The Mastery of the Air
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William J. Claxton >> The Mastery of the Air
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Quite recently Mr. Alexander Gross, the well-known maker of
aviation instruments, who is even more famous for his excellent
aviation maps, claims to have produced an anti-drift
aero-compass, which has been specially designed for use on
aeroplanes. The chief advantages of this compass are that the
dial is absolutely steady; the needle is extremely sensitive and
shows accurately the most minute change of course; the anti-drift
arrangement checks the slightest deviation from the straight
course; and it is fitted with a revolving sighting arrangement
which is of great importance in the adjustment of the instrument.
Before the airman leaves Earth he sets his compass to the course
to be steered, and during the flight he has only to see that the
two boldly-marked north points--on the dial and on the outer
ring--coincide to know that he is keeping his course. The north
points are luminous, so that they are clearly visible at night.
It is quite possible that if some of our early aviators had
carried such a highly-efficient compass as this, their lives
might have been saved, for they would not have gone so far astray
in their course. The anti-drift compass has been adopted by
various Governments, and it now forms part of the equipment of
the Austrian military aeroplane.
When undertaking cross-country flights over strange land an
airman finds his way by a specially-prepared map which is spread
out before him in an aluminium map case. From the illustration
here given of an aviator's map, you will see that it differs in
many respects from the ordinary map. Most British aviation maps
are made and supplied by Mr Alexander Gross, of the firm of
"Geographia", London.
Many airmen seem to find their way instinctively, so to speak,
and some are much better in picking out landmarks, and
recognizing the country generally, than others. This is the case
even with pedestrians, who have the guidance of sign-posts,
street names, and so on to assist them. However accurately some
people are directed, they appear to have the greatest difficulty
in finding their way, while others, more fortunate, remember
prominent features on the route, and pick out their course as
accurately as does a homing pigeon.
Large sheets of water form admirable "sign-posts" for an airman;
thus at Kempton Park, one of the turning-points in the course
followed in the "Aerial Derby", there are large reservoirs, which
enable the airmen to follow the course at this point with the
greatest ease. Railway lines, forests, rivers and canals, large
towns, prominent structures, such as gasholders, chimney-stalks,
and so on, all assist an airman to find his way.
CHAPTER XLIII
The First Airman to Fly Upside Down
Visitors to Brooklands aerodrome on 25th September, 1913, saw one
of the greatest sensations in this or any other century, for on
that date a daring French aviator, M. Pegoud, performed the
hazardous feat of flying upside down.
Before we describe the marvellous somersaults which Pegoud made,
two or three thousand feet above the earth, it would be well to
see what was the practical use of it all. If this amazing airman
had been performing some circus trick in the air simply for the
sake of attracting large crowds of people to witness it, and
therefore being the means of bringing great monetary gain both to
him and his patrons, then this chapter would never have been
written. Indeed, such a risk to one's life, if there had been
nothing to learn from it, would have been foolish.
No; Pegoud's thrilling performance must be looked at from an
entirely different standpoint to such feats of daring as the
placing of one's head in the jaws of a lion, the traversing of
Niagara Falls by means of a tight-rope stretched across them, and
other similar senseless acts, which are utterly useless to
mankind.
Let us see what such a celebrated airman as Mr. Gustav Hamel said
of the pioneer of upside-down flying.
"His looping the loop, his upside-down flights, his general
acrobatic feats in the air are all of the utmost value to pilots
throughout the world. We shall have proof of this, I am sure, in
the near future. Pegoud has shown us what it is possible to do
with a modern machine. In his first attempt to fly upside down
he courted death. Like all pioneers, he was taking liberties
with the unknown elements. No man before him had attempted the
feat. It is true that men have been upside down in the air; but
they were turned over by sudden gusts of wind, and in most cases
were killed. Pegoud is all the time rehearsing accidents and
showing how easy it is for a pilot to recover equilibrium
providing he remains perfectly calm and clear-headed. Any one of
his extraordinary positions might be brought about by adverse
elements. It is quite conceivable that a sudden gust of wind
might turn the machine completely over. Hitherto any pilot in
such circumstances would give himself up for lost. Pegoud has
taught us what to do in such a case. . . . his flights have given
us all a new confidence.
"In a gale the machine might be upset at many different angles.
Pegoud has shown us that it is easily possible to recover from
such predicaments. He has dealt with nearly every kind of
awkward position into which one might be driven in a gale of
wind, or in a flight over mountains where air-currents prevail.
"He has thus gained evidence which will be of the utmost value to
present and future pilots, and prove a factor of signal
importance in the preservation of life in the air."
Such words as these, coming from a man of Mr. Hamel's reputation
as an aviator, clearly show us that M. Pegoud has a life-saving
mission for airmen throughout the world.
Let us stand, in imagination, with the enormous crowd of
spectators who invaded the Surrey aerodrome on 25th September,
and the two following days, in 1913.
What an enormous crowd it was! A line of motor-cars bordered the
track for half a mile, and many of the spectators were busy city
men who had taken a hasty lunch and rushed off down to Weybridge
to see a little French airman risk his life in the air.
Thousands of foot passengers toiled along the dusty road from the
paddock to the hangars, and thousands more, who did not care to
pay the shilling entrance fee, stood closely packed on the high
ground outside the aerodrome.
Biplanes and monoplanes came driving through the air from Hendon,
and airmen of world-wide fame, such as Sopwith, Hamel, Verrier,
and Hucks, had gathered together as disciples of the great
life-saving missionary. Stern critics these! Men who would
ruthlessly expose any "faked" performance if need were!
And where is the little airman while all this crowd is gathering?
Is he very excited? He has never before been in England. We
wonder if his amazing coolness and admirable control over his
nerves will desert him among strange surroundings.
Probably Pegoud was the coolest man in all that vast crowd. He
seemed to want to hide himself from public gaze. Most of his
time, was taken up in signing post-cards for people who had been
fortunate enough to discover him in a little restaurant near
which his shed was situated.
At last his Bleriot monoplane was wheeled out, and he was
strapped, or harnessed, into his seat. "Was the machine a
'freak' monoplane?" we wondered.
We were soon assured that such was not the case. Indeed, as
Pegoud himself says: "I have used a standard type of monoplane
on purpose. Almost every aeroplane, if it is properly balanced,
has just as good a chance as mine, and I lay particular stress on
the fact that there is nothing extraordinary about my machine, so
that no one can say my achievements are in any way faked."
During the preliminary operations his patron, M. Bleriot, stood
beside the machine, and chatted affably with the aviator. At
last the signal was given for his ascent, and in a few moments
Pegoud was climbing with the nose of his machine tilted high in
the air. For about a quarter of an hour he flew round in
ever-widening circles, rising very quietly and steadily until he
had reached an altitude of about 4000 feet. A deep silence
seemed to have settled on the vast crowd nearly a mile below, and
the musical droning of his engine could be plainly heard.
Then his movements began to be eccentric. First, he gave a
wonderful exhibition of banking at right angles. Then, after
about ten minutes, he shut off his engine, pitched downwards and
gracefully righted himself again.
At last the amazing feat began. His left wing was raised, his
right wing dipped, and the nose of the machine dived steeply, and
turned right round with the airman hanging head downwards, and
the wheels of the monoplane uppermost. In this way he travelled
for about a hundred yards, and then slowly righted the machine,
until it assumed its normal position, with the engine again
running. Twice more the performance was repeated, so that he
travelled from one side of the aerodrome to the other--a distance
of about a mile and a half.
Next he descended from 4000 feet to about 1200 feet in four
gigantic loops, and, as one writer said: "He was doing exactly
what the clown in the pantomime does when he climbs to the top of
a staircase and rolls deliberately over and over until he reaches
the ground. But this funny man stopped before he reached the
ground, and took his last flight as gracefully as a Columbine
with outspread skirts."
Time after time Pegoud made a series of S-shaped dives,
somersaults, and spiral descents, until, after an exhibition
which thrilled quite 50,000 people, he planed gently to Earth.
Hitherto Pegoud's somersaults have been made by turning over from
front to back, but the daring aviator, and others who followed
him, afterwards turned over from right to left or from left to
right. Pegoud claimed to have demonstrated that the aeroplane is
uncapsizeable, and that if a parachute be attached to the
fuselage, which is the equivalent of a life boat on board a ship,
then every pilot should feel as safe in a heavier-than-air
machine as in a motor-car.
CHAPTER XLIV
The First Englishman to Fly Upside Down
After M. Pegoud's exhibition of upside-down flying in this
country it was only to be expected that British aviators would
emulate his daring feat. Indeed, on the same day that the little
Frenchman was turning somersaults in the air at Brooklands Mr.
Hamel was asking M. Bleriot for a machine similar to that used
by Pegoud, so that he might demonstrate to airmen the stability
of the aeroplane in almost all conceivable positions.
However, it was not the daring and skilful Hamel who had the
honour of first following in Pegoud's footsteps, but another
celebrated pilot, Mr. Hucks.
Mr. Hucks was an interested spectator at Brooklands when Pegoud
flew there in September, and he felt that, given similar
conditions, there was no reason why he should not repeat Pegoud's
performance. He therefore talked the matter over with M.
Bleriot, and began practising for his great ordeal.
His first feat was to hang upside-down in a chair supported by a
beam in one of the sheds, so that he would gradually become
accustomed to the novel position. For a time this was not at all
easy. Have you ever tried to stand on your hands with your feet
upwards for any length of time? To realize the difficulty of
being head downwards, just do this, and get someone to hold your
legs. The blood will, of course, "rush to the head", as we say,
and the congestion of the blood-vessels in this part of the body
will make you feel extremely dizzy. Such an occurrence would be
fatal in an aeroplane nearly a mile high in the air at a time
when one requires an especially clear brain to manipulate the
various controls.
But, strange to say, the airman gradually became used to the
"heels-over-head" position, and, feeling sure of himself, he
determined to start on his perilous undertaking. No one with the
exception of M. Bleriot and the mechanics were present at the Buc
aerodrome, near Versailles, when Mr. Hucks had his monoplane
brought out with the intention of looping the loop.
He quickly rose to a height of 1500 feet, and then, slowly
dipping the nose of his machine, turned right over. For fully
half a minute he flew underneath the monoplane, and then
gradually brought it round to the normal position.
In the afternoon he continued his experiments, but this time at a
height of nearly 3000 feet. At this altitude he was flying quite
steadily, when suddenly he assumed a perpendicular position, and
made a dive of about 600 feet. The horrified spectators thought
that the gallant aviator had lost control of his machine and was
dashing straight to Earth, but quickly he changed his direction
and slowly planed upwards. Then almost as suddenly he turned a
complete somersault. Righting the aeroplane, he rose in a
succession of spiral flights to a height of between 3000 and 3500
feet, and then looped the loop twice in quick succession.
On coming to earth M. Bleriot heartily congratulated the brave
Englishman. Mr. Hucks admitted a little nervousness before
looping the loop; but, as he remarked: "Once I started to go
round my nervousness vanished, and then I knew I was coming out
on top. It is all a question of keeping control of your nerves,
and Pegoud deserved all the credit, for he was the first to risk
his life in flying head downwards."
Mr. Hucks intended to be the first Englishman to fly upside down
in England, but he was forestalled by one of our youngest airmen,
Mr. George Lee Temple. On account of his youth--Mr. Temple was
only twenty-one at the time when he first flew upside-down--he
was known as the "baby airman", but there was probably no more
plucky airman in the world.
There were special difficulties which Mr. Temple had to overcome
that did not exist in the experiments of M. Pegoud or Mr. Hucks.
To start with, his machine--a 50-horse-power Bleriot
monoplane--was said by the makers to be unsuitable for the
performance. Then he could get no assistance from the big
aeroplane firms, who sought to dissuade him from his hazardous
undertaking. Experienced aviators wisely shook their heads and
told the "baby airman" that he should have more practice before
he took such a risk.
But notwithstanding this lack of encouragement he practised hard
for a few days by hanging in an inverted position. Meanwhile his
mechanics were working night and day in strengthening the wings
of the monoplane, and fitting it with a slightly larger elevator.
On 24th November, 1913, he decided to "try his luck" at the
London aerodrome. He was harnessed into his seat, and, bidding
his friends farewell, with the words "wish me luck", he went
aloft. For nearly half an hour he climbed upward, and swooped
over the aerodrome in wide circles, while his friends far below
were watching every action of his machine.
Suddenly an alarming incident occurred. When about a mile high
in the air the machine tipped downwards and rushed towards Earth
at terrific speed. Then the tail of the machine came up, and the
"baby airman" was hanging head downwards.
But at this point the group of airmen standing in the aerodrome
were filled with alarm, for it was quite evident to their
experienced eyes that the monoplane was not under proper control.
Indeed, it was actually side-slipping, and a terrible disaster
appeared imminent. For hundreds of feet the young pilot, still
hanging head downwards, was crashing to Earth, but when down to
about 1200 feet from the ground the machine gradually came round,
and Mr. Temple descended safely to Earth.
The airman afterwards told his friends that for several seconds
he could not get the machine to answer the controls, and for a
time he was falling at a speed of 100 miles an hour. In ordinary
circumstances he thought that a dive of 500 feet after the
upside-down stretch should get him the right way up, but it
really took him nearly 1500 feet. Fortunately, however, he
commenced the dive at a great altitude, and so the distance
side-slipped did not much matter.
It is sad to relate that Mr. Temple lost his life in January,
1914, while flying at Hendon in a treacherous wind. The actual
cause of the accident was never clearly understood. He had not
fully recovered from an attack of influenza, and it was thought
that he fainted and fell over the control lever while descending
near one of the pylons, when the machine "turned turtle", and the
pilot's neck was broken.
CHAPTER XLV
Accidents and their Cause
"Another airman killed!" "There'll soon be none of those flying
fellows left!" "Far too risky a game!" "Ought to be stopped by
law!"
How many times have we heard these, and similar remarks, when the
newspapers relate the account of some fatality in the air!
People have come to think that flying is a terribly risky
occupation, and that if one wishes to put an end to one's life
one has only to go up in a flying machine. For the last twenty
years some of our great writers have prophesied that the conquest
of the air would be as costly in human life as was that of the
sea, but their prophecies have most certainly been wrong, for in
the wreck of one single vessel, such as that of the Titanic, more
lives were lost than in all the disasters to any form of aerial
craft.
Perhaps some of our grandfathers can remember the dread with
which many nervous people entered, or saw their friends enter, a
train. Travellers by the railway eighty or ninety years ago
considered that they took their lives in their hands, so to
speak, when they went on a long journey, and a great sigh of
relief arose in the members of their families when the news came
that the journey was safely ended. In George Stephenson's days
there was considerable opposition to the institution of the
railway, simply on account of the number of accidents which it
was anticipated would take place.
Now we laugh at the fears of our great-grandparents; is it not
probable that our grandchildren will laugh in a similar manner at
our timidity over the aeroplane?
In the case of all recent new inventions in methods of locomotion
there has always been a feeling among certain people that the law
ought to prohibit such inventions from being put into practice.
There used to be bitter opposition to the motor-car, and at first
every mechanically-driven vehicle had to have a man walking in
front with a red flag.
There are risks in all means of transit; indeed, it may be said
that the world is a dangerous place to live in. It is true, too,
that the demons of the air have taken their toll of life from the
young, ambitious, and daring souls. Many of the fatal accidents
have been due to defective work in some part of the machinery,
some to want of that complete knowledge and control that only
experience can give, some even to want of proper care on the part
of the pilot. If a pilot takes ordinary care in controlling his
machine, and if the mechanics who have built the machine have
done their work thoroughly, flying, nowadays, should be
practically as safe as motoring.
The French Aero Club find, from a mass or information which has
been compiled for them with great care, that for every 92,000
miles actually flown by aeroplane during the year 1912, only one
fatal accident had occurred. This, too, in France, where some of
the pilots have been notoriously reckless, and where far more
airmen have been killed than in Britain.
When we examine carefully the statistics dealing with fatal
accidents in aeroplanes we find that the pioneers of flying, such
as the famous Wright Brothers, Bleriot, Farman, Grahame-White,
and so on, were comparatively free from accidents. No doubt, in
some cases, defective machines or treacherous wind gusts caused
the craft to collapse in mid-air. But, as a rule, the first men
to fly were careful to see that every part of the machine was in
order before going up in it, so that they rarely came to grief
through the planes not being sufficiently tightened up, wires
being unduly strained, spars snapping, or bolts becoming loose.
Mr. Grahame-White admirably expresses this when he says: "It is
a melancholy reflection, when one is going through the lists
of aeroplane fatalities, to think how many might have been
avoided. Really the crux of the situation in this connection, as
it appears to me, is this: the first men who flew, having had all
the drudgery and danger of pioneer work, were extremely careful
in all they did; and this fact accounts for the comparatively
large proportion of these very first airmen who have survived.
"But the men who came next in the path of progress, having a
machine ready-made, so to speak, and having nothing to do but to
get into it and fly, did not, in many cases, exercise this saving
grace of caution. And that--at least in my view--is why a good
many of what one may call the second flight of pilots came to
grief."
CHAPTER XLVI
Accidents and their Cause (Cont.)
One of the main causes of aeroplane accidents has been the
breakage of some part of the machine while in the air, due to
defective work in its construction. There is no doubt that
air-craft are far more trustworthy now than they were two or
three years ago. Builders have learned from the mistakes of
their predecessors as well as profited by their own. After
every serious accident there is an official enquiry as to the
probable cause of the accident, and information of inestimable
value has been obtained from such enquiries.
The Royal Aero Club of Great Britain has a special "Accidents
Investigation Committee" whose duty it is to issue a full report
on every fatal accident which occurs to an aeroplane in this
country. As a rule, representatives of the committee visit the
scene of the accident as soon as possible after its occurrence.
Eye-witnesses are called before them to give evidence of the
disaster; the remains of the craft are carefully inspected in
order to discover any flaw in its construction; evidence is taken
as to the nature and velocity of the wind on the day of the
accident, the approximate height at which the aviator was flying,
and, in fact, everything of value that might bear on the cause of
the accident.
As a good example of an official report we may quote that issued
by the Accidents Investigation Committee of the Royal Aero Club
on the fatal accident which occurred to Colonel Cody and his
passenger on 7th August, 1913.
"The representatives of the Accidents Committee visited the scene
of the accident within a few hours of its occurrence, and made a
careful examination of the wrecked air-craft. Evidence was also
taken from the eye-witnesses of the accident.
"From the consideration of the evidence the Committee regards the
following facts as clearly established:
"1. The air-craft was built at Farnborough, by Mr. S. F. Cody, in
July, 1913.
"2. It was a new type, designed for the Daily Mail Hydroplane
Race round Great Britain, but at the time of the accident had a
land chassis instead of floats.
"3. The wind at the time of the accident was about 10 miles per
hour.
"4. At about 200 feet from the ground the air-craft buckled up
and fell to the ground. A large piece of the lower left wing,
composing the whole of the front spar between the fuselage and
the first upright, was picked up at least 100 yards from the spot
where the air-craft struck the ground.
"5. The fall of the air-craft was broken considerably by the
trees, to such an extent that the portion of the fuselage
surrounding the seats was practically undamaged.
"6. Neither the pilot nor passenger was strapped in.
"0pinion. The Committee is of opinion that the failure of the
air-craft was due to inherent structural weakness.
"Since that portion of the air-craft in which the pilot and
passenger were seated was undamaged, it is conceivable their
lives might have been saved had they been strapped in."
This occasion was not the only time when the Accidents
Investigation Committee recommended the advisability of the
airman being strapped to his seat. But many airmen absolutely
refuse to wear a belt, just as many cyclists cannot bear to have
their feet made fast to the pedals of their cycles by using
toe-clips.
Mention of toe-clips brings us to other accidents which sometimes
befall airmen. As we have seen in a previous chapter, Mr.
Hawker's accident in Ireland was due to his foot slipping over
the rudder bar of his machine. It is thought that the disaster
to Mr. Pickles' machine on "Aerial Derby" day in 1913 was due to
the same cause, and on one occasion Mr. Brock was in great danger
through his foot slipping on the rudder bar while he was
practising some evolutions at the London Aerodome. Machines are
generally flying at a very fast rate, and if the pilot loses
control of the machine when it is near the ground the chances are
that the aeroplane crashes to earth before he can right it. Both
Mr. Hawker and Mr. Pickles were flying low at the time of their
accidents, and so their machines were smashed; fortunately Mr.
Brock was comparatively high up in the air, and though his
machine rocked about and banked in an ominous manner, yet he was
able to gain control just in the nick of time.
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