The Aeroplane in War

by Claude Grahame-White; Harry Harper

Other authorities advocate, as a definite stage in a pupil’s course of training, an exercise which has not previously been touched upon. This entails arranging a machine so that it will move along the ground at a high speed, but will not ascend. The beginner should be allowed to manipulate such a machine for a day or so, running it up and down the aerodrome. Such a period of "rolling," as it has come to be termed at the flying schools, should be sandwiched between the pupil’s flights as a passenger, and his first attempt at solo work.

The first of these "rolling" tests should, it is held, be undertaken with an instructor. When he can control a machine perfectly well on the ground, the novice has learned a very useful lesson. In this "rolling" work, he becomes accustomed, also, to operating his engine controls, and shakes off the confusion that the noise of the motor so frequently occasions.

The pupil’s first solo flights should be nothing more than short jumps off the ground, made while moving along in a straight line. At the flying schools, these attempts at flight, on the part of novices, are described as "hops"; and, when performing them, the beginner resembles a young bird which is first trying its wings. He flutters into the air for a yard or so, and then descends again—not always elegantly.

"Hopping" practice, if systematically carried out, obviates the breaking-up of many a machine, because it teaches the pupil how to make a descent. Landing is, it may be pointed out, the chief difficulty for the beginner. He can usually get into the air all right—sometimes, more quickly than he desires. The problem is how to return to earth again, making a correct descent.

When a man learns to ride a bicycle, the inevitable tendency, which he displays, is to overdo the balancing movements. The result is that he swerves abruptly from side to side, and frequently comes to grief. The same mistake is, to a great extent, made by the novice in flying. He jerks his machine off the ground with an over-abrupt operation of his elevating plane, and he sometimes descends with a disconcerting dive.

It is not until he has been practising for some little time, that a pupil obtains what has been described as the "feel" of his machine. What happens, really, is that he suddenly obtains a sensitive touch upon his controlling levers; and then, instead of obeying his instructor without appreciating exactly what he has been doing, he begins to act for himself—with the commencement of that feeling of sureness which reveals the expert.

From "hops," according to expert ruling, the military pupil should proceed to straight flights of gradually increasing length. This recommendation presupposes the possession of an aerodrome of ample size. Nothing is, as a matter of fact, more important than a commodious aerodrome for purposes of instruction.

The selection of a ground which is cramped, or in a bad position, is very poor policy. Unless he has plenty of manoeuvring space, a pupil acquires a feeling of nervousness, which is sometimes disastrous. Under the influence of it, when he first assumes sole control of a machine, he is occasionally induced to make mistakes which result in the wrecking of machines.

A wide, flat, perfectly-unobstructed space is the ideal. When he brings his machine out upon such an aerodrome, the novice is inspired with a confidence which is half the battle. He feels he has not got to do things in a hurry; he knows there is plenty of room.

As soon as straight flights can be accomplished, the pupil should, it is held, be set the task of learning to "bank" his machine over, and make circles. The thoroughness of the pupil’s tuition, up to this point, should stand him in good stead. He knows his motor; he knows his machine; he is familiar with his controls; he is not flustered when he is in the air.