IN LOOKING through the September 1929 issue of Flying Aces for last week’s exciting tale of Handley Page bombers by Arch Whitehouse, the letters page had a lengthy letter addressed to the publisher Harold Hersey himself from William E. Barrett titled “Some Inside Dope on the Flying Industry.”

Here is that letter:

Mr. Harold Hersey
Editor: FLYING ACES.

Dear Mr. Hersey:

Back in 1914, a young man who had designed and flown his own plane while still in high school went to call on another young man who had just won considerable attention by designing the first airplane in America to fly with a motorcycle engine.

At that meeting a friendship was born that has endured through all of the years that have intervened since; it was the first contact of two careers that were fated to parallel and interweave through all of the long struggle which resulted in the “flying game” becoming the “aviation industry. The meeting took place in California and today, Richard Hardin, the caller, and Derek White, the young inventor, are together as the moving spirits of the Guardian Aircraft Corporation of St. Louis.

There Is a lot of color and romance In these two careers which have been woven into the strange pattern from which the aviation industry was cut. Pilots, designers, instructors; the two men moved in different localities and lost sight of each other for years And yet continued to climb in the same direction: contributing much to aviation as they climbed.

In 1913, White had become a serious student of aviation while with the Glenn L. Martin Company, government contractors. At that time the field was wide open to the experimenter and there was little public interest except in the “stunts” and the novelty features of flying.

White experimented with a motorcycle motor and a light plane. His experiments were successful and he had the thrill of flying his own ship in a day when very few men had even experienced the thrill of being “aloft.” About the same time, A.V. Roe, who was ultimately to win fame as the designer of the famous Avro plane of war history, was conducting similiar experiments in England. He, too, was successful.

Hardin was still in high school; an adventurous youth who was greatly impressed with the studies of bird flight, conducted by the physics professor, H LaV. Twining, designer of the Twining Ornithopter, a plane that operated with flapping wings. He, too, succeeded in building and flying a ship of his own design and when word of White’s achievement reached him, he waa anxious to meet this other pioneer and compare experiences.

“Right there at that meeting,” says Hardin, “I cemented my decision to make flying my life work. It was hard to see any future in it at that time but after White and I talked it over, I caught a flash of his enthusiasm. I have never regretted it.”

For the next few years the trails of the two experimenters diverged. White started his own airplane plant and operated it under the name of the White Aircraft Works daring the years 1915, and 16. It was a losing venture, in the long run, as the public was not yet ready to accept aviation as a serious factor in the life of the Nation. Hardin, during this time, was a member of the National Guard of California and was continuing his experiments with new designs, many of which he later used. He built and flew several ships of his own In these years, but like White, found very-little profit in the game.

Late in 1916 and in 1917. White temporarily deserted aviation but couldn’t get far away from it. The thrill of speed and motion and adventure was in his blood. He went into the auto racing game and drove a Mercer on all of the big tracks of the West; Los Angeles, Bakersfield, Phoenix, etc. In between races, he designed the first trimotor monoplane in the United States for the proposed trans-Paciflc flight of Lieutenant W.P. Finlay.
It is a good indication of conditions at the time that the plane was never finished because of the lack of financial backing. The attempt, however, started something. Up till that time no one had ever put a tri-motored monoplane on paper. From then on many designers experimented with this type of ship and today the greatest transport planes are of this type.

April of 1917 brought the war, with opportunity for Hardin and disaster for White. The same week that war was declared, White crashed into a fence in a fiercely contested auto race in which he and Roscoe Sarles vied for public favor. The next fourteen months were spent in hospitals and on crutches.

Hardin had joined the French Flying Corps a year and a half before the United States entered the war, with the hope of getting into the famous Lafayette Escadrille. He was disappointed in this ambition but he saw plenty of air action with a French Chasse squadron assigned to the front line.

His office in the Guardian Aircraft Plant today is decorated with pictures drawn by an artistic buddy of his, showing him in action at the front and hailing him as the “greatest trench straffer of them all.” He left the French service with the “Croix de guerre with one palm and with the medal militaire.”

During his convalescence, White turned to his skill with the pen for a living while more active pursuits were denied him. Newspaper and sales promotion work enabled him to carry on during this period and he worked for such accounts as Durant Motor, Pennzoil and the Columbia Tire Corporation. He also scored a newspaper scoop that was notable on the Pacific Coast, obtaining pictures of the take-off in the Navy flight to Hawaii, the P.N.1 and P.N.3, in the face of the official ban on photographers. These were the only pictures obtained.

Hardin, reluctant to abandon a military career that had allowed him a full measure af flying and adventure, went to Morocco with the Sheriffian Escadrille, composed mostly of American adventurers. This was a bombing unit flying under the colors of the Sultan in French bombing planes. It is credited with performing a notable part in the conquering of Abdel Krim.

The interval between his service in the two wars was filled by a year of design work with the Ordinance Engineering Corporation, builders of the Orenco plane. After the Riff excitement he returned to California and entered the employ of the Douglaa Company at Santa Monica, builders of the Douglas torpedo plane. He was instrumental here in the designing of several outstanding special planes built by the Douglaa people.

Meanwhile White was resisting the lure of aviation and building up a successful advertising agency on the basis of his service accounts.

“I did not, however, drop it as a fascinating hobby,” he says, “I continued to design planes and fly them. I could see, however, that at that time, it would take patience and capital to make money out of this new industry. I had the patience and I used it to get the capital.”

In 1926 the chance that he had been waiting for came. He got the opportunity of combining his knowledge of aviation with his sales promotion and business experience. Colonel G.C.R. Mumby, formerly in command of the Western Repair Depot in France and production officer in the British Air Service during the war, went into partnership with Charles A. Warren for the purpose of establishing a school on the West Coast. White was called in to lay out the plans for the school and to handle the advertising and publicity.

Here, for the first time since they met in 1914, the trails of Hardin and White again crossed. Hardin, fresh from an enlistment in the Navy where he had trained flying cadets and won his bars as Engineering officer assigned to the Admiral’s staff, came to the Warren School as Chief engineer and Supervisor of Instruction.

White, however, did not remain long with the Warren School. His success as a pro-motor was so phenomenal that in 1927 he was sought by the Nicholas Beazley Airplane Company of Marshall, Missouri. He accepted the appointment as General Sales Manager of this concern and also established the Marshall Flying School. This school was an immediate success and Destiny prepared to deal a new hand to Derek White.

In the latter part of 1927 Oliver L. Parks and Harry P. Mammen conceived the idea of an Air College, using a field across the river and closer to the City of St. Louis than any field on the Missouri side could posslbly be. They sought a high grade promoter with experience as an instructor and organizer. All trails led to White. In February, 1928, he took charge of the newly organized Parks Air College under terms which led the organizers to bill him as “the highest priced air school executive in the United States.”

Parks Air College was a “natural.” At the end of six months it had signed more students than any school had ever signed in the history of aviation. A whole fleet of planes had been built up to meet the demands of the increasing army of students and the organizers of the College started to look around for new fields to conquer. They decided to build their own plane, and Parks Aircraft Corporation was born.

Once more Destiny tangled the skeins of two careers that had started practically side by side. A wire to California brought Lieutenant “Dick” Hardin on the scene to become Chief engineer of the new Company and Superintendent of all ground school activities.

By October the Parks Air College hud become the largest commercial flying school in the world and White became restless. The job for which he had contracted was done as far as he was concerned and there was no more thrill of the “uphill drag.” With his own capital he established the Guardian Aircraft Corp. and opened an office and small plant in St. Louis.

Hardin joined him in the new venture and in January, at the expiration of his contract with Parks Air College, White moved the Guardian Company to larger querters, at 2500 Texas Ave. He Incorporated, and with Hardin as his Chief engineer, settled down to the designing of a plane which would sell for two thousand dollars.

Today, the plane is emerging rapidly from the blue prints and taking on form under the hammer, the saw, the welder and the plane. The skeleton is spreading out and it is planned to have the plane ready for test by the middle of August. Already fifteen orders for Guardian monoplanes have been received unsolicited, sight unseen, from people who know and have confidence in the sponsors. A flood of inquiries and requests for dealerships are also being received daily.

That isn’t the whole story, though. No plant that Derek White is connected with would bo complete without a school; so the Guardian Ground School has been organised on a principle so different from any aviation school now in existence that it has been seized on avidly by the aviation trade publications as a new development within the industry.

“The idea for the school was a logical outgrowth of my own career,” says White. “I have served in every branch of the industry and I have been alarmed at the tendency to emphasize the rewards and the glamour of flying and to paint a picture of aviation as a ‘game.’

“It isn’t anything of the kind; it is an industry, the fastest growing industry in the world. It doesn’t need adventurers nearly as badly as it needs business men. That is what we are going to turn out in our school; men trained in the business of aviation. In addition to the usual ground work—design, engineering, maintenance, meteorology and all that, we are going to teach them selling, advertising, production and finance. We have the best laboratory possible by allowing them to work with us in the solving of the problems which arise in our own plant.”

There you are. Two men who have tasted practically everything that aviation holds maintain that its biggest rewards are going to go to the men who stay on the ground and are building a school to prove it. That is a new thought for the youth who wants to get into the “Air” business.

                                                        Yours truly,
                                                        William E. Barrett
                                                        207 Stroh Bldg.,
                                                        4641 Delmar Blvd., St. Louis, Mo.

Here’s an ad for White’s Guardian Ground School from the April 1929 issue of
Popular Aviation and Aeronautics!

THIS week we have another gripping tale from the prolific pen of Arch Whitehouse! Whitehouse had numerous series characters in the various air pulps—Coffin Kirk, Buzz Benson, and The Casket Crew to name a few. Although this week’s story does not feature any of his series characters, it is Whitehouse’s first story about Handley Page Bombers—the very bombers that The Casket Crew would fly!

Here, Whitehouse tells the tale of Air Mechanic Robert Townley who, through the misfortunes of war, works his way from the belly of a great Handley Page dropping bombs to front gunner and eventually to piloting the whole plane when the pilot is killed. From the September 1929 Flying Aces it’s Arch Whitehouse’s “Bombing Eagles!”

Editor’s Note: This gripping story of Handley Page Bombers is the first of its kind ever written. Arch Whitehouse, the author, is an ex-war Ace whom you all know. He holds an enviable fighting record as a flyer overseas from 1914-1920. At present he is our technical editor of SKY BIRDS and Flying Aces, as well as the editor of Plane Dope and Happy Landings, our well known departments of last minute flying news. He has handled all types of fighting planes on hundreds of perilous flights. This is one of the finest stories we have ever published. We hope you will enjoy reading it as much as we have.

• Download “Bombing Eagles” (September/October 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!

It was just too bad they hadn’t started the Caterpillar Club away back in 1918. But you can’t blame them—they didn’t know they were cheating Phineas “Carbuncle” Pinkham out of his one and only chance to join!

From the November 1932 number of Flying Aces!

• Download “Good to the First Drop” (November 1932, Flying Aces)

THIS November we’re celebrating William E. Barrett’s Birthday on the 16th with four of his pulp stories—one each Friday.

Before he became renown for such classics as The Left Hand of God and Lilies of The Field, Barrett honed his craft across the pages of the pulp magazines—and nowhere more so than in War Birds and it’s companion magazine War Aces where he contributed smashing novels and novelettes, True tales of the Aces of the Great War, encyclopedic articles on the great war planes as well as other factual features. Here at Age of Aces Books he’s best known for his nine Iron Ace stories which ran in Sky Birds in the mid ’30s!

This week we have the fourth and final of our four stories celebrating William E. Barrett’s birthday this month.

His tunic was Bond Street and there was a flair to it that only a tailor with three years of war experience could impart. His breeches were cut wide and were a coral pink. The gloss on his boots could only be attained on a boot costing five pounds—and he carried a swagger stick that was made of cartridge casings, surmounted by a knob that was nothing else but the spark plug out of a crashed German plane.

All in all, the new C.O. was an elegant figure; one to inspire hatred—and a fierce envy in the breast of any pilot. He made the mistake of looking for the hatred and expecting it. He might, if he’d known it, as easily found friendship and liking—

It’s William E. Barrett’s “The C.O.’s Stripes” from the pages of the January 1933 Flying Aces.

There were ribbons on the tunic of that new C.O. that showed he had not felt fear when German lead was singing and death was combing the air—ribbons no coward could have won. Yet now, with nothing in sight below but the pilots of the 19th Pursuit Squadron, their new commander was afraid to land!

• Download “The C.O.’s Stripes” (January 1933, Flying Aces)

THIS November we’re celebrating William E. Barrett’s Birthday on the 16th with four of his pulp stories—one each Friday.

Before he became renown for such classics as The Left Hand of God and Lilies of The Field, Barrett honed his craft across the pages of the pulp magazines—and nowhere more so than in War Birds and it’s companion magazine War Aces where he contributed smashing novels and novelettes, True tales of the Aces of the Great War, encyclopedic articles on the great war planes as well as other factual features. Here at Age of Aces Books he’s best known for his nine Iron Ace stories which ran in Sky Birds in the mid ’30s!

This week we have the third of our four stories celebrating William E. Barrett’s birthday this month. It’s “Handicap Flight” from the pages of the December 1932 Flying Aces.

Word had come through that the yards and factories of Mouzon must be bombed. The De Havillands had been beaten back twice when within sight of the city as had a flight of fourteen ships. Wing had come to the decision that one lone plane may have a better chance than a large group and it all came down to a cut of the cards to decide who would go on the suicide mission!

Death was writing on the black wings of that Yank bomber as it hurtled on toward Mouzon. It was a mad gamble—to send one lone pilot on a mission where eight ships and sixteen men had failed!

• Download “Handicap Flight” (December 1932, 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!

Major Garrity was fuming in his lair. Outside, Bump Gillis and the boys were waiting like a lot of palpitating schoolgirls for the axe to fall on Phineas Pinkham. But you know Phineas—the kind of guy who could be thrown into an incinerator and come out covered with ice cream!

• Download “The Bat’s Whiskers” (October 1932, 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!

Lights! Camera! Action! Phineas “Carbuncle” Pinkham goes into the movies in a big way! But a lot can happen to a roll of film when Phineas gets up in the air posing as . . . .”The Reel Hero!”

From the September 1932 number of Flying Aces!

• Download “The Reel Hero” (September 1932, 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!

Phineas Pinkham is already grounded and in the doghouse when he almost kills a colonel. Old Man Garrity’s had his fill, so when von Bessinger sends a challenge to the Ninth Pursuit’s thorn in their side, Garrity lets Phineas goto challenge the Von under on condition—he doesn’t come back! It’s Joe Archibald’s “Spy a’la Mode” from the August 1932Flying Aces.

For the first time in his life Phineas “Carbuncle” Pinkham wondered if a sense of humor wasn’t a handicap to a man who aspired to grow a long white beard and play with his grandchildren. It had taken a lot to make him feel that way—just a little matter of assaulting a Colonel!

• Download “Spy a’la Mode” (August 1932, Flying Aces)

FREDERICK BLAKESLEE is probably best known for his many aviation covers he painted for Popular Publication’s line of air pulps—Dare-Devil Aces, Battle Birds, Battle Aces, Fighting Aces and, of course, G-8 and his Battle Aces. But Blakeslee occasionally did covers for many other magazines, including three for Flying Aces in the summer of 1930!

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

“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!

Phineas Pinkham thinks he has a sure fire way of keeping von Bessinger and his circus from downing the squadron of D.H.4s The 9th is escorting, but what he doesn’t realize his that he is actually playing with fire, and the hair he parts may be on his own head!

Phineas Pinkham had promised von Bissinger a new kind of haircut—one that could part his head in the middle as well as his hair. Dangerous stuff—the hair tonic that Phineas used!

• Download “Herr Tonic” (July 1932, Flying Aces)

INTRODUCING war ace and flying author Thomas Alfred Belcher Ditton or Major T.A.B. Ditton as he credited himself on the stories he had published. His pulp career was brief. Ditton only had 17 stories published from 1929 through 1936 in magazines like Sky Birds, Flying Aces, War Aces, Bill Barnes Air Adventures, Thrilling Adventures and Top Notch. Sky Birds did cover Ditton in one of their half a dozen “Flying Into View” features which profiled a different famous birdman or well known character in the world of flying each month. We’ll start with that; then list his pulp bibliography; and follow it up with three of his stories.

Flying Into View
introducing MAJOR T.A.B. DITTON, R.A.F.

“. . . HE WENT DOWN end over end and crashed behind the German lines, leaving the three other Albatrosses to finish me off, now that I’d used up my last few bullets on him,” continued “Tabs” Ditton, as he ordered more coffee.

“There was nothing that I could do,” he went on, “but do my best to out-stunt ’em and get back to my drome with a whole crate. I sure did stunt that Dolphin, but just a bit too much. With the snarling hun ships swarming all over me I kicked the rudder over and threw her into a vertical bank with the power full on. There was a sudden lurch, a snapping, splintering cra-a-a-a-a-ack, and the two left wings just folded up and over the center section! The bus went into a sickening spin at once, and after a few turns the broken wings came off and went turning and twisting down off to one side. I shed ’em at four thousand feet and I sure covered that in short order.

“All the way down I cut the engine in and out and wrestled with the controls, hoping to get what there was left of the bus out of the spin. I’d unhooked my safety belt so that I would have a chance at least of getting clear when she hit, if I was still interested in getting clear.

“Well, we spun down to about two hundred feet and then the bus came out of the spin for a few seconds. Then when we got down to about a hundred she came out again and slid down on one wing. The men on the ground that saw me said I was thrown clear when she hit, and landed about fifty feet off to one side. I went out for a while and came to in a hospital all snarled up in bandages. I was out in about two weeks and back in the air even if my left eye wasn’t so good,” concluded “Tabs.”

Major T.A.B. Ditton, as he is officially known, was with the R.F.C., which later became the R.A.F., from 1916 until the end of the war. He is officially credited with thirteen German planes, about the same number unofficially, and that besides balloons. He also has several decorations for his skill and bravery in the air.

“Tabs,” as he was known to the men of his outfit, learned to fly on Maurice-Farmans, or “short horns.” He says that they had so many guy wires that the only way they could be tested to see if they were rigged right was to put a canary in the pilot’s seat. If the canary could fly out through the snarl of wires and struts the ship wasn’t rigged right. From those he went on Avros, S.E.5s, Sop. Camels and D.H.5s. He also had flights in bombing crates to make his training complete. Camels were his special hobby, even if they were tricky boats to push around upstairs.

One time one of the “higher ups” decided that the pilots at his drome had not had enough stunting to keep them in trim, so he was ordered up for a few wingovers. Before he went up he had another officer move the planes out of one of the permanent hangars and open the doors on both sides.

After a few rolls and loops he dove his little Sop. Pup down in a screaming dive straight through the hangar and out the other side. He said he landed with his chest all puffed out and was at once put under arrest for reckless flying. The officer who had requested the stunting practice, however, managed to get him off. But needless to say that sort of stunts was barred in the future.

AFTER LUNCH was over “Tabs” and I caught a train for his home in Greenwich Village, where he turns out the stories you men are clamoring for. Here, with his feet parked on a footstool made from the prop of that same Dolphin whose wings he shed, he showed me snapshots of overseas days and told me some of his narrow escapes. This one he says was a joke on himself.

He was setting a Camel down when her wheels caught on a stump. The tail rose up in a high arc and came down with a terrific crun-n-n-n-nch where the plane’s nose should be. “Tabs,” hanging head down from his safety belt, took account of all his bones and found that at least he was all there and not hurt. He was trying to unhook his belt, which was held tightly because of his weight pulling on it, when an “Ack-emma” came running up to see if he was killed, or only banged up. After being assured that “Tabs” was O.K., the Ack-emma reached up under the fuselage and unhooked the safety belt for the suspended pilot. Now for the tragic part of the story! Ditton had forgotten by this time to hold onto the sides of the fuselage, so that when the safety belt snap was released he dropped about two feet and landed on his head. Just his tough luck, after cracking up a ship without getting a mark.

Another almost fatal flight was in a Camel that had been rigged up for instruction work. The main gas tank had been removed and another pilot cockpit and set of controls had been put in where the gas tank had been located. So many young pilots were killed soloing in Camels that it had been thought best to rig up dual controls in a few ships to enable the instructors to ride along with students and help ’em.

Well, this particular bus had just been converted, and Ditton was to give her a buzz or two over the field for a tryout. He told the “Ack-emma” to take the safety belt out of the front seat so that it would not get in the way of the stick.

“Tabs” took the bus up a good ways and proceeded to do his stuff with her. A few minutes later he decided to loop her. The loop went O.K. till he tried to level off at the end of the loop. Try as he might he couldn’t get the stick back to neutral to save his neck, so up went the nose into another loop. He cut the motor and of course she stalled. He did his best but the stick refused to go forward an inch. Right and left O.K. But front? Not an inch!

He finally decided to stall and spin and side slip all the way down to the field. When he landed there was quite an audience waiting for an explanation, including several C.O.s. The first thing Ditton did was to look into the front pit, and there, sure enough, was the safety belt looped over the stick. When the plane had gone into the first loop the belt had hung, down, of course, and swung over the end of the stick. When the stick was shoved forward at the end of the loop of course it tightened the belt about the stick in the front pit, and there it was locked for good. That Ack-emma is still running!

Major Ditton is a yery popular author here at the Sky Birds drome. You can read more of his split second air thrills at any time—because he draws all of his yarns from actual personal experience.

Bibliography

title	magazine	date	vol	no
1929
The Desert Hawk	Sky Birds	Sep/Oct	3	1
Aerobatics	Aviation Stories	Oct	1	3
1930
Death Deviation	Flying Aces	Jan	4	4
The Flying Idol	Sky Birds	Jan	3	4
Eagle of the North	Flying Aces	Feb	5	1
Three Points Ahead	Flying Aces	Mar	5	2
Air Wolves	Flying Aces	Apr	5	3
Death Rides High	Flying Aces	May	5	4
Desert Vultures	Sky Birds	May	4	4
Boom Buzzards	Flying Aces	Aug	6	3
1932
Stars in the Sky	War Aces	Apr	9	25
Artillery Guys	Battle Stories	Jul	10	57
1935
Annihilation or a Firing Squad	Dime Adventure	Jun	1	1
Diamonds in the Sky	Bill Barnes	Sep	4	2
Sable Rider	Thrilling Adventures	Nov	15	3
Black Saber	Thrilling Adventures	Dec	16	1
1936
Wings of the Dragon	Top-Notch	Jan	98	1

 
Here are a trio of his stories that ran in the 1930 in the pages of Flying Aces and Sky Birds.

Death Derivation

Murder in the skies. The slain pilot lay slumped in his cockpit—the blue mark of a pistol shot on his forehead. A mysterious killing in the air that will keep you guessing.

• Download “Death Derivation” (January 1930, Flying Aces)

The Flying Idol

Yank flying courage clashes with the treacherous cunning of a swarm of godless yellow devils. A tale of thrills and daring adventure in heathen skies!

• Download “The Flying Idol” (January 1930, Sky Birds)

Death Rides High

Powell was fighting mad. It wasn’t the crashed altimeter that got him—it was the startling discovery he made after that.

• Download “Death Rides High” (May 1930, 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!

Phineas Pinkham and his hut mate Bump Gillis are sent over to take out a German supply dump in Joe Archibald’s “No Money, No Flyee!” from the June 1932 Flying Aces.

Experience had taught Major Rufus Garity’s boys not to believe a word Phineas “Carbuncle” Pinkham said. And that was why, when he came back with the news that a squadron of Pfalz ships had moved into their sector, they thought it was a Pfalz alarm!

• Download “No Money, No Flyee!” (June 1932, 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!

Phineas Pinkham meets his match when the 9th Pursuit’s latest replacement in the form of one Lieutenant Monk Flanagan, once known as Perfesser Merlin the Great of the Hipperdrome Vodyville Circuit, arrives. Poor Phineas gets a taste of his own medicine—he can certainly dish it up, but can he take it? Find out in Joe Archibald’s latest Phineas mirthquake, “Pride of the Pinkhams” from the May 1932 Flying Aces.

One Phineas “Carbuncle” Pinkham to a squadron would be enough in any man’s war—according to Major Rufus Garrity. But somebody back at Wing thought differently when he assigned Lieutenant Monk Flanagan, late of the Hippodrome Vaudeville Circuit, to the Ninth Pursuit!

• Download “Pride of the Pinkhams” (May 1932, Flying Aces)

THIS week we have a story by J.D. Rogers, Jr. Rogers is credited with roughly fourteen tales from the pages of Flying Aces, Sky Birds and Sky Aces. “The Yellow Ace” from the August 1929 Flying Aces was his first published tale. In it James Lawrence arrives on the tarmac of the 23rd Squadron R.F.C. with his newly designed fighter plane. In the make-up of this plane was the knowledge and experience of a young man who had played and worked in his father’s aeroplane factory since age permitted. Prompted by zealous patriotic duty he had built this super fighter for his country, a country which the warring nations had far surpassed in the art of building aircraft. Refused a fair demonstration of his plane by a very inexperienced air board, the youth, with his flame of patriotism quenched, turned from his own country to England whose air board was frantic for a plane fast enough and maneuverable enough to successfully combat the German demons who had held the air supremacy through the war.

England welcomed the American. Her air experts praised the flying qualities of his plane demonstrated in trying maneuvers, but they were skeptical of its fighting ability. It was then that the youth, reckless because of miserable failure at home and unexpected success abroad, offered to fly his plane in real combat to prove its fighting ability. The air board, convinced that the pilot knew the maneuvers of air combat, gave him a thirty day trial upon the battle front to prove his handiwork. . .

Read the thrilling adventures of the man who was branded a coward. Follow flaming tracers as they eat into his plane. Watch him zig-zag through steel-spattered skies—and see if he’s yellow!

• Download “The Yellow Ace” (August 1929, Flying Aces)

THIS week we have another story by Alfred Hall Stark. Stark wrote a dozen or so stories for the pulps, frequently dealing with aviation, in the late twenties and early thirties before building a reputation for writing well-researched, fact-based articles for The Reader’s Digest, Popular Science, Saturday Evening Post and others.

As we found out in the letter Flying Aces published the month before last week’s story and two months before “Decoys of Doom”, Stark had written and submitted this story to the magazine first. From the July 1929 Flying Aces, it’s Alfred Hall Stark’s “Decoys of Doom.”

Every day the patrol went over the lines, and came back minus one plane and one man. Only the missing flyers could tell how they had mysteriously vanished—and the dead were turning in no reports at H.Q.

• Download “Decoys of Doom” (July 1929, Flying Aces)