10 May 1927

Charles A. Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis, just before departure, at Rockwell Field, 10 May 1927. At left is Donald A. Hall, the airplane’s designer. Second from left is A.J. Edwards, Ryan’s sales manager. Lindbergh is shaking hands with Lieutenant Colonel Harry T. Graham, U.S. Army Air Corps, commanding officer of Rockwell Field. (San Diego Air and Space Museum)

10 May 1927: At 3:55 p.m., PST, Charles A. Lindbergh and his Spirit of St. Louis lifted off from Rockwell Field on North Island, San Diego, California, for their record-setting overnight flight to St. Louis, Missouri. The new Ryan NYP, N-X-211, had been ready and all the flight tests complete since 4 May. Lindbergh had completed the navigational planning for both the transcontinental flight to New York City, and then, the transoceanic flight to Paris. He had been in daily consultation with Dean Blake, chief of the Weather Bureau in San Diego. A system over the Rockies had been holding up his departure for days, but now everything was ready. Lindbergh wrote:

     At 3:40 I crawl into my flying suit. It’s uncomfortably hot in the California sun. . . It’s a few minutes early, but why wait any longer in this heat? I wave good-by, taxi into position, and ease the throttle open. As I pick up speed, I hold the tail low to put as much load as possible on the wings and reduce strain on the landing gear.

     The Spirit of St. Louis is in the air soon after its wheels start clattering over the hummocky portion of the field. The take-off wasn’t as difficult as I expected. It’s 3:55 Pacific. I make a mental note of the time, check instruments, pull the throttle back slightly, and begin a wide climbing turn to the left. Two army observation planes and a Ryan monoplane have taken off with me as an escort. Colonel Graham, the Commanding Officer at Rockwell Field, is in one of the observation planes. Hall, Bowlus, Harrigan, and A.J. Edwards are in the Ryan. We circle North Island, the factory, and the city of San Diego. Then, leaving the ocean and the bay behind, I set my compass heading for St. Louis.

 The Spirit of St. Louis, by Charles A. Lindbergh, Charles Scribners’ Sons, 1953, at Page 134.

Charles A. Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis over San Diego Bay. Photograph by H.A. Erickson. (San Diego Air and Space Museum)
Charles A. Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis over San Diego Bay. Photograph by H.A. Erickson. (San Diego Air and Space Museum)

© 2016, Bryan R. Swopes

10 May 1911

Second Lieutenant George E.M. Kelly, United States Army. (SDASM)

10 May 1911: Second Lieutenant George Edward Maurice Kelly, 30th Infantry Regiment, United States Army, was killed during his primary pilot qualification flight at Fort Sam Houston, Texas.

Kelly had been sent to San Diego, California, in January 1911 as one of three U.S. Army officers to attend Glenn H. Curtiss’ Curtiss School of Aviation, newly established on North Island. After three months of training he was sent to Texas where the Army had set up its own training field.

Lieutenant Kelly was flying the Army’s second airplane, S.C. No. 2, a Curtiss Model D Type IV. The airplane had been accepted just two weeks earlier.

Curtiss Type IV Model D, S.C. No. 2, 1911. (U.S. Air Force)
Curtiss Model D Type IV, S.C. No. 2, 1911. (U.S. Air Force)

The New York Times reported in its 11 May 1911 issue:

LIEUT. KELLY KILLED; HIS AIRSHIP WRECKED;

Army Airman Suffers Fractured Skull in Fall at San Antonio and Dies and Hour Later.

CARTER AND STAFF PRESENT

Only Up Five Minutes When Mishap in Control Equipment prevented His Shutting Off Power.

Special to The New York Times

SAN ANTONIO, Texas, May 10.—Second Lieut. George E.M. Kelly of the United States Signal Corps, one of four army aviators on duty with the division of regulars mobilized here, was killed this morning when a Curtiss aeroplane he was flying got beyond control, after which it ran through the air for over a hundred yards, and crashed to the ground, burying Lieut. Kelly in its wreckage.

The machine was reduced to splinters, the only parts of it left intact being the engine and the rear plane work. Lieut. Kelly suffered a fractured skull and died in the Fort Sam Houston Hospital an hour later. He never regained consciousness. The accident happened about 7:30 this morning, in full view of Gen. Carter and his staff and hundreds of soldiers.

The exact cause of the accident will probably never be known, although a board of officers from the Signal Corps who investigated the accident are of the opinion that it was due to a break in some part of the controlling mechanism, making it impossible for Kelly to shut off the power when he realized his peril.

The accident happened about one hundred yards from Gen. Carter’s headquarters. The young officer had been in the air about five minutes, and Major Squier, Chief Signal Corps officer, had commented on the fine flight he was making, when the aviator pointed his machine downward for the purpose of making a landing. The machine was going at a speed estimated at between forty and fifty miles an hour. It shot down, apparently under perfect control, and landed a few feet away from one of the main driveways that intersect the mobilization camp. Kelly could be seen working frantically at the steering wheel as the machine descended, and when it struck the ground everybody breathed a sigh of relief, believing the officer was safe.

But the unexpected happened. The machine ran along the ground for ten or fifteen yards and then the fork into which is fitted the front wheel struck some obstruction and a moment later the propeller began to revolve at a wild speed. It could be seen that the left part of the machine was absolutely beyond the control of the aviator. It suddenly shot forward several yards, and then ascended to an altitude of between fifteen and twenty feet. It darted through the air in the direction of the Eleventh Infantry camp, tumbling and rolling like a wounded bird. The officer could be seen working the broken controller, but those who witnessed the sight say that at no time did he have a chance to escape with his life.

The machine gave a last tumble in the air and fell with a crash to the ground. Kelly was pitched out just as it started downward. The aviator and the machine struck the ground at the same instant.

Photograph o fteh accident scene at Fort San Antonio, published in the San Antonio Express, 11 May 1911.
Photograph of the accident scene at Fort San Antonio, published by the San Antonio Express, 11 May 1911.

Major Squier, Lieut. Foulois, Frank Coffyn, the Wright aviator, and a trooper were the first to reach the side of the dying aviator, whose skull was crushed. He lay under the wreckage of one of the planes, his face to the ground. The ambulance came up a moment later. Lieut. Foucar of the Medical Corps, in charge of the ambulance, examined Lieut. Kelly and informed Major Squier that he was mortally hurt.

By this time the Third Cavalry galloped up and formed a cordon around the place where Kelly lay dying. Lieut. Foucar, aided by troopers, picked him up and hurried him to the hospital, where Major Hutton, the Chief Surgeon, after examining him said there was no chance to save his life. An hour and ten minutes later he died.

Others new when Kelly was killed, besides Gen Carter, were Col. Stephen Mills, Chief of Staff; Lieut. Col. Ladd, the Adjutant General, and Col. Birmingham, Col. Straub, Capt. Leonard and Capt. Craig, all of the division staff. The whole camp knew of the accident within a few minutes after it had happened, and on all sides the deepest feelings of regret were expressed for the unfortunate aviator, who was one of the most popular members of the army corps.

Major General George Owen Squier, Signal Corps, United States Army.
Major General George Owen Squier, Signal Corps, United States Army.

As soon as order was restored Major Squier appointed a board of three signal officers to investigate the accident. Lieut. Paul W. Beck, chief of the corps, was President of the board, the other members being Lieut. Fulois and Lieut. Walker. After a hearing that lasted several hours they reported that atmospheric conditions were good at the time of the accident, that Kelly’s first landing was a good one, and that the cause of the accident was due to a break in some part of the control equipment which made impossible the management of the engine and planes. The report has been forwarded to Gen. Allen, Chief of the Signal Corps, in Washington.

The accident to Lieut. Kelly is the third within the last ten days. All of them befell the same Curtiss aeroplane in which Kelly was flying. Lieut. Walker figured in the first accident. On that occasion, in making a turn, the machine got out of his control and fell 150 feet before it righted itself. Lieut. Beck was the victim of the next accident.  He fell over 200 feet and landed in a mesquite tree. The machine was badly wrecked. When Lieut. Kelly went up this morning it was the first time the machine had been in the air since its mishap with Lieut. Beck.

Second Lieutenant George E.M. Kelly, U.S. Army, at Curtiss School of Aviation, North Island, San Diego, California, ca. April 1911. (George Hammond Curtiss Historical Society)
Second Lieutenant George E.M. Kelly, U.S. Army, at Curtiss School of Aviation, North Island, San Diego, California, ca. April 1911. (San Diego Air and Space Museum Archives)

Lieut. Kelly came to San Antonio about six weeks ago with Lieuts. Beck and Walker. All had been receiving instruction from Glenn H. Curtiss at San Diego, Cal., and had certificates from Mr. Curtiss testifying that they were capable aviators. When the Curtiss machine arrived several weeks ago Eugene Ely, one of the Curtiss aviators, was sent here to look after the instruction of Lieuts. Beck, Kelly, and Walker, who had been assigned to fly the machine. Ely left ten days ago to fulfill some exhibition engagements, and is not due back until May 14.

Speaking of the accident this afternoon, Major Squier said that, in his opinion, it was unavoidable.

“Lieut. Kelly,” he added, “was one of the best men in the Signal Corps. He was a quiet, unassuming fellow, devoted to his work, and gave every promise of becoming one of the army’s most valuable aviators. However, we must all remember that an aviator’s life is one in which the danger phase must be considered. Orders have been issued forbidding further flying for the next few days.”

Lieut. Kelly was a native of England and joined the army in 1904 as a private in the Coast Artillery. He held every non-commissioned rank from Corporal to Sergeant, and was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the Thirtieth Infantry in 1907. He was unmarried and is said to have a sister living in New York City. His parents are believed to be in England.

Lieut. Kelly was the second army officer to be killed in an aeroplane. The other was Lieut. Thomas B. Selfridge, who fell with Orville Wright at Fort Myer, Va., in September, 1908.

The New York Times, 11 May 1911, Page 2. (The photographs are from other sources and were not part of the original New York Times article.)

Second Lieutenant George Edward Maurice Kelly was the second U.S. Army aviator killed in an airplane accident, however he was the first pilot killed while flying the airplane. His remains were interred at the San Antonio National Cemetery, San Antonio, Texas.

In 1916, the Army replaced the air field at Fort San Antonio with a new field on the opposite side of the city. The new airfield was initially named Camp Kelly, then Kelly Field. In 1948, it was renamed Kelly Air Force Base.

Main Gate, Kelly Field, circa 1916. (U.S. Air Force)
Main Gate, Kelly Field, circa 1916. (U.S. Air Force)

© 2019, Bryan R. Swopes

9 May 1962

Sikorsky S-64 Skycrane N325Y, s/n 64001. (John Daniel)

9 May 1962: The Sikorsky S-64 Skycrane, N325Y, prototype of a heavy-lift helicopter, made its first flight at Stratford, Connecticut. The Skycrane was a turbine-powered evolution of the piston-engined S-60. The United States Army bought six S-64s for evaluation, and then ordered 54 production aircraft, designated CH-54A Tarhe, and 35 CH-54Bs. Sikorsky produced 12 S-64E and Fs for the commercial helicopter market.

The Sikorsky CH-54A Tarhe is a large single-main-rotor/tail rotor helicopter, specifically designed to carry large external loads. In U.S. Army service, it had a crew of five: pilot, co-pilot, third pilot and two mechanics. The third pilot was in a rear-facing cockpit position and flew the helicopter while it was hovering to pick up or position an external load.

FAI record-setting Sikorsky CH-54A Tarhe (FAI)

The CH-54A is 88 feet, 5.9 inches (26.972 meters) long and 25 feet, 4.7 inches (7.739 meters) high. The main rotor has six blades and turns counter-clockwise, seen from above. (The advancing blade is on the helicopter’s right side.) The main rotor has a diameter of 72 feet (21.946 meters). The main rotor blades have a chord of 1.97 feet (0.601 meters) and incorporate a twist of -13°. The tail rotor has four blades and is placed on the left side of a vertical pylon in a pusher configuration. The tail rotor turns clockwise, as seen from the helicopter’s left side. (The advancing blade is below the axis of rotation.) The diameter of the tail rotor is 16 feet (4.877 meters). The chord of the tail rotor blade is 1.28 feet (0.390 meters).

The helicopter has an empty weight of 19,120 pounds (8,673 kilograms) a design gross weight of 38,000 pounds (17,237 kilograms) and overload gross weight of 42,000 pounds (19,051 kilograms).

The prototype S-64A Skycrane, N325Y, lifts an  M-113 armored personnel carrier during a demonstration at Fort Benning, Georgia. (NASM-84-8161)

The CH-54A is powered by two Pratt & Whitney JFTD12A-4A (T73-P-1) turboshaft engines, each rated at 4,000 shaft horsepower at 9,000 r.p.m. (N2) maximum continuous power at Sea Level, and 4,500 shaft horsepower at 9,500 r.p.m. (N2) for takeoff, 5-minute limit, or 30 minutes, with one engine inoperative (OEI). The maximum gas generator speed (N1) is 16,700 r.p.m. The T73-P-1 is an axial-flow free-turbine turboshaft engine with a 9-stage compressor section, 8 combustion chambers and a 4-stage turbine section (2-stage gas generator and 2-stage free turbine). It is 107.0 inches (2.718 meters) long, 30.0 inches (0.762 meters) in diameter, and weighs 966 pounds (438 kilograms). The helicopter’s main transmission is limited to a maximum 6,600 horsepower.

It has a useful load of 22,880 pounds (10,342 kilograms) and can carry a payload of 20,000 pounds (9,072 kilograms) from a single point cargo hoist.

The CH-54A has a maximum cruise speed of 115 knots (132 miles per hour, 213 kilometers per hour). It’s range is 217 nautical miles (250 miles,  402 kilometers). The CH-54A has a hover ceiling in ground effect (HIGE) of 10,600 feet (3,231 meters) and its service ceiling is 13,000 feet (3,962 meters).

The United States Army has a tradition of using Native American names for its aircraft. Tarhe (pronounced tar-HAY) was a famous chief, or sachem, of the Wyandot People of North America, who lived from 1742–1818. He was very tall and the French settlers called him “The Crane.”

Sikorsky CH-54A Tarhe 68-18448, Nevada National Guard, 16 November 1989. (Mike Freer/Wikipedia)

N325Y, the prototype Sikorsky S-64, was damaged beyond repair in an accident near Arboletes, Columbia, 19 August 1968. The FAA registration was cancelled.

© 2021, Bryan R. Swopes

9 May 1944

Martin B-26B-25-MA Marauder 41-31819, “Mild and Bitter,” photographed during its 50th combat mission. (American Air Museum in Britain FRE 1191)

9 May 1944: A Martin B-26B Marauder of the 452nd Bombardment Squadron, 322 Bombardment Group, Ninth Air Force, named Mild and Bitter, landed at RAF Bury St. Edmunds, a military airfield in Suffolk, England. When its engines had stopped, it had  completed its second combat mission of the day: an attack against an enemy airfield at Évreaux-Fauville, in the Normandy region of France.

This was the one-hundredth combat mission flown by Mild and Bitter. It had flown 310 hours, 40 minutes in combat.

In those 100 missions, the airplane had never been forced to abort for mechanical reasons, it always came back with both of its engines running, never came back with its bomb load, and most importantly, of the 166 airmen who had flown aboard, none had ever been wounded or killed.

The bomber still had the two Pratt & Whitney Double Wasp engines which had been installed at the factory, having logged 449 hour, 30 minutes, total time since new (TTSN).

The 100th mission flight crew of Martin B-26B Marauder 41-31819, “Mild and Bitter.” Left to right, 1st Lt. L.W. Rice; 2nd Lt. H.R. Harp; Capt. P. Shannon; SSgt. W.J. Bond; Sgt. R.E. Johnson, SSgt. J.K. Brandemihl. (U.S. Air Force)
Captain Paul Shannon

The flight crew for the Marauder’s final mission was Captain Paul Shannon, aircraft commander; First Lieutenant Lee W. Rice, co-pilot; Second Lieutenant Harry R. Harp, bombardier/navigator; Staff Sergeant James K. Brandemihl, flight engineer and top turret gunner; Staff Sergeant Walter J. Bond, radio operator; and Sergeant Robert E. Johnson, tail gunner.

Following this last mission. 41-31819 was returned to the United States as part of a War Bonds tour. Following that, the B-26 was

“. . . taken to Patterson Field for study. inspection, and possible salvage.”

Daily Hampshire Gazette Wed 26 July 1944

Martin B-26B-25-MA Marauder 41-31819, “Mild and Bitter,” following its 100th combat mission, May 1944. (American Air Museum in Britain FRE 4477)

FIRST HUNDRED

     Just before dark, the sleek, fast B-26 Marauder circled her English air base and slipped in to a smooth landing. Technical Sergeant William L. Stuart, a taciturn, red-haired Texan, heaved an eloquent sigh, rubbed his grease-stained hands together, got out his tools and prepared to go to work.

     The ship rolling up to his dispersal station, the “Mild & Bitter,” had just made history: she was back from her 100th combat mission. Sergeant Stuart, her crew chief, had sweated out every one of the 100 for her; now he would check her over and get her ready for Mission 101. “Mild & Bitter” thus joined the select company of famed warplanes of World War II—planes like the embattled Fortresses “Memphis Belle” and “Hell’s Angels,” and the R.A.F.’s Lancaster “S for Sugar.”

Quiet Type

     But “Mild & Bitter” had no record of hair-raising escapes. Her saga was one of good luck and almost monotonous efficiency. She had lugged 166 different airmen to battle; 26 were decorated, but not one got a Purple Heart. During her robust career she acquired some 50 flak holes, but never any damage that Bill Stuart and his ground crew could not repair overnight.

     On her first combat flight, last July 28, she led a sweep over Abbeville; the 100th mission was to bomb an airfield at Evreux, near Paris. In between she had taken the targets as they came; power plants, E-boat pens, air bases, all around France up to Holland and back. She still had her original Pratt & Whitney, 2000 Hp engines. No one had picked any soft spots for the ship, even when she neared her record. Her last two missions were done between dawn and sunset, her last four in 36 hours.

Successful Type

     Ninth Air Force men were proud of “Mild & Bitter,” proud also that her performance so well underlined the striking success in the European Theater of the whole B-26 Marauder type. Once regarded by many airmen as a hot and dangerous aircraft, the B-26 has proved to be the outstanding medium bomber of the European air war. Its combat losses (less than 0.3%) are the lowest in the theater.

     Crew Chief Stuart (who named the plane after hearing Englishmen ordering their pints of mild & bitter in a local pub) tried hard to think of something spectacular that had happened to the ship. On one raid, it is true, a burst of flak fountained up right through the open bomb bay. Hot steel fragments rattled against cold steel bombs with a hellish din. But nothing happened.

     The record of the B-26 is equally good in all other theaters of operations.

TIME Magazine, 22 May 1944, reprinted in Pilot Training Manual for the B-26, Headquarters, AAF, Office of Flying Safety, Page 7

Martin B-26B Marauder 41-31819, Mild and Bitter, 322nd Bombardment Group. (American Air Museum in Britain FRE 4478)

Mild and Bitter was a Martin B-26B-25-MA Marauder twin-engine medium bomber, U.S. Army Air Forces serial number 41-31819. It had been built by the Glenn L. Martin Company at Middle River, Maryland, in 1943. It was 58 feet, 2 inches (17.729 meters) long, with a wingspan of 71 feet, 0 inches (21.641 meters), and overall height of 21 feet, 6 inches (6.553 meters). The wings had a total area of 664.1 square feet (61.7 square meters). Their angle of incidence was 3° 30′ and they had 1° 17′ dihedral. The stabilizer had a span of 28 feet, 0 inches (8.534 meters), with -5° incidence and 8° dihedral. The bomber had an empty weight of 24,000 pounds (10,886 kilograms) and gross weight of 37,000 pounds (16,783 kilograms).

Crew Chief with Martin B-26B-25-MA Marauder 41-31819, DR-X, (American Air Museum in Britain UPL 28017)

The B-26B-25-MA was powered by two air-cooled, supercharged, 2,804.461-cubic-inch-displacement (45.956 liter), Pratt & Whitney Double Wasp 2SB-G (R-2800-41) two-row, 18-cylinder radial engines with a compression ratio of 6.65:1. The R-2800-41 had a Normal Power rating of 1,600 horsepower at 2,400 r.p.m. to 5,700 feet (1,737 meters), and 1,450 horsepower at 2,400 r.p.m. at 13,000 feet (3,962 meters). Its Takeoff Power rating was 2,000 horsepower at 2,700 r.p.m. The Military Power rating was the same as Takeoff Power up to 2,700 feet (823 meters), and 1,600 horsepower at 2,700 r.p.m. to 13,500 feet (4,115 meters). They turned 13 foot, 6 inch (4.115 meter) diameter four-bladed Curtiss Electric constant-speed, full-feathering propellers through a 2:1 gear reduction. The R-2800-41 was 6 feet, 3.72 inches (1.923 meters) long, 4 feet, 4.50 inches (1.334 meters) in diameter, and weighed 2,300 pounds (1,043 kilograms).

The B-26B had a maximum speed of 270 miles per hour (435 kilometers per hour) at Sea Level, and 282 miles per hour (454 kilometers per hour) at 15,000 feet (4,572 meters). The airplane’s service ceiling was 21,700 feet (6,614 meters). It’s maximum ferry range was 2,850 miles (4,587 kilometers).

The B-26B was armed with 11 air-cooled Browning AN-M2 .50-caliber machine guns. One was at the nose on a flexible mount, two fixed guns were on each side of the nose in “blister packs,” there were two flexible guns in the waist. A Martin 250CE power-operated dorsal gun turret had two, as did the Bell Type M-6 hydraulically-operated gun mount in the tail.

A maximum of four 2,000 pound (907 kilograms) bombs could be carried in the bomb bay.

When the B-26 entered service, it quickly gained a reputation as a dangerous airplane and was called “the widowmaker.” The airplane had relatively short wings with a small area for its size. This required that landing approaches be flown at much higher speeds than was normal practice. With one engine out, airspeed was even more critical. Some changes were made, such as a slight increase on wingspan and the size of the vertical fin and rudder, and an emphasis was made on airspeed control during training. The Marauder had the lowest rate of combat losses of any American bomber.

The Glenn L. Martin Co. produced 5,288 Marauders between 1941–1945. It served in the Pacific, Mediterranean and European combat areas. When it was removed from service at the end of World War II, the “B-26” designation was reassigned to the Douglas A-26 Invader, a twin-engine light bomber.

41-31819 (26955 A.C.) AAMiB UPL 28011

© 2019, Bryan R. Swopes

9 May 1932

Captain Albert Francis Hegenberger, Air Corps, United States Army. (NASM)

9 May 1932: At McCook Field, Ohio, Captain Albert Francis Hegenberger, Air Corps, United States Army, flew the very first solo instrument approach and landing, using a system which he had developed. The Hegenberger system, which was adopted by both civil and military aviation authorities, used a series of non-directional radio beacons (NDB) and marker beacons on the ground, along with a radio-compass and other gyroscopic instruments and radio receivers aboard the aircraft, a Consolidated NY-2 biplane.

Hegenberger had located one NDB 1,500 feet (457 meters) from the airfield boundary, and another at 1½ miles (2.4 kilometers). They were aligned with the runway centerline. Both had marker beacons which would signal that the airplane was directly overhead. The radio compass aboard the airplane would indicate the direction of the NDB relative to the airplane and lights would illuminate when it passed over the marker beacons. When the airplane was heading directly toward the NDB, the needle pointed to zero.

A Consolidated NY-2 in flight. A hood covers the rear cockpit, preventing the pilot from seeing outside. (San Diego Air and Space Museum)

Captain Hegenberger turned toward the inner NDB from a distance of 50 miles (80 kilometers). He passed over it at a pre-planned altitude. When the lights on the instrument panel came on indicating that he was directly over the inner marker beacon, he turned toward the outer NDB. Crossing the outer marker, Hegenberger made a 180° turn back toward the inner NDB and began his descent. As he passed over the inner NDB again, he reduced engine power and placed the airplane in a landing attitude and waited for it to touch down on the runway.

This flight was the first solo blind instrument flight, approach and landing. (Lt. James H. Doolittle had made a blind instrument flight in 1929, but he carried a safety pilot aboard.) For his accomplishment, Captain Hegenberger was awarded an oak leaf cluster (a second award) for his Distinguished Flying Cross, and received the Collier Trophy, an annual award for the greatest achievement in aeronautics in America.

Captain Albert F. Hegenberger, Air Corps, United States Army, was presented the Collier Trophy by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, 22 July 1935.

Within one week, the Civil Aeronautics Board created a new pilot rating and required that all commercial pilots demonstrate proficiency in instrument flight. In 1935, the CAB adopted Hegenberger’s system and ordered equipment installed at all major airports between New York and Los Angeles.

The Air Corps Newsletter reported the event:

FIRST SOLO BLIND FLIGHT A SUCCESS

By Lieut. Joseph S. Edgerton, Air Reserve.

ANOTHER milestone in aviation progress was reached a few days ago when Capt. Albert F. Hegenberger, Army Air Corps, made the first “blind” solo flight, seeing nothing but the instruments before him from take-off to landing. If the elements which made Hegenberger’s achievement possible can be applied to air transport operations, one of the greatest foes of aviation can be whipped.

     Dense ground fog on an air transport today brings all flying to a halt. As long as the fog holds no mail or passengers move by air. The only solution is artificial fog dispersion or “blind landings” through the fog. Fog dispersion so far is impracticable, if not impossible. Blind landings, apparently, form the practicable solution.

     Until Captain Hegenberger’s solo flight, no man had landed “blind” and alone though “Jimmy” Doolittle three years ¹ ago landed blind with a check pilot aboard to take over the controls in case Doolittle’s skill failed or his calculations went awry.

     Hegenberger used radio to guide him into the field, to mark for him the point at which to begin his glide and to warn him when he neared the field boundary. He employed a super-sensitive altimeter to indicate his altitude above the landing area. Other flight instruments were normal, including artificial horizon, gyro compass, radio compass and standard flight instruments. The flight was made at Dayton, Ohio, home of the Air Corps Materiel Division, where Captain Hegenberger is stationed as navigation officer.

     Modest to a fault, quiet and unassuming, Captain Hegenberger is a brilliant figure in aviation, though seldom in the limelight. he first came to public fame when he flew from California to Hawaii with Lieut. Lester Maitland, ² the first Pacific flight. He is regarded as one of the world’s three foremost aerial navigators.

     So retiring is Hegenberger that the world remained for many days in the dark as to his achievement. Captain Hegenberger was on the high seas, enroute to Rome to attend the first international meeting of ocean flyers when the story of his success was given to the world by F. Trubee Davision, Assistant Secretary of War for Aeronautics, who learned of the flight from Hegenberger’s official report.

     Of the crucial moment when Captain Hegenberger, alone in his swiftly moving plane, felt his way toward the surface of the earth which he could not see, he has little to say in his report. It is difficult for the layman to put himself in Hegenberger’s position during that moment. To get something of the idea, imagine yourself driving in an automobile. The windows are all curtained so that you can get no glimpse of anything outside the car, no sky, no road – nothing but the blank curtains and the instruments. You have a radio direction finder, with a little arrow showing when you deviate to the right or left of a given course. You are driving at 50 miles an hour across an open field. At the far side of the field is a great yawning chasm of appropriate depth – say something like the Grand Canyon. There is but one avenue of safety, a very narrow bridge. If you miss the bridge, curtains. A radio beacon is guiding you to the bridge and your only indication is the little pointer. You may not slacken speed but you must hit the bridge precisely.

     Your problem, however, would be much simpler than Hegenberger’s. Gravity would hold you on the ground and you wouldn’t have to worry about that. You would have to worry only about whether you were too far to the left or right. Hegenberger had to worry, not only about whether he was to the right or left of the runway, but also whether he was too high or too low and whether he was actually over the landing field or over some other place or terrain not at all suitable for the landing of airplanes.

     It must have been with a feeling of exquisite relief that he felt the wheels touch the ground and the plane roll to a stop safely. Of this feature of the experiment, however Capt. Hegenberger has only this to say: “The radio transmitters mark the field boundary and all you have to do is just fly along the ground, take things gently and easily, and when you feel it hit – well, just ease back on the stick.”

     A magnificent flight, and one worthy of a large and imposing monument on the green fields of aeronautical progress.      – Washington STAR

Ed. Note:

     According to the announcement of Mr. Davidson regarding this first solo Blind Flight, Captain Hegenberger took off and, after flying for five minutes, landed solely by the air of the instruments on the panel in front of him without once seeing outside of the cockpit. This successful flight was the seventh in a series of nine attempts. During the first three flights, observers were carried in the plane who knew nothing of flying. On the seventh flight, Capt. Hegenberger took off alone, made two 180-degree turns and landed at the take-off point. He was guided during this flight by the various instruments already enumerated. One the ground were three radio sets, two of which were of obsolescent type. The cockpit occupied by Captain Hegenberger had a shielded cover which cut off all view outside the plane. He first tuned in on a transmitter distant from the field to simulate cross-country flying. After executing the first 180-degree turn, he tuned in first on a portable transmitter placed 1,000 feet from the border of the field and then on another a mile and a half away. Although flying away from the field he was able by lining up the two radio transmitters to ascertain the correct flight path on which to return for his landing. Executing his second 180-degree turn at a height of 1,000 feet, he began gliding down as he headed for the mile-and-a half station.

     Captain Hegenberger explained that for regular  blind landings certain refinements of equipment will be needed. He expressed the desire to start a graduate class of Air Corps officers for training in blind flight take-offs and landings. This Army pilot of Hawaiian Flight fame is now on duty as navigation officer at the Materiel Division, Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio. His blind flying experiments are a continuation of those carried out under the Daniel Guggenheim Fund for the Promotion of Aeronautics by former Lieut. James H. Doolittle, now a Major in the Air Corps Reserve, and as brilliant a figure in commercial aviation as he was while actively connected with the Air Corps. On September 24, 1929, Major Doolittle first demonstrated to the world the possibility of landing an airplane by instruments alone. He carried a check pilot to take over the controls in case of emergency.

     It may be stated that Captain Hegenberger is a pioneer in blind flying, for nearly nine years ago, on September 6, 1923, he flew the greater part of the journey from Dayton to Boston completely out of sight of land. Of course, there were no hooded cockpits in those days but, so far as vision of the ground was concerned, Captain Hegenberger and his passenger, Mr. Bradley Jones, Navigation Engineer at McCook Field, were not much better off that the present day airman piloting a covered wagon, aerial type.

     Despite unfavorable weather conditions, they took off from McCook Field in a DeH at ten o’clock and landed at Boston Airport 7 hours and 25 minutes later. The sky was obscured by clouds which stretched from 300 to 7,000 feet altitude. After sighting Ohio State Univeriity at Columbus, the clouds became so dense that the flyers climbed above them and found themselves in clear sunlight  little above 10,000 feet. A solid layer of clouds stretched beneath them. Not a glimpse of a land mark was obtained for a number of hours. The entire State of Pennsylvania was passed over without their obtaining a glimpse of it. Flying by instruments alone, Captain Hegenberger, at about 3:40 p.m., estimated that he should be close to the Hudson River, so he descended through the clouds and crossed this body of water not five minutes later. The remainder of the journey to Boston was made under the clouds. The successful termination of this flight demonstrated the efficiency of air navigation instruments even in those early days of Army aviation.

Air Corps News Letter, Vol. XVI, No. 6, 26 May 1932, at pages 207–208

1st Lieutenant Albert Francis Hegenberger, Air Service, United States Army, circa 1920–1925. (George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress, Call Number LC-B2-5469-15)

Albert Francis Hegenberger was born 30 September 1895 at Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America. He was the second of five children of Alphonse Frederick Hegenberger, a clerk and immigrant from Bavaria, and Emma Amanda Buegler Hegenberger, of Switzerland.

In 1913 Hegenberger entered the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (M.I.T.), Cambridge, Massachusetts, as a student of aeronautical engineering.

Following the United States’ entry into World War I, Albert F. Hegenberger enlisted as a private in the Aviation Section, Signal Corps, United States Army, 14 September 1917. He was assigned to the School of Military Aeronautics at M.I.T., graduating in December 1917. After flight training at Ellington Field, Houston, Texas, Hegenberger was commissioned a second lieutenant, Aviation Section, Signal Officers Reserve Corps, 6 April 1918. This commission was vacated 19 September 1920, and he was appointed a second lieutenant, Air Service, retroactive to 20 July 1920. He was promoted to the rank of first lieutenant, effective that  that same date.

In October 1918, Second Lieutenant Hegenberger returned to M.I.T., and entered the School of Aeronautical Engineering. He graduated in February 1919.

Lieutenant Hegenberger married Miss Louise B. Berchtold in 1919. They would have two sons, Albert F., Jr., born in 1920, and Robert F., born in 1924.

In October 1923, 1st Lieutenant Hegenberger was assigned to the 72nd Bombardment Squadron, 5th Composite Squadron, at Luke Field on the Island of Oahu, Territory of Hawaii. The squadron was equipped with the DH-4 and the twin-engine Martin NBS-1 bomber. In March 1925, Lieutenant Hegenberger was transferred to the 23rd Bombardment Squadron, 5th Composite Group.

Lieutenant Hegenberger was next assigned as chief of the Equipment Branch, Material Division, at McCook Field, Dayton Ohio. He served in that position from October 1926 until June 1927, when became chief of the Instrument and Navigation Unit.

At 7:09 a.m., Pacific Daylight Time, 28 June 1927, 1st Lieutenant Lester J. Maitland and 1st Lieutenant Albert F. Hegenberger, Air Service, United States Army, took off from Oakland Municipal Airport, California, aboard an Atlantic-Fokker C-2, serial  number A.S. 26-202, Bird of Paradise. Their destination was Wheeler Field, Honolulu, Territory of Hawaii, 2,407 miles (3,874 kilometers) across the Pacific Ocean.

“Bird of Paradise”, Atlantic-Fokker C-2 serial number 26-202, arrives at Wheeler Field, Honolulu, Territory of Hawaii after a non-stop flight from Oakland, California, 6:29 a.m., 29 June 1927. (U.S. Air Force)

After 25 hours, 50 minutes of flight, Bird of Paradise landed at Wheeler Field, 6:29 a.m., local time, 29 June 1927. It had completed the first Transpacific Flight.

For their achievement, both officers were awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. They were also awarded the Mackay Trophy for the most meritorious flight of the year.

Secretary of War George Henry Dern presents Captain Albert F. Hegenberger the Distinguished Flying Cross, 18 May 1934. (Harris & Ewing)

1st Lieutenant Hegenberger continued in his technical assignments at McCook and Wright Fields. On 3 January 1932, he was promoted to the rank of captain.

Mrs. Hegenberger died 7 August 1933.

In August 1935, Captain Hegenberger was assigned to the 30th Bombardment  Squadron at Rockwell Field, San Diego, California. The squadron moved to March Field, near Riverside, California, and transitioned to the Martin B-10. Captain Hegenberger was advanced to the rank of major (temporary), 2 October 1935.

On 22 July 1937, Major Hegenberger married Ms. Jewel Lilly Van Houten (née Jewel Lilly Baker) at Detroit, Michigan.

From August 1937 to June 1939, Major Hegenberger was assigned to the Air Corps Tactical School, Maxwell Field, Montgomery, Alabama. Upon graduation, he was assigned to the 5th Bombardment Group at Hickam Field, Honolulu, Territory of Hawaii. The 5th was equipped with Keystone B-3 and B-4 bombers.

Major Hegenberger was appointed operations officer of the 18th Wing at Hickam, and then in November 1940, became assistant chief of staff for operations of the Hawaiian Air Force, headquartered at Fort Shafter, near Honolulu. Hegenberger was promoted to lieutenant colonel (temporary), on 30 December 1940. This rank became permanent 18 December 1941.

In April 1941, Lieutenant Colonel Hegenberger took command of the 11th Bombardment Group. The group was equipped with Douglas B-18 Bolo, but began receiving Boeing B-17 Flying Fortresses the following month.

Hegenberger was promoted to colonel (temporary), 5 January 1942. He took command of 18th Bombardment Group and Seventh Bomber Command. He was appointed Colonel, Army of the United States (A.U.S.), 8 June 1942. Returning to the continental United States, Colonel Hegenberger became assistant chief of staff for operations, Second Air Force, and commanding officer, II Bomber Command, at Fort George Wright, Spokane, Washington. In October 1942, Colonel Hegenberger took command of the 21st Bombardment Wing, based at Smoky Hill Army Air Field, Salina, Kansas, and later, Topeka Army Air Field, Topeka, Kansas.

Colonel Hegenberger was promoted to the rank of brigadier general, A.U.S., 18 September 1943. In January 1944, he was appointed Chief of Staff, Second Air Force, at Colorado Springs Army Air Field, Colorado Springs, Colorado.

The following year, January 1945, Brigadier General Hegenberger became Chief of Staff, Fourteenth Air Force, based at Chunking, China.

“Major General C. J. Chow, Director of the Commission on Aeronautical Affairs in Chungking, China, and Brig. General Albert F. Hegenberger, Chief of Staff of the 14th Air Force.” (U.S. Embassy and Consulates in China)

Hegenberger became commanding general, Tenth Air Force, also based in China, in August 1945. He was promoted to major general, A.U.S., 7 September 1945. From December 1945 to July 1946, Major General Hegenberger served at Headquarters Army Air Forces. He was then assigned to Pacific Air Command, United States Army (PACUSA), in Japan. He assumed command of the 1st Air Division, Kadena Army Air Base, Okinawa, in July 1946.

In December 1947, Hegenberger was assigned to the Weapons Group, Headquarters, U.S. Air Force. He then served on the staff of the Assistant Deputy Chief of Staff, Operations, for Atomic Energy. On 19 February 1948, Hegenberger’s previous rank of brigadier general, United States Air Force, became permanent, with date of rank retroactive to 19 September 1943. (He continued in the temporary rank of major general.)

Major General Hegenberger retired from the U.S. Air Force on 31 August 1949 after nearly 32 years of military service. During his career, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal, Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross with one oak leaf cluster (two awards), World War I Victory Medal, American Defense Service Medal, American Campaign Medal, World War II Victory Medal, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal; Order of the Cloud and Banner (Republic of China); and Grande Ufficiale dell’Ordine della Corona d’Italia (Grand Officer, Order of the Crown of Italy).

Major General Albert Francis Hegenberger, United States Air Force (Retired) died at Goldenrod, Florida, 31 August 1983, at the age 87 years. He was buried at All Faiths Memorial Park, Casselbury, Florida.

¹ 24 September 1929. The check pilot was Lieutenant Benjamin Scovill Kelsey. Please see TDiA at: https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/24-september-1929/

² 28–29 June 1927. Please see TDiA at: https://www.thisdayinaviation.com/28-29-june-19/

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