



Produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
images generously made available by The Internet
Archive/American Libraries.)









LEARNING TO FLY


  [Illustration: _Photo by Topical Press Agency._
  A SCHOOL MACHINE WELL ALOFT.]


  LEARNING TO FLY

  A PRACTICAL MANUAL FOR
  BEGINNERS

  BY

  CLAUDE GRAHAME-WHITE
  AND
  HARRY HARPER

  _FULLY ILLUSTRATED_

  NEW YORK
  THE MACMILLAN COMPANY


  PRINTED IN ENGLAND.




CONTENTS


       I. THEORIES OF TUITION                                  9

      II. TEMPERAMENT AND THE AIRMAN                          20

     III. FIRST EXPERIENCES WITH AN AEROPLANE                 24
          (AS DESCRIBED BY MR. GRAHAME-WHITE)

      IV. THE CONTROLLING OF LATEST-TYPE CRAFT                31

       V. THE STAGES OF TUITION                               38

      VI. THE TEST FLIGHTS                                    53

     VII. PERILS OF THE AIR                                   56

    VIII. FACTORS THAT MAKE FOR SAFETY                        76

      IX. A STUDY OF THE METHODS OF GREAT PILOTS              82

       X. CROSS-COUNTRY FLYING                                92

      XI. AVIATION AS A PROFESSION                            99

     XII. THE FUTURE OF FLIGHT                               104




ILLUSTRATIONS


    A SCHOOL MACHINE WELL ALOFT                   _Frontispiece_

                                                       FACE PAGE

    GRAHAME-WHITE SCHOOL BIPLANE                              34

    THE CONTROLS OF A SCHOOL BIPLANE                          36

    REAR VIEW OF A SCHOOL BIPLANE                             38

    POWER-PLANT OF A SCHOOL BIPLANE                           40

    MOTOR AND OTHER GEAR--ANOTHER VIEW                        42

    PUPIL AND INSTRUCTOR READY FOR A FLIGHT                   44

    PUPIL AND INSTRUCTOR IN FLIGHT (1)                        46

    PUPIL AND INSTRUCTOR IN FLIGHT (2)                        48

    PUPIL AND INSTRUCTOR IN FLIGHT (3)                        50




Authors' Note.--The photographs to illustrate this book, as set forth
above, were taken at the Grahame-White Flying School, the London
Aerodrome, Hendon, by operators of the Topical Press Agency, 10 and 11,
Red Lion Court, Fleet Street, London, E.C.




AUTHORS' NOTE


This book is written for the novice--and for the novice who is
completely a novice. We have assumed, in writing it, that it will come
into the hands of men who, having determined to enter this great and
growing industry of aviation, and having decided wisely to learn to
fly as their preliminary step, feel they would like to gain
beforehand--before, that is to say, they take the plunge of selecting
and joining a flying school--all that can be imparted non-technically,
and in such a brief manual as this, not only as to the stages of
tuition and the tests to be undergone, but also in regard to such
general questions as, having once turned their thoughts towards flying,
they take a sudden and a very active interest.

It has been our aim, bearing in mind this first and somewhat restless
interest, to cover a wide rather than a restricted field; and this
being so, and remembering also the limitations of space, we cannot
pretend--and do not for a moment wish it to be assumed that we
pretend--to cover exhaustively the various topics we discuss. Our
endeavour, in the pages at our disposal, has not been to satisfy
completely this first curiosity of the novice, but rather to stimulate
and strengthen it, and guide it, so to say, on lines which will lead
to a fuller and more detailed research.

It is from this point of view, as a short yet comprehensive
introduction, and particularly as an aid to the beginner in his choice
of a school, and in what may be called his mental preparation for the
stages of his tuition, that we desire our book to be regarded.

  C. G.-W.
  H. H.

  _April_, 1916.




CHAPTER I

THEORIES OF TUITION


Only eight years ago, in 1908, it was declared impossible for one man
to teach another to fly. Those few men who had risen from the ground
in aeroplanes, notably the Wright brothers, were held to be endowed by
nature in some very peculiar way; to be men who possessed some
remarkable and hitherto unexplained sense of equilibrium. That these
men would be able to take other men--ordinary members of the human
race--and teach them in their turn to navigate the air, was a
suggestion that was ridiculed. But Wilbur Wright, after a series of
brilliant flights, began actually to instruct his first pupils; doing
so with the same care and precision, and the same success, that had
characterised all his pioneer work. And these first men who were
taught to fly on strange machines--as apart from the pioneers who had
taught themselves to fly with craft of their own construction--made
progress which confounded the sceptics. They went in easy and
leisurely fashion from stage to stage, and learned to become aviators
without difficulty, and mainly without accident.

After this, increasing in numbers from two or three to a dozen, and
from a dozen to fifty and then a hundred, the army of airmen grew
until it could be totalled in thousands. Instead of being haphazard,
the teaching of men to fly became a business. Flying schools were
established; courses of tuition were arranged; certain pilots
specialised in the work of instruction. It was shown beyond doubt that,
instead of its being necessary for an aviator to be a species of
acrobat, any average man could learn to fly.

Certainly a man who intends to fly should be constitutionally sound;
this point is important. When in an aeroplane, one passes very quickly
through the air, and such rapid movement--and also the effect of
varying altitudes--entail a certain physical strain. A man with a weak
heart might find himself affected adversely by flying; while one whose
lungs were not sound might find that his breathing was impeded
seriously by a swift passage through the air. More than one fatality,
doubtful as to its exact cause, has been attributed to the collapse of
a pilot who was not organically sound, or who ascended when in poor
health. And here again is an important point. No man, even a normally
healthy man, should attempt to pilot a machine in flight when he is
feeling unwell. In such cases the strain of flying, and the effect of
the swift motion through the air, may cause a temporary collapse; and
in the air, when a man is alone in a machine, any slight attack of
faintness may be sufficient to bring about a fatality.

A fair judgment of speed, and an eye for distance, are very helpful to
the man who would learn to fly, and it is here that a man who has
motored a good deal, driving his own car, is at advantage at first
over one who has not. But otherwise, and writing generally, any man of
average quickness of movement, of average agility, can learn without
difficulty to control an aeroplane in flight. It is wrong to imagine
that exceptional men are required. An unusual facility, of course,
marks the expert pilot; but we are writing of men who would attain an
average skill.

There has been discussion as to the age at which a man should learn to
fly, or as to the introduction of age limits generally in the piloting
of aircraft. But this introduces a difficult question; one which
depends so entirely on the individual, and regarding which we need the
data that will be provided by further experience. Some men retain from
year to year, and to a remarkable extent, the faculties that are
necessary; others lose them rapidly. The late Mr. S. F. Cody was
flying constantly, and with a very conspicuous skill, at an age when
he might have been thought unfit. But then he was a man of a rare
vitality and a great enthusiasm--a man who, though he flew so often,
declared that each of his flights was an "adventure." Taking men in
the average one may say this: the younger a man is, when he learns to
fly, the better for him. Much depends, naturally, on the sort of
flying he intends to do after he has attained proficiency. If he is
going to fly in war, or under conditions that impose a heavy strain,
then he must be a young man. But if he intends to fly for his own
pleasure, and under favourable conditions, then this factor of age
loses much of its importance, and it is only necessary that a man
should retain say, an ordinary activity, and a normal quickness of
vision and of judgment.

Flying is not difficult. It is in a sense too easy, and this is just
where its hidden danger lies. If a pupil is carefully taught, and
flies at first only when the weather conditions are suitable, he will
find it surprisingly easy to pilot an aeroplane. That it is not
dangerous to learn to fly is proved daily. Though hundreds and
thousands of pupils have now passed through the schools, anything in
the nature of a serious accident is very rarely chronicled. This
immunity from accident is due largely to the care and experience of
instructors, and also to the fact that all pupils pass through a very
carefully graduated tuition, and that no hazardous flights are allowed;
while another and an important element of safety lies in the fact
that no flying is permitted at the schools unless weather conditions
are favourable. It is now a fair contention that, provided a man
exercises judgment, and ascends only in weather that is reasonably
suitable, there is no more danger in flying an aeroplane than in
driving a motor-car.

Much depends of course on the dexterity of the pupil, and particularly
on his manual dexterity--on what is known, colloquially, as "hands."
Some men, even after they have been carefully taught, are apt to
remain heavy and clumsy in their control. Others, though, seem to
acquire the right touch almost by instinct; and these are the men who
have in them the making of good pilots. Horsemen refer to "hands" when
they speak of a man who rides well; and in flying, if a man is to
handle a machine skilfully, there is need for that same instinctive
delicacy of touch.

Nowadays, when a pupil joins a well-established flying school, he
finds that everything is made easy and pleasant for him. Most men
enjoy very thoroughly the period of their tuition. A friendly regard
springs up between the pupils and their instructors, and men who have
learned to fly, and are now expert pilots, bear with them very
pleasant reminiscences of their "school" days. But there were times,
and it seems already in the dim and distant past, when learning to fly
was a strange, haphazard, and hardly pleasant experience; though it
had a sporting interest certainly, and offered such prospects of
adventure as commended it to bold spirits who were prepared for
hardship, and had a well-filled purse. The last requirement was very
necessary. In the bad old days, amusing days though they were without
doubt, no fixed charge was made to cover such breakages, or damage to
an aeroplane, as a pupil might be guilty of during his period of
instruction. These items of damage--broken propellers, planes, or
landing gear--were all entered up very carefully on special bills, and
presented from time to time to the dismayed novice; and a man who was
clumsy or impetuous found learning to fly an expensive affair. There
was a pupil who joined a school soon after Bleriot's crossing of the
Channel by air. It was a monoplane school; and the monoplane, unless a
man is careful and very patient, is not an easy machine to learn to
fly. This beginner was not patient; he was indeed more than usually
impetuous. His landings, in particular, were often abrupt. He broke
propellers, frequently, to say nothing of wings and of alighting gear.
And of all these breakages a note was made. Bills were handed to
him--long and intricate bills, with each item amounting to so many
hundreds of francs. Having a sense of humour, the pupil began to paper
his shed with these formidable bills, allowing them to hang in
festoons around the walls. What it cost him to learn to fly nobody
except himself knew. He paid away certainly, in his bills for
breakages, enough money to buy several aeroplanes.

This was in the early days, when aviators were few and all flying
schools experimental. To-day a pupil need not concern himself, even if
he does damage a machine. Before beginning his tuition he pays his fee,
one definite sum which covers all contingencies that may arise. It
includes any and all damage that he may do to the aircraft of his
instructors; it covers also any third-party claims that may be made
against him--claims that is to say from any third person who might be
injured in an accident for which he was responsible. This inclusive
fee varies, in schools of repute, from L75 to L100.

The modern aerodromes, or schools of flight, at which a pupil receives
his tuition, have been evolved rapidly from the humblest of
beginnings. The first flying grounds were, as a rule, nothing more
than open tracts of land, such as offered a fairly smooth
landing-place and an absence of dangerous wind-gusts. Then, as
aviation developed, pilots came together at these grounds, and sheds
were built to house their craft. And after this, quickly as a rule, an
organisation was built up. Beginning from rough shelters, erected
hastily on the brink of a stretch of open land, there grew row upon
row of neatly-built sheds, with workshops near them in which aircraft
could be constructed or repaired. And from this stage, not content
with the provision made for them by nature, those in control of the
aerodromes began to dig up trees, fill in ditches and hollows, and
smooth away rough contours of the land, so as to obtain a huge, smooth
expanse on which aircraft might alight and manoeuvre without accident.
And after this came the building up of fences and entrance gates, the
erection of executive offices and restaurants, the provision of
