The Mastery of the Air
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William J. Claxton >> The Mastery of the Air
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To prevent accidents of this kind the rudder bars could be fitted
with pedals to which the pilot's feet could be secured by
toe-clips, as on bicycle pedals. Indeed, some makers of
air-craft have already provided pedals with toe-clips for the
rudder bar. Probably some safety device such as this will soon
be made compulsory on all machines.
We have already remarked that certain pilots do not pay
sufficient heed to the inspection of their machines before making
a flight. The difference between pilots in this respect is
interesting to observe. On the great day at Hendon, in 1913--the
Aerial Derby day--there were over a dozen pilots out with their
craft.
From the enclosure one could watch the airmen and their mechanics
as the machines were run out from the hangars on to the flying
ground. One pilot walked beside his mechanics while they were
running the machine to the starting place, and watched his craft
with almost fatherly interest. Before climbing into his seat he
would carefully inspect the spars, bolts, wires, controls, and so
on; then he would adjust his helmet and fasten himself into his
seat with a safety belt.
"Surely with all that preliminary work he is ready to start,"
remarked one of the spectators standing by. But no! the engine
must be run at varying speeds, while the mechanics hold back the
machine. This operation alone took three or four minutes, and
all that the pilot proposed to do was to circle the aerodrome two
or three times. An onlooker asked a mechanic if there were
anything wrong with that particular machine. "No!" was the
reply; "but our governor's very faddy, you know!"
And now for the other extreme! Three mechanics emerged from a
hangar pushing a rather ungainly-looking biplane, which bumped
over the uneven ground. The pilot was some distance behind, with
cigarette in mouth, joking with two or three friends. When the
machine was run out into the open ground he skipped quickly up to
it, climbed into the seat, started the engine, waved a smiling
"good-bye", and was off. For all he knew, that rather rough
jolting of the craft while it was being removed from the hangar
might have broken some wire on which the safety of his machine,
and his life, depended. The excuse cannot be made that his
mechanics had performed this all-important work of inspection,
for their attention was centred on the daring "banking "
evolutions of some audacious pilot in the aerodrome.
Mr. C. G. Grey, the well-known writer on aviation matters, and
the editor of The Aeroplane, says, with regard to the need of
inspection of air-craft:--
"A pilot is simply asking for trouble if he does not go all over
his machine himself at least once a day, and, if possible, every
time he is starting for a flight.
"One seldom hears, in these days, of a broken wheel or axle on a
railway coach, yet at the chief stopping places on our railways a
man goes round each train as it comes in, tapping the tires with
a hammer to detect cracks, feeling the hubs to see if there is
any sign of a hot box, and looking into the grease containers to
see if there is a proper supply of lubricant. There ought to be
a similar inspection of every aeroplane every time it touches the
ground. The jar of even the best of landings may fracture a bolt
holding a wire, so that when the machine goes up again the wire
may fly back and break the propeller, or get tangled in the
control wires, or a strut or socket may crack in landing, and
many other things may happen which careful inspection would
disclose before any harm could occur. Mechanics who inspected
machines regularly would be able to go all over them in a few
minutes, and no time would be wasted. As it is, at any aerodrome
one sees a machine come down, the pilot and passenger (a fare or
a pupil) climb out, the mechanics hang round and smoke
cigarettes, unless they have to perform the arduous duties of
filling up with petrol. In due course another passenger and a
pilot climb in, a mechanic swings the propeller, and away they go
quite happily. If anything casts loose they come down--and it is
truly wonderful how many things can come loose or break in the
air without anyone being killed. If some thing breaks in
landing, and does not actually fall out of place, it is simply a
matter of luck whether anyone happens to see it or not."
This advice, coming from a man with such wide experience of the
theory and practice of flying, should surely be heeded by all
those who engage in deadly combat with the demons of the air. In
the early days of aviation, pilots were unacquainted with the
nature and method of approach of treacherous wind gusts; often
when they were flying along in a steady, regular wind, one of
these gusts would strike their craft on one side, and either
overturn it or cause it to over-bank, so that it crashed to earth
with a swift side-slip through the air.
Happily the experience of those days, though purchased at the
cost of many lives, has taught makers of air-craft to design
their machines on more trustworthy lines. Pilots, too, have made
a scientific study of air eddies, gusts, and so on, and the
danger of flying in a strong or gusty wind is comparatively
small.
CHAPTER XLVII
Accidents and their Cause (Cont.)
Many people still think that if the engine of an aeroplane should
stop while the machine was in mid-air, a terrible disaster would
happen. All petrol engines may be described as fickle in their
behaviour, and so complicated is their structure that the best of
them are given to stopping without any warning. Aeroplane
engines are far superior in horse-power to those fitted to
motorcars, and consequently their structure is more intricate.
But if an airman's engine suddenly stopped there would be no
reason whatever why he should tumble down head first and break
his neck. Strange to say, too, the higher he was flying the
safer he would be.
All machines have what is called a GLIDING ANGLE. When the
designer plans his machine he considers the distribution of the
weight or the engine, pilot and passengers, of the petrol,
aeronautical instruments, and planes, so that the aeroplane is
built in such a manner that when the engine stops, and the nose
of the machine is turned downwards, the aeroplane of its own
accord takes up its gliding angle and glides to earth.
Gliding angles vary in different machines. If the angle is one
in twelve, this would mean that if the glide wave commenced at a
height of 1 mile, and continued in a straight line, the pilot
would come to earth 12 miles distant. We are all familiar with
the gradients shown on railways. There we see displayed on short
sign-posts such notices as "1 in 50", with the opposite arms of
the post pointing upwards and downwards. This, of course, means
that the slope of the railway at that particular place is 1 foot
in a distance of 50 feet.
One in twelve may be described as the natural gradient which the
machine automatically makes when engine power is cut off. It
will be evident why it is safer for a pilot to fly, say, at four
or five thousand feet high than just over the tree-tops or the
chimney-pots of towns. Suppose, for example, the machine has a
gliding angle of one in twelve, and that when at an altitude of
about a mile the engine should stop. We will assume that at the
time of the stoppage the pilot is over a forest where it is quite
impossible to land. Directly the engine stopped he would change
the angle of the elevating plane, so that the aeroplane would
naturally fall into its gliding angle. The craft would at once
settle itself into a forward and slightly downward glide; and the
airman, from his point of vantage, would be able to see the
extent of the forest. We will assume that the aeroplane is
gliding in a northerly direction, and that the country is almost
as unfavourable for landing there as over the forest itself. In
fact, we will imagine an extreme case, where the airman is over
country quite unsuitable for landing except toward the south;
that is, exactly opposite to the direction in which he starts to
glide. Fortunately, there is no reason why he should not steer
his machine right round in the air, even though the only power is
that derived from the force of gravity. His descent would be in
an immense slope, extending 10 or 12 miles from the place where
the engine stopped working. He would therefore be able to choose
a suitable landing-place and reach earth quite safely.
But supposing the airman to be flying about a hundred yards above
the forest-an occurrence not likely to happen with a skilled
airman, who would probably take an altitude of nearly a mile.
Almost before he could have time to alter his elevating plane,
and certainly long before he could reach open ground, he would be
on the tree-tops.
It is thought that in the near future air-craft will, be fitted
with two or more motors, so that when one fails the other will
keep the machine on its course. This has been found necessary in
Zeppelin air-ships. In an early Zeppelin model, which was
provided with one engine only, the insufficient power caused the
pilot to descend on unfavourable ground, and his vessel was
wrecked. More recent types of Zeppelins are fitted with three or
four engines. Experiments have already been made with the
dual-engine plant for aeroplanes, notably by Messrs. Short
Brothers, of Rochester, and the tests have given every
satisfaction.
There is little doubt that if the large passenger aeroplane is
made possible, and if parliamentary powers have to be obtained
for the formation of companies for passenger traffic by
aeroplane, it will be made compulsory to fit machines with two or
more engines, driving three or four distinct propellers. One of
the engines would possibly be of inferior power, and used only in
cases of emergency.
Still another cause of accident, which in some cases has proved
fatal, is the taking of unnecessary risks when in the air. This
has happened more in America and in France than in Great Britain.
An airman may have performed a very difficult and daring feat at
some flying exhibition and the papers belauded his courage. A
rival airman, not wishing to be outdone in skill or courage,
immediately tries either to repeat the performance or to perform
an even more difficult evolution. The result may very well end
in disaster, and
FAMOUS AIRMAN KILLED
is seen on most of the newspaper bills.
The daring of some of our professional airmen is notorious.
There is one particular pilot, whose name is frequently before
us, whom I have in mind when writing this chapter. On several
occasions I have seen him flying over densely-packed crowds, at a
height of about two hundred feet or so. With out the slightest
warning he would make a very sharp and almost vertical dive. The
spectators, thinking that something very serious had happened,
would scatter in all directions, only to see the pilot right his
machine and jokingly wave his hand to them. One trembles to
think what would have been the result if the machine had crashed
to earth, as it might very easily have done. It is interesting
to relate that the risks taken by this pilot, both with regard to
the spectators and himself, formed the subject of comment, and,
for the future, flying over the spectators' heads has been
strictly forbidden.
From 1909 to 1913 about 130 airmen lost their lives in Germany,
France, America, and the British Isles, and of this number the
British loss was between thirty and forty. Strange to say,
nearly all the German fatalities have taken place in air-ships,
which were for some years considered much safer than the
heavier-than-air machine.
CHAPTER XLVIII
Some Technical Terms used by Aviators
Though this book cannot pretend to go deeply into the technical
side of aviation, there are certain terms and expressions in
everyday use by aviators that it is well to know and understand.
First, as to the machines themselves. You are now able to
distinguish a monoplane from a biplane, and you have been told
the difference between a TRACTOR biplane and a PROPELLER biplane.
In the former type the screw is in front of the pilot; in the
latter it is to the rear of the pilot's seat.
Reference has been previously made to the FUSELAGE, SKIDS,
AILERONS, WARPING CONTROLS, ELEVATING PLANES, and RUDDER of the
various forms of air-craft. We have also spoken of the GLIDING
ANGLE of a machine. Frequently a pilot makes his machine dive at
a much steeper gradient than is given by its natural gliding
angle. When the fall is about one in six the glide is known as a
VOL PLANE; if the descent is made almost vertically it is called
a VOL PIQUE.
In some cases a PANCAKE descent is made. This is caused by such a
decrease of speed that the aeroplane, though still moving
forward, begins to drop downwards. When the pilot finds that
this is taking place, he points the nose of his machine at a much
steeper angle, and so reaches his normal flying speed, and is
able to effect a safe landing. If he were too near the earth he
would not be able to make this sharp dive, and the probability is
that the aeroplane would come down flat, with the possibility of
a damaged chassis. It is considered faulty piloting to make a
pancake descent where there is ample landing space; in certain
restricted areas, however, it is quite necessary to land in this
way.
A far more dangerous occurrence is the SIDE-SLIP. Watch a pilot
vol-planing to earth from a great height with his engine shut
off. The propeller rotates in an irregular manner, sometimes
stopping altogether. When this happens, the skilful pilot forces
the nose of his machine down, and so regains his normal flying
speed; but if he allowed the propeller to stop and at the same
time his forward speed through the air to be considerably
diminished, his machine would probably slip sideways through
the air and crash to earth. In many cases side-slips have taken
place at aerodromes when the pilot has been rounding a pylon with
the nose of his machine pointing upwards.
When a machine flies round a corner very quickly the pilot tilts
it to one side. Such action as this is known as BANKING. This
operation can be witnessed at any aerodrome when speed handicaps
are taking place.
Since upside-down flying came into vogue we have heard a great
deal about NOSE DIVING. This is a headlong dive towards earth
with the nose of the machine pointing vertically downwards. As a
rule the pilot makes a sharp nose dive before he loops the loop.
Sometimes an aeroplane enters a tract of air where there seems to
be no supporting power for the planes; in short, there appears to
be, as it were, a HOLE in the air. Scientifically there is no
such thing as a hole in the air, but airmen are more concerned
with practice than with theory, and they have, for their own
purposes, designated this curious phenomenon an AIR POCKET. In
the early days of aviation, when machines were far less stable
and pilots more quickly lost control of their craft, the air
pocket was greatly dreaded, but nowadays little notice is taken
of it.
A violent disturbance in the air is known as a REMOUS. This is
somewhat similar to an eddy in a stream, and it has the effect of
making the machine fly very unsteadily. Remous are probably
caused by electrical disturbances of the atmosphere, which cause
the air streams to meet and mingle, breaking up into filaments
or banding rills of air. The wind--that is, air in motion--far
from being of approximate uniformity, is, under most ordinary
conditions, irregular almost beyond conception, and it is
with such great irregularities in the force of the air streams
that airmen have constantly to contend.
CHAPTER XLIX
The Future in the Air
Three years before the outbreak of the Great War, the
Master-General of Ordnance, who was in charge of Aeronautics at
the War Office, declared: "We are not yet convinced that either
aeroplanes or air-ships will be of any utility in war".
After four years of war, with its ceaseless struggle between the
Allies and the Central Powers for supremacy in the air, such a
statement makes us rub our eyes as though we had been dreaming.
Seven years--and in its passage the air encircling the globe has
become one gigantic battle area, the British Isles have lost the
age-long security which the seas gave them, and to regain the old
proud unassailable position must build a gigantic aerial fleet--
as greatly superior to that of their neighbours as was, and is,
the British Navy.
Seven years--and the monoplane is on the scrap-heap; the Zeppelin
has come as a giant destroyer--and gone, flying rather
ridiculously before the onslaughts of its tiny foes. In a
recent article the editor of The Aeroplane referred to the
erstwhile terror of the air as follows: "The best of air-ships
is at the mercy of a second-rate aeroplane". Enough to make
Count Zeppelin turn in his grave!
To-day in aerial warfare the air-ship is relegated to the task of
observer. As the "Blimp", the kite-balloon, the coast patrol,
it scouts and takes copious notes; but it leaves the fighting to
a tiny, heavier-than-air machine armed with a Lewis gun, and
destructive attacks to those big bomb-droppers, the British
Handley Page, the German Gotha, the Italian Morane tri-plane.
The war in the air has been fought with varying fortunes. But,
looking back upon four years of war, we may say that, in spite of
a slow start, we have managed to catch up our adversaries, and of
late we have certainly dealt as hard knocks as we have received.
A great spurt of aerial activity marked the opening of the year
1918. From all quarters of the globe came reports, moderate and
almost bald in style, but between the lines of which the average
man could read word-pictures of the skill, prowess, and ceaseless
bravery of the men of the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Naval Air
Service. Recently there have appeared two official publications
[1], profusely illustrated with photographs, which give an
excellent idea of the work and training of members of the two
corps. Forewords have been contributed respectively by Lord Hugh
Cecil and Sir Eric Geddes, First Lord of the Admiralty. These
publications lift a curtain upon not only the activities of the
two Corps, but the tremendous organization now demanded by war in
the air.
[1] The Work and Training of the Royal Flying Corps and The Work
and Training of the Royal Naval Air Service.
All this to-day. To-morrow the Handley Page and Gotha may be
occupying their respective niches in the museum of aerial
antiquities, and we may be all agog over the aerial passenger
service to the United States of America.
For truly, in the science of aviation a day is a generation, and
three months an eon. When the coming of peace turns men's
thoughts to the development of aeroplanes for commerce and
pleasure voyages, no one can foretell what the future may bring
forth.
At the time of writing, air attacks are still being directed upon
London. But the enemy find it more and more difficult to
penetrate the barrage. Sometimes a solitary machine gets
through. Frequently the whole squadron of raiding aeroplanes is
turned back at the coast.
As for the military advantage the Germans have derived, after
nearly four years of attacks by air, it may be set down as
practically nil. In raid after raid they missed their so-called
objectives and succeeded only in killing noncombatants. Far
different were the aim and scope of the British air offensives
into Germany and into country occupied by German troops. Railway
junctions, ammunition dumps, enemy billets, submarine bases,
aerodromes--these were the targets for our airmen, who scored
hits by the simple but dangerous plan of flying so low that
misses were almost out of the question.
"Make sure of your objective, even if you have to sit upon it."
Thus is summed up, in popular parlance, the policy of the Royal
Flying Corps and Royal Naval Air Service. And if justification
were heeded of this strict limitation of aim, it will be found in
the substantial military losses inflicted upon the enemy results
which would never have been attained had our airmen dissipated
their energies on non-military objectives for the purpose of
inspiring terror in the civil population.
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