Flying Aces didn’t always have a story behind their covers in the early years. Only one of the three Blakeslee covers had a bit of a write-up on it—the August issue—which he have previously posted here. It’s just great to see all three covers together!

June 1930

July 1930

August 1930

Unseen Guns!

THE breaks of war! One minute you were a hero and the next going down in a burning crate. It happened on both sides of the line. In the picture on the cover this month we see the pilot and observer of an early German Taube monoplane which has just brought down a French single-seater. As the scout falls and bursts into flame, the Germans make the mistake of relaxing their vigil to share glances of congratulation. Then from their blind side comes an unexpected burst of fire from another scout.

It came quick and fast in the Air Service. One minute you were the victor and the next some one was battering the dials out of your instrument board. And there were two ways of being mentioned in dispatches!

“Unseen Guns!”
Sky Birds, November 1931 by Colcord Heurlin

The Giant Killer

IT IS interesting to note that comparatively few Zeppelin raids were made on Paris during the war. Early in the big conflict the French brought down a big gas-bag, and the Germans decided to devote their raiding to night Gotha patrols or hurling giant shells from the security of the wood that hid Big Bertha. The main air defense of Paris in the early days was carried out by the old Maurice and Henry Farman ships. These rare old pushers, weird as they might seem today, were too much for the Zeps. Our cover this month shows a gunner in a Henry Farman “shorthorn” putting the fatal burst into a big raider on its way to bomb Paris. The airmen are wearing the famous old crash helmets that all wise flyers donned before taking the air, prior to 1915 or 16.

“The Giant Killer”
Sky Birds, October 1931 by Colcord Heurlin

The Fighting Spotters

PROBABLY no group of fighters in the World War did as much and got so little credit as the artillery spotters pictured on this month’s cover. These men sat over the German lines and provided “eyes” for the big* guns that pounded the enemy dumps, transport, front-line redoubts and artillery bases.

The heroes of the air today are those pilots who fought in sleek, high-speed scouts, but the artillery-spotting airmen had to do their important work in slow, unwieldy, low-powered ships, and had to rely on what little protection they might expect from the high-flying scouts and fighters above.

Hundreds of budding airmen who trained and prepared themselves for action against the German circuses found themselves unceremoniously dumped into the cockpits of R.E.8s and told to go off and control a “shoot.” This meant that a pilot and observer would leave their airdrome, fly out over the battery they were to control, lower their wireless aerial and pick up the battery control dugout.

Once in contact they would fly out over the target and call for the first shot. This would be observed and the corrections made, by wireless. Shot after shot would be pounded out and corrected until the target was “hit.” All this would be carried out while the ship was flying in a broad figure-8 track. One half of the figure-8 would be over the German lines and the other over Allied territory.

Needless to state, these “shoots” were not always staged under tea-party conditions. Often the spotting ship would be attacked while completing the correcting process as in our cover, but in all cases, the spotters stuck it out until they had registered a “hit” and had sent out their command for “salvo.” Grimly they hung on, the observer handling his Lewis gun and telegraph key, fighting and dying amid a wild fanfare of machine-gun bullets and the screaming wail of the shells that were being vomited out from steel muzzles at the request of the fighting observer, who in all probability was taking a torrent of enemy fire as his fingers tapped out the all-important corrections for the gunners many miles behind the lines.

Little honor, little glory and often the gibes of fellow flyers who were lucky enough to be flying faster and more up-to-date ships was their lot, but they accepted their Jobs and did them well. They lived and died, true examples of the old creed of the flying men: “We Are the Eyes of the Army.”

“The Fighting Spotters”
Sky Birds, September 1931 by Paul J. Bissell

Rear Gun Action

TWO-SEATER pilots were not always confined to “action front.” There were times when they had to be able to use the rear Lewis—many times, in fact. This month’s cover shows a pilot whose observer had been killed during a dogfight, and as most of the opposition was coming from the rear, and he had little or no chance to out-maneuver the Jerry ships, the pilot was forced to lean back in his cockpit and take over the observer’s gun.

As long as there were cartridges in the drum, the pilot could put up some sort of a defense, but once the drum was expended he was forced to go back to his attempts to get away by means of the joystick and throttle.

Artillery-spotting ships, that were often suddenly attacked by the enemy scouts, ran into situations of this kind many times. And on the other hand, the observer was often called upon to take over and attempt to fly the ship back when the pilot was killed. Neither situation was any too pleasant.

“Rear Gun Action”
Sky Birds, August 1931 by Paul J. Bissell

The Back Seat Hero

THE two-seater observer—the man who did more and got less credit than any rating in the air services. He fought and died with the best of them. If his pilot was killed, he stood a good chance of going west without being able to do much about it. In the rear seat he took the bulk of the enemy hatred. He was responsible for protecting his own tail and garnering Important observations at the same time. He took the pictures, dropped the bombs and directed the attack. While it Is not generally known, the observer, no matter what his rank as compared to the pilot, was the actual commander of the ship. And yet he never got any credit. He had to light and fly under the worst conditions, and if the truth were known, observers probably got more enemy planes than did the pilots. He fought in a billowing cockpit with a gun that rattled and strained against the slipstream; and when It was all over, he seldom got credit for the ships he destroyed, and usually had to bask in the reflected glory of the man who wore the double wings.

The Back Seat Hero
Flying Aces, January 1931 by Arnold Lorne Hicks

Quentin Roosevelt’s Last Flight

THE death of Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt on July 14th, 1918, while serving with the 95th Aero Squadron, First Pursuit Group, probably brought the war-in-the-air home to more Americans than any single instance.

The youngest son of former President Theodore Roosevelt, Quentin joined the Air Service a few days after America entered the Great War in 1917. He was commissioned and trained for his pilot’s wings at Mineola, and in July sailed for England. Later on ho went to Paris, where he was given a post at the Aviation Headquarters until October.

Quentin was not satisfied with an S.O.S. job and finally prevailed upon the Staff to let him get in more flying. He went to Issoudun and completed his course and later was put in charge of one of the training fields there. Still dissatisfied with his lot, he managed to get transferred to Orly, where he did considerable testing of planes. An order sending him to the Front came in June, 1918, and he joined the 95th Squadron.

On July 14th, less than a month after joining his squadron, Roosevelt went on patrol with his flight. Seven Nieuports were in the formation. They reached the line with considerable difficulty, due to the grouping of much cumulus cloud. They patrolled their area for nearly half an hour before any real action occurred. Then out of nowhere came an equal number of Fokker D-7s.

A dogfight followed at once. Nieuports and Fokkers milled in and out of a fantastic design of tracer. The battle lasted several minutes before visibility conditions compelled both sides to withdraw.

Eye-witnesses of the fight declared that two Fokkers went down, apparently out of action, but whether they crashed could not be told, because a layer of thin vapor cut off most of the view of the ground.

The Nieuports, having been shot about badly, decided to head off home. It was not until the ships were about to land that their pilots realized one of their machines was missing. Then as they landed, the terrible realization came that Quentin Roosevelt, the most beloved of the famous White House Gang, was missing.

For hours they made frantic inquiries—with no trace of young Roosevelt. Then two days later, a German two-seater came over and dropped a wreath. Along with it was an envelope containing a message that stated that Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt had been shot down in flames and buried with the highest military honors where he had fallen. The grave had been photographed and a print of the picture was enclosed. The letter also explained that the grave might be found at Chamery.

Immediately the word was cabled back to America. It was a distinct shock to everyone in the United States. Quentin Roosevelt’s death was followed by a wild surge of intense patriotism. Thousands of young men flocked to the recruiting offices demanding their acceptance in the Air Corps.

After the Armistice there was some talk of bringing his body back to this country, but the Roosevelt family decided against this, saying that it was better that his remains should lie in the soil of the country for which he had made the Great Sacrifice. Today his body lies with hundreds of other Americans in one of the great war cemeteries that are cared for by America.

Quentin Roosevelt’s Last Flight
Flying Aces, October 1931 by Paul J. Bissell

Sky Mirage

BELIEVE it or not, but many an airman on the Western Front got the fright of his young life by the mid-summer mirages that appeared every so often in the cloud-banked skies during the World War.

This month, our artist has depicted the phenomenon vividly on the front cover. The pilot, flying alongside of a bank of clouds with the sun off to his left, has suddenly turned to find another machine, of the same type, flying alongside him.

Many a pilot has been fooled by this mirage, and has waved in recognition, believing the ship to be another of his own squadron. Naturally, the other pilot has waved back. This sort of thing goes on sometimes until the pilot finally notices the aura of the rainbow colors circling the other ship. Then, and then only, does he realize that the other ship is nothing but a mirage—or a reflection of his own plane.

A pilot on the Western Front, in an effort to elude a flock of Fokkers, attempted to fly into a cloud bank, under the mirage conditions. He almost fell out of his cockpit attempting to get out of the way of another ship that appeared to be flying directly at him. He ducked to one side, and saw the other ship do the same. For a few minutes, he flew alongside this strange ship, and wondered why the other pilot acted so strangely. Again he tried to turn in, and the other ship heeled over toward him and apparently tried to ram him.

The poor mystified pilot swore and raged. The Fokkers were coming down on him like spitting vultures. There was nothing to do but take a chance and go it cold. Into the cloud he turned again, and decided to make the other ship pull out. Imagine his amazement when the other ship disappeared completely!

For several minutes he wondered what had happened, or whether he was seeing things, and then he suddenly remembered the story of sky mirages that other pilots of his squadron had talked about, back in the mess. But by that time, he was a pretty scared peelot. When he got back to his airdrome, he lost no time in telling the boys of his experience.

“Whenever you get into a mess like that,” advised the major, “look for the colored aura that always encircles the other plane. It is the same rainbow effect that you see in spray from a fountain or waterfall, when the sun strikes it at a certain angle to your vision. The reason it disappeared was because you had flown in so close to the cloud that you no longer were in the angle of vision to see it.”

Talk about your phantom planes! There were plenty of them out there when the sun shone right.

Sky Mirage
Flying Aces, December 1930 by Arnold Lorne Hicks

The New Zeppelin Heads for America!

OF COURSE we’re aware of the fact that when we discuss lighter-than-air craft we are touching on a subject that has unpleasant memories for most Americans. The Shenandoah, Akron, and Macon disasters have left in their wake a subconscious dread of Zeppelins. But perhaps we are unduly biased in our opinion as to the merits of the cigar shaped balloons that go scuttling across the sky in such a graceful manner.

But let us forget, for a moment, our own misfortunes. Across the blue Atlantic there is a nation of people who know how to build Zeppelins as they should be built. Germany has been building them for years with great success. Indeed, a German—Count Zeppelin—gave the world these giant ships.

During the War, the Zeppelin came into prominence as a military weapon (see article on the raiding Zeppelins in your April FLYING ACES). True, these Wartime gas bags were tricky and on several occasions became veritable death traps, but in spite of these misfortunes they continued in popularity until finally they were out of the experimental stage.

Then the British and Americans recognized their value. But, like us, the British also had their difficulties and crash followed crash until finally, with the destruction of the giant R-101 and its huge death toll, the English washed their hands of the business altogether.

With our several disasters, we Americans seem to be in the same boat as the British, although not officially. And so dubious glances are cast across the Big Pond as America awaits the take-off of the new Von Hindenburg (LZ-129) for Lakehurst.

According to present schedules, the new queen of the skies is to make its initial voyage to the United States early in May. The route to be followed is the northern, or Great Circle, route and the western terminus, as just noted, will be the United States Naval air station at Lakehurst, New Jersey. The hangars at Lakehurst are the only ones on the Eastern seaboard large enough to accommodate the new giant. They have been leased by the German operating company.

Of course the Germans, with their enthusiasm for lighter-than-air craft, are looking forward to a warm reception for the Von Hindenburg. They hope to establish a permanent North Atlantic passenger and mail air service, and they point out the obvious when they say it shouldn’t be done with a single ship.

Their idea is for the Americans to become convinced of the advisability of employing several Zeppelins for over water transportation and so join hands with them in completing establishment of the route. If America shows any signs of a willingness to cooperate and builds another ship, Germany plans to continue the service that is to be inaugurated this summer. If not, the new Von Hindenburg may join her sister, the Graf Zeppelin, on the South Atlantic run.

The great success that has attended the many flights of the famous Graf leads us to believe that the Zeppelin may be coming into its own. There is no reason in the world why the Von Hindenburg should not have the same success. What faults the Graf has have been eliminated’ in the new ship, and more modern construction has also been incorporated. Besides their ability to build these monsters, the Germans have an uncanny faculty for flying the cigar-shaped craft. Their inherent love for thoroughness is well applied in this respect.

One question that naturally arises in conjunction with a passenger and mail Zeppelin air service is: Does it pay? Our immediate answer is that it doesn’t. Obviously, a government subsidy is necessary. However, there is an intangible something derived that cannot be measured in dollars and cents. The good will and friendly relations which the Graf has produced in the South American countries for Germany has many times made up for the subsidy the German government has placed upon the company operating the veteran Zep.

The new markets that Germany has found and the subsequent increased trade have combined to make the idea of travel by Zeppelin a sort of national institution in Germany, and rightfully so.

The airship has often been criticized for its slow speed in comparison with heavier-than-air craft, as well as for its high cost, both initial and operating. But most of the hollering has come from the direction of the airplane groups which refuse to recognize the obvious great value which is possessed by the Graf.

THE passenger facilities and fittings for the Von Hindenburg are ultra modern. The passengers are accommodated in the hull itself. In this way, roominess is assured. There are two passenger .decks, “A” and “B.” “A” deck contains twenty-five staterooms each with two berths. Also on “A” deck are the dining saloon and reading and writing rooms. On “B” deck below are the shower baths, smoking room, and bar. The two decks, of course, have access to each other and provide a walk two hundred feet in length.

The Von Hindenburg has a cruising speed of eighty miles per hour. Her range is nearly nine thousand miles. It is expected that the Atlantic crossings will be made in sixty-five hours or less.

The new ship boasts almost twice the gas capacity of the Graf, but still it’s only forty feet longer. Against the Graf’s 3,700,000 cubic feet of lift gas space, the Von Hindenburg has a capacity for 7,000,000 cubic feet. An idea of the new craft’s greater bulk can be obtained from these figures.

Four Mercedes-Benz Diesel engines, each developing 1,200 h.p., drive this latest Zeppelin. Greater safety is derived from the employment of Diesel, instead of gasoline, engines, since the absence of gasoline and electric spark combustion reduces the fire hazard. Because of this absence of gasoline, passengers will be allowed the privilege of a smoking room.

And so we await the arrival of the great Von Hindenburg. In the meantime, anti-airship criticism should be taken with a grain of salt, for we know that this ship was built by people who know their business from the ground up and who have in the past demonstrated their natural facility for Zeppelin construction. We of FLYING ACES take this opportunity to wish the Von Hindenburg a long and successful life.

The New Zeppelin Heads for America!: Thrilling Story Behind This Month’s Cover
Flying Aces, June 1936 by C.B. Mayshark

Action Test of the Mighty Douglas

OUT of a brilliant blue haze, several streaking shapes suddenly appear. They are mid-winged, twin-motored, super-streamlined bombers. And as they come screaming down the airways, they give one an impression of darting, kill-mad hawks. Their objective is an important army field in the distance. At the critical moment, these bombers will release explosives—tons of explosives—and the field and everything on it will be blown to smitherines.

The bombing of the field is an order to be carried out—a purpose to be accomplished. The crews within the hurtling bombers close their eyes to slits, set their mouths in a firm line indicating grim determination. That field will be blown up! It must be destroyed!

But the field ahead of the stalking bombers has now come to life. In the radio room, an operator is rapidly typing a warning message which is coming in over the air. An orderly scuttles back and forth between the radio room and the C.O.’s office. Terse commands are barked out. Pilots slap on their helmets, don chutes. On their way to the hangars, they are joined by tense-looking gunners.

The greaseballs have already begun to trundle out sleek, vicious-looking Northrop fighters, and in a moment, after the pilots have clambered into their cockpits, inertia starters are gunned. A series of choking coughs ensue as the sliding pistons force out dead gas. Suddenly there is a drawn-out sputter—then, contact!

The throbbing motors are jazzed for a moment or two, then the brakes are released. Like snarling panthers, the Northrops dart forward. In a twinkling they are off the ground. They bank around tightly even before they reach the required five hundred feet. Up . . . up . . . they spiral. Then, as they reach a thousand, the pilot of the number one ship “spots” the Douglas Bombers sizzling toward the field.

The Douglases are near three thousand, but they are slithering down on a steep angle. After a moment, their speed becomes tremendous. The double-banked radials screech wildly, and the slipstream spangs out far behind the arc-ed surfaces of the glistening cantilever wings.

The Northrops scatter. They have received their combat signals via radio. Now they spread out fan-wise, still roaring away from the space over their field. But as the first of the bombers approaches, the Northrops quickly bank in from each side, knife-like, obstructing the way to the field. As they close upon the Douglas ships, they begin to spew tracer. The forward guns of each attack plane bellow grimly. The Northrops have now flashed up and over the bombers.

Suddenly the Northrop gunners swing their black-muzzled rear guns into action. A criss-cross fire from all the Northrops results. Lead flies, metal zings. The chattering is the voice of Death.

The terrific barrage makes the Douglas crews apprehensive as to their success. But they retaliate with fierce abandon. Rear gun turrets pop up, and the bird cage gunners in the bows hurl lead upon their attackers.

Abruptly, the pilot of the first Northrop slumps in his cockpit as slugs from the nearest bomber puncture his body. His ship falls off, plunges out of control to destruction below.

But the remaining Northrops knife in again upon their adversaries. One of them hurtles down the sky, flutters up under the belly of one of the enemy to strike at its vitals. Bullets pencil up at the great bomber. Suddenly, the Douglas staggers, then seems to stop altogether. It teeters drunkenly, then flames belch out and it plummets toward the earth, the whistling slipstream fanning the fires. The men within are helpless. Their ship is now their coffin.

WHAT would be the ultimate result of such an encounter between these latest Douglas Bombers and the new speedy Northrop Fighters? Will the other bombers reach and blow up their objective, or will the fighters be successful in holding them back?

We can’t say. Of course, attempts have been made to find a theoretical answer to such questions by staging sham air raids. Judges preside, and at the conclusion of the battle, a decision is rendered. But can we really tell until such an air skirmish actually happens?

FLYING ACES describes this Actionized sham battle and pictures the encounter on its cover simply to give you some idea of what it might be like. In the painting, firing is depicted and a ship is shown falling in order to make this test of the Douglas and Northrops appear more realistic.

Performance figures on these two new ships have not been released. However, we are able to tell you that 90 of these new Douglas DB-1 bombers have been ordered by the Army on a $6,498,000 contract. The experimental ship was tried with both the Pratt & Whitney “Hornet” engines and with the Wright “Cyclones.” A crew of five is carried, and in addition to bombing facilities, machine guns are fitted at strategic points offering arcs of fire covering every approach. The top speed of the Douglas approaches 250 m.p.h. (Also see description of the ship in Modern Planes Album, this issue(below)).

The Northrop Corporation (a subsidiary of Douglas) has recently been awarded orders for some 115 of the attack planes pictured on our cover at a total cost of $2,560,074. This fast ship is reputed to have a high speed of 250 m.p.h. when powered with the 750 h.p. double-banked Pratt & Whitney radial engine. The plane carries four 30 cal. fixed machine guns and one 30 cal, flexible machine gun mounted in the rear cockpit.

With the production of these two ships, a big step forward has been achieved in the field of American military aviation.

Action Test of the Mighty Douglas: Thrilling Story Behind This Month’s Cover
Flying Aces, May 1936 by C.B. Mayshark

Here is the description of the new Douglas DB-1 bomber from the Modern Planes Album section of the May 1936 Flying Aces:

The Douglas DB-1 Bomber

THE new Douglas bomber which competed against the Boeing 299 and the Martin for Army Air Service favor, has several of the characteristics of the Douglas D.C.2 commercial job. It is a mid-wing monoplane with a deep body, swept-back wings, and retractable landing gear. What made the DB-1 a mid-wing was the unusual depth of the ship’s belly. In this it is much like the Martin.

So far both Wright and Pratt and Whitney radial motors have been used in the experimental job and its best top speed is said to be 250 m.p.h.

Very little is known of the machine outside of official circles. It is an all-metal job, of course, carrying two pilots—one acting as navigator and co-pilot. A gunner is mounted in the nose in a well-protected turret and it is presumed that he will be equipped with two high-speed Browning guns. A rear gunner has a turret set well down the fuselage near the fin. This turret is completely covered during ordinary flight. It also has a tunnel outlet directed under the tail to ward off attack from below.

The DB-1 carries considerable military equipment, including two-way radio, camera mountings, and the like. The bombs are carried in racks fitted in the deep body. Several types of projectiles may be carried. The wheels fold away into the deep roots of the wings.

We learn from one source that a number of these ships have been purchased for new equipment in service squadrons. The real details on the actual speed and general specifications will probably not be officially released for many months. (The Douglas DB-1 is also pictured this month on our cover (above))

An interesting comparison in the general design of this machine and the Italian Piaggio P.16 may be made if one overlooks the fact that the Italian ship has three engines whereas the Douglas is powered with two.