing Germany. The Luftwaffe launched more than 200 fighters, including a dozen Me-262 jets. They shot down 17 bombers and 11 fighters, but at a cost of well over 150 of their own, including more than 50 lost to the Mustangs of the 357th Fighter Group, the largest single-day tally of any American fighter group in the war. Two days later, when the Eighth flew a raid all the way to Magdeburg, the Germans could not mount a single sortie in its defense. The following Monday, January 22, the cream of surviving German aces converged on Luftwaffe headquarters in Berlin, including Lt. Col. Josef Priller, Colonel Hermann Graf and Colonel

Hannes Trautloft. With more than 900 aerial victories among them, the pilots were led by “Macky” Steinhoff and “Franzl” Lützow, former commander of fighter operations in northwest Europe, who spoke for them at their tense meeting with Göring. (Galland, blacklisted, could not attend.) “Your Jagdwaffe [fighter force] is still in a position to relieve the country by putting at least a temporary stop to the bomb terror,” Lützow told Göring. “We believe, however, that this means concentrating all efforts on fighter operations as systematically as possible. Things like the dismissal of General Galland, the former General of Fighter Pilots, seem to us to be barking up the wrong tree.”“I’ve never heard anything like it!” Göring blustered. “Are you trying to accuse me of not having built a strong Luftwaffe?” “But since then, Reichsmarschall,” Lützow said, “you have been asleep!” The aces’ list of recommendations, not to say demands, included reinstatement of Galland, removal of Dietrich Peltz, shifting still-plentiful bomber crews from reserve units into

at Eindhoven at the same time as JG.3. One against 40, Smith plunged to the attack, scoring a Messerschmitt and attacking nine others before running out of ammo. But Eindhoven’s rocket-firing Hawker Typhoons, which had run amok over German tank columns for six months, now found themselves on the receiving end. Three squadrons were taxiing for takeoff when the Germans swept in low from the southwest, with Lt. Col. Heinrich Bär, one of the war’s highest-scoring aces, in the lead. He caught a pair of “Tiffies” taking off. Flight Lieutenant Peter Wilson, on his first mission as leader of 438 Squadron, veered off the runway and climbed out to die minutes later of stomach wounds. His wingman, Flying Officer Ross Keller, barely got airborne when Bär shot him down; he was later found in the burned wreckage of his Typhoon. JG.3 destroyed almost 30 enemy planes, damaged another 30 and lost about 30 of their own. If the entire operation had gone the way of Eindhoven, Bodenplatte would have been deemed a success. For the most part, however, the German pilots’ inexperience

FROM LEFT: BUNDESARCHIV BILD 101I-468-1421.36 PHOTO KETELHOHN; BUNDESARCHIV BILD 183-H26031 PHOTO 0. ANG

fighters and, as they delicately put it, “a series of false decisions to systematically be put right.” It was beneath the mighty Reichsmarschall, however, to tolerate criticism. “You presume to dictate to me how I should be running my Luftwaffe....What you’re presenting me with here, gentlemen, is treason— mutiny!…I’ll have you shot!” Under house arrest, Galland was contemplating suicide when Hitler ordered Göring to “Stop this nonsense at once.” Chastened, the Reichsmarschall instead sentenced the leading mutineers to death by combat. As members of the all-jet fighter squadron Jadgverband 44, on April 18 Steinhoff was badly burned in a takeoff crash; on the 24th Lützow was shot down and killed; and on the 26th Galland too went down, wounded. Still, they finished their war as fighter pilots. “I went into the war as a lieutenant and a squadron captain, and should end it as a lieutenant general,” Galland wrote in his memoirs, “and a squadron captain.” D.H.

showed. Rather than hit and run low and fast, they popped up to circle back for more, giving AA crews a second or third go at them. Flight Lieutenant Ronnie Sheward, acting CO of 263 Squadron at Antwerp-Deurne, remembered “standing on a bank with my pilots and yelling at the Germans, ‘Weave, you stupid bastards!’ They were flying straight and level and being shot at by the ground forces....AA got 9, Mustangs 2.” Group Captain Denys Gillam of 146 Wing concurred: “If any of my boys put on a show like that I’d tear them off a strip.”

A

sch, Belgium, was home to the P-47 “Hun Hunters” of the Ninth Air Force’s 366th Fighter Group and blue-nosed P-51s of the 352nd, on loan from the Eighth. The Thunderbolts were returning from a morning raid on German tanks near St. Vith when they spotted 50 inbound fighters of JG.11. First Lieutenant Melvyn Paisley of Red Flight, 390th Squadron, piloting his P-47 La Mort, downed four of them, one with an unconventional attack.

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

27

Sergeant Herbert Maxis of 13/JG.53 crash-landed his Me-109G-14 after being hit by flak near Ittersdorf.

“

WE HAD A RUNWAY-SIDE POSITION AT THE DAMNEDEST DOGFIGHT!

“Instead of using my guns, I chose to initiate my attack with the rockets I was carrying,” he said. “I missed him with the first two, but got him with the third.” Landing, he called for his ground crew to rearm his “Jug” for another go. “The field was still under attack and they were not about to reload....My flying was over for the day.” Lieutenant Colonel John C. Meyer’s Mustangs were scheduled for a bomber escort mission that afternoon, but he’d wangled permission for an early-morning combat air patrol and had just started his takeoff roll. “Immediately upon getting my wheels up I spotted 15-plus 190s headed toward the field from the east,” he reported. “I attacked one getting a two second burst at 300 yards, 30 degree deflection, getting good hits on the fuselage and wing roots.” The Focke Wulf, flown by Private Gerhard Böhm, half-rolled, caught a wingtip and cartwheeled across the field. “I then selected another 190,” Meyer reported. “I attacked but periodically had to break off because of intense friendly ground fire....On the last attack the E/A [enemy aircraft] started smoking profusely and then crashed into the ground.” Meyer’s score came to 24 by war’s end. “We had a runway-side position at the damnedest dogfight!” remembered an Asch ground crewman, one of many who gathered below to pop off a few rounds from their Colt .45s and watch the Germans pepper an abandoned Flying Fortress. “It was a hulk, had been cannibalized of everything that could be used....Nine or ten Jerries would go for the B-17 and try to get a big victory, but it had no fuel or anything to catch fire, so it just sat there and absorbed their gunfire like a large sponge!” One of Meyer’s section leaders, Captain William T. Whisner, got a 190 immediately after takeoff, but his Mustang was hit in the wings and oil cooler. “Being over friendly territory,” he reported, “I could see no reason for landing immediately so turned toward a big dogfight.” In the melee he scored another 190 and a 109. “By this time I saw fifteen or twenty fires from crashed planes....I saw a 109 strafe the NE end of the strip. I started after him, and he turned into me. We made two head-on passes, and on the second I hit in the nose and wings. He crashed and burned east of the strip.” Four kills made “Whiz” another of the Allies’ top scorers for the day. He went on to score a total of 15½ victories in Europe and 5½ over Korea 28

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

”

(see “The Magnificent Seven,” November 2014 issue). Altogether the Americans at Asch knocked down 32 enemy planes—40 percent of JG.11. “We hope at least one of their pilots got back to tell the story,” said 366th commander Colonel H. Norman Holt. “They’d think twice before trying it again.” By noon Bodenplatte was finished. The surviving Germans fled in ones and twos back toward Germany, leaving smoking airfields in their wake. Results were mixed at best. Evere lost 34 aircraft destroyed, 29 damaged; Melsbroek, Belgium, 35 destroyed, nine damaged. Others, like Heesch in the Netherlands and Le Culot in Belgium, got off virtually unscathed. Altogether the Luftwaffe destroyed about 250 Allied planes and damaged 150, but lost more than 200 pilots killed or captured (including three wing commodores, five group commanders and 14 squadron leaders). Nearly half fell to flak, too much of which was their own. It can only be speculated whether Germany would have achieved more, or lost more, in Galland’s aerial Grosser Schlag. One of the Luftwaffe’s largest single-day missions, Bodenplatte was also its largest singleday loss. Sergeant Stefan Kohl, downed by flak at Metz-Frescaty (where JG.53 suffered a 48-percent loss rate), put a brave face on things, refusing to have his photo taken by his captors until he had combed his hair and polished his boots. He spoke fluent English, and under interrogation by 386th Fighter Squadron CO Major George Brooking answered by pointing out a window at wrecked Thunderbolts smoldering on the field. “What do you think of that?” Brooking gave his reply a few days later, before Kohl was shipped off to POW camp. A fleet of shiny new replacement P-47s had already arrived from Paris. It was as if Bodenplatte had never happened, and Brooking asked, “What do you think of that?” “That,” the German nodded ruefully, “is what is beating us.”  For the German view of Bodenplatte, frequent contributor Don Hollway recommends Bodenplatte: The Luftwaffe’s Last Hope, by John Manhro and Ron Pütz. For the American side, try Danny S. Parker’s To Win the Winter Sky: Air War Over the Ardennes, 19441945. For more photos and video, visit donhollway.com/bodenplatte.

WEIDER HISTORY ARCHIVE

MODELING

BUILD ‘PIPS’ PRILLER’S FW-190D-9 amiya’s Focke Wulf Fw-190D-9 is an inexpensive, simple-to-assemble 1/48th-scale German World War II fighter. Though some claim the wings are incorrect, it builds into an attractive model with few problems. Begin by painting the cockpit interior Schwarzgrau, RLM-66. The instrument side consoles should be flat black, FS-37038. There are only minor raised details in this area, but you can highlight them with a gray Prismacolor pencil. The instrument panel needs only the kit decal to create a convincing replica. Finish off the cockpit with seat-belt decals from the kit and a spray of silver for the rudder pedals. Glue the horizontal stabilizers into the tail section from the inside of the fuselage. While the cockpit paint is drying, spray the sidewalls RLM-66, then assemble the fuselage pieces. Tamiya cleverly designed the cockpit interior to drop into place from the underside of the airframe. Leave the exhaust stacks off once you’ve finished the final painting. Next cement the main landing gear bay into the bottom of the lower wing, then spray it Grau, RLM-02. Carefully fit and glue the top wing pieces to the fuselage. This out-of-sequence step will eliminate any chance that the usually poor-fitting wing-to-fuselage joint will require sanding and filling. Once the upper wing attachments are solid, glue the bottom parts together and clamp them in place. Next glue the wings to the bottom of the fuselage, carefully fitting them into place to avoiding sanding and filling later. The long nose of the D-9, or Langnase, was due to the installation of the Junkers Jumo 213, an inline 12-cylinder

T

DICK SMITH

engine. This power plant reportedly gave the German fighter better performance than the North American P-51D. There are no engine parts in this kit, but you can choose to show open or closed cowl flaps, along with a cooling fan that fits inside the cowl ring. Brush the fan silver, with a black wash to bring out the details. At this point the basic model is complete, except for gluing the upper fuselage’s dual 13mm machine gun bay into place and attaching the supercharger intake on the starboard fuselage. Lieutenant Colonel Josef “Pips” Priller flew one of 39 Fw-190D-9s of Jagdgeschwader 26 from FurstenauHandrup. With more than 100 confirmed victories, Priller led JG.26 on one of the Bodenplatte New Year’s Day 1945 attacks on Allied airfields at Brussels-Evere. According to Luftwaffe Fighter Aircraft in Profile, by Claes Sundin and Christer Bergström, Priller’s D-9 wore standard late-war camouflage, with Lichtblau, RLM-76, undersides. The tops of its wings were painted in what appears to be a soft pattern of Grauviolet, RLM-75, and Dunkelgrün, RLM-83. The sides of the

fuselage, up to the cockpit area, carry the underside color, with splotches of the green and gray. The top of the fuselage was sprayed in an irregular pattern of RLM-75 and 83. The aft section of the airframe wore black-and-white recognition stripes. The forward portion of the fighter bore a stylized black hawk-like representation reminiscent of the black eagle on Priller’s Fw-190A-3. The propeller was painted Schwarzgrün, RLM70, with a black spinner adorned with a white spiral. Note that what was thought to be Priller’s last aircraft was captured after WWII, and American troops painted out the aircraft’s original markings. Sundin and Bergström indicate that all the markings were painted over in white; however, the original black 14 still showed through, along with all the other JG.26 markings. The authors say it appears that Priller’s “ace of hearts” personal marking is visible just under the cockpit. I took the markings for my D-9 from various sheets from Cutting Edge, Super Scale and also from Priller’s Fw-190A-3 kit. Dick Smith

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

29

THE MIRACULOUS

MOS DE HAVILLAND’S VERSATILE WOODEN WONDER RACKED UP AN ADMIRABLE COMBAT RECORD WITHIN A REMARKABLY SHORT TIMESPAN BY STEPHAN WILKINSON

0

Of the hundreds of types of aircraft that flew in World War II, every warbirder could come up with a list of the dozen most iconic. Spitfire, P-51, Zero, Stuka, Me-109, PBY, B-17, Corsair, Lancaster, B-29, Fw-190, Me-262…the candidates are nearly endless, and most lists would differ. But it’s a fair bet that many would include the Timber Terror, the Loping Lumberyard, the Wooden Wonder: the de Havilland Mosquito. It could be argued that no airplane amassed as remarkable a combat record in so short a time as did the Mosquito. It entered the war relatively late, a year to the day after the Battle of Britain ended, but it debuted with technology and aerodynamics far more advanced than the Spitfire’s. Certainly no airplane flew as many

30

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

different kinds of missions and performed them as well as the Mosquito, one of the world’s first successful multirole combat aircraft. The Tornado strives to be its successor; the F-35 should be so lucky. The Mosquito was an unarmed bomber with a crew of two, able to carry a bigger bombload farther than a B-17. It was also a fighter-bomber and a night fighter with an eight-gun nose battery. It was the most productive photoreconnaissance aircraft of the war. A high-speed courier. A weather-recon airplane. A carrier-qualified torpedo bomber (though too late to see combat). A pathfinder and target-marker for heavy bombers. The war’s most effective extreme-low-altitude intruder. A multiengine trainer and a high-

GAVIN CONROY

QUITO

Jerry Yagen’s restored DH-98, part of the Military Aviation Museum collection, is one of just two Mosquitos now flying.

speed target tug. A decoy frequently used to convince the Luftwaffe that three or four spoof-raid Mosquitos dropping chaff were a bomber stream of Lancasters. Many other airplanes did many of these missions, but none did them all. Mosquitos were built in 33 different variants during WWII and seven that were introduced after the war, at a time when everything else with a propeller was being shunted off to reserve and training units. It seemed such a benighted concept at the time: a bomber with no guns. After all, this was the era of the Flying Fortress, of fourengine aluminum overcasts carrying tons of machine guns, ammunition, ammo cans and belts, complex turret units…and add in the

weight of the gunners themselves, dressed in heavy heated gear, helmets and flak jackets, sucking oxygen from tanks that weighed substantial amounts. All this could add up to one-sixth of a heavy bomber’s empty weight—three extra tons, in the case of a B-17. Plus the drag of blisters and turrets, gun barrels poking into the slipstream and wide-open waist windows. The de Havilland Mosquito was the anti-Fortress, a bomber proposed to the Royal Air Force with speed as its salvation, not guns. Many forget that the Mosquito turned out to be the first of its kind and the B-17 the last of its line. Never since have bombers truly been armed defensively. The B-29 had four remotely controlled turrets until Curtis LeMay stripped the guns from them, preferring

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

31

Clockwise from top left: In November 1940, the DH-98 prototype is readied for its maiden flight near Salisbury Hall, where it was designed and built; an engineer checks out one of a Mosquito’s Rolls-Royce Merlins in 1943; employees of Walter Lawrence & Sons joinery, in Hertfordshire, build the wooden fuselages; Mosquitos are assembled at the de Havilland factory in Hatfield.

to carry bombs and fuel rather than guns made pointless by air superiority. B-52s had a tail battery—quad .50s and then a 20mm rotary cannon—but in 1991 that station was eliminated. Neither the RAF’s Canberra nor its V-bombers had a single gun. Neither did the F-117 stealth bomber, nor the B-1 and B-2. Since the day when the Mosquito went naked, guns on a bomber have been like tits on a boar.

D

e Havilland began design of the Mosquito on its own. Neither Geoffrey de Havilland nor his same-named son, who became the Mosquito’s chief test pilot, had any interest in dealing with the government, for their company had thrived during the 1920s and ’30s by concentrating on the civil market, where airplanes were bought because they got a job done, not because they met some blithering bureaucrat’s specifications. The senior de Havilland also had a champion: Air Marshal Sir Wilfred Freeman, who is often casually characterized as “a friend of de Havilland’s.” Which he certainly turned out to be, but the initial connection was that Freeman had commanded a squadron of de Havilland DH-4s during World War I and became a huge fan of that airplane. The DH-4 was one of the best single-engine bombers of the war—faster than many fighters—and remained in service with the U.S. Army Air Service as late as 1932. Freeman was confident that the de Havillands knew what they were talking about when it came to airplanes. He pushed hard enough in favor of the Mosquito that the airplane became known among its detractors as Freeman’s Folly. Lord Beaverbrook, the Crown’s aircraft produc32

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

tion czar, three times ordered him to shut down early Mosquito manufacturing. Fortunately, Beaverbrook never put it into writing, so Freeman ignored him. Still, it wasn’t easy for de Havilland to convince the Air Ministry that an unarmed wooden bomber faster than any contemporary fighter was the answer to Bomber Command’s needs. The obvious riposte to this too-neat theorization was that the enemy would inevitably develop faster fighters. The British could see what Germany had done in grand prix automobile racing and had no illusions about the country’s technological prowess. This proved to be true to a degree when advanced versions of the Fw-190 and the nitrous oxide–boosted Me-410 became operational, and absolutely true when the Me-262 twin-engine jet flew. But nobody had anticipated the mid-1940s plateau of propeller effectiveness and compressibility problems that would limit conventional fighters to speeds roughly equivalent to the Mosquito’s no matter how extreme their horsepower. The Mosquito was fast in 1940 and remained fast in 1945. Nonetheless, the Mosquito’s speed was a slightly exaggerated characteristic of the airplane. When the prototype flew in November 1940, it was certainly faster than contemporary frontline fighters, and for 2½ years after that first flight the Mosquito was the fastest operational aircraft in the world. But it should be remembered that no Mosquito ever went as fast (439 mph) as that slick lightweight did. By the time the Mosquito became operational, in September 1941, there were a number of faster singles being readied or already in service—the F4U Corsair, P-47 Thunderbolt, Hawker Typhoon CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: NATIONAL ARCHIVES; FOX PHOTOS/GETTY IMAGES; GETTY IMAGES; IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM TR 1426

de Havilland Mosquito FB Mk. VI

Specifications WINGSPAN: 54 ft. 2 in. LENGTH: 41 ft. 2 in. MAXIMUM SPEED: 378 mph at 13,200 ft. MAXIMUM TAKEOFF WEIGHT: 22,300 lbs. RANGE: 1,120 miles SERVICE CEILING: 26,000 ft. POWER: Two 1,620-hp Rolls-Royce Merlin 25 inline engines ARMAMENT: Four Browning .303-in. machine guns and four 20mm Hispano cannons, up to 2,000 lbs. of bombs or eight unguided rockets

and, more to the point, Focke Wulf Fw-190, which became a particularly potent Mosquito opponent. Some late-model 190s had as much as a 40-mph advantage over Mosquito bombers. Mosquitos relied as much upon altitude as they did pure speed to evade attack. If they were bounced from above, their saving grace lay in putting the nose down, maneuvering and hoping there were clouds in which to hide. Fortunately for the British, too few Me-262s were assigned to the air-superiority role, since Hitler wanted Schnellbombers. And for that, we can thank the Mosquito. When a single Mosquito flew a photorecon mission over Berlin in March 1943 and was fruitlessly chased by several Me-109s and Fw-190s, the Führer decided that, by God, he was going to have a fleet of superfast light bombers, and the 262 reluctantly accepted a role for which it was never intended. Hermann Göring was another Mosquito fan. “In 1940 I could fly as far as Glasgow in most of my aircraft, but not now!” he famously said. “It makes me furious when I see the Mosquito. I turn green and yellow with envy. The British, who can afford aluminum better than we can, knock together a beautiful wooden aircraft that every piano factory over there is building....They have the geniuses and we have the nincompoops.” Berlin was a frequent Mosquito target, for the airplane had the range to reach it and the heft to carry at first four 500-pound bombs and later as much as a 2-ton blockbuster bomb, and to do it at 35,000 feet. One famous three-plane Mosquito raid on Berlin in January 1943 was precisely timed to arrive just as Göring began an 11 a.m. radio address celebrating the Nazi party’s tenth anniverILLUSTRATION BY JOHN BATCHELOR

sary. Sounds of confusion could be heard in the background as the broadcast was rescheduled for later in the day. At 4 that afternoon more Mosquitos arrived to again interrupt a radio speech, this time by Joseph Goebbels. Though Mosquitos flew thousands of routine bombing missions, their most popular exploits were low-altitude, pinpoint hit-andrun raids, since the British media exploited them to the fullest. (The RAF smartly sent special camera planes along on some of the sorties to film the action.) With typical British understatement, they were called “nuisance raids.” Nuisance indeed: a four-aircraft attack on Gestapo headquarters in Oslo; a raid on the prison in Amiens that blew the walls to free 258 French Resistance fighters; six Mosquitos bombing an art gallery in The Hague that was packed with Gestapo records; raids on Gestapo HQ in the center of both Jutland and Copenhagen. (The press loved the fact that the Jutland raiders went in so low that one crew saw a Danish farmer in a field, saluting as they wailed by, and that during the Copenhagen raid the bombers literally flew down boulevards and banked into side streets.) Often the damage caused was light and collateral civilian losses were high—27 nuns and 87 children were killed in a Catholic school during the Copenhagen raid—but the effect on public morale was extreme. The Germans could run, but they couldn’t hide. Nobody was safe from the Wooden Wonder. And why, exactly, was it wooden? Certainly because spruce, birch plywood and Ecuadorean balsa weren’t strategic materials and were in plentiful supply. Because furniture factories, cabinetmakers, luxury-auto coachbuilders and piano makers could MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

33

From left: A ground crewman demonstrates the camera remote control in a photoreconnaissance (PR) Mosquito; arming the .303inch machine guns of a fighter-bomber (FB) variant; armorers load a 4,000-pound HC “cookie” bomb on a modified night bomber.

quickly be turned into subcontractors. Because wood, particularly when covered with a thin layer of doped fabric, makes a remarkably smooth, drag-cheating surface free of rivets and seams. And battle damage could be repaired relatively easily in the field. In April 1940, U.S. Army Air Forces General Hap Arnold brought to the U.S. a complete set of Mosquito blueprints, which were sent to five American aircraft manufacturers for comment. All were contemptuous of the British design, none more so than Beechcraft, which reported back, “This airplane has sacrificed serviceability, structural strength, ease of construction and flying characteristics in an attempt to use construction material that is not suitable for the manufacture of efficient airplanes.” Beech couldn’t have gotten it more wrong if they had tried. Wood’s chief advantage is that it’s easy to work with and is a material that craftspeople have been shaping and hammering for millennia. It is sometimes assumed that a further benefit of wood was that it reduced a Mosquito’s radar signature, but with the short-range Luftwaffe night-fighter radar in use during the war, that doesn’t seem to have been a factor. A number of Mosquitos fell to He-219s and Me-410s in particular, perhaps because of the radar reflectivity of the big Merlin engines and their huge prop discs. Wood is a composite, just as are the carbon/graphite-fiber materials used to make much of a Boeing 787 Dreamliner, and wood has the same qualities of strength, suppleness and light weight. Both wood and modern composites consist of tiny fibers suspended in a cellulose or polymer carrier—ingredients that by themselves have little strength but when combined create an extremely strong matrix. Today composites are bonded under heat and pressure, but wood requires plain old gluing. Early Mosquitos were assembled using casein glues, which were exactly what you can buy today in any hardware store under the rubric “woodworker’s glue.” Casein glues are milk byproducts (which is why the most common brand, Elmer’s, has the familiar cattle-head logo), so they provide munchies for microorganisms, particularly when the environment is wet and warm, as was the case when the first Mosquitos were sent to Southeast Asia. In the Pacific theater, some Mosquito glues turned cheesy, and upper wing skins debonded from the main spar. 34

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

The solution turned out to be two-part urea-formaldehyde glue, which de Havilland began using in the spring of 1943. The urea glue was applied to one wooden surface and the formaldehyde catalyst brushed onto the other. When the two were clamped together, in some places with the simple pressure of tiny brass brads, a waterproof bond stronger than the wood itself was formed. Mosquitos were internally coated with traditional marine varnishes, not nearly as waterproof as modern polyurethane coatings. So there were cases of Mosquito structural failures caused by simple wood rot—some among de Havilland of Canada–built airplanes, which were sometimes found to suffer from poorer workmanship and lower quality-control standards. A few Mosquitos—a total of 212—were also built in Australia, but that country had even bigger problems, with only a tiny cadre of aviation engineers and technicians to depend upon. The first 50 Australian-built Mosquito wings were so badly glued they had to be rebuilt.

T

he Mosquito was not an easy airplane to fly. As combat aircraft historian Bill Sweetman wrote in his book Mosquito, it was “a slightly nervous thoroughbred which could perform impressive feats in the hands of the courageous and competent… but would occasionally deal out a kick or a bite.” Its power-toweight ratio and wing loading were both high, and its Vmc—the speed that needs to be maintained to assure rudder effectiveness with one engine feathered and the other running at full power— was, depending on load, an eye-watering 172 mph or more, probably the highest of any WWII twin. The much-maligned B-26 Marauder had a Vmc of about 160 mph. There was a substantial no-man’s-land between liftoff and Vmc during which an engine failure was usually fatal. Below Vmc, power had to quickly be retarded on the good engine to keep the airplane from rolling, and this meant a loaded Mosquito could no longer maintain altitude. (As cynics have said, the only reason to have two engines on a piston twin is so the good one can take you to the scene of the accident.) When their mounts were fully gassed up and carrying a 4,000-pound blockbuster, Mosquito pilots learned to ignore normal liftoff speed and instead keep the airplane on the

FROM LEFT: IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM CH 10853; GETTY IMAGES; IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM CH 12621; OPPOSITE: NATIONAL ARCHIVES

I

“It makes me furious when I see the Mosquito. I turn green and yellow with envy. The British, who can afford aluminum better than we can, knock together a beautiful wooden aircraft that every piano factory over there is building....They have the geniuses and we have the nincompoops.” —HERMANN GÖRING

A Mosquito PR Mk. 34 banks hard, revealing its under-fuselage camera ports. Designed for the Pacific theater, this photorecon variant, which carried extra fuel as well as cameras in its belly, could fly 3,600 miles at 300 mph.

runway no matter how long it was and pull up when they were just 200 yards or so from the end. On takeoff, most multiengine airplanes exhibit little or none of the torque-roll/P-factor/slipstream-effect yaw of a powerful single, but a Mosquito’s engines needed to be handled carefully. The effect on yaw of the long, powerful outthrust engines was substantial. Leading with the left engine and opening the throttles judiciously helped, but Mosquitos didn’t have locking tailwheels to hold a heading during the first part of the takeoff roll. So a pilot had to use differential braking to catch takeoff swings, and in typical Brit fashion, a Mosquito’s pneumatic brakes were actuated by the rudder pedals but modulated by air pressure controlled via a bicyclebrake-like lever on the control column. Not a natural process. RAF Mosquito pilots were typically selected for their airmanship and experience, and they handled their Mosquitos with elite talent. The USAAF tried to operate 40 Mosquitos designated F-8 photoreconnaissance and meteorological aircraft, but they crashed many of them, some on the pilots’ very first Mosquito flights. (Granted, many of the crashes were due to mechanical problems.) The F-8 program was a debacle, and in September 1944 it was canceled. It had been championed by Lt. Col. Elliott Roosevelt, FDR’s son, a low-time private pilot who had been forbidden to fly military aircraft. He trained as a navigator and loved the Mosquito because it let him fly as a crew member on missions over North Africa and the Mediterranean, which of course his unit’s Spitfires and F-4s—photorecon P-38s—couldn’t. Other Twelfth Air Force pilots weren’t so sanguine, and they wrote that “the Mosquito with low- and medium-altitude engines is useless for our purposes. With the Merlin 61 engine its usability has yet to be proven.” Wright Field tested a Mosquito Mk. VII as part of the PR program and concluded it was “unstable in ascent at speed-of-bestclimb. It was tail-heavy and unstable longitudinally during landing approach, especially with full fuselage tanks and center of gravity located near the aft limit, and rather precarious for inexperienced pilots to land in this condition.” The Pilot’s Flight Operating Instructions warned: “This airplane is NOT designed for the same manoeuvres as a single-engine fighter, and care must be taken not to impose heavy stresses by coarse use of elevators in pulling out of dives or in turns at high speed. Intentional spinning is NOT permitted. At high speeds violent use and reversal of the rudder at large angles of

yaw are to be avoided....Tail heaviness and reduction of elevator control when the flaps are lowered is VERY MARKED....” The Mosquito required unusually light control forces, and they remained light at high speeds. Many other fast aircraft were selflimiting; their controls heavied up at speed and made it hard for a clumsy pilot to pull the wings or tail off. Not so the Mosquito.

T

here were three basic branches on the Mosquito tree: bombers, fighters and photoreconnaissance types. Each had many variants, such as radar-equipped night fighters and bombers modified to carry 2-ton blockbusters. The bombers and photo planes were unarmed, while most of the fighters carried four .303 machine guns in the nose and four 20mm cannons under the cockpit floor, their receivers and ammunition-feed mechanisms extending back into the bomb bay. Fighter Command insisted that its Mosquitos be equipped with sticks rather than bomber yokes, despite the fact that pilots swore the yokes made the aircraft more maneuverable. The fighters are also easily recognizable by their flat windscreens, suitable for gunsights, rather than the bombers’ more aerodynamic vee screens. There were Sea Mosquitos, though only 50 were built and the mark didn’t go into production until August 1946. Noted British test pilot Eric “Winkle” Brown did the original carrier-landing attempts, the first-ever multiengine aircraft carrier landings. Many were sure the shock of trapping would jerk the prototype Sea Mosquito’s tail right off, but the fuselage had been suitably strengthened. A far bigger danger was getting the Mosquito slow enough to make a reasonable carrier approach, and Brown knew he was flying on the back side of the power curve. The Mosquito had a vicious power-on stall that quickly snapped into a spin. “If we got low and slow on the approach it was going to be a fatality,” Brown later wrote, but he was able to hang the airplane on its props and get to the deck at just under 100 mph (a typical Mosquito approach was flown at 150 mph). As brave as Brown was, Indefatigable’s landing signal officer might have been braver. Photos of the first landing show “Paddles” standing on the centerline of the carrier deck, just ahead of the arresting cables. It was the only way Brown could see the LSO’s signals without their being obstructed by the left engine nacelle. Assumedly Paddles signaled “cut” and ran. The biggest gun ever mounted in a Mosquito was a 57mm can-

Left: Mosquito FB Mk. VIs of No. 140 Wing, No. 2 Group, raid the Gestapo headquarters in Jutland, Denmark, on October 31, 1944. Right: No. 248 Squadron FB Mk. VIs bomb a German minesweeper and auxiliary trawlers near Royan, France, on August 12, 1944.

36

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM C4762, C4551

Top left: The prototype Mk. 38 night fighter housed radar in its bulbous nose. Bottom left: The Sea Mosquito prototype; only 50 examples of this carrier aircraft were built. Right: Mk. IVs of No. 139 (Jamaica) Squadron fly in formation on February 10, 1943.

non called the Molins gun. It had a 25-round, rapid-fire ammunition feed designed and built by Molins, a formerly Cuban company that had become the world’s largest manufacturer of cigarettemaking and -packaging equipment. The 75mm gun mounted in hardnose B-25G and H Mitchells was obviously larger, but it had to be manually reloaded by the bomber’s navigator, so its rate of fire was about one-sixth that of the Molins gun. Many doubted that the Mosquito’s structure could withstand the Molins’ recoil, but de Havilland needed just one day—the time it took the factory to saw the nose off a crashed Mosquito, mount the 12-foot-long gun and test-fire it—to prove them wrong. The barrel recoiled 18 inches and hosed out a gout of flame 15 to 20 feet long, but the wooden airframe was flexible enough to dampen the shock. Mosquitos that carried the Molins were called “Tsetses,” after the deadly African fly. Their specialty was sub-hunting in the Bay of Biscay. The bay was so shallow that the German subs had to dash across while surfaced, and Tsetses picked off enough of them that soon the subs could only travel at night. Tsetses also destroyed more than a few Luftwaffe aircraft, and the effect of a 57mm projectile on, say, a Ju-88 was devastating. Another unusual weapon was the Highball, a Mosquito-size version of Barnes Wallis’ famous Dambuster bouncing bomb. It was developed for use against Tirpitz, the German battleship hidden away in a Norwegian fjord. The Highball was to be spun up in flight—two were carried in the open bomb bay of each Mosquito— by power from a ram-air turbine, which must have been one of the first-ever uses of a RAT. Highballs would be dropped at very low altitude to bounce over the torpedo netting that protected Tirpitz and then crawl down the hull to explode well below the waterline. Lancasters dropping 6-ton Tallboy bombs got to Tirpitz first, so the Highball airplanes and their weapons were sent to Australia to fly against the Japanese. Unfortunately, endless arguing about how the British carrier force should cooperate with the Americans who were running the Pacific War kept the Highballs hangared until

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: NATIONAL ARCHIVES; GETTY IMAGES; IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM ATP 15206B

war’s end, and they were ultimately destroyed as “secret weapons.” The biggest postwar user of surplus Mosquitos was the Nationalist Chinese Air Force, which bought somewhere between 180 and 205 of them from Canada. But the Chinese pilots wrote them off at a rapid rate, ultimately destroying 60 of their Mosquitos. One was made into a nonflying taxi-trainer by locking the landing gear down and installing a network of bracing tubes between struts and fuselage, though the Chinese managed to crash even that one. It’s hard to tell how many Mosquitos the Israeli Air Force operated, since their procurement methods in the late 1940s and early ’50s were so secretive, but they eventually may have had as many as 300. Those that flew operated mainly as photorecon aircraft, allowing the Israelis to snoop freely on their Arab neighbors. Despite the fact that the various Arab air forces were re-equipping with MiG-15s and the like, not a single IAF Mosquito was ever shot down, though repeated attempts were made to intercept them. The Mosquito’s combat career ended during the Suez Crisis, in 1956. Exactly 7,781 Mosquitos were built, the last one on November 15, 1950; 6,710 of them were delivered during WWII. The Mosquito outlived its supposed successor, the wood-and-aluminum de Havilland Hornet, by several months of RAF service. A new, larger, Merlin-powered Mosquito Series 2 airframe had been planned but never built, and the conceptualized “Super Mosquito” suffered the same fate. The Super Mosquito was to have been powered by 24-cylinder Napier Sabre engines, with a crew of three, an 8,000pound bombload and an estimated maximum speed of 430 mph. In 1951 the Mosquito was finally replaced by the English Electric Canberra, a gunless 580-mph jet that was designed to fly fast and high enough to evade all pursuers. Sound familiar?  For further reading, contributing editor Stephan Wilkinson recommends: Mosquito, by C. Martin Sharp and Michael J. F. Bowyer; Mosquito: The Original Multi-Role Combat Aircraft, by Graham M. Simons; and Mosquito, by Bill Sweetman and Rikyu Watanabe.

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

37

THE IRON EAGLE’S LAST FLIGHT

After Hans-Ulrich Rudel ended his combat career by purposely crash-landing on an American airfield, the defiant Nazi refused to surrender BY MICHAEL LOFTUS LANGDON

When Colonel Hans-Ulrich Rudel (above) saw the 405th Fighter Group’s men lined up for a dress review at Kitzingen, Germany, on May 8, 1945, he mistakenly thought it had been ordered in his honor.

38

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

ALL PHOTOS COURTESY OF MICHAEL LOFTUS LANGDON, EXCEPT WHERE NOTED; TOP: BUNDESARCHIV BILD 101I-502-0183-08 PHOTO SPERLING

E

arly on May 8, 1945, the most decorated German soldier of World War II, Colonel Hans-Ulrich Rudel, wing commander of Schlachtgeschwader 2 “Immelmann,” learned from the German high command that the war had ended. He was told to order his men to travel west to avoid being captured by the Russians. Some flew back to their hometowns rather than surrender, but for Rudel, whose home was near Russian-occupied Görlitz, that was out of the question. Considering his options, he decided to surrender to the Americans, in the hope that he would receive medical attention for his right leg, which had been amputated below the knee and was still swollen and bleeding. After thanking his officers for their loyalty and courage, he said farewell to his ground personnel, who were leaving in trucks and other vehicles. Later that morning, the remaining airworthy aircraft from II Gruppe, SG.2—three Junkers Ju-87 Stukas and four Focke Wulf Fw-190s—prepared to depart from their air base at Kummer am See, in Czechoslovakia. Rudel took off in his Ju-87G-2 “Cannon Bird,” equipped with a 37mm cannon under each wing, which had helped him destroy more than 500 Soviet tanks. Rudel radioed the U.S. XIX Tactical Air Command of his intentions, and was directed to R-6 Kitzingen airfield, occupied by the Ninth Air Force’s 405th Fighter Group, under the command of Colonel J. Garrett Jackson. The XIX TAC contacted the anti-aircraft units at Kitzingen to let them know a group of Luftwaffe aircraft was inbound and the pilots wanted to surrender. Since there was a victory review in progress, however, the 405th Group headquarters did not receive the message. At the time all 2,500 men of the 405th were lined up in front of the hangars, in dress uniform, for a victory flyover. My grandfather Lt. Col. Edgar J. Loftus, the 405th’s executive officer, had ordered the review, complete with band, parade and fly-by. He was the highest-ranking officer on the field when Rudel’s planes approached. Two of the 405th’s squadron com-

Top: Rudel exits his Ju-87G-2, surrounded by U.S. airmen. Above: 405th executive officer Lt. Col. Edgar Loftus (far right) greets Luftwaffe Captain Kurt Lau and a sergeant.

manders and group commander Jackson were in the air with their P-47D Thunderbolts for the flyover. Just as the men fell into position, Loftus received word that German fighters were heading to the field. With no more than two or three minutes until they arrived, his options were limited. The group’s 75 airplanes were unarmed and 10 to 15 miles away to the southwest, forming up for the fly-by. There was not enough time to break up the ranks and allow the men to seek cover before the Germans arrived overhead. Loftus decided to continue with the ceremony, hoping the Lufwaffe pilots did not intend to strafe the Americans in a final defiant gesture. When some nervous men started to break ranks, Loftus ordered them to stand at ease and not leave the formation. As the seven German planes flew in, they were so low to the ground that the Americans could see the pilots’ faces and insignia. Rudel ordered his men to crash-land their airplanes so the enemy

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

39

wouldn’t be able to use them. After circling the field, the Germans dropped flares to signal that they were landing. Rudel throttled back and circled the field again, then slipped into the landing pattern. Loftus recalled: “The first plane, a Stuka Ju-87, touched down in a three-point landing. I watched it roll down the strip slowly. Only slightly and still under power did the plane continue. The pilot made no effort to brake, causing the Stuka to run off the runway’s edge. As its wheels dug into the soft sod and its propeller beat itself into a crescent shape, the plane dug into the ground and nosed over into the grass.” One by one the six remaining German aircraft followed suit. Two of the Fw-190s and two Stukas successfully ground-looped or collapsed their landing gear. Loftus and 510th Fighter Squadron commander Lt. Col. Ralph Jenkins approached the German airplanes. “I was amazed to see two Luftwaffe personnel leave each of the single seated Fw-190 fighter planes,” Jenkins remembered. “Some were airplane mechanics

and a woman. The Stukas, as well, had German personnel stuffed into the radio and cargo compartments. A total of 21 left the seven German planes.” As Loftus walked up to the first Stuka, he saw one of his men pointing his pistol at the cockpit. When the Luftwaffe pilot opened his canopy, the pistol-wielding American tried to take a medal from his neck, but the German pushed him back and closed the canopy. After Loftus told the soldier to move off, the pilot hopped out onto the wing and demanded to see the commanding officer. “When I approached the German pilot,” Loftus recounted, “he identified himself in English as Oberst Hans-Ulrich Rudel.” The Luftwaffe colonel announced that he was there because he had been ordered from the Eastern Front. Rudel said his instructions were to fly to an American base, land and surrender. He had no choice but to comply, he said, although he refused to surrender. He explained defiantly that he had crashed his plane so that it would be of no use to the enemy. If the Americans wanted to take them prisoner, that was their affair. But his six officers and NCO pilots would not surrender. Then, with a gesture toward the 2,500 men still standing in formation, Rudel thanked Loftus for his courtesy. He was pleased that the review had been ordered. In other circumstances, such a conceit would have provoked laughter, but Loftus had to take Rudel for what he was, the ultimate German pilot and a loyal Nazi Party member. When the XO noticed Rudel’s bloody right stump and artificial leg, on which he limped with obvious pain, he offered him his jeep and escort to the aid station to have it rewrapped. Before that, though, the German colonel insisted on walking past the American ranks. Above left: II/SG.2 Gruppe commander Major Karl Kennel (back to the camera) debriefs his officers. Below: The only Stuka that wasn’t damaged on landing, flown by Captain Lau.

40

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

A Luftwaffe ground crewman emerges from the cargo hold of an Fw-190. A total of 21 people flew in on the German aircraft.

Among the stowaways was a woman, whom Rudel suspected was the reason one of the 190s was not ground-looped.

“THE FEMALE, WHO EXITED ONE OF THE FW-190’S RADIO COMPARTMENTS, WAS FLYING WITH HER BOYFRIEND [ONE OF RUDEL’S MASTER SERGEANTS].” THE STOWAWAY HAD BEEN KEPT SECRET FROM THE SENIOR RANKING OFFICERS. As Rudel proceeded to the aid station, the 405th’s P-47s landed remaining Luftwaffe officers and enlisted personnel had their final after their fly-by, and Loftus introduced Rudel to Colonel Jackson, flight debriefing, conducted by the II/SG.2 Gruppe commander his commanding officer. Jackson then introduced Rudel to 509th Major Karl Kennel. An Fw-190 pilot with 34 victories, Kennel had Fighter Squadron commander Major Chester Van Etten, who had flown top cover for Rudel. He was one of the two Fw-190 pilots led the American flyover. As Van Etten escorted Rudel to meet his who had ground-looped their fighters. Following the flight debriefing, the other four German officers operations officer, the German commented, “Best-looking formawere escorted to Jenkins’ office. “The German enlisted ground tion I have ever seen.” crews, mechanics and the female were led off Van Etten recalled: “My operations officer, by one of the 405th security detachments as Captain Oscar Theis, who could speak German, prisoners of war,” Jenkins remembered. “The spoke to Oberst Rudel. I witnessed them getting female, who exited one of the Fw-190’s radio along quite well. Captain Theis asked Oberst compartments, was flying with her boyfriend Rudel if he would show them the controls of [one of Rudel’s master sergeants].” The stowa Fw-190 so they could take the aircraft for a away had been kept secret from the senior ride.” Although Rudel arrived at Kitzingen in ranking officers. Rudel was displeased with that a Stuka, he had started to fly combat missions because he believed she was the reason the serin Fw-190s in the fall of 1944, and an NCO geant had not ground-looped his 190. had piloted his Focke Wulf to the American The four German officers waited patiently airfield. “Oberst Rudel and Captain Theis went in Jenkins’ office for Rudel to arrive from the over Rudel’s Fw-190 cockpit controls,” conaid station. When the colonel walked in with tinued Van Etten, “and Rudel showed them Niermann at his side, Jenkins recalled: “The how to unlock the tail rudder.” Then the major four other German officers stood up and saluted escorted Rudel to the group’s flight surgeon, him, including the clicking of boots. When Captain Bob Schlecter, who treated the colonel’s Captain Ernst-August Niermann Oberst Rudel sat down, the other five German injured leg. gave this photo of himself and While “Doc” Schlecter worked on the Ger- Rudel to Major Chester Van Etten. officers sat down.” Jenkins and the Germans waited for group commander Jackson and the man officer, Rudel’s Stuka rear gunner, Captain Ernst-August Niermann, looked on. Niermann had flown on all of remaining senior-ranking 405th officers to arrive. Accompanying Rudel’s final Stuka sorties, and would not leave his commander’s Jackson were 511th Squadron commander Lt. Col. Jack C. Berger, side after the surrender. When Van Etten asked the captain if he deputy group commander Lt. Col. Fred B. Kinne, group operations had any photos of Rudel that he could have, Niermann pulled out officer Major Dean E. Hess and group XO Loftus. Jenkins sent for an interpreter, but it turned out he was not a picture of himself and Rudel taken shortly before the war ended. Meanwhile, in the midst of their mostly wrecked aircraft, the needed. When the 405th commander asked the Germans about fly-

ABOVE: COURTESY OF COLONEL CHESTER VAN ETTEN (RET.)

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

41

Above: The Luftwaffe officers during interrogation in 510th Fighter Squadron commander Lt. Col. Ralph Jenkins’ office. Left: Stuka pilot 1st Lt. Hans Schwirblatt leaves his aircraft.

ing tactics and experiences, Rudel and the other officers answered in perfect English. Rudel said he was the most highly decorated German soldier, having been awarded by Adolf Hitler the Knight’s Cross with Golden Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds for outstanding bravery. He had destroyed the battleship Marat and several other Soviet naval vessels, as well more than 70 landing craft. He was also credited with destroying 519 Soviet tanks. He said he had flown more than 2,500 combat missions. He claimed that if the Russians had captured him, they would have killed him. Rudel then took his Knight’s Cross off and passed it around for the 405th officers to examine. The rest of the Germans then introduced themselves. Group commander Major Kennel sat to Rudel’s left, and to his right was 1st Lt. Hans Schwirblatt, a Stuka pilot with 900 combat missions and the Knight’s Cross. Schwirblatt, an SG.2 squadron commander, had lost a leg and most of his left hand from enemy action in November 1944. To his right sat 1st Lt. Karl Biermann, another squadron commander. Judging by scars on his head, he had also suffered 42

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

a serious injury. On the far right of Rudel was Captain Kurt Lau, an experienced Stuka pilot who also wore the Knight’s Cross. Jenkins and the other Americans wanted to know why the Germans hadn’t received air support for their ground troops in Western Europe. The 405th pilots had encountered very few Luftwaffe fighters while bombing and strafing retreating German troops. Rudel answered that German cities and armament plants had been destroyed, and resources such as petrol, planes and ammunition were limited. The fighters that were available had mainly been used to defend Germany from Allied bombers. Jenkins then said to the German fliers: “We also observed a reduction in skill and the desire to engage with us, and that the Luftwaffe pilots toward the end would not fight, and when they saw us, they would head east. When we pursued them, they would either bail out or crash land even before the first shots were fired. We thought that they didn’t fight because they knew that the war was over, even if their generals thought not.” This upset some of Rudel’s squadron commanders, and Kennel stood up to challenge the 405th commander to a unarmed dogfight to prove his mettle. Jackson wisely declined. Rudel told the Americans that pilot training had been limited because of the lack of planes and fuel as well as the constant destruction of airfields from bombing and strafing attacks. He also reiterated that he and his officers were not ready to surrender. At this point Rudel was informed that he was on a list of German personnel who were to be turned over to the Ninth Air Force for further interrogation and then to the British high command.

After the interrogation, which lasted about two hours, Rudel and his officers were taken to the mess hall for a buffet arranged by Colonel Jackson. The mood among the former enemies was at first convivial. Rudel told Van Etten that the U.S. and Germany should never have been fighting each other but rather should have joined forces to fight the Soviets, who were the real enemy. Then Major Harry G. Sanders, a 510th Squadron pilot who had just arrived at the base from the Stalag 11A POW camp, walked into the mess in a bad mood. Sanders, who had been shot down by German flak and wounded on April 14, had heard about Rudel’s surrender, and noted the hospitality being extended to the German captives. Loftus and the other officers were shocked to see Sanders pull out a cocked .45-caliber pistol and declare, “I’ll kill the first German who touches the food.” Loftus quickly whispered to Van Etten, who was two seats away from Rudel, “Van, you know all about guns, go up and get Harry’s gun.” Van Etten stood up and approached Sanders, standing between him and Rudel, and said: “Harry, if you pull the trigger, you’re going to have to kill me. If you do this, it will be bad for the U.S. He is a famous and highly decorated pilot who was just doing his duty. You will regret this for the rest of your life.” With those words Sanders turned over his pistol to Van Etten, but then he gained some satisfaction by picking up a tray of food and throwing it out the window. Sanders told Rudel that he was not given food or water in the POW camp, and that the wounds he sustained from slamming into a tree during his crash landing had not been treated. Rudel told the major he could not believe his people would mistreat him like that. After Sanders left, the German officers received their food in silence. As Rudel and his officers prepared to leave with a 405th security detachment, Loftus saw him pull out a bottle of 20-year-old scotch and pour a round for all his comrades. He made a toast to his men for surviving the war. This caused the Americans some consternation, as there was no scotch to be had in the group and the

Germans didn’t offer to share. After that Rudel was led off, never to be seen again by the men of the 405th. On May 10, 1945, Van Etten and Theis put Rudel’s primer on the Fw-190 to the test. Theis took off in Rudel’s Fw-190A-8, and Van Etten met him at 15,000 feet in his P-47D Look No Hands. The two men then engaged in a mock dogfight, to see which fighter was better. After three or four turns, Theis was easily able to get behind Van Etten’s Thunderbolt, proving that the Fw-190, when flown by an experienced pilot, could outmaneuver the heavier “Jug.” This confirmed that Jackson’s decision not to accept Major Kennel’s challenge to a mock dogfight was a wise choice, as it would likely have ended in embarrassment for the American commander. The men of the 405th Fighter Group, including my grandfather, would never forget their encounter with Hans-Ulrich Rudel. For them it was an exciting climax to their World War II service.  Michael Loftus Langdon would like to thank retired Colonels Ralph Jenkins, Harry Sanders, Dean Hess, Chester Van Etten, Captain Howard “Mike” Spencer and John B. Henkels for their help with this article. Further reading: Stuka Pilot, by Hans-Ulrich Rudel; and Thunder Monsters Over Europe: A History of the 405th Fighter Group in World War II, by Reginald G. Nolte.

Above right: Major Van Etten, the 509th Fighter Squadron commander, with his P-47D. Below: Rudel’s Fw-190A-8 was flown to Kitzingen by one of his NCOs.

TOP: COURTESY OF COLONEL CHESTER VAN ETTEN (RET.)

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

43

‘DAUGHTER SKIES’ Jean Batten put New Zealand on the map during aviation’s Golden Age, then faded into obscurity BY MICHAEL D. HULL

Jean Batten waves to the crowd (inset) in October 1937, after landing at Lympne aerodrome (above) in her Percival D.3 Gull following a record-breaking flight from Australia to England. Opposite: Batten smiles from the Gull’s cockpit.

FOR HER 26TH BIRTHDAY ON SEPTEMBER 15, 1935, Jean Batten treated herself to a brand-new Percival D.3 Gull Six. The low-wing Gull had a 200-hp Gipsy 6-cylinder engine and auxiliary fuel tanks, giving it a cruising speed of 150 mph and a range of 2,000 miles. It cost Batten £1,750, “every penny I owned,” she said. Just two months later Batten was in the Senegalese town of Thies, preparing for an ambitious solo flight across the South Atlantic to Natal, Brazil. The flier, who had already set several long-distance records, made meticulous preparations for her newest venture. A stylish woman who wanted to look her best at VIP events, she was all business when it came to aircraft maintenance. At Thies she insisted on working on the Gull’s engine herself and on supervising the fueling process. Despite muttering from the French air force mechanics looking on, she made sure the fuel was carefully filtered through a chamois cloth to remove impurities. Next Batten sorted out her flying kit, discarding heavy items such as spare engine parts, a tool box, a flare pistol and water drums. But as a bemused French commandant looked on, the flier carefully refolded two evening dresses and stowed them away in her locker. Later asked why she had made such a feminine choice, Jean’s answer was matter-of-fact. The dresses weighed almost nothing, she pointed out. If her flight was successful, she would need them. And if she ended up in the Atlantic, the heavy equipment would be of no use. As it turned out, the New Zealander did need her evening wear. But several times during her journey through heavy weather she wished she had been able to afford a radio to help with navigation.

OPPOSITE: IMAGNO/GETTY IMAGES; AP PHOTO (INSET); ABOVE: NATIONAL ARCHIVES

Ultimately, though, her calculations enabled her to reach South America without any trouble. With an overwater flight lasting 13 hours and 15 minutes, Batten had beat Australian Jim Mollison’s time across the South Atlantic by more than four hours. Her total elapsed time from England to Brazil—a 5,000-mile trip—was 61 hours and 15 minutes, a world record, and almost a day less than Mollison’s England-Brazil record. After landing near Natal, Batten exulted, “I experienced once again the greatest and most lasting of joys—the joy of achievement.” That same exhilaration had drawn Batten to the skies ever since her first flight, with pioneering Australian aviator Sir Charles Kingsford-Smith in his Fokker F.VII/3m Southern Cross. Sir Charles, who became the first to fly across the Pacific from America, gave Batten two pieces of advice—both of which she would ignore: “Don’t attempt to break men’s records, and don’t fly at night.” Jane Gardner Batten, who preferred to be called Jean, was born in Rotorua, on New Zealand’s North Island, the daughter of Captain Frederick H. Batten, a dentist, and the former Ellen “Nellie” Blackmore. Just before Jean’s birth, Louis Blériot had become the first man to fly across the English Channel. Ellen clipped a newspaper article about Blériot’s feat and pinned it to the wall next to her baby’s cot. Whether it made a difference in her daughter’s ambitions no one can say. But Ellen clearly succeeded in instilling in Jean the idea, radical at the time, that she must be prepared to compete with men. The family moved from Rotorua to Auckland when Jean was 4. Early on she was passionate about books and music, and her father

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

45

Above: In May 1934, Batten savors her triumph after completing her frequently delayed solo flight to Australia. Left: Before her return trip, the Kiwi pilot had her recordbreaking flying time and the names of all 35 refueling stops made during her journey recorded on her Gypsy Moth’s fuselage. Below: Jean poses with the Moth at Calcutta, India, in one of her more fashionable moments during the 1934 flight.

encouraged her to become a concert pianist. She attended the Ladies College in Remuera, studying music in Auckland. Around that same time, her parents separated. Batten read about Australian Bert Hinkler’s groundbreaking solo flight from England to Australia in February 1928, and was also inspired by the journey from San Francisco to Brisbane made three months later by Kingsford-Smith, Australian Charles Ulm and Americans James Warner and Harry Lyon. “I was deeply interested in these two flights,” Jean wrote, “and when later Charles Kingsford-Smith flew over the Tasman Sea to New Zealand, my enthusiasm for aviation increased and I decided to become a pilot.” After her flight with Kingsford-Smith during a visit to Australia in 1929, she recalled, “Cruising high above the Blue Mountains, I had felt completely at home in the air and decided that here indeed was my element.” Her father was apprehensive, telling her of the many crackups he had witnessed during World War I and warning that flying lessons were expensive. But her mother became her most enthusiastic supporter. Jean sold her piano to raise funds for her new venture, and Ellen agreed to accompany her to England—ostensibly to continue music studies. Traveling to London in 1930, mother and daughter initially stayed with Jean’s brother John. Jean discovered the London Aero Club, based at the nearby Stag Lane airfield, the home field of celebrated British flier Amy Johnson. The young New Zealander applied herself to the grubby business of learning about aircraft engines, airframes and aeronautics. It didn’t come easy, as she was “far from being a natural pilot” at the start, according to a colleague. Once while soloing in one of the Aero Club’s de Havilland Gipsy Moths, Batten overshot the field, hit a wire fence and overturned. Though she emerged unhurt, her confidence was shaken. But she wasn’t a quitter. Inspired by Johnson’s example, she managed to earn her pilot’s “A” license in 1930.

Batten then returned home, where she struggled to obtain financial backing for a flight from England to Australia. Initially no one offered any help, but at length her brother John paid her passage back to England. Then one of the many young men interested in her, Royal New Zealand Air Force pilot Fred Truman, gave her £500, his bonus after five years in the military. If Truman hoped to foster a romantic relationship with the attractive aviatrix, he was sadly mistaken. As author Ian Mackersey pointedly noted in his 1990 biography Jean Batten: The Garbo of the Skies, Batten “totally ignored him in her two published books and her unpublished memoirs....Yet without doubt she owed her subsequent success more directly to Fred Truman than to any other person.” Jean went back to work at Stag Lane to learn more about aircraft maintenance, as well as navigation and meteorology. She piled up flying hours, and in December 1932 gained her “B” commercial license—just a few days before Amy Johnson set a Cape Town–

“CRUISING HIGH ABOVE THE BLUE MOUNTAINS, I HAD FELT COMPLETELY AT 46

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: GETTY IMAGES; NATIONAL ARCHIVES; ©ADOC-PHOTOS/CORBIS

In Rotorua Batten wears a feather cloak while rubbing noses in traditional Maori fashion with a tribal official after being christened “Daughter of the Skies.”

to–London solo record. She also met Victor Dorée, the son of a prosperous English linen merchant, who agreed to help underwrite her solo flight to Australia. In her book My Life, Batten explained, “I was to have a half-share in a second-hand Moth and, in return, signed an agreement to give the other pilot fifty per cent of any proceeds from that flight and to tour Australia and New Zealand for twelve months giving passenger flights.” In April 1933, wearing a New Zealand flag around her neck, Batten clambered into the cramped cockpit of a Gipsy Moth 60 at Kent’s Lympne airfield and took off. Christened Jason, her plane had originally been owned by the Prince of Wales. Bad luck lay ahead. Batten was forced down by a sandstorm in Baluchistan, India (now Pakistan), and damaged her propeller during a blind landing. After obtaining a replacement prop, she set out once again, but after flying just 70 miles, the Moth’s engine gave out. “A connecting rod broke and went bang through the side of the crankcase,” Batten reported. She made a dead-stick landing on a roadway outside Karachi, plowing into a stone marker. The damage done spelled a premature end for that attempt. A year later Batten again attempted to fly to Australia, but misfortune still dogged her. Following a more southerly route than Johnson had taken, the New Zealander headed southward across France, then turned from Marseille toward Rome. Headwinds slowed her down, and she ran out of fuel, as she later recalled, “at midnight in teeming rain and pitch darkness over the Italian capital.” She managed to steer her Moth to a landing on a small field on Rome’s outskirts, emerging with minor injuries. But the Moth was seriously damaged. Returning to London to plot yet another attempt, she learned that her abortive flights had made news, but not in a good way. The Fleet Street dailies were poking fun at her: “Try Again, Jean,” read one headline.

She needed no prodding. Less than a month later Batten readied her patched-up Moth for a third solo attempt to Australia. Because her Rome mishap had delayed her, she took off at a time—midMay—when monsoons usually threatened Southeast Asia. Yet despite a serious oil leak that grounded her aircraft for repairs in Calcutta, much of Batten’s third attempt turned out to be a smooth sightseeing tour. However, one leg of her journey—from Rangoon to Victoria Point, on Burma’s southern tip—turned into a nightmare. After Batten took off into an overcast sky in sultry temperatures, she ran into severe squalls, and five hours out of Rangoon she found herself surrounded by a huge storm. There was no way around it, and her fuel supply was too low for her to turn back. “The rain thundered down on to the wings of my airplane like millions of tiny pellets,” she reported, “and visibility was so bad that the wingtips were not visible and the coastline was completely blotted out.” Batten doggedly steered through the storm as her engine sputtered along, the open cockpit nearly flooded. Suddenly, through a freakish break in the storm, she caught a glimpse of the jungle beneath her. She dived under a curtain of black clouds and flew back and forth for 35 anxious minutes, searching for a place to put down. Providentially, Batten spotted a clearing that proved to be the landing field at Victoria Point. The worst part of her journey was over. On May 23, 1934—less than 15 days after leaving England—she touched down triumphantly on the airfield at Darwin, Australia, having beaten Amy Johnson’s time by more than four days. The Australians welcomed Batten as enthusiastically as they had greeted Johnson. The Kiwi pilot soon paid a visit to her homeland, crossing the Tasman Sea by ship because her Moth lacked the range to traverse its 1,200-mile-wide expanse. The usually reticent New Zealanders cheered her wherever she went. Crowds packed the streets of Auckland, resulting in huge traffic jams. The government gave her $3,000, and she was the guest of honor at a celebration staged by the Maoris. Presented with a tribal chief’s feather cloak, she was christened Hine-o-te-Rangi (Daughter of the Skies). For six weeks, while her Moth was being overhauled, New Zealand’s favorite daughter toured her homeland, giving speeches and reveling in all the adulation. But for her mother, back in England, the constant harassment by the press during Jean’s ordeal had been sheer torture, and she would not soon recover. As the Daily Express reported, the “iron-nerved, silver-haired Mrs. Batten crumpled up. She went flying off to the country away from the glamour of her daughter’s achievement.” When Batten took off on her return flight, she told the Darwin station commander: “If I go down in the sea, no one must fly out to look for me. I have no wish to imperil the lives of others.” Over the Timor Sea, about 250 miles out of Darwin, the Moth’s engine coughed, faltered and then subsided into silence. As her biplane began a slow, inexorable glide down toward the waves, Batten prayed the problem was just a temporary fuel line blockage. She gave the engine full throttle, but there was no response. She watched helplessly as the altimeter needle spun from 6,000

HOME IN THE AIR AND DECIDED THAT HERE INDEED WAS MY ELEMENT.” NATIONAL LIBRARY OF NEW ZEALAND

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

47

Left: Batten shelters from the sun beneath her Gull’s wing after her nonstop Atlantic flight from West Africa to Brazil, which was cut a bit short in November 1935. Above: Locals surround the Gull following Batten’s forced landing on Araruama beach, not far from Rio de Janeiro. Below: The aviatrix takes off on yet another flying adventure. Below left: Greeting reporters in England.

feet down to 3,000 feet. At last it seemed there was only one thing to do—ditch. She unfastened her shoes and flying suit, and reached for her small emergency hatchet. If she managed to set the plane down on an even keel, she reasoned, she might be able to hack off a wing and float on it. Miraculously, just as the Moth was about to hit the water, its engine burst to life again. Batten climbed back up to 6,000 feet, holding that altitude until she spotted Kupang, on Timor, then circled down to land. The rest of the trip was nerve-wracking, with the Moth’s engine sputtering, stopping and restarting several more times before she reached Croydon. Batten had completed the return journey from Darwin in 17 days and 15 hours—the first woman to do so. She once again relished the limelight, but was surprised to find that the London dailies made as much of her flying attire as her feat: She was wearing trousers. Batten soon started planning new record-breaking flights. In 1935 she made her flight from West Africa to Brazil, becoming the first woman to fly solo across the South Atlantic. She continued building her reputation as a pathfinder in her Percival Gull. By this

time she was the most celebrated New Zealander of the decade, receiving trophies from British, American, French, Swedish, Danish, Belgian and Brazilian aeronautical societies. In 1936 she was made a Commander of the British Empire, and she won the Harmon Trophy three times, sharing the first with Amelia Earhart. She was also awarded Brazil’s Order of the Southern Cross, and made a chevalier of the French Legion of Honor. In 1936 Batten vowed to fulfill “the ultimate of my ambition” and prove the practicability of an England–to–New Zealand air route. That October she climbed into her Gull and took off from Lympne, bound for Auckland. She arrived there 11 days and 45 minutes later, establishing a solo record of five days, 21 hours, from England to Australia, and a record Tasman Sea solo crossing of nine hours and 15 minutes. Her overall time included a weather delay of 2½ days in Sydney, where she was cheered by thousands. For the first time, England had been linked directly with New Zealand. On her return flight in October 1937, she established a solo record from Australia of five days, 19 hours and 15 minutes. Batten’s many long-distance flights were characterized by bril-

IT SEEMED THERE WAS ONLY ONE THING TO DO—DITCH. MIRACULOUSLY, JUST AS 48

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: AP PHOTO; NATIONAL ARCHIVES; NATIONAL ARCHIVES; NATIONAL ARCHIVES

liant navigation precision, achieved by use of only a map, watch and lifeless body in her apartment. She had died at age 73 from a pulsimple magnetic compass. But while her feats ranked with those of monary abscess—the result of an untreated dog bite. When an attempt to locate relatives or friends failed, Batten was Johnson and Earhart, she has remained the least well known of the three. That was because of the wall that Batten and her fiercely buried in the Palma Cemetery in January 1983. Although she left protective mother built around themselves in the aftermath of her an estate amounting to about £100,000, her remains were laid in an sudden fame. The media dubbed Jean the “Greta Garbo of the air” unmarked paupers’ grave together with those of 150 others. It would take detective work by Batten’s surviving family and her because—like the famously reclusive actress—she was a beautiful woman who was intensely private. She was frequently compared biographer to find out just what had happened. Not until 1987 did Jean’s nephew, Rick Batten, receive his aunt’s unfavorably with the popular Johnson. death certificate, with no explanation of the Batten was also criticized for commercialcircumstances. Around that same time, howizing her own image, but—like Earhart—she ever, Jean’s papers in Majorca were unearthed, found it necessary to capitalize on her fame to and Ian Mackersey notified Television New fund her record attempts, endorsing a variety Zealand of Batten’s death five years earlier. of products, including Castrol oil. She also Headlines in one newspaper heralded “The embarked on lecture tours, collected fees from Final Loneliness of the Long-Distance Aviator.” the Gaumont film company and the London Batten’s modified Gull was eventually Daily Express, contributed narration to an RAF acquired by Britain’s Shuttleworth Collection, recruiting film and became involved in writwhich sold it to the Auckland Airport in the ing and broadcasting about aviation. The two 1990s. To mark the 60th anniversary of Jean’s books she wrote about her own career, My flight from England to New Zealand, Cherie Life (1938) and Alone in the Sky (1979), would Marshall flew the Gull over Auckland on receive generally poor reviews. November 4, 1996. When its engine started As war clouds loomed in 1938, Batten began running rough, Marshall put out a mayday a tour of England and Europe, hobnobbing call, but she managed to land safely. Following with VIPs. She returned to Britain the folThanks to glamour shots such as this one, circa 1935, Batten was that flight, the Gull was suspended inside the lowing year, and when World War II broke out promptly applied to join Captain Pauline dubbed the “Greta Garbo of the air.” airport’s Jean Batten International Terminal, where it can still be seen today. Gower’s Air Transport Auxiliary, a volunteer Mackersey’s 1990 book drew on memoirs found after Batten’s organization of women ferry pilots. Strangely, Batten was rejected, perhaps because of her double vision—the result of an early death and hundreds of interviews. As he summed it up, his biography paints a portrait of “a fascinating woman who combined crash—or maybe because she was not seen as a team player. Instead she became a driver for the Anglo-French Ambulance bravery and ruthlessness with the stunning and seductive beauty Corps, serving in France during the “Phony War” of 1939-40. She she used so effectively to fulfill her great ambitions.” Today much spent the rest of WWII on a war bond tour of Britain. Her Percival of the world has forgotten the audacious Kiwi pilot who pitted herGull was commissioned for active service, though Batten herself self against the most famous fliers of her day. But New Zealand still remembers its Daughter of the Skies.  never again entered the cockpit. After WWII ended, the New Zealander fashioned a self-contained existence for herself with her mother—in Jamaica, on an Longtime contributor Michael D. Hull writes from Enfield, Conn. extended tour of Europe and also at Tenerife, in the Canary Islands. Additional reading: Jean Batten: The Garbo of the Skies, by Ian MackDuring the 1970s, not long after Ellen’s death, Jean threw herself ersey; and My Life, by Jean Batten. into a brief round of public appearances commemorating the heady era of long-distance flying. She visited New Zealand in 1977, when she was the guest of honor at the dedication of the Aviation Pioneers Pavilion at Auckland’s Museum of Transport and Technology. Batten’s solo England–to–New Zealand record stood for 44 years. When Judith Chisholm of Britain landed her Cessna Turbo Centurion at Auckland in 1980, after flying for three days and 11 hours, among those who greeted her was Batten, who had made her own epochal flight 16 years before Chisholm was born. The reclusive celebrity rented a small apartment in the Spanish port of Palma de Majorca in 1982, but her life there ended all too Today the storied Gull is on permanent display at Aukland soon. On November 22, a cleaning woman discovered Batten’s Airport, suspended in the Jean Batten International Terminal.

THE MOTH WAS ABOUT TO HIT THE WATER, ITS ENGINE BURST TO LIFE AGAIN. TOP: ©MARY EVANS/THE IMAGE WORKS; BOTTOM: ©DOUGLAS FISHER/ALAMY

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

49

The Breguet 14 wasn’t World War I’s fastest, most maneuverable or best-looking biplane, but it soldiered on long after more iconic aircraft had disappeared BY ROBERT GUTTMAN To the untrained eye, World War I biplanes—essentially collections of wood, canvas and wires—appear hopelessly fragile. But looks can be deceiving, especially in the case of the Breguet 14. Though Louis Breguet’s innovative and versatile design may not have been a beauty, it was among the finest, and certainly one of the most rugged, combat aircraft of the war. “I would agree with that from personal experience,” testified Djibraïl Nazare-Aga, a Persian volunteer who served as a bomber pilot in French Escadrilles Br.66 and Br.108 from 1917 to 1918. “After my return from one mission, my mechanic showed me that three of the four longerons of my fuselage had been shot apart by an attacking Fokker D.VII—I had come back with only one holding the plane together. Early in October [1918], my left undercarriage leg was blown away, but I managed to make a pancake landing south of Châlons-sur-Marne. Such attrition says a lot about the intensity of the fighting, but it also shows how strong the Breguet was.” Born in Paris on January 2, 1880, Louis Charles Breguet was the 50

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

scion of a family famous since 1775 for manufacturing watches. Louis, however, was more interested in aeronautics than timepieces. He began developing his own aircraft as early as 1905, experimented with a helicopter design in 1907 and founded his own manufacturing company in 1909. Breguet became a proponent of using metal in the construction of aircraft, and his early creations proved to be both sturdy and useful. He sold several to the French army, and in September 1914 flew a notable reconnaissance mission in one of his own airplanes, locating the German First Army, which was then advancing toward Paris, and setting the stage for the momentous Battle of the Marne. When the French army sought aircraft suitable for bombing missions, Breguet agreed to design and build one. The authorities requested a pusher, so that’s what Breguet delivered, even though he believed a tractor design would have been far superior. In spite of his own dissatisfaction with his pusher, many were manufactured by Breguet, as well as by other companies under license. In addition to bomber and reconnaissance versions, escort fighters

NATIONAL ARCHIVES

French ground crewmen manhandle a 14A2 off the airfield at Trécon following a reconnaissance mission on May 31, 1918.

A Breguet 14 of the U.S. 96th Aero Squadron passes over Vigneulles, France, during a bombing run in October 1918.

and night fighters were also developed from his design. In the summer of 1916, Breguet designed a new single-engine, two-seat tractor airplane that he considered an improvement over the pusher. Again the French military tried to interfere, requesting that he install a 200-hp Hispano-Suiza V-8. But Breguet stood firm this time, holding out for the 220-hp Renault V-12, which he believed offered greater potential for development. He was subsequently proved correct, as the production version of the Renault engine that was eventually installed produced 310 hp, and by war’s end improved versions were generating more than 400 hp. Designated the Breguet 14, the new design was a two-bay biplane with a slight back-stagger. Its large rectangular nose radiator contributed to the airplane’s angular appearance. Unprepossessing though it looked, it performed well and turned out to be both sturdy and capable of performing a variety of missions. Beneath its conventional fabric skin the Breguet 14 was constructed primarily of oxy-welded steel tubes and duralumin—an innovative design feature for the “stick-and-wire” era. In fact, it

SERVICE HISTORIQUE DE DEFENSE—AIR, B80 979

was among the first production airplanes to make extensive use of duralumin in its structure. The result was a strong airframe that proved to be far more durable than wooden structures, which tended to deteriorate after extended exposure to the elements. The Breguet 14 was a relatively large two-seater, with a span of 47 feet and a length of 29 feet. Its steel tube and duralumin airframe, however, made it comparatively light at approximately 2,300 pounds, depending upon the version and the equipment carried. Performance also varied for the same reason, with maximum speed generally ranging between 110 and 120 mph. The pilot sat just behind the upper wing, where he had a good view in most directions. The observer/bombardier/gunner was seated close behind him, facilitating communications. Armament consisted of a single forward-firing synchronized Vickers machine gun and one or two Lewis guns on a flexible Etévé or Scarff ring mounting in the observer’s pit. Some aircraft mounted an additional flexible Lewis gun for the observer to fire beneath the fuselage, to defend against attacks from below. On November 21, 1916, Breguet himself piloted the prototype on its first flight. After an inordinate length of time spent overcoming the French air service’s skepticism over his use of duralumin, the Breguet 14A2, optimized for reconnaissance and observation, was approved for production on March 6, 1917. One month later Breguet introduced a bomber prototype, the 14B2, which differed from the A2 in several respects. Besides wingmounted racks accommodating up to 660 pounds of bombs, the B2 had a large square window on each side of the rear cockpit to provide light for the bombardier to operate the bombsight. Fullspan flaps on the lower wings were controlled by bungee cords, which lowered them automatically when the airspeed dropped below 70 mph and raised them as the airplane exceeded that speed, a very advanced feature for 1917. Once the French air service finally accepted the new Breguet, it seemingly couldn’t get enough of them. In addition to the parent company, at least four other firms were soon subcontracted to build the aircraft under license. According to French sources, wartime Breguet 14 production totaled 3,916 A2 reconnaissance

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

51

Piloted by Major Harry Brown, this Breguet 14B2 flew the 96th Aero's first bombing mission, and became the first to receive the 96th's Red Devil insignia.

Although both U.S. squadrons struggled with worn aircraft powered by tired engines, their crews considered the Breguets superior to the Liberty DH-4s that were being issued to most of the newer squadrons. versions and 1,586 B2 bombers. While the preferred engine remained the Renault, visually distinguishable by its single vertical exhaust stack jutting above the cowling, supplies of that power plant could not keep up with demand. As a result other engines were installed, notably a 285-hp 6-cylinder inline Fiat. A few planes were also fitted with the 400-hp American Liberty V-12. By the end of the war, at least 71 French squadrons were flying the Breguet 14 on the Western Front, while others were deployed to Italy, Salonika and the Middle East. Besides being fast and sufficiently well armed to defend itself, the Breguet could absorb a great deal of punishment. Versatility was another major attribute. In addition to the observation and bombing aircraft, Breguet developed other more specialized variants. The 14B1, a single-seat long-range bomber version, replaced the observer position with an extra fuel tank. Although a number of this type entered service, they were never used to bomb their intended target, Berlin. The 14H (Hydroavion) floatplane was developed for the French navy. The 14S (Sanitaire), capable of carrying two stretchers, was one of the first specialized flying ambulances to enter operational service. Used on the Western Front in 1918, it later proved its worth in colonial wars in North Africa and Syria. The 14E (École) served as a two-seat trainer. About 200 examples of the Breguet 16, a specialized night-bomber development of the 14 with larger-span three-bay wings and other alterations, were built during 1918, and remained in use until 1923. Perhaps the most formidable wartime development, the Breguet 17 two-seat fighter mounted two forward-firing machine guns for the pilot and two more for the observer. Powered by an uprated 400-hp Renault, it had a top speed of 135 mph and would have been 52

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

a match for anything the Germans flew. The 17 made its maiden flight in the summer of 1918, but the war ended before it could be deployed. Approximately 100 were completed before production was canceled. At least 35 Fiat-powered Breguet 14A2s were supplied to the Belgian air service during the war, equipping two complete squadrons and partially equipping at least four others. After the armistice Belgium received 15 more Renault-powered machines, which remained in squadron service until 1923. A few were reportedly still flying as late as 1928. The other major wartime user of the Breguet 14 was the United States. Desperate for up-to-date aircraft, the U.S. Army Air Service accepted a total of 376 aircraft, of which 199 were Fiat-powered. Of that total, 229 were A2 reconnaissance planes, 47 were B2 bombers and 100 were E2 trainers. The USAS 9th and 96th Aero squadrons both relied heavily on the Breguet 14. On June 12, 1918, the 96th flew the first-ever U.S. bombing mission. The Americans, however, operated under the dual disadvantages of having no combat experience and being compelled to go to war in secondhand aircraft that the French had used as trainers. The 96th suffered an embarrassing setback on July 10. After six of its planes departed Amanty aerodrome to bomb Conflans, the unit’s commander, Major Harry Brown, failed to account for the effect of 70 mph southwesterly winds above the cloud level that blew his flight 100 miles off course, to Koblenz. Those same winds impeded their attempt to make for home until they ran out of fuel and landed in Germany, where all six planes and their crews were captured intact. The Germans soon dropped a message in Allied lines that found its way to Colonel William Mitchell, who was already seething about

IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM Q60797

the mishap. “We thank you for the fine airplanes and equipment which you have sent us,” it read, “but what shall we do with the major?” Mitchell remarked that “he was better off in Germany at that time than he would have been with us.” Once reconstituted, the 96th became the most active of the four squadrons making up the 1st Day Bombardment Group from September 1918 onward, primarily due to the reliability of its Breguets compared to the American-built Liberty DH-4s used by the 11th, 20th and 166th Aero squadrons. The 9th also broke new ground as the first American squadron to specialize in nighttime reconnaissance. Because so much of the enemy lines lay within view of Allied observation aircraft and balloons, the Germans had taken to transferring troops and supplies by night. It was the 9th’s task to find out what the enemy was up to after dark. Although both squadrons struggled with worn aircraft powered by tired engines, their crews considered the Breguets superior to the Liberty DH-4s that were being issued to most of the newer squadrons. If Louis Breguet’s reconnaissance flight of September 1914 was one of the war’s most significant, a Breguet 14A2 carried out another mission of major importance in November 1918. On the 13th, it flew the German plenipotentiary from Tergnier, France, to Spa, Belgium, bringing the armistice conditions to the German general staff. While the armistice spelled the end of production for most WWI aircraft, the Breguet 14 was among the few that remained in demand after hostilities ceased. Approximately 2,500 more were manufactured between November 11, 1918, and 1926. The sturdy biplane proved ideal for military service in the French colonies,

since its metal frame stood up to tropical climates far better than did the wooden structures of most other contemporary aircraft. The majority of the Breguets, however, were built for export, serving in no less than 24 foreign air forces during the 1920s, with some soldiering on into the early 1930s. The adaptable Breguet 14 was also converted for commercial service. In addition to using 14s as airmail transports, the Breguet and Latécoère companies modified them to carry passengers—two in the 14T and three in the 14T-bis. These operated in Europe and on routes across the Sahara Desert. Although hardly among WWI’s most glamorous airplanes, the Breguet 14’s performance, versatility and structural strength made it one of the best all-around aircraft developed during that conflict, and guaranteed its continued popularity for years afterward. The Breguet’s strutted biplane configuration, open cockpits, fixed landing gear and fabric covering made it appear typical of its era, but its sturdy metal airframe was years ahead of its time. A number of Breguet 14s still exist, including an original on display at the Musée de l’Air et l’Espace at Le Bourget. There are also several replicas, including one at the Royal Thai Air Force Museum in Bangkok. In 2000 a homebuilt flying replica was completed in France by Eugène Bellet. Registered as F-POST and flown extensively, it is painted in the civilian markings of the French Latécoère Air Line of the 1920s.  Frequent contributor Robert Guttman writes from Tappan, N.Y. He recommends for further reading: Breguet 14, by J.M. Bruce and Jean Noel; and U.S. Army Aircraft, 1908-1946, by James C. Fahey.

Top left: Roughly 2,500 more Breguet 14s were constructed after World War I ended; this Latécoère-built 14 has been converted into a mailplane. Above left: Crewmen prepare to evacuate a casualty aboard a 14S Sanitaire air ambulance, a variant that proved invaluable in the North African and Middle Eastern colonies. Right: A lineup of 14Ts, which were modified to carry two passengers.

SERVICE HISTORIQUE DE DEFENSE—AIR (CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT) B81 2742; B97 4444; B83 3082

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

53

COLD WAR AIRPOWER LABORATORY Learning on the fly, the Nineteenth Air Force laid the foundation for modern expeditionary forces BY EILEEN A. BJORKMAN

M

Moving entire U.S. Air Force units across continents and oceans requires an intricate dance involving dozens of aircraft, hundreds of people and thousands of supplies. Amateurs need not apply. Today aerial deployments to far-flung locations are considered a matter of routine, but how did the Air Force learn to do that? The USAF’s modern expeditionary roots date to 1955, when the service as a whole was entrenched in Cold War doctrine that put atomic weapons on the highest rung of American strategy. Most of the leadership prized intercontinental missiles and massive bombers armed with powerful nuclear warheads over scrappy fighters capable of carrying smaller atomic weapons and conventional bombs. But there were some, including General Otto P. Weyland, commander of the Tactical Air Command, who were concerned that atomic weapons would do nothing to deter or help extinguish “brush fires,” limited conflicts that might pop up around the globe. 54

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

F-100Ds refuel from a KB-50 tanker, in a typical exercise for the Nineteenth Air Force. General Otto P. Weyland (inset) led the Tactical Air Command.

Weyland wanted a mobile force that could deploy worldwide with a few hours’ notice. In response, in July 1955, the USAF created the Nineteenth Air Force at Foster Air Force Base, near Victoria, Texas. Commanded by Brig. Gen. Henry Viccellio, the tiny headquarters staff included 85 military and six civilian planners whose job was to develop procedures for deploying and using mobile forces in limited wars. Despite the fact that the Nineteenth owned no air units, planners experimented by combining parts of fighter, bomber, reconnaissance and communications squadrons into packages and sending them all over the world using aircraft from transport and refueling squadrons. Each package, called a Composite Air Strike Force (CASF), had the goal of delivering combat capability to a theater within a few days. And each CASF had to be able to operate unassisted for 30 days, until reinforcements could arrive.

LT. WILLIAM J. STARR VIA JOHN STARR; INSET: U.S. AIR FORCE

C-124 Globemasters, the Nineteenth’s mainstay transports, fly in formation during a training mission.

Early on, one of the biggest problems facing planners was the immaturity of fighter aircraft refueling, in particular for the Nineteenth’s frontline fighter, the North American F-100. The Super Sabre had a probe that fit into a basket-shaped receptacle called a drogue, which was attached to the tanker via a long hose. But Air Force tankers didn’t receive the drogues until the summer of 1956. Once the tankers were finally equipped for training the Sabre pilots, it was the blind leading the blind as the pilots tried to figure out the refueling process. F-100 pilots at Foster AFB, including retired Lt. Cols. Arnold Ebneter (my father) and Ted Workman, both recalled that positioning their jets to plug the probe into the basket proved much harder than had been anticipated. As Workman said: “The refueling probe had design problems—the probe was on the right wing, and it was too short, so we couldn’t see it as we tried to stab it into the basket. They fixed it later [by making the probe longer],

U.S. AIR FORCE

but early pilots had to figure out visual cues for where to place the basket so they could hit it.” Many pilots struggled to master the process. Instead of sliding the probe smoothly into the basket, they often slammed into it, resulting in cracked canopies, gouged airframes and unhappy maintenance crews. When they did manage to hook up with the tankers, some Sabre pilots inadvertently ripped baskets and hoses off tankers and flew home with them still attached. Refueling turned out to be so difficult that it terrified some fliers. Workman remembered one pilot was so nervous about an upcoming refueling mission that while taxiing to the runway he rode his brakes hard, blowing two tires. Even getting the F-100s properly lined up behind the tankers could be a challenge. On one six-hour flight in August 1956, Ebneter recalled that the five tankers they rendezvoused with over the East

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

55

Coast were flying in a trailing formation resembling a drawn-out conga line. “Somehow, an Eastern Airlines Constellation got into the string,” he said, “and there was a bit of confusion until the flight lead decided the Connie wouldn’t give him any gas.” After that, planners told the tankers to fly in a line-abreast formation that would be easier to maintain.

B

y September 1956, TAC thought the Nineteenth was ready for a practice deployment to Europe. Dubbed Mobile Baker, the operation would involve moving fighters, reconnaissance aircraft and associated equipment and personnel across the Atlantic, deploying from bases on the East Coast and in the South. The planners thought small on this exercise: The fighters hopscotched their way to Europe. Ebneter’s logbook shows that on September 16 they flew from Foster to Dover AFB, Del., and then on to Ernest Harmon Air Base, Newfoundland. Three days later they flew nonstop to Sidi Slimane, in French Morocco, a trip that took about five hours, including refueling over the Azores. From Sidi Slimane, units scattered to locations in France, Germany and Italy. Participating in Mobile Baker were F-100Cs from the 450th Fighter Day Wing at Foster; Republic F-84Fs from the 366th Fighter Bomber Wing at England AFB, La.; RF-84Fs from the 363rd Tactical Reconnaissance Wing at Shaw AFB, S.C.; and Douglas B-66s from the 17th Bomb Wing at Hurlburt Field, Fla.

Support aircraft included tankers from the 429th and 622nd Air Refueling squadrons at Langley AFB, Va., and England AFB, along with Douglas C-124 transports from the 63rd Troop Carrier Wing at Donaldson AFB, S.C. The last leg of the Atlantic crossing was grueling for the fighter pilots, who had to spend long hours in cramped cockpits wearing suffocating “poopy suits” in case they landed in freezing water after ejecting. Once they reached Europe, however, there was plenty of time for sightseeing and souvenir collecting, including the always-popular bottles of liquor. During the return trip, the fliers stashed their booty in one of several roomy gun and ammunition bays in their aircraft. Ebneter remembered that most of the Mobile Baker pilots purchased the legal one-gallon limit of duty-free liquor to bring back home. But one man bought three gallons of scotch, placing his “legal” scotch in his heated ammunition bay, then secreted the other bottles in the unheated gun bays. It apparently hadn’t occurred to him that alcohol might freeze after 2½ hours at 40,000 feet. The frozen scotch expanded and broke the bottles. Then, during his descent for landing, the liquor melted. When the Dover customs inspector reached his aircraft after landing, the would-be smuggler stared in dismay at the scotch streaming out of his gun bays. The inspector looked at the intact bottles in the ammunition bay, scowled and asked him pointedly, “Anything else to declare?” The dejected flier looked away from his contraband pooling on the tarmac and responded, “Not anymore.”

P An H-21B helicopter is offloaded in sections from a C-124 at Barter Island, Alaska, in April 1956.

ilots weren’t the only ones who had to learn the ropes during deployment; maintenance and support personnel were also crucial to the mission’s success. Marvin Atchison, an F-100 crew chief in the late 1950s, still remembers the lessons passed on to him by his predecessors. In addition to keeping a toolbox and a B4 bag packed and ready to go in his barracks, he learned from seasoned crew chiefs to stuff small parts into his pockets—unauthorized parts in toolboxes were verboten. Whenever a deployment kicked off, the first thing the crew chiefs did was attach 450-gallon drop tanks to the F-100s. Atchison said of watching the aircraft depart: “It was nerve-wracking. The planes U.S. airmen gather around a campfire at Germany’s Landsthul Air Base for a preflight briefing during Mobile Baker.

1st Lt. Arnold Ebneter, the author’s father, refuels while participating in Operation Mobile Baker.

56

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

PHOTOS: U.S. AIR FORCE

Super Sabres gas up over the North Atlantic. Refining and practicing refueling techniques was an important factor in the Nineteenth’s efforts to deploy Composite Air Strike Forces.

were so heavy I didn’t think they would get off.” Although Nineteenth Air Force planners deemed Mobile Baker a success, they wanted to do even more. The next step was to fly nonstop from the States to Europe. Since such an exercise would involve two or three aerial refuelings and eight hours of flying time, the 450th began practicing eight-hour flights from Foster around the U.S. Ebneter and Workman participated in one eight-hour practice flight in April 1957 that must have left the planners wondering whether they would ever work the kinks out of the system. As the flight of eight F-100s neared Oklahoma City on their last leg, they found a line of thunderstorms between them and Foster. Since Tinker AFB was nearby, the command post directed the pilots to land there instead. But Tinker’s long runway was closed for maintenance, leaving only a shorter 7,000-foot runway. As a result, mission commander Colonel Carlos Talbot told his crews to lighten their aircraft by using the afterburners to get rid of excess fuel. Talbot and his wingman went in first, landing with no problems. But when Ebneter landed in the third plane, his drag chute didn’t deploy. As he braked, he locked the F-100’s right wheel, sending out a shower of sparks. Even though he maneuvered as far to the right of the runway as possible, rescue crews quickly surrounded him with firetrucks, rendering that runway unusable too. Not to worry: The commercial airport in Oklahoma City, only a few miles away, had three long runways, so the five remaining pilots headed there, including Workman, who would be last to land. Again the first two pilots landed with no problems, but the

U.S. AIR FORCE

drag chute on the third aircraft failed to deploy, and its pilot also locked his brakes. The tower instructed the remaining two to land on another runway, and they added power and raised their landing gear to get into position. But with all the confusion, pilot number four forgot to lower his gear again. He touched down on his belly, sliding to a stop exactly at the intersection of the last remaining runway, closing both runways. In less than 15 minutes, Talbot’s men had damaged three F-100s and closed every suitable runway within 100 miles of Oklahoma City. Workman, by this time low on fuel, returned to Tinker and managed to touch down safely on the usable side of Ebneter’s runway. To no one’s surprise, the accident board found that stress and fatigue had played a major role in the gear-up landing. It became another lesson learned for the Nineteenth’s planners.

B

y the fall of 1957, the Nineteenth was ready to take on Asia as well. Mobile Zebra was the first attempt to deploy a gaggle of 47 aircraft across the Pacific. In early November, F-100s, B-66s and McDonnell F-101s flew to their staging area at George AFB, Calif. Nine B-66s were the first to depart for the Asian theater, but only three managed to make it all the way to the Philippines. Five had to turn back after missing a tanker rendezvous, while another apparently experienced mechanical problems at Wake Island. The three Destroyers that made it received a resounding welcome as they flew over Manila prior to landing at Clark AFB. Next to take off from George were 20 F-100Cs from Foster, led by Brig. Gen. Avelin Tacon. The plan was to rendezvous with

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

57

Above: An F-100D from Clovis AFB flies over Japan’s Mount Fuji during Operation Mobile Zebra. Above right: 1st Lt. William Starr of the 386th Fighter Bomber Squadron wears the drogue he shredded after ripping it off a tanker on the return flight. Right: Starr’s certificate includes a fanciful Pacific route map.

Boeing KB-50 tankers 700 miles off the West Coast, then continue to Hickam AFB, Hawaii. But as the fighters pulled up to the tankers, pandemonium broke out. The tanker pilots had never tried to refuel so many airplanes at once, and hadn’t rehearsed radio procedures. When the lead pilot’s radio failed, no one knew what to do and they all started trying to talk on the radio at once. In the ensuing chaos, not everyone managed to refuel. As a result, only 14 airplanes headed to Hawaii, while the others limped back to George with barely enough fuel to make it there. Ebneter, who had been designated as a spare for the mission, suddenly found himself headed for Hawaii. Workman, also a spare, flew back to George but was ordered to Hawaii the next day. He recalled that when he joined up on the KB-50s the second day, the “antique” tankers were quite a sight to behold, with many having “feathered props, and smoke pouring out behind others.” After arriving in Hawaii, the Foster jets made their way to Japan, refueling over Guam and Wake Island. Arlie Blood, now a retired colonel, led 16 F-100Ds from Clovis (later Cannon) AFB, N.M., which left George after the Foster jets were underway. Following a day in Hawaii, where the pilots bought aloha shirts to wear during their briefings, the Clovis F-100s headed for Clark. In his memoir Only Angels Have Wings, Blood would recall that the aircrews stayed busy once they arrived at their deployed bases, logging daily practice bombing runs in Korea. On the return trip, Blood’s F-100s set a new speed record between Tokyo and Honolulu, covering the distance in about 6½ hours. First Lieutenant William Starr, in Blood’s command, brought home an unusual souvenir: the remains of a refueling drogue he had ripped off a tanker between Hawaii and California. After Mobile Zebra, the Nineteenth planners were confident they 58

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

could deploy anywhere in the world. They got their chance in 1958 during the Lebanon crisis. On July 15, the Joint Chiefs of Staff ordered Composite Air Strike Force Bravo to deploy to Incirlik Air Base in Turkey. Within two hours F-100s from Myrtle Beach, S.C., roared into the air, arriving 13 hours later in Turkey. CASF Bravo eventually deployed 860 personnel and 202 tons of equipment to Incirlik in less than four days. Fortunately, the Lebanon crisis ended quickly. But the speedy dispatch of men and materiel to Turkey was seen as proof that the mobile rapid-deployment concept was effective. Further successes followed, with a deployment to the Far East in response to clashes between Taiwan and China that same year, and during the 1961 Berlin Crisis, when a CASF rushed 210 USAF and Air National Guard planes to Europe. Later in 1961, Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara integrated CASF efforts into those of the Strategic Army Corps, with the resultant merger redesignated the United States Strike Command. The Nineteenth Air Force’s CASF experiments had laid the foundation for the modern USAF expeditionary forces, deploying the right assets to the right places as needed.  Seattle-based writer Eileen A. Bjorkman is a retired U.S. Air Force colonel and flight test engineer. For further reading, she suggests: Ideas, Concepts, Doctrine: Basic Thinking in the United States Air Force, 1907-1960, Volume I, by Robert Frank Futrell; Anatomy of a Reform: The Expeditionary Air Force, by Richard G. Davis; and The Air Force Role in Five Crises, by Richard Nalty.

PHOTOS: COURTESY OF JOHN STARR

ADVERTISEMENT

How a Chicago Doctor Shook Up the Hearing Aid Industry with his Newest Invention New nearly invisible digital hearing aid breaks price barrier in affordability Reported by J. Page &KLFDJR%RDUGFHUWLÀHGSK\VLFLDQ'U 6&KHUXNXULKDVGRQHLWRQFHDJDLQZLWK KLVQHZHVWLQYHQWLRQRIDPHGLFDOJUDGH ALL DIGITAL affordable hearing aid. 7KLVQHZGLJLWDOKHDULQJDLGLVSDFNHG ZLWKDOOWKHIHDWXUHVRIFRPSHWLWRUV DWDPHUHIUDFWLRQRIWKHFRVWNow, most people with hearing loss are able to enjoy crystal clear, natural sound—in a crowd, on the phone, in the wind — without suffering through “whistling” and annoying background noise. New Digital Hearing Aid Outperforms Expensive Competitors 7KLVVOHHNOLJKWZHLJKWIXOO\SURJUDPPHGKHDULQJDLGLVWKHRXWJURZWKRI WKHGLJLWDOUHYROXWLRQWKDWLVFKDQJLQJRXU ZRUOG:KLOHGHPDQGIRU´DOOWKLQJV GLJLWDOμFDXVHGPRVWSULFHVWRSOXQJH FRQVLGHU'9'SOD\HUVDQGFRPSXWHUV ZKLFKRULJLQDOO\VROGIRUWKRXVDQGVRI GROODUVDQGWRGD\FDQEHSXUFKDVHGIRU OHVV \HWWKHFRVWRIDGLJLWDOPHGLFDO KHDULQJDLGUHPDLQHGRXWRIUHDFK 'U&KHUXNXULNQHZWKDWPDQ\RIKLV SDWLHQWVZRXOGEHQHÀWEXWFRXOGQ·WDIIRUG WKHH[SHQVHRIWKHVHQHZGLJLWDOKHDULQJ DLGV*HQHUDOO\WKH\DUHnotFRYHUHGE\ 0HGLFDUHDQGPRVWSULYDWHKHDOWKLQVXUDQFH

Nearly Invisible! SAME FEATURES AS EXPENSIVE HEARING AID COMPETITORS

 Mini Behind-The-Ear

hearing aid with thin tubing for a nearly invisible profile

 Advanced noise reduction to make speech clearer



Feedback Cancellation eliminates whistling

 Wide dynamic range

compression makes soft sounds audible and loud sounds comfortable

 Telecoil setting for use

with compatible phones, and looped environments like churches

 3 programs and volume dial to accommodate most common types of hearing loss even in challenging listening environments

The doctor evaluated all the high priced digital hearing aids on the market, broke them down to their base components, and then created his own affordable version—called the MD+HDULQJ$LG® AIR for its virtually invisible, lightweight appearance. Affordable Digital Technology

8VLQJDGYDQFHGGLJLWDOWHFKQRORJ\WKH MD+HDULQJ$LG®AIRDXWRPDWLFDOO\DGMXVWV WR\RXUOLVWHQLQJHQYLURQPHQW³SULRULWL]LQJ VSHHFKDQGGHHPSKDVL]LQJEDFNJURXQG QRLVH([SHULHQFHDOORIWKHVRXQGV\RX·YH EHHQPLVVLQJDWDSULFH\RXFDQDIIRUGThis doctor designed and approved hearing aid comes with a full year’s supply of long-life batteries. It delivers crisp, clear VRXQGDOOGD\ORQJDQGWKHVRIWÁH[LEOH ear buds are so comfortable you won’t realize you’re wearing them.

Try It Yourself At Home With Our 45 Day Risk-Free Trial 2IFRXUVHKHDULQJLVEHOLHYLQJDQGZH LQYLWH\RXWRWU\LWIRU\RXUVHOIZLWKRXU 5,6.)5((GD\KRPHWULDO,I\RXDUH QRWFRPSOHWHO\VDWLVÀHGVLPSO\UHWXUQLW ZLWKLQWKDWWLPHSHULRGIRUDIXOOUHIXQGRI \RXUSXUFKDVHSULFH

Can a hearing aid delay or prevent dementia? A study by Johns Hopkins and National Institute on Aging researchers suggests older individuals with hearing loss are significantly more likely to develop dementia over time than those who retain their hearing. They suggest that an intervention—such as a hearing aid—could delay or prevent dementia by improving hearing!

For the Lowest Price plus FREE Shipping Call Today

800-873-0541

“Satisfied Buyers Agree AIR Is Best Digital Value!”

Phone Lines Open 24 Hours EVERY DAY

“I am hearing things I didn’t know I was missing. Really amazing. I’m wearing them all the time” —Linda Irving, Indiana “Almost work too well. I am a teacher and hearing much better now” —Lillian Barden, California “I have used many expensive hearing aids, some over $5,000. The Airs have greatly improved my enjoyment of life” —Som Y., Michigan “I would definitely recommend them to my patients with hearing loss” —Amy S., Audiologist, Munster, Indiana

Use Offer Code AR79 to get FREE Batteries for a Full Year!

www.MDHearingAid.com/AR79 100% MONEY BACK GUARANTEE

45 DAY RISK FREE TRIAL

BBB RATING

Proudly assembled in the USA from Domestic & Imported Components.

A

©2014

REVIEWS BOOKS FABLED FIFTEEN: The Pacific Saga of Carrier Air Group 15 by Thomas McKelvey Cleaver, Casemate, Havertown, Pa., 2014, $32.95. You might think of Air Group 15 as the fortunate culmination of a process that began with the first carrier battles of the Pacific War, which turned the tide in the Pacific in 1942, and continued with the introduction of an improved generation of U.S. Navy carrier planes in late 1943. When Air Group 15 replaced Air Group 9 aboard the first of a new generation of carriers, USS Essex, it embarked on a six-month tour of stunning successes. As Thomas McKelvey Cleaver makes clear at the outset of Fabled Fifteen, even the newest combat aircraft (which in the case of the Curtiss SB2C Helldiver were not necessarily viewed as welcome “improvements”) were of limited value without the human factor—the crash course of training and the forging of unit cohesion that preceded the fighting debut of “Satan’s Playmates,” as the pilots originally called themselves. For the most part, Cleaver does an excellent job of weaving the stories of the airmen—from day-to-day affairs to a grueling succession of air battles—within the context of the Pacific offensive. Their tour included the largest carrier battle in history, in the Philippine Sea, and the largest sea battle in history, Leyte Gulf. The 310 enemy planes credited to VF-15’s Grumman F6F Hellcats included a one-day record of 68.5 during the “Marianas Turkey Shoot” of June 19, 1944, and the most downed in a single action by one pilot, nine on October 24 by the air group commander and U.S. Navy ace of aces David McCampbell, for which he received the Medal of Honor (see Cleaver’s “Relentless in Battle” in our July 2014 issue). The unit also boasted the youngest U.S. Navy ace, Clarence “Spike” Borley, and a Hollywood leading man who became a fighter ace for real, Bert DeWayne Morris. Among the group’s many achievements, it played a role in the sinking of the giant Japa60

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

nese battleship Musashi, the light carriers Chitose and Zuiho, and Zuikaku, the last of the six fleet carriers that had attacked Pearl Harbor. Fabled Fifteen is a nicely balanced history-within-context of an outstanding Navy outfit. Jon Guttman IMAGES OF AVIATION SERIES Arcadia Publishing, Mount Pleasant, S.C., $21.99. This roundup covers several new books by a company busy creating an invaluable niche aviation book market. Arcadia Publishing accomplishes this via subjects no major book publisher would typically bother to cover. Even though the potential market is small, these books are vitally important, for they establish histories that would otherwise be lost forever. Jeff Ruetsche, Arcadia’s publisher, created this series under the title “Images of Aviation.” He uses relatively small print runs plus local advertising to sell enough books over time to achieve a profit, choosing authors who want to tell an important local story primarily with period photos complemented by insightful captions. The net result is a happy combination: The publisher makes enough money to continue the process, and authors have the pride of a published book, book signings and recognition of their knowledge of local history. Here are some of Arcadia’s recent offerings: Akron Aviation, by James I. Pryor II, is a fascinating survey of a very complex history that extends from before the Wright brothers through the fascinating lighter-than-air period to huge factory production of complete Vought Corsairs and parts for many other aircraft—not to mention the famous naval air station itself. Kansas City B-25 Factory, by John Fredrickson and John Roper, is certainly a surprise title, given that books usually celebrate Kansas in terms of Stearmans and Boeings from Wichita. But the authors have done their homework, providing a rich pictorial history of hard-working Kansans who produced 6,608 aircraft within an amazingly short period.

Maureen Smith Keillor and Richard P. Keillor include more than 200 crisp images in Naval Air Station Pensacola, chronicling the Florida panhandle city’s history from its days as a Spanish fort to its establishment as a flight training station 100 years ago, and extending to the present. Paine Field, by Steve K. Bertrand, describes the history of an airfield that started as a Works Progress Administration project in 1930 and served as a military base for years, then provided financial security and a future for Seattle-area residents when Boeing acquired it as a factory site—the biggest in the world—for its new 747 airliner. Beale Air Force Base During the Cold War, by James B. Quest, will stir the hearts of all former Strategic Air Command personnel, particularly the thousands who passed through one of the most important—and often the most highly classified—bases of the time. It includes more than 200 nostalgic photographs, with great captions. For more on the Arcadia aviation series, visit arcadiapublishing.com/series/imagesof-aviation to look over the broad selection of titles offered. Walter J. Boyne BILLY BISHOP LONE WOLF HUNTER: The RAF Ace Re-Examined by Peter Kilduff, Grub Street, London, 2014, $39.95. The dean of World War I aviation biographers, Peter Kilduff, has outdone himself with a very difficult subject, examining the career of Canadian hero William Avery “Billy” Bishop. Kilduff’s work is distinguished here by his judgment when balancing Bishop’s attributed history against possible sources of confirmation from German or Allied sources, as well as his judicious use of excerpts from Bishop’s letters to his sweetheart and later wife, Margaret. Kilduff is not the first to conduct such an inquiry into Bishop’s claim of 72 victories, but his book is by far the best researched. An example is his use of 13th Wing, RFC, reports that credit Bishop with flying more patrols and making more contacts with enemy aircraft than any other member of

his squadron. Perhaps more important, this account is nuanced, for Kilduff manages to quote from those reports and letters in a way that vividly portrays changes in Bishop’s character. Readers can pick up on the subtle influence that the 23-yearold pilot’s genuine skills and successes have upon his dreams of glory. Kilduff uses restraint in citing the corroboration—or lack of same—of Bishop’s claims. As you progress through this book, you sense that Bishop understands his good fortune in becoming recognized by the British government as a necessary hero. He wants to become known as the British counterpart to French ace Georges Guynemer, and although it is never stated outright, he must have had the same drive to exceed Manfred von Richthofen’s total of 80 victories. That accolade would be denied Bishop, but little else was. He was awarded England’s supreme combat honor, the Victoria Cross, and other high decorations. There is no denying that Billy Bishop was a brave and talented fighter pilot, with perhaps 27 victories to his credit. Kilduff allows

the excerpts from letters, the frequent notations on his combat reports that “Bishop was alone” and the lack of confirmation from careless and often obscured German records to tell the story and let the reader decide the truth. His careful notation of all the victories in the appendix helps underline the difficulties in getting an exact count. It is hard to conclude there was ever even an informal understanding between Bishop and whoever was backing his ascent to glory in the Canadian government. Instead, a mutually unstated but understood symbiosis occurred. Bishop on the one hand wanted to believe in his victories, even if they were doubtful, and officials on the other hand wanted him to become famous. Before leaping to any conclusions about the morality of either position, readers must remember how great the British losses were in this savage conflict and understand that Canada had previously refused to accord aviators the honor and glory routinely granted by other governments. So, in a way, Bishop was led to believe that he was indeed the far-reaching, always

successful ace that he reported to Margaret. Once his story was established, there was no way out, and in any case neither side wanted one. By the time doubts about his combat record began to emerge, Bishop was so idolized that he probably believed his record was exactly what he said it was— and the government was not talking. Billy Bishop is expertly laid out, with photos of the aircraft mentioned by Bishop, particularly the German types. Kilduff has done a marvelous and subtle job of showing how a real hero became larger than life. Walter J. Boyne CURTISS ASCENDER XP-55 by Gerry Balzer, Ginter Books, Simi Valley, Calif., 2014, $24.95. War is urgent. Yet amid history’s ghastliest conflict both sides found the leisure to evaluate unorthodox flying machines, in full knowledge that they would

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

61

contribute nothing to the outcome. The weird Curtiss XP-55 Ascender was one of three pusher-propeller aircraft that underwent tests long after the more conventional P-51 Mustang was waxing the wall with the Third Reich’s fighter force (the others were the Vultee XP-54 and Northrop XP-56). The tailless Ascender had swept wings. Gerry Balzer is an unsung archival hero who has spent a lifetime researching weird and wonderful aircraft, plus a few that are less bizarre. A diligent researcher and smart writer known for his generosity to others in the field, Balzer has evolved into the go-to expert on many Northrop designs. He’s also a World War II–era veteran and a retired aeronautical engineer who worked on a dozen major aircraft projects. As a teenager, rummaging in the Smithsonian archive back in the day when you could buy an 8-by-10 print for 75 cents, I felt I’d hit the big time when I discovered just one photograph of the XP-55. This book provides 145 photos, many never before seen, of the Model CW 24B developmental aircraft that preceded the XP-55 and the XP-55 itself. Although two of the

62

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

three Ascenders crashed during tests, the third is on display at the Air Zoo museum in Kalamazoo, Mich.—on loan from the Smithsonian—and it makes for a grand portrait on the cover of this book from prolific publisher Steve Ginter. Balzer explains technical details in plain language that will work for anyone and is ideal for young readers. This is the definitive work on the XP-55. It will fascinate you for hours. You’ll savor the fruit of Balzer’s research and ask yourself, “How did they do that, anyway?” Robert F. Dorr

CLASSICS THE AIR CAMPAIGN: Planning for Combat by John A. Warden III In August 1990, the first wave of American airmen arrived in the Middle East to shield allies in the region from the territorial ambitions of Iraq’s Saddam Hussein. Kuwait had been overrun, and

back home little-known U.S. Air Force Colonel John Warden briefed the head of Central Command and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff on his vision for the air campaign to repel the invaders from the tiny, oil-rich Persian Gulf state. Generals Norman Schwarzkopf and Colin Powell were both wowed by his presentation. Warden had risen through the fighter pilot ranks. After graduating from the Air Force Academy, he went to Vietnam and flew 266 combat missions as a forward air controller. He eventually commanded a fighter wing in Germany, where he introduced new tactics. In 1986, while studying at the National War College in Washington, D.C., Warden wrote his thesis on planning the modern air campaign. His slim treatise was published two years later by the National Defense University Press, with the first commercial printing in 1989. The study was subsequently issued in numerous editions and in six languages. Warden’s book became an instant sensation when its concepts were successfully put to the test in January-February 1991. The late-20th-century air warfare blueprint that he had laid out in generic form served as the intellectual foundation for the very effective air component of Operation Desert Storm. In just 42 days of air-centric combat, Saddam’s forces were decisively routed. Warden’s theory contended that the enemy is a system, which needs to be attacked in parallel rather than in serial fashion. A focus on the essential centers of gravity, he posited, would make it possible to defeat an opponent without ever having to deal with its field forces. Instead, an air force could take down command and control nodes to blind opposing forces and throw them into disarray. Woven into Warden’s text are enduring principles: Air superiority is a prerequisite to victory, and an air war must be fought offensively. His ideas melded with the introduction of such emergent technologies as precision munitions, ubiquitous satellites and multi-spectral stealth to create a winning construct for the times. Warden has suggested that in “many circumstances” airpower alone can win wars. In the 1990s, events seemed to support his claim—or nearly so. Yet in the years since then the West’s nemeses have increasingly morphed into irregulars, who propagate

insurgencies that foster ill-suited pairings and protracted engagements. The plan that worked against conventional forces in Hussein’s day doesn’t have the same applicability against roving bands of fanatical fighters. For the ingenious Warden, whose stature is secure alongside other visionaries such as Giulio Douhet and Billy Mitchell, the challenge today is to map out how airpower can vanquish the West’s frustratingly resilient low-tech enemies. Philip Handleman

AIRWARE BUZZ ALDRIN’S SPACE PROGRAM MANAGER Slitherine.com, $30. Simulations about life outside the cockpit are rare. Buzz Aldrin’s Space Program Manager is a plucky independent effort that takes players into the control rooms and boardrooms of NASA and beyond. It’s heavily inspired by Buzz Aldrin’s Race Into Space, a 1993 sim about the race to the moon. The developers have extended

the concept to give players the option to guide U.S., Russian or third-party space programs to the moon and beyond. Gameplay revolves around staffing a program with engineers, astronauts and mission controllers and selecting programs to green light. Time invested in staff training, research and development yields more reliable equipment and better chances of success. Though BASPM offers several play modes, the most engaging is a single-player campaign that reprises the race to the moon, challenging you to find the best balance of resources against time limits. It features historical components such as NASA’s Ranger probe, McDonnell’s Mercury capsule and the Soviet Vostok craft, along with some programs that didn’t see operational reality, such as McDonnell’s Advanced Gemini. A sandbox mode allows players to develop a program at their own pace, and there’s also a multiplayer mode. The graphics are simple but clean, the music is pleasant, the code is stable and the whole package is clearly a labor of love. The manual includes a nice interview with consulting astronaut Buzz Aldrin. And no mat-

ter how many times I launched a rocket, I always found the mission control sequences suspenseful—and cheered whenever a mission was a success. BASPM isn’t without some quirks. Although the interface is responsive, there were some points where the way back to a previous screen wasn’t clear. It also seems odd that a game emphasizing spreadsheetlike sorting capabilities to help with decisions on staff allocation doesn’t include those same tools for evaluating potential new hires. Plus the sim would benefit greatly from a strategy game staple called the “tech tree,” a map explaining how foundational technologies relate to subsequent ones. BASPM gets around this to some extent by displaying programs in sequence, but what’s not obvious is that one of the risks you can take is to skip some of the programs. Some may feel this game is less about space than shuffling staff between training and programs. But those who missed Buzz Aldrin’s Race Into Space or would like to play a contemporary version will find this new game a challenging exercise. Bernard Dy

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

63

AMERICAN AVIATION HISTORICAL SOCIETY American aviation history without advertising!

Check it out at: www.aahs-online.org/avhistory From the editors of World War II magazine

- Network with other aviation enthusiasts - Access to over 150,000 images from the AAHS photo archives - Access the AAHS archives, 50 plus years of publications - Receive quarterly journals & newsletters

A 70th Anniversary

P.O. Box 3023 ,ƵŶƟŶŐƚŽŶĞĂĐŚ ဓϮϲϬϱ

Collector’s Edition Remembering D-Day

Invention of the Year

Item: WHGDD Print: $11.99 Digital: $9.99

ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

PERSONAL SOUND AMPLIFICATION PRODUCTS (PSAPs)

THEY’RE NOT HEARING AIDS

1-800-358-6327 HistoryNet.com/dday-70th

Personal Sound Amplification Products use advanced digital processing to amplify the frequencies of human speech. Thanks to the efforts of a doctor who leads a renowned hearing institute, this product is manufactured in an efficient production process that enables us to make it available at an affordable price. Need an extra volume boost? Try Perfect Choice HD™ for yourself with our exclusive home trial.

Weider History Group, PO Box 8005, Dept. AV503A, Aston, PA 19014

1-888-546-2643 Please mention promotional code 48790.

81009

Call now toll free for the lowest price ever.

Books/Publications GREAT GIFT FOR DAD! Warbirds: European Air War by: Jeff Slader. Exciting WWII Flying action novel. Book or Kindle. Order through: www. amazon.com GHOSTWRITER FOR HIRE. Write your book today! Also: book proposals, editing, manuscript review. I don’t promise the moon, just a well-written book. Call Jonathan The Ghost Writer at: 800-6429278, www.jwghostwriter.com

For information on placing a Direct Response or Marketplace ad in Print and Online contact us today: (800) 649-9800 • Fax: (800) 649-6712 • [email protected] • www.russelljohns.com

FLIGHT TEST

By Jon Guttman

Jagdwaffe’s Last Gasps H

A

Even after Operation Bodenplatte, the German fighter force fought on.

1. What message did the Royal Air Force send via the Soldier Broadcasting Service at Calais to night fighter ace Heinz-Wolfgang Schnaufer on February 16, 1945?

E B

A. Congratulations on your 107th victory B. Mosquitos have you marked for death C. Surrender—resistance is futile D. Happy birthday

F

2. Jet pilot Eduard Schallmoser scored three of his four aerial victories by which means? C

I

A. 30mm cannons B. Unguided rockets C. Midair collisions D. Aerial bombs

3. Who was not a member of Adolf Galland’s Jagdverband 44 in April 1945?

G

A. Johannes Steinhoff B. Gordon Gollob C. Heinrich Bär D. Günther Lützow

6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

Lloyd C.V Roland D.VIb Focke Wulf Ta-154 Deperdussin monocoque B.A.T. FK-23 Bantam I

For Foreign Use Match the airplane with the foreign customer that ordered or used it.

A. Breda 27 B. PZL P-24E C. Curtiss Hawk 75N D. Vickers 143 E. North American Mustang F. PZL-Mielec M-15 G. Martin 167 H. Hanriot HD.1 I. Junkers K-47 J. Curtiss-Wright CW-21B

1. Britain 2. Italy 3. Soviet Union 4. China 5. Turkey 6. Romania 7. Netherlands East Indies 8. Bolivia 9. Thailand 10. France

A. Fw-190D-12 B. Me-163B-1 C. Me-109K-4 D. Ta-152H-1

5. Rudolf Schmitt claimed the only victory in what jet fighter, only to be “robbed” by a flak unit’s counterclaim? A. Bachem Ba-349 B. Heinkel He-280 C. Heinkel He-162 D. Horten Ho-229

ANSWERS More Wooden Wonders

Hughes H-4 Hercules Royal Aircraft Factory S.E.4 LaGG-3 Pfalz D.VIII Loughead S-1 Sport

1.F, 2.H, 3.E, 4.B, 5.A, 6.C, 7.D, 8.G, 9.J, 10.I

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

For Foreign Use

Match the monocoque or semi-monocoque silhouette to the name.

A.4, B.6, C.9, D.8, E.1, F.3, G.10, H.2, I.5, J.7

More Wooden Wonders

4. On April 21, 1945, Josef Keil became the only pilot to achieve ace status in which fighter?

Jagdwaffe’s LAst Gasps

J

1.D, 2.C, 3.B, 4.D, 5.C

D

MARCH 2015 AV I AT I O N H I S T O RY

65

AERO POSTER

A

flight of de Havilland Mosquitos drops bombs on the heart of Germany’s capital city during a daylight raid, in one of a series of Back Them Up! posters created by British advertising artist, and later book illustrator, Rob Jobson. As Stephan Wilkinson notes in his profile of the “Wooden Wonder” (P. 30), “Berlin was a frequent Mosquito target, for the airplane had the range to reach it and the heft to carry at first four 500-pound bombs and later as much as a two-ton blockbuster....”

66

A V I A T I O N H I S T O R Y MARCH 2015

©STEVE SPELLER/ALAMY

NEW!

ON YOUR iPAD

®

AND GET:

• VIDEO AND ANIMATION • VIRTUAL COCKPIT TOURS • BONUS CONTENT AND MORE!

START YOUR SUBSCRIPTION TODAY! www.aviationhistory.com/subscribe (WWSLHUK[OL(WWSLSVNVHYL[YHKLTHYRZVM(WWSL0UJ YLNPZ[LYLKPU[OL<:HUKV[OLYJV\U[YPLZ (WW:[VYLPZHZLY]PJLTHYRVM(WWSL0UJ

Y O U D E F E N D. W E R E W A R D.

INTRODUC ING

THE PENFED DEFENDER V I S A S I G N AT U R E®

Best-In-Class Benefits Designed Exclusively for America’s Defenders

APPLY NOW! PenFed.org/DefenderVisaAH315 800-247-5626 Available to the courageous men and women of the United States military — Active, Guard, Reserve, Veterans and Retired.2

Q

1.5% CASH BACK on every purchase, every time, everywhere1.

Q

ABSOLUTELY NO FEES No annual fee, no foreign transaction fee, no balance transfer fee, no cash advance fee, no late fee, no over credit limit fee.

Q

8.99% PURCHASE AND CASH ADVANCE APR that will vary with the market based on the Prime Rate.

Q

NO PENALTY APR

Rate and offers current as of December 7, 2014 and are subject to change. 1Cash advances, credit card checks, or balance transfers are excluded from cash rewards. 4.99% APR promotional balance transfer rate on transfers made between now and December 31, 2014. After that, the APR for the unpaid balance and any new balance transfers will vary with the market based on the Prime Rate, and is currently 8.99%. This transaction is subject to credit approval. 2 You must be in an active military service status, a member of the Reserves or National Guard, honorably discharged U.S. Military Veterans or retired from such service to qualify for this product. PenFed is Federally Insured by NCUA. © 2014, Pentagon Federal Credit Union. All rights reserved.