CHAPTER XV

THE TRANSATLANTIC FLIGHT

THE NC’S—THE LOSS OF THE C-5—READ’S STORY—BELLINGER’S STORY—THE GREAT NAVAL FLIGHT—HAWKER’S STORY—ALCOCK’S STORY—THE R-34

Ever since the Wright brothers demonstrated that a heavier-than-air machine could rise from the ground with its own power and carry a man aloft through the air, aeronautical engineers have been ambitious to build an aircraft that would fly across the Atlantic Ocean from the Old World to the New, or from the New World to the Old. Exactly one hundred years to the very month after the first steam-driven vessel crossed the Atlantic, from Savannah, Georgia, to England, NC-4, U. S. naval flying-boat, flew from Rockaway, Long Island, via Halifax, Trepassey Bay, Newfoundland, Azores, Lisbon, Portugal, Ferrol, Spain, to Plymouth, England; and on June 13 the “Vimy”-Bomber, built by the Vickers, Limited, England, made a non-stop flight from St. John’s, Newfoundland, to Clifden, Galway, Ireland; and on July 2 the R-34, the British rigid dirigible, flew from East Fortune, near Edinburgh, Scotland, via Newfoundland to Mineola, Long Island, in 108 hours and 12 minutes; and it made the return trip to Pulham, Norfolk, England, in 75 hours and 3 minutes. The NC-4 flew from Trepassey Bay to Plymouth in 59 hours and 56 minutes, and the Vickers Bomber made its flight in 16 hours and 12 minutes. The distance of the first flight from Trepassey Bay to Plymouth was about 2,700 miles; the distance of the one taken by the Vickers was 1,950 miles. The distance covered by the R-34 was 3,200 miles each way.

On May 16, 1919, three U. S. naval seaplanes, the NC-1, NC-3, and NC-4, set out to fly from Trepassey Bay, Newfoundland, to the Azores. The NC-4 alighted at Horta the next day. The NC-1, under command of Lieutenant-Commander Bellinger, did not quite complete the flight owing to fog, and after the crew was rescued by a destroyer, had to be towed into Horta, where it sank. The NC-3, with Commander Towers, was lost for 48 hours in the fog, but finally taxied to Ponta Delgada on its own power. Owing to the damaged condition of the boat, it could proceed no farther. On May 16 Commander Read flew the NC-4 to Ponta Delgada; on May 27 from there to Lisbon; on May 30 to Ferrol, Spain; and on May 31, to Plymouth, England, thus completing the transatlantic flight in 46 flying hours.

On May 18 Harry Hawker and Mackenzie Grieve flew from St. John’s in a single-motored Sopwith, and after 15 hours in the air had to alight on the ocean, 1,000 miles east of where they started and 900 miles from their goal.

On June 14 Captain John Alcock and Lieutenant Arthur W. Brown, in a bimotored Vickers aeroplane, flew from St. John’s, Newfoundland, to Galway, Ireland, without stopping, through fog and sleet and rain, in 16 hours and 12 minutes.

PREVIOUS ATTEMPTS TO FLY ACROSS THE ATLANTIC

The first actual attempt to fly across the North Atlantic from America to England was made by Walter Wellman, in 1910, when he set sail in the rigid dirigible _America_ from Atlantic City. The engines were not strong enough to force the huge gas-bag against the breeze, and it was blown out of its course and came down in the sea, 1,000 miles off Cape Hatteras, where the balloon was abandoned and the crew was picked up.

During a test flight of a second dirigible called the _Akron_, on July 2, 1912, Mr. Melvin Vaniman and four of his crew were killed by an explosion of the hydrogen gas with which the gas-bag was inflated.

In 1894 Glenn L. Curtiss, through the generosity of Mr. Rodman Wanamaker, constructed a flying-boat, in which Captain Porte was to fly across the Atlantic. The seaplane was completed and tests were being made when the war broke out, and the enterprise had to be abandoned. Nevertheless, the seaplane did go to England, but in the hull of another boat. There it performed excellent service for the British Government hunting Hun submarines.

As soon as the armistice was signed, France, England, and the United States began to lay plans to use some of the airships designed for war for the purpose of flying across the Atlantic. Captain Coli, who flew from France across the Mediterranean, started from Paris to fly to Dakar on the extreme point of Cape Verde, and from there across the South Atlantic to Pernambuco, Brazil. Owing to engine trouble, he did not reach Dakar.

THE NC’S

The giant navy flying-boats built for the transatlantic flight were not only of extraordinary size but of unusual construction, and represent a wholly original American development. The design was conceived in the fall of 1917 by Rear-Admiral D. W. Taylor, Chief Constructor of the Navy, who had in mind the development of a seaplane of the maximum size, radius of action, and weight-carrying ability, for use in putting down the submarine menace. Had the German submarines gained the upper hand in 1918, the war would still be going on, and these great flying-boats would be produced in quantity and flown across the Atlantic to the centres of submarine activity.

The first of the type was completed and given her trials in October, 1918, and since that time three more have been completed.

The flying-boats were designated NC, the N for navy, and C for Curtiss, indicating the joint production of the navy and the Curtiss Engineering Corporation. Being designed for war service, the boats are not at all freak machines put together to perform the single feat of a record-breaking flight, but are roomy and comfortable craft, designed and built in accordance with standard navy practice. The NC-1 has been in service seven months, and received rough handling when new pilots for the other NC boats were trained on her, but is still in good condition.

The term flying-boat is used for the NC type because it is actually a stout seaworthy boat, that ploughs through rough water up to a speed of 60 miles per hour, and then takes to the air and flies at a speed of over 90 miles per hour.

The hull or boat proper is 45 feet long by 10 feet beam. The bottom is a double plank Vee, with a single step somewhat similar in form to the standard navy pontoon for smaller seaplanes. Five bulkheads divide the hull into six water-tight compartments with water-tight doors in a wing passage for access. The forward compartment has a cockpit for the lookout and navigator. In the next compartment are seated side by side the principal pilot or aviator and his assistant. Next comes a compartment for the members of the crew off watch to rest or sleep. After this there are two compartments containing the gasoline-tanks (where a mechanician is in attendance) and finally a space for the radio man and his apparatus. The minimum crew consists of five men, but normally a relief crew could be carried in addition. To guarantee water-tightness and yet keep the planking thin, there is a layer of muslin set in marine glue between the two plies of planking.

The wings have a total area of 2,380 square feet. The ribs of the wing are 12 feet long, but only weigh 26 ounces each.

The tail in this craft is unique and resembles no other flying machine or animal. The tail surface is made up as a biplane, which is of the general appearance and size of the usual aeroplane. Indeed, this tail of over 500 square feet area is twice as large as the single-seater fighting-aeroplanes used by the army.

ENGINES

The four Liberty engines which drive the boat are mounted between the wings. At 400 brake horse-power per engine, the maximum power is 1,600 horse-power, or with the full load of 28,000 pounds, 17.5 pounds carried per horse-power. One engine is mounted with a tractor propeller on each side of the centre line, and on the centre line the two remaining engines are mounted in tandem, or one behind the other. The front engine has a tractor propeller, and the rear engine a pusher propeller. This arrangement of engines is novel, and has the advantage of concentrating weights near the centre of the boat so that it can be manœuvred more easily in the air.

CONTROLS

The steering and control in the air are arranged in principle exactly as in a small aeroplane, but it was not an easy problem to arrange that this 14-ton boat could be handled by one man of only normal strength. To insure easy operation, each control surface was carefully balanced in accordance with experiments made in a wind-tunnel on a model of it. The operating cables were run through ball-bearing pulleys, and all avoidable friction eliminated. Finally, the entire craft was so balanced that the centre of gravity of all weights came at the resultant centre of lift of all lifting surfaces, and the tail surfaces so adjusted that the machine would be inherently stable in flight. As a result, the boat will fly herself and will continue on her course without the constant attention of the pilot. However, if he wishes to change course, a slight pressure of his controls is enough to swing the boat promptly. There is provision, however, for an assistant to the pilot to relieve him in rough air if he becomes fatigued, or wishes to leave his post to move about the boat.

In the design of the metal fittings to reduce the amount of metal needed a special alloy steel of 150,000 pounds per square inch tensile strength was used. To increase bearing areas, bolts and pins are made of large diameter but hollow.

A feature that is new in this boat is the use of welded aluminum tanks for gasoline. There are nine 200-gallon tanks made of sheet aluminum with welded seams. Each tank weighs but 70 pounds, or .35 pounds per gallon of contents, about one-half the weight of the usual sheet-steel or copper tank.

Loaded, the machine weighs 28,000 pounds, and when empty, but including radiator, water, and fixed instruments and equipment, 15,874 pounds. The useful load available for crew, supplies, and fuel is, therefore, 12,126 pounds. This useful load may be put into fuel, freight, etc., in any proportion desired. For an endurance flight there would be a crew of 5 men (850 pounds), radio and radiotelephone (220 pounds), food and water, signal-lights, spare parts, and miscellaneous equipment (524 pounds), oil (750 pounds), gasoline, 9,650 pounds. This should suffice for a flight of 1,400 sea miles. The radio outfit is of sufficient power to communicate with ships 200 miles away. The radiotelephone would be used to talk to other planes in the formation or within 25 miles.

The principal dimensions and characteristics of the NC type may be summarized as follows:

Engines 4 Liberty Power 1,600 Wing span 126 upper—94 feet lower Length 68 feet 5½ inches Height 24 feet 5⅛ inches Weight, empty 15,874 lbs. Weight, loaded 28,000 lbs. Useful load 12,126 lbs. Gravity-tank 91 gals. capacity Fuel-tanks 1,800 gals. capacity Oil-tanks 160 gals. capacity

FIRST AERIAL STOWAWAY

In connection with the trials of NC-1, the first of the type completed, two significant happenings are recorded.

The first concerns the first aerial stowaway. At Rockaway Naval Air-Station arrangements were made to take 50 men for a flight to establish a world’s record; the 50 men were assembled, weighed, and carefully packed in the boat. The flight was successfully made, and upon return to the beach the officer-in-charge counted the men again as they came ashore. He was astonished to find there were 51. An investigation was made at once, which revealed the fact that a mechanic who had been working on the boat before the flight had hidden in the hull for over an hour before the actual departure in order to go on the flight. This man is, no doubt, the world’s first aerial stowaway.

RECORD OF THE FLIGHT

The NC-1, 3, and 4 left Rockaway at 10 A. M. on May 8 for Halifax. The NC-4, owing to engine trouble, had to land at sea near Chatham, Mass.; the other two continued on their way, and reached Halifax at 7.55 P. M. (6.55 New York time) on May 8; after waiting until the morning of May 10, the NC-1 and 3 left Halifax at 8.44 A. M. After travelling 38 miles, the NC-3 was forced to return to Halifax due to the cracking of a propeller. The NC-1 arrived at Trepassey Bay on May 10 at 3.41 P. M. The NC-3 arrived at 7.31 P. M.

After being refitted with a new engine the NC-4 left Chatham at 9.25 A. M., Wednesday, May 14, and arrived at Halifax at 2.05 P. M. It left there on Thursday, May 15, at 9.52 A. M., and arrived at Trepassey Bay at 6.37 P. M. (New York time 5.37 P. M.).

On the morning of Friday, May 16, the three flying-boats left Trepassey Bay at 6.05 P. M. It was a clear moonlight night, and as 21 United States destroyers were stationed along the route from North latitude 46-17 to 39-40, the airships were in communication with the fleet all the way over.

Because of a thick fog which obtained near the Azores the NC-4 landed at Horta of the eastern group at 9.20 A. M., just 13 hours and 18 minutes after starting. The NC-1 landed at sea and sank, and the NC-3, which flew out of its course, landed at Ponta Delgada.

TIME OF NC-4’S FLIGHT TO LISBON

The NC-4 in its flight from Trepassey to Lisbon covered a distance of 2,150 nautical miles in 26.47 hours’ actual flying time, or at an average speed of 80.3 nautical miles. The three seaplanes left Trepassey at sunset on May 16, and the NC-4 reached Lisbon soon after noon on May 27, the eleventh day after its “hop” from Newfoundland. Its record in detail is as follows:

Distance, Speed, Course Date Knots Time Knots

Rockaway-Chatham (forced landing about 100 miles off Chatham) May 8 300 5.45 52 Chatham-Halifax May 14 320 3.51 85 Halifax-Trepassey May 15 460 6.20 72.6 Trepassey-Horta May 16-17 1,200 15.18 78.4 Horta-Ponta Delgada May 20 150 1.45 86.7 Ponta Delgada-Lisbon May 27 800 9.44 82.1 Trepassey-Lisbon ... 2,150 26.47 80.3

The total flying time from Rockaway, N. Y., to Lisbon, Spain, was 42.43.

The fastest previous passage of the Atlantic was made by the giant Cunard liner _Mauretania_, which made the trip from Liverpool to New York in four days, 14 hours, and 27 minutes.

Here is the log of the last leg of the transatlantic flight, completed with the arrival of the NC-4 at Plymouth, based on wireless and cabled despatches received at the Navy Department.

1.21 A. M., from Plymouth: “NC-4 left Lisbon 6.23 (New York 2.23 A. M.), May 30, and landed Mondego River, getting underway and proceeding to Ferrol, where landed at 16.46 (12.46 New York time). Destroyers standing by NC-4; will proceed to Plymouth to-morrow if weather permits.”

6.50 A. M.—From Admiral Knapp at London: “From the Harding: ‘U. S. S. _Gridley_ to U. S. S. _Rochester_, NC-4 expects to leave Ferrol for Plymouth at 6 A. M. to-morrow morning, signed Read.’”

7.22 A. M.—From Admiral Knapp at London: “NC-4 left Ferrol at 06.27 (2.27 A. M. New York time).”

8.11 A. M.—From Admiral Knapp at London: “Following received from U. S. S. _George Washington_: ‘From U. S. S. _Stockton_, NC-4 passed station two at 07.43 (3.43 A. M. New York time).’”

9.24 A. M.—From Admiral Knapp at London: “NC-4 passed station four at 09.06 (5.06 New York time).”

9.50 A. M.—From Admiral Knapp: “NC-4 arrived at Plymouth at 14.26.31, English civil time (9.26 A. M. New York time).”

11.56 A. M.—From Admiral Knapp: “NC-4 passed Mengam at 12.13 local time.”

3.17 P. M.—From Admiral Plunkett, commander of destroyer force at Plymouth: “NC-4 arrived at Plymouth 13.24 (9.24 A. M. New York time) in perfect condition. Joint mission of seaplane division and destroyer force accomplished. Regret loss of NC-1 and damage to NC-3; nevertheless, information of utmost value gained thereby. Has department any further instructions?”

The members of the crews were:

NC-1—Commanding officer, Lieutenant-Commander P. N. L. Bellinger; pilots, Lieutenant-Commander M. A. Mitscher and Lieutenant L. T. Barin; radio operator, Lieutenant Harry Sadenwater; engineer, Chief Machinist’s Mate C. I. Kesler.

NC-3—Commanding officer, Commander John H. Towers; pilots, Commander H. C. Richardson and Lieutenant David H. McCullough; radio operator, Lieutenant-Commander R. A. Lavender; engineer, Machinist L. R. Moore.

NC-4—Commanding officer, Lieutenant-Commander A. C. Read; pilots, Lieutenants E. F. Stone and Walter Hinton; radio operator, Ensign H. C. Rodd; engineer, Chief Machinist’s Mate E. S. Rhodes.

THE LOSS OF C-5 NAVAL BLIMP

The C-5 naval dirigible, called “Blimp,” was 192 feet long, 43 feet wide, 46 feet high, and contained 180,000 cubic feet of hydrogen. It was driven by two 150 horse-power union aero engines.

It left Montauk Point early Wednesday morning, May 14, and was in the air continuously for 25 hours and 45 minutes.

It arrived at Halifax at 9.50 A. M., Thursday morning, New York time.

On Thursday afternoon the C-5 burst from her moorings in a gale and was swept to sea. Lieutenant Little was hurt in an attempt to pull the rip cord of the dirigible in order to deflate her. The cord broke, and he received a sprain when he jumped from the C-5 as she began to rise.

The C-5 arrived at the Pleasantville base, near St. John’s, after being in the air continuously for 25 hours and 40 minutes. A perfect landing was made within the narrow confines of the old cricket-field, which was chosen as the anchorage for the airship. Lieutenant J. V. Lawrence was at the wheel at the completion of the voyage, and the manner in which he handled the ship while the landing was being performed evoked a cheer of admiration from the crowd which had gathered.

As soon as she had been secured at her anchorage, a big force, under Lieutenant Little, was set to work preparing the ship for the transatlantic flight. It was not long before the treacherous wind began to play upon the dirigible, and early in the afternoon she was torn from her anchorage, but was recaptured and secured again.

Immediately after arrival, Lieutenant-Commander Coil and his crew got out of the car and prepared to take twelve hours’ sleep before continuing their flight across the Atlantic. Before turning in, however, he told the story of the trip to Newfoundland.

In it he gave all the credit to Lieutenant Campbell and Lieutenant J. V. Lawrence, both of whom, he said, were weary “and almost seasick,” but stuck to their posts. He also described the period of several hours during which the airship was “lost” over Newfoundland.

“We made a ‘landfall’ at St. Pierre,” he said, “but found ourselves on the west instead of the east shore of Placentia Bay. From this point we attempted to follow the Chicago’s radio directions, but they did not work. For the moment we were lost.

“We started ‘cross lots’ and saw about all of Newfoundland, and I must say that this is the doggonedest island to find anything on I ever struck. Eventually we hit the railroad track and followed it to Topsails, which we identified, and then continued on to St. John’s. There was considerable fog, but it did not trouble us.

“Throughout the time we were trying to find ourselves we had difficulty with our wireless set, and part of the time it was out of commission.

“Our troubles started just after midnight, when the sky became overcast. Before then we had been flying under a full moon at an altitude of 1,000 feet. We lost our bearings while approaching Little Miquelon Island, off the south coast of Newfoundland, about 170 miles from St. John’s.”

Commander Coil praised the work of the landing crew which moored the dirigible. Rear-Admiral Spencer S. Wood, commander of the aviation base, greeted the C-5’s commander.

The C-5 is 192 feet long, 43 feet wide, and 45 feet high; it has a capacity of 180,000 cubic feet. Cruising speed, 42 M. P. H.; climb, 1,000 feet per minute.

The car is of stream-line form, 40 feet long, 5 feet in maximum diameter, with steel tube outriggers carrying an engine at either side. Over-all width of riggers, 15 feet. Complete weight of car, 4,000 pounds.

Seven passengers may be carried, but the usual crew consists of four. At the front the coxswain is placed; his duty is to steer the machine from right to left. In the next compartment is the pilot, who operates the valves and controls the vertical movement of the ship, and aft of the pilot are the mechanicians controlling the engines. At the rear cockpit is the wireless operator.

LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER READ’S STORY OF TRANSATLANTIC FLIGHT

(_Reprinted from “New York World”_)

Horta, the Azores, May 18.—“The NC-3 left the water at Trepassey Bay at 10.03, Greenwich civil time, on the afternoon of May 16; the NC-4 at 10.05, and the NC-1 some time later. The Three and Four together left Mistaken Point on the course for the Azores at 10.16, and ten minutes later sighted the One, several miles to the rear, and flying higher.

“We were flying over icebergs, with the wind astern and the sea smooth. Our average altitude was 800 feet. The NC-4 drew ahead at 10.50, but when over the first destroyer made a circle to allow the NC-3 to catch up. We then flew on together until 11.55, when we lost sight of the NC-3, her running lights being too dim to be discerned.

“From then on we proceeded as if alone. Our engine was hitting finely, and the oil pressure and water temperature was right. It was very dark, but the stars were showing. At 12.19 on the morning of the 17th the May moon started to appear, and the welcome sight made us all feel more comfortable.

“As it grew lighter the air became bumpy, and we climbed to 1,800 feet, but the air remained bumpy most of the night.

“Each destroyer was sighted in turn, first being located by star-shells, which, in some cases, we saw forty miles away; then by the search-lights, and finally by the ships’ light. All were brilliantly illuminated. Some were apparently in the exact position designated. Others were some miles off the line, necessitating frequent changes of our course so that we might pass near.

“At 12.41, when we were passing No. 4 destroyer, we saw the lights of another plane to port. We kept the lights in sight for ten minutes. After that we saw no other plane for the remainder of our trip.

“So far, our average speed had been 90 knots, indicating that we had a 12-knot favorable wind. At 1.24 the wind became less favorable and we came down to 1,000 feet.

“At 5.45 we saw the first of the dawn. As it grew lighter all our worries appeared to have passed. The power-plant and everything else was running perfectly. The radio was working marvellously well. Messages were received from over 1,300 miles, and our radio officer sent a message to his mother in the States via Cape Race.

“Cape Race, then 730 miles away, reported that the NC-3’s radio was working poorly. The NC-3 was ahead of the NC-1, and astern of us, we learned by intercepted messages. Each destroyer reported our passing by radio.

“Sandwiches and coffee from the thermos bottles and chocolate candy tasted fine. No emergency rations were used. They require too great an emergency to be appreciated. I made several inspection trips aft and held discussions with the radio man and the engineer. Everything was all right.

“At 6.55 we passed over a merchant ship, and at 8 o’clock we saw our first indications of possible trouble, running through light lumps of fog. It cleared at 8.12, but at 9.27 we ran into more fog for a few minutes. At 9.45 the fog became thicker and then dense. The sun disappeared and we lost all sense of direction. The compass spinning indicated a steep bank, and I had visions of a possible nose dive.

“Then the sun appeared and the blue sky once more, and we regained an even keel and put the plane on a course above the fog, flying between the fog and an upper layer of clouds. We caught occasional glimpses of the water, so we climbed to 3,200 feet, occasionally changing the course and the altitude to dodge the clouds and fog.

“We sent out a radio at 10.38 and at 10.55 to the nearest destroyer, thinking the fog might have lifted. We received replies to both messages that there was thick fog near the water. At 11.10 we ran into light rain for a few minutes.

“At 11.13 we sent a radio to the destroyer and could hear Corvo reply that the visibility was ten miles. Encouraged by this promise of better conditions farther on, we kept going. Suddenly, at 11.27, we saw through a rift what appeared to be a tide-rip on the water. Two minutes later we saw the outline of rocks.

“The tide-rip was a line of surf along the southern end of Flores Island. It was the most welcome sight we had ever seen.

“We were 45 miles off our calculated position, indicating that the speed of the plane from the last destroyer sighted had been 85 knots. The wind was blowing us east and south.

“We glided near to the shore and rounded the point. Finding that the fog stopped 200 feet above the water, we shaped our course for the next destroyer, flying low, with a strong wind behind us. We sighted No. 22 in its proper place at 12 o’clock. This was the first destroyer we had seen since we passed No. 16.

“The visibility then was about 12 miles. We had plenty of gasoline and oil, and decided to keep on to Ponta Delgada. Then it got thick and we missed the next destroyer, No. 23. The fog closed down.

“We decided to keep to our course until 1.18, and then made a 90-degree turn to the right to pick up Fayal or Pico. Before this time, at 1.04, we sighted the northern end of Fayal, and once more felt safe.

“We headed for the shore, the air clearing when we neared the beach. We rounded the island and landed in a bight we had mistaken for Horta.

“At 1.17 we left the water and rounded the next point. Then we sighted the _Columbia_ through the fog and landed near her at 1.23.

“Our elapsed time was 15 hours and 18 minutes. Our average speed 81.7 knots. All personnel is in the best of condition. The plane requires slight repairs.

“The NC-1 is being towed to port here. Its personnel is on board the _Columbia_, all in fine shape.

“The Three has not yet been located, but will be. We will proceed to Ponta Delgada when the weather permits.”

Ponta Delgada, May 20.—“Exceptionally bad weather, which was totally unexpected, was the sole reason for the failure of all three of the American navy’s seaplanes to fly from Trepassey, Newfoundland, to Ponta Delgada on schedule time,” said Commander John H. Towers to the correspondent of the Associated Press to-night.

“Individually, the members of the crew of the NC-3 virtually gave up hope of being rescued Saturday night, but collectively they showed no signs of fear, and ‘carried on’ until they arrived in port here Monday and heard the forts firing salvoes in welcome, and witnessed the scenes of general jubilation over their escape from the sea.

“Having run short of fuel and encountered a heavy fog, the NC-3 came down at 1 o’clock Saturday afternoon in order that we might obtain our bearings. The plane was damaged as it reached the water, and was unable to again rise. While we were drifting the 205 miles in the heavy storm the high seas washed over or pounded the plane, and the boat began to leak. So fast did the water enter the boat that the members of the crew took turns in bailing the hull with a small hand-pump, while others stood on the wings in order to keep the plane in balance. Meanwhile we were steering landward.

“That our radio was out of commission was not known to the crew until our arrival here. Communication had been cut off since 9 o’clock Monday owing to our having lost our ground-wire.

“We ate chocolate and drank water from our radiator. This was our only means of subsistence. The crew smoked heavily in order to keep awake while we were drifting. No one of us obtained more than four hours’ sleep after leaving Trepassey until Ponta Delgada was reached.

“The hands of all the members of the crew of the NC-3 were badly swollen as a result of their heroic work at the pump; otherwise they did not undergo much suffering. The men have now fully recovered from their trying experience.

“The NC-3 encountered heavy clouds at 1 o’clock Saturday morning. The light instruments on board failed, and we sailed the plane above the clouds in order to get the benefit of a moonlight reading of the instruments.

“We kept in sight of the NC-4 until nearly daylight Saturday, and with the NC-1 until shortly after daylight. All the planes were flying in formation, but the NC-1 and NC-4 were underneath the clouds part of the time because their light instruments were good.

“The NC-3 had no difficulty in being guided by star-shells, search-lights, and smoke from the station ships until we reached Station 14, which was not seen.

“I assumed that we were off our course, but did not know on which side, and began flying a parallel course in what I thought was the direction of Corvo. Shortly after daylight we encountered a heavy fog, rain squalls, and high winds, all of which continued until the NC-3 went down upon the water.

“Before alighting on the surface of the sea my calculations showed us to be in the vicinity of land, but with only two hours’ fuel supply on hand and with the weather clearing it was decided to land and ascertain our exact position.

“Our radio kept up sending messages, assuming that the torpedo-boat destroyers were picking them up. We did not know the radio was useless and that the destroyers had not been receiving the messages.

“All the crew thought the sea would moderate, but the plane was so badly damaged in the high billows that we were unable to rise again.

“We were 60 miles southwest of Pico when we alighted, the position being where we had figured we were before coming down.

“The clearing of the weather proved only temporary, for later a storm came up and continued for 48 hours. With both lower wings wrecked, the pontoons lost, and the hull leaking, and the tail of the machine damaged, the plane was tossed about like a cork.

“In order to conserve the remaining 170 gallons of fuel we decided to ‘sail’ landward, hoping to sight a destroyer on the way. But we did not pass a single ship until we reached Ponta Delgada. Off the port we declined proffered aid by the destroyer _Harding_, which had been sent out to meet us, and ‘taxied’ into port under our own power.

“During the two days’ vigil of seeking land or rescue ships we fired all our distress signals, none of which apparently were seen.

“Without informing the crew of the fear that I had that we would be lost, I packed our log in a water-proof cover, tied it to a life-belt, and was prepared to cast it adrift when the NC-3 sank.

“The nervous strain was terrible while we were drifting, and the men smoked incessantly. This was the only thing that kept them awake.

“I believe a transatlantic flight is practicable without a stop with planes a little larger than the NC type. The engines of all three of the planes worked perfectly, and could have run 6,000 miles more if there had been sufficient fuel on board.

“Wire trouble in the instrument board was the mechanical defect experienced by the NC-3.”

COMMANDER BELLINGER’S STORY

(_From “New York World”_)

Horta, Azores, May 22.—“At 22.10 Greenwich time (6.10 P. M. New York time) the NC-1 left the water and took up her position in the formation astern of the NC-3 and NC-4, bound for the Azores, to land at Horta or Ponta Delgada, depending on the gasoline consumption.

“The NC-1 got away with difficulty due to the heavy load she carried. Finally, after a long run on the surface, she reached planing speed and hopped off. The Three and Four were far ahead. We could just make out the number ‘4’ in the distance. When night came we lost sight of the other plane entirely.

“No. 1 station ship we passed on the port hand. It made us feel good to see our solid friend below us, while we were passing over an array of icebergs which resembled gigantic tombstones. The course we followed took us over one iceberg just at dusk. Our altitude then was 1,000 feet, which gave us room and to spare.

“The other station ships, placed 50 miles apart, we passed in their regular order, some on one side and some on the other. We found that star-shells fired by the station ships at night were visible for a much greater distance than were the rays of the search-lights. On one occasion two ships were visible to us at the same time.

“The night was well on before the moon rose, and we wondered whether the sky would prove to be clear or overcast. Luckily it was a partially clear moon that rose bright and full, and though passing clouds sometimes obscured it, the sky could always be sufficiently defined to be of inestimable aid to the pilots controlling the plane.

“We flew along at an altitude of 1,200 feet, and got the air drift during the night from the dropping flares, sighting on them with the drift indicator. The air was slightly lumpy through the night. A station ship full in the rays of the moon was almost passed without being seen by us. Then it focussed its search-light upon us to attract our attention.

“Nobody on board the NC-1 slept during the entire flight. The time passed very quickly, and we found the work of watching for the station ships and checking the air drift very interesting. Hot coffee and sandwiches were available for all hands throughout the flight.

“Finally, the glow of the dawn appeared in the east and soon thereafter the sun arose. The motors were hitting beautifully, and we were making a good 70 miles per hour. Everybody was feeling fine and confident that nothing could stop us making Ponta Delgada.

_Plane Runs into a Thick Fog_

“But soon we began to encounter thick overcast patches and the visibility became poor. As we went through one thick stretch, station ship No. 16 loomed dead ahead of us. Some of the station ships radioed weather reports to us. We passed No. 17, on the port hand, at a distance of 12 miles at 10.04 (6.04 New York time), and shortly thereafter, while we were flying at an altitude of 600 feet, we ran into a thick fog.

“The pilots climbed to get above the fog, for it was very dense and bedimmed their goggles and the glass over the instruments very quickly. It was almost impossible to read the instruments. Pilots Barin and Mitscher did excellent work and brought the plane to an altitude of 3,000 feet, well above the fog. For a while there the sight was a beautiful one, but none of us could appreciate it. We could not see the water through the fog, and we could not determine how far we were drifting.

“We dodged some fog, but soon encountered more. We continued on, side-slipping and turning in an effort to keep on our course, until 12.50 (8.50 A. M. New York time), when we decided to come down near the water and get our bearings, intending then to fly underneath the fog. We came down to an altitude of 75 feet. The visibility there was about half a mile. The air was bumpy and the wind shifted from 350 to 290 magnetic.

“We changed our course to conform with the new conditions, and sent out radio signals requesting compass bearings by wireless. We decided to land if the fog thickened. A few minutes thereafter we ran into a low, thick fog. I turned the plane about and headed into the wind, landing at 13.10 (9.10 A. M. New York time), after flying a total of 15 hours.

“The water was very rough; much too rough to warrant an attempt to get away again. The outlook was exceedingly gloomy. We realized that we could not go on, and must wait where we were to be picked up. The wind and the condition of the water prevented our taxiing over the sea to windward, and we soon found that radio communication between the plane and the ships was difficult and unsatisfactory.

“We put over a sea-anchor shortly after we alighted, but it was carried away almost immediately. Then we rigged a metal bucket as a sea-anchor, and that did a great deal of good. The wings and tail of the NC-1, however, got severe punishment from the rough sea, and the fabric on the outer and lower wings was slit to help preserve the structure. In an effort to reduce the punishment to the plane, too, I kept one of the centre motors running, but nevertheless both the wings and the tail were badly damaged.

“It looked for some time as if the plane would capsize. All hands realized the danger we were in, but none of them showed the slightest fear. At 17.40 (1.40 P. M. New York time) we sighted a steamer, hull down, and sent a radio message to her. Then we taxied in her direction. The ship proved to be the _Ionia_. She had no wireless. After a little she sighted us. Then the fog shut down again and the ship disappeared from view.

“Later, when the fog cleared, we saw that the ship was heading for us. We got alongside at 19.20 (3.20 P. M. New York time), and at 2.20 were on board the _Ionia_. An effort was made to tow the plane, but the line parted. A destroyer came alongside at 00.35 (8.35 P. M. New York time) and took charge of the NC-1. The _Ionia_ landed us at Horta. The plane was left at latitude 29 degrees, 58 minutes, longitude 30 degrees, 15 minutes.”

HISTORY OF NAVY’S GREAT OCEAN FLIGHT

November, 1917—Conference between navy and Curtiss engineers at Washington, D. C.

January, 1918—Working model tested in wind-tunnel. Found practical.

October, 1918—Trial flight of NC-1 at Rockaway Beach, Long Island.

November, 1918—NC-1 makes long-distance trip from Rockaway to Anacostia, D. C., 358 miles, in 5 hours 19 minutes.

February, 1919—-NC-2 climbs 2,000 feet in five minutes.

February 24, 1919—Secretary of Navy orders four planes to be prepared for transatlantic flight.

April 3, 1919—-NC-2 found to be impractical in design of hull, and is taken out of the flight. NC-3 and NC-4 assembled at Rockaway.

May 7—NC-4 damaged by fire while in hangar. Wings replaced. Elevators repaired.

May 8—Three planes leave Rockaway for Trepassey Bay, Newfoundland.

May 8—NC-3 and NC-4 arrive at Halifax, N. S. (450 miles).

NC-4 forced down by motor trouble. Puts in at Chatham Bay, Mass., for repairs after riding the waves all night.

May 10—NC-1 and NC-3 proceed from Halifax to Trepassey in 6 hours 56 minutes (460 miles).

May 14—NC-4 flies from Chatham to Halifax in 4 hours 10 minutes at 85 miles an hour.

May 16—Three planes leave Trepassey Bay for Azores, 1,250 miles.

NC-4 lands at Horta, Azores, in 15 hours 18 minutes.

NC-1 drops in ocean half hour from Flores. Crew rescued; seaplane a total wreck.

NC-3 lost in storm. Forced to descend 205 miles from destination.

May 19—NC-3 arrives at Ponta Delgada riding waves under own power. Wings and hull wrecked. Engine-struts broken. Out of race.

May 20—NC-4 flies from Horta to Ponta Delgada, Azores, 160 miles, in 1 hour 44 minutes.

May 27—NC-4 flies from Ponta Delgada to Lisbon, Portugal, 810 miles, in 9 hours 43 minutes. Flying time from Newfoundland to Portugal (2,150 miles), 26 hours 45 minutes.

May 30—NC-4 flies from Lisbon to Ferrol, Spain, 300 miles, after a halt at Mondego, 100 miles north of Lisbon, owing to engine trouble.

May 31—NC-4 flies from Ferrol, Spain, to Plymouth, England, 400 miles, without a hitch, thus completing the transatlantic flight as scheduled.

BRITISH EFFORTS TO FLY THE ATLANTIC

Captain Hawker, with his Sopwith, was the first to get to St. John’s on March 4. He was quickly followed by Captain Raynham and his Martinsyde.

Owing to the constant bad weather which has obtained for seven weeks, the British fliers had not dared to attempt the flight until Sunday, May 18, when Hawker and Raynham started. Everything from snow to the 70-mile gale which blew on April 15 has been experienced at St. John’s. The storm continued throughout that and the next morning. The mechanicians at the hangars of the two flying-camps spent the night watching and guarding the aeroplanes. The Martinsyde plane, which was housed in one of the portable canvas hangars used by the British army in the war, was in danger of injury for a time, when the gale ripped up the pegs that anchored the canvas flies of the hangar, and for a time threatened to snatch the whole thing into the air. These storms have made the grounds impossible for taking off, and as the fliers hoped to take advantage of the full moon, which was beginning to gradually wane, the opportunities for flying by moonlight disappeared and a second moon was on the wane before they started.

On March 4 Captain Hawker landed at St. John’s, Newfoundland, with his Sopwith plane, and his five mechanics began to assemble the machine, which follows the general lines of construction adopted by the Sopwith war-plane designers. It is 46 feet wide and 31 feet long, with a flight duration of 25 hours at 100 miles an hour. During a daylight-to-dusk duration test Commander Grieve and Pilot Hawker covered over 900 miles in 9 hours 5 minutes, exactly half the distance between Newfoundland and Ireland. The Rolls-Royce engine develops 375 horse-power at 1,800 revolutions of the crank-shaft. A four-bladed propeller is used geared down to 1,281 revolutions. The Sopwith machine weighs 6,000 pounds fully equipped for the transatlantic flight. In the trial test the engine consumed 146 gallons of petrol—slightly over one-third the capacity of the tanks, which are placed behind the engine and in front of the cockpit in which Major Hawker and Commander Grieve sit.

At the end of the 900-mile tryout the engine developed exactly the same power as at the start, which leads Major Hawker to believe the engine will continue to perform the same for the rest of the distance.

Major Hawker proposed leaving St. John’s, Newfoundland, about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and travelling through the night they hoped to pass the south coast of Ireland shortly before noon the following day, English time, arriving at the Brooklands aerodrome, near London, at 4 o’clock, a total flying time of 19 hours and 30 minutes.

In case they were forced to descend into the sea, the “fairing” of the fuselage is so constructed that it forms a boat large enough to support the two men in the water for some time. In addition they wear life-saving jackets. A medical officer in the British Air Ministry made up some scientific food sufficient for forty-eight hours. This includes sugar, cheese, coffee, sandwiches, and tabloids.

MAJOR HARRY HAWKER

Major Harry Hawker is an Australian, just 31. He is the highest paid flier in the world. He was a bicycle mechanic in Australia when he went to England in 1912 and became an aeroplane mechanic. In 1912 he joined the T. O. M. Sopwith Company, and a year later he came to the United States and flew in “Tim” Woodruff’s Nassau Boulevard meet. Hawker returned to England, and about a year later entered the famous “round England flight.”

On October 24, 1912, in a Sopwith biplane, designed after the pattern of the American Wright, and driven by a 40 horse-power A B C engine, he put up the British duration record to 8 hours and 23 minutes, thus winning the Michelin Cup for that year.

On May 31, 1913, in a Sopwith tractor biplane, with an 80 horse-power Gnome engine, he put up the British altitude record for a pilot alone to 11,450 feet, and on June 16 of the same year, in the same machine, he hung up a record, with one passenger, of 12,900 feet.

On the same day he took up two passengers to 10,600 feet, and on July 27 took up three passengers to 8,400 feet, all of which were British records.

In 1913 and 1914, in a Sopwith seaplane, Hawker made two attempts to win the _Daily Mail’s_ $25,000 prize for a flight on a seaplane around Great Britain. The first time he was knocked out by illness at Yarmouth, and the second time he met with an accident near Dublin.

During the last three years Hawker has been test pilot for the Sopwiths, receiving $125 for each flight, and sometimes making a dozen in a single day. His annual earnings in this period are estimated at $100,000.

COMMANDER GRIEVE

Commander Mackenzie Grieve is 39 years old. He has not been connected with aeronautics for any great length of time, but is an officer of the Royal navy, who has specialized on navigation and wireless telegraphy and telephony. He has been strongly commended by the Admiralty for his work in this direction, and has been chosen as a navigator on the cross-sea trip because he has combined two branches of a naval officer’s work, which are not, as a rule, made the subject of specialization by one man, but both of which are essential to such a feat as a transatlantic flight.

TEST FLIGHTS OF THE SOPWITH

On April 11 Major Harry Hawker made a successful test flight at St. John’s.

The wireless station there sent messages to the aviator which he was unable to pick up, but the station at Mount Pearl kept in continual touch with the machine through all the flight. After his flight the flier said that his speed while in the air had been on an average of 100 miles an hour.

THE MARTINSYDE PLANE ARRIVES

On April 2 Captain Frederick Phillips Raynham, the pilot of the Martinsyde aeroplane, and Captain Charles Willard Fairfax Morgan, navigator, arrived at St. John’s and began to make preparations for setting up their canvas hangar which was to house their aeroplane. The aerodrome selected was at the Quid Vivi. This site had been selected by Major Morgan about three months ago, and the tent was set up on that field as per the plans and specifications.

The biplane weighs, fully loaded, about 5,000 pounds and carries 360 gallons of gas, while the Sopwith weighs about 6,100 pounds and carries only 350 gallons. Raynham says he has a cruising radius of 2,000 miles with a twenty-mile head wind against him all the way across. But as the prevailing winds are from west to east, he expects to fly with the wind most of the way. The machine was designed by G. H. Handasyde, who has had many years’ designing experience in co-operation with H. P. Martin, chairman of Martinsydes.

The reappearance in the transatlantic attempt of a Martinsyde plane as a competitor for the _Daily Mail_ prize recalls that the firm as early as 1914 entered for a transatlantic competition, having completed a monoplane which was to have started from St. John’s, the scene of the present venture. This machine was to have been flown by Gustave Hamel, who, it will be remembered, while flying from London to Paris, came down at Calais, ascended again, and has never since been heard of. He is believed to have been drowned in the North Sea, for no trace of his machine was ever found.

CAPTAIN RAYNHAM

Captain Raynham is 25 years old. He began to fly at 17, being the possessor of half a dozen of the oldest flying licenses in England. Most of his experience has been in experimental and test flying.

Raynham went with Martinsydes in the early development days of 1907, and was with them when they began monoplane production in 1908. This they continued until the war began, when they turned to building biplanes, the present machine being only a very slight modification of their latest fighting scout.

The Martinsyde biplane was not especially designed for the transatlantic flight, but was taken from stock. It still carries its original fighting equipment, similar to that used during the war. The machine is named the “Raymor,” a combination of the names Raynham and Morgan.

The machine has a wing span of 41 feet and a lifting area of 500 square feet; over-all length, 26 feet; height, from ground to top of propeller, 10 feet 10 inches. The engine is a Rolls-Royce “Falcon,” which is rated at 285 horse-power. It has a capacity of developing up to 300 horse-power at a speed of 100 to 125 miles per hour. The cruising radius is 2,500 miles.

The Martinsyde machine carries no life-saving apparatus of any kind. Tanks are provided for fuel capacity of 375 gallons, sufficient for a flight of 25 hours at 100 miles per hour. Raynham’s idea is to make an ascent at an angle of 3 degrees until an altitude of 1,500 feet is reached. This altitude would be attained in 24 hours, at which time land on the other side would be within planing distance.

CAPTAIN WOODS’S ATTEMPTED FLIGHT TO AMERICA

The aeroplane of the Shortt brothers, one of the entries for the $50,000 race across the Atlantic, was to start from Ireland for Newfoundland. The machine is expected to make the journey in twenty hours, but owing to a defective carburetor the machine fell in the Irish Sea while making the flight from England to Ireland. Captain Woods was rescued, but no further news has been received of the preparations for the flight.

The Shortt brothers had chosen the Limerick section of Ireland for their starting-point. It is considered likely that the Shortt trial will be the only east-to-west attempt, all of the other entries in the _Daily Mail’s_ contest having indicated their intention of flying eastward because of the strong head winds from the west.

The machine entered by the Shortt brothers is the Shortt “Shiel” aeroplane. It is fitted with a 375 horse-power Rolls-Royce engine, developing a speed of ninety-five miles an hour. The machine carries a pilot and a navigator. Of biplane type, the machine, its makers say, is capable of a 3,200 mile non-stop drive.

In their application to the British Air Ministry, the Shortts designated Major James C. P. Woods, of the Royal Flying Corps, as pilot, with Captain C. C. Wylie. In addition to his experience in the air, Major Woods had considerable experience as a navigator on destroyers guarding troop-ships through the Atlantic submarine zone. Major Woods, who has flown more than 10,000 miles, gained fame as a bomber in France.

The latest contestant to arrive at St. John’s was the Handley Page Berlin Bomber which was landed on May 10. The biplane is the only one to be compared with the United States navy flying-boats in size. The wing spread is 126 feet, the chord 12 feet. The total weight of the machine is about 16,000 pounds. It carries 3 pilots, 3 mechanics, 2 wireless operators, and 2,000 gallons of gas. The wireless is long enough to keep in touch with both shores all the way. The route is to Limerick, Ireland. The machine has four Rolls-Royce motors of 350 horse-power, and the aeroplane is taken from stock. They expect to travel 90 miles per hour.

One of the pilots is Colonel T. Gran, the Norwegian who first flew from Scotland to Norway in August, 1914. He was a member of the British R. A. F. and also with Captain Scott in the South Polar Expedition.

Major Brackley has had perhaps as much experience in night flying as any living man, and Admiral Mark Kerr is one of the oldest pilots in England. He was the sixth to be granted a pilot’s license in England.

HAWKER’S STORY OF ATLANTIC FLIGHT

Thurso, Scotland, May 26.—Harry Hawker and Mackenzie Grieve gave the London _Daily Mail_ an outline of their historic flight. Hawker told his story simply as follows:

“We had very difficult ground to rise from on the other side. To get in the air at all we had to run diagonally across the course. Once we got away, we climbed very well, but about ten minutes up we passed from firm, clear weather into fog.

“Off the Newfoundland banks we got well over this fog, however, and, of course, at once lost sight of the sea. The sky was quite clear for the first four hours, when the visibility became very bad. Heavy cloud-banks were encountered, and eventually we flew into a heavy storm with rain squalls.

“At this time we were flying well above the clouds at a height of about 15,000 feet.

“About five and one-half hours out, owing to the choking of the filter, the temperature of the water cooling out the engines started to rise, but after coming down several thousand feet we overcame this difficulty.

“Everything went well for a few hours, when once again the circulation system became choked and the temperature of the water rose to the boiling-point. We of course realized until the pipe was cleared we could not rise much higher without using a lot of motor power.

“When we were about ten and one-half hours on our way the circulation system was still giving trouble, and we realized we could not go on using up our motor power.

“Then it was we reached the fateful decision to play for safety. We changed our course and began to fly diagonally across the main shipping route for about two and a half hours, when, to our great relief, we sighted the Danish steamer which proved to be the tramp _Mary_.

“We at once sent up our Very light distress signals. These were answered promptly, and then we flew on about two miles and landed in the water ahead of the steamer.

_Impossible to Salve Machine_

“The sea was exceedingly rough, and despite the utmost efforts of the Danish crew it was one and a half hours before they succeeded in taking us off. It was only at a great risk to themselves, in fact, that they eventually succeeded in launching a small boat, owing to the heavy gale from the northeast which was raging.

“It was found impossible to salve the machine, which, however, is most probably still afloat somewhere in the mid-Atlantic.

“Altogether, before being picked up, we had been fourteen and a half hours out from Newfoundland. We were picked up at 8.30 (British summer time).

“From Captain Duhn of the _Mary_ and his Danish crew we received the greatest kindness on our journey home. The ship carried no wireless, and it was not until we arrived off the Butt of Lewis that we were able to communicate with the authorities.

“Off Loch Eireball we were met by the destroyer _Woolston_ and conveyed to Scapa Flow, where we had a splendid welcome home from Admiral Freemantle and the men of the Grand Fleet.”

Commander Mackenzie Grieve, the navigator of the Sopwith, said:

“When but a few hundred miles out a strong northerly gale drove us steadily out of our course. It was not always possible, owing to the pressure of the dense masses of cloud, to take our bearings, and I calculate that at the time we determined to cut across the shipping route we were about 200 miles off our course.

“Up to this change of direction we had covered about 1,000 miles of our journey to the Irish coast.”

VICKERS “VIMY” BOMBER MAKES FIRST NON-STOP FLIGHT FROM AMERICA TO EUROPE

Leaving St. John’s, Newfoundland, at 12.13 P. M. New York time on Saturday, June 14, the Vickers “Vimy” bomber, bimotored Rolls-Royce aeroplane, with two four-bladed propellers, and piloted by Captain John Alcock and navigated by Lieutenant Arthur W. Brown, landed at Clifden, Galway, Ireland, at 4.40 A. M. New York time, aerially transnavigating 1,960 miles of the Atlantic Ocean, from the New World to the Old, in 16 hours and 12 minutes, or at an average rate of 120 miles an hour. Although the moon was full, the fog and mist was so dense that the aviators could not see the moon, sun, or stars for fourteen out of the sixteen hours in the air. During the flight they flew through atmosphere so cold that ice caked on the instruments. Nevertheless, the engines functioned consistently throughout the journey, which was, in many ways, as remarkable as the voyage of “The Ancient Mariner,” whom Coleridge’s poem of that name describes.

Unfortunately, the small propeller which drives the dynamo and generates the current for the wireless radio instruments had jarred loose and blown away shortly after the machine ascended into the air, and the atmosphere was so surcharged with electricity that Lieutenant Brown could not get any radio messages through, and the airship was lost to the world for over sixteen hours. During the flight the men experienced many thrills, primarily because they had no sense of horizon, due to the thick fog which prevailed most of the way over. Under those conditions the navigation was remarkable, and when the aviators saw the aerials at Clifden they were delighted. In landing they mistook the bog for a field, and consequently made a bad landing, for the machine sank into the bog and stuck there badly damaged in the wing.

CAPTAIN ALCOCK’S STORY

Describing the experiences of himself and Lieutenant Brown, Captain Alcock, in a message from Galway to the London _Daily Mail_, which awarded them the $50,000 prize for making the first non-stop flight across the Atlantic between Europe and America, said:

“We had a terrible journey. The wonder is that we are here at all. We scarcely saw the sun or moon or stars. For hours we saw none of them. The fog was dense, and at times we had to descend within 300 feet of the sea.

“For four hours our machine was covered with a sheet of ice carried by frozen sleet. At another time the fog was so dense that my speed indicator did not work, and for a few minutes it was alarming.

“We looped the loop, I do believe, and did a steep spiral. We did some comic stunts, for I have had no sense of horizon.

“The winds were favorable all the way, northwest, and at times southwest. We said in Newfoundland that we could do the trip in sixteen hours, but we never thought we should. An hour and a half before we saw land we had no certain idea where we were, but we believed we were at Galway or thereabouts.

“Our delight in seeing Eastal Island and Tarbot Island, five miles west of Clifden, was great. The people did not know who we were, and thought we were scouts looking for Alcock.

“We encountered no unforeseen conditions. We did not suffer from cold or exhaustion, except when looking over the side; then the sleet chewed bits out of our faces. We drank coffee and ale, and ate sandwiches and chocolate.

“Our flight has shown that the Atlantic flight is practicable, but I think it should be done, not with an aeroplane or seaplane, but with flying-boats.

“We had plenty of reserve fuel left, using only two-thirds of our supply.

“The only thing that upset me was to see the machine at the end get damaged. From above the bog looked like a lovely field, but the machine sank into it to the axle, and fell over on to her side.”

ALCOCK HAS SPENT 4,500 HOURS IN AIR

There are few fliers, living or dead, who have passed as many hours in the air as Captain John Alcock, the twenty-seven-year-old pilot of the first aeroplane to make a non-stop flight across the Atlantic. This officer of the Royal Air Force has flown more than 4,500 hours. The one man who is known to have passed more time in the air is Captain Roy N. Francis, U. S. A.

Big, blond, and ruddy, Captain Alcock is typically English in appearance, voice, and mannerisms. His eyes are blue, and his hair, brushed straight back, is almost flaxen. He is more than six feet in height and heavy of frame. Powerful wrists and forearms attest to many hours of tinkering with heavy machinery.

Alcock, who was born in Manchester in 1892, was apprenticed at seventeen to the Empress Motor Works, a firm interested at that time in the development of an aeroplane engine. Alcock helped to build the first aero engine made at that plant, and meanwhile developed the flying fever.

Then he started experimenting with gliders, and in 1911 began to fly. He earned his certificate the following year, and in 1913 won the first race in which he ever had entered. Shortly afterward he took second place in the London to Manchester and return competition, at that time one of the most famous air-races.

In one of those early competitions Alcock beat Frederick Raynham, the pilot of the Martinsyde which was injured in trying to get off for the transatlantic flight with Hawker, whose effort to cross the ocean in a Sopwith ended in mid-ocean a few weeks ago.

From the fall of 1914 to the fall of 1916 Alcock was an instructor of flying at Eastchurch, where he trained some of the best-known fliers of England. One of these was Major H. G. Brackley, pilot of the Handley Page bomber, which has been sent to Newfoundland in the hope that it could get away first on the “hop” across the Atlantic.

From Eastchurch Alcock went to the Dardanelles. There he won the Distinguished Service Cross as an ace, and it is the gossip of the air force that if he had not fallen prisoner to the Turks his rank would have been much higher. He has seven enemy planes to his credit.

It was his bombing work that attracted most attention, however, for he made a raid on Adrianople and dropped a ton of bombs, destroying 3,000 houses, blowing up an ammunition-train, and razed a fort. Out of the thirty-six bombs he dropped on that expedition twenty were incendiary and sixteen high-explosive. Accurate knowledge of the damage he had inflicted on that September day in 1917 did not come until after the armistice was signed, but Alcock did not have to wait until the armistice to discover that his adventure had been a military success. Ninety miles from Adrianople on his return flight he could still see the glare in the sky from the fires his bombs had ignited.

He was the first man to bomb Constantinople, and it was on his return from his second bombing expedition over the Turkish capital that one of the engines in his twin Handley Page failed him. He managed to fly seventy-six miles on the other engine before he was forced to descend on the island of Imbros, within twelve miles of the home station.

But that twelve miles meant all the difference between friends and enemies, and the aviator was taken prisoner and confined in the civil jail. Later he was removed to Constantinople and then to Asia Minor, where he was held until the armistice was signed. He returned to England December 16, 1918.

Immediately upon his return Alcock joined the Vickers concern as a test pilot. It was due to his persuasion that the conservative directors of the concern, which controls the British Westinghouse works, committed themselves to the enterprise of entering an aeroplane in the transatlantic flight for the _Daily Mail_ prize of $50,000 for the first non-stop flight.

AMERICA SHARES ALCOCK’S TRIUMPH

There is hardly any comparison to be made between Captain Alcock and his navigator, Lieutenant Arthur Whitten Brown. While Alcock is large of frame, Brown is a full head shorter and boyish in build. There are gray threads in Brown’s hair, mementoes of twenty-three months in a German prison-camp. His left foot is crippled, too, the result of a crash when he was brought down by German anti-aircraft guns behind the German lines at Bapaume.

Brown is an American born of American parents in Glasgow in 1886. His father was connected with George Westinghouse in the development of an engine. It was that engine that took him to the British Isles, and he took part in the organization of the British Westinghouse Company, now controlled by Vickers, Limited, the concern which built the plane in which the transocean flight was made.

LIEUTENANT BROWN

Lieutenant Brown’s mother was a member of the Whitten family of Pittsburgh, and his grandfather fought with the famous Hampden’s Battery at Gettysburg. Brown himself has lived in Pittsburgh, where he went to continue the studies at the Westinghouse works that had begun in the works in England.

He enlisted in the university and public school corps in 1914, and in 1915 took his wings. Most of his service was as an observer and reconnaissance officer. One time the machine in which he flew as an observer was shot down in flames. He says of that experience that he “was burned a bit,” but was glad enough to escape capture. The machine he was in crashed. He passed nine months in a German hospital and fourteen more months in a German prison-camp, and then was repatriated by exchange. He spent the latter days of the war period in productions work for the Ministry of Munitions.

Lieutenant Brown has never been a navigator in any but an amateur way. Navigation with him is simply a hobby, and on his frequent crossings of the Atlantic, he says, he never failed to persuade the captain of his ship to allow him on the bridge to take a shot at the sun.

The flight across the Atlantic, Brown said, would be his last, for he is engaged to be married to Miss Kennedy, the daughter of a major of the Royal Air Force, and they are planning to pass their honeymoon (and his share of the prize-money) on a trip around the world. After that they are coming to America, and Lieutenant Brown plans to engage in the practice of electrical engineering.

“VIMY” DESIGNED TO BOMB ENEMY TOWNS

The twin-engined Vickers-Vimy plane in which the English pilot and his American navigator crossed to Ireland has a 67-foot 2-inch wing spread. The length over all is 42 feet 8 inches; gap, 10 feet; chord, 10 feet 6 inches. It is a bombing-type plane, and its conversion to a peace-time adventure was accomplished by replacing the fighting equipment with tanks of a total gasoline capacity of 870 gallons, weighing more than 6,000 pounds.

The two Rolls-Royce Eagle 375 horse-power engines are mounted between the upper and lower planes on either side of the fuselage.

The outstanding feature of the Vimy is the strength and elasticity of its construction, accomplished by the use of hollow, seamless steel tubing. This type of construction extends from the nose to well behind the planes.

The Vimy has a sturdy double under-carriage, with a two-wheeled chassis placed directly under each engine. Fully loaded the craft weighs a trifle more than 13,000 pounds. Even distribution of eight separate tanks and a cleverly arranged feeding system whereby the fuel is consumed at the same rate from all eight not only insured a well-balanced plane but promised an “even keel” had the fliers been forced down on the surface of the ocean.

A gravity-tank at the top of the fuselage was arranged to be emptied first, so it could serve as a life-raft any time after the first two hours of the flight, which period was necessary to exhaust the load of gasoline contained in that tank.

The Vimy’s radio apparatus is the standard type used by the Royal Air Force, and was lent to Alcock by the British Air Ministry. It is similar to that carried by Hawker’s Sopwith. The transmitting radius of this type of radio is placed at 250 miles. Messages can be received from a much greater distance.

VIMY FLIGHT SETS NEW WORLD’S DISTANCE RECORD

The 1,690-mile flight of the Vickers “Vimy” Bomber, carrying Alcock and Brown, establishes a new world’s record, breaking the one made by Captain Boehm in a Mercedes-driven Albatross plane, which flew for 25 hours and 1 minute and covered 1,350 miles.

The year 1914, just previous to the war, was the most prolific in long-distance flights. On June 23 the German aviator Basser covered 1,200 miles in a Rumpler biplane in 16 hours and 28 minutes.

The same day Landsmann, another German, drove an Albatross machine 1,100 miles in 17 hours and 17 minutes, and four days later 1,200 miles in 21 hours and 49 minutes.

The nearest approach to Boehm’s record was made on April 25 last, when Lieutenant-Commander H. B. Grow, U. S. N., flew a twin-engine F-5-L flying-boat a total distance of 1,250 miles in 20 hours and 20 minutes.

Lieutenant-Commander A. C. Read, in his hop on the NC-3 from Trepassey Bay to Horta in the Azores, broke no distance records in the 1,200 nautical miles he flew, but shattered the record for speed, making an average of 103.5 miles an hour.

The French pre-war record was on April 27, 1914, by Paulet, who flew 950 miles in 16 hours and 28 minutes. Since the war the French aviators Coli and Roget flew from Villacoublay, near Paris, to Rabat, Morocco, a distance of 1,116 miles without stopping. The engine was a 300 horse-power Renault, and constitutes the longest single-motor non-stop flight on record. Miss Ruth Law holds the record for long-distance flight by a woman. On November 19, 1916, she covered the 590 miles from Chicago to Hornell, N. Y., in 5 hours and 45 minutes.

THE FIRST TRANSATLANTIC FLIGHT OF THE R-34

After a flight of 108 hours, the British dirigible which left Scotland at 2 A. M. July 2, arrived at Roosevelt Field, Mineola, Long Island, N. Y., at 9 A. M., Sunday, July 6, after a flight via Newfoundland and Halifax. Owing to the strong head winds and fog which prevailed the most of the journey the huge airship was delayed two days in its flight, and there was for some time grave doubt that she would arrive on her own gasoline, for the supply was running low, and the aid of destroyers was requested by wireless from the R-34.

As soon as the airship arrived over Roosevelt Field, Major John Edward Maddock Pritchard landed upon American soil, after a parachute drop of 2,000 feet.

This completed the longest flight in history, the distance covered being 3,200 miles, not counting the mileage forced upon the flyers by adverse winds. The time consumed was a few minutes more than 108 hours. The big airship brought over thirty-one persons, one of whom was a stowaway, and a tortoise-shell cat.

A fortunate turn of the wind at about 2 o’clock Sunday morning made the success of the flight possible. Four times on Friday night and early Saturday morning heavy squalls and thunder-storms had threatened to cripple or smash the flying colossus.

During the worst of the storm on Friday night the big airship was suddenly tossed aloft 500 feet and pitched about like a dory in a heavy sea. For a time there was great danger that a vital part would be smashed and a landing forced on the rough water, but the workmanship and material in every part of the 630-foot air giant proved flawless, and Commander Scott got his craft safely through.

In response to calls for aid 200 men were sent from Mineola to Montauk Point, Long Island, where it was at first hoped the R-34 might be towed by the torpedo-boats sent out to aid the airship. The sudden shift in the wind decided Major Scott to continue the flight to Mineola as originally planned.

At 8.35 A. M. the R-34 became visible from Mineola Field, looking at first like a splinter split off from the bluish horizon in the northeast. A thin line of light beneath it made it distinguishable at first at a distance of about twenty miles. Slowly it disengaged itself from the blurring lines where the earth and sky met, and gradually its bulk began to develop. As it approached the field it rose for better observation, and at about 9 o’clock stood out in the sky in its full super-dreadnought proportions, its painted skin responding to the sun, which had become bright a few minutes before, and giving off a dull, metallic gleam between lead and aluminum in tint.

It glided through the air with such smoothness as to give the suggestion that it was motionless and the spectator moving. Like the buzz of a midsummer noontime, the hum of its motors produced no disturbing effect on the quiet.

The ship approached the landing-place at a height of about 2,000 feet, coming from the east-northeast, and passing first over Mitchel Field. It swung around the skirts of Roosevelt Field, while its commanders studied the details of the landing-place. The manœuvres for observation took the dirigible three times around the field before she came to a stop. After 9.11 it shut off its motors, and hovered, like a fixed object, 2,000 feet above the ground.

The time of the R-34 for the transatlantic crossing is slightly greater than the steamship record made by the _Mauretania_, which, in September, 1909, made the trip from Queenstown to New York in 4 days, 10 hours, and 41 minutes. This is better by approximately 2 hours than the time of the dirigible, which took 4 days, 12 hours, and some odd minutes. The R-34, however, starting from Edinburgh, covered a much greater distance. The rate of speed of the R-34 in covering the 3,200 miles was 29⅖ knots per hour.

AIRSHIP LANDED

The crew sent the cable on and it made a bull’s-eye in the drop, falling squarely over the main anchor. The workmen, who rushed to catch it on the bound, were flung to the ground and rolled about, as if by the lash of a gigantic whip, but they subdued it in a second and rushed with it to the iron ring. An instant later it was dragged through this opening and the gas-bag was secured. A few moments later the crews of men were pinning it down like Gulliver, attaching anchors all along the hull to prepared anchorages of concrete and steel, sunk deeply into the earth.

The British officers, accompanied by their American guest, Lieutenant-Commander Zachary Lansdowne, climbed out of the gondola to receive the official greetings of the government of the United States and the hearty congratulations of brother seamen and flyers in American and British uniforms. Those who expected to find them worn and wan from their unparalleled experience were astonished to see them all in the finest fettle and spirits, ruddy and vigorous, wide-awake, and full of fun.

The crew followed them to land, on which none had set foot for nearly five days, all the members being in good health and spirits, except one man, who had suffered a smashed thumb, the only accident of the cruise.

THE OFFICIAL LOG OF R-34 TRANSATLANTIC FLIGHT BY BRIGADIER-GENERAL E. M. MAITLAND, C. M. G., D. C. O., REPRESENTING THE BRITISH AIR MINISTRY

Atlantic flight by rigid airship R-34, from East Fortune, Scotland, to Long Island, New York, via Newfoundland:

Distances covered were as follows: East Fortune to Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, 2,050 sea-miles. Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, to New York, 1,080 sea-miles.

It was originally intended that this flight should have taken place at the beginning of June, but owing to the uncertainty of the Germans signing the peace terms the British Admiralty decided to detain her for an extended cruise up the Baltic and along the German coast-line. This flight occupied 56 hours under adverse weather conditions, during which time an air distance of roughly 2,400 miles was covered.

At the conclusion of this flight the ship was taken over from the Admiralty by the Air Ministry, and the airship was quickly overhauled for the journey to the United States of America.

The date and time of sailing decided upon was 2 A. M. on the morning of Wednesday, July 2, and the press representatives were notified by the Air Ministry to be at East Fortune the day previously.

STARTED AHEAD OF SCHEDULE

At 1.30 A. M. on the morning of Wednesday, July 2, the airship was taken from her shed and actually took the air 12 minutes later, thus starting on her long voyage exactly 18 minutes in advance of scheduled time.

1.42 A. M., Wednesday, July 2.

The R-34 slowly arose from the hands of the landing party and was completely swallowed up in the low-lying clouds at a height of 100 feet. When flying at night, possibly on account of the darkness, there is always a feeling of loneliness immediately after leaving the ground. The loneliness on this occasion was accentuated by the faint cheers of the landing party coming upward through the mist long after all signs of the earth had disappeared.

The airship rose rapidly 1,500 feet, at which height she emerged from the low-lying clouds and headed straight up the Firth of Forth toward Edinburgh.

A few minutes after 2 o’clock the lights of Rosyth showed up through a break in the clouds, thus proving brilliantly that the correct allowance had been made for the force and direction of the wind, which was twenty miles per hour from the east.

It should be borne in mind that when an airship gets out on a long-distance voyage carrying her maximum allowance of petrol, she can only rise to a limited height at the outset without throwing some of it overboard as ballast, and that as the airship proceeds on her voyage she can, if so desired, gradually increase her height as the petrol is consumed by the engine.

An airship of this type, when most of her petrol is consumed, can rise to a height of about 14,000 feet.

15.8 TONS OF PETROL AT START

For this reason the next few hours were about the most anxious periods during the flight for Major Scott, the captain of the ship, who, owing to the large amount of petrol carried (4,900 gallons, weighing 15.8 tons), had to keep the ship as low as possible and at the same time pass over northern Scotland, where the hills rise to a height of over 3,000 feet.

Owing to the stormy nature of the morning the air at 1,500 feet—the height at which the airship was travelling—was most disturbed and bumpy, due to the wind being broken up by the mountains to the north, causing violent wind-currents and air-pockets.

The most disturbed conditions were met in the mouth of the Clyde, south of Loch Lomond, which, surrounded by high mountains, looked

## particularly beautiful in the gray dawn light.

The islands at the mouth of the Firth of Clyde were quietly passed. The north coast of Ireland appeared for a time, and shortly afterward faded away as we headed out into the Atlantic.

The various incidents of the voyage are set down quite simply as they occurred, and more or less in the form of a diary. No attempt has been made to write them as a connected story. It is felt that, by recording each incident in this way, most of them trivial, a few of vital importance, a true picture of the voyage will be obtained.

Time, 6 A. M., July 2.

EARLY SPEED, 38 KNOTS

Airship running on four engines with 1,000 revolutions. Forward engine being given a rest. Air speed, 38 knots—land-miles per hour made good, 56.7. Course steered, 298 degrees north, 62 degrees west. Course made good, 39 degrees north, 71 west. Wind, north-east, 15⅓ miles per hour. Height, 1,500 feet. Large banks of fleecy clouds came rolling along from the Atlantic, gradually blotting out all view of the sea. At first we were above these clouds, but gradually they rose higher, and we ploughed our way into the middle of them.

7 A. M.—Nothing but dense fog, estimated by Harris, the meteorological officer, to go down to within 50 feet of the water and up to a height of about 5,000 feet.

Suddenly we catch a glimpse of the sea through a hole in the clouds, and it is now easy to see we have a slight drift to the south, which was estimated by both Scott, the captain, and Cooke, the navigating officer.

A few minutes later we find ourselves above the clouds, our height still being 1,500 feet, and beneath a cloud sky with clouds at about 8,000 feet. We are, therefore, in between two layers of clouds, a condition in which Alcock and Brown found themselves on more than one occasion on their recent flight from west to east.

An excellent cloud horizon now presents itself on all sides, of which Cooke at once takes advantage. These observations, if the cloud horizon is quite flat, ought to prove a valuable rough guide, but cannot be regarded as accurate unless one can also obtain a check on the sun by day or the moon and stars by night.

Cooke reckons it is easy to make as much as a fifty-mile error in locating one’s position when using a cloud horizon as substitute for a sea horizon.

BREAKFAST AT 1,500 FEET

7.30 A. M.—Breakfast in crew space up in the keel consisted of cold ham, one hard-boiled egg each, bread and butter, and hot tea. We breakfast in two watches, generally about fifteen in each.

The first watch for breakfast was Scott, Cooke, Pritchard, Admiralty airship expert; Lansdowne, Lieutenant-Commander, United States Airship Service; Shotter, engineer officer; Harris, meteorological officer, myself, and half the crew.

Conversation during breakfast reverted to the recent flight up the Baltic, and in the adjoining compartment the graphophone was entertaining the crews to the latest jazz tunes, such as “The Wild, Wild Women.”

It might be interesting at this stage to give a complete list of the crew, showing their various duties:

OFFICERS

SHIP’S OFFICERS

Major G. H. Scott, A. F. C., Captain. Captain G. S. Greenland, 1st Officer. Second Lieutenant H. F. Luck, 2d Officer. Second Lieutenant J. D. Shotter, Engineer Officer. Brigadier-General E. M. Maitland, C. M. G., D. C. O., representing Air Ministry. Major J. E. M. Pritchard (Air Ministry). Lieutenant-Commander Z. Lansdowne, O. B. E., U. S. Naval Airship Service. Major G. G. H. Cooke, D. S. C., Navigating Officer. Lieutenant Guy Harris, Meteorological Officer. Second Lieutenant R. D. Durant, Wireless Officer. W. O. W. R. Mayes, Coxswain.

WARRANT OFFICERS AND MEN

ENGINEERS

Flight Sergeant Gent. Flight Sergeant Scull. Flight Sergeant Riplee. Sergeant Evenden. Sergeant Thirlwall. Corporal Cross. Lg. Air Craftsman Graham. Corporal Gray. Air Craftsman Parker. Air Craftsman Northeast. L. A. C. Mort.

RIGGERS

Flight Sergeant Robinson. Sergeant Watson. Corporal Burgess. Corporal Smith. L. A. C. Foreath. L. A. C. Browdie.

WIRELESS-TELEGRAPH OPERATORS

Corporal Powell. A. C. Edwards.

AIR MINISTRY SENDS GREETINGS

11 A. M.—Still ploughing our way through the fog at 1,300 feet. Sea completely hidden by clouds and no visibility whatsoever. Stopped forward and two aft engines, and now running on only two wing engines at 1,600 revolutions. These are giving us an air speed of 30 knots, or 33.6 miles per hour. This is the airship’s most efficient speed, as she only consumes on the two engines twenty-five gallons of petrol per hour.

Wind is east, seven miles per hour, and so we are making good forty miles per hour and resting three engines.

Cooke is now on top of the airship taking observations of the sun, using the cloud horizon with a sextant. The sun is visible to him but not to us, the top of the ship being eighty-five feet above us down here in the fore-central cabin.

Our position is reckoned to be latitude 55 degrees 10 minutes north and longitude 14 degrees 40 minutes west, which is equivalent to 400 miles from our starting-point at East Fortune and 200 miles out in the Atlantic from the northwest coast of Ireland.

* * * * *

We are in wireless touch with East Fortune, Clifden, on the west coast of Ireland, and Ponta Delgada, Azores, and messages wishing us good luck are received from Air Ministry, H. M. S. _Queen Elizabeth_, and others.

11.45 A. M.—Lunch—Excellent beef stew and potatoes, chocolate, and cold water.

The talk, as usual, was mainly “shop,” dealing with such problems as the distribution of air-pressure on the western side of the Atlantic, what winds were likely to be met with, what fog we should run into, the advantages of directional wireless for navigational purposes, cloud horizons, and the like.

Scott, Cooke, and Harris, in comparing their experiences and expounding their theories, were most interesting and illuminating.

12 NOON.—Watch off duty turned in for their routine four hours’ sleep before coming on for their next period of duty—only two hours in this case, as it is the first of the two dog-watches.

The sleeping arrangements consist of a hammock for each of the men off watch suspended from the main ridge girder of the triangular internal keel which runs from end to end of the ship. In this keel are situated the eighty-one petrol-tanks, each of seventy-one gallons’ capacity; also the living quarters for officers and men, and storing arrangements for lubricating-oil for the engines, water ballast, food, and drinking-water for the crew. The latter is quite a considerable item, as will be seen from the following table of weights:

Gallons Pounds Tons Petrol 4,900 35,300 15.8 Oil ... 2,070 .9 Water ... ... 3.0 Crew and baggage ... ... 4.0 Spares ... 550 .2 Drinking-water ... 800 .42 ———— Total 24.32

Life in the keel of a large, rigid airship is by no means unpleasant. There is very little noise or vibration except when one is directly over the power units—a total absence of wind and, except in the early hours of dawn, greater warmth than in the surrounding atmosphere.

Getting into one’s hammock is rather an acrobatic feat, especially if it is slung high, but this becomes easy with practice; preventing oneself from falling out is a thing one must be careful about in a service airship like the R-34.

There is only a thin outer cover of fabric on the under side of the keel on each side of the walking way, and the luckless individual who tips out of his hammock would in all probability break right through this and soon find himself in the Atlantic.

It is surprising the amount of exercise one can get on board an airship of this size. The keel is about 600 feet long, and one is constantly running about from one end to the other. There are also steps in a vertical ladder at the top of the ship for those who feel energetic or have duty up there. By the time it becomes one’s turn to go to bed one generally finds one is very sleepy, and the warmth of one’s sleeping-bag and hum of the engines soon send one to sleep.

3.15 P. M.—Sea now visible at intervals through the clouds—a deep blue in color with a big swell on. Our shadow on the water helps us to measure our drift angle, which both Scott and Cooke worked out to be 21 degrees. Running on the forward and two aft engines, resting the two wing engines. Speed—making forty-nine miles per hour.

Durant, the wireless officer, reports he has just been speaking to St. John’s, N. F.—Rather faint but quite clear signals. As we are still in touch with East Fortune and Clifden, and have been exchanging signals with the Azores since reaching the Irish coast, our communications seem to be quite satisfactory.

Remarkable rainbow effects on the clouds. One complete rainbow encircled the airship itself and the other, a smaller one, encircled the shadow. Both are very vivid in their coloring.

3.45 P. M.—Excellent tea consisting of bread and butter and green-gage jam, also two cups of scalding hot tea, which had been boiled over the exhaust-pipe cooker fitted to the forward engine.

SEE LITTLE OF OCEAN

Fruitarian cake was also tried for the first time—rather sickly to taste but very nourishing. The whole assisted by Miss Lee White on the gramophone. We would one and all give anything for a smoke. Greenland, the first officer of the ship, is vainly trying to discover the culprit who used his tooth-brush for stirring the mustard at lunch.

4.30 P. M.—Still in fog and low clouds and no sea visible. We have hardly seen any sign of the Atlantic since leaving the Irish coast, and we are beginning to wonder if we shall see it at all the whole way across.

5 P. M.—Tramp steamer S. S. _Ballygally Head_, outward bound from Belfast, destination Montreal, picked up our wireless on their Marconi spark set, which has a range of thirty miles only. She heard us but didn’t see us, as we were well above and completely hidden by the clouds. She gave her position as latitude 54 degrees 30 minutes north, longitude 18 degrees 20 minutes west, and reported as follows:

“Steering south 80 west true, wind north, barometer 30.10, overcast, clouds low.”

“(Signed) SUFFREN, _Master_.”

They were very surprised and most interested to hear we were R-34 bound for New York, and wished us every possible luck.

5.30 P. M.—Messages were received from both H. M. S. battle-cruisers _Tiger_ and _Renown_, which had been previously sent by the Admiralty out into the Atlantic to assist us with weather-reports and general observation. They reported respectively as follows:

H. M. S. _Tiger_.—“Position 36 degrees 50 minutes north, 36 degrees 50 minutes west, 1,027 millibars, falling slowly, thick fog.”

H. M. S. _Renown_.—“Position 60 degrees north, 25 west, 1,027 millibars, falling slowly, cloudy, visibility four miles.”

Harris’s deductions from these reports were to the effect that there was no steep gradient, and that therefore there was no likelihood of any strong wind in that part of the Atlantic.

SET CLOCK BACK HALF-HOUR

6 P. M.—Scott increases height to 2,000 feet, and at this height we find ourselves well over the clouds and with a bright-blue sky above us. The view is an enchanting one—as far as one can see a vast ocean of white fleecy clouds, ending in the most perfect cloud horizons.

Two particularly fine specimens of windy cirrus clouds, of which Pritchard promptly obtained photographs, appear on our port beam, also some “cirrus ventosus” clouds (little curly clouds like a blackcock’s tail-feathers), all of which Harris interprets as a first indication and infallible sign of a depression coming up from the south.

We hope that this depression, when it comes, may help us, provided we have crossed its path before it reaches us. If we can do this we may be helped along by the easterly wind on the northwesterly side of the depression.

It is interesting to note that as yet we have received no notice of this depression coming up from the south in any weather-reports.

6.40 P. M.—Put back clock one-half an hour to correct Greenwich mean time. Time now 6.10 P. M. Position: Latitude 53 degrees 50 minutes north; longitude 20 degrees west.

We have covered 610 sea-miles, measured in a direct line, in 17 hours, at an average speed of 36 knots, or 40 miles per hour. Depth of Atlantic at this point, 1,500 fathoms. At this rate, if all goes well and if that depression from the south doesn’t interfere, we should see St. John’s—if visible and not covered in fog as it usually is—about midnight to-morrow, July 3.

6.55 P. M.—Wireless message from Air Ministry via Clifden states:

“Conditions unchanged in British Isles. Anti-cyclone persistent in Eastern Atlantic—a new depression entering Atlantic from south.”

This confirms Harris’s forecast and is an admirable proof of the value of cloud forecasting.

SEA AND SKY INVISIBLE

7 P. M.—The clouds have risen to our height and we are now driving away through them with no signs of the sky above or the sea underneath. Scott reckons the wind is northeast by east and helping us slightly. Airship now very heavy owing to change in temperature and 12 degrees down by the stern. Running on all five engines at 1,600 revolutions, height 3,000 feet.

8 P. M.—We are just on top of the clouds, alternately in the sun and then plunging through thick banks of clouds. The sun is very low down on the western horizon and we are steering straight for it, making Pritchard at the elevators curse himself for not having brought tinted glasses. Ship now on an even keel.

8.30 P. M.—Scott decided to go down underneath the clouds and increases speed on all engines to 1,800 revolutions to do so. Dark, cold, and wet in the clouds, and we shut all windows.

SEA 1,500 FEET BELOW

We see the sea at 1,500 feet between patches of cloud. Rather bumpy.

We now find ourselves between two layers of clouds, the top layer 1,000 feet above us and the lower layer 500 feet below, with occasional glimpses of sea.

The sun is now setting and gradually disappears below the lower cloud horizon, throwing a wonderful pink glow on the white clouds in every direction. Course steered, 320 degrees. Course made good, 299 degrees. Air speed, 44 knots; speed made good, 55 miles per hour.

All through this first night in the Atlantic the ordinary airship routine of navigating, steering, and elevating, also maintaining the engines in smooth-running order, goes, watch and watch, as in the daytime.

The night is very dark. The airship, however, is lighted throughout, a much enlarged lighting system having been fitted. All instruments can be individually illuminated as required, and in case of failure at the lighting system all figures and indicators are radiomized.

LIGHTS NOT NEEDED

The radium paint used is so luminous that in most cases the lighting installation is unnecessary.

8.20 A. M., Thursday, July 3.—The clock has been put back another hour to correct our time to Greenwich mean time. Position: Longitude 35 degrees 60 minutes west; latitude 53 degrees north.

Cooke got position by observation on sun and a good cloud horizon, and considers it accurate to within thirty and forty miles.

Our position is over the west-bound steamship route from Cape Race to the Clyde and momentarily crossing the east-bound route from Belle Isle to Plymouth.

We are well over half-way between Ireland and Newfoundland and are back again on the great circle route, having been slightly to the south of it, owing to the drift effect of a northerly wind.

Good weather-report from St. John’s.

SPEAKS TO STEAMSHIP

12.45 P. M.—Durant is speaking S. S. _Canada_ on our spark wireless set, so there may be a chance of our seeing her shortly, as the sea is temporarily visible. The second wireless operator obtains his direction on our directional wireless so that we may know in what direction to look for her. All we know at the moment is that she is somewhere within 120 miles.

Captain David, in command, wishes us a safe voyage. We gaze through our glasses in her direction, but she is just over the horizon.

2 P. M.—Slight trouble with starboard amidships engine—cracked cylinder’s water-jacket. Shotter, always equal to the occasion, made a quick and safe repair with a piece of copper sheeting, and the entire supply of the ship’s chewing-gum had to be chewed by himself and two engineers before being applied.

4.30 P. M.—We are now on the Canadian summer route of steamers bound for the St. Lawrence via Belle Isle Strait and over the well-known Labrador current. There are already indications of these cold currents in the fog which hangs immediately above the surface of the water.

HARRIS HURT; NOT SERIOUSLY

Scott and Cooke spend much time at chart-table with protractors, dividers, stop-watches, and many navigational text-books, measuring angles of drift and calculating course made good.

Aerial navigation is more complicated than navigation on the surface of the sea, but there is no reason why when we know more about the air and its peculiarities it should not be made just as accurate.

5.00 P. M.—Harris unwisely shuts his hand on door of wireless cabin—painful but not serious. Flow of language not audible to me, as the forward engine happened to be running.

6 to 7 P. M.—We are gradually getting farther and farther into the shallow depression which was reported yesterday coming up from the South Atlantic. For the last four hours the sea has been rising and now the wind is south-southeast, forty-five miles an hour. Visibility only a half-mile. Very rough sea and torrents of rain. In spite of this the ship is remarkably steady.

CLIMBS THROUGH DEPRESSION

At 8 P. M. Scott decides to climb right through it, and we evidently came out over the top of it at 3,400 feet.

8.30 P. M.—We have now passed the centre of the depression, exactly as Harris foretold. The rain has ceased and we are travelling quite smoothly again.

To the west the clouds have lifted and we see some extraordinarily interesting sky—black, angry clouds giving place to clouds of a gray-mouse color, then a bright salmon-pink clear sky, changing lower down the horizon to darker clouds with a rich golden lining as the sun sinks below the surface. The sea is not visible, and is covered by a fluffy gray feather-bed of clouds, slightly undulating and extending as far as the eye can reach. The moon is just breaking through the black clouds immediately above it.

On the east we see the black, ominous depression from which we have just emerged, while away more to the south the cloud-bed over which we are passing seems to end suddenly and merge into the horizon.

VALUABLE METEOROLOGICAL DATA

We are getting some valuable meteorological data on this flight without a doubt, and each fresh phenomenon as it appears is instantly explained by the ever-alert Harris, who has a profound knowledge of his subject.

9 P. M.—One of the engineers has reported sick—complains of feverishness.

A stowaway has just been discovered, a cat smuggled on board by one of the crew for luck. It is a very remarkable fact that nearly every member of the crew has a mascot of some description, from the engineer officer, who wears one of his wife’s silk stockings as a muffler around his neck, to Major Scott, the captain, with a small gold charm called “Thumbs up.”

We have two carrier-pigeons on board, which it has been decided not to use. Anyway, whether we release them or not, they can claim to be the first two pigeons to fly the Atlantic.

SUNRISE

4.30 A. M., Friday, July 4—Wonderful sunrise—the different colors being the softest imaginable, just like a wash drawing.

7 A. M.—Height, 1,000 feet. Bright, blue sky above, thin fog partly obscuring the sea beneath us, sea moderate, big swell.

The fog-bank appears to end abruptly ten miles or so away toward the south, where the sea appears to be clear of fog and a very deep blue.

Standing out conspicuously in this blue patch of sea we see an enormous white iceberg. The sun is shining brightly on its steep sides, and we estimate it as roughly 300 yards square and 150 feet high. As these icebergs usually draw about six times as much water as their height, we wondered whether she was aground, as the depth of water at that point is only about 150 fathoms.

Another big iceberg can just be seen in the dim distance. These are the only two objects of any kind, sort, or description we have as yet seen on this journey.

8.15 A. M.

OVER LARGE ICE-FIELD

Fog still clinging to the surface of the water; water evidently must be very cold. Extraordinary crimpy, wavelike appearance of clouds rolling up from the north underneath it. Harris has never seen this before. Pritchard took photograph.

On port beam there is a long stretch of clear-blue sea sandwiched in between wide expanses of fog on either side, looking just like a blue river flowing between two wide snow-covered banks. Cause—a warm current of water which prevents cloud from hanging over it. This well illustrated the rule that over cold currents of water the clouds will cling to the surface.

9 A. M.—We are now over a large ice-field and the sea is full of enormous pieces of ice—small bergs in themselves. The ice is blue-green under water, with frozen snow on top.

A message reaches us from the Governor of Newfoundland.

“To General Maitland, officers and crew, R-34:

“On behalf of Newfoundland I greet you as you pass us on your enterprising journey.

“HARRIS, Governor.”

Replied to as follows:

“To Governor of Newfoundland:

“Major Scott, officers and crew, R-34, send grateful thanks for kind message with which I beg to associate myself.”

“GENERAL MAITLAND.”

12.50 P. M.

LAND SIGHTED BY SCOTT

Land in sight. First spotted by Scott on starboard beam. A few small rocky islands visible for a minute or two through the clouds and instantly swallowed up again. Altered course southwest to have a closer look at them. Eventually made them out to be the north-west coast-line of Trinity Bay, Newfoundland.

Our time from Rathlin Island—the last piece of land we crossed above the north coast of Ireland—to north coast of Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, is exactly fifty-nine hours.

We are crossing Newfoundland at 1,500 feet in thick fog, which gradually clears as we get farther inland. A very rocky country with large forests and lakes, and for the most part no traces of habitation anywhere.

Message from St. John’s to say that Raynham was up in his machine to greet us. We replied, giving our position.

3 P. M.—Again enveloped in dense fog. Message from H. M. S. _Sentinel_ giving us our position. We are making good thirty-eight or forty knots and heading for Fortune Harbor.

FRENCH FLAG DIPPED

4.30 P. M.—We have passed out of Fortune Harbor, with its magnificent scenery and azure-blue sea dotted with little white sailing ships, and are now over the two French islands, Miquelon and St. Pierre, and steering a course for Halifax, Nova Scotia. The French flag was flying at St. Pierre and was duly dipped as we passed over.

7.15 P. M.—Passed over tramp S. S. _Seal_ bound for Sydney, Nova Scotia, from St. John’s, the first we have seen. 8.15 P. M.—Clear weather. Sea moderate. Making good thirty miles per hour on three engines. Northern point of Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, Just coming into sight. Lighthouse four flashes. We should make Halifax 2.30 A. M. to-morrow.

Saturday, July 5, 2.30 A. M.—Very dark, clear night. Lights of Whitehaven show up brightly on our starboard beam and we make out the lights of a steamer passing us to the east. Strong head wind against us. Making no appreciable headway.

LANSDOWNE ASKS FOR DESTROYER

Lieutenant-Commander Lansdowne, United States Naval Airship Service, sends signal on behalf of R-34 to United States authorities at Washington and Boston to send destroyer to take us in tow in case we should run out of petrol during the night.

The idea is we would then be towed by the destroyer during the hours of darkness, and at dawn cast off and fly to Long Island under our own power. Let us hope this won’t be necessary.

It is now raining and foggy, which is the kind of weather that suits us now, as rain generally means no wind.

3 P. M.—Passed Haute Island in Fundy Bay.

3.30 P. M.—For some little while past there had been distinct evidences of electrical disturbances. Atmospherics became very bad and a severe thunder-storm was seen over the Canadian coast, moving south down the coast. Scott turned east off his course to dodge the storm, putting on all engines. In this, fortunately for us, he was successful, and we passed through the outer edge of it. We had a very bad time, indeed, and it is quite the worst experience from a weather point of view that any of us have yet experienced in the air.

WONDERFUL CLOUDS PHOTOGRAPHED

During the storm some wonderful specimens of cumulo-mammatus were seen and photographed. These clouds always indicate a very highly perturbed state of atmosphere and look rather like a bunch of grapes. The clouds drooped into small festoons.

7.30 P. M.—We are now in clear weather again and have left Nova Scotia well behind us and are heading straight for New York.

## Particularly fine electrical-disturbance type of sunset.

9.30 P. M.—Another thunder-storm. Again we have to change our course to avoid it, and as every gallon of petrol is worth its weight in gold, it almost breaks our hearts to have to lengthen the distance to get clear of these storms.

July 6, Sunday, 4 A. M.—Sighted American soil at Chatham.

4.25 A. M.—South end of Mahoney Island. Scott is wondering whether petrol will allow him to go to New York or whether it would not be more prudent to land at Montauk.

5.30 A. M.—Passing over Martha’s Vineyard—a lovely island and beautifully wooded. Scott decided he could just get through to our landing-field at Hazelhurst Field, but that there would not be enough petrol to fly over New York. Very sad, but no alternative. We will fly over New York on start of our return journey on Tuesday night, weather and circumstances permitting.

Landed 1.54 P. M. Greenwich mean time, or 9.54 A. M. U. S. A. summer time, at Hazelhurst Field, Long Island.

Total time on entire voyage—108 hours, 12 minutes.

APPENDIX I

UNITED STATES AIRCRAFT AND ENGINE PRODUCTION FOR THE UNITED STATES AIR SERVICE

The best rapid survey of the organization of the United States Air Service and the part which it played in the Great War, as well as statistics touching upon the materials used in aircraft production, the number of planes and engines made, and also the number of machines used for training purposes, and actually put into service at the front, is contained in the following extracts from the reports of Secretary Baker, Justice Charles E. Hughes, General Pershing, and Major-General William L. Kenly.

SECRETARY BAKER’S AIR SERVICE REPORT

In his annual report for 1918, released December 5, the Secretary of War reported on the Air Service as follows:

AIR SERVICE

ORGANIZATION

The Aviation Section of the Signal Corps, which had charge of the production and operation of military aircraft at the outbreak of the war, was created on July 18, 1914. To assist in outlining America’s aviation program, the Aircraft Production Board was appointed by the Council of National Defense in May, 1917. In October, 1917, the Aircraft Board, acting in an advisory capacity to the Signal Corps and the Navy, was created by act of Congress. In April, 1918, the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps was separated into two distinct departments, Mr. John D. Ryan being placed in charge of aircraft production and Brig.-Gen. W. L. Kenly in charge of military aeronautics. Under the powers granted in the Overman Bill, a further reorganization was effected by Presidential order in May, 1918, whereby aircraft production and military aeronautics were completely divorced from the Signal Corps and established in separate bureaus. This arrangement continued until August, when the present air service, under Mr. Ryan as Second Assistant Secretary of War, was established, combining under one head the administration of aviation personnel and equipment.

RAW MATERIALS SECURED

One of the most important problems which confronted the aircraft organization from the start was the obtaining of sufficient spruce and fir for ourselves and our allies. To facilitate the work, battalions were organized under military discipline and placed in the forests of the western coast. A government plant and kiln were erected to cut and dry lumber before shipment, thus saving valuable freight space. To November 11, 1918, the date the armistice was signed, the total quantity of spruce and fir shipped amounted to approximately 174,000,000 feet, of which more than two-thirds went to the Allies.

The shortage of linen stimulated the search for a substitute possessing the qualities necessary in fabric used for covering aeroplane wings. Extensive experiments were made with a cotton product which proved so successful that it is now used for all types of training and service planes.

To meet the extensive demands for a high-grade lubricating oil, castor beans were imported from India and a large acreage planted in this country. Meanwhile research work with mineral oils was carried on intensively, with the result that a lubricant was developed which proved satisfactory in practically every type of aeroplane motor, except the rotary motor, in which castor oil is still preferred.

PRODUCTION OF TRAINING PLANES AND ENGINES

When war was declared the United States possessed less than 300 training planes, all of inferior types. Deliveries of improved models were begun as early as June, 1917. Up to November 11, 1918, over 5,300 had been produced, including 1,600 of a type which was temporarily abandoned on account of unsatisfactory engines.

Planes for advanced training purposes were produced in quantity early in 1918; up to the signing of the armistice about 2,500 were delivered. Approximately the same number was purchased overseas for training the units with the Expeditionary Force.

Several new models, to be used for training pursuit pilots, are under development.

Within three months after the declaration of war extensive orders were placed for two types of elementary training engines. Quantity production was reached within a short time. In all about 10,500 have been delivered, sufficient to constitute a satisfactory reserve for some time to come.

Of the advanced training engines, the three important models were of foreign design, and the success achieved in securing quantity production is a gratifying commentary on the manufacturing ability of this country. The total production up to November 11 was approximately 5,200.

PRODUCTION OF SERVICE PLANES

The experience acquired during the operations on the Mexican border demonstrated the unsuitability of the planes then used by the American Army. Shortly after the declaration of war, a commission was sent abroad to select types of foreign service planes to be put into production in this country. We were confronted with the necessity of redesigning these models to take the Liberty motor, as foreign engine production was insufficient to meet the great demands of the Allies. The first successful type of plane to come into quantity production was a modification of the British De Haviland 4—an observation and day bombing plane. The first deliveries were made in February, 1918. In May, production began to increase rapidly, and by October a monthly output of 1,200 had been reached. Approximately 1,900 were shipped to the Expeditionary Force prior to the termination of hostilities.

The Handley Page night bomber, used extensively by the British, was redesigned to take two Liberty motors. Parts for approximately 100 planes have been shipped to England for assembly.

Table 20 shows the status of American production of service planes by quarterly periods.

Table 20.—Service planes produced in the United States in 1918:

Jan. 31 to April 1 to July 1 to Oct. 1 to Name of plane Mar. 31 June 30 Sept. 30 Nov. 8 Total

De Haviland 4 14 515 1,165 1,493 3,187 Handley Page ... ... 100 1 101

A total of 2,676 pursuit, observation, and day bombing planes, with spare engines, were delivered to the Expeditionary Force by the French Government for the equipment of our forces overseas.

Considerable progress was made in the adaptation of other types of foreign planes to the American-made engines, and in the development of new designs. The U. S. D. 9A, embodying some improvements over the De Haviland 4, was expected to come into quantity production in the near future. The Bristol Fighter, a British plane, was redesigned to take the Liberty 8 and the Hispano-Suiza 300 h. p. engines. A force of Italian engineers and skilled workmen was brought to America to redesign the Caproni night bomber to take three Liberty motors, and successful trial flights of this machine have been made.

Several new models are under experimentation. Chief of these is the Le Père two-seater fighter, designed around the Liberty motor, the performance of which is highly satisfactory. Several of these planes were sent overseas to be tested at the front.

PRODUCTION OF SERVICE ENGINES

In view of the rapid progress in military aeronautics, the necessity for the development of a high-powered motor adaptable to American methods of quantity production was early recognized. The result of the efforts to meet this need was the Liberty motor—America’s chief contribution to aviation, and one of the great achievements of the war. After this motor emerged from the experimental stage, production increased with great rapidity, the October output reaching 4,200, or nearly one-third of the total production up to the signing of the armistice. The factories engaged in the manufacture of this motor, and their total production to November 8, are listed in Table 21.

Table 21.—Production of Liberty motor to November 8, 1918, by factories:

Packard Motor Car Co. 4,654 Lincoln Motor Corporation 3,720 Ford Motor Corporation 3,025 General Motors Corporation 1,554 Nordyke & Marmon Co. 433 ————— Total 13,386

Of this total, 9,834 were high-compression, or army type, and 3,572 low-compression, or navy type, the latter being used in seaplanes and large night bombers.

In addition to those installed in planes, about 3,500 Liberty engines were shipped overseas, to be used as spares and for delivery to the Allies.

Other types of service engines, including the Hispano-Suiza 300 h. p., the Bugatti, and the Liberty 8-cylinder, were under development when hostilities ceased. The Hispano-Suiza 180 h. p. had already reached quantity production. Nearly 500 engines of this type were produced, about half of which were shipped to France and England for use in foreign-built pursuit planes.

Table 22 gives a résumé of the production of service engines by quarterly periods:

Table 22.—Production of service engines in 1918.

Jan. 1 to Apr. 1 to July 1 to Oct. 1 to Name of engine Mar. 31 June 30 Sept. 30 Nov. 8 Total Liberty 12, Army 122 1,493 4,116 4,093 9,824 Liberty 12, Navy 142 633 1,710 1,087 3,572 Hispano-Suiza 180 h. p. ... ... 185 284 469

IMPROVEMENT IN INSTRUMENTS AND ACCESSORIES

Few facilities existed for the manufacture of many of the delicate instruments and intricate mechanisms going into the equipment of every battle-plane. The courage and determination with which these most difficult problems were met and solved will form one of the bright pages in the archives of American industry.

One of the most important outgrowths of the research work which the war stimulated was the development of voice command in formation flying by means of wireless devices. The great significance of this invention will be appreciated when it is realized that the leader of a formation has heretofore been dependent on signals for conveying instructions to the individual units of the squadron.

TRAINING OF PERSONNEL

After the declaration of war the construction of training fields proceeded with such rapidity that the demand for training equipment greatly exceeded the output. Since the latter part of 1917, however, the supply of elementary training planes and engines has been more than sufficient to meet the demands, while the situation as regards certain types of planes for advanced training has greatly improved. Approximately 17,000 cadets were graduated from ground schools; 8,602 reserve military aviators were graduated from elementary training schools; and 4,028 aviators completed the course in advanced training provided in this country. Pending the provision of adequate equipment for specialized advanced training, the policy was adopted of sending students overseas for a short finishing course before going into

## action. The shortage of skilled mechanics with sufficient knowledge of

aeroplanes and motors was met by the establishment of training schools from which over 14,000 mechanics were graduated.

At the cessation of hostilities there were in training as aviators in the United States 6,528 men, of whom 22 per cent were in ground schools, 37 per cent in elementary schools, and 41 per cent in advanced training schools. The number of men in training as aviator mechanics was 2,154.

FORCES AT THE FRONT

Early in 1918 the first squadrons composed of American personnel provided with French planes appeared at the front. The number was increased as rapidly as equipment could be obtained. On September 30, the date of the latest available information, there were 32 squadrons at the front; of these 15 were pursuit, 13 observation, and 4 bombing. The first squadron equipped with American planes reached the front in the latter part of July.

LOSSES IN BATTLE AND IN TRAINING

Though the casualties in the air force were small as compared with the total strength, the casualty rate of the flying personnel at the front was somewhat above the artillery and infantry rates. The reported battle fatalities up to October 24 were 128 and accident fatalities overseas 244. The results of Allied and American experience at the front indicate that two aviators lose their lives in accidents for each aviator killed in battle. The fatalities at training fields in the United States to October 24th were 262.

[A later official report gave the total U. S. aviators lost in combat as 171, and those killed by accident as 554.]

COMMISSIONED AND ENLISTED STRENGTH

On America’s entrance into the war, the personnel of the Air Service consisted of 65 officers and 1,120 men. When the armistice was signed the total strength was slightly over 190,000, comprising about 20,000 commissioned officers, over 6,000 cadets under training, and 164,000 enlisted men. In addition to the cadets under training, the flying personnel was composed of about 11,000 officers, of whom approximately 42 per cent were with the Expeditionary Force when hostilities ceased. The Air Service constituted slightly over 5 per cent of the total strength of the Army.

GENERAL PERSHING’S REPORT

Secretary Baker’s report included a communication received from General Pershing in which he commented on aircraft and the Air Service as follows:

“Our entry into the war found us with few of the auxiliaries necessary for its conduct in the modern sense. Among our most important deficiencies in material were artillery, aviation, and tanks. In order to meet our requirements as rapidly as possible, we accepted the offer of the French Government to provide us with the necessary artillery equipment.

“In aviation we were in the same situation, and here again the French Government came to our aid until our own aviation program should be under way. We obtained from the French the necessary planes for training our personnel, and they have provided us with a total of 2,676 pursuit, observation, and bombing planes. The first aeroplanes received from home arrived in May, and altogether we have received 1,379. The first American squadron completely equipped by American production, including aeroplanes, crossed the German lines on August 7, 1918.

“It should be fully realized that the French Government has always taken a most liberal attitude and has been most anxious to give us every possible assistance in meeting our deficiencies in these as well as in other respects. Our dependence upon France for artillery, aviation, and tanks was, of course, due to the fact that our industries had not been exclusively devoted to military production. All credit is due our own manufacturers for their efforts to meet our requirements, as at the time the armistice was signed we were able to look forward to the early supply of practically all our necessities from our own factories.”

THE HUGHES REPORT

The committee appointed by the President to investigate the charges of misappropriation of funds reported in November, 1918, on the number of training planes and engines built. Justice Chas. E. Hughes was chairman of the committee:

AEROPLANES AND ENGINES DELIVERED DURING FISCAL YEAR ENDING JUNE 30, 1918

The reported deliveries of Aeroplanes and Engines made prior to June 30, 1918, are as follows:

AEROPLANES

Elementary Training Planes JN4-D 2972 SJ-1 1600 —— 4572

Advanced Training Planes JN4-H Training 402 Gunnery 321 JN6-HB 100 S4-B 100 S4-C 73 Penguin 50 —— 1046

Combat and Bombing Planes DeH-4 529 Bristol Fighter 24 —— 553 —— Total planes 6171

ENGINES

Elementary Training OX-5 5474 A7a 2188 —— 7662

Advanced Training Hispano 150 H. P. 2188 Gnome 100 ” 209 Le Rhone 80 ” 68 Lawrence 28 ” 114 —— 2579

Combat and Bombing U. S. 12 Cylinder (Army Type) 1615 U. S. 12 Cylinder (Navy Type) 775 Hispano 300 H. P. 2 ———— 2392

TOTAL ENGINES = 12633

NUMBER OF MACHINES AT THE FRONT

Report prepared by Statistics Branch, General Staff, War Department, March 22, 1919, concerning the 628 De Haviland 4 planes put in service at front before armistice.

The following table and diagram shows the status of production, shipments and use overseas of De Haviland 4 service planes at the date of the armistice:

Per cent of total Number production Produced 3,227 100 Floated 1,885 58 Received at French ports (_a_) 1,185 37 Assembled overseas 1,025 32 Put into service overseas 983 30 Put into service at front 628 19 In commission at front (_b_) 457 14 (_a_) To November 1, 1918. (_b_) November 3, 1918.

Value of contracts cancelled and suspended exceed $480,000,000.

The following is a summary of the value of cancellations and suspensions of contracts to March 19, 1919:

Per cent Value of total Engines and spare parts $250,409,982 52 Airplanes and spare parts 167,554,386 35 Chemicals and chemical plants 19,852,370 4 Instruments and accessories 13,832,902 3 Balloons and supplies 10,071,035 2 Fabrics, lumber and metals 7,968,324 2 Miscellaneous 11,041,132 2 ———————— Total $480,730,131

THE SIXTY-FOUR AMERICAN ACES

The following official list gives the status of the sixty-four American aces—that is, aviators who had each downed five or more enemies by the time hostilities ceased:

Captain Edward V. Rickenbacker of Columbus, Ohio, famous as an automobile driver, was the premier “Ace” of the American air force in France, having twenty-six enemy planes to his credit.

First Lieutenant Frank Luke, Jr., of Phœnix, Ariz., who was killed in

## action May 19, 1918, was second on the list of “Aces,” with eighteen

victories to his credit, and Major Victor Raoul Lufbery of Wallingford, Conn., also killed in action May 19, 1918, was third, with seventeen victories. Before joining the American Army, Major Lufbery was a member of the Lafayette Escadrille.

Captain Reed G. Landis of Chicago, son of Judge Landis, and First Lieutenant David E. Putnam, of Brookline, Mass., who was killed in

## action, had twelve victories each. The other “Aces,” with the number of

victories credited to each, follow:

First Lieutenant Fields Kinley, Gravette, Ark., 10. First Lieutenant G. A. Vaughn, Jr., 341 Washington Avenue, Brooklyn, 10.

First Lieutenant J. M. Swaab, Philadelphia, 10.

First Lieutenant T. G. Cassady, 9.

First Lieutenant C. E. Wright, Cambridge, Mass., 9.

First Lieutenant W. P. Erwin, Chicago, 9.

Captain E. W. Springs, Lancaster, Penn., 9.

First Lieutenant H. R. Clay, Jr., Fort Worth, Texas, 8.

Major J. A. Meissner, 45 Lenox Road, Brooklyn, N. Y., 8.

Captain Hamilton Coolidge (deceased), Boston, Mass., 8.

Captain G. De F. Larner, Washington, D. C., 8.

First Lieutenant P. F. Baer, Fort Wayne, Ind., 8 (captured May 22, 1918).

First Lieutenant F. O. D. Hunter, Savannah, Ga., 8.

First Lieutenant W. W. White, 541 Lexington Avenue, New York City, 8.

Second Lieutenant Clinton Jones, San Francisco, Cal., 8.

Captain R. M. Chambers, Memphis, Tenn., 7.

First Lieutenant Harvey Cook, Toledo, Ohio, 7.

First Lieutenant L. C. Holden, 103 Park Avenue, New York City, 7.

First Lieutenant K. H. Schoen (deceased), Indianapolis, Ind., 7.

First Lieutenant W. A. Robertson, Fort Smith, Ark., 7.

First Lieutenant L. J. Rummell, 798 South 11th Street, Newark, N. J., 7.

First Lieutenant L. A. Hamilton (deceased), Burlington, Vt., or Pittsfield, Mass., 7.

First Lieutenant J. O. Creech, Washington, D. C., 6.

Second Lieutenant Howard Burdick, 175 Remsen Street, Brooklyn, N. Y., 6.

First Lieutenant C. L. Bissell, Kane, Penn., 6.

Major H. E. Hartney, Saskatoon, Canada, 6.

Captain Douglass Campbell, Mount Hamilton, Cal., 6.

Captain J. C. Vasconcelles, Denver, Col., 6.

Captain E. G. Tobin, San Antonio, Texas, 6.

First Lieutenant E. P. Curtis, Rochester, N. Y., 6.

First Lieutenant Sumner Sewell, no address, 6.

First Lieutenant R. A. O’Neill, Nogales, Ariz., 6.

First Lieutenant Donald Hudson, Kansas City, Mo., 6.

First Lieutenant M. K. Guthrie, Mobile, Ala., 6.

First Lieutenant W. H. Stovall, Stovall, Miss., 6.

First Lieutenant J. D. Beane (missing in action), 6.

First Lieutenant A. R. Brooks, Framingham, Mass., 6.

First Lieutenant R. O. Lindsay, Madison, N. C., 6.

First Lieutenant Martinus Stenseth, Twin City, Minn., 6.

Second Lieutenant F. K. Hays, Chicago, Ill., 6.

First Lieutenant H. C. Klotts, no address, 5.

Lieutenant-Colonel William Thaw, Pittsburgh, Penn., 5.

Major D. McK. Peterson, Honesdale, Penn., 5.

Captain H. R. Buckley, Agawam, Mass., 5.

Major C. J. Biddle, Philadelphia, Penn., 5.

First Lieutenant James Knowles, Cambridge, Mass., 5.

First Lieutenant J. A. Healey, Jersey City, N. J., 5.

First Lieutenant Innis Potter, no address, 5.

First Lieutenant F. M. Symonds, 20 West 8th Street, New York City, 5.

First Lieutenant J. F. Wehner (deceased), 124 East 28th Street, New York, 5.

First Lieutenant J. J. Sereley, Chicago, 5.

First Lieutenant E. M. Haight, Astoria, N. Y., 5.

First Lieutenant H. H. George, Niagara Falls, N. Y., 5.

First Lieutenant G. W. Furlow, Rochester, Minn., 5.

First Lieutenant A. E. Esterbrook, Fort Flagler, Wash., 5.

First Lieutenant B. V. Baucom, Milford, Texas, 5.

Second Lieutenant Harold McArthur, no address, 5.

Second Lieutenant J. S. Owens, Baltimore, 5.

Second Lieutenant J. O. Donaldson, Washington, D. C., 5.

OTHER AMERICANS WHO ARE CREDITED WITH BRINGING DOWN ONE OR MORE PLANES

Lieutenant Frank L. Baylies, New Bedford, Mass. (killed June 20, 1918, in the British Air Service), 12.

Adjutant E. C. Parsons, Springfield, Mass., 4.

Lieutenant H. Clay Ferguson, wounded March 12, 1918, 4.

Captain J. Norman Hall, Lafayette Escadrille and A. E. F., Colfax, Ia., wounded and captured, May 7, 1918, 4.

Lieutenant Joseph C. Stehlin, Lafayette Escadrille, Brooklyn, N. Y., 3.

Lieutenant Norman Prince (organizer of Lafayette Escadrille), Beverly Farms, Mass., killed October 15, 1916, 3.

Lieutenant Kiffin Yates Rockwell, Lafayette Escadrille, Asheville, N.C., killed September 23, 1916, 4.

Lieutenant Walter Rheno, Martha’s Vineyard, Mass., 3.

Lieutenant Walter Lovell, Lafayette Escadrille, Concord, Mass., 3.

Lieutenant Thomas Hitchcock, Jr., Lafayette Escadrille, Roslyn, N. Y., captured March 10, 1918. He escaped later. 3.

Lieutenant Bert Hall, Lafayette Escadrille, Bowling Green, Ky., retired December, 1916, 3.

George Turnure, Lenox, Mass., third on July 17, 1918, 3.

Lieutenant Hugh Dugan, Chicago, Royal Flying Corps, captured April 6, 1918, 2.

Lieutenant G. de Freest Larner, Washington, D. C., 2.

Lieutenant Andrew C. Campbell, Chicago, missing, 2.

Captain Phelps Collins, Detroit, killed March 18, 1918, 2.

Lieutenant Didier Masson, New York, Lafayette Escadrille, 2.

Christopher Ford, New York, 2.

Lieutenant W. A. Wellman, Cambridge, Mass., 2.

Sergeant James E. Connelly, Philadelphia, Pa., 2.

Sergeant Victor Chapman, Lafayette Escadrille, killed June 23, 1916, 2.

Sergeant Vernon Booth, Chicago, 2.

Sergeant Austin B. Crehore, Westfield, New York, 1.

Lieutenant Willis Haviland, Minneapolis, Minn., 1.

Lieutenant Harry Sweet Jones, Hartford, Pa., 1.

Lieutenant Charles C. Johnson, St. Louis, Mo., 1.

Captain Robert L. Rockwell, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1.

Lieutenant Stuart Walcott, Washington, killed December 14, 1917, 1.

Lieutenant Alan F. Winslow, Rive Forest, Ill., 1.

Lieutenant Edgar Tobin, San Antonio, on July 11, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Charles T. Merrick, Eldora, Iowa, 1.

Lieutenant Alexander O. Craig, New York, in Italy, on July 5, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Sumner Sewell, Bath, Me., above Toul, on June 3, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant William J. Hoover, Hartsville, S. C., on July 2, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Alfred A. Grant, Denton, Texas, on July 2, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant John McArthur, Buffalo, N. Y., on July 2, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Tyler Cook Bronson, New York, on July 1, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Charles W. Chapman on May 8, 1918. Both he and victim fell in flames, 1.

Captain Kenneth Marr, on May 15, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Henry Grendelass, 1.

Lieutenant Edward Buford, Jr., Nashville, Tenn., on May 22, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant William H. Taylor, New York, on May 21, 1918, 1.

Ensign Stephen Potter, Boston, Mass., killed April 25, 1918, 1.

Lieutenant Walter Avery, Columbus, Ohio, brought down and captured Captain Menckhoff, the German ace, who had 34 victories on July 25, 1918, 1.

CITATIONS AND DECORATIONS OF MEMBERS OF THE U. S. ARMY AIR SERVICE

DISTINGUISHED SERVICE CROSS

Gardner Philip Allen, First Lieutenant, C. A. C. Flynn L. A. Andrew, First Lieutenant. David H. Backus, First Lieutenant. Herbert B. Bartholf, First Lieutenant. Erwin R. Bleckley, Second Lieutenant. Samuel C. Bowman, Second Lieutenant. Hugh D. G. Broomfield, First Lieutenant. John R. Castleman, First Lieutenant. Weir H. Cook, First Lieutenant. Hamilton Coolidge (deceased), Captain. Justin P. Follette, First Lieutenant. William F. Frank, First Lieutenant. Harold E. Goettler (deceased), Second Lieutenant. Andre Gundelach (deceased), First Lieutenant. D. C. Hunter, First Lieutenant. John N. Jeffers, First Lieutenant. Samuel Kaye, Jr., First Lieutenant. Willburt E. Kinsley, Second Lieutenant. James Knowles, First Lieutenant. G. DeFreest Larner, First Lieutenant. William O. Lowe, Second Lieutenant, U. S. M. C. Edward Russell Moore, First Lieutenant. Edward M. Morris, Second Lieutenant. Stephen H. Noyes, Captain. Alfred B. Patterson, Jr., First Lieutenant. Britton Polley, First Lieutenant. Charles P. Porter, Second Lieutenant. Clearton H. Reynolds, Captain. Leslie J. Rummell, First Lieutenant. Karl J. Schoen (deceased), First Lieutenant. Richard B. Shelby, First Lieutenant. John Y. Stokes, Jr., First Lieutenant. William H. Stovall, First Lieutenant. William H. Vail, First Lieutenant. Pennington H. Way (deceased), Second Lieutenant. Joseph F. Wehner, First Lieutenant. Chester E. Wright, First Lieutenant.

LEGION OF HONOR—FRENCH

(COMMANDER)

Charles T. Menoher, Major-General. William Mitchell, Brigadier-General.

CROIX DE GUERRE—FRENCH

Thomas J. Abernathy, Second Lieutenant. James A. Healy, First Lieutenant. Arthur H. Jones, First Lieutenant. Charles T. Menoher, Major-General. Ralph A. O’Neill, First Lieutenant. Charles P. Porter, Second Lieutenant. Kenneth L. Porter, Second Lieutenant. Joseph C. Raible, Jr., First Lieutenant. Louis C. Simon, Jr., First Lieutenant.

ITALIAN CITATIONS

James P. Hanley, Jr., First Lieutenant. George C. Hering, First Lieutenant. William P. Shelton, First Lieutenant. Norman Sweetser, First Lieutenant. Emory E. Watchorn, First Lieutenant. Frederick K. Weyerhaeuser, First Lieutenant.

FRENCH CITATIONS

Valentine J. Burger, Second Lieutenant. Alexander T. Grier, Second Lieutenant. Horace A. Lake, Second Lieutenant.

CROCE AL MERITO DI GUERRA—ITALIAN

James L. Bahl, First Lieutenant. Raymond P. Baldwin, First Lieutenant. Arthur M. Beach, First Lieutenant. Allen W. Bevin, First Lieutenant. Gilbert P. Bogart, First Lieutenant. Arthur F. Clement, First Lieutenant. William G. Cochran, First Lieutenant. De Witt Coleman, Jr., First Lieutenant. Kenneth G. Collins, First Lieutenant. Alexander M. Craig, First Lieutenant. Herbert C. Dobbs, Jr., First Lieutenant. Edmund A. Donnan, First Lieutenant. Norton Downs, Jr., First Lieutenant. Arthur D. Farquhar, First Lieutenant. Harry S. Kinkenstaedt, First Lieutenant. Willis S. Fitch, First Lieutenant. Donald G. Frost, First Lieutenant. William O. Frost, First Lieutenant. James P. Hanley, Jr., First Lieutenant. Spencer L. Hart, Second Lieutenant. George C. Hering, First Lieutenant. Wallace Hoggson, First Lieutenant. Gosta A. Johnson, First Lieutenant. James Kennedy, Second Lieutenant. LeRoy D. Kiley, First Lieutenant. Herman F. Kreuger, First Lieutenant. Fiorello H. LaGuardia, Major. Paton MacGilvary, First Lieutenant. Oble Mitchell, First Lieutenant. William H. Potthoff, First Lieutenant. Aubrey G. Russel, First Lieutenant. William B. Shelton, First Lieutenant. Norman Sweetser, First Lieutenant. Norman Terry, Second Lieutenant. Emory E. Watchorn, First Lieutenant. Frederick K. Weyerhaeuser, First Lieutenant. Warren Wheeler, First Lieutenant. Alfred S. R. Wilson, First Lieutenant. Warren S. Wilson, First Lieutenant.

REPORT OF THE DIRECTOR OF MILITARY AERONAUTICS

WAR DEPARTMENT,

OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR OF MILITARY AERONAUTICS,

_November 3, 1918._

SIR: I have the honor to submit herewith the annual report of the Division of Military Aeronautics for the fiscal year ended June 30, 1918. Though the Division of Military Aeronautics was created only on April 24, 1917, it was agreed that the duties intrusted to it and previously carried out by the Signal Corps should be covered in this report in order to present a continuous story of the development of the personnel, training, and organizing phases of the present Air Service. Also it should be pointed out that operations on the front in France have been left largely to whatever report the American Expeditionary Force may deem wise.

The fiscal year 1917-18 saw aviation develop from a wholly subsidiary branch of the Army as the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps to a position of extreme and decisive importance as the Air Service, directly under the Chief of Staff. From the most insignificant beginnings it came within the year to be one of America’s major efforts in the war.

This is all the more surprising when America’s previous backwardness in aviation is considered. This country has stood practically still in aerial progress, while the war in Europe brought about an extraordinary advance. From all this the United States was entirely shut off up to the time it abandoned neutrality. So little exact knowledge was available that the first American planes to go with the expedition into Mexico in March, 1916, were all rendered useless in accidents within a short time of arrival. There was practically no aviation technique here comparable to Europe’s, almost negligible manufacturing facilities, not a hundred trained flyers, and only the most rudimentary facilities for training. Moreover, no one had any adequate appreciation of the intricacy and skill required in the making of either an aeroplane or the training of a pilot.

As against this stagnation Europe’s progress in two and one-half years of war had been tremendous. The first planes to go to the front in 1914 had been few in number, unequipped with radio, machine guns, bombs, or photographic apparatus, and entirely unproved in military value. Their extraordinary success, however, in disclosing the size of the German concentration in Belgium at once brought them into a position of great importance. Very shortly radio was installed to replace signaling by dropping tinsel or making curious evolutions; the pistols of the pilots gave way to machine guns; the easy-going system of dropping bombs over the side was replaced by regular bombing planes, and the occasional taking of photographs by an intricate system of picturing every mile of the front. Engine power increased to 200, 300, 400, 500 horse power; huge planes with large carrying capacity were being developed for night-bombing; and operations were taking place by whole squadrons in various air strata—light, single-seater scouts around 15,000 to 20,000 feet, two-seater day bombers around 9,000 feet, and photographic and observation planes around 6,000 feet.

In contrast to all this development the United States at the time of its entry into the war stood very little ahead of where it had been before the world war broke out. Aviation, both in its personnel and its equipment, was included in that part of the Signal Corps known as the Aviation Section, which had been established by Congress July 18, 1914. Its chief was Maj. Gen. George O. Squier, who after four years as military attaché in London, had been put in charge of the Aviation Section in May, 1916, and made Chief Signal Officer on February 14, 1917, continuing to have charge of aviation through nearly the whole of the fiscal year. On April 6, 1917, the total assets on hand consisted of 65 officers, 1,120 men, two small flying fields, less than 300 very second-rate training planes, practically no manufacturing facilities, and only the most meagre technical information as to Europe’s startling developments.

The original American war program, based on an army of a million men, made aviation but a relatively insignificant part of the general military forces. This program, which represented the view of the General Staff before the arrival of the foreign missions, was met by two appropriations, $10,800,000 on May 12, 1917, and $43,450,000 on June 15, many times larger than any appropriations ever before made.

The British and French missions, however, arriving the last part of April, completely revolutionized this viewpoint. Supported by an urgent cable of May 24 from the premier of France, calling for 2,000 planes a month and a total of 5,000 pilots and 50,000 mechanicians, the $640,000,000 appropriation, the largest ever made by Congress for one specific purpose, was drawn up, put through the House of Representatives Military Affairs Committee in two meetings, the House itself in one, the Senate Military Affairs Committee in 45 minutes, and the Senate itself a week later, becoming law on July 24, 1917. On this date the present large program was really launched, two months and a half after the outbreak of war, and largely in response to allied appeals.

The rest of the fiscal year was taken up in amplifying and executing the lines of effort here laid down. Toward the end of the year, however, it became obvious that the system of organization of an Aviation Section as a subsidiary branch of the Signal Corps was not functioning efficiently. The British and French, perceiving that we were encountering the same kind of obstacles as theirs, strongly recommended a separate, independent air service similar to the air ministries they had been obliged to establish and which have worked so successfully since. As a result, a first step was taken in a rearrangement of duties designed to effect a greater independence and a greater concentration of authority when, on April 24, the War Department authorized the following statement:

“Mr. John D. Ryan has accepted the directorship of aircraft production for the Army.

“A reorganization of the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps has been also effected, of which the principal elements are as follows:

“Gen. Squier, as Chief Signal Officer, will devote his attention to the administration of signals; a Division of Military Aeronautics is created, under the direction of Brig. Gen. William L. Kenly. The Aircraft Board, created by act of Congress, remains as an advisory body, as it has been in the past, with Mr. Ryan as its chairman. This arrangement is made with the entire concurrence of Mr. Howard Coffin, who remains a member of the Advisory Commission of the Council of National Defense and will render assistance and counsel to the Aircraft Board and Mr. Ryan.

“The Division of Military Aeronautics will have control of the training of aviators and military use of aircraft. The exact division of functions in the matter of designing and engineering will be worked out as experience determines between the Division of Military Aeronautics and the Division of Production.

“This announcement involves no change of personnel in the present Equipment Division of the Signal Corps, of which W. C. Potter is chief, and which will continue under his direction.”

This reorganization, however, was admittedly but the first step. The first action taken by the President under the broad powers of the Overman Act was to effect a still further reorganization by taking aviation entirely out of the jurisdiction of the Signal Corps, where it has been from its inception on July 18, 1914, and to set up two separate bureaus, one for securing and training the large flying and ground forces, and the other for providing planes, engines, and equipment.

The presidential order of May 21 covering this change follows:

“By virtue of the authority in me vested as Commander-in-Chief of the Army and by virtue of further authority upon me specifically conferred by ‘An act authorizing the President to coordinate or consolidate executive bureaus, agencies, and offices, and for other purposes, in the interest of economy and the more efficient concentration of the Government,’ approved May 20, 1918, I do hereby make and publish the following order:

“The powers heretofore conferred by law or by Executive order upon and the duties and functions heretofore performed by the Chief Signal Officer of the Army are hereby redistributed as follows:

I

“(1) The Chief Signal Officer of the Army shall have charge, under the direction of the Secretary of War, of all military signal duties, and of books, papers and devices connected therewith, including telegraph and telephone apparatus and the necessary meteorological instruments for use on target ranges, and other military uses; the construction, repair, and operation of military telegraph lines, and the duty of collecting and transmitting information for the Army by telegraph or otherwise, and all other duties usually pertaining to military signaling; and shall perform such other duties as now or are or shall hereafter be devolved by law or by Executive order upon said Chief Signal Officer which are not connected with the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps or with the purchase, manufacture, maintenance, and production of aircraft, and which are not hereinafter conferred, in special or general terms, upon other officers or agencies.

“(2) A Director of Military Aeronautics, selected and designated by the Commander in Chief of the Army, shall hereafter have charge, under the direction of the Secretary of War, of the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps of the Army, and as such shall be, and he hereby is, charged with the duty of operating and maintaining or supervising the operation and maintenance of all military aircraft, including balloons and aeroplanes, all appliances pertaining to said aircraft and signaling apparatus of any kind when installed on said aircraft, and of training officers, enlisted men, and candidates for aviation service in matters pertaining to military aviation, and shall hereafter perform each and every function heretofore imposed upon and performed by the Chief Signal Officer of the Army in, or in connection with, the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps, except such as pertains to the purchase, manufacture, and production of aircraft and aircraft equipment and as is not hereinafter conferred, in special or general terms, upon the Bureau of Aircraft Production; and all aeroplanes now in use or completed and on hand and all material and parts, and all machinery, tools, appliances, and equipment held for use for the maintenance thereof; all lands, buildings, repair shops, warehouses, and all other property, real, personal, or mixed, heretofore used by the Signal Corps in, or in connection with, the operation and maintenance of aircraft and the training of officers, enlisted men, and candidates for aviation service, or procured and now held for such use by or under the jurisdiction and control of the Signal Corps of the Army; all books, records, files and office equipment heretofore used by the Signal Corps, in, or in connection with, such operation, maintenance, and training; and the entire personnel of the Signal Corps as at present assigned to, or engaged upon work in, or in connection with, such operation, maintenance, and training, is hereby transferred from the jurisdiction of the Chief Signal Office and placed under the jurisdiction of the Director of Military Aeronautics; it being the intent hereof to transfer from the jurisdiction of the Chief Signal Officer to the jurisdiction of the said Director of Military Aeronautics every function, power, and duty conferred and imposed upon said Director of Military Aeronautics by subparagraph (2) of paragraph I hereof all property of every sort of nature used or procured for use in, or in connection with, the functions of the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps placed in charge of the Director of Military Aeronautics by subparagraph (2) of paragraph I hereof, and the entire personnel of the Signal Corps in charge of the Director of Military Aeronautics by subparagraph (2) of paragraph I hereof.

“(3) An executive agency, known as the Bureau of Aircraft Production, is hereby established, and said agency shall exercise full, complete, and exclusive jurisdiction and control over the production of aeroplanes, aeroplane engines, and aircraft equipment for the use of the Army, and to that end shall forthwith assume control and jurisdiction over all pending Government projects having to do or connected with the production of aeroplanes, aeroplane engines, and aircraft equipment for the Army and heretofore conducted by the Signal Corps of the Army, under the jurisdiction of the Chief Signal Officer; and all material on hand for such production, all unfinished aeroplanes and aeroplane engines, and all unfinished, unattached, or unassembled aircraft equipment; all lands, buildings, factories, warehouses, machinery, tools, and appliances, and all other property, real, personal, or mixed, heretofore used in or in connection with such production, or procured and now held for such use, by or under the jurisdiction and control of the Signal Corps of the Army; all books, records, files, and office equipment used by the said Signal Corps in or in connection with such production; all rights under contracts made by the Signal Corps in or in connection with such production; and the entire personnel of the Signal Corps as at present assigned to or engaged upon work in or in connection with such production are hereby transferred from the jurisdiction of the Signal Corps and placed under the jurisdiction of the Bureau of Aircraft Production, it being the intent thereof to transfer from the jurisdiction of the Signal Corps to the jurisdiction of the said Bureau of Aircraft Production every function, power, and duty connected with said production, all property of every sort or nature used or procured for use in or in connection with said production, and the entire personnel of the Signal Corps, as at present assigned to or engaged upon work in or in connection with such production.

“Such person as shall at the time be chairman of the Aircraft Board created by the act of Congress approved October 1, 1917, shall also be the executive officer of said Bureau of Aircraft Production, and he shall be, and he hereby is, designated as Director of Aircraft Production, and he shall, under the direction of the Secretary of War, have charge of the activities, personnel, and properties of said bureau.

II

“All unexpended funds of appropriations heretofore made for the Signal Corps of the Army and already specifically allotted for use in connection with the functions of the Signal Service as defined and limited by subparagraph (1) of Paragraph I hereof shall be and remain under the jurisdiction of the Chief Signal Officer; all such funds already specifically allotted for use in connection with the functions of the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps as defined and limited by subparagraph (2) of Paragraph I hereof are hereby transferred to and placed under the jurisdiction of the Director of Military Aeronautics for the purpose of meeting the obligations and expenditures authorized by said section; all such funds already specifically allotted for use in connection with the functions hereby bestowed upon the Bureau of Aircraft Production, as defined and limited by subparagraph (3) of Paragraph I hereof, are hereby transferred to and placed under the jurisdiction of said Director of Aircraft Production for the purpose of meeting the obligations and expenditures authorized by said bureau in carrying out the duties and functions hereby transferred to and bestowed upon said bureau; and in so far as such funds have not been already specifically allotted to the different fields of activity of the Signal Corps as heretofore existing, they shall now be allotted by the Secretary of War in such proportions as shall to him seem best intended to meet the requirements of the respective fields of former

## activity of the Signal Corps and the intention of Congress when making

said appropriations, and the funds so allotted by the Secretary of War to meet expenditures in the field of activity of the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps are hereby transferred to and placed under the jurisdiction of the Director of Military Aeronautics for the purpose of meeting the obligations and expenditures authorized by said section; and the funds so allotted by the Secretary of War to meet the expenditures in that part of the field of activity of the Signal Corps, which includes the functions hereby transferred to the Bureau of Aircraft Production, are hereby transferred to and placed under the jurisdiction of the Director of Aircraft Production for the purpose of meeting the obligations and expenditures authorized by said bureau.

III

“This order shall be and remain in full force and effect during the continuance of the present war and for six months after the termination thereof by the proclamation of the treaty of peace, or until theretofore amended, modified, or rescinded.

“Under this order Mr. John D. Ryan continued as Director of Aircraft Production and Maj. Gen. William L. Kenly became Director of Military Aeronautics.”

This division of responsibilities and functions gave a clearer conception of the unique duties of the Air Service in production of planes and training of pilots, and is significant, too, of the many tactical reasons which made it imperative for England and France to establish separate and independent air services.

The end of the fiscal year found this problem of higher organization one of the most important to be faced. An early defect discovered in the reorganization developed when there appeared to be inadequate liaison between the Bureau of Aircraft Production and the Division of Military Aeronautics. One was responsible for the production of planes, the other for their operation and military efficiency. The method of selecting a type to put into production and the final decision whether any plane produced was suitable for its military purposes or not, was undetermined. The situation of two sets of officials with equal authority in their respective fields of action, neither responsible to the other, at once demonstrated that neither could be held for the final production of an acceptable plane for the front. This was

## partially obviated by an agreement between the Division of Military

Aeronautics and the Bureau of Aircraft Production that the types of plane to be put into production must first be mutually agreed upon, and that before a plane could be sent to the front it should be given a military test and accepted by the Division of Military Aeronautics. But considerable time was lost before this policy was definitely arranged, a policy which might easily have at once been established by a unified department.

The personnel side of the air service, including the selection, training, organization, and operation of the flying forces, developed within the fiscal year 1917-18 into an educational system on a scale infinitely larger and more diverse than anyone had anticipated. Teaching men to fly, to send messages by wireless, to operate machine guns in the air, to know artillery fire by its bursts, and to travel hundreds of miles by compass, teaching other men to read the enemy’s strategy from aerial photographs, and still others to repair instruments, ignition systems, propellers, aeroplane wings, and motors, has required a network of flying fields and schools, a large instructional force, and a maze of equipment and curricula.

None of this, practically speaking, was on hand at the outbreak of the war, neither fields, instructors, curricula, nor, more serious than all, experience to show what was to be needed. This country had never trained an aviator sufficiently to meet the demands of overseas aerial warfare and had not the slightest knowledge of the instruction necessary for radio, photography, or enlisted personnel. Consequently, the first men largely taught themselves before teaching others, and experience led on from one course to the next.

First, in the point of need, was that of flying fields. Two were in limited operation at the outbreak of war, San Diego and Mineola; three more were selected, cleared, equipped, and made ready for flying in six weeks’ time, and by the end of the year over a score were in operation all over the country. All were protected by a three-year lease with option to buy, if desired, at a fixed price. During the year also five supply depots, three concentration depots, three balloon camps, two repair depots, one experimental field, one radio laboratory, and one quarantine camp were built.

The selection of men for training as flyers was a complicated task, as the requirements were necessarily rigid. Volunteer examining boards of the highest medical skill were organized all over the country, 36 urban and 30 divisional boards, and a total of 38,777 men were examined to June 2, of whom nearly half, or 18,004, were disqualified. This naturally led to a high grade of personnel, and made the later training both more rapid and more efficient.

The first step in instruction was at one of the new “ground” schools opened on May 21 at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cornell and Ohio State Universities and the Universities of Illinois, Texas, and California, with Princeton and the Georgia School of Technology added on July 5. Here, in eight weeks, under military discipline, the cadets were grounded in all the elements of aviation at a cost to the Government at first of $65 per pupil, and later $10 each for the first four weeks, and $5 weekly thereafter. By June 30, 1918, a total of 11,539 men were graduated to the flying fields and 3,129 were discharged for failure in studies, etc.

Next came the actual flying instruction, divided into two phases, primary and advanced. The former averaged about eight weeks, included ability to execute the simpler evolutions and cross-country flights, and led to an officer’s commission and the right to wear the Reserve Military Aviator’s wings. To June 30, 1918, 4,980 men had been graduated as Reserve Military Aviators for final training, and about 400 had been disqualified as incapable of becoming flyers.

The advanced training, however, presented infinitely more difficulties. It was not nearly so simple to teach the more complex stunts, formation flying, aerial machine gunnery, bombing, and night flying, while at the same time the highly specialized equipment necessary required considerable time for manufacture. Nevertheless, advanced schools of the three types necessary were openeEarly western travels 1748-1846, volume 7 of 10d toward the end of the year 1918, with what equipment was available, and had graduated 110 bombers, 85 bombing pilots, 464 observers, 389 observer pilots, and 131 pursuit pilots by June 30, 1918.

The ideal arrangement in mind at the end of the year was to train each pilot completely on this side of the ocean, where facilities are very good, supplies in abundance, and information and experienced pilots from the front available in ever-increasing numbers. The flyers can then be organized into provisional squadrons and wings and given training as large units with their own administrative officers and enlisted personnel so that they will be able to go immediately to the front, after a month or so of transformation work in France, learning geography and familiarizing themselves with new types of planes. Plans are under way looking to the establishment of such wings and brigades in the United States with the end in view of furnishing complete and fully trained units to the American Expeditionary Force.

The whole training program was considerably held up by lack of equipment. Obviously it required far less time to select men for training than to build the fields, planes, and accessories necessary to train them. Primary training planes, the only type manufactured here before the war, soon became available in increasing numbers, till by the end of the year more were on hand than needed. The advanced training planes, however, presented problems wholly new to this country, so that primary planes had to be fitted with more powerful engines and equipment and made to serve the purpose. The first 16 single-seater pursuit planes were not delivered till January, 1918, the first bombers till March, and the first gunnery late in May.

During this fiscal year a grand total of 407,999 hours were flown by Army aviators in the United States, as contrasted with 745.5 hours in 1914 and 1,269 in 1915. In the single week ending June 30, 1918, a total of 19,560 hours were flown, or 15 times, for that single week, the number of the whole year three years before. This, at 75 miles an hour, is equivalent to over 30,000,000 miles, or 1,223 times around the Equator.

During it there were 152 fatalities, or 2,684 flying hours and 201,000 miles flown to each death. Of these, 86 were caused by stalls, when the plane, usually through some error by the pilot, lost its flying speed and dropped into a straight nose dive or turned into a tail spin, from which the pilot did not have the time or the skill to extricate it. Collisions were responsible for 30 other accidents, often due to failure to fly according to the rules. Side-slips, the only other large cause of accidents, resulted in 10 deaths.

Regrettable as these accidents are, it is felt that, considering the newness of the science, the early state of development of the planes, the inexperience in instruction, and the necessity of teaching stunts in themselves rather dangerous, this number is not large. As a matter of actual statistics, fatalities in American training are less than half as large as those of the other allied countries.

Besides flyers, however, engineer officers to direct the upkeep of the equipment, supply officers to keep sufficient equipment on hand, and adjutants to keep the records and do other military work had to be especially trained. These men, absolutely essential to the maintenance of the Air Service organization, could be secured only after a detailed course of instruction. An engineers’ school, opened for a 12 weeks’ course at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology on January 12, graduated 590 men and discharged 228 before June 30; a supply officers’ school, opened at the Georgia School of Technology, graduated 852 men and discharged 111 from an eight weeks’ course before it was closed on May 11; and an adjutants’ school, opened at Ohio State University on January 12, graduated 789 and discharged 97 men in an eight weeks’ course before it was closed June 22.

A six weeks’ course for armament officers and men to care for machine guns and bombs was opened at Fairfield, Ohio, on April 22, graduating 95 officers and 465 men by June 30, all of whom went forthwith overseas. Just at the end of the year a series of special schools in aerial gunnery were opened as the final step in the flyers’ training in this country, graduating 102 pilots, 111 observers, and 101 fighting observers by June 30. Also a special course for compass officers was opened at Camp Dick, Texas, on April 10, with 53 graduates, and another course at the same time for a score of navigation officers.

Radio also required very special instruction, with courses and instructors for all flyers through the various stages of their progress, for the receiving force on the ground, and for the men responsible for the upkeep of the radio equipment. At the outset, volunteer civilians, each with his own methods of instruction, stepped into the breach, but by the end of the year two radio officers, and four enlisted men’s schools were in operation with 49 and 329 graduates, respectively; radio officers and equipment had been sent to every field and ground school; and the courses for flyers had been standardized all the way through.

Aerial photography, which had developed during the war into an exact science, required similar triple instruction—that for observers to operate the cameras in the air, intelligence officers on the ground to interpret them, and enlisted men to aid in the developing, printing, and enlarging, and to keep the equipment in condition. Where the United States had not even a single aerial camera at the outbreak of the war, by the end of the year there had been opened on March 25 a large school for developers and printers at Rochester, N. Y., with 680 graduates by June 30, an officers’ school on January 6 at Cornell teaching map compilation and interpretation, and photographic “huts” with complete personnel and equipment for instruction at each of the flying fields.

One of the most serious problems, and one of late development, was that of enlisted men, the ground force needed to keep the planes and engines always in prime condition, repair minor breaks, tighten up wires, strengthen struts, and make sure that no airman went up in a faulty plane. This was work wholly new to American mechanics, and of a delicacy and carefulness to which they were quite unaccustomed. Moreover, mechanics of the skill required had largely been drained off by the draft, by enlistment, or by other war industries.

Consequently, a whole series of schools was necessary. At first, in the fall small detachments of mechanics were sent to various factories—ignition, magneto, propeller, welding, instruments, sail-making, cabinet work, copper work, machine guns, and motors to secure as much experience as possible. While about 2,000 men were being graduated from 17 courses at 34 different schools of this type, more fully worked out courses were established at five northern flying fields closed for flying during the winter. With 2,500 graduated here, still more detailed courses were opened at four large mechanics’ schools, which added another 5,000 men. By the end of the year two large and complete Government schools were in operation at Kelly Field, Texas, and St. Paul, Minn., capable of graduating 5,000 men every three months.

A noteworthy event of the year was the opening on May 15 of the first regular aerial mail service in the United States between New York, Philadelphia, and Washington. The Army furnished six planes and pilots, shortly doubled, for a daily round trip, carrying about 350 pounds of mail each way, and with a record of 50 minutes for the 90 miles between Philadelphia and New York, and 1 hour and 50 minutes for the 135 miles from Philadelphia to Washington. Ninety per cent of the trips were made successfully.

Another vitally important phase of the Air Service is that of ballooning, which during the war has been developing into a system of ever-watchful sentries on guard all the way from the North Sea to Switzerland. Less spectacular, perhaps, than the heavier-than-air work, this branch of the service has a quite indispensable function. The observer, swinging in a captive balloon at an altitude of a mile, 2 to 5 miles from the enemy’s lines, and with a range of vision of 8 miles in all directions, can make a far more detailed, minute-by-minute analysis of the enemy’s movements than the wider visioned but transitory aviator, and can maintain such a flow of minute information to the staff below that no important movement can take place unobserved within his view.

Here, also, at the outbreak of the war the United States was practically without facilities. The only school was at Fort Omaha, Nebr., recovered from complete abandonment the previous November, with accommodations for 15 officers and 400 men, and equipment of balloon shed, gas plant, two obsolete captive balloons, and some telephone material. The original program of August 13 necessitated a very large expansion, fully comparable to that in the heavier-than-air branch.

To meet the program the Fort Omaha school was enlarged in September to accommodate 61 officers and 1,200 men; on December 28 Camp John Wise was opened at San Antonio with a final capacity of 150 officers and 2,200 men, and special companies were sent to Fort Sill, Okla., for cooperation with the Coast Artillery. By June 30, 440 balloon officers had graduated, of whom 155 were fully qualified observers, and 73 had been sent overseas. The enlisted strength stood at 9,621 with 1,382 abroad.

Thus, by the end of the fiscal year, the Air Service had in operation an educational system complete in all the details necessary to man this intricate service. Fields, curricula, instructors, and equipment were on hand for the most diverse courses, and men were graduating in hundreds trained to all the difficulties of operating aeroplanes and translating their work into effective action. A total of 34,209 men had been graduated from the various courses, with 20,976 men enrolled in 50 schools of 16 different types.

Many outside bodies were called upon to cooperate in this development. Great Britain, France, and Italy all early established large aviation missions in Washington which brought their three years of experience to help solve problems confronted here for the first time. The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, the Bureau of Standards, and several joint Army and Navy Boards also added their information on the subject.

Nevertheless the work was carried out under extreme difficulties. Operation and production were not properly coordinated. Much time was lost in having to obtain the necessary authority to build a new field or secure increases in personnel, instead of being able to carry out a main program with full independence and authority. Moreover, experienced and trained personnel was lacking; work had to be done while the actual organization to do it was being built up; much time was lost in the expansion and moving about of offices in Washington, some half a dozen times; while officers were constantly being shifted between Washington, the fields, and overseas.

Meanwhile overseas, work of organization was similarly going on. Hardly six weeks after the United States entered the war, namely, on May 27, the first cadets sailed for France for training in the highly developed French flying schools, till by the end of the year nearly 2,500 men were under instruction in France, England, Italy, and Canada. The collapse of Russia, Italy’s serious defeat, and the weight thrown on the allied services made it impossible, unfortunately, for the Allies to meet the schedule of training planes necessary, so that many of these cadets, the most promising of America’s material, were in idleness for months. Nevertheless, what facilities were available greatly advanced America’s aerial preparation and helped relieve the shortage of equipment here. It was early in May, 1918, however, over a year after America’s entry into the war, that the first German plane fell victim to an aviator in the American service. About the same time 468 fully trained American aviators organized into 13 complete American squadrons or brigades with British and French squadrons were actually on the front, taking increasing toll of the enemy.

During the same time an enlisted force of 46,667 men had also been sent overseas. The first to go were sent to France to lay the foundations for the great organization soon to be built up, including training fields, assembly depots for American-built planes, and aerodromes near the front. Others were formed into service squadrons in England and France to be ready as soon as American pilots were trained into their own organizations. Still others went to relieve French skilled labor of unskilled work so that they could go back into aeroplane factories, while others went to England for the construction work necessary to carry out the night bombing program.

Consequently, by June 30, 1918, two large training organizations were in operation, the source of supply in this country training and organizing thousands of pilots and men in all sorts of tasks and the operation end overseas giving the final training in France, England, and Italy the fast moving of fully trained squadrons to the front.

Where, at the outbreak of the war, there had been but 65 officers in the Air Service, there were now 14,230; the enlisted strength, similarly, had jumped from 1,120 to 124,767; the number of men in or awaiting training for flyers from less than 100 to over 18,000. There were 4,872 officers and 46,667 enlisted men overseas. Indeed, the Air Service alone was by June 30, 1918, larger than the American Army at the outbreak of the war. While its development had been infinitely more complicated and much less rapid than expected, there is reason to believe that it is essentially sound.

WILLIAM L. KENLY, _Major-General, U. S. A._, _Director of Military Aeronautics_.

The Secretary of War.

APPENDIX II

RECORDS OF ALLIED AND ENEMY ACES WITH NUMBER OF PLANES BROUGHT DOWN

K—Killed. D—Dead. C—Captured. W—Wounded.

BRITISH ACES

Major E. Mannock (k) 73 Colonel William A. Bishop 72 Major Raymond Collishaw 70 Captain James McCudden (k) 58 Captain Philip F. Fullard 48 Captain Donald E. McLaren (k) 48 Captain G. E. H. McElroy 46 Captain Albert Ball (k) 43 Captain J. I. T. Jones 40 Captain A. W. B. Proctor 39 Major Roderic S. Dallas 39 Captain W. G. Claxton (k) 37 Captain F. R. McCall 34 Captain Frank G. Quigley 34 Major Albert D. Carter 31 Captain Cedric E. Howell 30 Captain A. E. McKeever 30 Captain Henry W. Wollett 28 Captain Brunwin-Hales 27 Major William G. Barker 25 Captain W. L. Jordan 25 Captain John Andrews, (Lieutenant, 9) 24 Captain Francis McCubbin 23 Captain M. B. Frew, (Lieutenant, 8) 23 Captain John Gilmour 23 Captain E. Libby Captain Robert A. Little 22 Captain A. H. Cobby 21 Captain G. E. Thomson (k) 21 Lieutenant John J. Malone 20 Lieutenant Allen Wilkenson 19 Captain E. G. McClaughey 19 Captain J. L. Trollope (c) 18 Captain Stanley Rosever (d) 18 Lieutenant Leonard M. Barlow 17 Captain Walter A. Tyrrell 15 Captain P. C. Carpenter 15 Lieutenant Clive Warman 15 Lieutenant Clive F. Collett (k) 15 Lieutenant Fred Libby 14 Lieutenant R. T. C. Hoidge 14 Captain H. G. Reeves (accident) 13 Captain Murray Galbraith 13 Lieutenant Joseph S. Fall 13 Captain Noel W. W. Webb (k) 12 Lieutenant A. J. Cowper 12 Lieutenant Alan Gerard 12 Captain Whitaker (in Italy) 12 Lieutenant M. D. G. Scott 11 Captain Robert Dodds 11 Captain Gilbert Ware Green 9 Lieutenant K. R. Park 9 Lieutenant Rhys-David 9 Lieutenant John H. T. Letts 8 Captain James A. Slater 8 Sergeant Dean K. Lamb 8 Lieutenant Boyd S. Breadner 8 Captain Wagour (in Italy) 7 Lieutenant Edward A. Clear 7 Captain Henry G. Luchford (k) 7 Captain C. A. Brewster-Joske 7 Lieutenant A. S. Sheppard 7 Lieutenant James Dennis Payne 7 Lieutenant Lionel B. Jones 7 Captain Lancelot L. Richardson 6 Lieutenant Cecil Roy Richards 6 Lieutenant Howard Saint 6 Lieutenant Fred John Gibbs 6 Lieutenant C. W. Cuddemore 6 Captain H. T. Mellings (w) 5 Commander R. F. Minifie (c) 5 Lieutenant Langley F. W. Smith 5 Lieutenant Ellis Vair Reed 5 Captain R. W. Chappell 5 Captain G. H. Boarman 5 Lieutenant F. T. S. Menedex 5 Captain Kennedy C. Patrick 5 Sergeant T. F. Stephenson 5 Lieutenant William Lewis Wells 5 Lieutenant E. D. Clarke 5 Captain Fred Hope Lawrence 5 Lieutenant Edward R. Grange 5 Lieutenant W. G. Miggett 5 Lieutenant Lawrence W. Allen 5 Lieutenant William D. Matheson 5 Lieutenant Stanley J. Coble 5 Captain S. T. Edwards 4 Captain A. R. Brown 4 Captain A. T. Whealy 4 Captain T. F. LeMesuries 4 Commander F. C. Armstrong 4 Commander E. L. N. Clarke 4 Commander R. B. Munday 4 Commander G. W. Price 4 Commander R. J. O. Compston 4 Lieutenant V. R. Stockes 4 Lieutenant W. C. Canbray 4 Lieutenant G. T. Beamish 3 Lieutenant E. T. Hayne 3 Lieutenant G. W. Hemming 3 Lieutenant J. E. L. Hunter 3 Lieutenant W. A. Curtiss 3 Lieutenant G. R. Crole 3 Lieutenant Robert N. Hall 3 Lieutenant David S. Hall 3 Lieutenant M. F. G. Day 3 Lieutenant E. G. Johnson 3 Lieutenant M. H. Findlay 3 Lieutenant C. B. Ridley 3 Lieutenant S. B. Horn 3 Lieutenant K. K. Muspratt 3

FRENCH ACES

Lieutenant Rene Fonck 75 Captain Georges Guynemer (k) 53 Lieutenant Charles Nungesser 43 Lieutenant Georges Madon 41 Lieutenant Maurice Boyau (k) 35 Lieutenant Coeffard (k) 34 Captain Pinsard 27 Lieutenant Rene Dorme (m) 23 Lieutenant Guerin (k) 23 Captain Heurteaux 21 Sergeant Marinovitch 21 Lieutenant Deullin 20 Adjutant Ehrlich 19 Lieutenant de Slade 19 Lieutenant Jean Chaput (k) 16 Lieutenant de Turrenne 15 Lieutenant de Meuldre (k) 13 Lieutenant Garaud 13 Lieutenant Nogues 13 Lieutenant Jailler 12 Lieutenant Marcel Hughes 12 Lieutenant Navarre (w) 12 Lieutenant Tarascon 12 Lieutenant de Sevin 12 Adjutant Casale 12 Lieutenant Leps 12 Lieutenant de La Tour (k) 11 Adjutant Maxime Lenoire (k) 11 Lieutenant Sardier 11 Lieutenant Ortoli 11 Sergeant Montrion (k) 11 Adjutant Herrison 11 Sergeant Bouyer 11 Lieutenant Bourgade 10 Adjutant Herbelin 10 Sergeant Quette (k) 10 Captain Georges Matton 9 Adjutant Chainat 9 Adjutant Dauchy 9 Lieutenant Viallet 9 Sergeant Sauvage (k) 8 Lieutenant de Rochefort (k) 7 Captain Rene Doumer (k) 7 Captain Alfred Auger (k) 7 Lieutenant Henri Languedoc (k) 7 Captain Derode 7 Lieutenant Lachmann 7 Lieutenant Flachaire 7 Adjutant Vitallis 7 Adjutant Sayaret 7 Lieutenant L’Hoste 7 Lieutenant Raymond 6 Sergeant du Bois d’Aische 6 Lieutenant Covin 6 Lieutenant Bonnefoy 6 Lieutenant Gond 6 Lieutenant Soulier 6 Sergeant Boyau 6 Adjutant Dhome 6 Adjutant Peronneau 6 Sergeant Rousseau 6 Private Louis Martin 6 Lieutenant de Mortemart (k) 6 Lieutenant Adolph Pegoud (k) 6 Sergeant Marcel Hauss (k) 5 Captain Lecour-Grandmaison (k) 5 Lieutenant Georges Baillot (k) 5 Adjutant Pierre Violet (k) 5 Lieutenant Andre Delorme (k) 5 Lieutenant Borzecky 5 Lieutenant Paul Gastin 5 Adjutant Bloch 5 Lieutenant Regnier 5 Commander Marancourt 5 Adjutant Blanc 5 Lieutenant Marty 5 Adjutant de Pralines 5

HUN ACES

Captain von Richthofen (k) 80 Lieutenant Udet 60 Lieutenant Werner Voss Crefeld (k) 49 Captain Boelke (k) 40 Lieutenant Gontermann (k) 39 Lieutenant Max Muller (k) 38 Lieutenant Bongartz 36 Captain Brunowsky (Austrian) 34 Lieutenant Max Buckler (k) 34 Lieutenant Menckhoff 34 Captain Berthold 33 Lieutenant Loerzer 33 Lieutenant Cort Wolff (k) 33 Lieutenant Koenneke 32 Lieutenant Balle 31 Lieutenant Schleich 30 Lieutenant Schaeffer (k) 30 Lieutenant Almenroder (k) 30 Lieutenant von Richthofen 29 Lieutenant Kroll 28 Lieutenant Prince von Bulow (k) 28 Lieutenant Wuesthoff (k) 28 Lieutenant Laumen 28 Lieutenant Boerr 28 Lieutenant Huey 28 Lieutenant Blume 28 Lieutenant Lowenhardt (k) 27 Captain von Tutscheck (k) 27 Lieutenant Barnett (k) 27 Lieutenant Dosler (k) 26 Lieutenant Arigi (Austrian) 26 Lieutenant Peutter (k) 25 Lieutenant Veltgens (k) 24 Lieutenant Erwin Boehm (k) 24 Corporal Rumey 23 Lieutenant Kirstein (k) 23 Lieutenant Link Crawford (k) 23 Lieutenant Fiala (Austrian) 23 Captain Baumer 23 Lieutenant Jakobs 22 Lieutenant Klein 22 Lieutenant Cluffort 22 Lieutenant Friedrichs (k) 21 Lieutenant Billik (k) 21 Lieutenant Wimdische (k) 21 Lieutenant Adam 21 Lieutenant Grein 20 Lieutenant Buechner 20 Lieutenant Thuy 20 Lieutenant von Tschwibon 20 Captain Reinhardt 20 Lieutenant von Eschwege (k) 20 Lieutenant Bethge (k) 20 Captain Behr 19 Lieutenant Thulzer 19 Lieutenant Baldamus 18 Lieutenant Wintgens (k) 18 Lieutenant Frankel (k) 17 Lieutenant Kissenberth 17 Lieutenant Schmidt 15 Lieutenant Geigle (k) 15 Lieutenant Schneider 15 Lieutenant Immelmann 15 Lieutenant Nathanall 14 Lieutenant Dassenbach 14 Lieutenant Festner 13 Lieutenant Hess 13 Lieutenant Muller 13 Lieutenant Goettsch 13 Lieutenant Pfeiffer 12 Lieutenant Manschatt (k) 12 Lieutenant Hohnforf (k) 12 Lieutenant Muttschaat 12 Lieutenant Buddecke (k) 12 Lieutenant von Kendall (k) 11 Lieutenant Kirmaier 11 Lieutenant Theiller 11 Lieutenant Serfert 11 Lieutenant Goering 10 Lieutenant Mulzer 10 Lieutenant Frickart 9 Lieutenant Banfield 9 Lieutenant Leffers (k) 9 Lieutenant Schulte 9 Lieutenant Parschau (k) 8 Lieutenant Schilling 8 Lieutenant von Althaus 8 Lieutenant Esswein 6 Lieutenant Walz 6 Lieutenant Hehn 6 Lieutenant Koenig 6 Lieutenant Fahlbusch 5 Lieutenant von Siedlitz 5 Lieutenant Rosenkranz 5 Lieutenant Habor 5 Lieutenant Reimann 5 Captain Zauder 5 Lieutenant Brauneck 5 Lieutenant Ullmer 5 Lieutenant Roth 5

ITALIAN ACES

Major Baracca (k) 36 Lieutenant Flavio Barachini 31 Lieutenant Olivari (k) 21 Lieutenant Anchilotti 19 Colonel Piccio 17 Captain, Duke Calabria 16 Lieutenant Scaroni 13 Lieutenant Hanza 11 Sergeant Maisero 8 Lieutenant Parnis 7 Sergeant Poli 6 Lieutenant Luigi Olivi 6 Lieutenant Stophanni 6 Lieutenant Arrigoni 5

BELGIAN ACES

Lieutenant Coppens 30 Lieutenant de Meulemesster 10 Lieutenant Thieffry (k) 10 Lieutenant Jan Olieslagers 6 Adjutant Beulemest 6 Captain Jaquette 5 Lieutenant Robin 5 Lieutenant Medaets 5

RUSSIAN ACES

Captain Kosakoff 17 Captain Kroutenn (k) 6 Lieutenant Pachtchenko 5

TURKISH ACE

Captain Schetz 8

APPENDIX III

NOMENCLATURE FOR AERONAUTICS

BY THE NATIONAL ADVISORY COMMITTEE FOR AERONAUTICS

INTRODUCTION

The following nomenclature was adopted by the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics at its annual meeting October 10, 1918.

The purpose of its adoption and publication is to help secure uniformity in the official documents of the government as well as in the technical journals.

AERONAUTICAL NOMENCLATURE

AEROFOIL: A winglike structure, flat or curved, designed to obtain reaction upon its surfaces from the air through which it moves.

AEROFOIL SECTION: A section of an aerofoil made by a plane parallel to the plane of symmetry of the aerofoil.

AEROPLANE: See Airplane.

AILERON: A movable auxiliary surface, usually part of the trailing edge of a wing, the function of which is to control the lateral attitude of an airplane by rotating it about its longitudinal axis.

AIRCRAFT: Any form of craft designed for the navigation of the air—airplanes, airships, balloons, helicopters, kites, kite balloons, ornithopters, gliders, etc.

AIRPLANE: A form of aircraft heavier than air which has wing surfaces for support in the air, with stabilizing surfaces, rudders for steering, and power plant for propulsion through the air. This term is commonly used in a more restricted sense to refer to airplanes fitted with landing gear suited to operation from the land. If the landing gear is suited to operation from the water, the term “seaplane” is used. (See definition.)

_Pusher._—A type of airplane with the propeller in the rear of the engine.

_Tractor._—A type of airplane with the propeller in front of the engine.

AIRSHIP: A form of balloon, the outer envelope of which is of elongated form, provided with a propelling system, car, rudders, and stabilizing surfaces.

_Nonrigid._—An airship whose form is maintained by the pressure of the contained gas assisted by the car-suspension system.

_Rigid._—An airship whose form is maintained by a rigid structure contained within the envelope.

_Semirigid._—An airship whose form is maintained by means of a rigid keel and by gas pressure.

AIR-SPEED METER: An instrument designed to measure the speed of an aircraft with reference to the air.

ALTIMETER: An aneroid mounted on an aircraft to indicate continuously its height above the surface of the earth. Its dial is marked in feet, yards, or meters.

ANEMOMETER: Any instrument for measuring the velocity of the wind.

ANGLE:

_Of attack_ (or _of incidence_) _of an aerofoil_.—The acute angle between the direction of the relative wind and the chord of an aerofoil; i. e., the angle between the chord of an aerofoil and its motion relative to the air. (This definition may be extended to any body having an axis.)

_Critical._—The angle of attack at which the lift-curve has its first maximum; sometimes referred to as the “burble point.”

_Gliding._—The angle the flight path makes with the horizontal when descending in still air under the influence of gravity alone; i. e., without power from the engine.

ANGLE OF INCIDENCE (_in directions for rigging_): In the process of rigging an airplane some arbitrary definite line in the airplane is kept horizontal; the angle of incidence of a wing, or of any aerofoil, is the angle between its chord and this horizontal line, which usually is the line of the upper longitudinals of the fuselage or nacelle.

APPENDIX: The hose at the bottom of a balloon used for inflation. In the case of a spherical balloon it also serves for equalization of pressure.

ASPECT RATIO: The ratio of span to chord of an aerofoil.

ATTITUDE: The attitude of an aircraft is determined by the inclination of its axes to the “frame of reference”; e. g., the earth, or the relative wind.

AVIATOR: The operator or pilot of heavier-than-air craft. This term is applied regardless of the sex of the operator.

AXES OF AN AIRCRAFT: Three fixed lines of reference; usually centroidal and mutually rectangular.

The principal longitudinal axis in the plane of symmetry, usually parallel to the axis of the propeller, is called the _longitudinal_ axis; the axis perpendicular to this in the plane of symmetry is called the _normal_ axis; and the third axis, perpendicular to the other two, is called the _lateral_ axis. In mathematical discussions the first of these axes, drawn from front to rear, is called the X axis; the second, drawn upward, the Z axis; and the third, running from right to left, the Y axis.

BALANCING FLAPS: See Aileron.

BALLONET: A small balloon within the interior of a balloon or airship for the purpose of controlling the ascent or descent and for maintaining pressure on the outer envelope so as to prevent deformation. The ballonet is kept inflated with air at the required pressure, under the control of valves by a blower or by the action of the wind caught in an air-scoop.

BALLOON: A form of aircraft comprising a gas bag, rigging and a basket. The support in the air results from the buoyancy of the air displaced by the gas bag, the form of which is maintained by the pressure of a contained gas lighter than air.

_Barrage._—A small spherical captive balloon, raised as a protection against attacks by airplanes.

_Captive._—A balloon restrained from free flight by means of a cable attaching it to the earth.

_Kite._—An elongated form of captive balloon, fitted with tail appendages to keep it headed into the wind, and deriving increased lift due to its axis being inclined to the wind.

_Pilot._—A small spherical balloon sent up to show the direction of the wind.

_Sounding._—A small spherical balloon sent aloft without passengers but with registering meteorological instruments.

BALLOON BED: A mooring place on the ground for a captive balloon.

BALLOON CLOTH: The cloth, usually cotton, of which balloon fabrics are made.

BALLOON FABRIC: The finished material, usually rubberized, of which balloon envelopes are made.

BANK: To incline an airplane laterally—i.e., to roll it about the longitudinal axis. Right bank is to incline the airplane with the right wing down. Also used as a noun to describe the position of an airplane when its lateral axis is inclined to the horizontal.

BANK, ANGLE OF: The angle through which an aircraft must be rotated about its longitudinal axis in order to bring its lateral axis into the horizontal plane.

BAROGRAPH: An instrument used to record variations in barometric pressure. In aeronautics the charts on which the records are made indicate altitudes directly instead of barometric pressures.

BASKET: The car suspended beneath a balloon, for passengers, ballast, etc.

BIPLANE: A form of airplane in which the main supporting surface is divided into two parts, one above the other.

BODY OF AN AIRPLANE: See Fuselage and Nacelle.

BONNET: The appliance, having the form of a parasol, which protects the valve of a spherical balloon against rain.

BRIDLE: The system of attachment of cable to a balloon, including lines to the suspension band.

BULL’S-EYES: Small rings of wood, metal, etc., forming part of balloon rigging, used for connection or adjustment of ropes.

BURBLE POINT: See Angle, critical.

CABANE: A pyramidal framework upon the wing of an airplane, to which stays, etc., are secured.

CAMBER: The convexity or rise of the curve of an aerofoil from its chord, usually expressed as the ratio of the maximum departure of the curve from the chord to the length of the chord. “Top camber” refers to the top surface of an aerofoil, and “bottom camber” to the bottom surface; “mean camber” is the mean of these two.

CAPACITY: See Load. The cubic contents of a balloon.

CEILING: _Service._—The height above sea level at which a given aircraft ceases to rise at a rate higher than a small specified one, say 100 feet per minute. This specified rate may be different in the services of different countries.

_Absolute._—The maximum height above sea level to which a given aircraft can rise.

_Theoretical._—The limiting height to which a given aircraft can rise determined by computations of performance, based upon the drawings and wind tunnel data.

CENTER OF PRESSURE OF AN AEROFOIL: The point in the plane of the chords of an aerofoil, prolonged if necessary, through which at any given attitude the line of action of the resultant air force passes. (This definition may be extended to any body.)

CHORD OF AN AEROFOIL SECTION:

_For theoretical purposes._—The zero lift line, i. e., the limiting position, in the section, of the line of action of the resultant air force when the position of the section is such that the lift is zero.

_Practical._—The line of a straightedge brought into contact with the lower surface of the section at points near its edges. In the case of an aerofoil having double convex camber, the straight line joining the entering and trailing edges.

_Length._—The length of the chord is the length of the projection of the aerofoil section on its chord.

CLINOMETER: See Inclinometer.

CONCENTRATION RING: A hoop to which are attached the ropes suspending the basket of a spherical balloon.

CONTROLS: A general term applying to the means provided for operating the devices used to control speed, direction of flight, and attitude of an aircraft.

CONTROL COLUMN: The vertical lever by means of which certain of the principal controls are operated, usually those for pitching and rolling.

CROSS-WIND FORCE: The component perpendicular to the lift and to the drag of the total force on an aircraft due to the air through which it moves.

CROW’S-FOOT: A system of diverging short ropes for distributing the pull of a single rope.

DECALAGE: The angle between the chords of the principal and the tail planes of a monoplane. The same term may be applied to the corresponding angle between the direction of the chord or chords of a biplane and the direction of a tail plane. (This angle is also sometimes known as the longitudinal V of the two planes.)

DIHEDRAL IN AN AIRPLANE: The angle included at the intersection of the imaginary surfaces containing the chords of the right and left planes (continued to the plane of symmetry if necessary). This angle is measured in a plane perpendicular to that intersection. The measure of the dihedral is taken as 90° minus one-half of this angle as defined.

The dihedral of the upper planes may and frequently does differ from that of the lower planes in a biplane.

DIRIGIBLE: See Airship.

DIVING RUDDER: See Elevator.

DOPE: A general term applied to the material used in treating the cloth surface of airplane members and balloons to increase strength, produce tautness, and act as a filler to maintain air-tightness; it usually has a cellulose base.

DRAG: The component parallel to the relative wind of the total force on an aerofoil or aircraft due to the air through which it moves.

In the case of an airplane, that part of the drag due to the wings is called “wing resistance”; that due to the rest of the airplane is called “parasite resistance.”

DRIFT: See Drag. Also used as synonymous with “leeway,” q. v.

DRIFT METER: An instrument for the measurement of the angular deviation of an aircraft from a set course, due to cross winds.

DRIP CLOTH: A curtain around the equator of a balloon, which prevents rain from dripping into the basket.

DROOP: A permanent warp of an aerofoil such that the angle of attack increases toward the wing tips. (The opposite of “wash out.”)

ELEVATOR: A movable auxiliary surface, usually attached to the tail, the function of which is to control the longitudinal attitude of an aircraft by rotating it about its lateral axis.

EMPENNAGE: The tail surfaces of an aircraft. Sometimes the word is limited to the fixed stabilizing portion of the tail—usually comprising the tail plane and vertical fin, to which are attached the elevator and rudders.

ENTERING EDGE: The foremost edge of an aerofoil or propeller blade.

ENVELOPE: The outer covering of a rigid airship; or, in the case of a balloon or a nonrigid airship, the gas bag which contains the gas.

EQUATOR: The largest horizontal circle of a spherical balloon.

FINS: Small fixed aerofoils attached to different parts of aircraft, in order to promote stability; for example, tail fins, skid fins, etc. Fins are often adjustable. They may be either horizontal or vertical.

FLIGHT PATH: The path of the center of gravity of an aircraft with reference to the earth.

FLOAT: That portion of the landing gear of an aircraft which provides buoyancy when it is resting on the surface of the water.

FUSELAGE: The elongated structure to which are attached the landing gear, wings and tail. A fuselage is rarely used with pushers; and in general it is designed to hold the passengers.

GAP: The shortest distance between the planes of the chords of the upper and lower planes of a biplane, measured along a line perpendicular to the chord of the lower plane at its entering edge.

GAS BAG: See Envelope.

GLIDE: To fly without engine power.

GLIDER: A form of aircraft similar to an airplane, but without any power plant.

When utilized in variable winds it makes use of the soaring principles of flight and is sometimes called a soaring machine.

GLIDING ANGLE: See Angle, gliding.

GORE: One of the segments of fabric composing the envelope.

GROUND CLOTH: Canvas placed on the ground to protect a balloon.

GUIDE ROPE: The long trailing rope attached to a spherical balloon or airship, to serve as a brake and as a variable ballast.

GUY: A rope, chain, wire or rod attached to an object to guide or steady it, such as guys to wing, tail, or landing gear.

HANGAR: A shed for housing airships or airplanes.

HELICOPTER: A form of aircraft whose support in the air is derived from the vertical thrust of propellers.

HORN: A short arm fastened to a movable part of an airplane, serving as a lever arm, e. g., aileron horn, rudder horn, elevator horn.

HULL OF AN AIRSHIP: The main structure of a rigid airship, consisting of a covered elongated framework which incloses the gas bags and which supports the nacelles and equipment.

INCLINOMETER: An instrument for measuring the angle made by any axis of an aircraft with the horizontal, often called a clinometer.

INSPECTION WINDOW: A small transparent window in the envelope of a balloon or in the wing of an airplane to allow inspection of the interior.

KITE: A form of aircraft without other propelling means than the towline pull, whose support is derived from the force of the wind moving past its surface.

LANDING GEAR: The understructure of an aircraft designed to carry the load when resting on or running on the surface of the land or water.

LEADING EDGE: See Entering edge.

LEEWAY: The angular deviation from a set course over the earth, due to cross currents of wind, also called drift; hence, “drift meter.”

LIFT: The component of the total force due to the air resolved perpendicular to the relative wind and in the plane of symmetry.

LIFT OF AN AIRSHIP:

_Dynamic._—The component of the total force on an airship due to the air through which it moves, resolved perpendicular to the relative wind and in the plane including the direction of the relative wind and the longitudinal axis.

_Static._—The vertical upward force on an airship when at rest in the air, due to buoyancy.

LIFT BRACING: See Stay.

LOAD:

_Dead._—The structure, power plant, and essential accessories of an aircraft. Included in this are the water in the radiator, tachometer, thermometer, gauges, airspeed indicator, levels, altimeter, compass, watch, and hand starter.

_Full._—The total weight of an aircraft when loaded to the maximum authorized loading of that particular type.

_Useful._—The excess of the full load over the dead-weight of the aircraft itself. Therefore useful load includes the crew and passengers, oil and fuel, electric-light installation, chart board, gun mounts, bomb storage and releasing gear, wireless apparatus, etc.

LOADING: See Wing loading.

LOBES: Bags at the stern of an elongated balloon designed to give it directional stability.

LONGERON: See Longitudinal.

LONGITUDINAL: A fore-and-aft member of the framing of an airplane body or of the floats, usually continuous across a number of points of support.

LOOP, A: An aerial maneuver in which the airplane describes an approximately circular path in the plane of the longitudinal and normal axes, the lateral axis remaining horizontal, and the upper side of the airplane remaining on the inside of the circle.

MAROUFLAGE: The process of wrapping and winding wooden parts in cloth.

MONOPLANE: A form of airplane which has but one main supporting surface extending equally on each side of the body.

MOORING BAND: The band of tape over the top of a balloon to which are attached the mooring ropes.

NACELLE: The inclosed shelter for passengers or for an engine. Usually in the case of a single-engine pusher it is the central structure to which the wings and landing gear are attached.

NET: A rigging made of ropes and twine on spherical balloons which supports the entire load carried.

ORNITHOPTER: A form of aircraft deriving its support and propelling force from flapping wings.

OVERHANG: One-half the difference in the span of the upper and lower planes of a biplane.

PANCAKE: To “level off” an airplane, just before landing, at too great an altitude, thus stalling it and causing it to descend with the wings at a very large angle of incidence.

PANEL: The unit piece of fabric of which the envelope is made.

PARACHUTE: An apparatus, made like an umbrella, used to retard the descent of a falling body.

PATCH SYSTEM: A system of construction in which patches (or adhesive flaps) are used in place of the suspension band.

PERMEABILITY: The measure of the loss of gas by diffusion, through the intact balloon fabric.

PITCH OF A PROPELLER:

(_a_) _Pitch, effective._—The distance an aircraft advances along its flight path for one revolution of the propeller.

(_b_) _Pitch, geometrical._—The distance an element of a propeller would advance in one revolution if it were turning in a solid nut—i. e., if it were moving along a helix of slope equal to the angle between the chord of the element and a plane perpendicular to the propeller axis. The mean geometrical pitch of a propeller, which is a quantity commonly used in specifications, is the mean of the geometrical pitches of the several elements.

(_c_) _Pitch, virtual._—The distance a propeller would have to advance in one revolution in order that there might be no thrust.

(_d_) _Pitch speed._—The product of the mean geometrical pitch by the number of revolutions of the propeller in unit time—i. e., the speed the aircraft would make if there were no slip.

(_e_) _Slip._—The difference between the effective pitch and the mean geometrical pitch. Slip is usually expressed as a percentage of the mean geometrical pitch.

PITCH, ANGLE OF: The angle between two planes, defined as follows: One plane includes the lateral axis of the aircraft and the direction of the relative wind; the other plane includes the lateral axis and the longitudinal axis. (In horizontal normal flight this angle of pitch is, then, the angle between the longitudinal axis and the direction of the relative wind.)

PITOT TUBE: A tube with an end open square to the fluid stream, used as a detector of an impact pressure. It is usually associated with a coaxial tube surrounding it, having perforations normal to the axis for indicating static pressure; or there is such a tube placed near it and parallel to it, with a closed conical end and having perforations in its side. The velocity of the fluid can be determined from the difference between the impact pressure and the static pressure, as read by a suitable gauge. This instrument is often used to determine the velocity of an aircraft through the air.

PLANE: One of the main supporting surfaces of an airplane or of a wing. (Thus the upper or lower plane of an airplane or the upper right plane or lower right plane of the right wing.)

PONTOONS: See Float.

PRESSURE NOZZLE: The apparatus which, in combination with a gauge, is used to measure speed through the air.

PUSHER: See Airplane.

PYLON: A mast or pillar serving as a marker of a course.

RACE OF A PROPELLER: See Slip stream.

RATE OF CLIMB: The vertical component of the flight speed of an aircraft—i. e., its vertical velocity with reference to the air.

RELATIVE WIND: The motion of the air with reference to a moving body. Its direction and velocity, therefore, are found by adding two vectors, one being the velocity of the air with reference to the earth, the other being equal and opposite to the velocity of the body with reference to the earth.

RIGHT-HAND ENGINE: An engine designed to drive a right-hand tractor screw.

RIGHTING MOMENT: A moment which tends to restore an aircraft to its previous attitude after any rotational disturbance.

RIP CORD: The rope running from the rip panel of a balloon to the basket, the pulling of which causes immediate deflation.

RIP PANEL: A strip in the upper part of a balloon which is torn off when immediate deflation is desired.

ROLL, A: An aerial maneuver in which a complete revolution about the longitudinal axis is made, the direction of flight being maintained.

RUDDER: A hinged or pivoted surface, usually more or less flat or stream lined, used for the purpose of controlling the attitude of an aircraft about its normal axis—i. e., for controlling its lateral movement.

_Balanced._—A rudder having part of its surface in front of its pivot.

RUDDER BAR: The foot bar by means of which the rudder is operated.

SEAPLANE: A particular form of airplane in which the landing gear is suited to operation from the water.

(_a_) _Boat seaplane_ (or _flying boat_).—A form of seaplane having for its central portion a boat which provides flotation. It is often provided with auxiliary floats or pontoons.

(_b_) _Float seaplane._—A form of seaplane in which the landing gear consists of one or more floats or pontoons.

SERPENT: A short, heavy guide rope.

SIDE SLIPPING: Sliding downward and inward when making a turn; due to excessive banking. It is the opposite of skidding.

SKIDDING: Sliding sidewise away from the center of the turn in flight. It is usually caused by insufficient banking in a turn and is the opposite of side slipping.

SKIDS: Long wooden or metal runners designed to prevent nosing of a land machine when landing or to prevent dropping into holes or ditches in rough ground. Generally designed to function should the landing gear collapse or fail to act.

SLIP STREAM (or _propeller race_): The stream of air driven aft by the propeller and with a velocity relative to the airplane greater than that of the surrounding body of still air.

SOARING MACHINE: See Glider.

SPAN (or _spread_): The maximum distance laterally from tip to tip of an airplane or the lateral dimension of an aerofoil.

SPEED: _Air._—The speed of an aircraft relative to the air.

_Ground._—The horizontal component of the velocity of an aircraft relative to the earth.

SPIN: An aerial maneuver consisting of a combination of roll and yaw, with the longitudinal axis of the airplane inclined steeply downward. The machine descends in a helix of large pitch and very small radius, the upper side of the machine being on the inside of the helix, and the angle of attack being maintained at a large value.

STABILITY: A body in any attitude has stability about an axis if, after a slight displacement about that axis, it tends to regain its initial attitude.

_Directional._—Stability with reference to the normal axis.

_Dynamical._—The quality of an aircraft in flight which causes it to return to a condition of equilibrium after its attitude has been changed by meeting some disturbance—e. g., a gust. This return to equilibrium is due to two factors: First, the inherent righting moments of the structure; second, the damping of the oscillations by the tail, etc.

_Inherent._—Stability of an aircraft due to the disposition and arrangement of its fixed parts, i. e., that property which causes it to return to its normal attitude of flight without the use of the controls.

_Lateral._—Stability with reference to displacements involving rolling or yawing, i. e., displacements in which the plane of symmetry of the airplane is rotated.

_Longitudinal._—Stability with reference to displacements involving pitching, i. e., displacements in which the plane of symmetry of the airplane is not rotated.

_Statical._—In wind-tunnel experiments it is found that there is a definite angle of attack, such that, for a greater angle or a less one, the righting moments are in such a sense as to tend to make the attitude return to this angle. This holds true for a certain range of angles on each side of this definite angle; and the machine is said to possess “statical stability” through this range.

A machine possesses statical stability if, when its attitude is disturbed, moments tending to restore it to this attitude are set up by the action of the air on the machine; e. g., if an aircraft, after an initial disturbance, oscillates with swings of constantly increasing amplitude, it is statically stable but not dynamically stable.

STABILIZER: A fixed horizontal, or nearly horizontal, tail surface, used to steady the longitudinal motion and to damp oscillations in pitch.

_Mechanical._—A mechanical device to steady the motion of an aircraft.

STAGGER: The amount of advance of the entering edge of the upper plane of a biplane over that of the lower, expressed as percentage of gap; it is considered positive when the upper surface is forward and is measured from the entering edge of the upper plane along its chord to the point of intersection of this chord with a line drawn perpendicular to the chord of the lower plane at its entering edge, all lines being drawn in a plane parallel to the plane of symmetry.

(_In directions for rigging_).—The horizontal distance between the entering edge of the upper plane and that of the lower when the airplane is in the standard position; i. e., when the arbitrary line of reference in the airplane is horizontal. (This line is usually the axis of the propeller shaft.)

STALLING: A term describing the condition of an airplane which from any cause has lost the relative speed necessary for control.

STATOSCOPE: An instrument to detect the existence of a small rate of ascent or descent, principally used in ballooning.

STAY: A wire, rope, or the like, used as a tie piece to hold parts together, or to contribute stiffness. For example, the stays of the wing and body trussing.

STEP: A break in the form of the bottom of a float.

STREAM-LINE FLOW: The condition of continuous flow of a fluid, as distinguished from eddying flow.

STREAM-LINE SHAPE: A shape intended to avoid eddying and to preserve stream-line flow.

STRUT: A compression member of a truss frame. For instance, the vertical members of the wing truss of a biplane.

SUSPENSION BAND: The band around a balloon to which are attached the basket and the main bridle suspensions.

SUSPENSION BAR: The bar used for the concentration of basket suspension ropes in captive balloons.

SWEEP BACK: The horizontal angle between the lateral axis of an airplane and the entering edge of the main planes.

TAIL: The rear portion of an aircraft, to which are usually attached rudders, elevators, stabilizers, and fins.

TAIL CUPS: The steadying device attached at the rear of certain types of elongated captive balloons.

TANDEM: An airplane whose sets of planes are placed one in front of the other.

TRACTOR: See Airplane.

TRAILING EDGE: The rearmost edge of an aerofoil or propeller blade.

TRIPLANE: A form of airplane whose main supporting surface is divided into three parts, superimposed.

TRUSS: The framing by which the wing loads are transmitted to the body; comprises struts, stays, and spars.

UNDERCARRIAGE: See Landing gear.

VENTURI TUBE: A short tube, flaring at the front end, and constricted approximately midway of its length, so that, when fluid flows through it, there will be a suction produced in a side-tube opening into the constricted throat. This tube, when combined with a Pitot tube or with one giving static pressure, forms a pressure nozzle, which may be used as an instrument to determine the speed of an aircraft through the air.

WARP: To change the form of the wing by twisting it.

WASH IN: See Droop.

WASHOUT: A permanent warp of an aerofoil such that the angle of attack decreases toward the wing tips.

WEIGHT, GROSS: See Load, full.

WING: The aggregate sustaining structure on the right or left side of an airplane, comprising both planes and trussing. (Thus, “detachable wings” and “folding wings.”)

WING FLAP: See Aileron.

WING LOADING: The weight carried per unit area of supporting surface.

WING MAST: The mast structure projecting above the wing, to which the top load wires are attached.

WING RIB: A fore-and-aft member of the wing structure used to support the covering and to give the wing section its form.

WING SPAR OR WING BEAM: A transverse member of the wing structure.

YAW: _Yawing_.—Angular motion about the normal axis.

_Angle of_.—The angle between the direction of the relative wind and the plane of symmetry of an aircraft.

ZERO LIFT LINE: The limiting position in an aerofoil section of the line of action of the resultant air force when the position of the section is such that the lift is zero.

Transcriber’s Notes

Page 59—Changed Farmborough to Farnborough Page 148—changed Chatterick to Catterick Page 165—changed condension to condensation Page 248—Space left for unknown word [not below the rank of ] Page 251—changed Clefden to Clifden Page 298—changed Porta Delgada to Ponta Delgada Page 298—changed reconnoissance to reconnaissance Page 354—Captain E. Libby no number of planes brought down recorded Page 365—changed axes to axis