Archive for the 'Aviation' Category

Red Tail Stories

I would like to think that I’ve always known the inspirational story of the Tuskegee Airmen—the groundbreaking pilots of the 332nd Fighter Group and the 477th Bombardment Group.  (The first African American military aviators in the racially segregated armed forces during World War II, whose bravery both in the air and on the air field lead to Truman signing Executive Order 9981 desegregating the armed forces in 1948).

Sadly, when I started at the National Air and Space Museum almost eight years ago, I did not.  The first family program I produced, African American Pioneers in Aviation, had for many years featured the Tuskegee Airmen.  Since I had limited time to develop a new program, I continued the tradition—and fell in love.

 

tuskegee

The Tuskegee Airmen at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC in 2011 — Standing Room Only

I have invited them to every African American family day since then and have been inspired by their stories. I also have stories about them.  There are too many to tell all, but here are few.  One year, we had NASA astronaut Col. Alvin Drew as a featured speaker.  The Tuskegee Airmen decided that they wanted to hear him speak.  I ran ahead to ask visitors if they minded giving up their seats for the Airmen.  Not only did they give up their seats without question, but one gentleman took off his hat, held it to his heart and said “it gives me chills to see them here listening to the astronaut.”  Another year, a featured speaker was former astronaut Dr. Mae Jemison, the first African American woman in space.  One of the Tuskegee Airman asked if I thought they could meet Dr. Jemison.  Of course I immediately escorted them to her, and I cannot tell you who was more excited about the meeting.

Tuskegee & Jemison

Former NASA astronaut, Dr. Mae Jemison, meeting members of the East Coast Chapter of the Tuskegee Airmen.

This last story speaks to what is so good and true about these men.  They did their jobs with bravery and a special type of courage—the will to succeed when so many people assume you will fail just because of the color of your skin.  Yet, they are often modest about their accomplishments; although generous in sharing their time and memories with those who want to hear of them.

I invite you to learn more about the Tuskegee Airmen.  Come visit the Pioneers of Flight exhibition at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC, or visit the online version.  Here you will learn about the early African American aviators who paved the way for the Tuskegee Airmen, and about the importance of their legacy.  Or, you can try out an online interactive and fly a mission with the Airmen. Want to meet some actual Tuskegee Airmen?  Come to the National Mall Building on Saturday, February 11, 2012 or to the Udvar-Hazy Center, on Saturday, February 24, 2012 for African American Pioneers in Aviation Family Day.

The National Air and Space Museum’s African American Family Days are part of the Heritage Family Day Series, sponsored by Northrop Grumman Corporation.

Mychalene Giampaoli is the family programs coordinator for the National Air and Space Museum’s Washington, DC building.

Blimp!

The newest arrival in the National Air and Space Museum’s inventory of historic aircraft is the C-49 airship control car. Produced by Goodyear Tire and Rubber, it first took to the air as the pressure airship  Enterprise (NC-16A) on August 23, 1934. The craft operated in the Washington, D.C. and New York metropolitan areas until November 1941, when it was flown back to Wingfoot Lake, Akron, Ohio to serve as a training craft. Early in WW II it patrolled northern Ohio checking on compliance with blackout regulations.

 

good year

The Goodyear blimp Columbia N4A, utilizing the C-49 car launches from the Marine Corps Air Station , Tustin, Ca. circa 1978.

Acquired by the US Navy in 1942, the craft was shipped to Moffett Field, California. Re-designated L-5 it spent most of the war as a training craft but saw some patrol duty. Re-acquired by Goodyear on January 24, 1946, the control car was rebuilt to operate with the new GZ-20 class commercial blimps in 1969 and registered as N4A on May 12, 1970. It was back in the air once again as the airship Columbia IV in July 1975, and remained in service for over a decade, logging thousands of hours of passenger flights, night sign messaging, and corporate service.

Black Sunday

Black Sunday

The control car saw duty over the 1977, 1980, 1983, and 1985 Super Bowls; the 1981 and 1984 World Series; Rose Bowl games and parades; and the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. It starred in the Hollywood thriller Black Sunday (1977) and made appearances in several other films. C-49 spans much of the history of the pressure airship in America and represents the wide range of military and commercial roles played by blimps. The car was permanently retired in 1986 and made its final journey to the Smithsonian in November 2011.

The arrival of this historic control car provides an excuse to offer some thoughts on the etymology of the word “blimp.” First, some basic definitions. All Zeppelins are dirigibles, but not all dirigibles are Zeppelins. A dirigible is any powered lighter-than-air craft capable of maneuvering. For the linguistically fastidious, a Zeppelin is a rigid airship manufactured by the Zeppelin Company, or by Goodyear-Zeppelin, the American firm that produced the two great U.S. naval airships,  ZRS-4, USS Akron (1931-1933), and ZRS-5, USS  Macon (1933-1935).

Rigid airships have internal frameworks of metal or wood that gives the craft its shape. The lifting gas, hydrogen or helium, is contained in large gas cells inside the framework. Non-rigid airships, or pressure airships, maintain their shape only because the pressure inside the envelope, or gas bag, is slightly higher than the external air pressure. Let the lifting gas out and the envelope is an empty bag lying on the ground.

Pressure airships are commonly known as blimps. The origin of that term has caused a good many arguments. One story relates to an English officer, Lt. A.D. Cunningham, RN,  who entered a hangar containing a pressure airship in 1915. He was unable to resist plunking his finger on the gas bag, which produced the sound “blimp.” By noon that day his mess mates were applying the word to their gas bags. Another accounts claims that Horace Short, the famous British aircraft builder, took one look at an early Sea Scout airship, with a B.E.2C airplane fuselage hanging beneath a gas bag, and immediately dubbed the thing a blimp, commenting, “What else would you call it?”

Whatever the origin of the name, blimps have been delighting us since the late 19th century. C-49, one of the longest-lived of all Goodyear airships, will proudly represent her kind for generations to come at the Museum’s Udvar-Hazy Center.

 

C-49

Goodyear C-49 airship control car

 

Tom D. Crouch is a senior curator of the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

When puppets tell the story…

At the National Air and Space Museum, we tell stories in a number of ways — through objects, artwork, lectures, videos, planetarium shows — even puppets. Storytelling through puppetry can be a powerful educational tool for our youngest audiences in particular. Puppets have the ability to bring stories and objects in the Museum to life. Young children are concrete learners; they learn through direct experiences. Using puppets in the Museum is a wonderful way to engage young audiences.

We are thrilled to host a return engagement of  “The Wright Brothers: A Musical Play,” a show using shadow puppets, hand puppets, wide mouth puppets, human arm puppets, and  live actors to bring to life the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright and the world’s first successful, manned, heavier-than-air, self-propelled flying machine.  The show’s creator and founder of Rainbow Puppet Productions, David Messick, has been a professional puppeteer for 35 years. He was inspired by his childhood love for Captain Kangaroo, the Muppets, and musicals.

 

Rainbow Puppet Productions

Using a variety of puppets in combination with live actors, Rainbow Puppet Productions brings to life the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright.

Originally created in 2003 for the 100th anniversary of the Orville and Wilbur Wright’s first flight, the show has undergone revision to add more interaction with the audience. David hopes that the show leaves the audience curious and inspired to learn more. “I always try to work into the script something that is in the Wright Brothers gallery that is not in the show,” says David, “the puppet show gets children thinking, laughing, having a good time — we give them just enough to get them excited to go upstairs and see the real Wright Flyer and the objects that are integral to the Wright brothers’ story.”

Young children today live in a world where aircraft and spacecraft are everywhere. How was David able to take the story of the Wright brothers, who invented the airplane more than 100 years ago, and make it meaningful, and relatable, to young audiences? He recalls “having a dream as a kid, flying, like Peter Pan flying… what a cool feeling that would be. I remembered that feeling of curiosity and wonder. This is the heart of the story. So I created a scene in which Wilbur tells Orville, ‘can you imagine what it would really be like if we could fly like an eagle?’ We even have the puppet leave the stage and soar over the audience.” That curiosity is something that all young children can relate to, and it makes events in history become more real.

 

eagle

Wilbur asks Orville, "Can you imagine what it would really be like if we could fly like an eagle?"

There are many themes in the story of the Wright Brothers that are important life-lessons for young children and adults alike. While the puppet show teaches children the simplified physics of flight through a whimsical song, “Power, Lift, Control,” more than that, the show illustrates the importance of scientific discovery, curiosity, and trying, and retrying, again and again.

 

power, lift, control

The Wright Brothers puppet show teaches three properties of flight through props and whimsical song, "Power, Lift, Control."

Success in anything, from engineering to teaching, comes from testing and retesting whatever it is that you create. David knows this lesson very well, saying that when developing the Wright Brothers puppet show he had to try again and again until he got it right. “At some point” he says, “you have to trust yourself, just like the Wright brothers”.

Come see the show on Saturday, January 28 at two free performances at 11:30 and 1:00.

Lizzie Cammarata is an early childhood program specialist at the Mall Building.

Sweet Moments in a Sopwith

For those of us who study the very early history of the airplane, the sight and sound of a World War I rotary engine running is a thrill that leaves a lasting impression.  To fly in a rotary powered World War I airplane is a transformative experience.  A few weeks ago I was transformed.  I had the opportunity to fly in a Sopwith 1 ½ Strutter, a First World War British two-seater, powered by an original Gnome rotary engine.  I’m still giddy over having flown a rotary engine powered airplane, and everyone at the Museum is jealous, including our Director, General Dailey, one of the most experienced pilots I know.

 

Peter and Sopwith

Peter Jakab about to make his dream flight in a WWI Sopwith 1 ½ Strutter.

 

The rotary aircraft engine was an imaginative design that emerged just after the birth of flight, was the power plant for many of the most famous aircraft in the pioneer era through World War I, and was obsolete by 1920.   Most engines, be they in-line, V-arrangement, or radial (cylinders in star orientation around the crankcase) have a rotating crankshaft to which the pistons are connected that transform the combustion of fuel and air into mechanical output, which in turn spins the propeller.  With a rotary engine, the design concept was reversed.  The crankshaft was stationary, attached to the airframe, and the rest of the entire engine, propeller attached, spun.  The design had two principal advantages.  First, the spinning cylinders provided excellent cooling to the engine.  Second, the rotary configuration offered a good power output to weight ratio.  These early power plants produced relatively low horsepower, so weight was a critical factor in the overall performance of the engine.  The rotaries had major drawbacks, such as the shedding of cylinders from the spinning engine and a tendency to catch fire.  But in the early days of aviation these hazards were outweighed by the relatively good power output for the engine’s weight.  By the 1920s, equal and better performance was achieved with stationary cylinder engines and the rotary quickly disappeared from the scene.

 

Gnome Rotary Engine

Gnome 9N Rotary, 160 horsepower

The rotary engine was an interesting technological design, but it has acquired an interesting cultural status among those drawn to the early years of flight as well.  It had a unique sound because the engine typically ran at full power or was off, producing a seemingly alarming rhythm to the uninitiated.  Its castor oil lubricant, spewing effusively from the spinning cylinders, produced a distinctive odor.  There was the pronounced torque of the whirling engine and propeller combination affecting the stability of the airplane.  All these characteristics, unique to the short-lived rotary engine, made it famous, and are coveted to experience by any modern enthusiast of World War I aviation.  Today, there are few places where these near-century old engines come to life.  There are a handful of flying aircraft museums that occasionally fly airplanes with rotaries for the public, and there is a small number of private vintage aircraft owners who take to the air behind these amazing engines.  I was fortunate to grow up not far from one these special settings where rotary powered airplanes regularly flew—the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome Museum near Poughkeepsie, New York.  Beginning as a teenager in the 1970s, I would frequent the Aerodrome often to watch the air shows and talk with the pilots.  It was where my love of early aviation took hold.  Over the years, no matter how many times I saw, heard, and yes, smelled, the rotary engines flying up at Old Rhinebeck, I was always captivated.  Since that time, one of the experiences at the very top of my curatorial bucket list has been to fly in a rotary engine powered World War I airplane.  This past December, after nearly three decades of curating the early history of the airplane at the National Air and Space Museum, I was fortunate and privileged to have crossed this off my list.

 

Peter in Sopwith

The WWI pilots just back from a successful mission.

A supporter and great friend to the Museum, who has a personal collection of more than two dozen flying World War I airplanes, invited me to his home and private airfield to treat me to a flying experience of a lifetime.  He knew of my longtime desire to fly in one of these airplanes that I have so passionately studied, and we talked about doing it for a couple of years.  In December, the circumstances were right, the weather was good, and the opportunity finally arrived.  Most of the aircraft in his collection are reproduction airframes, but nearly all have original World War I engines.  Lucky for me, one of these airplanes is a two-seater—a Sopwith 1 ½ Strutter.  On a crisp and clear Sunday morning, we pulled up to the airfield.  There, sitting out on the grass strip, with no evidence of the 21st century in sight, just like it was 1916, was the airplane ready to be propped.  After donning the traditional leather flying helmet and goggles we climbed into the Sopwith, and then the moment came.  The Gnome rotary roared to life.  After a brief taxi to get into take-off position, the engine was brought to full power and in just a short distance we were airborne.  My host circled around the field a few times and then he signaled it was my turn at the controls.  I couldn’t believe it.  Here I was actually flying a World War I rotary engine powered biplane.  The sound, the feel of the controls, the open cockpit—all the things I had read about and studied were now part of my personal experience.  After a few more minutes of pure flying joy, we landed.  Out of the airplane we discussed our “mission” as pilots always do, with smiles on our faces.  It was a truly remarkable experience for me.  The next time I lecture at the Museum about World War I flying, more so than ever before, I will feel confident that I know what I am talking about.  I’ve done it.

Peter Jakab is associate director and curator of early flight at the National Air and Space Museum.

Hollywood’s Representation of Naval Aviation: Frank W. “Spig” Wead and John Ford’s “The Wings of Eagles” (1957)

Introduction

During the recently completed centennial of naval aviation (2011), there were many and varied tributes to the factual history of naval aviation. Nevertheless, we cannot forget that public perception of the armed forces is also a strong historical consideration. In Sailing on the Silver Screen: Hollywood and the U.S. Navy, Lawrence Suid has observed that “for most of the past ninety years the American film industry and the U.S. Navy have worked together to their mutual benefit. Hollywood used the Navy to obtain—at little or no cost—personnel, equipment, and locations for movies filled with adventure, romance, and drama. In turn, the Navy obtained—at little or no cost—a positive public image that boosted both its recruiting efforts and its relations with Congress.” This is especially true if we consider how the careers of two pioneers of Hollywood and the U.S. Navy—director John Ford and screenwriter Frank W. “Spig” Wead became intertwined during the Golden Era of filmmaking and how Ford paid tribute to his friend and colleague in The Wings of Eagles (1957).

 

Frank Wead

Frank W. “Spig”’ Wead was a pioneer naval aviator who became a notable Hollywood screenwriter. His many credits include films about the U.S Navy or naval aviation.

 

Wead’s Early Naval Career

Wead was born on October 24, 1885, in Peoria, Illinois. He entered the U.S. Naval Academy in 1912 at the age of sixteen and graduated in 1916. He spent time during WWI doing mine work in the North Sea, after which he qualified as a naval aviator. In 1923 he led the Navy team that competed in the Schneider Trophy Race at Cowes, Isle of Wight. Two of his teammates—Lt. David Rittenhouse and Lt. Rutledge Irvine—placed first and second in the race. Wead continued as a naval aviator, setting naval aircraft records for speed, endurance, and distance and eventually working for the Navy’s Bureau of Aeronautics.

 

Wead’s Hollywood Career

In 1927, an unexpected turn of events changed Wead’s life forever. After he took a fall in his house in Coronado, California, he was seriously injured, having fractured the fifth cervical vertebra in his neck and doing irreparable damage to his spinal cord. After surgery and more than two painful years of recuperation, he progressed to being able to sit up, and, with the aid of steel braces, to walk. Wead decided that he needed another activity to recuperate fully, so he tried his hand at writing. In time he collaborated on a script for The Flying Fleet (1929), the first Hollywood film about contemporary military flying, with Byron Morgan, a former naval aviator who had become a screenwriter for MGM (Metro Goldwyn Mayer). The Flying Fleet was also the first in a long list of films credited to Wead that were about the U.S. Navy or naval aviation. Wead also wrote screenplays about civil aviation, including one for Air Mail (1932), a film directed by John Ford, and Ceiling Zero (1936), a film directed by Howard Hawks that was based on a play Wead had written that appeared off-Broadway in 1935. He again worked with Ford on They Were Expendable (1945), based on the true story of Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron 3, commanded by Medal of Honor winner John D. Bulkeley during the evacuation of the Philippines early in WWII. This film is considered one of the best war films ever made..

 

Wead’s World War II Service

After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Wead had gotten permission to reenter the Navy through the good graces of an old friend, Admiral John Towers. His first assignment was as an assistant to Captain Ralph Davison, chief of the Plans Division of the Bureau of Aeronautics. Later, Wead trained air combat intelligence officers at Quonset Point, Rhode Island. From October 1943 to June 1944, he was a planning officer on the staff of the Commander Air Pacific in Hawaii. In this capacity, he helped develop plans for Makin, Tarawa, Eniwetok, and Kwajelein. All these operations led up to the battle for the Marianas Islands.

Wead was also credited with developing the idea of escort carriers (the so-called “Jeep Carriers”), which were employed to provide logistical support for the main carrier forces. During the Marianas air assaults, he was invited onboard the U.S.S. Yorktown by Admiral J. J. Clark as an observer. He was involved in actual combat during the Marianas battle when Japanese aircraft attacked the ship. Despite his disabilities, Wead showed courage and was an inspiration to the crew. After the Marianas, Wead decided to retire from the Navy and return to screenwriting. For his service during WWII, Wead was awarded the Legion of Merit. He died on November 15, 1947 at the age of 52

The Wings of Eagles (1957)

The idea for The Wings of Eagles came about as a way of honoring Wead, but John Ford, the film’s intended director was somewhat reluctant to undertake the project. He and Wead had been close friends. According to Ford’s biographer, Joseph McBride, Ford is reported to have said “I didn’t want to do the picture, because Spig was a great pal of mine. But I didn’t want anyone else to do it.”

That Ford would become involved in a film honoring Wead and the U.S. Navy should come as no surprise. Ford himself became a naval officer quite late in his life. In 1934 he had enlisted in the U.S. Navy Reserve and was commissioned as a Lt. Commander. In 1939 Ford began to organize the Naval Volunteer Photographic Unit, which eventually became known as the Naval Photographic Organization, to document naval combat activities. In September 1941 Ford was appointed chief of the Field Photographic Branch, which was part of the Office of Strategic Services, headed by William J. Donovan. In that capacity Ford was at the Battle of Midway, which he filmed and whose footage he turned into an Academy Award-winning documentary of the same name in 1942.

Two unsuccessful attempts were made to produce a film about Wead. Finally, Kenneth MacKenna, a story director at MGM, and John Dale Price, Wead’s old friend, now a retired admiral, who eventually became technical advisor for the film, collaborated on a script. After nearly eight months of work, MacKenna submitted the script to the Pentagon for approval, and the Navy’s Office of Information agreed to cooperate, despite some opposition on the grounds that the script contained historical errors.

While the film, which starred John Wayne as Wead, and Maureen O’Hara as his wife “Min,” portrays naval aviation history in a favorable light, it cannot be considered entirely historically accurate, confirming the Navy’s reservations. In addition to historical inaccuracies, some of the Navy’s objections were based on the portrayal of alcohol abuse in the film. Evidently, the drinking scenes that had to do with Maureen O’Hara’s character had to be cut because Wead’s children protested. Nevertheless, the film provides more than subtle hints that alcohol played a significant part in Wead’s life and in the life of his wife, and that it may have been responsible for their inability to reconcile the demands of military life with the demands of family.

 

co-stars of The Wings of Eagles

The co-stars of "The Wings of Eagles," John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara are pictured. The film, a tribute to the naval aviation and Hollywood screenwriting career of Frank “Spig” Wead, was directed by John Ford in 1957.

Evidently it was not practical for Ford to portray Wead’s contributions as a screenwriter to positive depictions of naval aviation in prewar films like Dive Bomber (released in August 1941 before the attack on Pearl Harbor). Instead, he relied heavily on a part-fiction, part-fact portrayal of Wead’s military contributions during the interwar years and in WWII. In fact, Wead’s achievements in WWII are much more factually presented in the film than those that take place during the interwar years. Ford’s message is strong: Wead was not only a staunch defender of naval aviation, but a doer, in spite of his debilitating handicap. Moreover, it is important to realize that The Wings of Eagles is significant also for what it says about American values as seen through the lives and ordeals of military men. The Wings of Eagles, like some of Ford’s other films, displays familiar Fordian themes: the sense of community among American naval men: in this case, naval aviators; naval service as a reflection of national identity; an intermingling of historical fact with historical fancy.

 

Dive Bomber

Errol Flynn (center), the star of "Dive Bomber," a 1941 film written by Frank W. “Spig Wead, poses in a pressure suit with members of the cast and film crew.

Nevertheless, the film may be interpreted on other levels. Dan Ford, Ford’s grandson, contends that the film is a veiled autobiography of his grandfather. Both Wead and Ford were restless and disposed to lives of action. Because they were both disabled, they were attracted to vicarious adventures. Both were involved in moviemaking as a substitute for military careers. Both served in WWII but as observers rather than as combatants. Both neglected their families to focus exclusively on their careers. Both preferred masculine companionship to that of women.

As a result, The Wings of Eagles may be seen as two films. One contains the mythologizing biography of “Spig” Wead and extols naval aviation and American values of patriotism, courage and perseverance. The other, a more personal one, critiques the institution—the U.S. Navy— that would create an atmosphere which is potentially dangerous to family life.

Dom Pisano is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

 

The Rutan Voyager

Twenty-five years ago, the staff of the National Air and Space Museum held its collective breath for nine days as a seemingly fragile, flying fuel tank made its way across oceans and continents in an attempt to become the first aircraft to fly around the world non-stop and unrefueled. The odd-looking bird had departed Edwards Air Force Base, California, on the morning of December 14, 1986, and the rest of the world was following as continuous sightings and updates flowed to the media, the Museum, and to the flight’s headquarters in Mojave, California. Everyone wondered if you really could fly around the world on one tank of gas?

 

Voyager

"Voyager" departing the coast of California on Dec. 14, 1986, soon to leave behind Burt Rutan in the Duchess chase plane.

As it turned out, you needed 17 tanks of fuel all in one vehicle from start to finish.  Voyager, the ultimate homebuilt, was the brainchild of unconventional designer Burt Rutan and two record-setting pilots, his brother Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager.  Six years from initial conception on a napkin, as the story goes, to completion of the flight two days before Christmas in 1986, this trio successfully proved that lots of hard work and a little bit of luck could still make dreams come true.  Of course they didn’t do it alone.  A dedicated team of volunteers supported every aspect of the endeavor, but it was Dick Rutan and Yeager who beat the bushes for donations from the general public and corporate sponsors (they never did get a big-time sponsor) and built and tested the aircraft themselves. In the end, their dramatic quest created a public following that rivaled the flight-tracking of Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

All of a sudden Museum curators were being asked who else had flown around the world, how and when were the flights accomplished, and was this really the last aviation milestone?  We knew the answers to the first two questions: in 1924, Army Air Corps crews flew two Douglas World Cruisers biplanes on the first round the world flight, a six-month marathon around oceans and through the arctic snow and tropical jungles — one of the airplanes, the Chicago, is in the Museum’s Barron Hilton Pioneers of Flight Gallery.  Then in 1957, three USAF B-52B bomber crews made the first non-stop flights around the world aided by aerial refueling.  No one seriously considered it possible to accomplish the flight without some sort of refueling, until Burt Rutan did.

The sheer audacity of assuming it could be done had to wait for dramatic changes in aircraft construction material and an out-of-the-box thinker. Weight, the ever-present penalty for aircraft, was the ultimate problem to be conquered.  How could you squeeze in enough fuel to fly nearly 25,000 miles and yet keep the aircraft light enough to even take off? Carbon fiber was the answer, making the aircraft half the weight of conventional aluminum construction, but as strong as steel.  Burt Rutan’s design certainly turned heads with its forward canard and graceful wings connecting two out-rigger booms, all of which contained 7011.5 pounds of fuel.  Every effort was made to keep the aircraft light, and thankfully Yeager weighed only 95 pounds. The two pilots were crammed into a phone booth-sized barebones cockpit and they would be there for nine days.  That alone earns gasps when people first see the aircraft but add the fact that, unbeknownst to the public, the pilots had not been getting along very well and you have a truly incredible feat.

 

Dick and Jeanna

Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager in Voyager’s cramped cockpit

The Rutans and Yeager made it clear they expected success and they wanted to see the aircraft hanging at the Smithsonian.  The Museum adopted a wait and see attitude; given the long delays in the program and the dangers and pitfalls of the proposed flight, would this ever really happen?

Ultimately, determination and perseverance prevailed as Voyager and its crew endured the loss of its winglets on and just after  takeoff, a typhoon, thunderstorms that flipped the craft to a 90-degree bank, fuel starvation in one engine, and severe physiological and psychological stress.

The Museum followed the nine-day trip in the Air Transportation gallery but there were still questions — was it really one of the last great records of aviation?  By the time Rutan and Yeager landed back at Edwards AFB at 8:05am PST on December 23, 1986, it was clear that history had been made.  Not only were they the first to fly non-stop non-refueled around the world, they also set eight absolute or world class records.  Winning aviation’s prestigious Collier Trophy settled the discussion. While the press lavished praise couched in holiday cheer, the Museum began planning for a new addition to its collection.

In the summer of 1987, Voyager was dismantled for its trip by trailer from California to the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration and Storage Facility in Suitland, Maryland.  While Voyager received accolades at the Experimental Aircraft Association Convention in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, structural engineer and curator Howard Wolko calculated how to get this huge aircraft into the building.  After a midnight wide-load ride from the Garber Facility to the west terrace of the Museum in Washington, DC, our team of specialists moved the center section onto dollies.

Then the carefully laid plans came to a halt. Just inside the west doors a replica aircraft carrier deck which held our Grumman Hellcat protruded a little too far, and it was clear that Voyager would not pass.  In the wee hours of the morning, a solution was found: elevate and tilt the center section with a hydraulic lift, inching it over and past the offending carrier deck.  After barely sliding by the Air Transportation gallery, the center section was rolled into the South Lobby at dawn.  Thankfully the assembly of the wings, empennage, and engines was routine and our able but tired staff suspended Voyager using scissor lifts and winches in time for our 10:00 a.m. opening.  The near catastrophic loss of the winglets on takeoff proved fortunate for us by reducing the wingspan by two feet and allowing the aircraft to fit snugly into the South Lobby. On the first anniversary of the flight, Burt and Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager reached their final goal of seeing Voyager suspended in the south lobby of the National Air and Space Museum.

Dorothy Cochrane is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum

WINGS: From the Wright Brothers to the Present

Airplane designers will tell you that the wing is the heart of an airplane. For conventional airplanes, it provides most of the lift generated by the airplane; the fuselage and tail contribute only a few percent of the overall lift of the airplane.

 

1900 Wright Glider

A reproduction of the 1900 Wright glider on display in The Wright Brothers & The Invention of the Aerial Age gallery at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC.

The Wright brothers recognized this from the very start of their work on flying machines.  The wings of their first gliders in 1900 and 1901 were designed on the basis of the aeronautical data reported by the German aeronautical pioneer, Otto Lilienthal. When, however, they measured the aerodynamic lift on their gliders, they found that the measured lift was only one-third of their calculated lift based on Lilienthal’s data. (We know today that the problem was not with Lilienthal’s data, but rather with the Wright’s misinterpretation of his data, based on lack of information about the wing  geometry of Lilienthal’s test model.) Nevertheless, the Wright’s proceeded to carry out their own tests, using a rudimentary wind tunnel of their own design. They learned from their wind tunnel tests the important effect of wing aspect ratio on the lift and drag. (For their rectangular wings, the aspect ratio is equal to the wing span divided by the chord. A large aspect ratio wing is like a slat from a Venetian blind; a low aspect ratio wing is short and stubby.) Their 1900 and 1901 gliders had low aspect ratio wings, aspect ratios of 3.4 and 3.3 respectively. (Lilienthal’s model aspect ratio was 6.48, and is the main reason why the measured  lift of the 1900 and 1901 gliders did not agree with the Wrights’ calculations based on the Lilienthal’s data.)From their wind tunnel data, the Wrights found that a high aspect wing produced more lift and less drag than a low aspect ratio wing. The aspect ratio for their next glider in 1902 was 6.7, and this glider flew beautifully.  The Wright Flyer had an aspect ratio of 6.4. We note that many conventional airplanes today have very similar aspect ratios.

 

Otto Lilienthal

Otto Lilienthal in flight (1894 - 1896)

The wings of the Wright’s flying machines had another important feature. The wing tips could be warped in opposite directions, setting up an unbalanced lift force on the two wings, and hence providing a control mechanism to roll the airplane. The Wrights pioneered the concept of lateral (roll) control – one of their most important technical contributions to the airplane. After a few years, ailerons were employed for roll control in lieu of wing warping, but the Wrights’ contribution was seminal.

The cross-section of a wing taken in the flight direction is called an airfoil. The shape of an airfoil is an important design feature of a wing. For example, it affects the lift and drag of the wing, and has a major effect on the stalling angle of attack (the angle of attack of the wing beyond which the lift dramatically drops off and the drag suddenly increases).The airfoils used by the Wrights were very thin because their wind tunnel test indicated that very thin shapes resulted in lower drag than thick airfoils. Most airplanes through World War I followed suit and used thin airfoils. The early wind tunnel results were misleading, however, because the wind tunnel models were small and the airflow speeds of the air in the wind tunnels were low.  We know today that the much larger size and airspeeds associated with full scale flight resulted in the opposite effect. Thin airfoils experienced “thin airfoil stall” at angles of attack much lower than normal stalling angles of attack. This was due to the separation of the flow over the top surface of the thin airfoil, hence creating much higher drag and a loss of lift. In contrast, under the same operating conditions, thicker airfoils did not encounter flow separation until much higher angles of attack, hence producing more lift and less drag at higher angles of attack. This was discovered by German engineers, and thick airfoils were employed on the Fokker Triplane and the Fokker D-7 toward the end of World War I. These airplanes were able to climb faster and maneuver more sharply than airplanes using thin airfoils, and resulted in the Fokker D-7 being one of the most effective fighters of the War.

airfoil

Airfoil is the name for the special shape of airplane wings. A wing’s airfoil shape—like a teardrop on its side—is always designed to create lift. An airplane wing is designed so air flows faster over the wing than it does beneath the wing.

In the 1920s airplane designers moved towards the use of thick airfoils. By the 1930s, efficient wing designs exhibited large aspect ratios and thick airfoils. The famous Douglas DC-3 is an excellent example, with its aesthetically beautiful high wing  aspect ratio of 9.14 and streamlined 15 percent thick airfoil. Thick airfoils had structural as well as aerodynamic advantages. A thicker wing allowed storage space for fuel tanks and retractable landing gear. A thicker wing also allowed a larger and stronger structural spar along the inside of the wing, which in turn allowed the wing to be cantilevered from the fuselage without any external support wires and struts. This helped to encourage the use of the modern single wing (monoplane) instead of the older two-wing (biplane) configuration.

With the advent of jet airplanes in the 1950s pushing speeds close to and beyond the speed of sound, airfoil and wing shapes made another dramatic change. Thinner airfoils allowed subsonic airplanes to fly closer to the speed of sound before encountering adverse shock waves over the wing, shock waves which greatly increased the drag and reduced the lift. For supersonic airplanes, the driving design feature was to reduce the strength of shock waves on the wings, and hence to reduce the supersonic wave drag.  The thinner the airfoils, the weaker the shocks, and the lower the wave drag. The Lockheed F-104, the first airplane to be designed for sustained speeds at Mach 2, is a perfect example. The airfoil shape on the F-104 is very thin, about 3.5 percent thick, and the leading edge is razor thin, all to reduce the strength of the shock waves from the leading edge of the wing. At the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC, you can get within a few feet of the F-104 wing, and see the dramatically thin airfoil. It is almost like making a full circle in airfoil thickness,  returning to that of the Wright brothers, but for completely different flight conditions. Also, many  high speed subsonic and supersonic airplanes have swept wings rather than straight wings, also to reduce the strength of shock waves and to obtain a lower wave drag.

See if you can find the best lift-to-drag ratio for the F-104 airfoil, and learn more about how wings work, in this fun online activity.

F-104

Lockheed F-104A Starfighter on display at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) flew this F-104A for 19 years as a flying test bed and a chase plane.

Wing and airfoil shapes are still evolving today, driven by new and challenging flight conditions. The drive for more and more fuel economy in flight is driving new and better wing configurations and airfoil shapes to obtain higher lift-to-drag ratios. Also, future hypersonic flight vehicles flying at Mach 5 and higher will require innovative new wing and airfoil shapes. So the evolution marches on.

John Anderson is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

 

December 7, 1941 and the First Around-the-World Commercial Flight

clipper

Pan Am Boeing 314

Stranded. Six days from its home port of San Francisco, a luxurious Boeing 314 flying boat, the Pacific Clipper, was preparing to alight in Auckland, New Zealand, as part of the airline’s transpacific service when the crew of ten learned of the Japanese attack on the U.S. fleet at Pearl Harbor on the morning of December 7, 1941. All across the Pacific, Pan Am facilities came under assault: Wake Island, where the Martin M-130 Philippine Clipper returned just in time to pick up the Pan Am staff and escape although riddled with bullet holes; Manila, which had come under direct air attack; Hong Kong, where a Sikorsky S-42B was destroyed at its dock; and, of course, Pearl Harbor. Where to go?

 

Sikorsky

The revolutionary new 32-seat Sikorsky S-42 flying boat entered service in 1934.

Pan Am Captain Robert Ford was faced with a dilemma. After a week in the U.S. Embassy Ford finally received word from Pan Am headquarters that they were to return to the U.S. by flying westward. They were on their own for gasoline and supplies and had to fly over land and water with which none of the crew was familiar. With orders in hand, Captain Ford took off on December 16th, unsure of his fate, backtracked to Noumea, New Caledonia, to pick up the Pan Am staff left there and headed west for Australia. Hours later, they put down in Gladstone, north of Brisbane on the Coral Sea. The next day, Captain Ford and the Pacific Clipper headed northwest to Darwin, flying over the Queensland desert and watching it gradually transform into tropical rainforest near their destination of Darwin. The next goal was Surabaya, in the Dutch East Indies (present day Indonesia). Keeping their fingers crossed that the Japanese expansion had not reached this far, the crew of the massive flying boat flew 2,253 kilometers (1,400 miles) over open ocean and reached the city but not before they were intercepted by suspicious British fighter aircraft and escorted in to safety after taxiing through mined waters.

After refueling with automobile grade gasoline, since no 100 octane fuel was available, the Pacific Clipper carefully took off and headed for Trincomalee, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) without any charts, only the coordinates of their destination. With remarkable precision, navigator Roderick Brown found the island and the port city where they alighted safely, although only after avoiding a patrolling Japanese submarine. Refueling once again, the Boeing 314 left Trincomalee on Christmas Eve only to turn back after losing an engine. Repairs took all day on Christmas before they retook to the air on Boxing Day bound for Karachi, India (now Pakistan). After an uneventful flight, Captain Ford continued safely on to Bahrain and then across the vast desert expanse of the Arabian peninsula to Khartoum, Sudan, where they alighted on the Nile. Not wishing to risk any further desert flying, the crew of the Pacific Clipper pressed on to Leopoldville in the Belgian Congo (now Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of the Congo) and was able to put the huge flying boat down on the Congo River when they reached their destination.

 

Pacific Clipper

"Pacific Clipper" in flight (1944). During the war the "Pacific Clipper" flew for the U.S. Navy with a Pan Am crew.

Fighting the oppressive heat and the strong current of the river, the flying boat once again clawed into the sky becoming airborne before reaching a set of waterfalls. Safely clear of the obstacles, the Pacific Clipper droned 5,766 kilometers (3,583 miles) westward to Natal, Brazil, then up the coast to Port of Spain, Trinidad, and finally on January 6, 1942, to the Marine terminal at La Guardia, Long Island, New York. Total flight time was 209 hours which covered 50,694 kilometers (31,500 miles). It was the first around the world flight by a commercial airliner — the hard way.

After this historic flight, the Pacific Clipper was assigned to the U.S. Navy for the rest of World War II. When the War ended, the aircraft was sold to Universal Airlines who salvaged it after it was damaged in a storm.

Have you ever had a harrowing flight experience? Tell us about it.

Robert van der Linden is Chair of the Aeronautics Division at the National Air and Space Museum.

The Museum’s Pearl Harbor Survivor

In American military history there are few dates more familiar than “December 7th, 1941… a date which will live in infamy…”

The Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor on that serene Sunday morning marked America’s official entry into a global war that had been raging in Europe and throughout Asia for many years. Yet after the raid had ended, the wounded treated, and the dead counted, there remained pockets of hope that all was not lost that day.

 

Ford Island Runway

A variety of aircraft were stationed at Ford Island in 1941.

On Ford Island, just across from battleship row, ten Sikorsky JRS-1 Flying Boats (Amphibians) had escaped any serious damage from the multi-wave attack. Early the following morning, around 3:00 am Pearl Harbor time on December 8, Navy JRS-1 crews took to the air in search of the Japanese fleet. The Sikorsky JRS-1, a utility and transport aircraft, was not armed…normally. But that morning, the crew along with several rifle-armed passengers were assigned to not only conduct search and rescue missions, but also search and destroy any Japanese ships that they encountered.

 

JRS-1

The JRS-1 "flew" briefly as it was removed from the transport truck and touched down in the hangar last spring. Our JRS-1 is the only Pearl Harbor-related aircraft in our collection, and the only JRS-1 remaining in the world.

Last June, one of those veteran JRS-1 crewmen visited us at the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar and was reunited with the very plane that he had flown as a radioman in those days following the attack. Lt. Cmdr. Harvey Waldron, USN (ret.), recounted the events during a three-hour oral history interview accomplished in the shadow of his old Sikorsky friend.

As he viewed the fuselage of the craft for the first time in nearly six decades, he could not contain the tears, the smiles, and then the joy of being reunited with an object that had been his defender and his home away from home all those many years ago.

 

Lt. Cmdr. Harvey Waldron, USN (ret.)

Lt. Cmdr. Harvey Waldron, USN (ret.) got a chance to view his old radio station inside the JRS-1 at the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar.

Waldron and other Pearl Harbor veterans will return to Hawaii this week to participate in what may be the final reunion of Pearl survivors. Each will visit their exact duty location on that Sunday. Waldron was at Hangar 37 during a shift change when the Japanese first wave struck.

On this day, we remember those who perished that Sunday morning, now 70 years ago. We also remember the 16 million more who served and fought during the next four years with bravery, courage, and heroism to help put an end to tyranny around the globe. Veterans like Lt. Cmdr. Harvey Waldron are rare indeed.

To all those veterans of World War II and their families, thank you for your dedicated service!

Do you have any Pearl Harbor stories? Feel free to share them with us.

Dik Daso is the curator of modern military aircraft in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

 

Above Water

When the floods in Thailand appeared in the news recently, my friends and colleagues recommended that I stay away.  But how could I?  It was only a 4.5 hour flight from China (where I would be attending the Lishui International Photography Festival November 5 – 9) and photographing the Bangkok (BKK) air traffic control tower at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport was a high priority on my “to do” list.  Actually, the highest.  It is the tallest freestanding air traffic control tower in the world at 132.2 meters (434 feet) and a major tower to include in my upcoming book and Smithsonian exhibition The Art of the Airport Tower.

 

BKK

BKK Air Traffic Control Tower at Suvarnabhumi International Airport, Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011.

Getting to the various locations to photograph airport towers is only part of the job. First I must obtain official access to photograph each tower.  For towers in the United States, I have a process in place with the FAA for approval.  International access is another story. However, so far, so good with towers now completed in Finland, Sweden, Norway, Spain, Switzerland, and Italy.

But after several weeks of unanswered e-mails  to different airport authorities at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport, I became worried and turned to a personal contact in Bangkok, my childhood pen pal.  As pen pals, Choedkrid  “Jon” and I had exchanged letters throughout high school, and we met once during his visit to the United States in 1989.  We had reconnected earlier this year on Facebook and I found that he works for Thai Airways, quite coincidentally.

So, “Jon” made the calls for me and forwarded my requests to the proper authorities, which resulted in an official letter of permission – my golden ticket.  The BKK tower is a gigantic beauty, the weather was great for shooting, and I had a perfect photography session.

Photographing airport towers all over the world is an ambitious undertaking. Working in partnership with the Museum’s Development Office, we have created sponsorship opportunities that would open up the possibility of traveling to and highlighting as many of these historic landmarks as possible.

 

 

BKK

BKK Air Traffic Control Tower reflections on AeroThai building at Suvarnabhumi International Airport. Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011.

And about those floods —  Jon provided me with a close-up view from a military-style truck that drove through the flooded streets.  My feet stayed dry as I photographed the flood damage below.  I watched people navigate their way in trucks and boats on the newly formed waterways. Some on foot were partly submerged.  The citizens of Bangkok helped each other and readily adapted to new transportation and relocation adjustments in order to continue with their daily business routines.  I brought back from this recent trip not only new photographs for the Art of the Airport Tower, but a reconnection to an old friend and the utmost respect for a culture that stood tall in the face of a national crisis.

 

Floods

Downtown flood water in Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011

 

Bangkok

Downtown flood water in Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011 Credit: Carolyn Russo

Carolyn Russo is a museum specialist/photographer in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.