Argentinian Air Operations: Guided Missiles

Just days after the American and British forces broke through the German defenses at Normandy, foreshadowing the end of Nazi rule over the European Continent, much of that country’s top technical personnel began to filter out in hopes of escaping the ever closing circle. Most were captured by the Western Allies (United States and Great Britain); others were ‘recruited’ by the Soviet Red Army, which was rapidly pushing from the East. While another group managed to slip past the allied hands. Most of them made their way towards South American.

The Republic of Argentina was one of the most prosperous regions in Latin America. It had a big German population, a vast land region and Perodian government with a slight Nazi flavor. It also possessed one of the strongest militaries in the Western Hemisphere. With the arrival of several German engineers and technicians, the Argentines began formulating several advanced new military projects. Chief among them were the AM-1 and PT-1 missiles. The AM-1, an air-to-air system codenamed Tabano, had the distinction of being South America’s first indigenous developed missile. As was the PT-1 air-to-ground platform.

Spearheaded by a trio of legendary German engineers, Werner von Baumbach and Ernst and Emil Henrici, Argentina began the development of its own version of the famous Henschel Hs-293, the first operational guided air-to-ground missile in the world. Designed by Baumbach and the Henrici Bothers, and built by the Specialized Weapons Section (Seccion de Armas Especiales) of the Military Construction General Direction, a subdivision of the Gaucho Army. The Argentinean version of the 293, the PT-1, was basically a complete copy of the original.

The PT-1 or Guided Missile (Projectil Teledirijido), consisted on a 441 pound bomb warhead fitted inside a V1-type structure of 11 feet, 7 inch with a wing span of 9′10″. Total weight was 2,205 pounds. With an initial speed of 195 knots and capable of reaching speeds of 513 kts, the ‘Projectil’ had an effective 18.64 miles range. The optimum launch altitude was estimated at 22,000 feet. Operation of the system was also similar to its 293 cousin’s profile.

Operation Sovereign or Operacion Soberania, the design and development of Argentina’s first air-to-surface missile system commenced in the summer of 1952, with an specially modified Douglas C-47 Dakota. The strong built transport was fitted with a ventral boom that was placed through a series of high stress aerodynamic tests. At the same time, the newly produced PT missile was extensively examined at the Fabrica Militar de Aviones (FMA) advanced wind tunnel. Also at FMA, a surplus Gloster Meteor I-087 was altered to carry a ventral pod with the tail of the missile. But the most promising launching platform was the venerable Avro Lancaster B-036 heavy bomber.

The Lancaster provided the PT with a more stable deployment system. As configured by the German engineers, the B-036 consisted of a launching rack, installed below the huge bomb bay doors. On April 22nd 1953, the Lancaster replaced the Dakota as the PT’s main deploying platform. Captain Federico Muhlenber was assigned to the initial test phase. Eventually, he will be replaced later by Captain Di Pardo in that task. It was Di Pardo who will have the honor of deploying the last PT missile nearly five years later.

The 036 was assigned to the 1st Air Brigade (I Brigada Aerea). The testing phase began at earnest in October 1953. Flying out of Monzon, the home base of the VII Air Brigade, Muhlenber took the Lancaster through his phases. First it was taxing and runway operations, which ran smoothly. Then, on the 6th, the aircraft took to the air for its initial flight with the PT attached to its belly. The bomber performed flawlessly that autumn morning turning and banking without much effort.

Several more flights were made until the afternoon of the 20th when, flying above the Rio Plata, one of the left engines failed forcing the aircraft to plunge near Quilmes, a suburb of Buenos Aires. Von Baumbach, Ernst Henrici and a mechanic die in the accident. The aircraft and the missile were also lost. After the tragedy, the Argentines when back at work on another altered Lancaster, tail sign B-037. As the same time work was done on preparing the new plane, the design team slightly altered the configuration of the original Projectil. The improve platform was called PAT-1. The only variant from the original was a larger fuel tank which gave the missile a top operational range of up to 30km. The first recorded launch of the PAT system occurred in late November 1954 at the General Soler firing range. Flying at 15,000′, the 037 entered a dive, a few seconds later Latin America’s first air-to-surface missile was released.

Work on the system continued until September 17th 1955, when the government decided to introduce it as part of their efforts to stem the tide of the rebel forces in the country’s Revolucion Libertadora. The first target of the PAT-1 was to be the Pajas Blanco Airport at Cordoba. But before the Lancaster B-037 was able to take off, an incoming rebel Lincoln aircraft bombed the Monzon base destroying the sole aircraft capable of firing the PAT platform.

By 1956, the air force had modified another Lancaster, B-043 and testing resumed at El Palomar Air Force Base at the outskirts of the River Plate. The first launch took place in the morning of October 5th. A second test was performed on the 18th. Several other deployments took place between the 19th and 21st. On the 22nd, while on take off, the 043 suffered a small fire forcing the pilot to abort the test mission.

The end of the Revolution in 1958 also signaled the end of the PAT-1 program. With the formation of a new and democratic government under the auspices of dovish President Frondizi, many military projects were closed down, including the much promising Operacion Soverania. Now, fifty years since its maiden flight, only one sample of the first Latin America guided missile exits. Its sits at the Military School Museum in Buenos Aires.

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

19 Variants of the ‘Man in the Missile’ Starfighter

‘Man on a Missile’, that’s how many Starfighter pilots refer to their experience flying one of the most intriguing aircraft ever developed: the Lockheed F-104. From its conception, the Starfighter was one of the most revolutionizing airplanes in the history of aviation.

Its streamlined, powerful engines and advanced electronic and weapons packages made the F-104 one of the most powerful platforms in the world. Ahead of its time by years, the Starfighter will field many NATO air forces for decades. And although the aircraft did not generate the in-house interest that the United States Air Force envisioned when they first presented the blueprint, the plane did manage to become a standard bear for overseas sales.

There were a total of 19 variants of the Starfighter. Most of them were flown by overseas customers such as Japan, Canada and Italy, which continued to operate the air superiority fighter into the 21st century.

Although several units had longer airframes (by fractions), all 19 versions were similar in their fuselage profile. The F-104 had a length of 55 feet, a wingspan of just 22 feet with a total wing area of 196 square feet, including a part that was enclosed in the fuselage. The wing structure had a very thin low aspect ratio (probably the thinnest wing ever employed) for high speed enhanced performance.

1. F-104A: This is the first production version. Fitted with a General Electric (GE) J79-3A engine capable of generating 14,800 pounds of thrust, the A model could reach speeds upwards of Mach 2. Its operational range was an impressive 1,450 nautical miles with its full complements (2 removable wingtip tanks) of fuel tanks. Armed with the famous M61-A-1 Vulcan Cannon and two, first generation AIM-9B Sidewinder air-to-air missiles, the ‘A’ was a powerful offensive machine. At the heart of the model attacking capability was the sophisticated AN-ASG 14T-1 Fire and Control System. Early units were fitted with downward ejections seats, but in the second delivery batch, those were replaced by the C2 upward platform. The A version also had the distinction of being the first aircraft fitted with the Boundary Layer Control mechanism. One hundred and fifty three (153) F-104As were developed.

2. F-104B: This was a two seated version of the A model. It had the same power plant and overall dimensions. The two main differences were maximum takeoff weight and the Vulcan gun. In the B, top operational weight was slightly lower (23,535 to 24,528). Unlike the early 104s, the B did not incorporate a forward firing gun. It did have the pylons to carry the two Sidewinders and was fitted with the 14T-1 Fire and Control system. Lockheed produced 26 of this type.

3. F-104C: Seventy seven (77) of this all weather fighter-bomber were produced, all for the United States Air Force’s Tactical Air Command. The C model introduced the platform for the first time to a new in-flight refueling system that employed a probe fitted on the left side of the cockpit. Another innovation present in this version was the Blown Flaps (BF) mechanism added to improve the plane’s takeoff capability. A new and improved power plant (J79GE-7) capable of generating upwards of 15,000 pounds of thrust with afterburners was also introduced with this configuration. Total operational range was achieved at 1,640 nautical miles. This particular unit suffered from engine failures that caused the loss of 24 aircraft and nine pilots. Eventually, those problems were resolved and the version remained in service for nearly 35 years.

4. F-104D: Only 24 ‘D’s were ever produced. This version was basically an enhanced ‘C’ unit with some refinements. It had the same engine and navigational system of its predecessor. It’s main different was the absence of the M-61 Gatling Gun.

5. F-104DJ: This unit was an special version developed for the Japanese Air Self Defense Force. It was fitted with the J79GE-11A engine capable of generating 15,800lbs of thrust and no Gatling Gun, this was essentially an upgraded D model. Only 20 units were developed.

6. F-104F: This 30-plane strong batch was developed for the West German Air Force. Its frame was a replica of the DJ’s one. The standard packaged of this version was the same of the Super Starfighter (F-104G).

7. F-104G Super Starfighter: The most produced (1,127 total units) member of the class, the G went on to be the standard bear of the platform. No less than 8 companies (Canadair in Canada, Fiat in Italy, Fokker in the Netherlands, Lockheed in the US, MBB and Messerschmitt in West Germany, Mitsubishi in Japan and SABCA/Fairy in Belgium) participated in the 13 (June 1960 to October 1973) year production run. The Super as many pilots referred to it, was a modified C version with a reinforced frame, larger tail area with a fully powered rudder system. It also had engagement maneuvering flaps with a new avionic package that included the famous Autonetics F15-A North American Search and Raging System (NASRR). The model was powered by a revised J79GE-11A engine capable of generating 15,600 pounds of thrust. Maximum speed was Mach 2.2 with an operational range of 1,628 nm. Another improvement over previous versions was the incorporation of a more advanced navigational system: the Litton LN3. Introduced in the platform for the first time in its history was an internal bombing computer linked to the NASRS and the LN3.

8. RF-104GL: This was the tactical reconnaissance version of the ‘G’ model. It had the same fuselage characteristics of the previous unit, but instead of having its offensive package installed on the nose cone (Vulcan Cannon); this plane carried the highly sensitive KS-67a camera. It was also fitted with a flat sided fixed ventral pods for enhanced stability. One hundred and eighty nine (189) ‘GL’s were built by Fiat, Fokker and Lockheed between 1964 and 1968.

9. TF-104G: Is a common mistake to associate this version with a training platform due to its ‘T’ designation. But in fact, this was a highly regarded two seater tactical attack aircraft similar in its performing envelop to the F-104G. Like the G, it also carried the advanced NASRR and LN3 systems.

10. CF-104: This was a Canadian built version of the ‘G’ model. Internal characteristics and performing profile matched that of the Super Starfighter. They had the same NASRR system. Instead of the Vulcan Cannon, the CF carried the less expensive M61 Gatling Gun. It was powered by a J79OEL-7 engine (15,800lbs of thrust). Two (200) hundreds units were built. All by Canadair.

11. CF-104D: Basically a two seat version of the CF without the M61 gun. Only 38 were developed. Most of them were used as primary trainers.

12. JF-104: This was three unit batch specially modified for NASA and the US Air Force Strategic Air Command. Aside from the inclusion of the NASRR and LN3 systems in a ‘G’ version fuselage, no additional data exists on this platform.

13. F-104J: Another version built exclusively for the Japanese ASDF. A total of 209 units, 206 of them by Mitsubishi, were produced. This particular model is a replica of the ‘G’ model.

14. F-104N: Is another common misconception to believe all attached planes with the N designation have to become a nuclear delivery platform. Such is the case with this version. The 104N was a dedicated research aircraft utilized by NASA to test the limits of air frame endurance at high drag profiles. Because of the nature of the airplane, no weapon system was installed. Only three unites were ever built.

15. NF-104A: As with the 104N, this was test bed plane. But instead of being fielded by NASA, the NF-104A was a US Air Force advanced research units. The one difference between those two test aircrafts was that the A carried a 6,000 pound thrust rocket in the tail end structure. It also had extended wing tips as well as a new reaction jet control mechanism. As before, only three units were built.

16. QF-104A: The Lockheed Company, in conjunction with Sperry Phoenix, modified 24 F-104As as target drones. These target platforms were use between the summer of 1968 to the spring of 1973.

17. XF-104: This is the first platform built. Designed and develop by Lockheed’s famous Skunk Works division, two of this first generation versions were produced. The unit was powered by a non-afterburning Wright XJ-65 engine capable of producing 10,200 pounds of thrust. This power plant gave the XF a top operational speed of Mach 1.78 and a range of 800 nm. Its armament consisted on a M-61 Gatling Gun a K-19 Fire and Control System and the AN-APG34 Radar.

18. YF-104A: Seventeen (17) units were developed. This was basically an XF airframe, although a bit larger (54.77 feet compare to 49.17), with a more powerful engine (J79-GE-3A with 14,800 lbs of thrust). The plane also featured a newly designed supersonic conical inlets first seen in the XF version.

19. F-104S: The ‘S’ model has the distinction of being the last produced version of the Starfighter. These units, totaling 247, were built by Fiat and were intended soley for both, the Italian and Turkish air forces. It was an advanced, multi purpose aircraft capable of acting as an interceptor and/or tactical bombing platform. The interceptor mode carried an R-21G NASARR system and the AIM7 Sparrow II and AIM9 Sidewinder I missile. Its frame dimensions equal that of other F-104s. It had a J79-GE-19 engine (11,800lbs thrust) capable of generating speed upwards to Mach 2.2. Operational range was 1,589 nm. The production run for these units lasted from December 1968 until March 1979. A modernized ‘S’ version was built in October 1979. Only three samples were produced. All featuring an updated weapons package, a Look Down-Shoot Down Radar and the introduction of the Aspide 1A air-to-air missile.

References
Jane’s Aircraft Recognition Guide, Gunter Endres and Mike Gething, HarperCollins, 2002
Skunk Works, Benn R. Rich and Leo Janos, Back Bay Books, 1994

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

Flying Home Made Machines

Is flying home made machines safe? Just ask Wilbur and Orville Wright. They tried and failed. Then they tried again and again, finally succeeding in getting man in the air (if only briefly) in 1903. Maybe the most famous aviation explorers in American history this team of brothers didn’t let fear stand in their way of success. Still, their journey towards building the very first airplane didn’t come without a few close calls.

Since that fateful day more than a century ago thousands of other aviation enthusiasts have tried to build their own man-made airplanes. If you are one of them, steadfastly working on your own handmade airplane, flying scooter or even hot air balloon in your garage, then you will need to learn how to make flying home made machines as safe as possible to avoid disaster. Take a few of these tips from the Wright Brothers:

• Never test any aircraft (but especially a homemade one) alone. Always work in a team to keep a disaster at bay.
• Never cold-test any type of flying machine with a human – always test your machine with a robot or even a stuffed animal first.
• Be sure that you know what you are doing. If you are not absolutely certain that your machine will fly, do not climb in!
• Pre-test at low altitudes first. Try testing your aircraft from a low roof or hill before heading toward the closest cliff.
• Use every available caution. Wear a parachute; let local emergency personnel know about your test (better yet, have someone on hand to help out in an emergency); etc.

Building and flying home made machines can be exhilarating, but always be sure that you take safety seriously. After all, you want to be healthy – and in one piece – top enjoy your homemade aircraft for years to come.

Revolution in the Air: Gallaudet’s D-5, DM-5 and D-7 Models

In the winter of 1917, the Gallaudet Engineering Company finally completed their much anticipated land monoplane that used their patented Gallaudet-Drive Mechanism, a revolutionary engine driving a remote, mid-fuselage mounted propeller. The newly produced aircraft, call signed D-5, were to be the Company’s first true landplane platform after years of experimenting with the famous D-2 biplane.

In early January 1918, the company was submerged in developing the D-4 project, a tactical fighter for which they would receive a construction contract the following month from the United States Navy. But despite the immense work being done on the 4 model, Gallaudet engineers still found time to explore new ideas such as the 5 type. This new design was to use the reliable Liberty engine, first tested years before on American Expeditionary Force’s Farmans. Gallaudet designers use the D-5 project as a test bed for new technology. Chief among them was a cantilever wing structure with a thick airfoil, which have the distinction of being the first such wing design fitted into an American-develop air platform.

On the morning of January 7th, the company officially submitted a proposal to W.F. Durand; chairman of the influential NACA, for transmittal to the Aircraft Board for the building of what Edson Gallaudet called a “200-mph fighting monoplane”. The 5’s general arrangement is dated January 6th, so this proximity to the proposal and the lack of another competing design at this period, makes it almost certain that the D-5 was the 200-mph plane. Attached to the letter Durand received on the 7th were several detailed blueprints and specification sheets, with one of them being the D-5.

The designed D-5 was a mid-winged monoplane powered by a Liberty engine mounted on the nose. It had a 39′ wing span. The fuselage was 30′4″ in length and possessed a height of 7′-9″. The vaunted Liberty drove a mid-frame two blade propeller. The pilot was seated in an open cockpit between the engine and the propeller. The reconnaissance officer or observer as was call at the times, sat behind the propeller. Two fuel tanks were fitted at the front and the rear of the pilot’s seat. Tail surfaces were identically to the D-4, except for the absent of stub fins. The tail skid was an extension of the small rudder post. A cantilevered, thick and tapered wing gave the plane a distinct look.

Another departure from the D-4 was the use of rectangular spars in the fuselage’s cross section. The ailerons had an inverse taper with a wide base at the tips. A tall, fixed landing gear was fastened between the two wing spars near the wing root, which is estimated to be at 12 percent, thicker than usual for the era. The relative small air frame made it a necessity for the Liberty engine’s upper and down sections to be expose to the air stream.

During the early part of the March 1918, Gallaudet surprised the nascent aviation industry with another monoplane design, DM-5. the ‘M’ designation suggest a modified version of another platform, although no official documentation has been found to prove it. At the heart of the new version lay basically an improved D-5. The airframe was extended to 3′6″ wide and by 4′ high in order to fully enclose the Liberty engine. Still, the motor was big enough, in comparison with the mid frame, that the bottom oil sump was not covered. The wing was now a constant chord with a thin airfoil and no longer cantilevered, with a streamlined bracing line on top and bottom to the front and rear spars.

The ‘M’ concept called for two rectangular outlines on the wing’s surfaces near the root, which served as airfoil radiators similar to the ones used on the D-4. The biggest departure from the D-5 model was the incorporation of a retractable landing gear. A single leg per wheel retracted forward into the nose section beside the engine. The front of the airframe was composed on tubular longerons connected with cast bronze fittings braced by thin wires. The engine bearers appeared to have been built-up, sheet metal channel type as used on the D-4. There were three wing spars. All widest at the brazing wires attachment points and tapered from there towards both the tips and fuselage. The spars were rectangular in section and constructed out of metal sheet. The top and bottom parts of the aircraft were channel-shaped of .0625″ of thickness and the webs were .025″. All held together by an eight to a quarter diameter rivets.

Another of Gallaudet’s lesser known designs is the D-7 Mail Carrier. The drawing, which probably was made accordingly to a mid-1918 request by the United States government, was the project less coveted by Edson Gallaudet at that time frame. Unfortunately, little is know about the concept beyond its indented purposes of transporting mail through the air. But the few sketches that had survived pain a picture of a truly remarkable aeroplane. The design looks like a slightly larger, fixed landing gear version of the ‘M’ version. There are no indications of pilot seating or cockpit arrangement. No engine area is visible on the incomplete blue print. Span was to be around fifty feet. Fuselage length was 30′3″ with a total wing area of 337.5 square feet. The wing had two spars which were only indicated by a single dotted line on the paper. The rest of the data is missing or inconclusive.

It’s a testament to his innovating vision that almost a century later, all three models, D-5, DM-5 and D-7, are once again gaining the interest of aviation aficionados the world over.

The Aeroplane as a Long Range Gun, Journal of the Royal Artillery, R.G. Cherry, June 1919
Alpha, Bravo, Delta: Guide to the U.S. Air Force, Walter J. Boyne, editor, Penguin Books 2003
The Encyclopedia of Military Aircraft, Robert Jackson, Parragon Publishing, 2002
The Early Aviation History, American Years, Edward Von der Porten, Crowell Company, 1969

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

A French Pioneer ‘South of the Border’ Part II

As with Argentina, several other South American nations ushered in the aviation age riding the back of the venerable Bleriot Type XI monoplane. Of all the nations that compose the Latin part of the Western Hemisphire, no one has the sheer mass, vast natural resources and commercial capabilities than Brazil.

By far, the largest nation in Latin America at the turn of the century, Brazil was just awakening to her vast potential-including its aeronautical future, which had been forecasted so brilliantly by Alberto Santos-Dumont in his now famous newspaper article in the early days of 1907. Santos-Dumont was one of the earliest prootors of the airplane as a transportation platform to solve the problem that had plagued his homeland since its independence from Portugal back in 1822.

Few nations have been faced with the geographical challenges that make up this extremely diverse region of South America. These obstacles made the lure of aviation and the hope for a means for overcoming them, very enticing to Brazilian leaders. By the time the Wright Brothers first took to the air, the bulk of the country’s commerce, wealth and culture were situated around two metropolitan areas: Rio de Janeiro, on the southeastern coast and Sao Paolo, located further south. The rest of the country laid almost out of reach from its two main commercial sections.

As elsewhere, all things coming out of France were highly regarded in the land of the samba, and local entrepreneurs waited little time after 1909 in jumping into the Bleriot XI bandwagon. The first unit imported to Brazil was acquired by Giulio Piccollo, a leading member of the nascent Italian colony in Sao Paolo. The self taught aviator used the monoplane for public demonstrations at the local Velodrome. He performed stunts and maneuvers for thousands of admirers from mid June until late December 1910. Then, on that’s year Christmas Eve, he suffered a fatal accident while giving landing tips to several high school students in the small town of Natal.

The XI in which Piccollo crashed was recovered and rebuilt by an aspiring aviation pioneer, Alaor Teles de Queiroz. Unfortunately, on June 3rd 1911 during a test flight at the Prado da Mooca soccer field, he suffered the same fate as that of the first owner and so this particular Bleriot gained the dubious distinction of having being responsible for the first fatality by a Brazilian aviatior.

As with many other countries, a group of young Brazilian enthusiasts organized an aero club, which at least initially, had more ambition than hardware. Named the Aero-Club Brasileiro, the organization was formed on October 11th 1911, and it soon became the rage amongst the leading figures of Carioca society. Indeed, the Club’s first president was no other than Santos-Dumont, while the effective president was Jose Carlos de Carvalho, an admiral in the country’s navy. By October 22nd, the first flight over Rio was made by French pilot Edmond Plauchut in a Bleriot XI powered by a 50hp engine. The local press issued special editions calling the daredevil act an “Um Espectaculo Sensacional” (A Sensational Spectacle). Plauchut celebrated the occasion by taxiing the XI down the length of the Avenida Central. A beautiful painting of the moment now hangs in the Brazilian Air Force Museum.

Not long afterwards, in July 1912, the goverment dispatched an Army Lieutenant, Ricardo Kirk, to France to investigate the necessary training and studies needed for the foundation of an Escola de Aviacao (School of Aviation). Not surprising, his first stop was the Bleriot school at Pau. His trip set the stage for the creation of the Aviacao Militar, which as soon will be seen, invested heavily on the Type XI.

Another Italian adventurer, Ernesto Darioli, also toured Brazil with an early Bleriot version X. In the spring of 1912 he gave several aerial demonstrations in Rio, Porto Algre and Sao Cristovao. Later that summer, he flew out of Petropolis representing the newly formed Queen Aviation Corporation. The New York-based company was deep in the process of mass producing the Bleriot for the French who were in the middle of a major rearmament effort. The corporation was also known for its deep ties with several leading aviators of the day, including Rene Barrier, Edmond Auddemars, Charles Voisin and Roland Garros. Amidst its inventory, there were one original Bleriot, three copies, a Nieuport monoplane and a copy of the Santos-Dumont Demoiselle.

These distinguish body of talent and hardware was assembling at the Jockey Club on January 17th 1912 as the institution mounted what was termed as the ‘grand parade of aviation’ in Latin America. Members of the troupe made appearances in Santa Cruz, Niteroi, Petropolis and Teresopolis. One of the highlights of the tour was an altitude attempt by Garros of 3,910 meters at Cancale, for which he was awarded the princely sum of 50 contos de reis by the Brazilian government.

While the activities of the Queen’s Company exhibitions were being enjoyed at home, the second Brazilian pilot to gain an FAI Brevet at the Escola de Bleriot (the first was Santos-Dumont) in France was Eduardo Pacheco Chaves, a native of Sao Paolo, who was issued his license on July 28th 1911.

Glowing in the aftermath of Queen’s success, Pacheco went on to establish the first flying school in Brazil at the Fazenda de Guapira, in the outskirt of Sao Paolo. No sooner than the young adventurer had began giving lessons, that the government issued a prize of 20 contos for the first pilot that completes the challenging flight from Sao Paolo to the city of Santos. Pacheco and Garros accepted the invitation and entered the contest. Using virtually identical Bleriot XI aircrafts, both aviators took off from Santermo baseball field on the morning of March 8th 1912. Despite several mechanical set backs, young Eduardo was able to defeat the more experience Garros in the race referred to as ‘The Race to Serra do Mar’. Beside path breaking races, Pacheco is also credited, in company with his friend Garros, with making the first air mail delivery in Brazil.

To be continued.

A French Pioneer ‘South of the Border’ Part I

Without a doubt, the Bleriot XI monoplane was one of the most revolutionizing aircraft of the Twentieth Century. Designed and built by the famous French pioneer, Louis Bleriot, it became a staple in the early days of aviation when, with his inventor at the controls, it managed to cross the English Channel on the morning of July 25th 1909. The amazing feat placed Bleriot and France atop of the nascent aeronautical world. Commencing in the fall of 1909, this deceptively flimsy-looking aircraft was the object of attention bfor many countries in the world. Surprisingly, leading the charge to acquire the aeroplane were a hosts of South American nations. This early and substantial interest was mostly influenced by the exploits of Alberto Santos-Dumont. The Brazilian born pilot and adventurer captured the hearts and minds of all who saw him perform daredevil stunts. Much of Latin American was bombarded by tails of his success, and several of his failures in the world of aeronautics.

Much like in the United States and Europe, heavier-than-air flight in Latin America prior to 1914 was viewed as an expression of self achievement. Like an artist stamping his painting with one remarkable canvas, South American pilots were planting their flag in the world of the aircraft one step at the time. Flying and everything involved with it sparked passion in a male-driven Latin America. While it’s relatively easy to associate early flight with wealth and power, there is ample evidence that men of modest means and ample courage were also engaged in the trait. Young men and women too, from Buenos Aires to Rio de Janeiro began to dream about flying. In short, a revolution had begun South of the Border.

It is against this backdrop that the Bleriot XI made his long awaited début. The first South America country to receive a XI was Argentina. Following the July 1909 feat, the Buenos Aires government purchased two samples of the airplane. Both fitted with a rudimentary 25 horsepower Gnome engine. Both units departed Marseille for the Argentinean coast aboard the steamer Parana. Accompanying the two Bleriots; three Vosin biplanes and a single Santos-Dumont. On the 2,000 mile trip were some of the biggest names in aviation. Louis Moriaud, Emilio Edwards, George Richet, Henri Bregi and Emile Auburn were all part of the Bleriot-Argentina package.

The two XIs arrived in the austral republic on March 2nd, 1910. Three days later, and with the 29 year-old Auburn at the controls, Argentina had its first Bleriot airborne. The following day, Auburn took the aircraft on what was widely accepted to be South America’s first night flight. Impressed with the new airplane’s performance, the Aero Club Argentino, one of the oldest aeronautical organizations in the Americas, sponsored the continent’s first aviation meet at Villa Lugano, just seven years after the Wright Brother’s experiments at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. It was a resounding success as the Bleriot joined with a Henri Farman sample to produce one of the most memorable days in the country’s history.

By the middle of November, two more French daredevils, Armand Prevost and Rene Volant, arrived in Argentina with another XI, this time powered by a 25 horsepower Anzani engine. The duo performed stunts all over the country and even ventured outside it when they flew the XI to the city of Concepcion, Uruguay. The flow of Bleriot pilots continued. In the summer of 1910, Bartolomeo Cattaneo, an Italian who resided in Paris, came to Buenos Aires with the intention to teach aviation to the Argentinean capital resident. His first pupil was a young man named Leopoldo Delphyn, who became one of the few locals to actually own a XI.

In mid August Cattaneo was approached by Nicholous Mihanoutch, a Russian-born banker who had resided in Buenos Aires since the turn of the century, to make a demonstration flight across the broad Rio de la Plata from the austral capital to Montevideo, Uruguay. For this ground breaking venture, Delphyn’s XI was fitted with a 50hp Gnome power plant. On September 16th, the Italian took-off from a rudimentary field outside the capital’s suburbs; he made it as far as Real de San Carlos in the Uruguayan province of Colonia, a distance of 58 kilometers, 32 short of his intended objective. Two days later, he managed to complete the journey.

The record breaking attempts continued. On December 1st, 1912, Argentinean Army Corporal, Teodoro Fels, performed the longest, over water flight in history when he flew a XI unit from its first operational home base at El Palomar in the outskirts of the capital, to Montevideo, Uruguay, then on from there to Talas-Berisso and from that point, back to El Palomar, on the third day of his epic adventure, all over the broad estuary of the Rio de la Plata. A total of 150 miles were covered in a time of two hours and twenty minutes. The Corporal wanted to make the return journey the same day, but his plane experienced engine trouble obliged him to delay it for one day. The following morning he made it back to the Bleriot’s base. The unprecedented achievement sparked even more record setting attempts. On January 1911, an Army flying instructor, Alberto Mascias, flew a XI sample at an altitude of 3,000 meter. Leaving the ground at 6:40 in the morning (local time), he climbed steadily to 2,000m, flying in the direction of Lujan. He remained at that altitude for around twelve minutes.

On May 1913, the Bleriot fleet was augmented by two additional units as XI-type 2 arrived in the country. These machines were fitted with a more powerful motor, an 80hp Gnome Omega engine. A year later, and with France and much of Europe involved in the Great War, Argentina stopped receiving Bleriots. Still, two ordered units managed to make the trip to the Land of the Gauchos before 1916. By April 1918, the Army was able to field one full (seven units) squadron of Bleriot. Six more XI were used by the Escuela de Aviacion Militar (Army Aviation School) for training and testing. Nevertheless, by this time attrition and the post war surplus glut of more capable airplanes took their toll. By 1919, only two operational units remained in service. These Bleriots were active due mostly because sentimental reasons amongst the senior cradle at the School who saw them as the source of their initial knowledge about aviation.

The Argentinean affection with the Bleriot XI was expressed in the time-honored fashion of indigenous builder Pablo Castaibert, whose 25hp Anzani powered 1911 monoplane bore an uncanny resemblance to the fabolus French design. Today, a single genuine XI, possible the oldest surviving plane in Latin America, still exist in Argentina. Fitted with a 25hp Anzani engine, it is reportedly to be one of the two airplanes of the type exported to the nation by Mestre et Blage, a French firm, in 1910.

References

Air Power: The men, machines, and ideas that revolutionized war, from Kitty Hawk to Gulf War II, Stephen Budiansky, Penguins Books 2004
The Way of the Fighter, Clarie Chennault, Putman Books 1949
The Complete Story of Latin America, Charles Marison, Penguin Books 1992

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

HALO in the Skies - Britains Attempt at Stealth Technology

The once mighty British Royal Air Force Base at Warton, home to major elements of the British Royal Air Force during World War II, is now a development and testing facility for the BAE System Corporation, the last of Great Britain’s biggest aircraft design and developmental companies. Warton’s runways had been proving ground for some of Britain’s greatest aircrafts of the last four decades. The venerable close-support bomber Canberra, the Lightning, the BAE’s Hawk and the Panavia’s Tornado fighter-bomber, all first took to the air from Warton’s runways. The final Tornado left Warton in the summer of 1998, a GR1 model whose destiny would be the Royal Saudi Air Force. These days, Warton is used for several purposes by the Royal Air Force. Part of the base is being designated to be the final assembly stop for Europe’s next generation air-superiority fighter, the Typhoon.

The base also accommodates major elements of Britain’s air defense system. Warton would be the home to the two initially deployed Typhoon squadrons, the No. 29 and No. 17. In addition, Warton was utilized as a test bed for the newly improved Nimrod MRA4 maritime reconnaissance aircraft. Eventually, the Nimrod would be based at RAF Kinloss in Moray. But the base’s main function in Britain’s aircraft development program is that of a testing facility for new technology. The current technology being tested at Warton is rumored to be England’s first true and indigenous Stealth Airplane.

Between the years of 1992 and 1994, the British government invested the amount of 100 million pounds to research the feasibility of developing a workable stealth fighter program. Following the recommendations of a formal feasibility study in early 1997, BAE urged the government in London to start a crash-course program for the design and production of Britain’s first stealth plane. This generates the first recorded data about a stealth program in the UK. The idea, as rumor has it, is that Great Britain, having observed the low operational capability of its Tornado fleet in Desert Storm (1991), decided that a replacement, a stealth fighter was needed to maintain air superiority over non-power dominated areas. Late in 1992, it was reported by some media outlets that the RAF was hard at work, fielding a Stealth Technology Demonstrator Aircraft that should had been ready by the end of the 1990s.

It’s known that RAF second generation Tornados had been testing Radar Absorbing Materials since the middle of 1991. HALO, or High Altitude Low Observables, is the name assigned by many to Britain’s effort to develop and produce a front-line stealth fighter-bomber. Most aviation experts believe that the HALO program closely resembled that of the United States Navy’s A-12 Stealth Bomber. The program was “officially” cancelled in the mid 1990s. All of this is in the background of “small silver flying triangle” sightings all over the southern coast of England since 2000. Can Britain be in the midst of developing an indigenous stealth platform?

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

Charles Hamilton - Flying With A Pioneer - Part 2

The last time we saw Charles Hamilton he was tracking down American aviation pioneer Glenn Curtiss with the hopes of learning the difficult art of flying from one of the masters. Although the pair did not met until October 1909, it was rumored that Curtiss kept a close eye on the flying prodigy, probably because of his association with the New York aviation scene. In November 1909, the duo made its way to Hammondsport where Curtiss gave Hamilton a crash curse into the integrancies of powered aviation utilizing a Hudson-Fulton flying machine. After just a few, broad pointers in steering and propulsion, Hamilton took off from a rudimentary baseball field in Hammondsport, New York. For the first time in his life, the eager daredevil was piloting a heavier-then-air machine all by himself. By the end of the month, Curtiss, now fully aware of his pupil abilities, placed him under contract as a stunt aviator.

Hamilton’s first show was in Saint Joseph, Kansas, after which he move to Kansas City, Missouri for a series of more complex shows before being drafted by Curtiss to participate in the ground breaking air fair at the Dominguez Field, outside Los Angeles. From January 10 through the 20th, he competed against the best pilots in the world. “The guy can really fly!”, commented Curtiss in a 1915 interview after seeing Hamilton effortless cruising by the white California skyline. The sight must had really made an impression on the entrepreneur because on the 25th he entrusted in his former student with his company’s prize possession, a Rheims Racer, the aircraft on which he won the prestigious Gordon Bennett Trophy at an air contest in Rheims, France.

With the Rheims in tow, Hamilton went on an eleven cities, two months tour starting in Phoenix, Arizona. The circuit took him to San Antonio, El Paso, Oklahoma City, Salt Lake City, Sacramento, San Francisco, Los Angeles before ending in San Diego. The tour ended abruptly in July due to a monetary dispute between him and Curtiss, who promptly moved to repossess the airplane. This left Hamilton without a flying machine for a moment. In the mean time, he went whereever a stunt pilot was needed.

His passion for flying took him north, to Minneapolis, Minnesota. A month later he found his way once again to his beloved New York, more precisely, Ithaca. There he hooked up with Tom Baldwin and his nascent air carnival. While flying seven hours a day for Baldwin, Hamilton was quietly developing his own aircraft. Finished on the 31st of August 1910, he named the flying machine ‘the Hamiltonian’. The ‘machine’, as Baldwin called it, was constructed in the auto factory of an old friend, Walter Christie, and it was basically a Curtiss clone. Its most remarkable feature was a 120hp Christie engine, at the time the most powerful motor ever attached to a heavier-than-air machine.

By the first of September 1910, Hamilton was flying his beloved aircraft all across California. A string of seven air shows in five weeks was planned but faith intervened. On the 15th, while flying a routing stunt demonstration outside Sacramento, his ‘Hamiltonian’ stalled before plummeting to the ground. Both the aircraft and its pilot, who escaped with minor injuries, survived the accident and continued to fly, but Hamilton would never be the same. He became paranoid about anyone and everything. It became common for him to carry a gun and cash on his trousers every time he went flying. To complicate matters, he took on drinking.

Still, he continued to fly until the middle of October when the decision was made that the Hamiltonian was too unpredictable to fly, so he dipped into his pocket and bought a genuine 50hp Bleriot XI. The new plane changed his life. On the 29th, he joined in with a new aviation group, the Moisant International Aviators Company out of Manhattan. The MIA was headed by John Moisant and performed several, big events across the East Coast. During his association with the MIA, Hamilton occasionally used his own machine, now fitted with a 14-cylinder Gnome engine. As with Curtiss, the partnership with MIA did not last. From the Moisant’s point of view, he was not performing up to the expected level. Even when John Moisant died and Hamilton was appointed lead pilot, MIA officials still believe he was underachieving, and purposely.

From November 23rd to December 30th, Hamilton spent a total of just 46 minutes airborne, a far cry from the 64 total flying hours enjoyed by the rest of MIA’s aviators. Something was wrong. His drinking became heavier and more visible, which forced MIA’s hands. After a weeklong quarrel during a show in Mexico, the two parties called it quits for good. The information is scratchy, but there were rumors that after his departure from MIA, Hamilton tried to steal a couple of old flying machines from the Moisant warehouse in New York. What is known for fact is that after his departure, Hamilton showed up in Mineola sometime around the middle of February 1911 with a refurbished Whipple Hall Curtiss.

As March began, the now 26-year old decided to make a trip to France in order to purchase a brand new Farman airplane. He was all set to depart when W. Starling Burgess arrived on the scene. The significance of Burgess to Hamilton’s journey rests on what the entrepreneur had that Hamilton covets: a brand new Burgess-Wright F. He knew this was the machine for him. He tracked down Burgess at his Manhattan hotel, demanded to know how much he wanted for it, and was told the amount was $ 5,000. Hamilton took off a shoe, reached out six $1,000 notes, gave five to Burgess and the other one on his wallet.

The aircraft was delivered to New Britain where Hamilton would have to cope with the complex Wright control mechanism for the first time in his life. He immediately took the machine up, but on its maiden flight, he crash landed, largely destroying it. The parts that survive were sent back to the Burgess factory in Marblehead for rebuilding. Hamilton will go on weekends to Marblehead to receive flying lessons from Burgess’ chief pilot, Harry Atwood, a man with a life story parallel to his. Hamilton finished his student’s days by June. He moved to West Hartford, Connecticut where he purchases an abandonede baseball field. From there, he went on to make several shows on his own.

July saw a new twist in Hamilton’s life. All began on the 4th, when Atwood sets off from upstate New York to make a record flight to the nation’s capital. For yet unknown reasons, he invited Hamilton to join in the endeavor. On the 14th, Atwood crashed his plane forcing Hamilton to lend his Burgess-Wright. The duo took off from Atlantic City on the early morning hours of the 17th, and landed in College Park, around ten in the evening. The events that follow his landing at Maryland are not well documented, but one thing is clear, he was back with Curtiss by the end of July. The association was based on the belief by Curtiss that Hamilton was the best pilot still unsigned for the New York-Philadelphia race. As things turned out, Hamilton withdrew from the race citing, oddly enough, a lack of current experience in a Curtiss aircraft.

He did not surface on the aviation scene again until January 1912 when he made a series of demonstrations in Galveston, Texas on behalf of the new Chicago Aviation School. The exhibition ended with a crash on the third of February. Unlike the crash of 1911, this time Hamilton suffered severe injuries, especially to his collar-bone. The injury apparently had little effect on Hamilton’s desire and by the 20th he was back at it again. In March he teamed up with Glenn Martin and Blanche Scott for a series of shows along the west coast. But time was running out for him. He does some flying early in 1913, but by spring things began to worsen. His wife left him in April, which makes him drink even more. He eventually ends up in a Connecticut sanatorium where he spends much of the year.

He emerges for the last time in November, flying a Boland’s tailless flying boat out of Hempsyead, Long Island. His last recorded flight was on the afternoon of January 7th 1914. He dies on the 22nd of an internal hemorrhage in his New York home. A tragic end to a fully spend life.

Charles Hamilton - Flying With A Pioneer - Part 1

Charles Hamilton was one of the most enigmatic figures of the golden age of aviation. The Connecticut-born inventor, flyer and businessman, had a relatively brief but remarkable life as an aviation trailblazer. Before his time was through, Hamilton would become a parachutist, balloonist, dirigible driver and heavier-than-air pilot. His unusual ability to master such a wide range of machinery, placed him atop of a very distinguish list of fliers that includes the names of Curtiss, Wring and Bleriot. Very few can see their name related to such aviation giants.

Charles Kenney Hamilton was born in New Britan on the morning of May 30th 1885. When he was eighteen years old, the young pioneer decided to emigrate to the US southwest where he made a living as a balloonist and parachute jumper. His first recorded stunt was in July 1905 when he appeared in Israel Ludlow’s man-carrying kite experiments on Manhattan’s south side, in New York City. Ludlow, a successful New York City lawyer and amateur inventor, was putting his unorthodox aeronautical theories into practice with several tandem biplane box-kite configurations when he met the twenty year old. It is believed that at some point during the month-long experiments, Hamilton approached Ludlow and offered his service as a kite pilot. The lawyer quickly accepted the offer, thus ushering a life-long relationship that would revolutionize the face of the east coast aviation establishment for ever.

On August 19th 1905, Hamilton and Ludlow moved their operations to Brighton Beach, on the southern tip of New York’s Brooklyn region. There the duo began to assemble the refurbished California Arrow, a dirigible that was flown earlier in the year by A. Leo Stevens. The Arrow, built by Tom Baldwin, was the first American-built successful airship. The huge ship was develop on July of 1904, just in time for the St. Louis World Fair in October. The Arrow’s first pilot and a key figure in the incredible life of Hamilton, Roy Knabenshue, was also in New York by the summer of 1905 to demostrate to a group of rail road entrepreneurs, the advantages of the airship in cargo ferrying.

At the same time, the venerable dirigible’s new owner, US Army Captain R. Lewis, wanted to make a name for himself using the Arrow as a crowd attracting mechanism. In the summer of 1905, flying machines were a big hit in many quarters along the eastern seaborne region. Jam packed stadiums were the norm every time a dirigible was present. This is the crowd Lewis wanted to reach. For this, he needed a pilot. His first choice was Stevens. But the former pilot was making so much money in the Manhattan area that he did not even consider the proposal. Enter Hamilton, the young and eager aviator promptly took on the challenge thet would usher his life into the spotlight. On a clear afternoon of September (around the 18th of the month) the Arrow took off from Coney Island’s old horse race track with Hamilton at the controls. It was the first of four short test flights that would culminate on his first true fly-by at the Trenton State Fair on the 29th.

On early October, Ludlow and Hamilton were back at work on their beloved ‘kites’. This time, utilizing a tugboat in the North River for propulsion. The experimentation phase lasted until the middle of November with no clear result. Afterwhich, both men parted ways for a brief period. Hamilton’s whereabouts after the 15th are a mystery. There were rumors he went back to Connecticut to do some parachuting. But no one can account for this. For his part, Ludlow was mostly involved in his law career and was not seen with Hamilton until the following year. What is known is that sometime around early January, the pair reunited and went hard at work on, what else, kites. By March, a more refined kite platform began to emerge. Unfortunately, Ludlow crash landed his kite on April 14th, badly hurting himself. He would never walk again, thus ending his direct involvement in the life of his young partner.

In June 1906, Knabenshue was looking to replace Lincoln Beachey as a pilot. Hamilton’s name came up on several answered conversations prompting Knabenshue to call him. Hamilton was thrilled with the idea of flying airships and quickly accepted without hesitation. The two and a half year association proved highly successful for both men. Among the many achievements Hamilton had while working for Knabenshue, was becoming the first person to make a powered flight into Canada (July). He also performed the first aerial operation in Iowa as well as in Oklahoma (May), where thousands of citizens showed up to see, for the first time, a man-made flying machine.

By the middle 1908, Hamilton had accumulated enough experience and financial resources to go track his own path. In May he bought a Lincoln Beachey-built airship. By June, the new platform was ready for performing. He did that with a series of flights along the Connecticut and New York shorelines between June 15th and July 21st. He did a couple of shows in October before embarking on to Japan.

On April 1909, he flew his beloved dirigible over the Ueno Park in downtown Tokyo. A remarkable feat that was soon overshadowed by Bleriot’s crossing of the English Channel. The amazing accomplishment marked the end of Hamilton’s exhibition days. From now on, the pursue of heavier-than-air machines would dominate his life. After arriving back in the States, the now 24-year old seeked the advice of the legendary Glenn Curtiss. When the two met in Chicago, Hamilton begged the more knowledgeable Curtiss to teach him the intricacies of man powered flight. That’s another story.

Air Power: The men, machines and ideas that revolutionized war, from Kitty Hawk to Gulf War II, Stephen Budiansky, Viking Books 2004

The U.S. Air Force, Editor Walter J. Boyne, Penguin Group 2003

United States Military Aircraft Since 1909, Peter M. Bowers and F.G. Swanborough, Putnam Books 1963

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

The Williams X-Jet

The Flying Pulpit, as it was nicknamed back in early devlopment was a small, light weight Vertical Take Off and Landing System (VTOL) devloped by Williams International. The Williams X-Jet was powered by a F107 Turbofan engine, obviously highly modified for this particular application.

The unit was designed to be operated by one sole individual. Steering of the aircraft involved leaning towards the desired location and then adjusting the speed accordingly. The Williams X-Jet was fast and could accelerate rapidly when required. It could stay aloft for up to 45 minutes and accomplished speeds of 60 mph. After the US Army evaluated the units in the early 80’s they were deemed to be inferior to the helicopters and other unmanned aircraft.

 

Williams X-Jet Video

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