CHAPTER VIII

Were I asked to state in brief my justification for writing this public record of the life and work of Harry George Hawker, I would say that Thursday, November 27th, 1913, should be remembered as a day marking one of the great innovations in aeroplane design, a feature which contributed largely to Britain’s supremacy during the Great War, and for which Harry was principally responsible, although he was always too modest to acknowledge that he had contributed more than a little towards it. The occasion was the arrival at Brooklands from the Sopwith Works of the 80 h.p. Gnome-engined Baby biplane, afterwards known as the Sopwith Tabloid. Although engined with a unit of orthodox dimensions, this machine could be described as a miniature biplane, the wing surface having been cut down to a minimum.

Prior to the inception of the Tabloid, the only reason for building biplanes, as opposed to monoplanes, was to get a large wing surface in as compact a form as possible. Therefore, when comparatively great weights had to be carried which demanded the use of big wing surface, biplanes were constructed. Furthermore, a certain structural weakness that had been revealed in the monoplane types of the day also contributed to the popularity of the biplane. But it was wholly a new idea to construct a biplane of smaller dimensions than the average monoplane. The initiation and general arrangement of this new type was entirely Harry’s work, and was a most wonderful stroke of genius.

Almost every day somebody achieves a measure of fame by constructing some machine or other (not necessarily an aeroplane) of colossal dimensions surpassing anything previously engineered, but to achieve notable success by adverting to a Lilliputian scale, seemingly primitive, is surely indicative of genius, and this is precisely what Harry did. The Sopwith Tabloid was a prototype which was copied far and wide by most of the leading aeroplane constructors in every country where aeroplanes were manufactured.

Naturally, when the machine arrived at Brooklands in its packing-case, Harry was very anxious to get it assembled and into the air, particularly as he was shortly returning “down under” to Australia, on a visit to his people and for a spell of flying there, and, all being well, he would take the Tabloid with him. After spending only an hour and a half in assembling it, he took the air and flew round the track at 90 miles per hour, an unprecedented speed for such a low-powered machine. His landing, too, was remarkably slow; and the speed contrast meant that his first design was an unparalleled success.

I am not sure whether he was inspired by the necessity of having a small machine to carry on board ship, or by Hamel’s performance in the Aerial Derby with clipped wings, but whatever it was induced him to design the machine, Harry was responsible for a trend in aeroplane design that has only been equalled in importance perhaps by the innovation of the monoplane wing devoid of external bracing, and even for this it could not be claimed that it was of incalculable, if any, value to the Empire and the world during the Great War. Fighting scouts—thousands of them—were subsequently made for the Allies, and were the outcome of Harry’s genius.

It is a fact of no small significance in view of subsequent events that when the Tabloid made its début at Brooklands a German aircraft concern was established there, and on Saturday, November 29th, Herr Roempler, a famous German pilot constructor, was flying one of the German D.F.W. machines.

The Tabloid was intended as a machine on which stunts of every description could be performed. Sopwith and Hawker were among the first to realise that manœuvrability, or the “stunting” property, was of more than mere spectacular interest, and that in time of war it would be of incalculable value. With such principles at the back of his mind, Harry announced his intention of looping-the-loop at an early date, a feat that Pégoud had introduced in order to demonstrate the strength of the Blériot monoplane and remove the prejudice against that type. The engine, tanks, pilot, and passenger were massed together in an unusually small compass, the passenger being seated side-by-side with the pilot. The original anticipated maximum speed was about 85 miles per hour, but in actual practice 94 miles per hour was exceeded. The wings, which were only very slightly curved, or cambered, measured only 26 ft from wing-tip to wing-tip. The curvature of the wings was considerably less than that of the standard type tractor biplanes, although wing spars of exactly similar section were employed—a notable instance of early standardisation. The original Tabloid had warping wings—not ailerons.

Pixton, who incidentally won the International Schneider Cup Contest at Monaco in the following year on a Sopwith Tabloid seaplane, had now come to the Sopwith hangars to carry on the work which Harry must relinquish during his sojourn in Australia.