THIS May we are once again celebrating the genius that is C.B. Mayshark! Mayshark took over the covers duties on Flying Aces from Paul Bissell with the December 1934 issue and would continue to provide covers for the next year and a half until the June 1936 issue. While Bissell’s covers were frequently depictions of great moments in combat aviation from the Great War, Mayshark’s covers were often depictions of future aviation battles and planes, or sometimes even Zeppelins like the June 1936’s cover which imagines what the new Zeppelin heading to America might look like!

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

THIS week we have a story by Orlando Rigoni. Rigoni was a very prolific author of western and flying stories appearing in such magazines as Battle Birds, Dare-Devil Aces, Sky Birds, War Birds, Fighting Aces, Sky Fighters, Western Aces, Real Western Round-Up, Thrilling Sports, Air Trails, Western Romances, The Lone Eagle and Flying Acesamong others from roughly 1934 to 1948. He went on to have his stories appear in the slicks; wrote radio and movie scripts; write numerous western novels; and gothic romance novels using the pseudonym “Leslie Aimes.”

Rigoni was also a carpenter all his adult life and helped build Boulder Dam, the Alcan Highway, the Pacific Gas and Electric Plant in Morro Bay and Cal Poly. He was also a developer and built homes throughout the state.

It takes lead to guard gold. That’s why Tom Liston, pilot for the Roaring Buck, needed a sky-chaperon for that heavy pay dirt. He got one—Gunner Sloane, an hombre who could draw and shoot faster than a fuse can spit. But there was a debt on the books against Gunner Sloane—and when the lead began to fly, all the gold in the West wouldn’t pay it.

• Download “Gold Flies the Gauntlet” (February 1937, Flying Aces)

As a bonus, here’s a brief biography and picture of Orlando Rigoni that ran in the 4 June 1943 The Family Circle Magazine along with his story of railroading “I Want to Know Why”:

ORLANDO RIGONI, author of “I Want to Know Why” in this issue, appears at the left in a photograph taken in the Yukon last winter while he was working on the Alcan Highway, which, as you doubtless know, is the new road through Canada connecting the United States and Alaska. He is a writer by trade and was working on the road to get material for a novel for young people.

Mr. Rigoni is married, is a parent, and lives in Woodland Hills, California. His fiction has appeared largely in magazines publishing Western and flying stories. He often draws for his background on jobs he has held. He was once secretary to the traffic manager of an airline, and he has worked at railroading. Which you will readily believe if you read his story for us.

THIS May we are once again celebrating the genius that is C.B. Mayshark! Mayshark took over the covers duties on Flying Aces from Paul Bissell with the December 1934 issue and would continue to provide covers for the next year and a half until the June 1936 issue. While Bissell’s covers were frequently depictions of great moments in combat aviation from the Great War, Mayshark’s covers were often depictions of future aviation battles and planes, like May 1936’s thrilling story behind its cover which imagines what an action test of the mighty Douglas bombers vs the new Northrop Fighters might look like!

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.

THIS week we have a story from the pen of British Ace, Captain John E. Doyle, D.F.C. Born in 1893, Captain Doyle was a successful fighter pilot in WWI with 9 confirmed victories with 56 & 60 Squadrons. Near the end of the war, he was shot down and taken prisoner where they amputated his leg. After the war, he wrote three books, one of which was an autobiography, and 31 short stories for magazines like War Stories, The Scout, Popular Flying, The Aeroplane, Flying, Boys’ Ace Library, Mine, Modern Wonder and Air Stories.

Doyle wrote a half dozen stories for the British version of Air Stories featuring one Montgomery de Courcy Montmorency Hardcastle, M.C. In Scotland he was usually referred to as “His Lordship,” for he was the fourteenth Viscount Arbroath as well as the sixth Baron Cupar. Out in France he was just “Monty” behind his back, or “The Major,” or “Sir” to his face. Unfortunately, the powers that were did not approve of squadron commanders crossing the lines without their express permission. A major’s job should keep him on the ground, they ruled, looking after his unit. So Monty would have to come up with excuses to leave the base to take care of the Huns and relieve the boredom of command.

Our Monocled Major follows his own squadron’s flight as a straggler when they take on Von Vorbei and his Circus in “Stragglers Beware!” from the February 1936 issue.

The Commander of Jagdstaffel “43” had Evolved a Safe and Simple Method of Eliminating the R.F.C. in General and the Squadron of Major Montgomery Montmorency Hardcastle in Particular. But “Monty” was also a Man of Ideas and the Succulent Bait in his Trap for Fokkers was not Exactly what it Seemed!

• Download “Stragglers Beware!” February 1936, Air Stories UK)

THIS May we are once again celebrating the genius that is C.B. Mayshark! Mayshark took over the covers duties on Flying Aces from Paul Bissell with the December 1934 issue and would continue to provide covers for the next year and a half until the June 1936 issue. While Bissell’s covers were frequently depictions of great moments in combat aviation from the Great War, Mayshark’s covers were often depictions of future aviation battles and planes, but April 1936’s thrilling cover was a bit different, featuring the Trans-Atlantic Shuttle heading off over land towards the sea!

Flying the Trans-Atlantic Shuttle

ALTHOUGH the art of aviation is today making great strides forward, flying, like air conditioning and television, will not enjoy its real “arrival” until tomorrow. True, the present generation is placing more and more emphasis on aeronautic progress, but the man in the street is still somewhat hampered by a kind of Nineteenth Century transportation hangover. His traditions tend to make him feel a lot happier on the ground. But even so, the speed of aero development is phenomenal.

It is only a few short years since Lindbergh made his immortal flight across the grey wastes of the Atlantic. For completing that initial scheduled air trip to Europe—we say “scheduled” because he arrived non-stop at his chosen destination—he was hailed as a Twentieth Century Christopher Columbus. He was lauded as being years ahead of the rest of us.

But now we suddenly find that he was not so many years ahead—only about ten, it now appears. For already plans are being laid for regular passenger and mail service between North America and Europe via the air lanes. The launching of this service will constitute the dawn of that tomorrow we spoke of above.

Giant flying boats will soon ply East and West, transporting passengers over three thousand miles of water at speeds undreamed of thirty-five years ago. Steamers on the water below will look as if they are going backwards. Those who make the trip will have just about enough time to enjoy a detective novel and indulge in a rubber or so of bridge before they disembark at their destination, whether it be New York, London, or Paris. Businessmen will save valuable hours—indeed, valuable days. Much money will be saved by the commercial world. Best of all, a more neighborly spirit will come to exist between the two continents.

And so it can be seen that in spite of that oft-repeated warning that “speed will kill us all,” we are going ahead. Many of the old stick-in-the-muds, in fact, are now coming over to our side; but still others will not give way. “You’re fools,” they tell us, pointing a trembling finger in our direction. “God gave us feet as a means of locomotion,” they say, “and He gave us good, solid brown earth on which to walk—so why in the name of all that’s sensible don’t we use them and stop all this monkey business of tearing around the heavens in fearful flying machines?”

But the individuals with such beliefs will soon pass on, taking all their mediaeval hoopla with them into the “good, solid brown earth” of which they have so much to say.

You who read these words won’t have quite so much trouble in carrying out your ideas when you get the reins. And then, ludicrously enough, another generation will spring up after you which will think your ideas are old fashioned.

BE THAT as it may, trans-Atlantic travel by air is soon to be a reality. FLYING ACES, to be sure, cannot at this early date predict the precise means by which this route will be established. But the newspapers these days are telling us that the foundation stones are already being laid for the U.S.-to-Europe airline.

The names of Pan-American and Sikorsky have figured prominently in the plans, but these companies will probably not have the corner on the lucrative business which will ensue from this enterprise. There are several European organizations, notably Imperial Airways and Air France, which undoubtedly intend to share in the project.

Presumably, by the time the line is ready to carry passengers, a ship suitable for the route will have been developed. In light of experiments to date, it would seem that a flying boat capable of high speeds at great altitudes would be the most logical solution to the problem. Such a plane would carry from forty to fifty passengers and travel at 250-300 m.p.h. at about 35,000 feet. The planes would fly from Northern Europe to Newfoundland, Bermuda, or both.

Bringing such a big ship into the busy and often fogbound harbors of Eastern North America might be a risky and hazardous undertaking for a large flying boat. Not that it couldn’t be accomplished. It could. But a more feasible and reasonable method has come to our minds—the use of shuttle service amphibians which could land on our larger Eastern airports as well as on the sea.

The idea of a shuttle service for air travel is not new. As a matter of fact, the Department of Commerce now has before it specifications for three ships, one of which will be built in quantity to supplement the long distance runs of the new high-altitude airliners which will replace the transports now being used on the transcontinental routes. Before long the word “shuttle” may be just as common to air travel as it is at the present time to our New York subway transportation.

The Sikorsky Manufacturing Company is building nine of the recently developed S-43’s for Pan-American Airways. The ship is brand new, and it incorporates all the latest aids to aerial navigation. It is of the amphibian type and is powered with two radial engines. Its seating capacity is for less than twenty passengers. Such a ship would be ideal for a shuttle service between New York and the two terminals of the big ocean-going transports at Newfoundland and Bermuda. Passengers could embark at Floyd Bennett Field or Newark and be whisked in a few hours to either of the two bases. They would there make connections with a trans-Atlantic airliner for European ports.

ON OUR cover this month we show a Sikorsky S-43 flying out over New York at night bound for Bermuda or Newfoundland. The passengers aboard are confident, and they know that in an amazingly short period of time they will be in Europe—three thousand miles from New York.

Of course, it is impossible for us to say definitely that the trans-Atlantic route will be carried on exactly as we have pictured it. The whole thing is a matter of conjecture at the present time. But it will be well if we prepare ourselves mentally for what is bound to come. Within the next two or three years, trans-Atlantic air travel will be a reality.

Flying the Trans-Atlantic Shuttle: Thrilling Story Behind This Month’s Cover
Flying Aces, April 1936 by C.B. Mayshark

THIS week we have another exciting air adventure with Rusty Wade from the pen of Frank Richardson Pierce. Pierce is probably best remembered for his prolific career in the Western Pulps. Writing under his own name as well as two pen names—Erle Stanly Pierce and Seth Ranger. Pierce’s career spanned fifty years and produced over 1,500 short stories, with over a thousand of these appearing in the pages of Argosy and the Saturday Evening Post.

Rusty’s passenger was an Alaskan, but curiously enough the old sour dough was headed for a middle-west city instead of the North. The man had offered him a thousand dollars to land him in time for a ten o’clock stockholders’ meeting and Rusty seemed in a fair way to claim the money. It was purely a sporting proposition with him. If he failed he would not get a cent.

From the pages of the September 1929 Air Trails, it’s our old pal Rusty Wade in Frank Richardson Pierce’s “Winged Conspiracy!”

Rusty Wade lands in the middle of white water and a snarling hail of bullets!

• Download “Winged Conspiracy” (September 1929, Air Trails)

THIS May we are once again celebrating the genius that is C.B. Mayshark! Mayshark took over the covers duties on Flying Aces from Paul Bissell with the December 1934 issue and would continue to provide covers for the next year and a half until the June 1936 issue. While Bissell’s covers were frequently depictions of great moments in combat aviation from the Great War, Mayshark’s covers were often depictions of future aviation battles and planes, like March 1936’s thrilling story behind its cover which imagines what a clash between Russia and Japan might look like!

Russia Clashes with Japan

A NEWLY-ESTABLISHED Japanese air base in the Nippon-controlled area of Manchuria is suddenly startled into great activity. A distant purr of motors has been heard, and in a moment the purr becomes a roar—not the staccato roar of a single, hurtling ship, but the slurred thundering of a dozen or more. The unscheduled racket means but one thing: Attack from the air!

In a moment the foremost ship of the raiding flight plunges into view. A Japanese observer on a tower excitedly jots some characters and figures on a slip of paper. Then he grabs his phone.

“Commanding officer? Tower observer speaking. Russian reconnaissance planes leading bombing attack. Objective—either flying field or naval vessels in outer harbor. Planes at about four thousand feet. That’s all, sir.”

Suddenly the telegraph instruments in the communications room crackle to life, while three or four radio operators get busy at the dials. In two or three minutes every Japanese commanding officer in the area is advised of the Russian air offensive.

IN JUST such a manner as we have portrayed above, the Far East may at any time be plunged into war. But we hasten to say that our imaginative clash is the second act and not the first act of the drama. Initially, there would probably be some detonating altercation at the border in which each party would be as much to blame as the other. Diplomatic relations between Japan and Russia has, in recent months, been considerably strained. With these two powers rubbing each other the wrong way, some slight misunderstanding at the frontier might set off the powder keg. The territorial controversy is so entangled that either might be the aggressor. In short, our scene above might just as likely find Japanese planes raiding a Russian base as vice versa; for by that time, the trouble will have already begun.

In the meantime, we can only hope that relations between the two countries may improve to a point where such a war may be sidestepped.

The last “official disagreement” between Japan and Russia occurred in 1904-05. Before the entanglement, numerous diplomatic conversations took place, the main discussion revolving about the vast stretches of land to the North of China. Eventually, however, relations were severed and war declared.

And now history may repeat itself. Whereas there has as yet been no severance of relations, it is the belief in many quarters that the patience of officials of both governments has already been taxed to the breaking point.

But a new Russo-Japanese war would be different from the last one. With the turn of the century, mechanized warfare had just come into its own and the 1904-05 Far Eastern conflict was a prime example of the new mode. But that war will seem like a practice maneuver alongside of a Far East war 1936 style. To be sure, there were several large scale battles in the last entanglement and many thousands of lives were lost. But what is the annihilation of a body of troops trained in the business of war against the possible butchering of a huge civil population?

The 1904-1905 war was, in the main, a series of naval engagements. Actually, the decisive battles took place on land; but it was the Japanese navy, adroitly handled, which assured success for the Land of the Rising Sun. Russia, too, had plenty of strength on the sea, but she couldn’t cope with the masterful tactics of the Japanese commanders who were navigating in waters close to home. The Russian fleet as well as her troops were too far away from Moscow to move intelligently and cooperatively. And so Japan won the war.

Peace ensued for a number of years, but now once more the old story springs into the headlines. Japan needs to expand. And she may encroach upon Russian sovereignty in doing it. And Russia, quite naturally, balks. What will be the outcome? Will there be war? Very likely Japan has become nervous over the manner in which the League of Nations has launched sanctions upon Italy. Maybe both she and Russia will think twice before going to war in earnest. Effective sanctions would certainly cripple Japan in short order. True, Japan is no longer a member of the League, but sanctions could still be imposed.

Now let us consider such a 1936 Far East conflict. Russia is not so far away as she was in 1904. The mileage is the same, of course, but the transportation time is vastly less. Russia’s main difficulty in 1904 was in transporting troops and material with only one railroad line. Today facilities are better, but that is only part of the story. The air aspect will be the most important feature in a new war.

With the fast, mammoth ships of the air recently built by Russia, men and materials could be transported across the wastes of Siberia with a speed that would make the rail trip of 1904 look silly. But the transportation problem is only one angle which would be solved by airplanes. The important offensive and defensive gestures would be carried out by means of aircraft—not only on the part of Russia, but Japan, as well.

AND now let us return to our raid. As the Russians attack, a flight of seaplanes quickly takes off from a nearby base and rushes into the fray. On our cover, we show one of these craft intercepting a Russian plane. What will be the outcome? We can’t tell. It is hard to say which of two military planes will be victorious in an air battle which has never been fought and which may never come to pass.

But this much we do know: A new war in the Far East will be a veritable hell on earth. And that hell, ironically enough, will come from the direction of heaven—via the air lanes.

The Russian plane is an R-5 biplane powered with a 650 h.p. M-17 (Russian built B.M.W.) motor. The ship is equipped with two Lewis and two Vickers guns. The Japanese ship is a Kawanishi 90 reconnaissance seaplane powered with a 450 h.p. Japanese-made “Jupiter.”

Russia Clashes with Japan: Thrilling Story Behind This Month’s Cover
Flying Aces, March 1936 by C.B. Mayshark

THIS week we have another story by Franklin M. Ritchie. Ritchie only wrote aviation yarns and his entire output—roughly three dozen stories—was between 1927 and 1930. Today we have another one from the lawyer who wrote pulp stories on the side to satisfy his yen for flying. From an early issue of Flying Aces, Ritchie gives us a tale of bomber Jim Barker who longed to show everyone that even a bombing pilot can get Germany’s most ruthless Ace, by any means necessary! From the February 1929 issue of Flying Aces, it’s Franklin M. Ritchie’s “Say It With Bombs!”

When the swarm of German Fokkers swept out of the clouds and met an American bombing party they struck a lot of red-hot action they hadn’t counted on. Jim Barker believed in using whatever tools are at hand—and, “They Learned about bombs from him.”

• Download “Flaming Bullets” (February 1929, Flying Aces)

“HAW-W-W-W-W!” That sound can only mean one thing—that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors is back to vex not only the Germans, but the Americans—the Ninth Pursuit Squadron in particular—as well. Yes it’s the marvel from Boonetown, Iowa himself—Lieutenant Phineas Pinkham!

Even though Phineas Pinkham’s been grounded and confined to the base, it goes without saying that he is the only witness that can exonerate the Old Man in a Court-Martial that stems from an altercation with Brigadier-General Wolfe at the Cafe of the Red Cow in Bar-le-Duc.

There was something pretty harsh in the U.S. Army regulations about a private impersonating an officer. But even Phineas “Carbuncle” Pinkham was bright enough to know that an officer couldn’t get busted for impersonating a private!

• Download “Half-Shot at Chaumont” Gang” (January 1932, Flying Aces)

THIS week we present another cover by Arnold Lorne Hicks! Hicks worked in the pulps primarily from the late ’20’s to the mid 30’s, producing covers for such magazines as North-West Stories, Navy Stories, Police Stories, Detective Dragnet, Sky Birds, Golden West, Western Trails, Love Adventures, and a couple covers for Flying Aces!

“Lifeline!”

THIS month’s cover shows a daring rescue of a Yank airman by a fellow flyer. Seeing his buddy going down in a flaming plane, the flyer swoops down and throws a knotted rope to the Yank. He grabs it, and is shown in the act of pulling himself up from his blazing crate toward the rescuing plane.

“Lifeline!”
Flying Aces, November 1930 by Arnold Lorne Hicks

THIS week we have another story from one of the new flight of authors on the site this year—Andrew A. Caffrey. Caffrey, who was in the American Air Service in France during The Great War and worked for the air mail service upon his return, was a prolific author of aviation and adventure stories for both the pulps and slicks from the 1920’s through 1950. Here Caffrey tells the tale of Lieutenant Harry Pond.

To hear the Fight commander tell it, “Look at the luck Pond’s having. Seven Hun planes in less than two weeks. Two in one day. And before each take-off, Harry’s down on his prayer bones in the cockpit; the while, if a mechanic comes alongside, Harry makes him think that he’s adjusting the toe straps on the rudder bar. Crafty boy, Harry; he’s just making a gang of two with God and licking the world. So I’d advise you fellows to go into partnership too.”

Thing was, Pond was messing with his rudder-bar strap. Lieutenant Pond didn’t really like killing. The killing thing, to him, was merely a part of war. He was at war, so he killed. But he killed strictly according to the book, with the true standards of sportsmanship always in mind. Even if it meant allowing an enemy pilot to return home. From the December 1928 number of Flying Aces, it’s Andrew A. Caffrey’s “The Poisoned Pup Squadron!”

When the enemy shot down Pond’s buddy in an orange-black plume of flame, doing this hellish thing against certain unwritten rules of air warfare, trouble started for fair—and then some!

• Download “The Poisoned Pup Squadron” (December 1928, Flying Aces)

FROM the pages of the August 1934 number of Sky Fighters:

Editor’s Note: We feel that this magazine has been exceedingly fortunate in securing Lt. Edward McCrae to conduct a technical department each month. It is Lt. Mcrae’s idea to tell us the underlying principles and facts concerning expressions and ideas of air-war terminology. Each month he will enlarge upon some particular statement in the stories of this magazine. Lt. MaCrae is qualified for this work, not only because he was a war pilot, but also because he is the editor of this fine magazine.

Wings—and Why

by Lt. Edward McCrae (Sky Fighters, August 1934)

NOW I don’t remember of any of you duck-billed flamingoes stepping up and asking me what it was that made a war crate fly—when it did fly. Maybe it was because you had a suspicion that it was because of the wings. And then again, in case you had guessed that much, I thought maybe you’d be wondering just how it was that the wings sustained the ship, even admitting that you knew that the motor gave it sufficient power to propel itself through air.

Well, if you want to give up and learn something, I’ll tell you something about that today. And while I’m at it I suppose this is the best time to explain why some of the ships were monoplanes and some biplanes and even some of them triplanes, as one of the members of the German Albatross family, and one of our own Curtiss ships, as well as others. Wake up and listen to some real scientific information already predigested so it won’t get stuck in your delicate brains.

The answer Is this; when the ship is driven forward by a motor, the wing is so shaped that the air passes over and under the wing according to the “camber” of the wing. The camber is the shape it is in cross section. Take a look at Fig. 1 and you’ll see what I mean.

You’ll notice that the wing is rounded in front, gets thicker and then tapers to almost nothing at the rear or “trailing” edge. The distance from the front to the back is called the chord of the wings. You will see that the air is diverted upward and forms a kind of vacuum or area of reduced pressure over the wing. And also that some of the air hits the under-surface.

The Lift of the Ship

The lift of the ship is caused by the vacuum over the wing and the upward pressure of the wing on the under surface. And it may surprise some of you knot heads to know that the vacuum above the wing furnishes from three-quarters to in some cases ninety-eight per cent of the lift, and therefore the pressure from underneath furnishes from a quarter down to as little as two per cent of the lift.

Now, during the war the engineers knew that the amount of lift a wing surface had depended somewhat on the thickness of the camber and the shape of the wing. A wing that was thick at its maximum depth would naturally shoot the air higher over the wing and form a greater vacuum and thus give more lift. But when it did that it also reduced the speed.

What they wanted, then, was some way to get around that if they could. So, they knew that the greater the wing surface the greater the lift. If you wanted to lift a thousand pounds you would have to have a certain amount of wing surface of a thin camber, but more surface if the camber was thicker.

They Built More Wings

What is more natural, then, than to build more wings, one on top of the other. Take a look at the Albatross airplane as an example. (Fig. 2)

They had a lot of problems. They wanted ships for speed and carrying light weights. These would be the scouts and fighters. They needed others to carry heavy weights.

So they designed ships with wings like the ones shown in Fig. 3. The wing in 3-A is the section of a bomber. It will lift heavy loads, but it flies slowly because it cuts the air at such a steep angle to the line of flight, and it has a slow speed. 3-B shows a wing that will carry a fairly heavy load, fly a little faster and not land too fast. It was used on some training planes, like the old Curtiss Jenny. 3-C would have a much higher flying speed and would be used for reconnaissance and work that took fast maneuvering. And the last one of the wings would be found only on the fastest ships, fighters that had to get places in a hurry.

I remember the first one of these babies with a flat lower camber that came out to our little orchard at Ypers. Bill Bradley who claimed he could fly anything, looked at it and grunted and said, “Hell, that’s nothing but a barn door equipped with a motor and undercarriage. Crank ‘er up and I’ll fly her, though.” And, listen, Mary Jane, he did just that.

So whenever you’re loafing around a flying field and see a pair of wings that are flat on the under-side, just grab your dresses and run, because that ship can get places.

Now, let’s follow a bird that wants to design an airplane and see how he goes about deciding what kind of wings he’s going to put on it. The first question that comes up, of course, is, what you want it for. Say, for instance, we want it for photographing work, or light bombing. At any rate, we want it to carry about two thousand pounds of weight and make reasonably good speed. We don’t want too much speed in landing because the load it carries is delicate, the machine will be heavy and will have to land slowly.

We’ve Learned by Mistakes

Now we’ve learned by the mistakes of others that the average machine will carry about two-thirds of its own weight, or a ratio of 40 per cent cargo to 60 per cent dead weight. That being the case, the ship we have to build must weigh three thousand pounds in order to carry a useful load of two thousand, a total then for ship and cargo of 5,000 pounds.

Now the next thing is how much lift is needed. We know that for an average speed with an average load, with an average motor, the ship should have a lift of seven pounds for every square foot of wing surface. The problem is, how much wing surface will we need to lift five thousand pounds.

Get out your slate Johnny and figure that out. It’s easy. Just divide the total five thousand pounds by seven and you have about 714 square feet of wing surface needed.

Now, shall we supply that 714 feet all in one wing, or break it up into two wings? We figure this way; engineers have learned that the span of a wing across the front of the ship should be at least five times the chord, or depth fore and aft. Now if we tried to build a monoplane on those proportions and got our whole 714 feet of wing surface in it we would have a wing which would be seventy feet across and about ten feet deep.

They’re All Metal Now

That’s not so much of a problem in these days, because of all metal construction that has been perfected since the war. But in those days we had spruce and linen and wooden and wire construction. So, to have built a ship out of wood and wire with seventy foot wings wouldn’t have been so hot. I can promise you, Tilly, that plenty of ships shed their wings when they weren’t even as broad as our seventy-footer.

So, we’ll cut the wings half in two and give 350 feet square to a top and bottom wing. This will allow us to strengthen each wing by bracing it to the other wires and struts. Now we’ve got two wings that aren’t so flimsy, each fifty feet across and only seven feet deep. That’s more like it.

And that’s the way they went about it. And also, that’s the reason you didn’t see so many monoplanes in the Big fracas. Ships were flimsy things and they had to strengthen them as well as they could.

More Monoplanes Today

The Germans had been experimenting with light metal, however, in their Zeppelins, and before the war was over they had constructed a good monoplane with internal bracing that was strong enough to keep it from shedding its wings. But not the Allies. Of course, after the war, the Allied countries got busy and made up for the lost time, and today you see probably more monoplanes, and certainly in the more expensive ships, than biplanes. It saves a lot of external braces and things that offer resistance to the wind, unless its speed you want.

So that, little children, is how the engineers worked day and night to build ships for men to knock out of the sky, and that’s how they learned to finally build ships that are today safer than automobiles, if you believe in insurance statistics, which always tell the truth.

And here’s another truth—it may be stranger than fiction, that business about a ship being lifted by the top side of the wing instead of the underside—but truth always turns out that way.

So, believe it and like it, you flamingoes, while I go out and rip off a couple of wings.

THIS week we have a story by Kenneth Sinclair. Born in 1910, Sinclair had a lengthy run in the pulps. Writing mainly aviation and western stories, his first was in 1932 and his last in 1956. He also published a couple boys adventure novels in the ’50’s where the back covers state Sinclair is a mechanical engineer as well as writer. He died in 1980. “Spandau Salute” finds Terry Ralton going down behind enemy lines convinced that his plane had been tampered with back at the field. If he could just get his hands on that Hawley… And there he was at the German drome he finds himself at!

From the July 1938 issue of Sky Devils, it’s Kenneth L. Sinclair’s “Spandau Salute!”

Those twelve confirmations chalked up beside Terry Ralton’s name on the blackboard back at Wing didn’t mean he could take whole killer-flock of black-crossed buzzards!

• Download “Spandau Salute” (July 1938, Sky Devils)

WHEN Flying, the new weekly paper of all things aviation, started up in England in 1938, amongst the articles and stories and photo features was an illustrative feature called “Heroes of the Air.” It was a full page illustration by S. Drigin of the events surrounding how the pictured Ace got their Victoria Cross along with a brief explanatory note.

Russian born Serge Drigin became a successful illustrator in the UK in the 1920s with his work regularly appearing in such British magazines as The Detective Magazine, Modern Boy and Chums. He is probably best known for his startling covers for Scoops, Air Stories, War Stories, Fantasy and others in the 30s.

From the 23 July 1938 issue of Flying:

CAPTAIN ALBERT BALL, Y.C., IN COMBAT WITH GERMAN FIGHTERS

CAPTAIN ALBERT BALL was awarded the V.C. for a series of conspicuously brave actions, unlike many others who received this high award for one gallant deed alone. Born in Nottingham, he was not nineteen years old when he arrived in France to join No. 13 Squadron. That was in February, 1915, and for a few months he was flying B.E.2C.’s. His courage and his habit of engaging all enemy machines on sight soon won him a transfer to a Fighter Squadron: No. 11, which was equipped with Nieuport Scouts. Towards the end of June he scored his first victory, a balloon. It was tne first and last he shot down, for he thought balloon straffing “a rotten job.” For a short time he went back to a two-seater squadron, but he soon returned to fly Nieuports. His score of enemy machines rose rapidly until, in 1917, it had passed forty. By this time he was serving in the renowned 56 Squadron, where S.E.5’s were used, and it was in an S.E.5 that Ball met his death. All that is really known of his death is that it occurred on May 7, 1917, over Anoellin. How he died is not known, for, although there were many witnesses, their accounts differ very widely. Thus passed Albert Ball, like the great Guynemer, his death shrouded in mystery.

THIS week we have another exciting air adventure from the pen of F.H. Griggs, Jr. Griggs is a rather enigmatic figure with just two stories to his name from those issues indexed by Fiction Mags.

The “Ace-In-The-Hole” Gang is a trio of pilots who came together when they realized they had similarities in their styles of attack and in their disposition. Each of the three men had in his make-up, a strong sense of duty, a responsibility for being in the thick of things, and as time went on the love between them defied death itself. Their fame had spread all along the western front. The trio worked as an independent flight, and were able to stop and refuel at any drome as need be. They were treated as celebrities with the red carpet rolled out for them wherever they alighted.

From the pages of the November 1928 Flying Aces, F.H. Griggs, Jr. tells the tale of “The “Ace-In-The-Hole” Gang’s” final flight.

Captain Billy’s lust to kill should have been satisfied before he ran into a flight of five Fokkers, but he had a debt to pay—and the story of how he paid in full will remain with you as an unforgetable memory as long as you live!

• Download “The “Ace-In-The-Hole” Gang” (November 1928, Flying Aces)