The start of the Dole Air Race at Oakland Field, California, 16 August 1927. In starting position is Oklahoma. Waiting, left to right, are Aloha, Dallas Spirit, Miss Doran, Woolaroc, El Encanto, Golden Eagle, Air King and PABCO Pacific Flyer. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
16 August 1927: Not long after Charles A. Lindbergh had flown solo across the Atlantic Ocean, James D. Dole, founder of the Hawaiian Pineapple Company (HAPCO, now the Dole Foods Company, Inc., Westlake Village, California) offered a prize of $25,000 to the first pilots to fly from Oakland Field, Oakland, California, to Wheeler Field, Honolulu, Oahu, Territory of Hawaii, a Great Circle distance of 2,406.05 miles (3,872.16 kilometers). A $10,000 prize was offered for a second-place finisher.
James Drummond Dole, 28 June 1927. (Library of Congress)
There were 33 entrants and 14 of these were selected for starting positions. After accidents and inspections by the race committee, the final list of starters was down to eight.
Accidents began to claim the lives of entrants before the race even began. A Pacific Aircraft Company J-30 (also known as the Tremaine Hummingbird) flown by Lieutenants George Walter Daniel Covell and Richard Stokely Waggener, U.S. Navy, named The Spirit of John Rodgers, took off from North Island Naval Air Station, San Diego, California, on Wednesday, 10 August, en route to Oakland Field. They had drawn starting position 13. 15 minutes later, in heavy fog, they crashed into the cliffs of Point Loma. Both naval officers were killed.
British aviator Arthur Vickers Rogers was killed in his Bryant Monoplane, Angel of Los Angeles, when it crashed just after takeoff from Montebello, California, 11 August.
One airplane, Miss Doran, made an emergency landing in a farm field, and a fourth, Pride of Los Angeles, flown by movie star Hoot Gibson (Edmund Richard Gibson), crashed into San Francisco Bay while on approach to Oakland. The occupants of those two airplanes were unhurt.
Wreckage of the Pacific Aircraft J-30, The Spirit of John Rodgers, at Point Loma, 10 August 1927. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Hoot Gibson’s Pride of Los Angeles, an International Aircraft Corporation F-10 triplane, crashed on approach to Oakland Field. The crew were not hurt. I.A.C. advertised its products as “Airplanes That Fly Themselves.” (San Diego Air & Space Museum)The first airplane to take off from Oakland for the Dole Air Race was Oklahoma, a Travel Air 5000, NX911. The crowd of spectators was estimated to number 50,000–100,000 people. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
By the morning of 16 August, there were eight entrants remaining. Their starting positions had been selected by a random draw. A little before 11:00 a.m., the first airplane, a Travel Air 5000, registered NX911 and named Oklahoma, took off, but soon aborted the flight because of engine trouble. El Encanto, a Goddard Special, NX5074, crashed on takeoff. A Breese-Wilde Monoplane, PABCO Pacific Flyer, NX646, crashed on takeoff. The crews of these three airplanes were not hurt.
The Goddard Special, NX5074, El Encanto, which had been favored to win the race, crashed on takeoff. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Lockheed Vega 1, NX913, Golden Eagle, lifts off from Oakland, 16 August 1927. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
The next airplane to take off was Golden Eagle, the prototype Lockheed Vega. Registered NX913, it was flown by Jack Frost with Gordon Scott as the navigator. It soon disappeared to the west.
The Lockheed was followed by the Buhl CA-5 Air Sedan, NX2915, named Miss Doran. Repairs from its unscheduled landing in the farmer’s field had been accomplished. It was flown by John “Auggy” Pedlar with Lieutenant Vilas Raymond Knope, U.S. Navy, as navigator.
Also aboard was a passenger, Miss Mildred Alice Doran, the airplane’s namesake. She was a 22-year-old fifth-grade school teacher from Flint, Michigan. She knew William Malloska, owner of the Lincoln Petroleum Company (later, CITGO), who had sponsored her education at the University of Michigan. Miss Doran convinced him to enter an airplane in the Dole Air Race and allow her to fly along. Two local air circus pilots reportedly flipped a coin for the chance to fly the airplane in the Dole Air Race. John August (“Auggy”) Pedlar won the toss. Just ten minutes after takeoff from Oakland Field, Miss Doran returned with engine problems.
Next off was Dallas Spirit, a Swallow Special, NX941, with William Portwood Erwin, pilot, and Alvin Hanford Eichwaldt, navigator. It also quickly returned to Oakland.
The Travel Air 5000 NX896, Woolaroc, being prepared for the Trans-Pacific flight at Oakland, California, 16 August 1927. The airplane has been placed in flight attitude for calibration of its navigation instruments. The airplane is painted “Travel Air Blue” with orange wings. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
The last two entrants, a Breese-Wilde 5 Monoplane, NX914, Aloha, with Martin Jensen, pilot, and Captain Paul Henry Schlüter, a master mariner, as navigator; and Woolaroc, a Travel Air 5000, NX869, took off without difficulty.
Miss Doran made a second attempt and took off successfully. PABCO Pacific Flyer also tried again, crashing a second time.
Miss Doran, a Buhl CA-5 Air Sedan, NX2915, takes off from Oakland, California, 16 August 1927. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Woolaroc, the Travel Air 5000, NX869, arrives at Wheeler Field, Honolulu, Territory of Hawaii, 17 August 1927. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
Woolaroc, with Arthur Cornelius Goebel as pilot and Lieutenant (j.g.) William Virginius Davis, Jr., U.S. Navy, as navigator, flew across the Pacific and arrived at Honolulu after 26 hours, 17 minutes, to win the race. Aloha arrived after 28 hours, 16 minutes of flight. Lieutenant Davis (later, Vice Admiral Davis) was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Arthur C. Goebel won the Dole Air Race. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
Golden Eagle and Miss Doran never arrived. A search by more than forty ships of the United States Navy was unsuccessful. Dallas Spirit was repaired and Erwin and Eichwaldt took off to join the search for their competitors. They, too, were never seen again.
Lieutenant (j.g) George W. D. Covell, U.S. Navy, and Lieutenant Richard S. Waggener, U.S. Navy, were killed when their airplane crashed in fog, 10 August 1927, while flying to Oakland to join the Dole Air Race. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)British aviator Arthur Vickers Rogers was killed 11 August 1927, shortly after taking off on a test flight for his Dole Air Race entry, Pride of Los Angeles, a twin-engine Bryant monoplane, NX705. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)The crew of Miss Doran, left to right, John August “Auggy” Pedlar, Mildred Alice Doran and Lieutenant Vilas R. Knope, United States Navy. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Miss Mildred Alice Doran: “Life is nothing but a chance.” (San Diego Air & Space Museum)John William “Jack” Frost and Gordon Macalister Scott, crew of Golden Eagle. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Alvin Hanford Eichwaldt, navigator, and William Portwood Erwin, pilot, took their repaired Dallas Spirit to join the search for Golden Eagle and Miss Moran. They, too, disappeared over the Pacific Ocean. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Alvin H. Eichwaldt, navigator, and William P. Erwin, pilot, took their repaired Dallas Spirit to join the search for Golden Eagle and Miss Moran. They, too, disappeared over the Pacific Ocean. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)Swallow Special NX914, Dallas Spirit. (San Diego Air & Space Museum)
Woolaroc, the race-winning Travelair 5000, is at the Woolaroc Museum & Wildlife Preserve, 12 miles southwest of Bartlesville, Oklahoma.
The Travel Air 5000, Woolaroc, NX869, in the collection of the Woolaroc Museum and Wildlife Preserve. (Tyler Thompson/Wikipedia)
Joe Claiborne DeBona in the cockpit of Thunderbird, the record-setting North American Aviation P-51C Mustang, NX5528N. (San Diego Air & Space Museum Archive, Catalog #: 00069383)
Joe Claiborne DeBona was born 16 August 1912 at Eagle Pass, Texas. He was the second son of Giuseppe (“Joseph”) DeBona, a merchandise broker and an immigrant from Italy, and Adline (“Addie”) May Claiborne Debona.
Main Avenue High School, San Antonio, Texas, circa 1922. (San Antonio Express-News)
Joe DeBona attended Main Avenue High School in San Antonio, Texas, where, in 1928, he was on the track team. He then studied at the University of Texas. He was a member of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon (ΣΑΕ) fraternity, and played quarterback on the football team.
(On 27 May 1935, Joe C. DeBona, an instructor, married Miss Georgia C. Wiley in Los Angeles County, California.) ¹
On 29 August 1940 Joe Claiborne De Bona married Miss Evelyn Lewis, a graduate of the University of Southern California and an interior decorator. The 4:40 p.m. ceremony in the home of the bride’s family in Beverly Hills, California, was officiated by Reverend Murray McNeil. They would have a daughter, Eve. Contemporary newspaper articles reported that DeBona was a reserve officer in the United States Army Air Corps.
DeBona registered for Selective Service (conscription) 16 October 1940. He was described as 5 feet, 10½ inches (179 centimeters) tall, 175 pounds (79 kilograms) with black hair and hazel eyes. He had a dark complexion and a birthmark between his shoulder blades. At that time, he was employed by the National Cash Register Company in Los Angeles, California, as a salesman.
Joe Claiborne DeBona enlisted in the United States Army 21 July 1942.
During World War II, he served with the 1st Ferrying Squadron, 6th Ferrying Group, Air Transport Command, United States Army Air Forces, under the command of Colonel Ralph E. Spake, based at Long Beach Army Air Field, California.
While flying a Lockheed F-5A-10-LO Lightning photographic reconnaissance fighter, serial number 42-13113, 19 February 1943, First Lieutenant DeBona made a forced landing at Marajó Island, Pará, Brazil. The Lightning was written off.
Lockheed F-5A-10-LO Lightning 42-13289. This photographic reconnaissance airplane is from the same production block as the F-5A flown by 1st Lieutenant Joe C. DeBona over Brazil, 19 February 1943. (U.S. Air Force 080306-F-3927A-050)
The Binghampton Press, Binghampton, New York, reported:
Flier Rescued After 14 Days Alone in Jungle
DeBona, Forced Down in Brazil, Suffered Most From Loneliness
By A. T. STEELE
SPECIAL CABLE
To The Binghampton Press and the Chicago Daily News, Inc.
Somewhere in Brazil, March 10—(Delayed)—Forced down in the Depths of the Brazilian jungle an American pilot has been rescued from a nightmare experience of 20 days. He is Lieut. Joe De Bona who is today speeding back to his home in Beverly Hills, Cal., for reunion with his waiting wife.
I met Mr. De Bona at a Brazilian air base shortly after he arrived, bearded and weary from his forest trek. He said he had lost more than 25 pounds and admitted that his long stay in the jungle, fighting the mosquitoes and fever, and worst of all the black solitude had badly shaken his nerves. Mr. De Bona is by no means the first flyer to crash in the Amazon forest but he is one of the very few to come back alive. Mr. De Bona was ferrying a two-motored plane across Brazil when one of his motors suddenly conked out. Twenty-five minutes later the second engine quit and the plane headed steeply for the dense forest below.
Miraculously Mr. De Bona found a hole in the jungle mass and managed to make a belly landing in the bog. As the radio was still working he ticked out his approximate position to an air base 165 miles away. Then he sat down for a long wait. Three days later an American search plane found him and dropped him iron rations. Mr. De Bona had hoped he might be rescued within a few days but it was not until 14 days after his crash that a small party of natives succeeded in beating their way through the forest to the place where the pilot and his plane waited.
“I have been to Guadalcanal and I have been through some mighty unpleasant experiences in my life but I’ve never suffered anything like the torture of the fortnight in the jungle,” Mr. De Bona went on.
“I didn’t dare go far from the plane for I would have been lost in 10 minutes if I tried to penetrate the thick forest which surrounded me. One I started to climb a tree to look over the countryside but I came down in a hurry when I met a snake gazing at me through the branches. The days were blazing hot with occasional squalls of drenching rain. I could do but sit them out under what little shelter my plane could give me. A 6 o’clock night came down with equatorial suddenness. The swamp mosquitoes came on duty, buzzing about me until dawn. I slept or tried to sleep in the tail of my ship, using my rubber raft as a mattress and my parachute as a mosquito net.”
Mr. De Bona exhibited a leg flecked with spots—ant bites. Unlike the mosquitoes, jungle ants worked 24 hours daily.
Mr. De Bona said much of his suffering was psychological. The loneliness, the black nights, the long hours of waiting with nothing to read and nothing to think about except his own difficulties, had a cumulative effect as the days passed. Then there were the jungle noises which mounted in crescendo after the sun went down. Sitting in his lonely swamp he saw monkeys, buffaloes, brilliant plumaged birds and snakes. The creatures he liked least were the black scavenger birds which soared continuously over the forest looking for dead meat.
Mr. De Bona developed a fever a few days before his rescue and was soon “hearing imaginary voices” and talking to himself/ When on the 14th day a Brazilian rescue party of four men driving saddled oxen broke into the clearing, De Bona wept with relief.
“I never believed anything like this possible outside Hollywood,” Mr. De Bona said. “But now I know Hollywood sometimes is right.”
The Courier-Journal, Louisville, Kentucky, reported:
Ferry Pilots Learn World Hardest Way
Get Aquainted With Geography At First Hand
By JOHN FRYE
Cincinnatti, June 26 (AP)—The cables said 300 United States planes poured bombs on Italy, another 150 were over Germany, General MacArthur’s Lightnings shot down a hatful of Zeroes over New Guinea.—
First Lieut. Joe C. DeBona of Beverly Hills, Calif., learning geography the hard way, licked the jungle dew off the cockpit canopy because he was thirsty.—
Lieutenant DeBona’s connection with the ships that are making American air power felt over the world is this: He is one of the thousands of Army pilots, most of them anonymous, who take the planes from the factories to the battle. Gen H. H. Arnold, chief of the Air Forces, told West Point graduates the other day that 1,800 planes were taken out in May alone.
Engines Died Over Jungle.
One of the incredibly few who have accidents, Lieutenant DeBona didn’t get there on this particular trip. Both his engines quit over the jungle. He got back alive two weeks later to add the the data that is making the Ferrying Division of the Air Transport Command one of the world’s greatest repositories of geographical information.
The Ferrying Division’s headquarters told Lieutenant DeBona’s story as an incident in its operations, which are greater than those of all commercial airline put together.
DeBona had to drop out of a formation of six pursuit ships. He landed in country he described as “jungle, marsh, and swamp, all combined. Because it is combined, you have the jungle with marsh and swamp beneath it, then you have marsh and swamp out in the open, thick groves of tall trees resembling our oaks, much bamboo and tall grass resembling our Johnson grass and alfalfa, growing in water from six inches to a foot deep. Water ranged throughout the land except in dry spots, anywhere from six inches deep to over my head.
Water, Water Everywhere.
“This was brackish water which I did not touch, being informed in the pilot’s briefing that this water, even though boiled, is sometimes dangerous, unfit to drink.
“The ants worked twenty-four hours a day. They never quit, those guys. The ground was covered with ants and ticks. The ticks resemble snails. They pierce the skin with both the head and the tail of the body, then suck the blood.
“During the night the animal noises were constant. I could hear all kinds of animals being killed or killing. And I, in my own thinking, adopted the saying that jungle life is kill to live. I noticed too that all the animals were terrifically alert all the time, constantly on the lookout.
“I had only the turbo canvas covers to catch the rain and I did. I guess I salvaged a quart of water, rain water. Whenever it rained, I was up, even if it was the middle of the night.
“Every morning I would lick the dew off the canopy over the cockpit. I didn’t lick it off the ship because I was afraid it would poison me. But I was tempted on many occasions to lick it off the plane. When one is thirsty—it’s hard for me to explain here—your reasoning is poor, your fears are exaggerated.”
A Home On the Ice.
First Lieut. Harry E. Spencer, Jr., of Dallas, Texas, and his crew crashed somewhere in the Arctic, learned another branch of geography, which he later reported personally to President Roosevelt in the White House.
“I learned to keep my fingers away from the fire as much as possible to get them used to the cold. I learned that clothes will dry in the wind, freezing stiff, and the ice evaporating.
“I found the main thing to keep warm was to keep the wind out and my clothes dry. I learned to keep the heat off the snow house, for the heat would melt the snow on the ceiling and drip on the sleeping bags and wet them.
“Our snow house—the idea of a hole in the snow is to dig down to solid ice. In the fall this would be only a couple of feet as there would be no soft snow on top. As new comes, the ice level is further beneath the surface. Our first house was little more than three feet below the surface, with just enough room to barely crawl around. Later, when more snow fell, we dug out the ceiling to make more room.”
Lieutenant DeBona and Lieutenant Spencer both started out from an airplane factory or modification center. One went south and one went north. On the next trip, they might swap directions. Or they might swap types of ships.
There are few specialists in the Ferrying Division’s great bases scattered over the country. Many pilots may fly anything from a Grasshopper liaison plane to a Flying Fortress or Liberator. The destination may be England or China.
Like the more familiar cargohaulers of the Air Transport Command, the Ferrying Division pilots are making routine out of trips over vast wastelands, some never before seen by men.
All but a small fraction of the pilots starting on a delivery complete it.
Lieutenant Spencer and Lieutenant DeBona had their troubles and came back. Some haven’t. But none is forgotten when he fails to report on time.
47 days later, 6 April 1943, DeBona was involved in another accident while taxiing a Boeing B-17F-70-BO Flying Fortress, 42-29810, at Morrison Army Air Field (now, Palm Beach International Airport, FAA location identifier PBI). The accident was a result of a mechanical failure. The B-17 was repaired and returned to service. Flown across the Atlantic Ocean to England, it was assigned to Mediterranean Theater of Operations. 42-29810 was salvaged in Italy, 16 June 1944.
On 14 December 1943, Captain Joe C. DeBona, O-483618, arrived at Washington, D.C., aboard a Douglas C-54 Skymaster, 41-20140, from Prestwick, Scotland, via Borinquen, Puerto Rico.
Douglas C-54 Skymaster, circa 1943. (Library of Congress digital ID fsa.8b08002)
By 1945, Captain DeBona was flying the Douglas C-54 Skymaster on transpacific flights, transporting wounded soldiers back to the United States.
Joe Clairborn DeBona was discharged from the Army Air Forces 6 December 1945.
On 7 April 1948, the Joe De Bona Racing Co., 133 N. Robertson Boulevard, Beverly Hills, California, purchased a North American Aviation P-51C Mustang, N5528N, serial number 2925, from Leland Cameron. (The company was a partnership between De Bona and Academy Award-winning actor and World War II B-24 bomber pilot James Maitland (“Jimmy”) Stewart.)
North American Aviation P-51C Mustang. (North American Aviation, Inc.)
Over the next several months, N5528N, now named Thunderbird, was prepared for the upcoming 1948 Bendix Trophy Race. Unnecessary equipment such as the self-sealing fuel cells, the fuselage fuel tank, etc., were removed to save weight. The airframe seams were filled with putty and sanded smooth. Many coats of primer were applied followed by the the high-gloss “cobalt blue” paint. Gold decorative trim was applied. Thunderbird‘s airworthiness category, EXPERIMENTAL, was painted under the canopy rail on each side. Sponsors’ logos and crew member’s names were painted on the left side of the fuselage beneath the canopy. (The significance of the anvil logo with the numbers “1853” is not known.) The rudder was painted in a checkerboard pattern and the race number 90 applied to both sides of the fuselage. The registration was painted vertically on the fin, the top of the right wing and the bottom of the left wing.
Joe DeBona and Jimmy Stewart with Thunderbird, their P-51C Mustang racer. Placed on the ramp in front of the airplane is equipment that has been removed or replaced. Note the four “cuffed” Hamilton Standard propeller blades along the right side of the photograph. (LIFE Magazine)
The start of the 1948 Bendix Trophy Race took place on 4 September at Van Nuys, California. Joe De Bona was entered with Thunderbird, but was unable to complete the race. Reportedly low on fuel, he landed at Norwalk, Ohio.
On 29 March 1949, Thunderbird, with De Bona in the cockpit, took off from the Lockheed Air Terminal, Burbank, California, at 6:20:50 a.m., Pacific Standard Time (13:20:50 UTC) and flew across the North American continent to land at LaGuardia Airport in New York City at 2:20:50 p.m., Eastern Standard Time (18:20:55 UTC). This flight was observed by the National Aeronautic Association and timed at 5 hours, 0 minutes, 5 seconds. The official distance flown was 2,453.085 statute miles (3,947.858 kilometers), with an average speed of 490.625 miles per hour (789.584 kilometers per hour). This established a new U.S. national speed record.
Jackie Cochran’s North American Aviation P-51B-5-NA Mustang N5528N. (San Diego Air & Space Museum Archives, Catalog #: 00069379)
Joe DeBona had made two prior unsuccessful transcontinental record attempts with Thunderbird. On March 6, he was forced to land at Smoky Hill Air Force Base, Salina, Kansas. (Some contemporary news reports said that the problem was a fuel pump, while others said it was an oil pump.) On 24 March, Thunderbird‘s propeller governor failed near Pueblo, Colorado. DeBona aborted the attempt and returned to Burbank, California.
1949 ace winner Joe De Bona with the Bendix Trophy. De Bona flew Thunderbird in the 1948 and 1949 air races. (Unattributed)
The start of the 1949 Bendix Trophy Race was relocated from Metropolitan Airport at Van Nuys to Rosamond Dry Lake, 40 miles (64.4 kilometers) north of Muroc Air Force Base (renamed Edwards AFB just two months later). This year, Joe De Bona was successful. He won the 2,008 mile (3,231.6 kilometers) race to Cleveland, Ohio in an elapsed time of 4:16:17.5, averaging 470.1 miles per hour (756.6 kilometers per hour).
On 31 March 1954, DeBona took off from Los Angeles International Airport, on the shoreline of southern California, in a North American Aviation P-51C Mustang, N5528N. Departing at At 7:18:08 a.m., Pacific Standard Time (14:18:08 UTC), he flew across the North American continent non-stop, and arrived overhead New York International Airport at 2:42:25 p.m., Eastern Standard Time (18:42:25 UTC). The total elapsed time for the flight was 4 hours, 24 minutes, 17 seconds. DeBona’s average speed was 560.74 miles per hour (902.424 kilometers per hour).
Jimmy Stewart crouches on Mr. Alex’s wing, while Joe De Bona occupies the cockpit, 16 March 1954, prior to a non-stop transcontinental speed record attempt. Stewart is not wearing shoes so as to avoid scuffing the smooth surface of the wing. (Los Angeles Examiner Negatives Collection, 1950-1961/Doheny Memorial Library, University of Southern California)
This was a new U.S. national speed record, certified by the National Aeronautic Association.
A major event of 1953 was the Coronation of Elizabeth II on 2 June. American television networks CBS and NBC had arranged to have films of the ceremonies flown across the Atlantic to Newfoundland. From there the film would be flown on to the United States by Jimmy Stewart’s P-51 and another owned by Paul Mantz, NX1204, flown by Stanley Reaver.
Televised coronation of Eliuzabeth II. (The Royal Household)
Joe De Bona was once again in the cockpit of N5528N. He arrived at Boston 24 minutes before his rival, Stan Reaver, but a third network, ABC, was actually the first to broadcast the films of the Coronation.
Mr. Alex, Jimmy Stewart’s North American Aviation P-51C Mustang, N5528N. (Unattributed)
Attempting to set another transcontinental speed record, De Bona took off from Los Angeles International Airport at 7:18:08 a.m., Pacific Standard Time (14:18:08 UTC), 31 March 1954, and flew to Idlewild Airport in New York City. He landed there at 2:42:25 p.m., Eastern Standard Time (18:42:25 UTC). With an official elapsed time of 4 hours, 24 minutes, 17 seconds, the National Aeronautic Association credited him with a U.S. national record speed of 560.74 miles per hour (902.42 kilometers per hour).
Joe C. DeBona died at Newport Beach, California, 23 January 1975. He was 62 years of age.
¹ This Day in Aviation has been unable to determine if this was the same Joe C. DeBona.
An American Airlines Boeing 707-023B Astrojet (720B) at Los Angeles International Airport, 26 December 1962. (Photograph used with the permission of Jon Proctor)
15 August 1962: American Airlines’ Captain Eugene M. (“Gene”) Kruse set two National Aeronautic Association Class C-1 records for Speed Over a Commercial Air Route, East to West Transcontinental, when he flew a Boeing 720B Astrojet from New York to Los Angeles, 2,474 miles (3,981.5 kilometers), in 4 hours, 19 minutes, 15 seconds, at an average speed of 572.57 miles per hour (921.46 kilometers per hour). 61 years later, these records still stand.
The National Aeronautic Association has placed Captain Kruse’s records on its “Most Wanted” list: long-standing flight records that it would like to see challenged. Rules require that a new record exceed the old by at least a 1% margin. The performance needed to establish a new record would be 578.30 miles per hour (930.68 kilometers per hour).
The Boeing 720 was a variant of the Model 707, intended for short to medium range flights. It had 100 inches (2.54 meters) removed from the fuselage length and improvements to the wing, decreasing aerodynamic drag.
The Boeing 720 was operated by a flight crew of four and could carry up to 149 passengers. It was 136 feet, 2 inches (41.25 meters) long with a wingspan of 130 feet, 10 inches (39.90 meters) and overall height of 41 feet, 7 inches (12.65 meters). The airplane had an empty weight of 103,145 pounds (46,785 kilograms) and Maximum Takeoff Weight of 220,000 pounds (100,800 kilograms).
The Boeing 720 was powered by four Pratt & Whitney Turbo Wasp JT3C-7 turbojet engines, a civil variant of the military J57 series. The 720B was equipped with the more efficient P&W JT3D-1 turbofan engines. The JT3C-7 was a “two-spool” axial-flow engine with a 16-stage compressor (9 low- and 7 high-pressure stages), 8 combustion tubes, and a 3-stage turbine (1 high- and 2 low-pressure stages). It was rated at 12,030 pounds of thrust (53.512 kilonewtons) for takeoff. The JT3D-1 was a dual axial-flow turbofan engine, with a 2-stage fan section 13-stage compressor (6 low- and 7 high pressure stages), 8 combustion chambers and a 4-stage turbine (1 high- and 3 low-pressure stages). This engine was rated at 14,500 pounds of static thrust (64.499 kilonewtons) at Sea Level, and 17,000 pounds (75.620 kilonewtons), with water injection, for takeoff (2½ minute limit). Almost half of the engine’s thrust was produced by the fans. Maximum engine speed was 6,800 r.p.m. (N1) and 10,200 r.p.m. (N2). It was 11 feet, 4.64 inches (3.471 meters) long, 4 feet, 5.00 inches (1.346 meters) wide and 4 feet, 10.00 inches (1.422 meters) high. It weighed 4,165 pounds (1,889 kilograms). The JT3C could be converted to the JT3D configuration during overhaul.
The maximum cruise speed was 611 miles per hour (983 kilometers per hour) and maximum speed was 620 miles per hour (1,009 kilometers per hour). Range at at maximum payload was 4,370 miles (7,033 kilometers).
Boeing built 154 720 and 720B airliners from 1959 to 1967.
The last flight of a Boeing 720 was on 9 May 2012, when a 720B aircraft used by Pratt and Whitney Canada as a test aircraft was placed in the National Air Force Museum of Canada at Trenton, Ontario.
William Barton Bridgeman (Boris Artzybasheff/TIME Magazine)
15 August 1951: Just 8 days after he set an unofficial world speed record of Mach 1.88 (1,245 miles per hour; 2,033.63 kilometers per hour), Douglas Aircraft Company test pilot William Barton (“Bill”) Bridgeman flew the rocket-powered United States Navy/National Advisory Committee on Aeronautics (NACA) Douglas D-558-II Skyrocket, Bu. No. 37974, to a world record altitude at Edwards Air Force Base in the high desert of Southern California.
The Skyrocket was airdropped at 34,000 feet (10,363 meters) from a highly-modified U.S. Navy P2B-1S Superfortress, Bu. No. 84029. The mother ship was a U.S. Air Force Boeing B-29-95-BW Superfortress, 45-21787, transferred to the Navy and flown by another Douglas test pilot, George R. Jansen.
Douglas D-558-II Skyrocket, Bu. No., 37974, NACA 144, is dropped from the Boeing P2B-1S Superfortress, Bu. No. 84029, NACA 137. (NASA)
The flight plan was for Bridgeman to fire the rocket engine and allow the Skyrocket to accelerate to 0.85 Mach while climbing. The Skyrocket was powered by a Reaction Motors LR8-RM-6 engine, which produced 6,000 pounds of thrust. As the rocketplane continued to accelerate to Mach 1.12, the test pilot was to pull up, increasing the angle of climb while holding an acceleration rate of 1.2 Gs. This would result in a constantly increasing angle of climb. When it reached 50°, Bridgeman was to maintain that, climbing and accelerating, until the rocket engine ran out of fuel.
Initially, the plan was to continue climbing after engine shutdown until the D-558-II was approaching stall at the highest altitude it could reach while on a ballistic trajectory. There were differing expert opinions as to how it would behave in the ever thinner atmosphere. On the morning of the flight, Douglas’ Chief Engineer, Ed Heinemann, ordered that Bridgeman push over immediately when the engine stopped.
Bill Bridgeman stuck to the engineers’ flight plan. As the Skyrocket accelerated through 63,000 feet (19,200 meters), it started to roll to the left. He countered with aileron input, but control was diminishing in the thin air. The next time it began there was no response to the ailerons. Bridgeman found that he had to lower the Skyrocket’s nose until it responded, then he was able to increase the pitch angle again. At 70,000 feet (21,336 meters), travelling Mach 1.4, he decided he had to decrease the pitch angle or lose control. Finally at 76,000 feet (23,165 meters), the engine stopped. Following Heinemann’s order, Bridgeman pushed the nose down and the D-558-II went over the top of its arc at just 0.5 G.
Bill Bridgeman. (Unattributed)
“In the arc she picks up a couple of thousand feet. The altimeter stops its steady reeling and swings sickly around 80,000 feet. The altitude is too extreme for the instrument to function.
“Eighty thousand feet. It is intensely bright outside; the contrast of the dark shadows in the cockpit is extreme and strange. It is so dark lower in the cockpit that I cannot read the instruments sunk low on the panel. The dials on top, in the light, are vividly apparent. There seems to be no reflection. It is all black or white, apparent or non-apparent. No half-tones. It is a pure, immaculate world here.
“She levels off silently. I roll right and there it is. Out of the tiny windows slits there is the earth, wiped clean of civilization, a vast relief map with papier-mâché mountains and mirrored lakes and seas. . . .
“It is as if I am the only living thing connected to this totally strange, uninhabited planet 15 miles below me. The plane that carries me and I are one and alone.”
—The Lonely Sky,William Bridgeman with Jacqueline Hazard, Castle and Company LTD, London, 1956, Chapter XXII at Page 268.
After the data was analyzed, it was determined that William Bridgeman and the Douglas Skyrocket had climbed to 79,494 feet (24,230 meters), higher than any man had gone before. This was the last flight that would be made with a Douglas test pilot. The rocketplane was turned over to NACA, which would assign it the number NACA 144.
A Douglas D-558-II Skyrocket, Bu. No. 37974, glides back toward Rogers Dry Lake at Edwards Air Force Base. A North American Aviation F-86E-1-NA Sabre, 50-606, flies chase. Lieutenant Colonel Frank K. “Pete” Everest and Major Charles E. “Chuck” Yeager frequently flew as chase pilots for both Bill Bridgeman and Scott Crossfield. (NASA)
Bill Bridgeman had been a Naval Aviator during World War II, flying the Consolidated PBY Catalina and PB4Y (B-24) Liberator long range bombers with Bombing Squadron 109 (VB-109), “The Reluctant Raiders.” Bridgeman stayed in the Navy for two years after the war, then he flew for Trans-Pacific Air Lines in the Hawaiian Islands and Pacific Southwest Airlines in San Francisco, before joining Douglas Aircraft Co. as a production test pilot, testing new AD Skyraiders as they came off the assembly line at El Segundo, California. He soon was asked to take over test flying the D-558-2 Skyrocket test program at Muroc Air Force Base.
The D-558-II Skyrocket was Phase II of a planned three phase experimental flight program. It was designed to investigate flight in the transonic and supersonic range. It was 46 feet, 9 inches (14.249 meters) long with a 25 foot (7.62 meter) wing span. The wings were swept back to a 35° angle. The Skyrocket was powered by a Westinghouse J34-WE-40 11-stage axial-flow turbojet engine, producing 3,000 pounds of thrust, and a Reaction Motors LR8-RM-6 four-chamber rocket engine, which produced 6,000 pounds of thrust. The rocket engine burned alcohol and liquid oxygen.
There were three D-558-2 Skyrockets. Between 4 February 1948 and 28 August 1956, they made a total of 313 flights. Bill Bridgeman’s speed and altitude record-setting Skyrocket, Bu. No. 37974, NACA 144, is in the collection of the Smithsonian Institution National Air and Space Museum.
Douglas D-558-2 Skyrocket, Bu. No. 37974, NACA 144. (NASA)
Junkers Ju 87 B-1 Sturzkampfflugzeug (“Stuka”) photographed before World War II. Note the extended dive brake under the wing. (Unattributed)
15 August 1939: As Nazi Germany prepared for a war now just weeks away, the Luftwaffe gave a demonstration of its Junkers Ju 87 B-1 Stuka dive bombers for a group of generals at a test range near Neuhammer-am-Queis, Silesia:
. . . scores of generals were assembled at the training area at Neuhammer to watch a dive-bombing demonstration. Already, said Rudolf Braun, who took part with his unit (I St. G 3) there was a feeling of war in the air.
Hauptmann Rudolf Braun, Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross
Normally the order of attack was the Kommandeur’s Stab Kette (Staff Flight) first, followed by Staffels 1, 2, and 3. For some unknown reason Staffel I, led by Oberleutnant Peltz, was this time ordered to attack last. It would save Rudolf Braun’s life.
The Met. reported cloud from 6,000 feet down to 2,500 with clear visibility below. At 6.00 a.m. Hauptmann Sigel led his Gruppe into attack at 12,000 feet. Half-rolling his Ju. 87 he plunged nearly vertically earthwards, with Oberleutnants Eppen and Mueller on each side.
On the ground below, the generals (including Wolfram von Richthofen, the Stuka’s chief) listened to the whining crescendo of the dive-bombers as they plummeted towards the ground. Horrified, they knew that nothing could avert disaster. The Met. report was wrong. Cloud base was at three hundred feet.
Hauptmann Sigel, yelling into his microphone, “Pull out!” managed to do so himself a few feet above the trees. But Eppen went in, Mueller went in, and both burst into flames. The nine Ju. 87s of Staffel 2 and two of Staffel 3 all went in.
Rudolf Braun and his comrades of Staffel I had heard Sigel’s warning and remained circling above the cloud layer through which columns of black smoke were now rising from the wreckage of thirteen dive bombers. I St. G 3 lost twenty-six young aircrew that day.
— Duel of Eagles, Group Captain Peter Wooldridge Townsend, C.V.O., D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar, Royal Air Force. Castle Books, Edison, New Jersey, 2003, Chapter 14 at Pages 171–172.
Two Junkers Ju 87 Stuka dive bombers.
The Junkers Flugzeug-und-Motorenwerke AG Ju 87 B-1 Sturzkampfflugzeug (“diving combat aircraft”) was a two-place, single-engine, low-wing monoplane with fixed landing gear, designed as a dive bomber. The airplane, commonly known as the “Stuka,” has a blocky, unstreamlined appearance. Its most identifiable feature is its sharply-tapered, inverted “gull wing.” ¹
The Ju 87 made its first flight 17 September 1935. Among the tests pilots who flew it during pre-production testing were Hanna Reitsch and aeronautical engineer Gräfin Melitta Schenk von Stauffenberg.
The Stuka was used in the murderous attack on Wieluń, Poland, 1 September 1939, just 18 days after the accident at Neuhammer-am-Queis. This was the very first combat action of World War II. In just over one hour, 75% of the town was destroyed and more than 1,200 people were killed. The death rate was twice that of the infamous attack on the Spanish town of Guernica by the Nazi Condor Legion during the Spanish Civil War.
The Ju 87 B-1 was the first variant to be produced in large numbers and was in service at the beginning of World War II. The airplane is 11.000 meters (36.089 feet) long with a wingspan of 13.800 meters (45.276 feet) and height of 3.770 meters (12.369 feet). The total wing area is 31.9 square meters (343.4 square feet). The B-1 variant had an empty weight of 2,745 kilograms (6,052 pounds), and gross weight of 4,235 kilograms (9,337 pounds).
Two-view illustration of the Junkers Ju 87 B-1, with dimensions in millimeters. (Junkers Ju 87 B-1 Betriebsanleitung, at Page 0 05)
The Ju 87 B-1 was powered by a liquid-cooled, supercharged 34.989 liter (2,135.190 cubic-inch-displacement) Junkers Jumo 211 A inverted 60° V-12 engine. The 211 A had direct fuel-injected and the cylinder heads were machined for four spark plugs per cylinder. The compression ratio was 6.57:1, requiring 88-octane gasoline. It was rated at a maximum 900 Pferdestärke at 2,200 r.p.m. at 5,500 meters (18,045 feet). The engine turned a three-blade Junkers-Verstelluftschraube propeller with a diameter of 3.4 meters (11.2 feet) through a 1.55:1 gear reduction. The Jumo 211 A weighed 660 kilograms (1,455 pounds).
The Stuka B-1 had a maximum dive speed of 600 kilometers per hour (373 miles per hour). The Ju 87 B-1 had a service ceiling of 8,000 meters (26,247 feet), and range of 550 kilometers (342 miles).
The B-1 was armed with two fixed 7.92 mm Rheinmetall-Borsig MG17 machine guns with 1,000 rounds of ammunition per gun, and one MG 15 machine gun on a flexible mount with 900 rounds of ammunition. It could carry a single 500 kilogram (1,102 pound) bomb under the fuselage.
Junkers Ju 87 V-4 prototype, D-UBIP, WNr 4924, circa 1936.
An interesting feature the the Stuka was its automatic pull-out system. Once the bomb had been dropped, the airplane automatically began a 5–6 g recovery. This could save the airplane if the pilot became target-fixated, or blacked out.
The Ju 87 was equipped with a Zeiss gyro-stabilized bomb sight. According to an article in Air Force Times, the Stuka was a very accurate dive bomber. “. . . even the worst drops typically landed within 100 feet [30.5 meters] of the target. Good hits were either on target or no more than 15 feet [4.6 meters]off-center.”
In the same article, the legendary Royal Navy test pilot, Captain Eric Melrose Brown, C.B.E., D.S.C., A.F.C., K.C.V.S.A., Ph.D., Hon. F.R.Ae.S., R.N., is quoted:
“A dive angle of 90 degrees is a pretty palpitating experience, for it always feels as if the aircraft is over the vertical and is bunting, and all this while terra firma is rushing closer with apparent suicidal rapidity. In fact I have rarely seen a specialist dive bomber put over 70 degrees in a dive, but the Ju 87 was a genuine 90-degree screamer. . . the Ju 87 felt right standing on its nose, and the acceleration to 335 mph [539 km/h] was reached in about 4,500 feet [1,372 meters], speed thereafter creeping up to the absolute permitted limit of 375 mph [604 km/h], so that the feeling of being on a runaway roller coaster experienced with most dive bombers was missing. I must confess that I had a more enjoyable hour’s dive-bombing practice than I had ever experienced with any other aircraft of this specialist type. Somehow the Ju 87D did not appear to find its natural element until it was diving steeply. Obviously the fixed undercarriage and large-span dive brakes of the Junkers were a highly effective drag combination.”
Only two Stukas still exist, one, a Ju 87 G-2, at the RAF Museum at Hendon, and the other, a Ju 87 R-2, is at the Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago, Illinois.
¹ TDiA has not found any source that provides the details of the Ju 87’s most characteristic feature: the angles of anhedral and dihedral of its wings. TDiA estimates that the wings’ inner section has -12° anhedral, while the outer wing panels have approximately 8° dihedral.
