The Romance of Aircraft

by Laurence Yard Smith

That is the reason the aviator of to-day dares to perform all the marvelous tricks in the air of which we read. Back of the stories of heroism and daring that have come from the battle line during the Great War, and back of the great commercial feats and enterprises that are being planned for the near future, we must not lose sight of the remarkable progress in airplane manufacture and the careful painstaking research and experiment that have resulted in greater safety in the air.

Of course it was the war that spurred every one on to do his best in the design and construction of airplanes. Before that time England and America had made very poor showings, and France, although deeply interested in aviation, had nothing in the way of a flying machine that would not seem ancient compared with the airplanes of the present time.

America came into the field of action late, and up to the time she entered the war she had practically no airplane industry whatever. Yet when she did get in she set to work with a will, and as every one knows she succeeded in making a real contribution to aviation in the war. Every brain that could be of service in our great country was mobilized. The automobile manufacturers did much for the cause, some surrendering their trade secrets for the good of the cause, and others turning over their large organizations to airplane construction. As a result, a recent report stated that there were 248 factories in the United States making planes, with over 150,000 men working on aircraft. In a single year this giant industry has sprung up, and the mechanical genius of America has been focussed upon this latest problem: the heavier-than-air machine.

It is inconceivable that our country, which can boast the invention of the airplane, should in peace times allow this great industry to wane. For a long time we slept while France was forging ahead in the design and construction of machines. The commercial uses of the airplane will be numberless, and it is bound to assume an ever more important and practical role in everyday life. America has the natural resources, and now that she has developed the tools with which to work and has trained a large body of young men to be capable pilots, she should look forward in the future to maintaining her proper place among the nations in airplane manufacture. The big bird of the sky who had his birth in America and who grew to such enormous proportions during the strenuous days of war, must not be allowed to lose his American manners when he turns to peace pursuits.

CHAPTER X
The Training of an Aviator

It is a rocky road that leads from the obscurity of civilian life to the glory and achievement of a successful “bird-man.” The man—or the boy—who elects to follow it must be possessed of brains, physical perfection, and iron grit, for he will need them all if he is to become one of the “heroes of the air.” With one's feet on solid earth it is easy enough to make mistakes and profit by them, doing better the next time. The airman seldom profits by his serious blunders, for he is no longer on the scene when the experts are pointing out what error he was guilty of. The moment his machine, after a run across the ground, suddenly lifts and goes skimming off into the blue, he must depend upon himself. No friend upon the earth can shout to him any advice; his own unfailing knowledge and quick judgment must dictate in every emergency and see him through until once more he alights upon this old world.

Fortunately the War has proved that there were many young men able to do just that—depend upon themselves in situations so critical that the slightest deviation from the right course, the slightest hesitation about what to do next, would have cost them their lives, and their government a costly airplane. Such men have covered themselves with glory, and have won the love and admiration of their people. But they did not achieve their daring exploits nor make their marvelous records in the air until they had passed through a series of tests and a system of training so rigid that it might well have discouraged the most stout-hearted.

Why must the aviator be physically perfect? Just imagine for one moment some of the hardships and perils he will have to face. The higher the altitude at which he flies, the more intense becomes the cold. In some regions of the upper air temperatures as low as 80° and 90° below zero have been recorded by fliers. And rushing through the air at such speeds as 150 miles an hour produces a strain upon the lungs which only the strongest and sturdiest can endure. Nor is this all. The tiniest defect in the mechanism of the inner ear may cost the airman his life, if he undertakes night flying. If only he were required to fly in broad daylight when there were neither clouds nor darkness to obstruct his view of Old Mother Earth, he might manage to get along with a less-than-perfect ear. But at night,—on a cloudy night at that, when there are no lights on earth to guide him and no stars visible in the sky—the aviator faces some of his gravest perils. Strange as it may seem it is often very difficult for him to tell whether his machine is in a horizontal position, whether he is flying right-side-up or is toppling over at a perilous angle. The only thing which helps him in this extremity is a slight reflex action in the inner ear which warns him of any loss of “balance.” In the same way perfect vision is absolutely essential to the man who must be prepared for any sort of aerial emergency. This does not mean merely “seeing well.” It means the absolute working right of the lens and muscles of the eye, their quick readjustment to normal after any series of loop-the-loops, after a nose dive or any sort of acrobatic stunt an airplane may be called on to perform.

So it goes with every one of the physical requirements laid down by the military authorities for men who would become fliers—they are not just arbitrary requirements, but are based on long experience of the demands which flying makes upon the system. In peace times the aviator may be able to get along with somewhat less than the physical perfection required of the military aviator, particularly if he takes up flying merely as a sport, for he will be able to spare himself the night flying and all the other difficult feats which have been required of the aviators in the war. But the next few years are going to see many new commercial duties opening to the airplane, and the pilots who guide these great ships of peace and industry will no doubt be chosen by just as high standards as our military aviators.