CHAPTER XV

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

Eversince 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 Plymouthin 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 dirigibleAmericafrom 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 theAkron, 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 fromParis 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 hasbeen 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 operatingcables 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 beput 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:

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 10A. 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 7.55P. 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 8.44A. 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 3.41P. M.The NC-3 arrived at 7.31P. M.

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

On the morning of Friday, May 16, the three flying-boats left Trepassey Bay at 6.05P. M.It was a clearmoonlight 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 9.20A. 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:

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 linerMauretania, 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.

1.21A. M., from Plymouth: “NC-4 left Lisbon 6.23 (New York 2.23A. 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.”

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

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

8.11A. 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 (3.43A. M.New York time).’”

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

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

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

3.17P. M.—From Admiral Plunkett, commander of destroyer force at Plymouth: “NC-4 arrived at Plymouth 13.24 (9.24A. 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 9.50A. 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 flightacross 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 landingcrew 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. At1.24 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 acourse 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 theColumbiathrough 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 theColumbia, 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-3virtually 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 undergomuch 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, butthe 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 destroyerHarding, 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 (6.10P. 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 firedby 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 (8.50A. 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 newconditions, 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 (9.10A. 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 (1.40P. 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 theIonia. 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 (3.20P. M.New York time), and at 2.20 were on board theIonia. An effort was made to tow the plane, but the line parted. A destroyer came alongside at 00.35 (8.35P. M.New York time) and took charge of the NC-1. TheIonialanded 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 theDaily 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 aMartinsyde plane as a competitor for theDaily Mailprize 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 liftingarea 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 theDaily Mail’scontest 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 LondonDaily Mailan 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 comingdown 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 trampMary.

“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 theMaryand 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 destroyerWoolstonand 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 12.13P. 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 4.40A. 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 mistookthe 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 LondonDaily 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. Thepeople 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 heightand 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 theDaily Mailprize 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.


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