Post by Dave Homewood on Mar 16, 2017 21:28:58 GMT 12
This article comes from the Evening Post, dated 21st of April 1917
WITH THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS
WELLINGTON MAN'S EXPERIENCES
FIGHTING IN THE AIR.
One of the most interesting accounts of air warfare so far received in Wellington is contained in a letter from Lieut. Arthur Coningham, R.F.C., of this city, to his mother. Lieut. Coningham is well known here as a rifle shot, and is an old Wellington College boy.
Describing a typical day "in the air," he says : "It was a perfect day, the first for weeks, and the whole place was in a bustle. Wrapped up, and then went and tried our engines. Mine was going beautifully, as I'm lucky in having a good engine man and also a very good rigger. They work well, and keep the 'bus in excellent order. Time came, and we started off, each leaving the ground at fifteen seconds' interval. We had each been told what position to take up at a certain rendezvous at 5000 ft. I was third off the ground, and really it is a sight to see a patrol start off, especially the numbers used nowadays.
"Not a breath of wind—and at 3000 ft those lovely, large, billow-like clouds that you see about the sky in summer with the silver edge around them. We passed up through one of the gaps, and then! what a sight it was. I had time to notice every little bit of the wonderful view. The nearest approach to what it looked like were the photos Shackleton took down at the South Pole. Only, instead of ice and snow, they were lovely rounded airy clouds. The bright sun shining on them filled them with all rainbow colours, and, mixed in with the snowy whiteness, made a sight gorgeous in the extreme. But I had not time to waste on scenery, so it had to look after itself.
READY TO START.
"We were soon at the rendezvous, and all proceeded to take up station. The leader gave the signal, and off we went for the lines. Reached there in three or four minutes, and for the first hour nothing much happened. Then we made right over into Hun Land, behind B------, and the fun started. Whooooff! Wooooff! then bang, wallop! and I had been lifted bodily about 20ft. Lucky I was strapped in. We always are. It was Archie at work. Archie is what we call their anti-aircraft guns. They are marvellously straight, very clever, and work with the wiliness of the Boche. They were going it hammer and tongs, bursting all around us; everybody dodging like blazes, turning our machines inside out, missing one another by feet. This lasted for a quarter of an hour.
"One machine had fallen out, and the poor chap is in the hospital now. He won't fly again. Just reached our side of the lines, but hit a tree, or stump of one, turned somersault, crashed; fractured arm, and badly shattered, and concussion. The machine was no sooner on the ground, or rather what was left of it, than'all the Huns' guns within range opened fire on it. So it was lucky he ever reached the hospital. We went on, and then all of a sudden Archie 'stopped. That meant there were Hun machines above us, waiting to attack. I had a fast machine, so, to keep behind, I was turning like a corkscrew; the leader was going straight.
" On one of my turns I went too far, I s'pose, because all of a sudden pop! pop! pop! like the sound of a motor bike. It was a Bosche diving on me, and firing his machine gun. I put the 'bus on her wing tip, came around in a spiral, and looked round, but Brother Hun had departed. I kept closer to the party though. It was a cheap lesson, and, by all the rules of the game he should have had me. They are always just waiting round for stragglers, so you see how much depends on one's engine.
"Towards the end of the two hours the leader gave the signal to attack, as there were three enemy machines about one mile away, and 3000 ft lower. He dived, and three of us went down with him. A dive means coming almost vertically down, and sometimes past, the vertical. We can dive faster than any type yet built, for our latest machine is meant for it. Just before opening fire I glanced at the speed, 178 miles an hour! Of course, we have our engines shut off, or else they would burst.
CUNNING HUNS.
"We had come down right on them, and it was our turn to pop away. Only had time to get off a drum, when they dived. The cunning beggars aimed straight towards one of their "Archie" batteries, firing over their tails at us, so we had to get out of the way, and climb up to where the others were waiting. It was about time to be returning, and shortly afterwards our leader gave the signal, and we came back at top.
"Landed, and on account of the last dive through the clouds. everything was covered in frost. All the instrument glasses, etc., and I was like a wet rag on getting out. It's the strain. A chap can't help it. There are so many things to do, look out for, and regulate, and only a fraction of a second to do it in, that one is at a tension all the time, quite unconsciously. Consequently when you reach home, and relax, the reaction sets in. That's why we go home for three months every six or seven months. You can imagine what its like in summer, with the perfect weather and the same thing day after day.
GREAT SPORT!
"I was out again in the afternoon with Aizelwood. We got 'archied' fairly badly, but no fun with Huns, and came back chasing one another over the ground about 20 feet up, zooming trees, etc. Great sport! We had a great dive from 5000 feet to 2000 feet. It was what is called a stall dive. Stalling means you lose flying speed, and drop. You see, an aeroplane is only a flying machine when, it goes through the air at and above a certain minimum speed. When you drop below that speed it is no longer a flying machine, but a piece of mechanism, which falls to earth as such. But in the case of an aeroplane, it falls until it has reached a high speed again, and consequently become a flying machine, and the pilot regains control. It depends on the type how far they fall before coming under control — some 500 feet, some 2000 feet, and so on. If you can get what all this means, you understand how nearly all the fatalities occur at these schools. The most fatal height for anything to happen is between 50 feet and 300 feet, and it's dangerous up to 2500 feet. Higher up, at 7000, feet, to any higher height you like, you are quite safe, and can always recover, no matter what happens, unless your machine collapses or is in pieces. The one exception is a real spinning nose dive. A Hun got into one here last week — and crashed. Nobody knew what the mess was, but most of the engine was found six feet underground. Hard ground, too! It's stalling on turns near the ground that kills so many pupils in England.
"Well, at 5000 feet we shut off engines. By keeping her level after shutting, she quickly loses speed. Then things happen. She trembles all over, gives a final shudder; then, like lightning, down goes her nose, and you are dropping straight as a plummet. Our 'buses flatten out of their own accord, so you have to keep their noses-down to get a real speed up. I watched my pitot tube (air speed indicator, and pronounced peeto), and saw the miles mount up, at the same time pressing the 'joy stick' forward to keep her nose down 100,130,140,160,170,180,185, and then, at that terrible speed, when the wires and everything were shrilly screaming, very slowly and gradually commenced to flatten out. The shrieking of the wires gradually lessened, and when she went down to 80 miles'per hour I put on the engine again, and we came back, as aforementioned. Every movement, when the 'bus is going at anything above 120, must be gradual. If, when diving at 160 even, you let your hand suddenly come back three inches, she will probably fold up, and then down you come like lead!"
WITH THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS
WELLINGTON MAN'S EXPERIENCES
FIGHTING IN THE AIR.
One of the most interesting accounts of air warfare so far received in Wellington is contained in a letter from Lieut. Arthur Coningham, R.F.C., of this city, to his mother. Lieut. Coningham is well known here as a rifle shot, and is an old Wellington College boy.
Describing a typical day "in the air," he says : "It was a perfect day, the first for weeks, and the whole place was in a bustle. Wrapped up, and then went and tried our engines. Mine was going beautifully, as I'm lucky in having a good engine man and also a very good rigger. They work well, and keep the 'bus in excellent order. Time came, and we started off, each leaving the ground at fifteen seconds' interval. We had each been told what position to take up at a certain rendezvous at 5000 ft. I was third off the ground, and really it is a sight to see a patrol start off, especially the numbers used nowadays.
"Not a breath of wind—and at 3000 ft those lovely, large, billow-like clouds that you see about the sky in summer with the silver edge around them. We passed up through one of the gaps, and then! what a sight it was. I had time to notice every little bit of the wonderful view. The nearest approach to what it looked like were the photos Shackleton took down at the South Pole. Only, instead of ice and snow, they were lovely rounded airy clouds. The bright sun shining on them filled them with all rainbow colours, and, mixed in with the snowy whiteness, made a sight gorgeous in the extreme. But I had not time to waste on scenery, so it had to look after itself.
READY TO START.
"We were soon at the rendezvous, and all proceeded to take up station. The leader gave the signal, and off we went for the lines. Reached there in three or four minutes, and for the first hour nothing much happened. Then we made right over into Hun Land, behind B------, and the fun started. Whooooff! Wooooff! then bang, wallop! and I had been lifted bodily about 20ft. Lucky I was strapped in. We always are. It was Archie at work. Archie is what we call their anti-aircraft guns. They are marvellously straight, very clever, and work with the wiliness of the Boche. They were going it hammer and tongs, bursting all around us; everybody dodging like blazes, turning our machines inside out, missing one another by feet. This lasted for a quarter of an hour.
"One machine had fallen out, and the poor chap is in the hospital now. He won't fly again. Just reached our side of the lines, but hit a tree, or stump of one, turned somersault, crashed; fractured arm, and badly shattered, and concussion. The machine was no sooner on the ground, or rather what was left of it, than'all the Huns' guns within range opened fire on it. So it was lucky he ever reached the hospital. We went on, and then all of a sudden Archie 'stopped. That meant there were Hun machines above us, waiting to attack. I had a fast machine, so, to keep behind, I was turning like a corkscrew; the leader was going straight.
" On one of my turns I went too far, I s'pose, because all of a sudden pop! pop! pop! like the sound of a motor bike. It was a Bosche diving on me, and firing his machine gun. I put the 'bus on her wing tip, came around in a spiral, and looked round, but Brother Hun had departed. I kept closer to the party though. It was a cheap lesson, and, by all the rules of the game he should have had me. They are always just waiting round for stragglers, so you see how much depends on one's engine.
"Towards the end of the two hours the leader gave the signal to attack, as there were three enemy machines about one mile away, and 3000 ft lower. He dived, and three of us went down with him. A dive means coming almost vertically down, and sometimes past, the vertical. We can dive faster than any type yet built, for our latest machine is meant for it. Just before opening fire I glanced at the speed, 178 miles an hour! Of course, we have our engines shut off, or else they would burst.
CUNNING HUNS.
"We had come down right on them, and it was our turn to pop away. Only had time to get off a drum, when they dived. The cunning beggars aimed straight towards one of their "Archie" batteries, firing over their tails at us, so we had to get out of the way, and climb up to where the others were waiting. It was about time to be returning, and shortly afterwards our leader gave the signal, and we came back at top.
"Landed, and on account of the last dive through the clouds. everything was covered in frost. All the instrument glasses, etc., and I was like a wet rag on getting out. It's the strain. A chap can't help it. There are so many things to do, look out for, and regulate, and only a fraction of a second to do it in, that one is at a tension all the time, quite unconsciously. Consequently when you reach home, and relax, the reaction sets in. That's why we go home for three months every six or seven months. You can imagine what its like in summer, with the perfect weather and the same thing day after day.
GREAT SPORT!
"I was out again in the afternoon with Aizelwood. We got 'archied' fairly badly, but no fun with Huns, and came back chasing one another over the ground about 20 feet up, zooming trees, etc. Great sport! We had a great dive from 5000 feet to 2000 feet. It was what is called a stall dive. Stalling means you lose flying speed, and drop. You see, an aeroplane is only a flying machine when, it goes through the air at and above a certain minimum speed. When you drop below that speed it is no longer a flying machine, but a piece of mechanism, which falls to earth as such. But in the case of an aeroplane, it falls until it has reached a high speed again, and consequently become a flying machine, and the pilot regains control. It depends on the type how far they fall before coming under control — some 500 feet, some 2000 feet, and so on. If you can get what all this means, you understand how nearly all the fatalities occur at these schools. The most fatal height for anything to happen is between 50 feet and 300 feet, and it's dangerous up to 2500 feet. Higher up, at 7000, feet, to any higher height you like, you are quite safe, and can always recover, no matter what happens, unless your machine collapses or is in pieces. The one exception is a real spinning nose dive. A Hun got into one here last week — and crashed. Nobody knew what the mess was, but most of the engine was found six feet underground. Hard ground, too! It's stalling on turns near the ground that kills so many pupils in England.
"Well, at 5000 feet we shut off engines. By keeping her level after shutting, she quickly loses speed. Then things happen. She trembles all over, gives a final shudder; then, like lightning, down goes her nose, and you are dropping straight as a plummet. Our 'buses flatten out of their own accord, so you have to keep their noses-down to get a real speed up. I watched my pitot tube (air speed indicator, and pronounced peeto), and saw the miles mount up, at the same time pressing the 'joy stick' forward to keep her nose down 100,130,140,160,170,180,185, and then, at that terrible speed, when the wires and everything were shrilly screaming, very slowly and gradually commenced to flatten out. The shrieking of the wires gradually lessened, and when she went down to 80 miles'per hour I put on the engine again, and we came back, as aforementioned. Every movement, when the 'bus is going at anything above 120, must be gradual. If, when diving at 160 even, you let your hand suddenly come back three inches, she will probably fold up, and then down you come like lead!"
