Utah Gliding History, 1927-1950 (Part 1 1927-1932)

INTRODUCTION—The early history of Utah gliding and soaring, as recalled herein by author Bob Meakin, who was directly involved during the latter half of much of it during the years 1927-1950, and pioneer Utah glider pilot Glenn Robinson, presents a quite typical cross-section of the development of motorless flight in the United States during the formative years of gliding club activity in America. - Harry Gann, American Aviation Historical Society

PREFACE—I was able to complete the research and •writing of this history due primarily to an interesting coincidental quirk of fate—call it what you will. Emma Robinson, wife of pioneering Utah glider pilot Glenn Robinson, ministering door-to-door with a group of Jehovah's Witnesses, happened to knock at the door of one Margaret Meakin of Salt Lake City. Upon hearing the name Meakin, Emma asked Margaret if she happened to know a Bob Meakin. "Why, yes—he's my stepson, living in Southern California. " Emma quickly explained that she and husband Glenn were old gliding friends of Bobs, a pleasant surprise for both.
      During a subsequent telephone call to me Margaret mentioned her meeting with Emma. Acknowledging my very close association with the Robinsons and staling that I had begun research for a Utah gliding-history article, I informed her that I could find nothing about a very early gliding club at the University of Utah. Margaret replied, "My goodness, my very dear friend and retired worker at the University, Vanilleer Marx Shafer, of Tooele, Utah, will know all about it. "
      Her brother, Theodore 'Ted' Marx, along with her husband Frank Shafer, were both among the co-founders of that University of Utah Glider Club — brother Ted being killed in a tragic glider crash! "
      With renewed hope I contacted Vanilleer Shafer. She gave me access to her well-filled photo albums and publications, which completely documented the University-sponsored gliding activities from the very founding in 1927 to disbandment in 1931 as a result of the fatal crash.
      I then contacted a surviving family member of the other principal Utah gliding founder, Frank Kelsey, of Salt Lake City. His son, Jim, pulled out stacks of boxes containing photos and other historically important material relating to his father's amazing participation in gliding and soaring for some 50 years and gave me full access to the lot!
       The final pieces of my research puzzle fell into place upon gaining access to friend Glenn Robinson's gliding albums and files. With my own quite extensive motorless flight collection at the ready, the stage was set! With complete research material now in hand and boxes of pencils and three-ring binder paper before me, I have authored the following article titled "Utah Gliding History —- 1927-1950, " which I believe to be the only comprehensive treatment of this subject yet written. - Bob Meakin

Aircraft of the FAA and its Predecessors (Part VI 1967-2001)

      The Federal Aviation Agency's seven years of independent I operation ended on April 1, 1967, when it was incorporated I as the Federal Aviation Administration in the newly-formed Department of Transportation. President Lyndon B. Johnson created the new cabinet level department in an effort to reorganize the various federal transportation agencies into one executive organization. In the same reorganization, the National Transportation Safety Board was created and assumed accident-investigation duties previously held by the Civil Aeronautics Board.
      As the Federal Aviation Administration was created, over one hundred aircraft remained assigned to the agency. After the inventory peaked in excess of 125 aircraft in the mid-1960s, the agency's fleet began a gradual reduction in the subsequent 30-year period to number less than 50. The mission of the FAA changed from one of system creation to system maintenance. Technological advancements made some efficiencies possible, while industry came to rely less upon federal leadership to lead the way in research and development. Some of the early gloss of the Federal Aviation Agency faded as air traffic control issues, mismanagement, and bureaucratic excesses began to dominate.
      Through the early seventies the FAA aircraft fleet changed considerably. Much of the research and development efforts were curtailed and those program aircraft needs diminished. Regional aircraft fleets were consolidated or eliminated. The flight inspection mission remained intact but efforts were made to replace the large outdated DC-3 fleet with more efficient turbojet aircraft. It was expected that one new North American Sabreliner could replace three of the slow DC-3s. Fewer aircraft meant fewer offices and personnel; many old Flight Inspection District Offices (FIDO) were closed or consolidated into new Flight Inspection Field Offices (FIFO).
      As the '60s drew to a close, two advancements loomed on the horizon of flight inspection. The technology applied to the earlier Semi-Automatic Flight Inspection (SAFI) equipment, . . . . . .

The Glider in World War II - The Waco CG-4A Combat Glider

       In the late 1920s, Germany began to develop a glider training program, because of the restrictions placed on the size of its Air Force by the Allies, under the terms of the World War I (WWI) peace agreement. Treaty of Versailles. Germany got around the treaty restrictions by developing a civilian aircraft industry, producing military aircraft in countries outside Germany, and a sport aviation (glider) program to mask Germany's Air Force potential, negating the Versailles Treaty restrictions. Germany's sports glider training program allowed future military pilots to train, while developing tactical concepts of moving troops by glider. 
      United States Army Air Forces (USAAF) General officers believed with the C-47 and C-46 transport, there was no urgency to research, develop, and produce an "engineless" cargo/troop transport. The assault or combat glider simply did not fit into future American air operations in the European War.
      The Germans unleashed their glider air arm on May 10, 1940, when 41 Ju-52s, each lowing a DFS-230 glider, headed toward the Belgian fort of Eben-Emael, carrying paratroopers and combat engineers. The DFS-230 glider pilot was also a paratrooper, who fought with the onboard eight to ten men he transported. These gliders landed on top of the fort, allowing the paratroopers to quickly exit the gliders, set demolition charges, force entrance into the fort below, leading to the surrender of the defenders inside the fort.
      This glider operation was followed on May 20, 1941, when 23,000 troops were delivered to Crete (with 300 Ju-52s and 75 DFS-230 gliders used in the first assault wave). Although German paratroopers gained tactical surprise, seizing their objectives, their 5,000 casualties, caused Adolf Hitler to cancel future airborne troop operations against the Allies. Across the Atlantic, the German airborne invasion of Crete had the opposite effect.
      The War Department directed the U.S. Army's Materiel Division, in February 1941, to begin engineering studies on the USAAF using combat gliders. British intelligence reports on the use of German combat gliders during the attack on the Belgian fort on the Western Front became required reading in the War Department. By April 1941, the War Department created an American Combat Glider Training Program. By June 1941, the War Department released a design competition for a cargo/transport combat glider.
      The War Department directed U.S. Army Colonel Bonner Fellers, Military Attache, assigned to the United States Embassy, Cairo, Egypt, to analyze and report on the German airborne invasion of Crete. In September 1941, his 258-page . . . . .

Aircraft Photos by Emil Strasser

      From 1932 to the early 1990s, Emil Strasser was a prolific photographer of aircraft. Using box cameras and later a Kodak "Monitor," Emil captured much of the Golden Age of Aviation on his trips to the National Air Races at Cleveland and the airports in Ohio. In later years, when 616 film was no longer available, Emil used 35mm color slides for his aircraft images.
      Emil was born in Akron, Ohio in 1911. During World War II, he worked for Goodyear Aerospace in Akron. In 1945, his family moved to California and Emil went to work for Northrop Aircraft in Hawthorne. Emil was a life-long bachelor and spent many hoars at the airports around the Los Angeles area. He went to the Reno Air Races and the Oshkosh EAA show almost every year. When Emil was well into his 80s, his legs started bothering him and he ended his trips to Reno and Oshkosh. Emil still attended the local airshows, but his health declined and he probably suffered with depression. His close friend Gerald Liang was one of his few personal contacts when Emil entered a care facility in 1997. Emil passed away at the care facility on June 7, 1997, at the age of 86.
      Emil left a wonderful collection of slides and black-and-white negatives, and over 500 rolls of unprocessed 616 film. After several years of work, Gerry Liang saved an amazing number of negatives from the old film, some of which were exposed in the 1950s! Because of Gerry Liang, the Strasser collection survived, and we all owe Gerry a big thank you.

Igor Benson, The GE Years

       Igor Bensen has been credited with the invention of the gyrocopter, a bit of a stretch perhaps but it is certainly true that he was the prime-mover in the development and popularization of that mini autogyro. Bensen formed his own company in 1953 and designed, built and marketed the gyro which he sold primarily in kit form. His timing was right on. The following years saw rapid growth in the homebuilt aircraft movement and his easy-to-build, reasonably priced machine had homebuilder appeal and sold by the thousands. Bensen's EAA number, by the way, was 577.
       In later years Bensen wrote a book in which he did a thorough job of covering the gyro years but was uncharacteristically silent about the years leading up to 1953. The fact that he worked for the General Electric company for about nine years prior to 1951 got only a passing reference in the books foreword.
       The story of the GE years is really a tale of two men; lgor Bensen, a Russian immigrant who came to the U.S. by way of Europe and later graduated from Stevens Institute in New York with a degree in mechanical engineering, and David C. Prince, who was hired by GE in 1913 soon after receiving a masters degree in electrical engineering from the University of Illinois. During WWI Prince spent two years with the Army Ordinance Department, part of that time in France where he worked on aircraft armament and had several flights in a Caudron.
      On January 1, 1945 the two major laboratories at Schenectady were merged and the combined organization given the name GE Engineering and Consulting Laboratory. The man chosen to lead this organization as a Vice President was D.C. Prince. Though Prince had risen to the upper levels of management through technical contributions which were mainly in the field of electrical engineering, he retained an active interest in aviation. By 1944 he had become fascinated with rotary wing aircraft and was following . . . . .

Aracobra Mystery

      Twenty-five years ago, I wrote a retrospective assessment of Bell's often maligned P-39 Airacobra. The introduction to this monograph included the following belief: "The Bell Airacobra has been presented and discussed by several authors - some with emotional bias, others through a journalistic desire to sell copy, and few from firsthand experience. Seldom has the aircraft been presented (by historians) in an objective manner nor has there been any particular emphasis on technical fact and documented data." In the intervening quarter century - I can hardly believe that much time has elapsed - the situation has little changed from my perspective. My purpose here is to provide a second look at factors in the P-39 evolution and why this promising concept slid so rapidly into obsolescence.

INTRODUCTION—Much has been written about the disappointing performance of Bell Aircraft's graceful, diminutive P-39 Airacobra. Critics of the airplane as a contemporary World War II fighter typically and rightfully dwell on the decided lack of high-altitude capability. The reason the Airacobra lacked suitable altitude performance is no mystery. It was critically deficient in engine supercharging. What has never been addressed is why this situation occurred. After all, the prototype XP-39 with its turbosupercharger appeared to be a world beater when it first flew. The purpose of this essay is to present what facts are known at this late date and offer a scenario on why the turbo was deleted from the Airacobra design. To do this, we must assess what happened in context with the times.

BACKGROUND—In March 1937, the two-year-old Bell Aircraft Corporation received an Army Air Corps invitation to bid on Type Specification Number X609 for a pursuit interceptor. The stated Air Corps mission for this design was "the interception and attack of hostile aircraft."2 No distinction was made as to the type of "hostile aircraft," bomber or fighter, in the Bell model specification proposal response. A minimum high speed of 360 miles per hour at 20,000 feet was a . . . . . .

Bell XP-39B.

Development of Transport Airplanes and Transport Equipment Part VII Light Miscellaneous Utility Aircraft 1940-1945

      Throughout the war, there was a demand in almost every theater for light-weight, short-range aircraft suitable for courier and express purposes. The specific functions required of such aircraft included hauling miscellaneous items of supply, transporting personnel, servicing industrial organizations, and transporting wounded.' In the summer of 1942, the letter "U" signifying "Utility" was prefixed to the Army Air Forces model designations of these aircraft carrying a payload of less than 2,500 pounds. This prefix, in addition to indicating utilitarian functions, visually segregated light cargo from heavy cargo craft.
      Because of the scarcity of military light-weight, short-range aircraft at the beginning of World War II, it was necessary to purchase strictly commercial aircraft from civilian owners. This haphazard procurement resulted in a motley assortment of transports with almost hopeless problems of maintenance.
      Among the aircraft so acquired were 20 Howard models with Army Air Forces designation UC-70. The wing of these five-place, single-engine transports was of spruce and plywood construction, while the fuselage was of steel tubing. That there was little official information regarding the UC-70s is evidenced by the statement of Colonel H.Z. Bogert, Acting Chief of the Engineering Division, when he said that the weight, structural analysis, and performance data were not available at the Materiel Command.
      There was a similar uncertainty and lack of detailed technical information regarding the 15 UC-36As procured from various private owners. As a result of a request for weight and balance information by the Engineering Division, Lockheed Aircraft Corporation stated that since the aircraft were commercial Electra, Model 10s, it was assumed that they were capable of "utilizing 10,500 pounds gross weight."" In relaying this information to the Commanding Officer of the 3rd Sub-Depot at Kirtland Field, Brigadier General P.O. Carroll, Chief of the Engineering Division, stated that "in absence of usual charts for the Handbooks of Lockheed UC-36As, other information which will permit the stating of weight and balance control is inclosed."
      Additional aircraft similarly procured about which little was officially recorded included 50 Stinson UC-81s, 42 Waco UC-72s, 16 Spartan UC-71s, and three Piper UC-36s."
      Beechcraft Travelers, variants of Beech Model 17s, composed another group of aircraft used for courier and express purposes. This type was purchased from the manufacturer in production quantities as well as from private owners. In the latter procurements, there was confusion as to the exact identity of specific airplanes. For example, in December, 1942, the Executive of the Statistical Control Office at Wright Field wrote to the Army Air Forces Technical Supervisor at Spokane, Washington, that a certain aircraft was designated C-17L in the records of the War Organization and Movement offices. However, in his correspondence, the Technical Supervisor referred to the model as a . . . . . .

Making the Movie, The Spirit of St. Louis

       The 135-minute film shot in Warner Color and CinemaScope took three years and $6 million to make. Actual filming was done from August 1955 to March 1956.
      Tom Tutweiler was responsible for the aerial photography. Expensive aerial footage was shot along Lindbergh's route - Long Island, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, over the Atlantic, over Ireland, and on to Le Bourget in Paris. Over 200,000 feet of film was shot for the movie. This was reduced to about 12,000 feet in the final cut.
      Three reproductions of the original Ryan NYP Spirit of St. Louis were procured for use in the film. Warner contracted with Paul Mantz Air Services, Inc. to provide two of them. They were modified by Joe Pfeiffer from well worn production Ryan B-l Broughams at the Mantz Aviation hangar at Orange County Airport, CA. The third was found in Greeley, Colorado, by Hank Coffin and was acquired by James Stewart and Joe DeBona. It was also a well worn B-1 Brougham. Details follow:

The Berliner-Joyce OJ-2 - From the Back Seat

      August 1937 was a great month for me, my 17th birthday fell in that month. I was then, and still am, an airplane nut. My father, as was his habit on my birthdays, took me to Oakland Airport and we walked the ramp and looked at airplanes. When we arrived at hangar four, where the Naval Reserve was based, we hung over the fence while I drooled at the sight of the silver/gray airplanes with the yellow top on the upper wing.
      I did not know it at the time but my dad had a friend, head of the Boeing School of Aeronautics in Oakland. In his spare time he was Commanding Officer of Scouting Squadron 15, NRAB, Oakland. There he was known as Commander Alien Bonelli. Later that same week my dad called Cdr. Bonelli and inquired if there were any vacancies in the Reserve group. Bonelli suggested I visit the next active duty night, the third Thursday of the month, and he would see what he could do. I did and he did. Within the next month I was sworn in as an Apprentice Seaman in the Naval Reserve.
      At that time we newly enlisted reservists were volunteers and served without pay until such time as a pay slot opened up. In the meantime we washed planes, tended official vehicles and kept the hangar clean with a "clean sweep down fore and aft." We also waited our chance to fly during our two active duty Sundays a month when Scouting Squadron 15 flew. We shared alternate Sundays with the Marine Corps Reserve.
      The base had a number of aircraft. My first choice for a ride was the Grumman SF-I, a two-place scout, we had a half dozen as I remember. It was a long wait for a back seat in one of those. We also had three Berliner-Joyce OJ-2s which were considered second place for the back-seater who was really waiting for a ride in an SF-I. But it did beat the heck out of staying on the ground.
      One Sunday I was selected for the back seat of an OJ-2. I reported to the flight line, was assigned a plane and went to it, put on my chute and climbed aboard. I had my 35mm camera with me for any photo ops that might occur. The flight was to be a formation flight ending with a smoke bomb drop on a target. I had been told that one of the best opportunities for an air-to-air photo was when . . . . . . 

Berliner-Joyce OJ-2.