Spitfire F Mk. IX, BS451, FY-V of No. 611 Squadron at Biggin Hill [Crown Copyright]Unlike the many brilliant British aero-engineers of the 1930s and ’40s, who were repeatedly thwarted by crusty officialdom, their German equivalents were lavishly funded and nurtured by both a determined state and a brutally efficient military …or so the myth goes. As we shall find out in ’10 things you didn’t know about World War II Warplanes’, the truth was rather different.Calum Douglas B.Eng M.Sc is a piston aero-engine history specialist, and author of The Secret Horsepower Race – WESTERN FRONT FIGHTER ENGINE DEVELOPMENTThe reason Germany missed out on the two-stage superchargerÂ
The Mk IX Spitfire, with its two-stage supercharged engine, is lauded for having rescued the RAF from the clutches of the Focke-Wulf 190. Given the new Spitfire’s effectiveness did the Focke-Wulf rapidly counter it with a similarly equipped fighter? No. Germany only fielded a couple of fighter types with two-stage superchargers and both entered service far later, very close to the end of the War. They were the Fw 190D-11 and Ta 152, powered by the Jumo 213E/F. The Jumo 213E had a system like the Merlin, but only appeared in tiny numbers a few months before the collapse of Germany. German failure to develop a two-stage supercharged fighter is widely regarded as one of their great technical failures in high-altitude flight. However, this was as much an organisational failure as anything else, as Daimler-Benz had been running two-stage supercharged DB601 engines since around 1936 in their test cells in Stuttgart Untertürkheim. Focke-Wulf master designer Kurt Tank told incredulous American engineers that the notion of a two-stage supercharged fighter had been quashed by German military bureaucrats before it could take full form. The Luftwaffe was regarded at the time as purely a tactical force, designed to support ground operations. They saw the ability of fighters to attain very high altitudes as an anathema to this strategic concept, and cancelled all such projects. They did have their own equivalent to the Spitfire Mk IX’s engine, but wasted the opportunity with sheer ineptitude.
2. Britain needed fuel from the US to survive?Â
Germany is well known for its successful synthetic aviation fuel programme in the Second World War, which created fuel from coal and hydrogen, mixed under high pressure and temperatures. However, Britain had embarked on a programme to do the same thing. This began as early as 1932 and received strong Air Ministry support from about 1936 onwards. Not as outlandish as it sounds, Britain was at the time the third largest producer of coal in the world, and could therefore, have waged war against Germany even if no fuel from America had ever arrived. When, later in the war it became imperative to increase the performance of fighters stationed in Britain to combat the German pulse-jet powered V1 flying bombs, it was the British synthetic fuel programme which helped yield ingredients for the 150 Grade fuel that was needed. This fuel was also made in the U.S.A., but the process was pioneered at I.C.I. Billingham in the laboratory of Ronald Holroyd.
3. Radio gagger
After the ascension of Nazis into power, all amateur radio activity and associated clubs and component development was banned. The paranoia of the Nazi state couldn’t allow the thought of young Germans freely communicating with long distance HAM radio, or listening to remote foreign broadcasting stations. This had a catastrophic impact on German radar and electronic warfare development a decade later. Dr Wolfgang Martini, in charge of all German radio technological development was fired by Göring not long after Martini admitted that he had no countermeasures to British jamming devices. Erhard Milch dryly reminded Göring that having no enthusiastic young radio fanatics to help had likely been a direct result of their earlier policy on banning youth radio.
Martini time
Not long before this meeting, on 8th October 1943 Göring had also harangued Martini on why they had not been able to shoot down more de Havilland Mosquitos, which were now roaming with almost complete impunity over all of Germany day and night. Martini had reported that their radar was struggling to get a reliable echo return on the Mosquito, due in part to its very high speed and also its primarily wooden construction.
Göring, infuriated with the lack of technical prowess, told Martini:
“Er hat Genie, und wir haben Dösköppe.â€
(“They [the English] have the geniuses and we have bone-heads.â€)
The first ‘stealthy’ intruder
While a popular documentary was made about the German Horten jet-fighters being the first stealth aircraft, in fact the best real evidence for a high speed intruder aircraft which (probably inadvertently) had a very small radar signature was the British Mosquito.
Horten Ho 29
4. The lost ListÂ
Hans List, was probably the most renowned piston engine development scientist in Germany in the Second World War. In Europe he was second only to Sir Harry Ricardo in stature. Whilst Ricardo was busy helping Rolls-Royce develop a two-stroke engine to replace the Merlin in the Spitfire, Dr List squandered much of his time on bizarrely speculative projects, such as working out how to increase the performance of the enemy’s Packard-Merlin engine. Ostensibly this project (which must have absorbed the work of his laboratory for several months) was to provide technical intelligence predictions to the German designers by judging what technical steps the British might take in their own development methods. However, there is a strong case that the entire project was an unbelievable waste of the talents of the great Dr List.
Not long after the war, List started the engine development consultancy AVL, which remains the largest privately owned engine development firm in the world today. This kind of abysmally poor usage of German talent was very representative of the gigantic failure to leverage science by the Nazis in the Second World War. Whilst they are acknowledged for having started the jet, rocket and space race, this appears to have been the fruits of a totally unbalanced research programme, which required the resources of the Allies to make full use of post-war.
Figure 2: Translated version of Dr List’s report on the Merlin.
5. Why did the Germans really put a german engine on a Spitfire?Â
The now well-known ‘MesserSpit‘ or ‘German Spitfire’ was a captured Spitfire Vb fitted with a Daimler-Benz DB605 engine. The re-engining largely took place to settle a feud between the head of Daimler-Benz Fritz Nallinger, and Professor Willy Messerschmitt.
Messerschmitt, furious with being blamed for the poor performance of German fighters compared to the latest Allied types in 1943, told Erhard Milch that this was no surprise to him, because he was forced to fit water radiators twice the size of those the Spitfire used, per horsepower delivered. Erhard Milch, astonished, turned to the head of German Engine Development Wolfram Eisenlohr and asked him:
“How have our designers not noticed this?â€
Germany, had failed to develop high-pressure-high-temperature water cooling. This meant that their radiators had to be significantly larger in section than the Allied fighters used, adding to their drag values. They estimated this was costing German fighters at least 15mph in top speed, enough to turn a performance edge into mere equality.
6. Speer’s fake miracleÂ
Albert Speer is credited with the miracle of German fighter production in 1944, where vast numbers of fighters were built. However when Allied investigators interrogated Speer and started adding up the numbers in his departments production figures they discovered an incredible secret. Eight thousand German single engine fighters in the ledgers, didn’t exist. Further investigation revealed that although Speer had managed to dramatically increase the number of fighters produced, he had also cooked the books to gain favour with Hitler. American engineers discovered that Speer had done it by having all aircraft being repaired, or refitted re-allocated to the ‘new aircraft’ ledger. Thus, giving a dramatically over inflated impression of his achievements. That was not all, German engine designers told Allied engineers that the impressive final boost levels released by Daimler for the Bf 109 of +2.1 and even +2.3 atmospheres manifold pressure, where in fact needed just to get the 109 to meet its basic service specifications. Speer’s ‘miracle’ had created fighters of such incredibly poor build quality that the Daimler-Benz engine designers told the Allies that the fighters reaching the front line were on average an incredible 25mph slower than their claimed performance (over 6%). The allies had faced hordes of ‘ghost fighters’, those which were not figments of Speers ledgers were in performance terms, shadows of their potential.
7. Sexing down the ‘Butcher Bird’
The Fw 190 was judged to be such a serious threat when it arrived, that the Chief of Air Staff, Sir Charles Portal wrote to Churchill on the matter. The archives show that he rewrote the letter twice in March 1942 before sending it, each successive letter putting the threat across in more nuanced language than the last. The first read: “adverse casualty rateâ€, the second version scored out this line and replaced it with “unfavourable balance†and finally “unfavourable factorâ€.
Figure 3: One of the draft letters Portal prepared for Churchill.
8. Why the chaos?Â
There is strong evidence to suggest that German aviation production planning was thrown into the ruinously bad state of organisation which plagued it during the Second World War as early as 1936. One of Germany’s most renowned aviation designers Dr Robert Lusser (who had worked for Messerschmitt and Heinkel) wrote to the Secretary of State for Air, Erhard Milch on 15th January 1942 to inform him that German aviation was being destroyed by the application of badly thought out plans to accelerate production of new types.
Figure 4: Dr Robert Lusser, German aviation designer.
Lusser explained how up to 1936, the path from aviation development to mass production had taken (in planning) at least 4 years. This began with design, then testing, production simplifications and prototype building over the course of the middle 2 years, with mass production beginning in the 3rd year.
Support Hush-Kit with our high quality aviation themed merchandise hereFigure 5: Lusser`s chart of how production was planned up until 1936 in Germany.
At a certain stage, due to the pressures from above, planning had attempted to be ‘compressed’ by one year, to allow mass production (Gross Serie) to begin after just two years. This involved both testing (Erprobung), production simplifications (Serieneinfachung) and prototype build (Null-Serie) all occurring at once, over the course of just one year.
To make this (in theory) a possibility, demands were also made that design and testing resources might have to be drafted in from other firms who were being under utilized in some particular capacity at the time.
Figure 6: The same chart modified to show how it was altered post-1936.
The process was in fact, according to Lusser, a disaster. It resulted in several aircraft of appalling quality being made, and the changes needed to rectify the faults ended up putting on far more time than would have been taken to just stick to the original, (proven) time plan.
Lusser, regarding these compressed plans told Milch:
“Diese Glaube hat sich als eine schwere illusion!”
(“These beliefs [that production can be accelerated] are nothing more than a fantasy!â€)
9. Willy’s Frölich?
The Messerschmitt Me 210, the much-needed replacement for the ageing Me 110 was a disaster which tarnished Professor Messerschmitt’s reputation for decades and resulted in him temporarily being demoted. However, it appears from archive records of interrogations carried out in 1945 of German aviation designers that it may not have been his fault.
According to British Technical Intelligence files on the Me 210, a series of problems occurred, none of which were instigated by the professor himself.
It turned out that in the concept phase, the German Air Ministry (the RLM) told Messerschmitt that a team of designers from the Arado firm would be drafted in to the Messerschmitt offices to design the wings and tail section. This team was led by Arado engineers Rethel and Frölich. There was a fundamental disagreement about the ideal concept to take, but the RLM insisted that the Arado engineer’s idea was to be followed, and the original twin-fin tail layout was rejected. If that were not enough, for reasons of expediting the development timeline the RLM ordered that the drawings were to bypass the manufacturing department (fertigungsbüro).
When the aircraft was tested, it displayed appalling aerodynamic instability and frightening structural failures (the wings sometimes broke off at about 2/3 of the distance from the wing-root). It killed many pilots and was branded a dangerous menace.
Two hundred had been made when production was stopped whilst the errors were fixed. The tail was modified five times before it had been enlarged enough to induce stability. This never worked very well, and only when the original specifications were re-issued as the Me 410 was the fighter a success. By the time that occurred, the design was nowhere near as useful as it would have been had it been in service two or three years prior.
Messerschmitt had fallen victim to RLM incompetence and demonstrated exactly why Lusser had been right when he wrote to Milch.
10. Teacher’s petsÂ
German technical intelligence spent its time producing wonderfully artistic but useless reports on British aircraft development possibilities, whist the British produced simple projections on possible German developments on a single sheet of paper with a typewriter and some hand-drawn arrows.
Figure 7: Typical British Intelligence chart showing projections for the Bf 109 development.
The German reports were produced by Dietrich Schwenke, who was the head of German aviation technical intelligence. What follows is a page showing the equivalent projections on possible British developments with the Spitfire. This was part of a mammoth 60-odd page report, the illustrations for which must have taken weeks to prepare.
Figure 8: One of the well-illustrated pages from Schwenke’s huge pamphlet on Allied aviation developments
We can conclude from this only that the German report was not written to provide a timely and useful memo for German engineers, but was written to show superiors an impressive looking publication to convince them what a thorough job they were doing. It would have taken so long to prepare that by the time it was released much of the utility of the information was lost.
This concentration of appearance over substance is representative of much of the failure which resulted in the German defeat in the air over Germany in 1943 and 1944.
In conclusion, it was not in fact the Allied engineer who struggled against all odds to succeed but the German. Whist Allied policies and choices are full of incompetence and failure, the German story simply has even more disastrous strategic errors, and so reached the event horizon of defeat.
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From the cocaine, blood and flying scarves of World War One dogfighting to the dark arts of modern air combat, here is an enthralling ode to these brutally exciting killing machines.
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Oasis, The Godfather, Champagne, many things in life are over-rated. Popular opinion will hold that they’re the outstanding examples of their kind, but popular opinion is merely the collective braying of the uneducated hordes. To elevate you above the uneducated horde the following list is ten of the most over-rated military aircraft, allowing you to display a veneer of sophistication when they crop up in conversation. To be clear most of these aircraft aren’t bad, generally they’ve at least displayed some level of basic competence, but this has been over-inflated in the popular imagination to an unwarranted degree. The Bruce Springsteen of aviation if you will.
To avoid filling the complete article with flights of fancy cancelled projects don’t count. This saves you the reader from my multi-volume rant on the TSR.2 having fewer flying hours than the X-35 did when it was selected to be the Joint Strike Fighter. It’s also pretty much all combat aircraft as it’s hard to think of any over-rated cargo haulers. Or helicopters. Or Blackburn products.
National chauvinism frequently plays a part in aircraft, or anything else, being overrated. For this reason, the list would appear to be biased against British aircraft, because those are the ones the author has most often heard being praised while thinking, ‘steady on, they aren’t that good’. Plus let’s face it, most other countries’ aircraft are average at best.
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Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor ‘Pointless Craptor’Â
Perfect for everything except reality
The F-22 is an impressive aircraft to be sure, fast, extremely agile, and almost invisible to radar. Slightly short on range compared to some other modern military aircraft and more expensive than even the F-35 it is none the less the fighter to beat. It’s not however without its problems. Early Raptors appeared to have been inspired by HAL from 2001, making multiple attempts on their own pilot’s lives which lead to a four-month grounding while the USAF tried to resolve the issues. These were eventually traced to a faulty g-suit inflation system and an erratic onboard oxygen generating system.
The small matter of attempted pilotcide [1] out of the way you’re still left with helicopter levels of maintenance activity, each aircraft having to undergo a three-week work package every 300 flying hours, primarily due to the stealth coating. There’s also the issue of a relatively small fleet size of around 180 aircraft due to the early programme cancellation. Now to your average European air force that sounds like excessive largesse, but if you’re trying to maintain a global presence it barely scratches the surface.
Perhaps more critically the F-22 seems wholly unsuited to the wars the USA has spent most of the century fighting. Yes, they have been employed dropping the occasional JDAM on Syria, and have apparently conducted Close Air Support which makes criticism of the F-35 conducting the role look wholly misplaced. But is a $150 million air superiority fighter really the best tool for the job or was that an attempt to justify its existence. Because at ~$60,000 per flying hour you could have employed 3 A-10s to do the same thing.
Don’t say – The ultimate manned fighter.
Do say – Overkill when you’ve decided to spend the last twenty years dropping bombs on people without an air force.
[1] If we use it enough in print the OED have to make it a word, work with me.
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McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II
Hush-Kit’s top Cold War Carrier Combat Aircraft was the F-4 Phantom, probably the first jet aircraft to succeed at being multi-role and so good the USAF swallowed its pride and brought a few. Thousand. Contrary to popular opinion, and some dialogue in Top Gun, it also achieved a respectable kill-ratio in the Vietnam War against smaller more agile opponents. It wasn’t however without its problems.
Designed as a missile armed all weather interceptor this proved to be overly ambitious when put to the test in South East Asia, the performance of the early Sidewinder and Sparrow missiles being sub-optimal. Initially this led to crews’ ripple firing missiles in an attempt to gain a hit, foreshadowing the author’s attempts to stay alive in DCS World. But with the close in fighting that developed due to the rules of engagement in force even this wasn’t guaranteed to work. Indeed, it was not uncommon for a Phantom to find itself too close to the enemy to fire even the short-ranged IR seeking missiles. This led initially to the fitting of gun pods, the accuracy of which was variable especially when fitted to aircraft subject to catapult launches. Ultimately an internal gun was fitted on the Air Force’s aircraft from the E model onwards. A solution that required the shuffling around of internal components to maintain the centre of gravity and the deletion of the ram air turbine that supplied hydraulic pressure in the event of engine failures.
To add to the woes over Vietnam the J79 engines used by the Phantom produce copious amounts of black smoke, providing a convenient pointer towards the aircraft for any enemy fighters or anti-aircraft batteries. Still at least it only took two decades to fix that issue with the J79-10A fitted to the F-4S in 1977. Two years after the end of the war in Vietnam. Having two of the J-79s also meant the ‘Toom drank like a furloughed single man during lock-down, getting through about 5 times as much fuel as a Harrier or Corsair just to get airborne.
Having just about got the F-4 sorted the world’s air forces started replacing it as newer designs were introduced that fixed its various short-comings. Or in the case of the RN fitted on their ships. Despite this the Phantom actually remains in service with a variety of air arms in 2020, 60 years after the first USN squadron formed. Nominally Iran, Japan, South Korea, Greece, and Turkey are still operating McDonnell Douglas finest. The last two presumably refusing to retire their aircraft until the other does.
The Phantom was a good aircraft at its peak although inevitably compromised when compared to more specialist airframes such as the A-6 or F-8. But this peak was broadly the late 60s through to the early 80s. For the other two-thirds of its life it’s either been struggling through development woes or stumbling around in the early hours trying to find the toilet as bladder control starts to become an issue.
Don’t Say – Confusingly mixed messaging from the clowns at Hush Kit.
Do Say – Good for its time, but increasingly out classed during the latter four decades of its service.
For the younger reader it may be hard to imagine the degree of paranoia and secrecy that permeated the Cold War. The rivals on either side of the iron curtain were equally desperate to find out what their opposition were building while guarding their own secrets. Aircraft performance had to be estimated from looking at reconnaissance photos and figuring out what the design was supposed to achieve. If you weren’t there it was basically like Firefox and The Hunt for Red October but with better accents.
Consequently, when the first images of what was to become the MiG-25 appeared there was much scratching of heads. To Western thinking, influenced by Col John Boyd’s energy manoeuvrability theory, the large wing and monstrous engines were optimised for dogfighting. This led to significant increases in the performance requirements of what would become the F-15 which had previously assumed the MiG-23 was the aircraft to beat. [2]
In reality the wing was sized to lift what was a very heavy aircraft, being made of stainless steel rather than aluminium alloy like pretty much everything else. Why stainless steel? Because the Foxbat was intended to intercept the, ultimately cancelled, B-70 Valkyrie bomber which would operate at Mach 3. Matching these speeds would heat the airframe to around 300°C at which point aluminium tends to lose structural integrity. Titanium presumably not being used due to a desire to have an aircraft that could be maintained by conscripts. A problem the similarly speedy SR-71 didn’t have allowing it to be built from the metal, ironically sourced from Russia. The speed requirement also drove what is a relatively thin wing profile to minimise drag, increasing take-off and landing speeds to the extent it has a 4,500’ take-off run. In contrast to RAF practice of the time the Soviets required some degree of endurance from its aircraft, consequently ~70% of the internal volume is given over to fuel. Which to limited what other equipment could be crammed in there.
Much of this was revealed to the Capitalist Running Dogs of the West when Lieutenant Belenko used one to take a day trip from Vladivostok to Hakodate Air Base in Japan in 1976. While Belenko was whisked away to a life of luxury and questioning in the USA technicians took apart the MiG to discover its secrets. They then boxed it up and returned it to the Soviets in crates, who gave the Japanese a bill of $10 million for damage to the aircraft. The Japanese countered with $40,000 of charges for shipping costs, which makes an Amazon Prime subscription seem good value.
By this point though the damage had been done, the F-15 was entering service designed to counter abilities that didn’t exist.
(still it is the only MiG with a teenfighter kill)
Don’t say – The fastest fighter in the world.
Do say – Made into a bogey man by the USA to justify the F-15’s performance requirements.
[2] In something of a pattern the MiG-23 was also considered by Western powers to be more impressive than it really was.
Heinkel He 113
It’s fair to say the first half of 1940 hadn’t gone well for Britain and her allies, having lost the Battles of Norway and France everything relied on winning the upcoming home match to stay in the championship. Worryingly for Fighter Command who would bear the brunt of the upcoming fighting they’d only just held their own against the Luftwaffe’s current fighters the Bf109 and Bf110. It was obvious from intelligence reports that the far superior He-113 would be a completely different proposition. With a top speed of 390mph some 35mph faster than the Spitfire and a fuel injected engine allowing negative g flight the Super Jaegar would be able to run rings around the RAF’s best. Perhaps more worryingly where the British aircraft were armed with eight, or sometimes twelve, .303 calibre machine guns photos indicated the Germans had managed to incorporate three 20-mm cannon into their fighter. For those not up on the technicalities of fighter weaponry machine-guns fire inert lumps of lead, 0.303 inches in diameter in this case. Cannon on the other hand fire mini projectiles that incorporate explosives that detonate on contact, which makes much more of a mess. The Allies were working on arming their aircraft with cannon, but they wouldn’t start to see wide-spread adoption until the following year due to difficulties developing them and the performance hit due to their greater mass.
Everything then indicated the He 113 was going to be a tough customer and so it would prove. The first encounter seems to have been while Hurricanes were covering the Dunkirk evacuation when they were bounced by the Super Fighters while themselves preparing to attack a group of He 111 bombers. This pattern would repeat itself throughout the subsequent rather predictably named Battle of Britain, flights of He 113 would strike from high level just as the attacking fighters were about to engage bombers. Later they would use their great speed to carry out lightning raids on ground targets, the first on 18 August when they destroyed a Hurricane and seven Spitfires at RAF Manston for no losses. Indeed, throughout the battle there were no confirmed kills of the He 113 only a handful of probables. The only relief for the Allies was that the Germans seemed to have only limited numbers of the aircraft available, it was speculated due to difficulties operating what was obviously a highly advanced aircraft from muddy fields in France.
In reality it was because they hadn’t actually built any He 113s. The whole thing was a ruse by Nazi head of propaganda Joseph Goebbels and the Luftwaffe using repainted He 100 prototypes to convince their enemies they were far ahead of them in aircraft development. The He 100 had set a world air speed record shortly before the war so was a plausible basis for a new fighter but for a variety of reasons hadn’t been selected as such by the Luftwaffe. The 113 designation was chosen in an attempt to play up to the stereotypical image of German methodical predictability, being a logical follow on to the He 112 that had seen limited service. That the ruse worked can be demonstrated by the willingness of allied pilots to report higher flying faster aircraft as He 113, when in reality they’d just been Bf 109s using a height advantage to gain speed. More crucially as the Super Fighter’s reputation grew, they would become increasingly wary of engaging any formation they mistakenly identified as consisting of them.
To say the He 113 was over-rated is probably under-stating things, fear of its ability allegedly factoring in Dowding’s decision not to deploy Spitfires to France. When in reality it was a prototype cosplaying as an end of level baddy.
Don’t say – What?
Do Say – The kind of information warfare Alistair Campbell would be proud of.
Avro Vulcan ‘Hero of Operation Slack Fuck’
Say V-Bombers and if you’re basic your first thought is the Avro Vulcan and why not, it’s a moderately attractive cranked delta with four Olympus engines. Its greatest claim to fame is of course the Black Buck raids during the Falklands Conflict which saw pretty much the entire surviving V-Force execute possibly the most complicated refuelling plan in history to hit a runway. With a bomb. Followed shortly after by the retirement of most of the Vulcan fleet at the end of the year. Which is the kind of thing someone should write a book about.
So, job done, Vulcan, greatest V-bomber, if not strategic bomber, of all time, right? Well no frankly. It was certainly in the top three V bombers beating the Short Sperrin by entering service, and the Vickers Valiant by not falling apart after ten years of pootling around the sky. Although to be fair that did have the distinction of actually dropping a nuclear bomb and beat the Vulcan to conventional bombing missions by 26 years during the Suez Crisis. They managed more than one hit on the runway as well.
Still if you’re a Top Trumps kind of aircraft fan it could at least carry the same bomb load as the Valiant slightly faster. It fails utterly in comparison to the other V-bomber though. The Victor could carry 14 more 1000lb bombs than its sisters in the V-Force for a total of 35,0000lbs. Or half a B-52’s payload. It could also go further and in a shallow dive break the sound barrier.
The only real problem with the Victor was the manufacturer, Handley Page’s chairman being less keen on the government’s ideas for manufacturer consolidation than they were. That combined with potential issues fitting the Skybolt missile meant only a handful of Victor B2s were ordered compared to an extravagance of Vulcans. Consequently, when Skybolt was cancelled the greater numbers of Vulcans meant they were a shoe in for the bomber role while the Victors became tankers.
Not a bad aircraft overall, the Vulcan’s reputation today seems to rest on its role in Black Buck rather than its overall capability. Plus it’s in Thunderball which can’t have hurt.
Don’t say – A triumph of British design and engineering.
Do Say – The Victor could carry more further, what else do you want in a bomber?
Mitsubishi A6M Zero ‘
To say that the Mitsubishi Zero came as an unpleasant surprise to the Allied forces during December 1941 would be a bit of an understatement. Nimble, fast, and long ranged it was everything you’d want in a carrier fighter. Okay slightly more armour and radio aids would be nice, but their absence didn’t stop it racking up an impressive kill rate during the sudden expansion of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere into the Indian and Pacific oceans. During raids on the only ‘civilised’ bit of Northern Australia, Darwin, they easily dealt with the Spitfire Vs that had been rushed there for its defence. This despite the defenders being flown by experienced Battle of Britain veterans.
The evidence for the Zero’s reputation seems pretty clear-cut then, cutting a swathe before it even when opposed by the ‘greatest fighter of all time’ flown by the best of the best. Or at least the best of the RAF. Mitsubishi had obviously created some sort of uber-fighter, probably either with the direct help of the Germans, or inspired by an obscure Gloster design that never got ordered. [3] Because the alternative would be that the Zero was an average fighter with strengths and weaknesses and the Japanese were producing better pilots than the Allies. Which would be incredibly inconvenient given all the intelligence assessments and propaganda that had asserted the Japanese were producing inferior knock-offs of Western aircraft and were themselves physically inferior. Particularly inconvenient if you’d then based your defence policy on those assumptions and left a variety of obsolete aircraft to defend your key outpost in the region. Still at least the loss of Singapore put an end to any conceit of racial superiority in the British populace.
The Zero wasn’t a bad aircraft, it was very manoeuvrable, had decent armament, and had excellent low-speed handling. It wasn’t however particularly fast, and its critical altitude, where the supercharger can no longer compensate for the depredation of altitude on engine performance, was a relatively low 16,000’. Useful for naval air combat but much lower than the Spitfire’s and other fighters optimised for the European theatre. Its main advantage was in the cockpit where the pilots sat, after undergoing what at the time was the longest training course in the world. This allowed them to make the most of their aircraft and drag allied pilots into combat on their terms. Meanwhile the Australian Spitfire pilots insisted on using tactics that wouldn’t have cut the mustard in Europe by getting into turning fights with one of the few aircraft that could out-turn them. Indeed, the score could probably have been reversed if they’d used high speed dives to make slashing attacks on the Zeros before climbing away to position for a follow up.
As a fighter the Zero was a good aircraft, however, to compensate for the shocking performance of the Allies against what they’d been told was an inferior enemy it had to become a great one.
Don’t say – It swept a wave of terror across the Pacific.
Do say – Made into a bogey man by the Allies to cover-up their pre-war intelligence failings.
[3] The Gloster F5/34, Google it, it’s pretty similar.
Gloster F5/34
Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress ‘Captain mediocre’Â
Ask the average man in the street to name a WW2 USAAF bomber and they’ll probably ask you to stand two meters away and put a face mask on. Repeat the experiment enough times however and you’ll soon realise the Flying Fortress is probably the most famous American bomber of WW2. Capable of delivering 4,500lbs of high explosives to Berlin while fighting off hordes of Fw 190s and Bf 109s with an ever-increasing battery of .50 cal machine guns the B-17 played a major contribution to attempts to flatten Germany into submission.
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Impressive as that sounds it was also broadly what the Mosquito could do on half the engines, only two crew, and about 130mph faster. Meanwhile the USAAF’s other heavy the B-24 Liberator could fly further, faster, with more. It was also the most produced bomber in history, with 18,482 to the B-17s mere 12,731. [4]
So why the love for what was at best the equal of its peers? Mostly good PR. Even before the USA was bombed into entering the war against fascism the B-17 was getting publicity for its work with the RAF. Ironically mostly with Coastal Command the early models being considered unsuitable for its primary role after initial trials over occupied Germany had achieved at best mixed results. With the late entrants to the war doing their best to play catch-up the USAAF were keen to push the message that they were taking the fight deep into Nazi Germany.
Until mid-43 this meant lots of reports of Flying Fortresses, cementing its place in the public’s heart before the B-24 had got down to business. If this wasn’t enough just as the Liberator was deploying in May ’43 the first B-17 completed a tour of 25 missions, the following week the Memphis Belle did to a blitz of publicity including the 1944 release of a documentary broadly documenting their final mission. In a further insult to, well everyone, the 1990 film Memphis Belle fictionalised the making of the documentary, added to the profile of the B-17, and gave Harry Connick Jr an acting career.
Essentially then the Flying Fortress was an alright bomber with a great PR department. The Adam Sandler of strategic bombing. Seriously how is he still getting roles?
Don’t say – The Bomber that won the war.
Do say – The Liberator did the work the B-17 got the glory.
[4] The Ju-88 making second place with 15,183 built, fact-fans.
English Electric Lightning ‘Exciting & useless’
Continuing the RAF’s love affair with short ranged aircraft the Lightning was designed to defend V-Force airfields long enough for the bombers to get airborne. This led to an aircraft with a phenomenal rate of climb, impressive top speed, and for the time, 1959, cutting edge weapons system. Contrary to claims by Lockheed-Martin about the F-22 it was also the first aircraft to be able to super-cruise. All things that bring aviation enthusiasts of a certain age to a near priapism.
The Lightning was very impressive in its niche, and if it had stuck at being a short-range point interceptor it would have been great. But awkwardly that role didn’t last for long the nuclear deterrent role going to the navy’s Polaris submarines in 1968 removing the strategic requirement to defend the V Force airfields. Meanwhile the air defence requirement changed to intercepting aircraft over the North Sea and GIUK gap. [5] More awkwardly thanks to the Sandys’ review passing off savage cuts as strategic long-term planning, there were no successors to the Lightning in the offing, manned aircraft being considered obsolete.
This left the Lightning by default as the RAF’s best choice of aircraft for the role, the alternative being the Javelin possibly the only all-weather fighter with a restriction on flying in cloud. However even with an increased fuel load in a gradually expanding pot belly the Lightning would be heavily reliant on tanker support. The ultimate F.6 model only had a combat range of around 135nm for a supersonic intercept. Perhaps less usefully there doesn’t seem to have been anything in the way of an effort to increase the Lightning’s armament, the F.1 entering service with two heat seeking missiles and two internal 30mm cannon, and the F.6 leaving service with two heat-seeking missiles and two 30-mm cannon. This wasn’t necessarily an issue when the aircraft was intended for a last-ditch defence of the UK’s airfields to allow the deterrent to get away. Operating over the North Sea to hold off the advancing Soviet hordes it would seem to be more of an issue. Hence 43 Squadron forming on surplus Royal Navy Phantom FG.1s in 1970 to take on some of the air defence burden solving the range and payload problems simultaneously. Although to be fair that was a far more advanced aircraft having first entered service 12 months after the Lightning.
As an air show performer and rocket emulator the Lightning was fantastic, but that’s not what its actual role was.
Don’t say – A triumph of British design and engineering.
Do say – Woefully under-armed, unless the Soviets were planning on invading one at a time.
[5] For the younger reader the GIUK gap is the area between Greenland, Iceland, and the UK through which the Soviet Navy would make their way to the North Atlantic.
Harrier ‘Vectored trust’
The 1960s were a time of great experimentation as the world’s aircraft manufacturers attempted to produce viable VSTOL aircraft. British aviation enthusiasts take a considerable degree of pride in the emergence of the Harrier as the only successful aircraft from this period of sometimes crazed tinkering. No, the Yak-38 Forger doesn’t count as successful. This pride is enhanced by its ability to inflict wide area tinnitus via air show performances.
You do though have to question whether it was all worth it. The genius of the Harrier was doing away with a separate lift engine by using the front stage of a turbofan to provide thrust forward of the centre of gravity. The hot stage does the same aft of it, a bit of shuffling around with the aircraft’s mass and voila you can hover. It does mean you need a turbofan with a reasonable bypass ratio though which is the sort of thing you normally see on a business jet. It also makes engine maintenance something of a challenge, the wing having to come off if you want to change it. Plus, the usual problem of any powered lift aircraft using full thrust for a vertical landing increasing the fatigue and vibration load, decreasing airframe life.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and it’s notable that the Royal Air Force was the only land-based operator of the Harrier. All the other Harrier variants were sold to people who wanted to fly from ships, the USMC, the Spanish Navy, the Royal Navy, the Italian Navy, etc. Indeed, the major operation the RAF’s second-generation Harriers were involved with was Afghanistan. Where their VSTOL capability was well used operating from a runway only otherwise suitable for, checks notes, Tornadoes.
Another area of misplaced pride in the Harrier is the assumption it’s somehow better than the F-35 because it doesn’t have a lift fan and the UK ‘should have just made a better Harrier rather than wasting money on the F-35’. Which overlooks the fact the Harrier’s lift fan is essentially the first stage of the Pegasus, is always engaged, and creates an increasing amount of intake drag as you approach Mach 1. Never mind that for a turbofan producing a similar level of thrust to the F-35’s engine you’d be looking at something that’s usually hung off an A320. Good luck building a fighter around that. The Pegasus configuration anyway makes for some awkward packaging decisions when designing your aircraft, look at the P. 1214 to see some of the work rounds needed to use it on an Advanced STOVL project.
The Harrier then, a really successful technology demonstrator that probably degraded the UK’s overall defence capability. Still handy if you’re going to cheap out on your aircraft carrier.
Don’t say – A triumph of British design and engineering.
Do say – Pardon? I can’t hear you over the sound of the Harrier.
Supermarine Spitfire
If you’re British and aren’t particularly interested in aircraft the Spitfire is your favourite. It’s probably also what you call every camouflaged aeroplane with a propeller that you see. This helps the aviation connoisseur avoid you.
Not that the Spitfire was a bad aircraft, as a short-range interceptor it was exactly the sort of thing you’d want if say you were planning on defending an island against an aerial onslaught. Once that unpleasantness is out of the way however you really need something with more range. Despite Photo-Reconnaissance Units and the USAAF proving you could usefully cram more fuel into the Spitfire, almost equalling the range of the Mustang, the RAF proved resistant to the idea. This made it difficult providing an escort to any missions going further than say the beaches of Pas-de-Calais.
Nor did this limited range gain the Spitfire much in the way of performance, with broadly similar Merlin installations the P-51C was 7% faster than the Spitfire MkIX with 10% better fuel consumption, thanks to a more aerodynamic form. This despite the Mustang being 20% heavier. The Spitfire was faster climbing, which did at least let it spend its limited time airborne at a decent altitude.
Long range escort not being an option attempts were also made at dive-bombing, where the Spitfire would build up speed too quickly. This would have been less of a problem if it couldn’t lead to the ailerons detaching if unchecked by the pilot. The light build of the aircraft also left it able to only carry half the bomb load of its contemporaries, 1000lbs to the P-51 and P-47’s 2000lbs.
But at least it was unrivalled in air-to-air combat. Apart from say against the Zero, or when operated by the Soviets who relegated it to the rear with the PVO’s air defence forces, favouring the Bell Airacobra for the VVS busy engaging the Luftwaffe over the battlefield. That’s right they preferred the Airacobra, something virtually no one has heard of, to the Spitfire.
The less said of the attempts to make the Spitfire seaworthy the better, suffice to say the undercarriage was never really up to the job even with multiple upgrades. By the time it got to the Korean War the Seafire was so stretching the original design that the fuselage was wrinkling from conducting deck landings. Which is a bit of a design flaw in a carrier aircraft.
The Battle of Britain gave the Spitfire great PR, this has overshadowed its later perfectly average performance.
Don’t say – A triumph of British design and engineering.
Do say – The sort of dead horse flogging that saw the original Mini in production for 40 years.
Bing Chandler is a former Lynx Observer and current Wildcat Air Safety Officer. If you want a Sea Vixen t-shirt he can fix you up.
Don’t say – Deliberately contentious waffle, a Pound Land Clarkson.
Do say – Thought provoking and insightful, the thinking woman’s Brad Pitt.
This book can only happen with your support. Preorder your copy today here.
From the cocaine, blood and flying scarves of World War One dogfighting to the dark arts of modern air combat, here is an enthralling ode to these brutally exciting killing machines.
The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes is a beautifully designed, highly visual, collection of the best articles from the fascinating world of military aviation –hand-picked from the highly acclaimed Hush-kit online magazine (and mixed with a heavy punch of new exclusive material). It is packed with a feast of material, ranging from interviews with fighter pilots (including the English Electric Lightning, stealthy F-35B and Mach 3 MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’), to wicked satire, expert historical analysis, top 10s and all manner of things aeronautical, from the site described as:
“the thinking-man’s Top Gear… but for planesâ€.
The solid well-researched information about aeroplanes is brilliantly combined with an irreverent attitude and real insight into the dangerous romantic world of combat aircraft.
FEATURING
Interviews with pilots of the F-14 Tomcat, Mirage, Typhoon, MiG-25, MiG-27, English Electric Lighting, Harrier, F-15, B-52 and many more.
Engaging Top (and bottom) 10s including: Greatest fighter aircraft of World War II, Worst British aircraft, Worst Soviet aircraft and many more insanely specific ones.
Expert analysis of weapons, tactics and technology.
A look into art and culture’s love affair with the aeroplane.
Bizarre moments in aviation history.
Fascinating insights into exceptionally obscure warplanes.
The book will be a stunning object: an essential addition to the library of anyone with even a passing interest in the high-flying world of warplanes, and featuring first-rate photography and a wealth of new world-class illustrations.
The most beautiful machines in sporting history were the unforgiving brutes designed to win the Schneider Cup for seaplane racing. Dangerous, glamorous and with international pride at stake, the racers were fire-breathing monsters operating at the absolute limits of what was technologically possible. In the ten years from 1921, the Schneider record speed doubled, from 205mph to 470mph. The final figure of 470mph was also a staggering ten times faster than the first race winner of 1913. The world of racing seaplanes is a very limited one so when I was asked to put together a piece about the top 10, the first thing I did was bend the rules and include flying boats. Even so, this really only leaves Schneider Trophy (more properly ‘Schneider Cup’) contestants, with an oddball excursion thrown in for variety. First held in 1913, Schneider’s intent for his eponymous trophy was that it should encourage the development of reliable, safe, waterborne aircraft. This being seen as a more practical proposition in those early days of sparsely distributed random muddy airstrips for land-borne planes. The First World War arrived a year later immediately rendered the concept anachronistic, with surviving members of the air forces emerging from those dark days educated with all they needed for setting up a more formal land based aviation network, equipped by an industry that had developed from inspired geniuses and lunatics into fully mature and generally competent businesses. However, the Schneider Trophy carried on, and it developed into an arena for government funded racers. It was finally won in perpetuity by Great Britain in 1931. The selection of aircraft for this list could have simply been made based on the number of wins and increase in performance over previous winners, but where’s the fun in that? Instead I have made my selection based on historical significance, success, flair and aesthetics. 10. Savoia S21Â
This is a fictional aircraft but please bear with me. Porco Rosso is a film from that doyen of anime, Studio Ghibli, and although an animated fairytale of sorts it is multi-layered and well regarded by those who know about this sort of thing. The plot is based around 1930s ‘air pirates’ in a pseudo-Mediterranean setting with some of the aircraft being clearly based on Schneider Trophy competitors (in particular those of the two main protagonists). There are fictional aspects to suit the storyline but, even so, the aircraft maintain a close visual relationship to the source material. Porco Rosso’s S21 is obviously inspired by the Macchi M33 of 1924 and arch villain Donald Curtis flies a Curtiss R2C-2. As the hero’s mount it has to be the ‘S21’ that gets the vote for inclusion here. This film introduces this extremely appealing subject to a wider audience in a colourful and entertaining way. It’s clear that whoever drew these has a real love of the aircraft and as such it cannot help but encourage interest in this period of aviation history, and the Schneider Trophy in particular. If I’ve learnt anything about anime fans it’s that they can be a tad obsessive, so you can guarantee a fair number will dig deeper into what lies behind the designs. It’s the education of a wider public – almost through subterfuge – that earns this aircraft a place on the list and, if nothing else, it’s the best porcine aviation based animation you may never have seen!
9. Macchi M.39
America had shown the old countries the way with regard to what was required to win the Schneider Trophy in its later years, with the CR-3 in 1923. In 1926, the USA was on the cusp of winning it forever. The Italians retorted by showed how they had learned from the American success with the Macchi M.39. As the Curtiss had set the model for success before it, the M.39 refined this further and introduced the basic aircraft configuration that would be followed by all subsequent winners. Castoldi had studied the entrants in 1925 and applied what he’d learned to his new design, concentrating on attention to detail around the streamlining and packaging. The other aspect embraced was government backing; Il Duce’s regime funding it and creating the Reparto Alta Velocita (High Speed Unit) as the team to uphold Italy’s honour. The M.39, with its Fiat AS2 engine, was the first to hold the fuel in the floats and crystallised the classic late 20’s design (albeit as an all-wood construction)
The key features were a faired in cockpit with minimal height screen, low monoplane wing, surface radiators and minimal external bracing. There were problems at the start with the aircraft being difficult to handle, both on the water and in the air, but the initial development programme at least got these to a point where they were manageable. There were also problems with the inlet duct causing a reduction in engine power, something that would reoccur with a number of later aircraft as the limits of testing and knowledge were pushed further. In this case it was solved whilst out in America for the race where the M.39 was finally able to show its class and grab the win, vanquishing the biplane as victor to the history books forever.
8. Piaggio Pegna PC7
The Piaggio Pegna PC7 manages to clamber so far up the list simply by being so inherently audacious and, given it was such an ambitious design, having come so close to flying. Pegna had been creating various wild schemes for some time and in 1928 his persistence was rewarded with a contract from the Italian government for two examples of the PC7. Sadly there were too many novelties and too little time to develop them, but the PC7 wasn’t simply a madcap scheme. The overall driver for the design stems from the use of hydroplanes instead of floats or a conventional hull, an approach which required with numerous additional, and very complex, features. Pegna had been actively researching hydroplanes during the First World War and returned to them as a way of reducing weight and drag. The problem of creating a ‘vane design’ that would work well when on the water and in flight occupied quite a bit of time. There was also the matter of how you deal with the low lying propeller at the front. This was solved by installing a clutched variable pitch water propeller in the back and a clutched drive to the main prop up front. The latter also had a cunning device to ensure that when stopped it would always be with the propeller blades across the aircraft (the position shown in the photograph above).
All of which allowed for a slim, low-sitting, fuselage-hull without wing tip floats. The nose was extraordinarily long and the pilot located pilot well back toward the fin. Both PC7s were completed but an inherent instability during take-off, and the passing of the race itself, meant they never actually flew. Instead they simply became beautiful, visionary, and utterly glorious cul-de-sacs.
7. Gloster Napier VI
The Gloster Napier VI only came about because of the decision to change the Schneider Trophy into a biennial event after 1927. At the time, Gloster were shaping up to develop their series of good but not quite good enough biplane racers a little further. Meanwhile, the aero-engine manufacturer Napier were reconciled to the Lion engine finally being outclassed. However, an additional year of preparatory time was enough to spur both airframe and engine designers to greater ambition. The result was VI with its supercharged version of the W-12 engine. Two aircraft were built and, with their gold painted fuselages, the type soon became known as the ‘Golden Arrow.’ If nothing else the looks promised much. Even by Schneider Trophy standards, the new type had a small fuselage and highly polished finish. In fact many still view this as the most handsome aircraft ever to be built in pursuit of the trophy. The slim wings (with their hint of the elliptical) had a ‘kick up’ at the root to provide an aerodynamically efficient junction with the fuselage revealing the extreme care with which the type was designed. The supercharger, designed under contract by British Thomson-Houston, was fed by three carburettors which in turn were fed by air from three separate intakes. It is here that the key to the VI’s failure lay: the engines could not be made to run consistently under race conditions, a problem generally attributed to the related inlet ducting. The tendency to cut out during high speed turns was especially dangerous in the racing environment. The Gloster VI may never have competed because of this, but N249 momentarily snatched glory in 1929 when it set the world speed record at 336.3mph. Sadly for Gloster, the Supermarine S6 topped this a mere two days later, but at least it had earned its brief place in the sun – and validated Henry Folland’s masterly, but flawed, design.
6. Supermarine Sea Lion II
Supermarine first entered the Schneider Trophy in 1919 with the Sea Lion and, truth be told, it hadn’t gone at all well. They returned with the Sea Lion II in 1922 and this time they were far more successful, taking the win in Naples. Sea Lions I and II are related but its not quite so simple as one being a development of the other.
Supermarine had built and supplied three aircraft to the government in support of a bid to supply single-seat fighter flying boats during World War I. After the cessation of hostilities they bought them back, possibly with a view to selling them onto wealthy individuals for ‘sports’ flying. What two of them actually ended up being used for was forming the basis for the racers, the small single-seat hull being an ideal starting point. The Sea Lion II had the more convoluted evolution of the two, passing through an intermediate phase before emerging as the aircraft that would finally race. New wings and a new tail got it match fit, while swapping the engine for a development of the Napier Lion W-12 didn’t do any harm for its chances of success either. Whereas the Sea Lion looks a little ‘square rigged‘ to our eyes the Sea Lion II at least has the streamlined nose the modern eye expects. The latter aircraft makes it onto the list for one very special reason though, and that is by it being the last flying boat to win the trophy. There were flying boats that came later and flew faster but this was the last time an integral hull was proven as giving the best solution to building a waterborne racing aircraft. As such it is arguably both the last and the ultimate of its kind.
5. 1913 Deperdussin
The first Schneider Trophy was held in 1913 and the Deperdussin earns its place in the top 10 by being the first winner. However, the reason for inclusion does go a little deeper.
The intent of the race was to promote the reliability of seaplanes and flying boats, thereby improving the breed. This is why, right up to the end, competing aircraft still had to carry out sea worthiness and taxiing trials. It was never simply an outright speed contest. Deperdussin entered a number of slightly different aircraft in the inaugural competition although only one made it to the start line. With a wood ply monocoque forward fuselage to which were attached just the single set of wings, this was an aircraft far removed from the Wright Flyer of only a decade before. Up against a Morane-Saulnier and a couple of Nieuports, the surviving Deperdussin came in first due to various problems befalling the other competitors. 1914 saw a near doubling of the winning speed and a similar level of attrition before the clouds of war halted flying for sport (other than blood) in Europe for the following four years. By the time the contest resumed in 1919, the sustained – desperate – military funded development of aviation had brought a relatively high level of reliability with it.
The game had changed, and manufacturers were compromising a little too much for teh sake of outright speed, and the initial objective for the Schneider Trophy had been undeniably diluted. The Deperdussin and 1914’s Sopwith Tabloid stand then as the only winners that had to be designed as a complete package, to struggle to be superlative across the complete range of disciplines originally demanded by Jacques Schneider.
4. Supermarine S5
Italy well and truly established the way forward in 1926, and R. J. Mitchell, who would later create the Spitfire, responded with the audaciously sleek S5, designed for the 1927 Schneider Trophy contest in Venice. The gentle waters of Venice would reverberate to the fire-breathing majesty of the fastest and most beautiful machines in existence.
Conforming to the new norm for success, this was a design both supported by the government and benefiting from extensive testing in government funded institutions. In addition the RAF formed its own High Speed Flight to provide the team that would enter on Britain’s behalf. The S5 though took the principle of reducing drag to obsessive levels of detail. The radiators were of the surface-type mounted on the wings and the fuel was held in one of the floats, removing the need to find room for it in the fuselage. The oil was also cooled by surface radiators but this time mounted on the fuselage sides. Although this basic architecture had been a feature of the M.39, Mitchell saw beyond that design and realised it unlocked a potential for dropping the cross sectional area to minuscule proportions. Napier helped by cleaning up the Lion, and Mitchell packaged it so tightly that the cam covers formed the external surfaces of the aircraft. The fuselage behind this was tiny, the pilot only being able to get into it by half turning until his shoulders were below the cockpit edge. The overall result was that the S5 had a clear advantage over its opponents even before the propellers turned. The S5 seemed to fly well with no particular indication of vices but despite this Flight Lieutenant Kinkead lost his life while attempting to set a speed record in 1928. The S5 succeeded in 1927 and was so good that two years later it only lost second place to Italy’s M.52R by a trifling two mph.
3. Curtiss CR-3
Up to 1923 the development of racing water-borne aircraft had followed a process that veered between seaplanes and flying boats, but which was still a recognisably evolutionary path (excepting the leap forward in technology that came with WWI). The Curtiss CR-3 that won in 1923 indicated a step change from this and became the pattern for how people went about winning the Schneider Trophy from then until the competition’s conclusion in 1931. It is apparent from photos of the CR-3, when compared with its peers and predecessors, that it was a very clean design, reduced to what at the time must have seemed to be the smallest overall package. The others are obviously racing aircraft in that they are small with a large engine but this has the look of every aspect having been reviewed and pared down individually. The major mechanical components were similarly optimised in support of this. The engine, Curtiss’ own D-12, was superlative. Later, even Italy went on to source examples to power its own racers, and the Reed patent metal propeller also became the default fitment for serious contenders. It was the perfect storm to be faced by its fellow competitors.
The other key change the CR-3 brought with it was less obvious but equally important, it was ordered by the U.S. Navy to enter into the contest. This was now essentially a government backed endeavour and from here on a private venture would no longer have the money or resources to win the competition alone. It could be argued that up to this point companies had entered to promote themselves and also, perhaps, to fly the flag for their country. Now it was a straightforward matter of national prestige with all the hopes and pressures that brought with it.
2. Macchi-Castoldi M.C.72
Although conceived to contest the 1931 Schneider Trophy, the M.C.72 ruled itself out by being too late however it did go on to set an outright speed record that stood for five years. The journey to success wasn’t easy though, with Fiat’s A.S.6 24 cylinder engine being the main culprit. The A.S.6 is one of those pieces of engineering that seems half inspired and half insane: take two highly strung V12 race engines and bolt them back to back, having one drive one element of a contra-rotating prop and the other drive the second, with no direct link between the separate throttles for each half of the combined engine. Surprisingly, all this wasn’t the main source of the problem but rather it was the inlet tract, all the way from the carburettor inlets to the cylinder ports. The way the problem generally manifested itself was through backfires and these caused a number of failures which included the splitting of the supercharger casing. Ultimately this caused the deaths of two pilots, Monti and Bellini, and led to the M.C.72 being a no-show at the 1931 event. A protracted development programme, aided by advice on fuel mixtures by Britain’s Rod Banks, eventually brought just enough reliability to allow record attempts to be made. An ultimate speed of 440.68mph was set in 1933, only being bettered in 1939 (by a German landplane), and it’s still the case that no piston-engined seaplane has travelled faster. The proportions dictated by the long engine made it a magnificent looking aircraft. It may have failed in its original aim but the M.C.72 is a worthy runner -up.
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1. Supermarine S6 Series
R.J. Mitchell realised that the S5, along with the Napier Lion, would not be competitive in the race of ’29. The replacement S6 was late to the starting gate, being delivered on August 5th with the competition starting on September 6th. This was partly down to prevarication by the government and RAF, something that would also blight the 1931 attempt, but mainly it was the difficulty in getting the new Rolls Royce R type engine to run reliably. Despite this, it stormed to victory in a 1929. When the S6 followed this with a second win in 1931 Britain got to keep the Trophy forever.
In a further flourish of glory, it achieved an ultimate speed record of 407.5 mph shortly thereafter. Admittedly there were no other competitors in 1931 – but before the race it was decided that a minimum increase in speed had to be met for a win. This was never simply a case of turning up and claiming the prize. There’s also the minor matter that when you enter a race you need to ensure you’re there at the start, having something faster later rather misses the point. Two wins, numerous records and a speed increase of 80mph over its short life are reason enough for the S6 to claim the top spot, but take a moment to look at it as well. There is a lean beauty that comes with the pursuit of aerodynamic cleanliness, the aeronautical equivalent of high cheekbones and in this case it’s perfectly accentuated by the blue and silver paint scheme. The legacy is rather important too, lessons from the S6 and R were applied to the Spitfire and Merlin. Simply sublime on all counts.
By Actuarius
This book can only happen with your support. Preorder your copy today here.Â
From the cocaine, blood and flying scarves of World War One dogfighting to the dark arts of modern air combat, here is an enthralling ode to these brutally exciting killing machines.
The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes is a beautifully designed, highly visual, collection of the best articles from the fascinating world of military aviation –hand-picked from the highly acclaimed Hush-kit online magazine (and mixed with a heavy punch of new exclusive material). It is packed with a feast of material, ranging from interviews with fighter pilots (including the English Electric Lightning, stealthy F-35B and Mach 3 MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’), to wicked satire, expert historical analysis, top 10s and all manner of things aeronautical, from the site described as:
“the thinking-man’s Top Gear… but for planesâ€.
The solid well-researched information about aeroplanes is brilliantly combined with an irreverent attitude and real insight into the dangerous romantic world of combat aircraft.
FEATURING
Interviews with pilots of the F-14 Tomcat, Mirage, Typhoon, MiG-25, MiG-27, English Electric Lighting, Harrier, F-15, B-52 and many more.
Engaging Top (and bottom) 10s including: Greatest fighter aircraft of World War II, Worst British aircraft, Worst Soviet aircraft and many more insanely specific ones.
Expert analysis of weapons, tactics and technology.
A look into art and culture’s love affair with the aeroplane.
Bizarre moments in aviation history.
Fascinating insights into exceptionally obscure warplanes.
The book will be a stunning object: an essential addition to the library of anyone with even a passing interest in the high-flying world of warplanes, and featuring first-rate photography and a wealth of new world-class illustrations.
As the Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev said, “Berlin is the testicles of the West: every time I want to make the West scream, I squeeze on Berlin.”. In 1948 the Soviets wanted to castrate the West and take all of the city, isolated as it was 100 miles in the Soviet-occupied east of Germany. Taking west Berlin would have fortified already growing anti-US feeling in West Germany and could have led to a disaster for the US: all of Germany turning Communist. Whereas the Western powers envisioned a future Germany as vast industrial and military stalwart at the centre of Europe that needed to stay functional to avoid another Hitler, the Soviet Union feared a strong Germany and wanted to keep it weak and use it as a bulwark against the West. In an attempt to starve out West Berlin and force the population to look east, the Soviet Army blocked all roads and rivers. Effectively depriving its already desperate citizens of electricity and food. The battered city sat on the edge of catastrophe. Losing Berlin was a nightmare that President Truman could not bear to consider. While his military advisors suggested withdrawal, the British Royal Air Force suggested an exceptionally unlikely solution: supplying 4,000 tons of food and fuel a day to the beleaguered city. Truman agreed, and the West responded with the greatest humanitarian effort in history, the Berlin Airlift. Finding enough aircraft proved hard, and air forces looked everywhere to find suitable aeroplanes. A motley armada was assembled and against all odds succeeded. Here are the 14 most important aircraft in this titanic enterprise.Â
Whereas other nations had moved toward ever bigger and heavy fighters, the Soviets had gone in the opposite direction with the Yak-3; a loaded Supermarine Spitfire XIV weighed a whopping 2,500 pounds more than a similarly configured Yak-3. Every measure was made to keep the weight down to ensure it was the best-of class for power-to-weight ratio and wing loading, this included partial construction in laminated wood and the use of pneumatic systems in place of the more usual electrical/hydraulics.Â
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During the war, the Yak-3 had been found to be an outstanding dogfighter below 13,000 feet. Unarmed, fully laden transport aircraft would have been easy meat for the superb Yak-3. As it turned out, the Yak-3s did no more than buzz the transports. The world could have become a far worse place if the Yak pilots had been given more aggressive orders. Loaded weight: 2,697 kg / 5,946 lbs Favourite cargo: 150 rounds 20mm ShVAK cannon ammunition
The C-74 was a giant new airlifter in 1948. A single Globemaster aided the operation from the 14 August. Over the next six weeks, the Globemaster crew flew 24 missions delivering 1,234,000 lb (559,700 kg) of supplies. It once delivered 20 tons of flour in one mission, as well as delivering quarter of a million pounds of coal in a single day.Â
Favourite cargo: coal, rock crusher (in parts), flour
11. Short S.25 Sunderland/Hythe ‘The Flying Porcupine’Â
These big flying boats had been with RAF Coastal Command on the first and last day of the Second World War. Theirs had been a very busy war but yet more was to be asked from them. Taking advantage of their ability to take-off and land from water they were operated between the Elbe Estuary in Hamburg and Berlin’s Lake Havel. The Sunderlands and Hythes (the name for the unarmed civil version of the Sunderland) added capacity to the airlift without consuming space and resources at ground bases. The seaworthy paint on Sunderlands enabled them to carry sacks of salt without fear of corrosion.
Loaded weight: 27,200 kg / 60,000 lbs Favourite cargo: steam irons, rolls of newsprint, sacks of salt, children not feeling well, cardboard boxes with MADE IN CANADA printed on them.
10. Avro Lancaster/Lancastrian ‘Gert Lancaster’
To a wartime Lancaster crew, the seemingly innocuous word ‘cookie’ had a macabre meaning, it was another word for a ‘blockbuster’* bomb, so-called because it was big enough – sometimes weighing as much 12,000Ib – to destroy an entire block of streets. The aircraft went from dropping ‘cookies’* of death from 25,000 feet to bringing actual cookies to the people of Berlin. The most warlike aircraft on this top list is surely the Lancaster, working with its civilian sister, the Lancastrian. Good luck overstating the irony of seeing Bomber Command’s premier high explosives delivery platform in the role of humanitarian relief with a fuselage full of essentials. The very people subjected to the Lancaster’s nocturnal attentions during the war were, before they knew it, eating a warm dinner by the stove only thanks to the presence and capacity of this machine. Oceania has always been at war with Eastasia. Either way, the Lancastrian would have about a decade of service on long-range air routes after the war until modern passenger airliners were available (ones that could carry more than nine people in side-facing chairs). Unconverted Lancasters, it can be noted, had repatriated prisoners of war back to the UK in another operation so the Berlin Blockade is not the only time this aggressive machine did more heart-warming, less people-burning, duties.
*It is from this we have the word to describe a successful film
9. Avro 688 Tudor ‘A Tudor rose’Â
The Tudor was a big plane, an ambitious design intended for long range civilian air travel. It had Lancaster DNA: the Tudor used the same wing as the Lincoln, which was essentially a stretched Lancaster. But it sported a new tail and circular fuselage and such comforts as kapok insulation and the first pressurised fuselage on a British airliner. Sales were slimmer than hoped due to what is looked back upon as a combined government and industrial failure to capitalise on post war opportunities and the fact that better quality or cheaper alternatives were available from American firms or in the form of war surplus. The air effort to supply Berlin was simply ramped up so fast it couldn’t help but suck in a few civil-registered Tudors to move liquid fuels, securing the type’s only real claim to fame. If we discount the Rolls-Royce Nene testbed VX158, that is.
Loaded weight: 34,473 kg / 76,000 lbs Favourite cargo: barbecue starter fluid, Ronson and Zippo lighter flints, gasoline, nylons.
8. Handley Page Halton/Halifax ‘ ‘Last cargo in Halifax’Â
Aircraft from the Second World War served in the Berlin Airlift in modified, civilianized forms and in their exact wartime configurations. Newer aircraft produced after the war were also present. Sometimes such aircraft were operated by civilian airlines (with, no doubt, demobilised service personnel in their crews) contracted to help military organisations. The most visually striking aircraft of the entire effort must be the red Halton freighters belonging to Eagle Aviation Limited. Four-engined bombers were among the top three or four strategic weapons of the war and they were nearly always a noisy and impressive sight in any numbers. In comparison to the Lancaster, the Halifax suffered from the kind of airplane sibling rivalry that assigns reputations sometimes unfairly in the manner of the Supermarine Spitfire and Hawker Hurricane. The demilitarised Halifax, the Halton, adds a thick layer of obscurity to that process. Either way, the mail brought in and out of Berlin by Haltons was probably cherished in a Europe still heartbroken by the worst war in human history.
Loaded weight: 25,000 kg / 54,400 lbs Favourite cargo: coal, flour, mail, Coke, dog food, prams, car engines, aquarium filters, feather pillows.
7. Bristol 170 Freighter ‘Lovely Bristols’
To many the Bristol 170 Freighter conjures up nostalgic thoughts of mid-century air travel. The idea of Triumph convertibles or Rolls-Royce Silver Wraiths disgorged onto French airfields from a giant aluminium nose now seems utterly exotic, and sadly they are gone for ever. Less glamorous but far more important was the Bristol Freighters role in Berlin, as part of the mixed collection of types operated by Silver City Airway.Â
Loaded weight: 34,473 kg / 76,000 lbs Favourite cargo: Leica cameras for export, Life magazine, tinned sardines, bricks, sewing pins, pianos.
A heavyweight champion of the airlift, with a physical resemblance to the Focke-Wulf Fw 200 Condor, the Hastings was a massive tail-dragger with 6,700 horsepower turning a set of four-bladed props. Its service adoption was accelerated by the demands of the airlift, especially the need for coal. The three RAF squadrons operating the type delivered 55,000 tons of supplies.Â
Loaded weight: 80,000Â lb (36,287Â kg) Favourite cargo: coal, lumber, Mars bars, books, rope, anvils, printing presses, fabric swatches, cigars.
5. Fairchild C-82 Packet ‘The Boomers’
Three Fairchild C-82 Packet of the U.S. Air Force with their military passenger complement, troopers of the all-air Army. Note: All trucks, trailers and personnel shown in photo can not be transported in these three C-82s. Pope Field, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. 1948
Like the Sunderlands, the Packets were given a specific job to do in support of Berlin. Graders, bulldozers and other machinery, sometimes partially disassembled, were loaded into these aircraft and sent over to Berlin’s airports. There to be employed building and maintaining the aprons, taxiways, cargo dumps, parking areas and runways. The twin-boom tail on the Packet, found later on the C-119 Flying Boxcar and the Nord Noratlas, allowed loading clearance for objects of almost any kind and for trucks to reverse directly up to the aircraft.
Loaded weight: 24,500 kg / 54,000 lbs Favourite cargo: earth-moving equipment, racks of bottled milk, evening wear, eggs
 4. Douglas C-47 Skytrain/DC-3 Dakota ‘Dakota spanning’
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The C-47 was arguably the most important transport aircraft of the Allied nations in the 1940s. It had served at D-Day, Market Garden and the Burma-India theatres with aplomb and developed a reputation for rugged do-anything reliability. In the Berlin Airlift it performed thousands of sorties into Tempelhof and Gatow airports. Many Dakotas even remained in their wartime camouflage schemes while doing so. All ranks in the C-47 units must have felt as if the war days had come right seeing row upon roaring row of the beloved aircraft loaded and dispatched for Berlin. But the Skytrain’s day was over and it was time to make way for the bigger, more capable, C-54.
Into this list of butch utilitarian designs arrives the feminine triple-tailed Avro York. Churchill and Charles de Gaulle used one each during the war and whatever else those men got up to, you can’t blame them for wanting to be seen next to one of these silver Art Deco beauts. Not just a pretty thing with portholes*, no, the York had Merlin XXs and the same wings as the Lancaster. Still a fairly fresh design in 1948, Yorks performed sterling service during the airlift. Nearly half of the British contribution to supplying Berlin was carried by Yorks: a million tons, over 58,000 sorties.
(*Ed: This is bit ’70s and borderline sexist. Stephen, you have been warned)
Loaded weight: 29,500 kg / 65,000 lbs Favourite cargo: coal, flat-pack furniture, plaster-and-lathe supplies, bronze statues of classical musicians, shoes, umbrellas, Jazz LPs.
2. Vickers VC.1 Viking ‘Horny Vickers’Â
An evolution of the successful Wellington bomber, much was anticipated of the Viking as the world returned to peace. First flying in 1946, the Viking would go on to become a global success story. In 1948, a mid-air collision between a Soviet Yak-3 and a British European Airways Viking over Berlin killed 15 people. This incident would set the stage for the airlift, in which the Viking would participate and quickly prove itself. The controversy and tension created by the’ Gatow air disaster’ further soured the already hostile mess of Germany’s diplomatic, political and economic relationships to her former enemies, allies and subjects. This encouraged Stalin to isolate Berlin, and to further test western resolve. From such a dramatic and pivotal youth, the Viking enjoyed a happier later life and become a common sight at airports all over the world.
Loaded weight: 15,422 kg / 34,000 lbs Favourite cargo: machine tools, nail files, lead ingots, concrete blocks, mail, passengers.
1. Douglas C-54/R-5D ‘Candy Bomber’
Absolutely the icon of the entire operation and the immortal ‘candy bomber’, was an ocean-spanning, four-engined cousin of the DC-3. What a machine. After a respectable wartime career, the C-54 came into its own during the airlift. The famous photograph of a C-54 passing over German civilians gazing up with hearts full of democratic warmth illustrates the success of the operation in both humanitarian and public relations terms.
Few expected such a vast, complicated and dangerous operation could succeed in the face of abysmal winter weather. How could aircraft take over the daily mass bulk movement of goods like coal and flour normally handled by trucks, canal barges, and rail cars? The handsome C-54 would more than answer the doomsayers and Premier Stalin in equal measure.
Loaded weight: 33,100 kg / 73,000 lbs Favourite cargo: refrigerators, switchblade knives, juke boxes, chocolate bars, toys and raisins and the feeling that we all really cared and had something to stand up for.
Stephen Caulfield (with Joe Coles, Ed Ward and Thomas Newdick)
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From the cocaine, blood and flying scarves of World War One dogfighting to the dark arts of modern air combat, here is an enthralling ode to these brutally exciting killing machines.
The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes is a beautifully designed, highly visual, collection of the best articles from the fascinating world of military aviation –hand-picked from the highly acclaimed Hush-kit online magazine (and mixed with a heavy punch of new exclusive material). It is packed with a feast of material, ranging from interviews with fighter pilots (including the English Electric Lightning, stealthy F-35B and Mach 3 MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’), to wicked satire, expert historical analysis, top 10s and all manner of things aeronautical, from the site described as:
“the thinking-man’s Top Gear… but for planesâ€.
The solid well-researched information about aeroplanes is brilliantly combined with an irreverent attitude and real insight into the dangerous romantic world of combat aircraft.
FEATURING
Interviews with pilots of the F-14 Tomcat, Mirage, Typhoon, MiG-25, MiG-27, English Electric Lighting, Harrier, F-15, B-52 and many more.
Engaging Top (and bottom) 10s including: Greatest fighter aircraft of World War II, Worst British aircraft, Worst Soviet aircraft and many more insanely specific ones.
Expert analysis of weapons, tactics and technology.
A look into art and culture’s love affair with the aeroplane.
Bizarre moments in aviation history.
Fascinating insights into exceptionally obscure warplanes.
The book will be a stunning object: an essential addition to the library of anyone with even a passing interest in the high-flying world of warplanes, and featuring first-rate photography and a wealth of new world-class illustrations.
Who? English aircraft designer, William Edward Willoughby ‘Teddy’ Petter
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Who would play him in a film? Charles Hawtrey with a fake nose or  Phoebe Waller-Bridge
Â
Born: Highgate, London
Â
When? 1908
Â
Famous for: Lysander, Gnat, Canberra
Â
Estimated boxing weight class: Bantam
They should have listened to him:
He was an early proponent of Britain’s thwarted supersonic efforts.
He thought simple very light agile fighters were a good idea, the Gnat/Ajeet proved successful in India but was relegated to the trainer role in the UK.Â
The almost brilliant: Whirlwind.
Did he work on the Spitfire? Yes, he worked on the ‘Westland Elevator’ which produced a ‘remarkable’ improvement in longitudinal stability.
Petter was involved in the early stages of the development of the Lightning.Â
Didn’t know that he also worked on the: No surprises here I can find
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Weird fact
In January 1960 Petter left the aircraft industry forever to become a holy man. He joined the religious commune of ‘Father Forget’ in Switzerland.
This book can only happen with your support. Preorder your copy today here.
From the cocaine, blood and flying scarves of World War One dogfighting to the dark arts of modern air combat, here is an enthralling ode to these brutally exciting killing machines.
The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes is a beautifully designed, highly visual, collection of the best articles from the fascinating world of military aviation –hand-picked from the highly acclaimed Hush-kit online magazine (and mixed with a heavy punch of new exclusive material). It is packed with a feast of material, ranging from interviews with fighter pilots (including the English Electric Lightning, stealthy F-35B and Mach 3 MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’), to wicked satire, expert historical analysis, top 10s and all manner of things aeronautical, from the site described as:
“the thinking-man’s Top Gear… but for planesâ€.
The solid well-researched information about aeroplanes is brilliantly combined with an irreverent attitude and real insight into the dangerous romantic world of combat aircraft.
FEATURING
Interviews with pilots of the F-14 Tomcat, Mirage, Typhoon, MiG-25, MiG-27, English Electric Lighting, Harrier, F-15, B-52 and many more.
Engaging Top (and bottom) 10s including: Greatest fighter aircraft of World War II, Worst British aircraft, Worst Soviet aircraft and many more insanely specific ones.
Expert analysis of weapons, tactics and technology.
A look into art and culture’s love affair with the aeroplane.
Bizarre moments in aviation history.
Fascinating insights into exceptionally obscure warplanes.
The book will be a stunning object: an essential addition to the library of anyone with even a passing interest in the high-flying world of warplanes, and featuring first-rate photography and a wealth of new world-class illustrations.
The JAS 39 Gripen entered service with the Swedish Air Force in June 1996 and is now the sole combat type in the Flygvapnet. Paul Stoddart compares this fourth generation aircraft with its ancestor, the portly yet effective, J 29 Tunnan which entered service 46 years earlier.Â
Saab began its J 29 work by considering a straight wing design but in November 1945 obtained some German swept wing research data. The benefits of sweep back prompted a very rapid re-evaluation of the project and by February 1946, a 25-degree swept wing design had been selected for development. Automatic leading edge slats were fitted to prevent the airflow over the wings from separating in high AOA manoeuvres. At the transonic speeds achieved by post-war jets, shockwaves forming on the tailplane would render conventional (ie trailing edge mounted) elevators, downstream of the shock, ineffective. Those speeds also moved the mainplane centre of pressure rearwards resulting in pitch-down that the ineffective elevators struggled to correct. The solution was the flying tail in which the entire horizontal tailplane could move in pitch. Shockwaves still formed on a flying tail but its area ahead of the shock front would remain an effective control surface. As stated earlier, the Tunnan was the first Western European jet fighter to have this system and it has become standard for transonic and supersonic aircraft of conventional tail layout. Fighter agility depends, inter alia, on a rapid roll rate.
The J 29 prototype featured full span ailerons but these produced an excessive rate of roll of 180 degrees per second. They were superseded by ailerons of around 65% span with the remaining inboard section replaced by flaps.
From March 1953, the J 29B became the standard Tunnan version. The major change was the installation of internal wing tanks that added 154 Imperial gallons (700 litres) of fuel taking the internal total to 462 Imperial gallons (2,100 litres), a 50% increase. Twin 99 Imperial gallon (450 litre) drop tanks could also be carried so offering a total load of 660 Imperial gallons (3,000 litres). The tanks were fitted at roughly mid-span on the outer of the two main pylons with the inboard hardpoints retained for weapons. The original Gripen uses a 242 Imperial gallon (1,100 litres) drop tank that can be fitted on the centreline and inboard underwing pylons. With three tanks in place, total fuel carried is 1,386 Imp gallons (6,300 litres); the internal load being 660 Imp gallons (3,000 litres).
The Tunnan’s wing was shoulder mounted, meeting the fuselage somewhat above the centreline. The wing was a one-piece structure and ran straight through the capacious fuselage passing just behind the cockpit rear pressure bulkhead and above the intake duct. Gripen also has a shoulder-mounted wing, which is set roughly at the centreline of the slim fuselage. This is slightly below the level of the canards that in turn are mounted just below the upper surface of the intakes. Fuel tanks are fitted in the upper part of the fuselage middle section with the intake duct(s) and main undercarriage bays placed below.
A one-piece wing could have been mounted level with the fuselage upper or lower surfaces as per the Jaguar and Phantom respectively. A low mounted wing on the diminutive Gripen would have offered insufficient ground clearance for loading underwing stores without a longer and heavier undercarriage. To achieve favourable interaction, the canards have to be set above the level of the mainplanes. Lack of suitable alternative mounting points for the canards would rule out the high wing location option. Furthermore, in order to reduce drag, it is best to avoid forming acute angles at wing-fuselage fairings. A mid wing configuration arguably offers the best overall solution in this and the other respects; it is therefore an entirely reasonable design choice.
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The Tunnan was of monocoque structure built from aluminium alloy. High strength and stiffness were required to withstand the loadings imposed by transonic flight and a very fine standard of surface finish was also achieved in order to reduce skin drag. In structural terms, the Gripen marked a major change for Saab with composite materials (carbon fibre, glass fibre and Aramid) accounting for 20% of the structure by weight. Fatigue life consumption is reduced by a gust alleviation system. Aircraft disturbance is sensed by the flight control system, which prompts control surface reaction to alleviate the loads imposed.
The most obvious difference between these aircraft is in their lifting and control surfaces. Although radical at its inception for its swept wing and flying tail, the J 29 was standard in being longitudinally stable with a conventionally sited tailplane. Such tailplanes apply a download to balance the mainplane’s lift (the mainplane’s centre of pressure being behind the centre of gravity). In turn, the mainplane must generate additional lift to counter the tail’s down force and as a result lift-induced drag is increased. The Tunnan’s primary flying controls were the tailplane for pitch and the ailerons for roll. By contrast, the Gripen controls pitch by the canard while the inboard and outboard elevons on the delta wing act in both pitch and roll. The canard applies a lifting force to balance the mainplane and this co-operative interaction reduces the overall lift-induced drag.
Saab originally reversed the traditional arrangement with the Viggen and adopted a tail-first or canard design although it retained natural longitudinal stability. With the JAS 39, the full potential of the canard was realised. Full time, full authority, digital, fly by wire flight control system (FCS) allowed the adoption of artificial stability in pitch with attendant gains in agility and aerodynamic efficiency. At supersonic speeds the centre of lift on all wings moves aft promoting a nose down moment. A conventional aircraft trims this by increasing the tailplane download whereas the opposite applies with the canard, a more efficient solution. An unstable canard design offers more lift during take-off and landing, better supersonic turning performance and lower supersonic drag. The FCS keeps the Gripen’s instability in check and allows the full envelope to be exploited without the risk of overstress or departure from controlled flight. This carefree handling facility enables the pilot to concentrate on the mission while the FCS controls the load factor, AOA, angle of sideslip and roll rate. Another function unavailable to the Tunnan is CG control. The fuel control system not only monitors the fuel remaining but also balances the amounts drawn from the various tanks to keep the CG within limits.
Weapons and Systems
The early swept wing combat aircraft were designed as gun-fighters and the Tunnan was no exception. Its original standard armament was a battery of four 20 mm Hispano cannons with 180 rounds per gun. Stemming from an original design of the early 1930s, the Hispano weighed 84 lb (34 kg) and fired a 4.88 oz (138 gram) round with a muzzle velocity of 2,880 ft/sec (878 m/sec). The muzzles were spaced circumferentially on the underside of the nose, a short distance back from the intake. Some jet fighters (eg the Hunter F.1 with its axial Rolls Royce Avon 100 series) experienced considerable engine problems through the ingestion of the shock waves of their cannon shells. A centrifugal compressor may be broader than its axial flow equivalent but it is inherently more tolerant of disturbed airflow. Cannon blast ingestion was inevitable on the Tunnan but no engine surge problems appear to have been experienced.
Two factors combined to make cannons alone an insufficient armament for air combat. The speed of jet fighters made for only fleeting firing opportunities while their stronger structures (for the high aerodynamic loads) could withstand cannon shell damage – up to a point. Cannons therefore required both a high rate of fire and a heavy high velocity round but these features tended to oppose each other. The more powerful cannons had a slow rate of fire and the faster models had less punch. One attempted solution to this problem was to fit fighters with batteries of unguided air-to-air rockets that would be fired in a barrage of a dozen or more in the hope of at least one hitting a fighter target or several hitting a bomber. The Tunnan was fitted with twenty-four 75 mm (2.95 in) diameter rockets carried in vertical stacks of four on three close-set hardpoints inboard of each wing drop tank. In the event, such rockets were to prove a blind alley and although adopted by several air forces they were superseded by guided missiles. From 1963, the J 29E could carry a pair of Sidewinder air-to-air missiles (AAM) termed Rb 24 in the Flygvapnet inventory. This addition helped keep the Tunnan viable until it went out of service in May 1967, the Saab Draken having progressively taken over the fighter role from 1959.
Proving to be a fine weapons platform during testing, the Tunnan J 29B was applied to the ground attack role with the new designation A 29B. The four Hispanos were retained and either fourteen 14.5 cm (5.7 in) anti-armour rockets or four 18 cm (7.1 in) rockets for hard, fixed targets could be carried. As mentioned above, the drop tanks were fitted to the outboard main pylons where they would have helped relieve the wing bending moment. Inboard of the tanks, there were up to four hardpoints under each wing. The 14.5 cm rockets were carried in six vertical pairs plus a single rocket on the furthest inboard position to avoid a clash with the undercarriage door. The 18 cm rockets had individual pylon mountings. All the Tunnan’s weapons bar the Rb 24 Sidewinder were unguided whereas the opposite obtains with the majority of the Gripen’s armament. Although guided weapon unit cost is greater than the ballistic equivalent, their higher accuracy makes for better cost-effectiveness. As fewer rounds and aircraft sorties are needed to destroy a target, the result is a lower overall cost in weapons plus likely lower aircraft and aircrew losses.
The USAF had expended time, effort and lives but the B-36 was still just as v
The JAS 39’s interceptor predecessor, the JA 37 Viggen was equipped with the 30 mm Oerlikon KCA cannon, a weapon of exceptional performance. With the high muzzle velocity of 3,937 ft/sec (1,200 m/sec), it could engage targets at 1.25 miles (2 km). The KCA was simply too bulky for the diminutive Gripen and instead it has a single 27 mm Mauser BK27 cannon (as used in Eurofighter Typhoon) with 120 rounds. It is fitted in a semi-scabbed arrangement in the port lower fuselage behind the cockpit and with the muzzle emerging about 0.5 m ahead of the intake. Although a lighter weapon than the Oerlikon, it has a higher rate of fire, 1,700 rounds per minute compared to 1,320, so putting out 28% more shells in any burst. It fires the 9.2 ounce (260 gram) rounds at a muzzle velocity greater than 3,280 ft/sec (1,000 m/sec). There is a 300 rounds per minute option for air-to-surface targets; barrel life is extended in this mode. The cannon is deleted from the trainer in order to free internal volume for the second seat.
In the air-to-air role, the Gripen’s main weapons were originally the Rb 74 Sidewinder (the AIM-9L variant) and the RB 72 AIM-120 AMRAAM. Later, the IRIS-T (Rb. 98), A-Darter and MICA were cleared. One Rb 74 is carried on each wingtip; the four underwing hardpoints can each carry an Rb 72 although a typical fit might see the two inboard missiles replaced by drop tanks. The integration of radar guided AAMs in Saab aircraft began with the Draken, the Tunnan never gaining such a weapon. In the Gripen, the core of the system is the Ericsson Microwave Systems PS-05 pulse-Doppler radar that has look-down, shoot-down capability for the air defence mission. Moreover, it is a multi-mode radar with full, rather than secondary, attack and reconnaissance functions available in the one package. The PS-05 was based on the GEC-Marconi Blue Vixen (also the basis of the Typhoon’s CAPTOR radar) and was regarded as having similar performance to the Northrop Grumman AN/APG-66(V)2 radar of the F-16AM.
For air-to-surface, the Saab-Bofors Rbs 15F radar homing missile is the main anti-ship weapon with the infra-red imaging Rb 75 employed for high value land targets. The latter is the Swedish designation for the Raytheon AGM-65 Maverick; it is a fire-and-forget weapon with its own seeker image displayed in the cockpit before launch to allow target selection. For anti-ship missions, the radar is operated in search mode while the Rbs 15F has its own radar allowing the Gripen to turn away after launch. It is also fitted with a jet engine rather than a rocket motor so conferring greater range for a given size; rockets are not efficient at low altitude. The precision, long-range, Taurus KEPD 350 stand-off weapon has also been flown on the aircraft.
Other than its radar, Gripen also has several systems that were simply not available in the Tunnan’s day. Through its encrypted tactical datalink, a JAS 39 can receive updates on the battlespace from a ground controller, airborne early warning (AEW) aircraft or other Gripens. Its navigation suite is based on a ring-laser gyro integrated with GPS (global positioning system) satellite navigation. Head down information is presented on three screen displays while a head up display (HUD) provides the essential flight and aiming cues. By contrast, the Tunnan pilot had a map, compass and stopwatch for navigation and his head-up information was limited to a gyro gunsight. The main JAS 39 system and weapon functions are selected through HOTAS (hands on throttle and stick). Weapon selection is through stick-mounted switches. The throttle has two pistol grips; sensor controls (radar range and scan angle) are on the upper with the lower switches providing airbrake selection and certain navigation functions. The Litening G111 FLIR/LDP (forward looking infra-red/laser designator pod) has been integrated to support the use of the GBU-12 and GBU-16 LGB (laser guided bombs). Systems integration is achieved on Gripen through a MIL-STD 1553 databus, a massively more advanced technology than that of the J 29. The Swedish developed datalink of the JAS 39 A/B is not compatible with any NATO datalink, nor was the Swedish Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) compatible with the NATO equivalent. By contrast, the Gripen C/D is NATO compatible featuring a Link 16 datalink (essential for operating alongside US aircraft) and NATO IFF Mode 1-4.
This article is Paul’s personal view of the development of the Tunnan in comparison with the Gripen A. It contains no implication of Ministry of Defence policy nor should any be inferred.
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The ‘neanderthal B-1B’People often call aircraft beautiful. There’s no disputing that the act of flight itself is a thing of beauty. Breaking the shackles of gravity, reaching for the freedom that only the sky allows, that is a truly wondrous thing, but it’s a much more intangible thing to discuss the actual looks of the aircraft that do it themselves.
By Sam Wise
No doubt there have been hideous aircraft, this website alone is testament to that. Which aircraft are actually beautiful, which evoke a sense of aesthetic pleasure, is a different matter. On the face of it, it’s a very subjective subject – beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. This oft-repeated phrase is always trotted out when someone is called out on a claim that an objectively ugly plane is good-looking – see, for example, the mistaken belief that the neanderthal-looking B-1B is the aesthetic superior to the heart-achingly beautiful Tu-160.
 The heart-achingly beautiful Tu-160.
So people will debate for hours on the subject of which of their favourite aircraft is beautiful and which aren’t, often confusing capability with looks and almost always leaving people scratching their heads wondering how on earth ​that​ could be called good-looking.
“It is unlikely that Keats knew much of Cold War bomber aircraft (probably) but his famous line “Beauty is truth, truth beauty†rings just as true for Mach 2.2-capable commercial airliners as it does for Greek pots.”
If we want to take a firmer, more definitive approach to the matter, as with all things in aviation we must turn to the wisdom of our forebears and of the ancients. It’s evident that the physical appearance of the aircraft plays a role in producing its beauty. As Aristotle describes in his ​Poetics​, “to be beautiful, a living creature, and every whole made up of parts, must … present a certain order in its arrangement of partsâ€. There is a clear “look†that lends itself to this evocation, something organic. Note the moth-like planform of the Avro Vulcan or the curves and symmetry of the Spitfire vs the angular and brutish lack of appeal of the likes of the F-22 and F-35. Certainly Aristotle could think of beauty as something calculable and mathematic, something you could take in a vacuum, apply a formula to and see if it checks all the boxes. But beauty is an inherently emotional response to an object or vision, and there’s plenty of emotion in aviation.
The Mirage 2000 is the platonic ideal of a delta-winged fighter.Â
Plato disagreed with Aristotle’s views. For Plato, beauty was an inherently spiritual concept. Taking his concept of beauty from the ​Symposium​, we cannot understand the beauty of an aircraft based purely on its lines, its form, its shape, rather it has to be part of the Form of beauty, an unchanging and eternal truth that defines whether something is beautiful or not. Plato describes the advancement through the realisation of beauty – from love of the physical object, through the to the love of the soul, transcending to the love of knowledge, of laws, to a final understanding and love of Beauty itself, an appreciation of the actual existence of that concept.
We sell fantastic high quality aviation-themed gifts here“Man that Typhoon has an ugly intake!”Â
It is unlikely that Keats knew much of Cold War bomber aircraft (probably) but his famous line “Beauty is truth, truth beauty†rings just as true for Mach 2.2-capable commercial airliners as it does for Greek pots. I’m not talking about the plainly untrue line “if it looks right it flies rightâ€, but a far more metaphysical concept of aviation truth. This truth isn’t some capability stat, or top speed, or record broken, it’s a moment of aviation that is evoked across the ages, a representation of the ‘truth’ of the beauty of flight itself. Much like Keats’ Peloponesian vase, it is not so easily defined in terms of this line or that curve but the feeling it creates within us, when we look at a beautiful aircraft and ​understand​ the beauty of flight. This, in aviation, is the Form of beauty that Plato proposes.
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An aircraft’s looks and the feeling of the freedom that flight offers earthbound humans are one and the same. An ugly aircraft cannot offer us that dream of flight in the same way that a beautiful one can but at the same time that beauty is only derived from that feeling. This could be perfectly encapsulated in the Mirage IV. On the face of it, there are several things that you could say make it less than stunning – the poor positioning of the probe, the harshness of the canopy, the size of the tail. And yet, it is a beautiful aeroplane. Something about the jet scream ‘flight.’ It speaks to us of the joy of riding the clouds, of looking down on the Earth from above, the unbound liberty of taking to the air. The Mirage IV is a beautiful aircraft.
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Space Shuttle Enterprise, mounted atop a NASA 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft flies over the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum in New York. Is it our number one? (NASA/Robert Markowitz)Albert Robida drew this transatlantic airship with attendant parasite airships in the late 19th century. This fantastical concept became a reality of sorts in the early 20th.
Since well before heavier than air flight was even possible, parasite aircraft have held a curious attraction. There is something compelling about the idea of a smaller flying machine being launched from a larger one, even more so if that aircraft can be recovered too. Parasite aircraft sometimes make a good deal of sense but on the whole their disadvantages outweigh any practical benefit to be had from parasitism. Here are the best of this scarce but brilliant breed.
11. Bristol Scout and Felixstowe Porte Baby
Porte’s three-engine flying boat was enormous by the standards of late 1915. The parasite concept worked but was not taken up. (Imperial War Museum photo)
This massive flying boat designed by John Cyril Porte and named with lazy irony ‘Baby’ was designed and used as a maritime patrol aircraft. First flown in late 1915, 11 were built and remained in service until the armistice in 1918, a remarkable longevity of service for an aircraft of this generation. For its entire operational life the Baby was the largest flying boat built in the UK. The appearance of the Baby also happened to coincide with the high point of the Zeppelin raids on Britain. This bombing campaign inspired an almost hysterical response, not least because there was simply no effective defence in 1916 and the enormous airships seemed to be able to operate over Britain with impunity.
One of the many schemes proposed to counter the Zeppelin menace was to mount a small fighter aircraft onto the long-ranged Baby which would then patrol over the North Sea, east of the British Isles. If a Zeppelin were encountered, the fighter would be released to effect an interception and then fly back to land if near enough or ditch in the sea. The flying boat could then pick up the (hopefully) victorious pilot and everyone would fly back for tea and medals. Thus the prototype Porte Baby was modified as the mothership for a standard Bristol Scout. Fairly obscure history was made when Bristol Scout number 3028 piloted by Flight Lieutenant MJ Day successfully separated in flight from the Baby (flown on this momentous occasion by Porte himself) at a height of 1000 feet over Felixstowe. Despite the project ultimately going nowhere, the Admiralty deciding (prophetically) that it was too clumsy and dangerous to pursue further, the Bristol Scout had become the first parasite aircraft in history.
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10. Messerschmitt Me 328 and Dornier Do 217
Not as insane a project as many late-war German schemes, the Me 328 was a decent little aircraft stymied by the lack of a viable engine.
Given the somewhat fantastical nature of the parasite fighter as a concept, it should come as no surprise that Nazi Germany (ever willing to try something crazy) spent a lot of money and time on the idea. It should also come as no surprise that the German entry in this select field was ill-conceived, dangerous, built on the cheap, and ultimately contributed nothing to the German war effort. It all started in the standard fashion, massive Luftwaffe bombers were being designed and an effective means of defence for them was sought. The idea that they could take along their own escort fighter was an attractive one. Messerschmitt started work on such a design in 1941, envisioning an aircraft towed aloft by an He 177 or Ju 388 on the end of a flexibly-mounted rigid bar, or carried on the back of their own giant Me 264 bomber. From the outset the concept was muddled, both a fighter (Me 328A) and bomber (Me 328B) were proposed and the emphasis of development would flit back and forth between the two, before all manner of different schemes of varying levels of impracticality would be proposed. None came to fruition.
The Me 328 first flew as a glider. No powerplant at all turned out to be the most effective for the Me 328.
Despite being regarded as a semi-disposable aeroplane, the Me 328 as it emerged was impressive on paper: costing about a quarter of the price of a conventional fighter such as the Fw 190, it was intended to have a top speed of around 500 mph. The fighter version was to be armed with two 20-mm cannon. As a bomber the aircraft was intended to be flown to the East coast of the US and then released to deliver a 500 kg bomb at a speed rendering it effectively beyond interception. The pilot was to ditch at sea and be rescued by a U-boat. Construction was mostly of wood but the most radical aspect of the design was its engines – the Me 328 was to be powered by two Argus pulse jets, identical to those that powered the V-1 flying bomb. Ultimately it would be the engines that doomed the programme.
Despite looking like a rusty old length of drainpipe, the Argus pulse jet was simple and powerful but also incredibly noisy and vibratory
It started well enough though, two prototypes were built and glider flights were made from a Do 217 carrier aircraft. In unpowered flight the aircraft was promising and seven powered prototypes were built. Unfortunately the pulse jets caused such appalling vibration (as well as being deafeningly loud) that the Me 328 was virtually uncontrollable. The pulse jets were tried fitted to the rear fuselage and under the wings but nothing could stop the shakes, there is an unconfirmed report that one of the prototypes actually vibrated itself apart in flight. Whether or not that actually happened, flights ceased and the programme was effectively over by mid 1944.
Despite the fact that the aircraft was totally unsatisfactory, the Me 328 popped up in countless other proposals right up to the end of hostilities. Me 328s were envisioned to be fired from rails and fired from U-boats and used as a suicide weapon (probably – it is unclear if the pilot was definitely intended to die, it would have been exceptionally difficult to get out). The proposed Me 328C was to be powered by a turbojet which should have cured the vibrations but construction never began.
9. Mcdonnell XF-85 Goblin and Boeing B-29 Superfortress
Trapezes are best left in circuses. They should not be extended from the bomb bay of a B-29. The looped structure under the XF-85 Goblin is its ’emergency’ landing skid – it made seven free flights, landing on the skid on four of them. (USAF photo)
In the Convair B-36 the USAF had a bomber of hitherto unprecedented size. Impressive though it undoubtedly was, doubts were tacitly admitted as to its ability to defend itself even with the prodigious armament of sixteen 20-mm cannon lavishly distributed amongst nose and tail turrets along with six remotely controlled retractable turrets. The B-36 was possessed of such enormous range that a conventional escort fighter would be impractical, however taking along a parasite fighter to chase off any hostile aircraft impertinent enough to attempt an interception was an entirely different matter. Hence the existence of the XF-85 Goblin, by a considerable margin the smallest jet fighter ever to fly.
“Ain’t no fancy golden helmet gonna stop you looking like a jerk in this tin barrel son. Stare into the middle distance long as you like, I ain’t going nowhere” (USAF photo)
Opinions were, and remain, divided as to the practicality of the F-85/B-36 combination. Designed by a team led by Herman D. Barkey, who would later oversee the development of McDonnell’s slightly more successful F-4 Phantom, the tiny McDonnell, despite its comical appearance, was an extremely well executed response to the parasite requirement. Nonetheless its ability to adequately defend its mothership, or even itself, is open to question. The cuddly Goblin first flew some eight months after the rather more imposing MiG-15 and although the XF-85 apparently handled well, its projected top speed was slower than the Soviet aircraft (and the projection turned out to be rather optimistic) and it was armed with a mere four .50 cal machine guns. Furthermore, given that the Goblin’s dimensions were precisely tailored to the size of the B-36 bomb bay development potential was necessarily limited. Having said that, the Goblin’s projected performance was generally up to the standards of the day and the USAF was very keen on the parasite fighter. It was planned at one stage for every tenth B-36 to be a dedicated fighter carrier with provision for three or four Goblins although all B-36s would have the provision to carry at least one.
Goblin mock-up demonstrates the design’s folding wings while the pilot attempts to look serious.
In the absence of a B-36 with trapeze equipment fitted, initial flight tests were to be handled by a suitably modified B-29, nicknamed ‘Monstro’. After a few tests to check the flying characteristics of the combined B-29/XF-85 combination, the Goblin made its first free flight on 23rd August 1948. Released from 20,000 feet, test pilot Edwin Schoch flew the aircraft for about ten minutes before attempting to hook back on to the trapeze. This was expected to be the trickiest aspect of parasite fighter operation and so it proved. Turbulence around the underside of Monstro was more severe than expected and the tiny jet collided hard with the trapeze, smashing the canopy and tearing off Schoch’s oxygen mask and helmet. An observer on the B-29 saw the helmet fall away and thought it was Schoch’s head. He succeeded in landing the aircraft conventionally (with head still attached) though the XF-85 was damaged in the process and seven weeks would elapse while repairs and modifications took place.
Crash bang wallop: at left, the moment of impact as test pilot Schoch smashes into the trapeze, leading to the battered but mostly intact aircraft on the right. Note absence of glass in the canopy frame. (USAF)
Further attempts were a mixed bag. Schoch succeeded in engaging with the trapeze on the second free flight in October 1948. However when the definitive retractable hook was fitted, severe aerodynamic buffeting added to the difficulty of the hooking process. In seven flights the XF-85 managed to re-engage the trapeze on only three occasions. The last (unsuccessful) attempt was made by Schoch in April 1949 and ended with a landing on the skid at Muroc field. The tubby Goblin flew for a total of two hours 19 minutes during its short life and had proved that the concept was at least possible, though apparently difficult. To further muddy the waters, some years later no less a personage than Chuck Yeager stated that he thought the XF-85 a good idea and that the reason for its failure was the lack of flying skill of Edwin Schoch. However poor Schoch was unable to answer this accusation having been killed in a flying accident in 1951. To be fair, over the years Yeager seems to have had an extremely poor opinion of virtually everyone’s flying skill except his own.
It’s tight in there: note pilot’s hand visible through windscreen. Wingtip fins were added in an attempt to improve control and stability when hooking on. (USAF)
McDonnell proposed a swathe of changes to improve the ability of the aircraft to engage the trapeze, most significantly a telescopic trapeze structure extending beyond the turbulent air below the carrier aircraft. But it was not to be, Air Force command, under pressure to curtail spending (as usual), cancelled the XF-85 project citing its relatively modest performance and the high level of pilot skill required to reattach the aircraft to its carrier. This was the end for the egg-like Goblin but did not spell the end of USAF interest in other parasite aircraft, as we shall see…
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8. Scaled Composites SpaceShipOne and White Knight
Whether you like it or not, it is hard to disagree that the SpaceShipOne/White Knight combination is aesthetically ‘striking’. (NASA)
Winner of the $10 million Ansari X prize for for the first non-governmental organisation to launch a reusable crewed spacecraft into space twice within two weeks, SpaceShipOne achieved its design goals in a mere six powered flights. The project was first considered in 1994 and schemed by Burt Rutan at Scaled Composites, the announcement of the Ansari prize the following year adding impetus to its development. However it should be noted that although it did indeed win the $10 million, the whole program cost about $25 million. The project would never have seen the light of day of it weren’t for the support of billionaire and aviation enthusiast Paul Allen who completely funded the project.
Rutan has a history of designing aircraft that feature unusual structures or layouts and the White Knight/SpaceShipOne was no exception. The twin booms, high engine placement, and flattened ‘W’ shape of White Knight are all features epitomising it for its role as a mothership. So far, so strange looking but the real icing on the cake is its crazed forward fuselage design sporting a profusion of small circular windows scattered seemingly at random around its nose. The same forward fuselage design with 16 portholes is shared by both aircraft. The small, thick windows are arranged so as to give a clear view of the horizon in all of the standard flight attitudes and were as large as engineers would allow for the immense pressure differences they would need to handle at the edge of space. This makes perfect sense for SpaceShipOne but why apply the same configuration to White Knight? The answer is twofold, firstly replicating the forward fuselage for both aircraft helped keep costs down. But intriguingly the second reason is that White Knight was designed as a ‘flying simulator’ to act as a training vehicle for SpaceShipOne pilots and be able to mimic the flight characteristics of the spaceplane. The cockpits of the two aircraft are basically identical. Of the tiny windows Doug Shane, the project’s operations director and one of its four test pilots said that “While it’s certainly not the best visibility of any airplane, it’s more than adequateâ€
Not “a half-assed job”. Mike Melvill in SpaceShipOne returns to Earth after its second powered flight.
SpaceShipOne seems to have a more conventional layout than White Knight but it has one particular trick that is not at first apparent in the form of its ability to ‘feather’. This entails the entire rear section of the aircraft swinging upwards, transforming it into an aerodynamically stable shape with very high drag. As such it descends relatively slowly back down to Earth after its short sharp Mach 3 scramble up and out of the atmosphere. Despite the high ground speed, indicated airspeed never exceeds about 270 knots due to the very thin air at the altitudes it travels through – topping out at the Kármán line, internationally regarded as the edge of space, which equates to an altitude of 100 km (or 328000 ft, reflected in SpaceShipOne’s N328KF registration). Perhaps surprisingly, given the nature of most 21st century craft, the spaceplane is manually controlled and there is no autopilot. “If you get in there and do a half-assed job, you’ll go to only 200,000 feet.†said Mike Melvill, one of the other test pilots and the first to take SpaceShipOne to the 100 km design altitude on July 21st 2004.
SpaceShipOne demonstrates its ‘feather’ mode with its pilot, X-Prize winning commercial astronaut Brian Binnie making sure it stays on the ground. (X-Prize photo)
Ultimately SpaceShipOne first achieved its goal and won the prize on October 4th 2004 in the hands of Brian Binnie. further flights were planned but Rutan made the decision not to risk the craft now that it had made history and all future flights were cancelled. SpaceShipOne now resides at the Smithsonian Institute’s National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. and is currently displayed with the Bell X-1 and Linbergh’s transatlantic Ryan NYP. Meanwhile White Knight was utilised as a carrier aircraft for drop tests of Boeing’s unmanned X-37 spaceplane. In 2014 White Knight flew for the last time, to Everett field and retirement as part of Paul Allen’s Flying Heritage Collection. Since then a developed version designed for six passengers and two crew, the imaginatively named SpaceShipTwo, carried by White Knight Two, has been developed. The first example tragically broke up killing one of its two crew in 2014. A second example is undergoing testing at the time of writing.
We sell fantastic high quality aviation-themed gifts hereWhite Knight Two carries SpaceShipTwo aloft. SpaceShipTwo made its first spaceflight in December 2018.
7. Short Mayo Composite: Short S.20 ‘Mercury’ and S.21 ‘Maia’
This view shows the modifications required to transform the Short C-class into the lower half of the composite. The hull was flared outwards to increase buoyancy and engines mounted further away from the fuselage to allow clearance for Mercury’s floats.Imperial Airways were proud of their composite. The cover of the March 1938 issue of the Imperial Airways Gazette shows the first successful separation on February 6th.
Throughout the 1930s, the Atlantic mesmerised airlines. A potentially exceptionally lucrative market, it was known that it could be crossed since 1919, Lindbergh emphatically reinforcing the point in 1927 but it remained tantalising just out of reach, in a practical sense at least, until the very last weeks before war erupted in September 1939. The big problem was that the amount of fuel required to get an aircraft from London to New York for example, was so great that the aircraft could carry no passengers or cargo. In the absence of a suitable aircraft, means were sought to cheat the problem. Imperial Airways spent a great deal of time and effort developing in-flight refuelling (with some success) but also pinned their hopes on parasitism, with this: the Short Mayo Composite.
To be strictly accurate of course, two commercial aircraft had crossed the Atlantic several times with fare-paying passengers aboard in the form of the Graf Zeppelin and Hindenburg. The latter’s fiery demise rather put people off the prospect of crossing the Atlantic suspended under a massive inflammable gasbag however and emphasis shifted to making the journey in a conventional heavier-than-air machine. Lacking an aircraft with sufficient endurance, Robert Mayo, Imperial Airways’ Technical General Manager proposed a system wherein a small, long-range seaplane on top of a larger carrier aircraft, using the combined power of both to bring the smaller aircraft to operational height, at which time the two aircraft would separate, the carrier aircraft returning to base while the other flew on to its destination. The upper component aircraft was not intended to carry passengers but air mail.
The Mayo composite entered British popular culture to an unprecedented degree. Curiously this Dinky toy version is suffering from the great curse of later British airliners – metal fatigue.
The aircraft that emerged was undeniably spectacular, consisting of a fairly heavily modified Short C-Class ‘Empire’ flying boat named ‘Maia’ and designated S.21, and a totally new design, the Short S.20 named ‘Mercury’, the messenger of the Gods – though its not clear that the Romans had the delivery of air mail in mind for him originally. Maia flew first in July 1937 with Mercury following it into the air a couple of months later. The connecting mechanism was ingenious, allowing for limited movement of both components relative to each other. When release was imminent, the flying trim of Mercury could be checked before the pilots released one lock each. The final lock holding the craft together was automatic, releasing Mercury when it achieved 3000 pounds-force (13 Kn). This meant that Mercury was effectively straining upwards and the effect was that on release Maia would tend to drop away whilst Mercury climbed sharply, minimising any chance of collision. The first separation was achieved in February 1938. This was followed up by the first transatlantic flight on July 21st. After the Composite took off from Southampton, Mercury was released over Shannon in Ireland and continued alone to Boucherville, near Montreal in Canada. This represented the first commercial crossing of the Atlantic by a heavier-than-air aircraft. This was followed up by a record-breaking flight of 6,045 miles (9,728 km) from Dundee in Scotland to Alexander Bay in South Africa, between 6 and 8 October 1938. This remains the longest flight ever achieved by a seaplane.
As an obviously spectacular civil project the Mayo Composite was much photographed. It was a success in that it achieved everything that was expected of it but simpler concepts prevailed.
Ultimately aircraft development caught up with the Mayo composite. Although it achieved its design goal with aplomb, it seemed an excessively complicated way to carry 1000 lbs of mail to America. A year to the day after Mercury’s transatlantic flight the Short S.26 G-Class flying boat flew for the first time. The G-Class had non-stop transatlantic ability effectively rendering the Mayo concept obsolete at a stroke. One month later in August 1939 Imperial Airways began a scheduled transatlantic mail service, utilising a regular C-Class flying boat, refuelled in flight to enable it to make the crossing non-stop. Sadly the outbreak of war prevented the G-Class ever seeing service on its designed route and caused the air-refuelled service to cease less than a month after it began. Maia was destroyed by German bombers in Poole Harbour in May 1941 and Mercury was used by 320 Squadron RAF for a time before being broken up for scrap in August 1941. An ignominious end for a briefly glorious seaplane.
6. Rockwell International Space Shuttle Orbiter and Boeing 747 SCA
Endeavour and Shuttle Carrier over the Mojave desert in 2008 (Nasa photo)
Taking parasitism to a new level, the world’s first flying spaceship needed to be tested before being fired into the cosmos. Furthermore since the very beginnings of the project it was known that the shuttle orbiter would have to be ferried from airbase to airbase. Initially the specification required for conventional air-breathing engines to allow the shuttle to fly under its own power in the atmosphere. Unfortunately this was problematic, the orbiter was roughly the same size as a DC-9 but over twice the weight and much less aerodynamic yet could carry far less fuel. With five engines (as opposed to a DC-9’s two) the maximum ferry range considered possible by a self-propelled orbiter was 500 miles, which was not acceptable. An alternative system was sought and coincidentally Robert Salkeld of the System Development Corporation was making presentations around this time on the subject of air-launched fully-reusable spacecraft during which he would show images of the aforementioned Short Mayo composite as an example of a large two-stage aircraft. Nasa had made thousands of unpowered landings with F-104s, and later the X-15 and the Northrop lifting body aircraft, which demonstrated that repeated, accurate landings from high altitude in fast aircraft with small wings were relatively simple. A series of tests with a Convair 990 and B-52 proved that dead stick landings in large aircraft were not only adequately safe and controllable but arguably easier than conventional approaches: on one occasion a Nasa pilot who had never flown a multi-engine aircraft before successfully landed a B-52 unpowered – when tasked with landing the aircraft in a standard shallow-angle powered approach he was unable to do so.
Shuttle Carrier N905NA, here releasing Space Shuttle Enterprise on a glide test, was originally manufactured for American Airlines. Following a drop in passenger numbers, American Airlines sold them to NASA, hence the distinctive American Airlines’ cheatlines on the fuselage. (Nasa)
And so it was decided that the Shuttle Orbiter would glide to landing. To ferry and test the spacecraft a carrier aircraft would be required, Nasa toyed with the idea of a new build aircraft (John Conroy of ‘Guppy’ fame proposed an enormous twin fuselage monster of an aircraft bearing a distinct resemblance to Paul Allen’s Stratolaunch) but time and budgetary considerations compelled Nasa to seek an off-the-peg solution. Only two contenders were seriously considered, the Lockheed C-5 Galaxy and the Boeing 747. The choice fell on the latter after it was discovered in wind tunnel tests that if the C-5 pilot failed to execute the separation manoeuvre perfectly, the Orbiter would tear the tail off the aircraft. As a T-tailed design that would effectively mean the loss of the airframe (and likely the crew as well) as all the rear control surfaces would be removed. The aerodynamics of the 747 naturally aided separation, and even if the worst happened, the 747’s horizontal tail surfaces would be unaffected and the aircraft was known to remain controllable even with a substantial chunk of vertical tail missing.
First flight of the combined 747 and Orbiter took place in February 1977, with the first in-flight separation taking place six months later. This was Space Shuttle Enterprise (OV-101), built purely for atmospheric test and never fitted with engines or a functional heat shield. Five free flights were made from the 747 carrier aircraft followed by many, many captive trips. Since the retirement of the shuttle, Nasa’s shuttle carriers found themselves without a purpose – though N905NA was utilised on one occasion to ferry Boeing’s Phantom Ray UCAV from St. Louis, Missouri, to Edwards Airbase. Both are now retired and preserved.
This is Space Shuttle Endeavour and Shuttle Carrier N905NA on approach to Los Angeles LAX after its final spaceflight. N905NA is now preserved at Space Center Houston, Endeavour at the California Science Center in Los Angeles. Imagine this flying over as you drive to work. (Nasa)
5. Leduc 0.10/0.21 and Sud-Est Languedouc/AAS.01
Leduc 0.10 and its Sud-Est Languedoc carrier aircraft as they appear in the excellent 1951 documentary ‘Renaissance de l’aviation Française’. The fact that the Leduc ramjet was a 1930s design is staggering.
After the war the French aviation industry worked incredibly hard in an ultimately successful attempt to drag itself back up to world standard. There was no shortage of crazy French research types throughout the late forties and fifties, now mostly obscure outside of francophone aviation enthusiast circles. One of the most impressive and successful was the Leduc series of ramjet aircraft. Ramjets are fascinating engines, so simple that they contain no moving parts, yet efficient at supersonic speeds up to about Mach 4. Unfortunately they won’t work at all at standstill and produce negligible thrust until about half the speed of sound. Any ramjet powered flying machine is therefore a great contender to be a parasite aircraft and construction of a French ramjet powered aircraft with a top speed of Mach 0.85 (about 650 mph or 1000 km/h) had begun as early as 1937(!). Amazingly the semi-completed ramjet was kept secret at the Breguet factory and escaped the notice of the German occupiers throughout the war. Work resumed on the radical aircraft in 1945.
Cold Air Sheath anyone? This remarkably bad cutaway does (kind of) show the salient points of the Leduc 0.21. If you look very hard you can see the pilot gamely attempting to ignore the horrifically bent nose whilst trying not to question the reasoning behind his nocturnal flight over Paris.
From some angles it was difficult to believe the Leduc was an aircraft at all. This is the interim Leduc 0.21, as depicted in the cutaway above.First flight of the Leduc was from the mighty AAS.01/He 274, seen here with the SNCASO SO.M1 on its pylon. Later flights were made from the less powerful but more practical Languedoc.
First powered flight occurred on 21st April 1949 over Toulouse. On that occasion the mothership was the remarkable AAS.01, this being in actual fact a prototype of a four-engined derivative of the wartime Heinkel He 177, originally designated He 274. Two prototypes of the He 274 were built by Breguet during the war and were ready for flight testing as Allied forces approached. The order was given by the German authorities to destroy the new aircraft to prevent them falling into enemy hands, however this order was carried out in a less than enthused fashion and both prototypes survived with only minor damage. After the war both were completed to flying status and saw extensive service on various research programmes.
Initial flight tests were encouraging, the Leduc 0.10 flew at 420 mph on its first flight and subsequent tests eventually saw it attain Mach 0.85 which was pretty hot stuff for 1949. The two original Leduc 0.10s (a third was built somewhat later) were not the first ramjet powered aircraft to fly, but they were the first manned aircraft wherein a ramjet was the sole means of propulsion. After this proof of concept, Leduc shifted his attention to the Leduc 0.21, essentially similar to its predecessor but scaled up by around 30%, with tip tanks added to the wings. The new aircraft was still air launched and completed a detailed flight test programme from 1953 to 1956 to develop an automated control system for the ramjet. A total of 284 free flights was made during which the 0.21 reached a top speed of Mach 0.95.
Buoyed by the relative success of his ramjets so far Leduc moved on to the next version, the 0.22. The air-launched Leducs were purely research aircraft but the end result was always intended to be an interceptor. This time the aircraft was not a parasite. It was equipped with a regular turbojet and could take off conventionally and accelerate to a speed whereby the ramjet could function. Unfortunately, although designed for Mach 2, the Leduc had not been area-ruled and was subject to so much transonic drag that it was unable to break the sound barrier. This setback could probably have been overcome with a redesign but the Leduc was cancelled as part of a swathe of government cuts to French aviation projects. French hopes were pinned on the Dassault Mirage III instead – probably correctly as it turned out given the immense success of that aircraft. With no state funding Leduc was forced to wind up the aviation side of his business but happily Rene Leduc’s company is still in operation today producing hydraulic equipment.
4. Project Tip Tow, Tom-Tom, and FICON: Republic F-84 and Boeing B-29/Convair B-36
The B-36 and F-84 combination of FICON was ostensibly operational for about a year in the reconnaissance role. Implementation of the system was described as ‘difficult’. (USAF photo)
After the less than stellar experience gleaned with the XF-85 Goblin parasite fighter one might have assumed the USAF would avoid flirting with further unconventional parasite projects but the concept persisted. Attention shifted from the purpose-built tiny aircraft that could be wholly contained within the fuselage of the carrier aircraft to some means of bringing a conventional fighter aircraft along for the ride.
The focus of initial development was on wingtips. German engineer Dr Richard Vogt had come up with the concept of increasing range by connecting two aircraft at the wingtip and experiments in support of this had been conducted in Germany on two light aircraft during the war. Having emigrated to the US under the auspices of Operation Paperclip Vogt’s concept of wingtip towing provoked interest, initially in the concept of a manned light aircraft acting as a fuel tank for the larger aircraft. Experiments began with a C-47 and a Culver PQ-14, the two aircraft were not able to engage or disengage but were attached by a leather strap that was slack for take off and landing allowing the two aircraft to fly in formation. At altitude the strap was winched in by the C-47 until the wingtips abutted.
Culver PQ-14 flown by Clarence E ‘Bud’ Anderson having successfully coupled in-flight with the C-47. Anderson had flown in the same squadron as Chuck Yeager during the war, coincidentally Yeager was the fourth test pilot to couple the PQ-14 during these tests. (USAF)
Meanwhile it was realised that as well as a fuel tank the wingtip towing system might work with an escort fighter that could attach or detach at will. The B-29 and F-84 were selected as the obvious choices for this application but as no studies had been done on the feasibility of the system the USAF returned to the C-47/PQ-14 pairing for further experiment. In the course of tests flown in 1949 it was found that the little Culver could indeed dock and undock from the C-47’s wingtip but that it was not easy at first. Vortices around the wingtip of the larger aircraft were difficult to overcome and once attached the pull on the Culver’s wingtip constantly tried to roll the aircraft over. Test pilot ‘Bud’ Anderson found he could counteract the rolling tendency by using the elevators (somewhat counter-intuitively) but the rolling issue was a harbinger of things to come. Despite early difficulties Anderson found that with practice coupling and uncoupling the aircraft could be achieved relatively easily, even at night. Not everyone had the same experience, of the nine pilots who ultimately flew these tests, two were unable to achieve contact.
Experience garnered from these experiments suggested that a F-84 Thunderjet/B-29 Superfortress combination was potentially practical. Flight test of suitably modified F-84s and B-29 began in 1950 codenamed Project MX-1016 but more commonly known as Tip-Tow. From the outset this was a more difficult prospect than hooking up the little Culver to a C-47. Wingtip vortices were more severe and the wing of the B-29 proved considerably more flexible than the C-47. Nevertheless, hook-ups and disconnections were demonstrated, first with one fighter and then with a pair, the first hookup of both F-84s with the Superfortress occurred on 15th September 1950.
Not as crazy as many 1950s projects, Tip-Tow was demonstrated to work even though it proved to be catastrophically fatal. (USAF photo)
The pilots of the F-84s found that they could shut off their engines and restart in flight and the whole concept appeared to be feasible, subject to overcoming some teething issues. Chief amongst these was that, just like the Culver attached to the C-47, the Thunderjet pilots had to continually control their aircraft in the tow to prevent them rolling over onto the Superfortress. Republic Aircraft developed an automatic control system to prevent this which was in testing by March 1953. On 24 April 1953, the left-hand F-84 hooked up and the automatic system was switched on. The F-84 immediately flipped over onto the wing of the B-29 and both crashed with loss of all five B-29 crew and the F-84 pilot. The pilot of the right-hand F-84 of the bomber was Bud Anderson but he was able to pull up and away from both aircraft. This accident effectively ended Project MX-1016 but it did not quite spell the end for the wingtip attachment concept.
The USAF had expended time, effort and lives but the B-36 was still just as vulnerable as when they had started and a different parasite concept was now proposed. If the large and slow B-36 were vulnerable, why not have not have it carry a small, fast aircraft to the vicinity of the target and have that deliver a tactical nuclear weapon while the big B-36 aircraft loitered safely out of range of any air defences? This concept came to be known as FICON for FIghter-CONveyor. Once again the F-84 was chosen as the parasite, an F-84E was modified with a nose hook and a B-36 was fitted with a trapeze. Initial tests, once again flown by Bud Anderson, proved that the concept was workable but the F-84, most of which stuck out below the carrier plane, was causing too much drag and compromising range capability. The decision was made to switch to the swept-wing F-84F and to get more of the new aircraft to fit into the bomb bay its tailplane was given extreme anhedral. At the nose the aircraft received the all important hook to achieve recovery. It was a tight squeeze – once loaded into the bomb bay of the B-36 there was only 6 inches of ground clearance and the parasite’s external fuel tank (or atomic weapon).
FICON Republic RF-84K in the National Museum of the United States Air Force. The FICON RF-84s served as conventional reconnaissance aircraft for years after the demise of the FICON programme. Note insane amount of anhedral on the tail. (USAF photo)
Although a possible nuclear strike role remained as an option for the combination, the primary role for the aircraft was now seen as strategic reconnaissance. During 1953, whilst the new parasite was being prepared, the original F-84E and B-36 combination flew simulated reconnaissance missions against Air Force Base targets in the US. USAF fighters were only able to intercept the ‘hostile’ aircraft on two out of six missions and it was concluded that the FICON system had a good chance of successfully penetrating the air defence network of the Soviet Union. The success of these missions and the suspicion that the B-52 (which had first flown in 1952) would soon render the system obsolete added an urgency to the programme and developmental flying continued apace. The ubiquitous Bud Anderson flew the first trapeze tests with a swept wing F-84 and Republic built 25 production RF-84Ks specifically for the FICON role. On December 7th 1955Â the first operational hook-ups of B-36 with parasite RF-84K fighters was achieved. Capt. Bobby Mitchell took off in his RF-84K from Larson AFB and rendezvoused with Maj. Clyde Perry’s crew in their GRB-36D bomber. Mitchell flew his Thunderflash onto the trapeze and Lt. O.C. Rutter raised the RF-84K into the bomb bay. Once safely stowed with the bomb bay doors closed up against the fighter’s fuselage, Mitchell climbed out to greet Rutter. After a cup of coffee with the crew, Mitchell climbed back into his fighter, was lowered, restarted his engines and flew off. A couple of hours later, Lt. Walter Rudd became the second parasite pilot to hook up and detach. Before releasing the second fighter, the GRB-36D made a low pass over Larson AFB and Maj. Oscar L. Fitzhenry, the 348th BS operations officer, was quoted as saying, “Results proved to be above and beyond our greatest expectations.” Perhaps. In reality hookups with the carrier aircraft proved challenging for experienced test pilots under ideal conditions. In combat or in adverse weather, by regular service pilots, they proved extremely difficult and several RF-84Ks were damaged attempting the manoeuvre. Operations were maintained for a year or so but the success of both air-refuelled B-52s and the U-2 in the nuclear strike and reconnaissance roles respectively doomed the obsolescent B-36 and FICON was consigned to history.
Not sure who they were selling it to exactly but this glorious Convair FICON advert is pleasingly economical with the truth. ‘The most effective and versatile aerial weapon in history’ Hmmm.
Bizarrely, whilst FICON development was in full swing, it was decided to have a look at wingtip-towing again. One of the FICON B-36s was suitably modified for towing swept wing RF-84Fs using a claw system. As before, wingtip vortices made hooking up difficult and the procedure was just as problematic as ever. Eventually on September 23rd 1956 test pilot Beryl Erickson made contact with the wing tip of the JRB-36F with a small angle of yaw. Immediately, his Thunderflash started to pitch up and down violently. There was no emergency method to sever the connection between the aircraft, so the RF-84F ultimately tore the wingtip clean off the larger aircraft, part of the JRB-36F scissors mechanism remaining firmly clamped in the jaws of the Thunderflash’s claw. No one was hurt but this incident predictably ended Project Tom-Tom flight tests.
Project Tom-Tom utilised a claw method to fulfil the same function as Project Tip-Tow. The results were identical, though mercifully not fatal this time. (Lockheed Martin photo)
3. Curtiss F9C Sparrowhawk and USS Macon and Akron
A Sparrowhawk hooks onto USS Macon’s trapeze. The horseshoe shaped object at the left will swing down on its arm to steady the rear fuselage, before the aircraft is pulled up into Macon’s hangar. (USN)
The US Navy stuck with the large rigid airship as a potential instrument of war long after other major powers had abandoned these giants as impractical and dangerous. At least, as the world’s sole major producer of helium, the American airships were an order of magnitude less flammable than their European equivalents. The fantastic endurance possible with a large airship operating in a scouting role was attractive but the vulnerability of such a massive and relatively slow vehicle could not be overlooked. It was schemed that the airship would not directly reconnoitre anything of interest but stand off at a safe distance and despatch conventional aircraft to investigate more closely. Following successful trials with a Vought UO-1 and the Zeppelin-built USS Los Angeles, the trapeze system for launching and recovering aircraft in flight was fitted to the Navy’s two newest dirigibles USS Akron and the slightly later Macon. The aircraft ultimately employed for the task, the Curtiss F9C, was a pre-existing design that Curtiss had developed in response to a requirement for a lightweight carrier fighter. The original requirement was abandoned, though the Curtiss had been adjudged the best of the three designs submitted for test and thus when the new requirement for a similar aircraft for airship use came about, with an emphasis (for obvious reasons) on small size and low weight, the Curtiss fighter fitted the bill more or less off-the-shelf. Or at least up to a point, the F9C was advanced in that it was Curtiss’s first aircraft to feature a metal monocoque fuselage as well as stamped aluminium wing ribs but it was hardly suited for the observation role it was ostensibly tasked with. The pilot had a hell of a lot to keep him occupied, ‘normal’ 1930s reconnaissance aircraft took along a second crewman as an observer and operate the radio but no room for him in the Sparrowhawk. The tiny cockpit had nowhere convenient to put the radio morse key, and where it ended up made its use awkward. There was no room at all for the navigation/scouting board, so it was mounted on the control column. Interestingly the F9C retained its carrier capability, an arrestor hook could be fitted and on at least one occasion the Sparrowhawks flew down from their unique aerial aircraft carrier to land on the conventional nautical aircraft carrier USS Lexington. Ultimately eight would be built including two prototypes. All would see service from the flying aircraft carriers, with brief but considerable success.
The immense size discrepancy between the airship and its fighters is vividly displayed by USS Macon and two of her Sparrowhawks approaching the trapeze. A mere 40 feet shorter than the Hindenburg, Macon and Akron remain the largest flying objects ever built in the USA. (USN)
First of the dirigibles to fly in September 1931 was USS Akron which could carry three of the diminutive parasite Sparrowhawks. As first flown however, neither Akron’s trapeze system nor her aircraft were ready and it would be a full seven months before she could boast her full complement of scouting aircraft and the crew to fly them. By then the necessity for her aircraft had became painfully obvious. In January 1932 Akron failed to find an “enemy” flotilla during an exercise, embarrassingly (though unsurprisingly perhaps) the massive airship was herself spotted by two destroyers within the force she was unable to find. The first F9C hooked on to Akron’s trapeze in May 1932 but she was again aircraft-less when she participated in June’s Pacific fleet exercises. Akron at least managed to sight the ships she was scouting for this time but was immediately intercepted by 13 carrier aircraft. Her commander Charles E Rosendahl gamely stating that it was “perfectly apparent” the Sparrowhawks would have fended off their attackers had they been aboard. Over the next few months launching and recovery operations from Akron’s trapeze were perfected but time was not on their side as Akron was lost in a thunderstorm less than a year later on April 3 1933. Tragically only three men survived from the crew of 84.
The amusing badge sported by the Sparrowhawks of USS Macon delights in its trapeze imagery. Higher command disapproved however and these were removed from the aircraft for their last few months of operations.
Barely a fortnight later USS Macon emerged from her hangar for the first time. Modified with experience gained from the Akron she was a notably more successful ship capable of carrying five Sparrowhawks as opposed to the earlier airship’s three. Over the next two years the Macon and her Sparrowhawks would be kept busy, developing the art of operating from the trapeze and eventually becoming a well-honed and efficient scouting platform. In the course of these operations it was realised that the aircraft did not require their landing gear so it was removed and replaced with an external fuel tank, allowing a 30% increase in range. Her greatest moment occurred in July 1934 when Lieutenant Commander Herbert Wiley, one of the three survivors of the Akron crash, took the Macon on an unauthorised jaunt to show his superiors what she was capable of. Wiley knew that President Franklin Roosevelt was due to be travelling from Panama to Hawaii aboard the heavy cruiser Houston with a second cruiser as escort. With nothing more than newspaper reports to go on, he calculated an intercept course from Moffett Field, California (named incidentally, after Admiral Moffett who had lost his life in the Akron disaster) based on his estimate of the Houston’s course and speed and set off to prove the value of the airship as a strategic scouting platform. At 10am the next day Wiley believed they should be at the correct position to effect an interception and launched two Sparrowhawks. Sure enough, just before noon, the aircraft found the President’s ships.
A blurry image but this is one of relatively few known photos showing a Sparrowhawk after its undercarriage had been removed. (USN)
On board the Houston, confusion reigned as to where these small aircraft had come from as all US carriers were known to be in the Atlantic at that time. Confusion briefly turned to fear as some observers mistook the Sparrowhawk’s belly fuel tank for a bomb. But more knowledgeable heads pointed out the telltale ‘skyhooks’ mounted on the top wings of the mystery aircraft. After returning to the Macon, the Sparrowhawks flew low over the Houston and dropped the latest newspapers from San Fransisco as well as stamps franked with a special Macon cachet – Wiley knew Roosevelt was an avid stamp collector. “The president compliments you and your planes on your fine performance and excellent navigation” radioed the Houston. Navy top brass were less thrilled by Wiley’s failure to reveal the true nature of the trip and the fact that Macon had been out of communication for many hours. Disciplinary action was threatened but ultimately called off, allegedly after the intervention of Roosevelt himself. Buoyed by his success, Wiley was eager for the Fleet manoeuvres set for Spring 1935, training in air operations had been intense and the Macon was now fitted with a radio homing beacon allowing the Sparrowhawks to return to the airship no matter what course they or it followed after launch. This feature made it the first, and to date only, genuinely effective airborne aircraft carrier. It was arguably the finest very-long-range airborne early warning system of the pre-radar age and Wiley was keen to prove his ship’s true worth.
In-flight retrieval of the Sparrowhawks was acknowledged to be difficult. However, no serious mishaps befell any of the eight built while operating from the airships. (USN)
However it wasn’t to be, the Macon had suffered damage in severe turbulence over Texas in April 1934. Temporary repairs had been made but never completed and when she was caught in gusty conditions over the Pacific in February 1935 an ill-defined report of damage in the area where the repairs had not been completed led Wiley to order ballast to be dropped and the engines throttled to idle. Either too much ballast was dropped or the engines were delayed in idling as the Macon shot up above her ‘pressure height’ (the altitude at which the gasbags start to automatically vent helium through emergency valves to prevent from rupturing). She remained above pressure height for a full sixteen minutes, venting helium until the inevitable happened – too much gas was lost to sustain flight and the huge Macon plunged, relatively slowly, but uncontrollably, into the water, taking four Sparrowhawks with her. Lessons had been learned since the loss of the Akron, Macon carried lifejackets and rafts both of which had been absent from Akron, and only two of the 83 men on board lost their lives. Herbert Wiley had now survived the loss of both the US Navy’s most advanced airships. Sadly, there was no longer an appetite to replace such a costly behemoth as the USS Macon and the world’s only flying aircraft carrier was consigned to history.
2. North American X-15 and Boeing NB-52
Less than a second after release, the X-15 drops away from its NB-52 mothership (the ‘N’ stands for NASA). Every photo taken of X-15 operations looks utterly terrifying. (NASA photo)
Most of the US X-planes were parasites and the most exciting of the lot was the X-15. Back in 1947, Chuck Yeager flew the X-1 past the speed of sound and into the history books. Back then Yeager had the luxury of being able to hang out in the relative comfort of the B-29 mothership until they were high enough to begin his flight, then he just had to climb into the X-1, close the door and whizz off into the wild blue yonder. Ten years and 3000 mph later the X-15 was too big to be crammed into a fuselage, even in the cavernous bomb bay of a Stratofortress. The X-15 pilot had to sit in his restrictive pressure suit in the tiny cockpit of the X-15, slung under the wing of the NB-52, from before take off all the way up to release altitude.
When the chase plane is an F-104 chances are whatever it’s chasing is very fast indeed. However, the lack of exterior frost on this particular X-15 belies the fact there’s no fuel on board and that this was an unpowered test. (NASA photo)
The X-15 flights may have taken place over fifty years ago but they are still incredible. In 199 flights over just under ten years it repeatedly exceeded height and speed records and remains the fastest manned aircraft ever flown (Mach 6.7 which equates to 4520 mph (7274 km/h) or a shade over 2 km per second). On two occasions it exceeded the Kármán line, 100 km up, and as such is generally considered to have entered outer space. The NB-52 that launched nearly all these tests was possessed of some interesting superlatives too. NB-52 ‘Balls 8’ was built in 1955 as an RB-52 reconnaissance model and was acquired by NASA in 1959 specifically for X-15 mothership use. Fitted with a pylon between the fuselage and engine pod, Balls 8 was subsequently employed on many other projects, particular highlights being the hypersonic X-43, various lifting bodies such as the X-24 and Pegasus, a rocket capable of taking a payload from the NB-52 to low Earth orbit. Balls 8 was eventually retired on 17 December 2004 (101 years to the day after the Wright Brothers’s first flight) at which point it was the oldest active B-52 in service and the only active B-52 still flying that wasn’t an H model. Somewhat counterintuitively it also had the lowest total airframe time of any operational B-52. It is now on public display at Edwards AFB.
Who’s this cool customer? He made the longest duration X-15 flight ever (12 minutes) but he’s more famous for his adventures in a different vehicle. That’s right: it’s everyone’s favourite purveyor of small leaps and giant steps, Neil Armstrong. I guess the X-15 represented one medium leap for mankind. (NASA)
The X-15 programme was extremely successful and unusually safe considering the extreme nature of the flight regime it was exploring. But there were accidents, one X-15 broke its back on landing, another rolled on landing, leading to crushed vertebrae for its pilot John McKay. Worst of all was Flight 191. Due to the aircraft yawing in the extremely thin air at 266,000 feet (82 km), the X-15 ended up entering denser air at lower altitudes whilst at right angles to its direction of flight. At 230,000 feet the aircraft entered a Mach 5 spin. Despite managing to recover from the spin at 118,000 ft pilot Michael Adams found himself hurtling downwards, upside down, at over four times the speed of sound. It should have been a relatively simple matter for Adams to roll the aircraft back to normal and effect a landing but a fault in the X-15s control system led to the aircraft pitching up and down wildly, pulling 15G with each oscillation. The aircraft disintegrated 10 minutes, 35 seconds after launch, killing Adams.
NB-52 ‘Balls 8’ at altitude before dropping a fully fuelled X-15. Note the white patches on the fuselage where ice has formed on the liquid oxygen tanks. (NASA)
The accident completely changed the attitude of both the Air force and NASA to the X-15 and despite both parties agreeing to finance further tests throughout 1968, only another eight flights would be made. The potential benefits of X-15 flights were no longer considered worth the high cost and considerable risk and the final flight was made by Bill Dana in October 1968. Thus ended the flying career of the most spectacular parasite aircraft in history. Never again would a research aircraft be this thrilling.
1. ‘Звено’ SPB: Polikarpov I-16 and Tupolev TB-3
The TB-3/I-16 Zveno-SPB remains the only manned parasite combination to be used in combat. It was surprisingly successful.
In July 1941 an oil depot in the Romanian town of Constanţa was dive-bombed by Polikarpov I-16s. Not in itself, one would think, a particularly surprising act given that the war on the Russian Front had begun in the previous month. However this particular raid caused considerable confusion amongst the Germans and Romanians who witnessed it. Constanţa was well beyond the range of a Polikarpov I-16, let alone one loaded down with bombs, so where had these fighters come from?
The answer of course was that they had been carried there under the wings of a mothership. They were the parasitic attacking component of the ‘Sostavnoi Pikiruyuschiy Bombardirovschik’Â (‘Combined Dive Bomber’), and were the ultimate expression of a concept called the ‘Zveno’ (‘Link’) or ‘Aviamatka’ (Aerial Mothership). The Zveno was the brainchild of Vladimir Vakhmistrov, engineer and occasional test pilot of the Soviet Air force test institute (the NII VVS). He had worked on the concept for a decade before the beginning of hostilities and now was its time to shine.
The first iteration of Vakhmistrov’s Zveno concept featured a Tupolev TB-1 bomber and two Tupolev I-4 fighters.The method for getting the parasites onto the wing of the TB-1 was simple but effective: shove them up a ramp.
Vakhmistrov had specified four potential applications for his Zveno concept, the delivery of fighters beyond their conventional range, providing bombers with escort fighters all the way to and from the target, the ability to equip fighter-bombers with heavier bombs than they would be able to take off with on their own, and the simple expedient of using the added thrust of parasite aircraft to get a heavily laden bomber into the air. Initial experiments involved a twin engine TB-1 bomber and two I-4 parasol monoplane fighters. The I-4 was normally a biplane but for Zveno use the bottom wing was removed in order to clear the TB-1’s propellors, with apparently no discernible change in performance or handling. First flight of this combination ‘Zveno-1’ occurred 3 December 1931 with the I-4s piloted by A. F. Anisimov and a pre-fame Valery Chkalov, who would later attain something akin to superstardom for his test piloting exploits in the mid-thirties. Vakhmistrov himself directed proceedings from the front turret of the bomber. An error in the sequence of releasing the parasites by the bomber crew resulted in one of the fighters prematurely separating and the other remained firmly locked to the wing. However the TB-1 and attached I-4 remained in controlled flight and the second fighter was soon released without further incident. Later, release control would be handled by the pilots of the parasites, normal procedure being to release the tail lock first so that the aircraft came under the control of the pilot, then pull back on the stick to separate completely from the TB-1.
The world’s first docking between two fixed wing aircraft in flight was accomplished with ‘Zveno-5’, comprising a TB-3 and a Grigorovich I-Z. This procedure has hardly become commonplace however, which is something of a shame.
With the concept proved to be workable, Vakhmistrov set about testing various combinations of aircraft and theorising operational uses for his Zveno. Early experimentation was largely concerned with discerning which aircraft types were best suited to the system and maximising the amount of aircraft that could be connected. A TB-1 with the somewhat more potent Polikarpov I-5 as the parasites flew in 1933 designated Zveno-1a. More radical was Zveno-2 which added a third I-5 over the fuselage, this time to a four engine Tupolev TB-3. As with Zveno-1, the addition of the extra thrust of the added aircraft more than overcame any drag or weight penalties they incurred and performance was actually enhanced over a conventional TB-3. Fitting the I-5s to the wings was a relatively simple affair utilising ramps and muscle power but attaching the central Polikarpov onto its mounting was an order of magnitude more difficult. Rather than going through the rigmarole of getting it into position the I-5 was just locked in place, acting as a fifth engine for the TB-1. Eventually the wings and tail were removed and the Polikarpov fuselage acted solely as an engine nacelle, albeit one with a ‘pilot’ on board to operate the engine controls.
Zveno-3 reversed the overwing approach taken so far and fitted two parasites under the wings of the TB-3, these being Grigorovich I-Z monoplanes. The I-Z was itself an interesting design in its own right, being a fighter fitted with two single-shot 76.2-mm (3 inch) recoilless cannon though these were removed for the Zveno trials. Despite being a monoplane, the fixed undercarriage I-Z possessed extremely limited ground clearance under the wing of the TB-3. This problem led to an unfortunately cumbersome system of operation wherein the wheels of the parasites and TB-3 all rested on the ground – the parasite mounting permitted vertical movement of the two underwing fighters relative to the TB-3 so that they could roll over uneven ground on take off. Once airborne, the parasites were to lock their respective mountings in a fixed position for flight; if the parasites were not rigid in flight, the bomber became extremely difficult to control. This unfortunately led to the only serious accident of the whole Zveno project when I-Z pilot Korotkov incorrectly timed the locking manoeuvre, broke the docking frame and crashed into the underside of the TB-3’s wing. As the bomber came in for an emergency landing with both fighters still attached, the slow landing speed of the TB-3 fell below the stalling speed of the I-Z, which fell away, killing Korotkov.
This accident was in contrast to the general success of the Zvenos so far and Vakhmistrov started looking at the possibility of re-docking the parasites in flight. It was felt that turbulence above the mothership would probably be severe and that a ventral trapeze would be the best approach for attempting the first in-flight attachment. This time the position of the trapeze precluded a conjoined take off so the two aircraft flew to altitude separately. On 23 March 1935, the TB-3 and I-Z performed the world’s first mid-air docking between two fixed wing aircraft to become Zveno-5.
Poor but genuine photo of the six-plane ‘Aviatmaka’, two I-5s, two I-16s, an I-Z and the TB-3 mothership. Although successful there is something faintly crazy about the whole thing. The combination was unofficially nicknamed ‘Vakhmistrov’s Circus’.
Attention had now shifted to an exciting new fighter, the Polikarpov I-16. The world’s first low-wing, retractable undercarriage, cantilever monoplane fighter was somewhat beyond the state-of-the-art in military aircraft design of the early thirties. One feature in particular lent itself to Zveno use: retractable undercarriage. When mounted under the wings of the TB-3 with gear up, the I-16 offered sufficient ground clearance to do away with the unwieldy attachment of the I-Zs. Vakhmistrov set to immediately with Zveno-6 which mounted two I-16s under the wings. Despite the groundwork of Zveno-5, these were not able to reattach in flight but the developed Zveno-6 featured a retractable trapeze under each wing onto which the I-16s could attach or detach at will. The procedure, whilst demonstrated to be possible, was deemed too difficult for service use however.
Final fling of Vakhmistrov’s pre-war experiments was the ‘Aviamatka’ which appeared in public carrying five parasites, the lower component of which could attach or detach at will. Vakhmistrov’s plan was for one TB-3 to be accompanied by eight I-16 parasites as a form of long-range airborne patrol craft. The parasites would never all hook on at once but rotate, attaching or detaching as required. They could also take on fuel from the mothership. Although some tests were carried out in support of this concept, including in flight fuel transfer, the full eight-parasite composite never saw the light of day. The Aviamatka was seen as simply too cumbersome to be effective. Despite this, interest in a simpler twin-parasite I-16 carrier to function as a composite bomber continued, especially from the Navy. Ultimately only six operational Zveno-SPB’s comprising six TB-3s with twelve I-16s were delivered, forming the 2nd ‘Special’ Squadron attached to the 32nd IAP (Fighter Regiment) of the 62nd Aviation Brigade of the Black Sea Fleet. They were stationed in Crimea.
Pictured with two 250 kg bombs, more than double its normal bombload as a conventional fighter-bomber, the diminutive I-16 mated to the TB-3 vindicated the Zveno concept in action. Further development did not arise.
In the opening stages of the Great Patriotic War, the Black Sea Fleet Air Force was tasked with destroying industrial targets in Romania. The most important of these was the King Carol I bridge over the Danube which carried the Ploiești-Constanţa oil pipeline from the oilfield at Ploiești and was critical for the Axis war effort. After several attempts to destroy the heavily defended bridge with conventional bombers, the target was given to the Zveno-SPB squadron though as a combat test, it was decided to attack the oil depot first. On 26th July 1941, two Zveno-SPB aircraft performed a textbook attack on the depot in daylight with no losses. The fighters disconnected 40 km (25 miles) from the target and returned home under their own power. After this convincing demonstration, two raids on the bridge were flown, on the first the parasites successfully dive-bombed from an altitude of 1800 m (5,900 ft) and again returned home with no losses despite heavy anti-aircraft fire. The second raid took place on the 13th August 1941. Three Zveno-SPBs approached the target and the six fighters scored five direct hits on the bridge, completely destroying one of its spans. On the way back, the fighters strafed Romanian infantry and once again suffered no losses.
It is not known how many missions were flown in total but it was probably around 30. As well as severing the oil pipeline, Zveno-SPBs were responsible for destroying a dry dock in ConstanÅ£a and a bridge across the Dnieper. This garnered some attention at high level as Soviet forces in general (and the air force in particular) were on the back foot in the first months following the launch of Operation Barbarossa. The main obstacle to getting more Zvenos into the air was the lack of TB-3s available fitted with the Mikulin AM-34FRN engine, variants with other motors not being sufficiently powerful to carry the bombed up I-16s. Admiral Kuznetsov asked Stalin for additional AM-34FRN-engined TB-3s from the Air Force so they could be converted to Zveno-SPB carriers but the request was denied. Aircraft losses were so great at this early stage of the war that the Air Force needed every conventional aircraft it could lay its hands on. The success of the Zveno-SPBs was acknowledged but it was undeniably a complex system and seen as a luxury the Soviets could ill-afford at this stage in the war. Operations continued into 1942 but by then it was becoming apparent that both the I-16 and especially the lumbering TB-3 were too vulnerable in the face of German numerical and technical air superiority and the briefly effective fighting career of Vakhmistrov’s incredible creation was over.
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From the cocaine, blood and flying scarves of World War One dogfighting to the dark arts of modern air combat, here is an enthralling ode to these brutally exciting killing machines.
The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes is a beautifully designed, highly visual, collection of the best articles from the fascinating world of military aviation –hand-picked from the highly acclaimed Hush-kit online magazine (and mixed with a heavy punch of new exclusive material). It is packed with a feast of material, ranging from interviews with fighter pilots (including the English Electric Lightning, stealthy F-35B and Mach 3 MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’), to wicked satire, expert historical analysis, top 10s and all manner of things aeronautical, from the site described as:
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Fairchild AU-23A Armed Pilatus Turbo-Porter 72-3 Janes – Sufficient put into service to not be relevant.
*Pave Coin Beech A36 Bonanza Janes 72-3. Other aircraft included the Piper PE1 Enforcer (turbine Mustang) – Janes 81-2, AU-23 and 24 (above), Cessna O-1, U-17 and O-2 and Cessna A-37.
Commander Nigel David ‘Sharkey’ Ward, DSC, AFC  is a retired British Royal Navy officer who commanded 801 Naval Air Squadron during the Falklands War. We asked him his view on British air operations during the 1982 war in which he fought.Â
If you could have changed one thing about British air operations in the Falklands what would it have been?
“There are two subjects that continue to leave a bad taste in my mouth.
One is the completely disingenuous propaganda campaign conducted by the Royal Air Force immediately after the war which sadly persuaded the gullible British public that they, the RAF alone, had won the air war over the Falklands. The full story of this deception and attempt to rewrite history is told in detail in my new book, soon to be published.
Suffice it to say here that the Sea Harriers of the Fleet Air Arm conducted 1,500 war missions over the Islands. The small detachment of RAF ground attack Harriers in HMS Hermes flew about 150 sorties of which less than half were combat oriented. All the air to air combat kills were achieved by naval aircraft (indeed, it is worthy of note that all air to air kills by British forces since 1948 have been achieved by naval aircraft – not one by RAF aircraft – and yet they claim they won the air war in Operation Corporate, the Falklands war).
Adding insult to injury, the propaganda campaign glorified the small but extremely expensive part that RAF Vulcan bombers played in the conflict. The real facts are that of the 63 bombs dropped by the Vulcan in three missions against Port Stanley runway, only one bomb was on target and that only damaged the side of the runway which was repaired on the same day. The four other Vulcan missions delivering anti-radar missiles only managed to hit one small radar emitter, that of a radar-controlled anti-aircraft gun on the outskirts of Port Stanley. These seven missions had no material effect whatsoever on the course of the Falklands conflict. To claim otherwise is wishful thinking.
The suggestion that the Nimrod aircraft played any effective part at all in or near the combat zone is also facetious propaganda.
The second ‘bad taste’ is an in-house naval affair.
HMS invincible had been formally given the responsibility of Anti-Air Warfare Control (AAWC) ship which principally meant having full and direct control over all Sea Harrier assets, including those in HMS Hermes, for Combat Air Patrol (CAP) duties on the outer ring of Task Force air defence. The AAWC established three permanent CAP Stations to the South-West, the West and the North-West of the San Carlos beachhead. Invincible’s instructions to the Sea Harrier air groups onboard each carrier were very clear. Each station had to be manned by a pair of Sea Harriers who would have to conduct their patrol at low level, thereby providing an up-threat barrier against incoming Argentine attack aircraft. HMS Hermes, the flagship, had 50% more Sea Harriers than Invincible and these were needed to ensure a complete and secure barrier against incoming threat aircraft.
What happened? Without informing Invincible, the Flagship ignored the AAWC and instructed their Sea Harrier CAP aircraft to station themselves directly above San Carlos Water at 20,000 feet.
This provided no deterrence at all to attacking aircraft. Low-level CAP Stations were left empty and through these empty stations came the enemy fighter bombers and delivered their attacks against beachhead units and forces. As a direct result, several warships were attacked and disabled or sunk: including HMS Ardent and HMS Coventry. After releasing their weapons and as they left the beachhead area, more than a few Argentine aircraft were destroyed by the overhead CAP aircraft – but it was “after the horse had bolted†and at the unnecessary cost of many brave lives and several ships. The loss of HMS Sheffield in the open ocean was also a direct result of the Flagship re-tasking CAP aircraft from the air defence barrier to search for surface contacts, again without any ‘by your leave’ to Invincible. An Étendard aircraft penetrated the empty CAP station and delivered its deadly Exocet attack.
Despite all this Flagship interference, 801 Squadron low-level CAP aircraft managed to turn away more than 450 Argentine attack missions. Without this success, the war could well have been lost.” What was the biggest mistake of the Royal Navy?
“Bearing in mind that this round of Hush-Kit interviews relates to Operation Corporate and retaking the Falkland Islands, I find this question rather odd and misleading.
When Argentina invaded South Georgia and the Falklands, the firm response (to Maggie Thatcher in the hastily convened War Room) from the Chief of the Air Staff and the Chief of the General Staff was that the Air Force and the Army were powerless to intervene. The then Defence Secretary, John Nott, who was a rabid critic of maritime power (about which he knew nothing) immediately tried to prevent the Prime Minister from listening to the Chief of the Naval Staff and First Sea Lord, Admiral Sir Henry Leach. Nott was overruled and Sir Henry informed Mrs Thatcher, “Yes, Prime Minister. I can assemble a Task Force forthwith and retake the Falklands.†Delighted, she told Sir Henry to make it so.
That was how Operation Corporate was born.
Admiral Sir John Fieldhouse, Commander-in-Chief Fleet was appointed Task Force Commander and Royal Marine Major-General Jeremy Moore was appointed Land Forces Commander. He in turn appointed Brigadier-General Julian Thompson as Amphibious Brigade Commander. Sir John Fieldhouse appointed Rear-Admiral Sandy Woodward, then Flag Officer Mediterranean, as Commander Carrier Battle Group and Commodore Mike Clapp as Commander Amphibious Group. The Naval Service therefore provided all the Commanders of the Task Force elements (the Royal Marines, of course, being part of that Naval Service). By their own admission, the RAF could not provide any combat aircraft in support of the Task Force.
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In four short days, the Naval Task Force was gathered, provisioned, armed and the Carrier Battle Group with 20 Sea Harriers embarked in HMS Hermes and HMS Invincible set sail for the South Atlantic amidst huge patriotic fervour. Two days before sailing, Air Vice Marshal “Blue Rinse†Menaul appeared on public television and stated categorically that the Task Force would fail ‘because it had no fighter air defence capability’! How wrong he was!
In relation to the Falklands War, the Royal Navy made no big mistake. They and the Amphibious Brigade land forces contrived and achieved a remarkable victory against all odds. The only major failure was that of the Royal Air Force who, despite their earlier outrageous claims to Ministers, were unable to provide the Task Force with any air defence or antisubmarine capability en route to the conflict or during combat operations. They have not yet been held accountable for this abysmal failure.
My new book attempts to rectify this.”
What is the greatest myth about air combat in the Falklands?
“Without banging the drum too much, the greatest myth about air combat in the Falklands is that generated by the RAF propaganda campaign post the conflict. They proclaimed loudly and strongly to the British public that the Royal Air Force had won the air war over the Islands and, thanks to the extraordinary silence of the Naval Staff, they were allowed to get away with it.
They managed to convince the British public through disingenuous inference and innuendo that the fighter combat that took place over the Islands was at the hands of the RAF. The very existence of the Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm and Carrier air power was neither mentioned nor alluded to. And yet, clearly, it was carrier-borne Sea Harrier fighter aircraft and Royal Navy surface warships which won the day.
This was a disgraceful attempt to rewrite history and, because it was believed by gullible ministers and civil servants, resulted in a severe and misguided decline in investment in true maritime/Fleet power that may well come to haunt us in the near future. China’s claims over the South China Sea, through which much of our trade passes, will soon reach critical mass. We and our allies need to be able to contain China’s territorial aggrandizement. If we do not wish to become embroiled in a fighting war, we and our allies need to be able to deter this emerging military giant.
Our other interviews with Sharkey Ward are here and here
Deterrence through visible strength is the key to maintaining an acceptable peace.
And so the media, the Secretary of State, the House of Commons Defence Committee and our politicians should now be asking the question:
‘Following the investment of hundreds of billions of pounds sterling in land-based combat aircraft and supporting units over the past four decades, what can the RAF do in the South China Sea to deter the power grab by China?’
One or two Typhoon fighters supported by a £1 billion Voyager tanker flying out of Singapore on short range missions cannot by any stretch of the imagination be considered an effective 24/7 show of force. Only well-armed fleets at sea can deter or effectively counter this sinister Chinese initiative.”
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Ekranoplans are among the most extraordinary machines ever built. The Soviet KM remained the largest aircraft in the world during the entirety of its existence. It was 20 metres longer than a Boeing 747, weighed over a million pounds and flew faster than a Spitfire just above the surface of water. Ever when Ekranoplans or ‘wing-in ground-effect’ vehicles are not warlike giants they are unique. Here’s an explanation of how they work, and perhaps why the big breakthrough has not yet happened.
By Jim Smith What is an Ekranoplan? Well, Ekranoplan is the Russian term for a class of air vehicle otherwise known as a Wing-in-Ground-Effect craft, or WIGE.
The best-known example of an Ekranoplan is the Caspian Sea Monster, otherwise more properly known as the Central Hydrofoil Design Bureau KM, a very large WIGE weighing 240 tonnes empty, and up to 500 tonnes at maximum weight. The KM could cruise at up to 230 knots and was designed to operate at about 10 m above the surface of the water. The envisaged role was as a high-speed, high-payload, troop or equipment carrier, flying below radar detection over the sea.
So, let’s unpack Wing-in-Ground-Effect craft, to explain their operating principles, and from there, discuss their potential applications, and some of the issues that may affect their operation.
Wing Lift and Downwash
A conventional lifting wing can be thought of as generating lift through circulation about the wing, the circulation being shed at the wing tips as trailing vortices. These are the familiar vortices, often seen behind manoeuvring aircraft, but also visible as part-span vortices trailing from flaps, because of the change in circulation at the end of the flap. The circulation is generated as a result of the shape of the aerofoil, its camber and its angle to the airflow.
If we want to consider a simple representation of a lifting wing, we can represent this as a ‘bound’ vortex, lying across the span, with trailing vortices at the wing tips (this is called a lifting-line representation by aerodynamicists). In a steady flow, this representation will result in additional local air speed above the wing, and reduced speed below, and the pressure difference between the two surfaces of the wing will generate lift. Considering this model a little more, we can see that a lifting wing will generate an upwash ahead of the leading edge and outside the wing tips, and a downwash behind the wing, and between the trailing vortices.
This is a simplified representation is valid for low-speed flows without considering air viscosity. However, despite this, the model works surprisingly well, in describing the flow about a lifting wing.
Incidentally, the upwash outside the wing tips is why migrating geese travel in large V-shaped formations – each bird is exploiting the upwash outside the wing tip of the neighbouring bird ahead of it, reducing the energy it needs for flight. Ground Effect
Pilots and their passengers are familiar with ground effect as a cushioning influence felt as the aircraft flares for touchdown. From a flow perspective, the ground or sea surface acts like a mirror. As the aircraft approaches the ground, the flow around it is changed because the downwash generated by the aircraft is modified.
Mathematically, this can be represented by introducing a mirror image of the aircraft into the flow, with the ground surface acting as the mirror. The equal and opposite influence of the mirror image aircraft increases as the physical aircraft and its virtual mirror image near the ground. The aircraft experiences greater lift, and less drag than in its usual free-air flying conditions.
This results in the ‘float’ experienced by the pilot as the aircraft nears the ground. Normally, at least for light aircraft pilots, this is not a problem, and generally increases the pilot and passengers satisfaction with the flight. But if you have a large wing-span, like a sailplane or a U-2, ground effect can be a real issue – hence the need for spoilers, brake chutes and so on.
For civil transports, float is not good either, as it increases field length required, and can be particularly dangerous in wet conditions. A very gentle touchdown for an airliner will not only have used more runway than necessary, it can, in wet conditions, cause the aircraft to aquaplane, reducing braking action and dramatically increasing landing distance. Hence the desirable airliner landing is actually ‘firm’, and will be followed by the use of spoilers, lift dumpers and reverse thrust, all of which reduce landing distance and the likelihood of aquaplaning in wet conditions..
Wing in Ground Effect Craft
Flying in ground effect seems to me a bit like slipstreaming a truck going uphill in my kombi. You get a boost from the aerodynamics of the truck, or from flying within a wingspan of the surface. The reduction in drag (and increase in lift for a WIGE craft) is real, and beneficial. Less power is required to lift a given load, or to get up the hill at the speed of the truck, and, for an Ekranoplan or WIGE, you can travel far faster than any boat.
But the geometry is a constraint. I don’t really recommend slipstreaming trucks in the kombi, because great awareness is required, and the penalty for mistakes could be severe. For WIGE, the beneficial effects taper off to near zero at about one wingspan above the surface. At this low altitude, the scope for manoeuvre is limited, because any significant roll angle may bring the ‘down’ wing tip too close to the surface. Similarly, the ability to climb to greater than a wingspan above the surface may be helpful in avoiding surface obstructions, in manoeuvring, or in passing over coastal features, but will come at the expense of requiring additional power.
What does this mean for WIGE design? At present, practical WIGE seem to fall into two distinct categories – relatively small people movers and absolute behemoths.
The smaller craft typically have capacity from 2 to a dozen or so people. The larger end of this group is represented by the Sea Wolf Express, proposed for use as a Baltic Ferry, while craft such as the RFB X-114 represent the sporting and utility end of the market.
The most successful Ekranoplan is the 125 tonne A-90 Orlyonok, but this has itself been dwarfed by the Caspian Sea Monster, and would have been further dwarfed by the Boeing Pelican Ultra concept, which was for a ground effect aircraft with 500 ft wingspan and a payload of 1270 tonne. The Pelican was supposed to take-off and land from the ground, but cruise over the sea most of the time. Contrasting attitudes to WIGE Craft
One of the most interesting aspects of Ekranoplans or WIGE, is that there is some uncertainty about whether they are boats that fly, or flying-boats operating only at low altitude. The conceptual difference may appear trivial, but it seems to lead to substantial differences of view about their attraction or utility.
The International Maritime Organisation (IMO) has identified three classes of Ekranoplans, which apply for craft carrying 12 or more passengers, based on the heights at which the craft can operate.
These are defined as follows: Type A: capable only of operating within Ground-Effect i.e. no more than 1 wingspan above the surface; Type B: temporarily capable of flying out of ground effect, but at no more than 150m above the surface; Type C: capable of flying out of ground effect, at heights above 150m.
If we consider these vehicles to be ‘craft’ rather than ‘aircraft’, we can see some attractions. For example, a vehicle like the Sea Wolf Express could make a very impressive fast passenger ferry, as is envisaged for that craft, operating between Estonia and Finland.
A smaller version with perhaps two-seats, could be great fun as a sort of ‘flying jet-ski’ for whizzing about over rivers, lakes and calm seas.
And, if you are in the invasion or urgent freight business, the Russian Ekranoplans or Boeing Pelican, with payloads in the hundreds of tonnes and speeds above 200 knots look pretty impressive.
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Potential Issues
So, what are the drawbacks? Why are sporting WIGE, fast ferries and Ekranoplan freighters not everywhere?
If we look at each of these potential uses in turn, we can see some potential issues. For all of these craft, the ability to become airborne will require quite a lot of power, mainly to overcome water drag up to the point where the craft can reach planning speed across the surface.
This implies, for the sporting end of the market, significantly increased cost compared to a jet-ski. In addition, thinking about the alternative uses of sporting boats, it is not going to be possible to either fish, or tow water-skiers, behind a flying craft. Great for a runabout, or for what the Australians would call ‘hooning about’, but potentially an expensive alternative to either a jet-ski or a speedboat.
Operating economics are going to be the key driver for the fast ferry application, as well as safety and environmental considerations. One key problem faced by many operators of such craft is that, generally, the waterborne small fast ferries cannot carry cars, and this is likely also to be true for Sea Wolf Express class WIGE. As a result, operations are generally limited to passenger carriage, such as the routes operated in Sydney Harbour, along the Brisbane River or the Thames in London. Combinations of factors, such as bridges, tides and noise constraints, are likely to limit the practical applications of WIGE ferries around cities. This is not to say that short, high volume passenger services, linking destinations with good public transport at each end, such as proposed across the Baltic, would not be viable. But it is to suggest that this might be rather a niche market.
What about the behemoths? Well, the Russian giants have certainly demonstrated that such vehicles can be built and flown, and provide evidence that the carriage of a large payload is going to require huge dimensions and plenty of engine power. The Boeing Pelican Ultra concept is an interesting case study – although only a concept, the eventual design was huge, with 500ft wingspan, and a payload well in excess of 1000 tonnes. So, it can be done – why is this not happening? Well, largely because the commercial freight business is insanely competitive. Costs are pared to the minimum, and great attention is paid to operating economics. If, for example, you are shipping cars to the US in volume, it makes no sense to look at anything other than a ship (or building the cars in the US in the first place). The degree of urgency that would require such freight to arrive in a couple of days simply is not there. Far better and cheaper, to use either a container ship for general freight, or a specific type of vessel for more specialist needs.
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“the thinking-man’s Top Gear… but for planesâ€.
Who has the ability to ignore these commercial realities? Well, the military, who might have a need for rapidly, and relatively covertly, landing tanks, troops, vehicles and artillery on the beach of some neighbouring country. Hence the proposed applications of the giant Ekranoplans are exclusively military. An additional factor seems to be that for these craft size does matter, and, in general, the bigger things are, and the more engines they need, the more they cost, not only to develop, but to acquire and operate.
The other common issue that will undoubtedly require some thought is the licensing of operators. The IMO approach is all very well, but, if the intent of flying out of ground effect (Class B and C) is to fly over bridges, vessels, potentially isthmuses and small islands, then the operation is moving into a zone where aircraft operating requirements may come into play. Ekranoplans as Aircraft
What happens if you look at Ekranoplans and WIGE, not as watercraft, but as a new class of flying-boat? A couple of big issues immediately become apparent.
Firstly, if even a small WIGE is going to require a pilot’s license for its operation, and all the reporting and maintenance procedures that come with aviation, then the costs of either commercial or private operation are going to increase markedly.
And secondly, the existing airborne alternatives are immediately going to come to mind. One only has to consider aviation in Alaska to identify the large market for small utility aircraft operating as floatplanes. At the small to medium size level of operation, there is certainly a valid question as to whether a Cessna 206 or 208, or a Twin Otter class floatplane, might not be a better bet, particularly where something of the nature of a Cessna Grand Caravan on floats could be used, giving the flexibility of either land or water-based operation. All at a higher cost than a conventional ferry, of course, but fast and flexible.
Indeed, at this scale, it is difficult to regard the WIGE as anything other than an inefficient flying-boat, with small wing size that constrains operations to very low level, and increases the power needed to get airborne, and hence acquisition cost.
There is currently no military equivalent to the Ekranoplan ‘deliver the landing force to the beach’ capability except, perhaps for the large hovercraft used in small numbers by some Nations. But the utility of using 747 and similar freighters for delivering urgent air freight has become all too apparent in recent weeks as PPE and other equipment is moved, largely from China, to the rest of the world. And it is hard to look past the fleets of military freight aircraft as a capability for moving urgent military supplies to wherever the operational need demands.
So, reluctantly, I am forced to the view that the current Ekranoplan and WIGE systems are niche capabilities, looking for a viable market. I’d love to have a go in a small 2-person flying jet-ski, especially if no special operating license is required. But even given that desire, I am not sure I could get sufficient utility out of such a device to justify buying one.
The Sea Wolf Express Baltic fast ferry venture is an exciting opportunity, and there may well be other routes where similar ventures would be attractive, such as Vancouver to Victoria BC, or even Southampton to the Isle of Wight.
However, any operator is going to look hard at the alternatives – conventional vessel, hydrofoil, hovercraft or aircraft.
Anyone fancy building an Ekranoplan ferry for the ride across to Tasmania from Melbourne?
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The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes is a beautifully designed, highly visual, collection of the best articles from the fascinating world of military aviation –hand-picked from the highly acclaimed Hush-kit online magazine (and mixed with a heavy punch of new exclusive material). It is packed with a feast of material, ranging from interviews with fighter pilots (including the English Electric Lightning, stealthy F-35B and Mach 3 MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’), to wicked satire, expert historical analysis, top 10s and all manner of things aeronautical, from the site described as
“the thinking-man’s Top Gear… but for planesâ€.
The solid well-researched information about aeroplanes is brilliantly combined with an irreverent attitude and real insight into the dangerous romantic world of combat aircraft.
FEATURING
Interviews with pilots of the F-14 Tomcat, Mirage, Typhoon, MiG-25, MiG-27, English Electric Lighting, Harrier, F-15, B-52 and many more.
Engaging Top (and bottom) 10s including: Greatest fighter aircraft of World War II, Worst British aircraft, Worst Soviet aircraft and many more insanely specific ones.
Expert analysis of weapons, tactics and technology.
A look into art and culture’s love affair with the aeroplane.
Bizarre moments in aviation history.
Fascinating insights into exceptionally obscure warplanes.