Category STORY

THE DREAM AND THE QUEST

Early man was perfectly at home on land. But water and air remained hostile.

Water could not hold him back where it was shallow. He just waded across. But he was scared to take on rivers in spate or lakes and seas. It took him quite some time to learn to swim. By flexing his limbs, he stayed above water and steered himself across. But this was tiring.

He watched logs of wood floating in water. That gave him an idea. He sat atop a log. It stayed afloat. He rode a log and forded a river in spate. It was easy. It did not tire him out. Thrilled by that experience, he shaped logs into small canoes. Canoes gave him room to sit and work the oars. He made boats of wood or reeds and sailed the high seas. Then came ships that sailed by wind power. Soon mo­tor boats and steamships took man across high seas. Water didn’t limit his movements any longer.

Man watched birds in flight. "If only I could be as deft as birds, wing my way to where I want to go!" he wished.

Man studied birds. Many facts came to light. He made a note of them: "Every bird has wings. It flaps the wings and flies up or down. The kite flaps its wings, soars to great heights, spreads its wings, stops flapping them and glides gracefully".

His studies gave wings to his imagination. He shaped angels after the human form, and lent them wings. For he believed that wings held magical powers. Those with wings could fly.

Greek mythology tells us of Bellerphon. He rode Pegasus, the winged horse, and flew toward Mount Olym­pus, the abode of gods. This place was out of bounds for man. But Bellerphon ignored the rule. Zeus, the Greek god, sent shafts of lightning. Pegasus lost its wings and thus its ability to fly. It crashed to the earth, taking Bellerphon to his doom. He became lame and blind and wandered aim­lessly till death.

Another tale tells us of Daedalus, a great inventor and engineer and a favourite of King Minos. But no one remains a favourite at court, forever. The King took offence, at a few casual comments of Daedalus, and sent him and his son Icarus into exile in the Island of Crete. Daedalus gathered feathers and used wax to glue the feathers together. He pre­pared two pairs of wings, one pair for himself and another pair for his son. He warned his son not to fly too high since the wax would melt in the sun’s heat. The feathers would drop off, the wings would be damaged and flight would become impossible.

The two took off. Icarus kept right behind his father, for some distance. Then he let caution to the wind, dipped and rolled, had fun time. How high could he fly? He wanted to find out. He soared, higher and higher, and got closer to the sun. The wax melted. The feathers flew off and Icarus crashed to his death.

In Indian mythology, Ravana abducts Sita in the Pushpak Viman. We think of it as a flying chariot. In the fa­mous work, Arabian Nights, there is the reference to the fly­ing carpet.

These tales have their roots in man’s desire to fly. Wings held the key to flying, man concluded. He worked on this idea.

In ad 1130, the Benedictine Monk Elmer of Malmsbury, Wiltshire, attached wings and took off from a mount. He crashed and broke his legs. He was lucky. Not so lucky was

Giovanni Battista Danti. In 1530, he tried to fly with wings, but came down a cropper. He paid for his misadventure with his life. Men like Elmer and Danti didn’t know that wings, per se, don’t give one the power to fly. He needs matching muscle power to lift him in the air and to flap the wings to keep him in flight. Scientists now know that no animal has that much muscle power.

Подпись: Fig. 1.1: Francesco de Lana-Terzi's flying machine Leonardo da Vinci, the famous artist, was an innova­tor too. He too wanted to fly. But he was not foolhardy. He noticed that objects, heavier than air, flew for very short duration. But gravity slowed them down and forced them to the earth. He studied the design of the boomerang used by the aborigines of Australia. He read about gliders, popu­lar in China. He watched birds in flight. Slight movement of the wing or tail helped eagles glide in space on air cur­rents without flapping the wings. Da Vinci sat down and drew pictures of wings and tails of various birds. He de­signed a birdlike flying machine. Can a machine take off verticall? He tried the airscrew machine, which is the forerunner of the helicopter. He tested the design of a parachute.

Heavy objects drifted slowly to the earth when held by strings, above which spread huge cano­pies made of cloth.

In 1670, Francesco de Lana-Terzi guessed that objects needed im­mense buoyancy to resist gravity. He designed a ""’ying mac’ ine wi ’ a ship’s hull, a mast and
four globes out of which air had been pumped out to make them lighter. It didn’t fly. But he was on the right track (Fig. 1.1).

Man didn’t have enough muscle power to flap the wings fast enough to gain buoyancy. Could machine pro­vide the power needed to fly?

Подпись: Fig. 1.2: George Cayley Sir George Cayley got a bright idea. "Success in flight would come", he said, "by making a sur­face support a given weight by the application of power to the resist­ance of air" (Fig. 1.2). In 1853, he built a glider. Its wing surface was 200 square feet. It had three pair of wings and a tailpiece. The wings curved more on top than on the bot­tom. (This design was backed by Bernoulli’s principle. An object, with a flat base and a curved top, reduces air pressure on top. This results in upward thrust). Cayley mounted the glider on wheels. It had room for a man. Cayley’s coachman got on to the glider. The glider was pulled fast across a vast open ground. It gained the speed needed to take off.

image6William Henson hailed him ‘The Father of Aviation’. He improved the design of Cayley by adding two pusher propellers and managed a short flight. He dreamed of air travel to Egypt and beyond. That ended as a pipe dream. He moved to America and spent his life advocating further research into aviation.

Alphonse Pen produced working models, powered by twisted rubber Fig. 1.3: Otto Lilienthal motors. They had only one flaw. They

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Fig. 1.4: Otto Lilienthal’s design bears a close resemblence to the hang glider that are popularly used today.

didn’t remain stable while taking turns. For that he needed moving wings. Otto Lilienthal (Fig. 1.3) shaped gliders whose wings could be bent and manipulated to maintain stability. He prepared a ‘Flying Hill’ of bricks, about 12 m high, to serve as his launching pad. He said he could fly regardless of wind’s direction. He made over 2000 flights. His flights were photographed (Fig. 1.4). All went well till 9 August 1896. On that day, Otto took off in the glider. He soared into space. Suddenly the air current weakened and the glider lost movement. Otto shifted his weight, hoping to gain support for the glider from the air current. The glider nose-dived. Otto suffered grievous inju­ries and died that night. His last words were: "Sacrifices must be made".

In 1896, Samuel Langley made two models. They gained lift with the help of a houseboat steaming down the Potomac River. The models flew well under normal condi­tions. In 1903, Langley built a full-size machine. It had a wingspan of about 15 metres and was powered by a gaso­line engine. Langley tested it twice, once in October and again in December 1903. On both occasions the engine failed. The flying machine was dumped into the river. Langley came very close to success. But success eluded nim.

Yet within a few days of Langley’s unsuccessful at­tempts, two young men, Wilbur Wright and Orville Wright, sons of a priest, reached the winning post.

WRIGHT BROTHERS IN THE RIGHT

Father Milton Wright, the Bishop of Dayton, Ohio, fumbled with the latch of the wicket gate with one hand while clutch­ing a fairly large – sized parcel in the other. His sons Wilbur and Orville noticed him, raced to the gate, lifted the latch and held the gate open.

"Thank you, my boys", Father Milton Wright beamed a happy smile, handed the parcel to Wilbur and said, "That is for you, boys". Wilbur and Orville ripped the packet open. They screamed with joy when their eyes fell on the toy heli­copter. They played with it. Its movements roused their cu­riosity. Their quest for more information on flying led them to mythological stories and from there to reports and records of the work of pioneers who had taken the quest forward.

On an earlier occasion, Father Milton had gifted bicy­cles to the two boys. Cycling had become an obsession with them. They cycled the countryside, sped along the alley­ways. They hardly found time for regular studies.

"What do you propose to do?" Father Milton asked them, once it became clear that they didn’t do well at school.

"We plan to open a cycle repair shop", Wilbur replied.

"Whatever you do, try to be the best. Be honest in your dealings. Be friendly to people. Earn a good name", the Bishop gave his assent.

Wilbur and Orville set up a shop. They always did a good job. They were polite to the clients. Their charges were reasonable. So their business flourished.

In their spare time, they fabricated more efficient bicy­cles. They had easy access to wheels and spokes and ribs to create new designs. Often they rode their new designs, over long distances, getting a measure of the resistance that wind exercised, when the vehicles moved fast. These escapades gave them clear insight of wind force and air currents. This knowledge stood them in good stead when they set out on the quest to fly.

They got a copy of the book, Progress of Flying Machines by Chanute and read it several times. It taught them how to prepare models of kites and gliders.

In May 1900, Wilbur wrote to Chanute, "For some years, I have been afflicted with the belief that flight is possible to man. My disease has increased in severity and I feel it will soon cost me an increased amoun.^of money, if not my life".

Chanute encouraged him to continue the work.

The Wright brothers spent all their spare time, testing gliders. They conducted more than a thousand test flights. Some of these tests were in wind tunnels, specially made to match the behaviour of gliders under varying wind condi­tions. These experiments taught them the importance of the direction of the wind and the speed of the air current in controlled flight. Their success would depend on choosing a suitable site where wind conditions would be favourable.

From the United States Weather Bureau, they obtained a list of ‘windy, treeless, level’ sites. They examined the suit­ability of each of the sites. Finally they selected the sandy Kill Devil Hills, 6 km south of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.

On 5 September 1900, Wilbur and Orville rode to the site and set up camp. Wilbur observed birds in flight, for several days. He noted how birds adjusted to wind direc­tion and air currents. They tilted the wings to change flight path or to take turns. That gave him the idea for moveable wings. "Thus the balance could be controlled by utilising dynamic reactions of the air instead of shifting weight",

Wilbur noted. This led to ‘wing warping’, a concept in use on aircraft even today. Wilbur and Orville patented this de­sign later.

"Can’t we mount a gas-driven internal combustion engine on a glider? It should work", Wilbur turned to Orville and Charles Taylor, a friend. He was also a good mechanic, who helped the brothers in their experiments.

"It should", Charles replied, spontaneously.

"It should, if the engine is light and hardy", added Orville.

The three men searched for long for a suitable engine. None was available. So they set down to fabricate an en­gine. They cast the engine’s body and the crankcase out of a single piece of very thin, light aluminium-copper alloy. It was a four-cylinder 12 hp engine, fuelled by gasoline.

Wilbur and Orville prepared the blueprints for the airplane and started fabricating it. It was a model with four wings. (That made it a biplane. Monoplanes have two wings). The wings were made of wood and covered by tough linen. Reinforced wires joined the wooden struts. The wires ran from a cradle-like device, on the lower wing. The cradle provided room for the pilot. It served as the cabin. He could lie in this cradle and shift his weight around to move the tips of the wing up or down. A tail rudder was added to provide stability while taking turns. Two pusher propellers were linked to the engine by bicycle chains.

At last, the brothers were ready to fly the crude con­traption. They called it, The Flyer. Preparations began in right earnest for the flight. Hard wooden rails were laid on the sloping hills. On it rested a trolley with wheels. The airplane was loaded on it. A cable connected the trolley to a pulley on top of a tower. Its free end ran over the pulley and was held down by weights. Once the weights were removed, the trolley would slide down the slope, pick up speed and provide the necessary thrust for the aircraft to get airborne.

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Fig. 2.1: The Wright brothers’ Flyer (1903)—first man-carrying powered sustained flight.

On 14 December 1903, Wilbur climbed on to the lower wing and lay flat on his stomach. His hips slid into the pad­ded wing-warping cradle. Orville made the last-minute ad­justment to the motor. The propellers provided immense thrust. Orville and a friend, Will Dough, released the weights. The trolley rolled on, picked up speed. Orville ran beside the plane, balancing it with one hand.

The Flyer lifted off (Fig. 2.1). Wilbur pulled the elevator sharply upward. (The elevator is the control mechanism that helps the pilot gain or lose height according to need. Lay men refer to the elevator as the rudder.) The aircraft surged to a height of 4.5 m before losing height. Wilbur was not quick enough to turn the rudder down. The aircraft sank to the ground, its nose up in the air. It had been in the air for just 3.5 sec. In the excitement, Wilbur forgot to shut the en­gine off when it hit the ground. The Flyer dug deep into the sand, splintering a strut and also a brace of the elevator.

This was too brief a flight to bring cheer to the two men from Dayton. They set out to repair the aircraft and make it fit for another trial. It took them two days.

"We are ready", Orville looked up, picking a few strands of wire that lay on the sand dune.

"Tomorrow will be our day", Wilbur came from under the belly of the aircraft, after making the final check of the wheels.

"I’ll alert John Daniels, Will Dough, Adam Etheridge and Bob Westcott to be present. This time, the aircraft, I hope, will stay up for a longer duration", Orville expressed his wish.

That night, they could not sleep. Their thoughts hov­ered around the grand show, scheduled for the morrow. They tossed around in their beds, dreaming of the future.

Gusty cold winds marked the dawn. But, by 10 a. m., the wind speed fell to about 30 kmph. Orville, Wilbur and the four witnesses hurried over to The Flyer, which rattled in the wind. "Heads I win. And tails you go", Wilbur pulled out a coin and tossed it up. The coin spun in space, came down and rested ‘Tails up’.

"Congratulations, Orville. You fly first today", Wilbur smiled at his younger brother.

Orville climbed on to the lower wing, lay flat on it, and pulled the bicycle chain that started the engine. The

12 hp Wright engine

image9

Fig. 2.2: The wing warping system.

propeller roared. The plane purred with life. Wilbur ran long, while Bob Westcott clung to a stopwatch. Daniels adjusted the camera, ready to record the historic flight. Etheridge and Will Dough removed the blocks in front of the skids of the trolley. The trolley picked up speed. The aircraft’s propeller rotated fast, giving the necessary thrust. The Flyer rose with a shudder. Soon it gained a height of about 3.3 m. For 12 sec it remained airborne, covering a distance of 36.3 m (Fig. 2.2).

The aircraft was taken back to the starting point. Now Wilbur got on. He flew a distance of 53 m. The timing could not be recorded. Orville flew next, covering 55 m in 15 sec. On the fourth attempt, Wilbur flew 200 m in 59 sec.

Next day, The Virginia-Pilot reported the event in head­line:

FLYING MACHINE SOARS IN TEETH OF HIGH WIND OVER SAND

HILLS AND WAVES AT KITTY HAWK ON CAROLINA COAST.

The sub-heading read:

NO BALLOON ATTACHED TO IT. TWO YEARS OF HARD, SECRET WORK

BY TWO OHIO BROTHERS CROWNED WITH SUCCESS. WITH MAN AS

PASSENGER HUGE MACHINE FLEW LIKE BIRD UNDER PERFECT

CONTROL.

The report began with the words, "The problem of aerial navigation without the use of a balloon has been solved". It described Wilbur as ‘well-groomed, raven-haired and swarthy with piercing blue eyes’. Orville was ‘sandy­haired, with sparkling blue eyes’ (Fig. 2.3).

It was a small beginning. Yet it was a major triumph. Years later, Orville noted, "I would hardly think today of making my first flight on a strange machine, even if I knew that it had already been flown and was safe. After these years of experience, I look with amazement on our audacity in attempting flights with a new and untried machine".

image10

Fig. 2.3: Wright brothers

Who would have heard of Wilbur and Orville if they had not been audacious and had lacked the courage to try the untried? If they had not dared, the credit for such a flight would have gone to Alberto Santos-Dumont. But that is another story.

з

CROSSING THE ENGLISH CHANNEL

Santos-Dumont had already won the Deutsche prize of 1,00,000 Francs, flying an airship (balloon), around the Eif­fel Tower (Fig. 3.1). He now turned his attention to gliders and kites. Could he install a motor and steer them along? How would such flights be different from those on dirigi­bles (balloons powered by motors)? The possibilities seemed immense. So Santos-Dumont resolved to master the art of flying a giant kite, powered by a motor. He read all avail­able material on kites and gliders. Soon he was familiar with their designs.

Among his friends were professors and engineers. They educated him on the role of aerodynamics in designing kites. They suggested a box-type kite. The frame would be made of wood. The body would be covered with muslin. The en­gine would be suitably mounted. The kite would fly tail first.

Santos-Dumont spent a huge sum, designing the kite. Alas! He didn’t know that the Wright brothers had beaten him in the race for honours. In September 1906, he was ready to fly a giant box-shaped kite. It had two sets of wings and was mounted on bicycle wheels. This, the designer said, would facilitate smooth landing. An eight-cylinder Antoinette engine was installed. The kite got airborne. It flew, tail forward, for 8 sec, covering a distance of 11.3 m. The landing was smooth. On 12 November 1906, Santos – Dumont repeated the experiment. He flew 155 m in 22 sec.

image11

This won him a prize of value Rs. 20,000. (Quite a tidy sum, in those days.)

Everyone hailed him as a pioneer. Santos-Dumont be­lieved he had created history. He basked in the limelight, but this euphoria did not last long. He learnt of the Wright brothers and of their flight, at Kitty Hawk, in December 1903. He had struggled against all odds, only to come second in the race. That was a severe blow.

But he was the first man to circle the Eiffel Tower in a dirigible. That gave him some consolation. It assured him a place in the roll of honour in the history of aviation.

In 1909, Lord Radcliffe of The Daily Mail, London, of­fered a prize (value about Rs. 1 lakh then) to the first man who flew an aircraft across the English Channel. Many young men considered the offer, but backed out when they became aware of the grave risks.

No standard aircraft was available. So anyone who wanted the prize money had to prepare a flying machine on his own. Few people had the skill and the money to do that. Moreover the weather over the English Channel was
unpredictable. Gusty winds and spiralling air currents could toss the aircraft around, tear it apart; or the engine could get flooded with gasoline and stop working.

Подпись: Fig. 3.2: Louis Bleriot The risk was worth taking, thought Louis Bleriot, of France (Fig. 3.2).. Flying was his hobby. He was a daredevil. Many were the tum­bles that he took during his previous flights with kites and gliders. He had broken his skull; pulled his calf mus­cle; limped for a fortnight after being thrown out of a glider, as it came in to land; received hard knocks and se­vere bruises on several occasions.

These painful experiences, however, did not dampen his love for flying. He returned to fly after periods of enforced rest, after the mishaps.

Bleriot heard about the prize. He designed a mono­plane. (Each wing had a span of 7 m), mounted on three wheels, two in front and one in the rear. A three-cylinder Anzani engine provided the power. It was ready by the middle of July 1909. Bleriot made plans to take off from the open ground at Le Baraques, Calais.

Hubert Latham, a leading flyer of France, too was after the prize money. He set out from Sangatte near Calais on 19 July 1909. The engine developed trouble while flying over the Channel. It spluttered, coughed, went into convulsions and then ceased to work. The aircraft lost height. Latham landed on choppy waters. A French naval vessel rescued him. He tried and failed.

Latham would try again, thought Bleriot. He was still on crutches, after a recent accident. Yet he decided to take the challenge. He told his friends, "It’s only a short flight. It shouldn’t take more than forty minutes. So please keep watch. When the weather holds good, I shall fly".

Bleriot was still in bed at 3 a. m. on 25 July 1909, when he was woken up by sharp knocks on the door. He sat up in bed. The pounding on the door continued. It took Bleriot some time to get hold of the crutches, adjust them and hob­ble to the door. Framed against the door stood a friend.

"Good Morning. We’ve been told that the weather shall hold today. So…" the friend walked in.

"Wonderful. I shall be ready in a minute", Bleriot hur­ried to the bathroom.

Bleriot took the monoplane, the BLERIOT XI, on a test flight, circled the ground twice and came back for gas. After filling the fuel tank, he restarted the engine. His friends crowded near the cockpit. He shook hands with them. As they drew back, he pulled the throttle. The aircraft rolled on, picked up speed and took to the air gracefully (Fig. 3.3). The men on the ground cheered. Someone checked the time. It was 4.35 a. m.

The aircraft flew at a height of 75 m. A French naval ship sailed the Channel, keeping an eye on the aircraft. It was assigned to help Bleriot in case his aircraft developed trouble and he was forced to land on the waters.

Bleriot felt right on top of the world as the aircraft flew

image13

Fig. 3.3: First flight across the English Channel by LouisBItriot іГнїЗГ©:

over the Channel. He flew so fast (64 kmph) that the ship was left far behind. He had no compass and did not know whether he was heading in the right direction. He was half way through when the engine hissed. It was getting heated. A nameless fear gripped him. Would the engine fail him, force him to down his aircraft in the waters of the Channel?

He felt a blob of water on his cheek. He reached out for it, and his hand became wet with raindrops. The rain came just in time. It cooled the engine. The aircraft flew on, without any further trouble. Bleriot sighted the cliffs of Do­ver, to the west of his flight path, and changed the direc­tion. The aircraft now pushed against the wind, headed to­ward Dover. Bleriot touched down on a green field, at Northfall Meadow, just behind Dover Castle. (It was close to the spot from where two balloonists, Dr Jeffries and Blanchard, had undertaken the first balloon flight across the Channel, more than hundred years back). Bleriot won the prize and the laurels.

A month later Bleriot entered the Great Air Meet at Reims in France. He competed with more than 30 pilots. But he lost. Glenn Curtiss of the United States recorded a speed of 77 kmph and won top honours (Fig. 3.4). It was one more feather in Glenn’s cap. Earlier he had bagged prizes offered by the Scientific American and the New York Aero Club.

The organisations wanted to find out how much con­trol man had gained over the aircraft. Could anyone fly on a day, specified in advance? Could he cover a distance of at least 1 km? Such a man deserved the prize. Curtiss accepted the challenge. He announced in advance that he would fly on 4 July 1908 (National Day of the United States).

But, 4 July 1908 turned out to be a wet and rainy day. Yet a large crowd collected at the venue. They waited, with umbrellas, raincoats and parasols protecting them from the rain. It rained the whole day. Only around sunset did the
sky clear. Curtiss climbed into the cockpit of his plane, the June Bug. He started the motor, opened up the throttle and nudged the aircraft into flight. He groaned when the flight ended after covering less than 1 km.

Подпись:He tried again. This time, he covered nearly 2 km. Sweet were the fruits of success. Curtiss savoured his victory.

He had proved that one could fly at any time of one’s choosing.

Could the aircraft help national defence? Experts studied the possibil­ity. But they didn’t bring a sense of urgency to the task. For the world was at peace. There were minor skirmishes, but they didn’t streak the sky with war clouds. An assassina­tion whipped up the power needed to herd in the clouds to darken the scene.

WINGS INTO WAR

Peace claimed its victims. The victims were young, daring fighter pilots. They were demobilised, knocked out of ac­tion. But the knocks did not leave them down and out. Many of them found new areas of activities.

John Alcock and Arthur Witten-Brown had served the Royal Air Force as fighter pilots (Fig. 5.1). They did not like being grounded. How could they get a chance, once again, to fly?

Alcock heard, while spending an evening at the club, in late 1918, with a friend, of a prize of 10,000 pounds of­fered by the Daily Mail to the first person to fly non-stop across the Atlantic.

image22"This is one flight I can undertake. If only I can find a sponsor, who gets me an aircraft and also provides funds to equip it…" Alcock didn’t complete the sentence.

"That shouldn’t be a prob­lem", the friend mumbled.

"So, where do you see a problem?" Alcock said edgily.

"It’s a mission fraught with danger", the friend warned.

"That’s the least of my Fig – 5.1: John Alcock and worry", Alcock Smiled wryly. Arthur Witten-Brown.

"I’ll make a bid, if I get necessary backing", Alcock replied.

He discussed the matter with Arthur Witten-Brown, a former RAF fighter pilot, and asked, "If I ask you to fly with me?"

"I’ll jump at the offer", Brown responded with joy.

"That’s a deal", Alcock reached out for Brown’s hand.

A checklist of possible patrons was prepared. This list helped them find support for their project.

Which aircraft should they fly? They remembered the Vickers Vimy biplane, which they had flown during the war on bombing missions. It was a large plane, powered by two Rolls-Royce engines. It had speed and strength.

"WeTl have to fly from the American end", pointed out Brown.

"I know. Air currents make a flight, across the Atlantic, heading toward Europe, easier", Alcock smiled.

The two got hold of a bomber, dismantled it and carted it, in sections, to St. John’s, New Foundland, and set up camp (Fig. 5.2). The site for assembling the aircraft lay at an open ground called Mundy’s Pond. The two secured assistance of a handful of enthusiastic mechanics and reassembled the aircraft. They attached additional fuel where the aircraft once ’ carried bombs. Some space for storage of fuel was provided in the wings too (Fig. 5.3).

image23

Fig. 5.2: Vickers Vimy bomber

While these preparations were under way, the Ameri­can Navy launched a hopping flight across the Atlantic. Curtiss co-ordinated the technical details of the flight. Lt. Commander J. H. Towers led the group of four seaplanes.

Seaplanes and flying boats take off and land on water. Due to lack of runways, normal airplanes could not operate as passenger carriers. The seaplanes and the flying boats, therefore, were used extensively to transport people around till about 1950.

The seaplanes set out on 8 May 1919. One of the planes developed problems and dropped out. The others, after a few halts, reached Lisbon on 20 May. A week later, they flew to Plymouth, England. It was not a non-stop flight. So Alcock and Brown were not unduly upset.

Cause for worry came from another source. At St John’s, two daring pilots, Harry G. Hawker and Mackenzie Grieve, were making the final preparations to fly a single-engine Sopwith biplane across the Atlantic. They set out on 18 May 1919. Alcock and Brown cursed their fate. Had they come so far, only to be beaten in the race by their competitors? That thought nagged them, while they waited for further reports of the flight of the Sopwith.

image24

Harry G. Hawker and Mackenzie Grieve flew toward the Irish coast. The engine coughed and spluttered after covering about 1,800 km. The deep blue stretch of the sea menacingly closed in as the plane lost height and tumbled into the waters. A tramper rescued the bobbing men from the waters. Thus ended their bid for the prize.

The news lifted the spirits of Alcock and Brown. They hurried with the final preparation.

14 June 1919 was a bright sunny day. Reports indicated that the weather would hold, for some time. Of course, no­body took such predictions seriously. The weather could turn bad, suddenly, without warning. The two pilots got into the cockpit. Alcock started the engine. He pulled the throttle. The aircraft raced along the bumpy, uneven field. The wings, laden with fuel, drooped. The aircraft lifted off, sluggishly, just a few feet before it reached the block of trees that cir­cled the field. The aircraft skimmed inches above the trees.

For a couple of hours, the aircraft was nudged faster by the tailwind. That gave an added 64 kmph to the normal cruising speed of 145 kmph of the aircraft.

The first setback for the fliers came when the radio conked off. Thus the plane’s communication line was snapped. Soon, the airplane began to rattle. A quick check by Alcock made him shiver. The exhaust of the right engine had cracked. It was quivering as if mad, while tongues of flame danced around the crack. For a moment, Alcock thought it marked the end of their mission. Then hope surged up. He told himself, "We’ve weathered many a storm, during the days in the RAF. So, even this threat may pass".

It did pass. But soon the plane ran into massive air turbulence. Vertical air currents spun the plane, viciously. The plane lost height. It came as close as 20 m of the sea. Alcock pulled at the stick, frantically. The plane quivered. Then its nose rose and Alcock and Brown sighed in relief. The plane regained altitude.

John Alcock steered the plane above the clouds and the fog. The plane faced a new danger. Sleet and snow hit the plane.

Подпись:The roar of the en­gines was loud.

The two men could not even talk to each other, find out how they could face the threat.

Brown acted on his own. He grabbed a knife and climbed out of the cockpit, crawled over the right wing, got close to the engine and scraped the blocks of ice that coated the engine (Fig. 5.4). Back he went to repeat the operation with the sec­ond engine. It was a very risky operation. A sudden gust of wind, a surge of air current would have sent Brown plum­meting into the icy waters, below.

Alcock decided to fly at a lower altitude. The fog had cleared. For seven hours, the weather tested the limits of endurance of the pilots.

At last, it was day. Visibility was good. Brown scanned the scene ahead of him. Suddenly the southern tip of Ire­land came into view. Brown could not contain his joy. He screamed, above the roar of the engines. But, Alcock could not make out what he was saying. He could only notice Brown holding out the hand, pointing toward a hazy curved line beyond the waters. The sea seemed to be kept back by the hazy line. Beyond the line lay land, the Irish coast. That

awareness touched his lips with a thin smile.

Alcock checked the maps, read the compass and made quick calculations. The plane was heading toward the small town of Clifden, some distance off Galway, the original tar­get the pilots had set.

Alcock circled the land. Brown spotted a vast ‘open ground’. Alcock started the descent. The aircraft touched down, in the centre of a muddy patch. The wheels of the aircraft lay buried in mud. Quickly, the two men on board the aircraft got out, splashed their way through the mud and reached firm ground. "That’s it", Alcock hugged Brown. The two stood, with tears of joy streaking down their cheeks. It was their moment of triumph. They had crossed the At­lantic without a halt in between.

This triumph made them heroes. Wherever they went, large crowd mobbed them. Young boys and girls crowded around them, seeking autographs. Cameras clicked, catch­ing their profiles on films for eternity. They received the prize money. That cheered them. But happier still were they when the King of England knighted them, at a special function at the Buckingham Palace.

In 1914, the Archduke Ferdinand of Austria was assassi­nated. The tragedy rocked the whole of Europe. War clouds gathered. Efforts to avert a war failed. The Astro-Hungar – ian Empire, Germany and Turkey, formed a group. Pitted against them were the Allies, composed of Britain, France, Russia, Italy, Japan and the United States. First World War broke out.

Nations at war have, since time immemorial, adopted many strategies to gain their ends. Among them, the effort to gather information about the enemy’s strength and for­mation remains vital. It was so during the First World War too.

Field scouts fanned out, sneaked, as close as they could, to the enemy lines. They stayed beyond the firing range of the enemy, watched through telescopes and gathered infor­mation.

Manual scouting almost ended when machine guns, invented by Fliram Maxim, came into use. The enemy de­fended his camps with machine guns. The scouts could not get close enough to gather information.

On earlier occasions, balloons had been used for aerial survey of enemy positions. Could not aircraft perform the job better? The possibilities seemed immense. Both sides started working on this idea. The existing aircraft were re­designed. Additions and alterations made them sleeker, faster and easier to fly. The cameras on board recorded

enemy formations and camps while the aircraft flew at heights well beyond the range of guns on the ground. Aerial reconnaissance became the order of the day.

How could enemy snooping be stopped? Instructions were issued to designers of aircraft to come up with ways and means to stop the predators. They considered various options and finally came up with a single-seater fighter air­craft, equipped with guns, to intercept and down enemy aircraft, engaged in aerial survey.

image15This was just the beginning. Soon came a brilliant idea. Can’t single-seated aircraft fly over enemy territory and drop bombs? That marked the birth of bombers. New designs improved the speed and manoeuvra­bility and fighting power of the air­craft.

The air was no longer a safe place. In March 1915, Raymond Saulnier invented a bullet deflection device (BDD). It was tacked to the propeller of a monoplane. Powered by a rotary engine of 110 hp, it had a maximum speed of 165 kmph and flew at an altitude of 2000 m. The

image16

BDD timed the gun to fire when the Fig. 4.1: Rolland Garros

image17

Fig. 4.3: Fokker monoplane

rotating blades were not in the way of the gun. This device proved very effective. Roland Garros (Fig. 4.1), a French pi­lot, used this device to shoot down three enemy aircraft during one mission (Fig. 4.2).

The Germans were not far behind. They developed the Fokker, a small aircraft (Fig. 4.3). Its top speed was 130 kmph. A fleet of 50 such aircraft went into action against the Al­lies. They turned out to be a real scourge. Aerial bombing caused severe damage to people and property. The English and the French reeled under the attack.

German designers produced special types of aircraft to serve specific needs. Training for pilots became scientific

image18

and systematic. Pilots mastered the art of flying in forma­tion. This led to development of Squadrons with defined duties. Repair centres were also set up. Germany continued to make headway in exploiting the air power.

Britain and France found the answer to the Fokker air­craft in new designs. In 1915, Capt. Geoffrey de Havilland produced the D4-2. It could fly at a speed of 140 kmph. The Fokker could not match it in speed and dexterity. The Germans, in turn, improved on the French aircraft Neuport and produced Albatros D-l (Fig. 4.4). It had dual machine guns, with double the fire power, mounted near the cockpit. The Albatros carried out attacks on Britain in April 1917. (Historians refer to the period as Bloody April). England lost 151 planes; Germany just 51. German bomb­ers, called Gothas, carried out aerial bombing even during the day. The Allies were unequal to this assault. The chances of holding back Germany looked bleak.

Then came the turn of fortune. The United States joined the Allies. Britain designed the Sopwith Camel, an excellent fighter aircraft (Fig. 4.5). The Bristol Fighter and Spad XIII were two new aircraft that strengthened British air strength. Germany refined the Fokker to produce the Fokker D VII,

image19

with a maximum speed of 192 kmph at an altitude of 7,000 m.

Most of the aircraft had limitations. The Gothas were tail-heavy. So pilots had trouble keeping the aircraft steady at landing. The lower wing of the Albatros twisted easily while the aircraft dived. All aircraft shared one danger. Of­ten the fuel tank caught fire. Pilots didn’t have parachutes. So they could not bail out when their aircraft were hit. They faced a fiery end. Often they shot themselves before the fire got to them.

The War proved the importance of air power in war. The men who headed Britain’s War Office realised this and held meetings to debate the issue. These deliberations led to the formation of the Royal Air Force on 1 April 1918.

That marked the culmination of a small, hesitant start made in 1908. In the same year, on 16 October, the first British Army Plane, designed by Cody, flew a distance of 410 m. That was just a flash in the pan. After the flight, a cost study was undertaken. The project had cost over 2,500 pounds. That was considered too high. Further work on the aircraft was shelved and the factory shut down.

However, within a year, Britain received a new jolt. Louis Bleriot flew across the English Channel. That flight was an eye-opener for the British. For centuries, the people had looked upon the English Channel as a God-given defence, a natural moat. It had warded off attacks by sea, on several occasions in the past. Bleriot’s crossing of the Channel marked the end of the Channel’s invincibility. The Channel could not provide any defence against air attack.

Around this time came reports of progress by France and Germany in aviation. Bleriot, Deperdessin, Morane and Farman, four French companies, took the lead in the pro­duction of aircraft. Britain could buy French aircraft. But that would leave Britain dependent on the French. Self-reli­ance became the need of the hour.

The old factory was re­started. Geoffrey de Havilland, who had the requisite expertise, joined the factory as designer and test pilot (Fig. 4.6). He de­veloped the two-seater biplane model B. E. 1. It was improved and developed as the B. E. 2 (Fig. 4.7).

Подпись: Fig. 4.6: Geoffrey de Havilland The formation of the Royal Air Force came months before ■’ – y J d. В t, ‘ the brief span, the newly designed fighter aircraft hunted down

enemy submarines and ships, and carried out heavy bomb­ing of enemy installations and formations.

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The War ended. The Allies won. Peace returned. Hu­man development needed more funds. Investment in de­fence came in for pruning. Would it affect the progress of aviation? It could have but for the farsightedness of Winston Churchill (he later became Prime Minister of England and

led the nation to victory in the Second World War), who was the Secretary of State for both War and the Royal Air Force (RAF). He backed the RAF to the hilt, encouraged es­tablishment of schools to train pilots. Mock fights and air stunts won public backing to the Air Force.

The pilots did not remain idle. The RAF saw action in campaigns against tribals in British colonies. It flew in to contain troubles in Iraq in 1922. In 1928, tribal groups of Afghanistan, led by Kabibullah Khan, rose in revolt. The men surrounded the British Legation at Kabul and took 586 people as captives. How could the captives be rescued? The terrain was mountainous, rugged, mostly snow-covered. Wild winds swirled around. The Royal Air Force was as­signed the task of airlifting the captives. The pilots rose to the occasion. The operation was truly hazardous. The weather was unpredictable. The terrain was hostile. Yet the pilots completed the rescue, despite ceaseless gunfire from the ground.

Each successful operation gave a stimulus to research in aircraft design. Powerful engines and new designs en­hanced the speed and range of aircraft. The First World War had given a big boost to aviation.