Learning to Fly: A Practical Manual for Beginners

by Claude Grahame-White; Harry Harper

Nowadays, when a pupil joins a well-established flying school, he finds that everything is made easy and pleasant for him. Most men enjoy very thoroughly the period of their tuition. A friendly regard springs up between the pupils and their instructors, and men who have learned to fly, and are now expert pilots, bear with them very pleasant reminiscences of their "school" days. But there were times, and it seems already in the dim and distant past, when learning to fly was a strange, haphazard, and hardly pleasant experience; though it had a sporting interest certainly, and offered such prospects of adventure as commended it to bold spirits who were prepared for hardship, and had a well-filled purse. The last requirement was very necessary. In the bad old days, amusing days though they were without doubt, no fixed charge was made to cover such breakages, or damage to an aeroplane, as a pupil might be guilty of during his period of instruction. These items of damage—broken propellers, planes, or landing gear—were all entered up very carefully on special bills, and presented from time to time to the dismayed novice; and a man who was clumsy or impetuous found learning to fly an expensive affair. There was a pupil who joined a school soon after Bleriot's crossing of the Channel by air. It was a monoplane school; and the monoplane, unless a man is careful and very patient, is not an easy machine to learn to fly. This beginner was not patient; he was indeed more than usually impetuous. His landings, in particular, were often abrupt. He broke propellers, frequently, to say nothing of wings and of alighting gear. And of all these breakages a note was made. Bills were handed to him—long and intricate bills, with each item amounting to so many hundreds of francs. Having a sense of humour, the pupil began to paper his shed with these formidable bills, allowing them to hang in festoons around the walls. What it cost him to learn to fly nobody except himself knew. He paid away certainly, in his bills for breakages, enough money to buy several aeroplanes.

This was in the early days, when aviators were few and all flying schools experimental. To-day a pupil need not concern himself, even if he does damage a machine. Before beginning his tuition he pays his fee, one definite sum which covers all contingencies that may arise. It includes any and all damage that he may do to the aircraft of his instructors; it covers also any third-party claims that may be made against him—claims that is to say from any third person who might be injured in an accident for which he was responsible. This inclusive fee varies, in schools of repute, from £75 to £100.

The modern aerodromes, or schools of flight, at which a pupil receives his tuition, have been evolved rapidly from the humblest of beginnings. The first flying grounds were, as a rule, nothing more than open tracts of land, such as offered a fairly smooth landing-place and an absence of dangerous wind-gusts. Then, as aviation developed, pilots came together at these grounds, and sheds were built to house their craft. And after this, quickly as a rule, an organisation was built up. Beginning from rough shelters, erected hastily on the brink of a stretch of open land, there grew row upon row of neatly-built sheds, with workshops near them in which aircraft could be constructed or repaired. And from this stage, not content with the provision made for them by nature, those in control of the aerodromes began to dig up trees, fill in ditches and hollows, and smooth away rough contours of the land, so as to obtain a huge, smooth expanse on which aircraft might alight and manœuvre without accident. And after this came the building up of fences and entrance gates, the erection of executive offices and restaurants, the provision of telephone exchanges and other facilities—the creation in fact of a modern aerodrome.

A pupil to-day, if he decides to learn to fly, finds he has an ample choice in the matter of a school. He may feel indeed that there is almost an embarrassment of facilities. But there are certain very definite requirements, in regard to any modern flying school; and if a novice bears these in mind, and thinks of them carefully when he is considering what school he shall join, he cannot go far wrong. First there is the question of the aerodrome on which, and above which, the pupil will undergo his instruction. This should be of ample size and of an adequately smooth surface; and it should be so situated, also, that it is free from wind eddies and gusts, such as are set up by hills, woods, or contours of the land, and are likely to inconvenience a novice when he makes his first flights. The best position for an aerodrome is in a valley, not abrupt but gently sloping. With a flying ground so placed, shielded well by nature on every hand, it may prove sufficiently calm for instruction even on days when there is a gusty wind blowing across more exposed points; and such a natural advantage is of importance for a pupil. It may mean that he is obtaining his tuition from day to day, when other pupils, learning to fly at grounds less favourably situated, have to remain compulsorily idle, waiting either for the wind to drop, or to veer to some quarter from which their aerodrome is sheltered.

It is very necessary, of course, in the operation of a flying school, that there should be competent instructors; also a sufficient number of these to prevent them from being over-taxed, or having more pupils at any one time than they can handle conveniently. And it is greatly to the advantage of a pupil if these instructors have been chosen with an intelligent care. A man may be a capable pilot, and yet not have the temperament that will suit him for imparting his knowledge to others. The instructor who, besides being a fine flyer, has the patience and sympathy of a born teacher, is by no means easy to find. A school which does find such men, and retains their services, offers attractions for a pupil which—in any preliminary visit he pays to a school before joining it—he should look for keenly. And he should make certain, too, that the school has a staff of skilled and experienced mechanics.

Another indispensable feature of a school is a sufficient number of aeroplanes, machines suited specially for the purposes of tuition, and maintained at a high efficiency. It has been no uncommon thing—though here again one is writing of the past—for the total resources of a school to comprise, say, two machines. Hence a couple of smashes would put such a school temporarily out of action, and leave the pupils with nothing to do but kick their heels, and wait until the machines had been repaired. It is certainly an advantage, from the pupil's point of view, if there are well-equipped workshops in connection with the school he joins; also if the proprietors of his school have an ample supply of engines. With facilities for repair work immediately at hand, and with a spare engine ready at once to put in a machine—while one that has been giving trouble is dealt with in the engine-shop—there should always be a full complement of craft for the work of instruction. When workshops are in operation in connection with a school an opportunity is usually provided, also, for a novice to gain some knowledge as to the mechanism and working of the aero-motor: and this of course will be useful to him.

There has been discussion as to the type of aeroplane on which one should learn to fly; but in this question, as in that of an age limit for airmen, it is extremely difficult, besides being unwise, to attempt to frame a hard-and-fast rule. The monoplane, for instance, is not an easy machine to learn to fly: it is not easy, that is to say, compared with certain types of biplane. Yet numbers of pupils have been taught on monoplanes, and this without accident. There is also a question whether, among biplanes, it is best to learn on a tractor machine—one that is to say with the engine in front of the main planes—or on a "pusher" type of craft; this last mentioned having its motor behind the planes. Aeroplanes of both types are in use; and it would be advantageous, of course, for a novice to accustom himself to handle either. But from the point of view of those who operate large flying schools, and have to weigh one point against another, and eliminate so far as possible the elements of risk or difficulty, there are very distinct advantages in a "pusher" biplane, such as is illustrated [facing page 34]. The control of such a machine is simple, and can be grasped quite readily. It provides the novice, when he is seated in it, with a clear and unobstructed view of the ground immediately in front of and below him; and this, in the early stages of tuition, is an extremely important point. A craft of such a type, also, when built specially for instruction, can be given a very strong alighting gear, and this makes for safety when a pupil is in his first tests, and may be guilty of an abrupt or rough descent. Again, while such a school machine as this is engined adequately, it is at the same time comparatively slow in flight, and has the advantage also that it will alight at slow speeds. In the air, too, it has a large measure of stability, and is not too rapid in its response to its controls. It gives a pupil what is very necessary for him in his first flights, and that is a certain latitude for error. It is safe to say, indeed, without being dogmatic, that a "pusher" biplane of the type illustrated, if constructed specially for school work, offers a pupil two very clearly marked advantages. These are: (1) A craft which he can learn to fly quickly; and (2) A machine on which he can pass through his tuition with the least risk of accident.

This last-mentioned point is, naturally, one of extreme importance. It is very necessary, apart from any question of personal injury, that a pupil should be protected during his tuition from anything in the nature of a bad smash. A man should start to learn to fly with full confidence; the more he has the better, provided it is tempered with caution. And if he can go through his training without accident, and preserve the steadily growing confidence that his proficiency will give him, he is on the high road to success as a pilot. But if he meets with an accident while he is learning—some sudden and quite unexpected fall—this may have a serious and a permanent influence on his nerves, even if he escapes without injury. It happened frequently in the early days that a promising pupil, a man who showed both confidence and skill, had his nerve ruined, and all his "dash" taken from him, by some unlucky accident while he was learning to fly.

There are certain minor points a pupil should consider when he selects a flying school—points which have reference mainly to his own comfort and convenience. He will prefer, for instance, other things being equal, a school that is near some large town or city, and not buried away inaccessibly. It is a convenience also, and one that facilitates instruction, if a pupil can obtain, quite near the aerodrome, rooms where he can live temporarily while undergoing his instruction, and so be able to reach the flying ground in a minute or so, whenever and at any time the weather conditions are favourable. It is a convenience again if, either on the aerodrome itself or immediately adjacent, there is a canteen or restaurant where meals and other refreshments can be obtained. Dressing-rooms and reading rooms, when provided by the proprietors of a school, add to the comfort of the novice while he is in attendance on the aerodrome. In winter, particularly, such facilities are required.

At a modern school, if it is well conducted, all heroics or exceptional feats are discouraged. Pupils who want to do wild things must be sternly repressed, even if only for the common good. The aim is to train a certain number of pupils, not hastening over the tuition but giving each man his full and complete course, and to do this with a minimum of risk. In the early days of flying there were remarkable exploits at the schools, and some very dangerous ones also. But nowadays the reckless, happy-go-lucky spirit has gone. Tuition is based on experience. Each pupil must submit to the routine, and listen attentively to the instructions given him. There are no short cuts—not at any rate with safety—in the art of learning to fly.