Meet the Curtiss-Wright Aeronautical Engineering Cadettes

Just when I think I might know something about women in aviation, or just when we think we’ve heard all the stories about “the greatest generation,” I find out about another group who contributed to the World War II effort.  They were not Rosie the Riveters assembling aircraft on production lines nor were they the pilots known as the WASP.  By now, most people have heard of the Women Airforce Service Pilots, 1,074 civilian women who, from 1943 to 1944, flew more than 60 million miles ferrying military aircraft, towing targets, and performing other administrative flying duties for the US Army Air Forces.  Thirty-eight women lost their lives in the course of their duties to their country, but deceased or living, they received no military benefits. After being deactivated in December 1944, so that returning male pilots could resume stateside military flight duties, their remarkable story was lost for many years, in fact until 1977 when Congress finally conferred retroactive military status to the WASP. In the 1990s, various WWII 50th anniversary events reintroduced them and finally, in March 2010, the WASP received their ultimate honor with the awarding of Congressional Gold Medal for their service and “revolutionary reform in the Armed Forces” during World War II. Each living WASP or family of a WASP received a bronze medal and National Air and Space Museum became the repository for the single Gold Medal, now displayed at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. Many books and documentaries now tell the powerful WASP story.

WASP

Members of the WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) are pictured at Lockbourne Army Air Field in World War II. From left to right are Frances Green, Margaret (Peg) Kirchner, Ann Waldner and Blanche Osborn. The WASP were civilian women pilots who flew in non-combat situations for the U.S. Army Air Forces during the war. The program came to an abrupt end in 1944 because of gender politics.

Recently I learned about another group of unheralded women from the World War II era. Last fall Jean-Vi Lenthe e-mailed me about a women’s aeronautical engineering training and employment program sponsored by the Curtiss-Wright Corporation, and although I must have read about it in Deborah Douglas’ American Women in Flight Since 1940, I could not recall the details. Lenthe promptly sent me a copy of her book that tells the story of the intrepid women, including her own mother, known as the Curtiss-Wright Cadettes. Having never spoken in depth about it with her mother before her death, Lenthe became curious and began contacting the remnants of the Curtiss-Wright Corporation, visiting the old Curtiss-Wright plants and repositories of Curtiss-Wright archives (including the National Air and Space Museum unbeknownst to me), and interviewing living Curtiss-Wright Cadettes. How did her mother become involved and what work did she and the rest of co-eds train for and perform? The motivated and tenacious Lenthe was just the person to unravel this puzzle and the result is Flying Into Yesterday My Search for the Curtiss-Wright Aeronautical Engineering Cadettes.

Flying Into Yesterday

Flying Into Yesterday, by Jean-Vi Lenthe

Curtiss-Wright Corporation was a major aircraft manufacturer in World War II producing, among other aircraft, the P-40 Warhawk for the U.S. Army Air Forces and the SB2C Helldiver for the U.S. Navy. The Helldiver saga was a tortuous one with many complex design and production issues and in 1942, Curtiss-Wright was in danger of defaulting on its contract to provide the Navy with a new dive bomber. At the same time, male engineers were being drafted and the company was having trouble keeping up the necessary engineering work to fix the Helldiver and get it into sustained production. So Curtiss-Wright took the highly unusual step of authorizing women to fill in. Between February 1943 and March 1945, 918 female college students, identified as mathematically advanced, took courses in aerodynamics, engineering, and design at seven universities; 766 Cadettes graduated from the government-sponsored program and began work in five Curtiss-Wright plants.

Lenthe focused on her mother, Ricki Cruse Lenthe, who studied at Purdue University and completed the 10-month program condensed down from a two and one half year engineering curriculum that also included technical drawing, airframe structures, and subjects tailored to the work at the plant to which she would be assigned. Her mother reported to the Handbooks Group of the Service Engineering department at the Columbus, Ohio plant where she helped to prepare the Pilot Handbook for the Helldiver. Many Cadettes worked in drafting departments where they incorporated engineering orders into the original working drawings of the Helldiver, accurately modifying the drawings with major or minor changes (which eventually numbered nearly 900) for production use. It was another Cadette from that plant who years later gave Lenthe the push to research the Cadettes and document their work: Betty Masket, now living in Chevy Chase, Maryland. Masket performed inspections on the production line and once shut it down when she found a clearance issue with the hydraulic line to the dive brakes on the wings. She was concerned the line could be cut and cause an uncontrollable descent of the aircraft.

Lenthe called me because she was coming to Washington, DC to see Masket and wanted to bring her to the Udvar-Hazy Center to see our Helldiver undergoing restoration in the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Center. I am sure she was not really surprised when I told her I knew little of the Curtiss-Wright Cadettes, but no doubt she was yet again disappointed. SuperStorm Sandy delayed her trip east from New Mexico but we finally met on January 21.

Cochrane, Kinney, and Masket

Curators Dorothy Cochrane and Jeremy Kinney with Betty Masket by the Helldiver in the Udvar-Hazy Center.

Visits like this are rewarding aspects of working at the Museum because they have so many layers. Lenthe affirmed her research efforts and the Cadettes identity by linking them to their daily work and accomplishments, in this case Masket with the Helldiver, and Lenthe also made the personal connection to her mother’s work. Masket inspected yet another Helldiver and talked shop with curator Jeremy Kinney and our museum specialists who work on the restoration. Our museum specialists are always delighted to speak with someone with personal knowledge of an aircraft, whether a pilot, mechanic, or female engineer, and they peppered both women with questions. We could not confirm that Masket’s suggested change for the hydraulic line was made, but she thoroughly enjoyed seeing a Helldiver in pieces again and will be back to follow the work. The restorers, Jeremy, and I found out about the Curtiss-Wright Cadettes and we now have another resource for hands-on Helldiver details. I signed up the women for the Museum’s Women in Aviation and Space Family Day on Saturday, March 23. Later in the week, Lenthe and I discussed her growing Cadettes archival and artifact collections and her plans for an exhibit. Our aircraft provided the point of focus for the visit but the true value is in the people, in this case Lenthe, Masket, and the rest of intriguing Curtiss-Wright Aeronautical Engineering Cadettes.

Like the WASP and assembly line workers, the Cadettes were abruptly sent home at the end of World War II. Although they contributed to the production of more than 5,000 Helldivers at the Columbus plant, and more aircraft at other plants, and to propeller and engine programs as well, they did not receive promised help from Curtiss-Wright to finish their engineering degrees after the war. Worse yet, the company lost or threw out records of the program. A few Cadettes went on to become career engineers, some, like Lenthe’s mother, became teachers, and many became homemakers. But whatever they did, they all appreciated their Cadettes experience and the difference it made in their lives.

The Chance-Vought Corporation also established a scholarship program with the Daniel Guggenheim School for Aeronautics at New York University that led to the placement of a small number of female engineers in the Chance-Vought Engineering Department. On the whole though, only a handful of women became career engineers for aviation companies; similarly very few women became pilots or stayed in the industry in other capacities. Most everyone regarded women working for the war effort as just that and, when the war ceased, so did their employment. It would be several decades before women permanently entered the workplace in force.

Women in Aviation and Space Family Day at the Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA.

Women in Aviation and Space Family Day at the Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA.

Jean-Vi Lenthe, Betty Masket, and other Curtiss-Wright Cadettes will host a table at the Women in Aviation and Space Family Day at the Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA on March 23, 2013, 10:00am-3:00pm

Jean-Vi Lenthe will have a book signing from 12:00 – 2:00 pm.

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

 

 

 

 

Life and Liquor at “Leftover” Field

The Boeing B-29 Superfortress Enola Gay is one of the National Air and Space Museum’s most heralded artifacts, but a new addition to the National Air and Space Museum Archives Division’s collections provides a glimpse into the lives of the crew before they became worldwide names.  In May, the Archives accepted an accession of three State of Utah individual liquor permits for 1944 to 1945 (Acc. No. 2012-0027).  Two of these permits were issued to future members of the crew of the Enola Gay—Colonel Paul Tibbets, commanding officer of the 509th Composite Group, and Major Thomas Ferebee, the bombardier on the flight to Hiroshima.

Ferebee's Ration Card

Front view of Major Thomas Ferebee’s Utah liquor ration card. NASM 9A08342

 

Before shipping out to Tinian, the island in the Marianas from which the Enola Gay launched its flight to Japan, Tibbets and the 509th Composite Group were stationed at Wendover Army Air Field on the western edge of Utah.  The population of the town of Wendover was just over 100 people.  Surrounded by miles of salt flats, there so little to do in Wendover, Bob Hope reportedly called it “Leftover” Field.  This isolation was ideal for Tibbets, since he was especially concerned with operational security for his top secret B-29 program.  Tibbets hoped to keep his men out of the bars, where they could potentially talk about their lives and jobs.

Ferebee's Ration Card

Reverse view of Major Thomas Ferebee’s Utah liquor ration card. NASM 9A08342-A

 

Just because they were isolated in Utah, famous for its strict liquor laws even before wartime rationing, didn’t mean that alcohol was unavailable to the men of the 509th.  During their stay at Wendover, Tibbets and Ferebee were issued new 1944 to 1945 individual liquor permits.  According to the Salt Lake Telegram, the new 1944 to 1945 liquor permits were supposed to be a new “foolproof” design to curb rampant counterfeiting.  Before, purchasing liquor in Utah required a liquor permit and a ration card, which were both easily forged.  The new design was enclosed in cellophane and included a year’s supply of liquor.  In order to receive a permit, an applicant needed to produce a ration book and at least three other forms of identification, including a service identification card if a member of the military.

Tibbets’ Utah Liquor Ration Card

Reverse view of Colonel Paul Tibbets’ Utah liquor ration card. NASM 9A08343-A

 

From rations notices posted in the Telegram, we can roughly determine how much liquor was purchased by the two crew members between July 1944 and July 1945.  The first set of numbers 1 through 12 could be used to purchase one-fifth or a pint, if the store was out of fifths, of liquor per month.  The set of numbers 13 through 18 represented bonus rations, allotted throughout the year.  The letters along the bottom represented two fifths or one-half gallon of wine in monthly installments, plus bonus rations.  Though he was constantly shuttling between Utah; Los Alamos, New Mexico; Washington, DC; and, later, Tinian from July 1944 through July 1945, Tibbets usually used his rations, often taking advantage of the bonus rations.  Ferebee was not transferred to Wendover until September 1944 and may not have obtained his card immediately, since he did not begin using the card to buy liquor until February 1945.  While these liquor permits don’t provide new, groundbreaking insight into the crew of the Enola Gay, they do provide a quick look at a small aspect of their life in Utah.

Elizabeth C. Borja is a reference services archivist in the National Air and Space Museum’s Archives Division.

This post was originally published on the Smithsonian Collections Blog in October 2012.

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.

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

 

Tuskegee Bird Flies North

During the past two years, it has been my privilege to work closely with the curatorial staff of the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) to locate an aircraft with a lineage tied directly to the Tuskegee Airmen. We were fortunate enough to accomplish the mission that will culminate in the acquisition of a PT-13 Stearman that flew at Moton Field, Alabama, during WW II—the home of the Tuskegee Airmen.

Most remarkable and amazing has been my opportunity to get to know the young couple that has restored the aircraft to flying condition and flown it to dozens of airshows around the country telling the Tuskegee Airmen’s story.

 

PT-13

Pilot Matt "Happy" Quy pilots this PT-13 Stearman during a recent airshow that included the Blue Angels.

This coming Sunday, 31 July, the pilot-owner Captain Matt “Happy” Quy (USAF) and the NMAAHC team will meet up at historic Moton Field near present day Tuskegee University to begin the final leg of a journey into American history. Matt has asked me to fly with him on this historic last leg of a journey that began for this Stearman way back in the early 1940s. As a retired U.S. Air Force pilot myself, I could not turn down such an adventure. While somewhat limited in “tweeting” skill, I will be sending updates and flight experiences into the tweet-o-sphere throughout the flight that is scheduled to arrive in the greater DC area sometime next Tuesday.

Check out #PT13 to keep pace with Matt and me as we slip some surly bonds of Earth in the skies above the eastern US this weekend.

 

PT-13 and P-51

The PT-13 Spirit of Tuskegee flying in formation with a vintage P-51 Mustang.

Dik Daso is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

The Last Sikorsky JRS-1 Makes A Move to the Udvar-Hazy Center

On December 7, 1941, a US Navy squadron consisting of ten Sikorsky JRS-1 amphibious seaplanes was on station in the Hawaiian Islands. Shortly after the Japanese attack that Sunday morning, the planes were launched in an effort to locate enemy submarines and ships near Oahu. Initially not armed, the first missions included riflemen positioned on board near open windows and doors to shoot potential adversaries in case any were discovered. Later, these ten JRS-1 craft were armed with depth charges, one under each wing that could more effectively attack Japanese submarines.

The Sikorsky JRS-1 fuselage arrives at the Udvar-Hazy Center. Smithsonian photo by Mark Avino.

On Tuesday, March 8 at 10:15am, the world’s only surviving JRS-1 (designated S-43 in the civilian world) arrived at the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar at the Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center near Dulles International Airport. After 50 years in preservation storage at the Paul E. Garber Facility in Suitland, Maryland, this World War II veteran amphibious sea plane finally emerged into the bright Virginia sunshine—and it looks fantastic.

The Sikorsky JRS-1 is backed into the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar. Smithsonian photo by Dane Penland.


Doug Erickson talks to Matt Jolley from Warbird Radio while Public Affairs Specialist, Frank McNally, looks on.

Doug Erickson, of the Museum’s Collections Division, expertly piloted the “Big Blue” truck and flatbed that carried the fifty-one foot long fuselage from Suitland, around the Washington DC beltway, then via Route 66 to the Udvar-Hazy Center. Aside from a bit of a tight squeeze on the entry ramp to 66 and bunches of “gawkers,” the transport went precisely as planned. For Doug, the significance of the object really hits home AFTER the job of safely loading, moving, and unloading is complete. “It goes from being work, to being really cool!”

Collections staff prepare to offload the Sikorsky JRS-1 inside the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar. Smithsonian photo by Dane Penland.


Museum Technician, Pat Robinson, grabs a strap to help steady the aircraft as it is lifted off of the flatbed trailer.

Museum Technician, Pat Robinson, has been assisting with the disassembly and move preparation for the JRS. Others on the team include, Anthony Wallace, Move Project Manager; Tony Carp, JRS Disassembly Lead; Douglas Erickson, JRS fuselage move driver/coordinator; and Scott Wood. Pat mentioned that while the task has been challenging, the sight of the aircraft in the open air for the first time in decades was a highlight of the day. During the process, the team has uncovered much of the original paint scheme and original colors that will one day guide the restoration of the aircraft. The vibrant green used on the vertical tail and the cherry red on the engine cowlings verify that this JRS-1 belonged to the unit commander.

As curator of the JRS-1, the opportunity to get such a significant artifact into the public view has been a major goal. It seems fitting that this historic American aviation artifact will be on public view at some point during this year of the Centennial of Naval aviation, as well as the seventieth anniversary of the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor.

In what may be the last “flight of the JRS-1” the team steadies the fuselage in preparation for rotating it 180 degrees for display. Smithsonian photo by Dane Penland.

The team poses in front of the Sikorsky JRS-1, resting comfortably in position for display inside the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar.

This aircraft is one of the most historically significant in the national collection and represents a long, proud heritage of aviation in the U.S. Navy. Moving the JRS-1 to the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar will allow the National Air and Space Museum to utilize the most modern facilities available to improve the long-term preservation of treasures like the JRS-1.

Dik Daso is curator of Modern Military Aircraft in National Air and Space Museum’s Aeronautics Division.