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)

From the pages of the January 1930 issue of Flying Aces it’s Donald E. Keyhoe’s “Air Crimes, Limited!”

A mysterious message from the Chief of the Flying Corps—an organization of master air criminals—red-hot gangster guns—furious breathtaking cloud battles—all woven into a smashing sky yarn by a pilot writer whose articles on aviation are famous!

• Download “Air Crimes, Limited” (January 1930, Flying Aces)

Each year Rusty Wade promised himself a real, old-fashioned Christmas, and each year Fate decreed that he be riding high in the air, eating cold sandwiches instead of thrusting his long legs under a table groaning with turkey and the other good things that went with a Christmas dinner. But this year he was determined to have just that with Mary Heath—the prettiest teacher in the whole Yukon country. Until that faked distress call came in from the ice bound Ellen Dow. From the pages of the January 1930 Air Trails, it’s Christmas in July with Rusty Wade in Frank Richardson Pierce’s “Frozen Wings!”

“Hawk” Breed was out to beat him; but “Rusty” Wade made a dare-devil’s landing and pledged himself to play a desperate game!

• Download “Frozen Wings” (January 1930, Air Trails)

From the January 1930 issue of Sky Birds—

Lieutenant Wood’s engine was hot, but the Huns who tried to force that crate-busting fool out of the sky found that Lieutenant Wood was “hot stuff” too.

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

This time Buck and Lou are asked to fly a load of toys, candy and food through a vicious snow storm to a remote mining camp that the storm has cut off. It’s a harried flight against the accumulating elements and a test of Buck’s flying acumen that will hopefully result in a Merry Christmas for the kids and miners in the camp!

Into the teeth of the storm on a mission of mercy, “Buck” Kent staked his airman’s skill against the blizzard’s might!

• Download “The Christmas Crate” (January 1930, Air Trails)

This time around, gold has been found at an old claim up north and Rusty’s in a race with an unscrupulous pilot to reach the site and stake the claim and get back first to register said claim. Can Rusty outwit and outfly Pratt and get Old Man Dorsey back to the registrar’s off first. From the pages of the February 1929 Air Trails, it’s Frank Richardson Pierce’s “Mushing Down the Air Trail!”

High-powered planes and battling pilots above the snow fields of Alaska!

• Download “Mushing Down the Air Trail” (February 1929, Air Trails)

And as a bonus, here’s “The Landing Field” column from the January 1930 number of Air Trails where we get to know more about Frank Richardson Pierce, Rusty Wade, Alaska and the Air Musher!

THE LANDING FIELD
AIR TRAILS • January 1930 v3n4

IN THESE crisp winter days with snow streaking through the sky, it seems right and proper to introduce Frank Richardson Pierce to you folks. Pierce lives up in the Northwest, up in Seattle, Washington—and he spends a good deal of his time hopping around Alaska. He is an outdoor man in every sense of the word. There are few writers in America who can catch the spirit of the frozen North as he can. His interests lie out under the open sky, with snow fields, fir forests, Canyons and great rivers. It was natural, therefore, that he took to flying.

For the past year you’ve been reading the “Rusty” Wade stories by Pierce. They’ve made a hit with Air Trails readers all over the country. The reason is that they ring as true as the roar of a Whirlwind motor on the nose of a new sport model ship. Pierce knows all about the Rusty Wade country.

He just recently came back from a trip over Alaska. Here’s what he says: “I get a great kick out of flying over some place I’ve walked. It gives me a chance to laugh at myself in comfort. But mostly I prefer flying in Alaska—the walking is tougher there.

“Alaskans lead the nation in air-mindedness. They have been flying for years—not for sport, but for business reasons. Why should a miner pole a boat for days up a river and fight mountains and glaciers when he can fly there with his outfit for a few dollars and still have the whole season ahead of him in which to prospect? Where in previous years it required weeks and months to bring out a load of fur, now it comes out in hours.

“An Eskimo may be popeyed when he arrives in Seattle and sees street cars, automobiles and skyscrapers, but he’ll not even blink at an airplane. He’s seen them before and probably has ridden in one.

“Rusty Wade is a typical Alaskan pilot. Landing fields are few and far between. If a pilot is forced down he has to walk out and it may take him days. And yet, right now, I can’t recall a single crash in which any one was killed. There may have been some, you understand, but I can’t recall them.

“At times, in Rusty Wade stories, I have tried to describe Alaska from the air. Thus far I have failed utterly. I doubt if there is in the whole world, anything more beautiful than flying over ice fields and glaciers studded with mighty peaks and set with lakes of the rarest blue. If any of the readers make a trip next summer, cable ahead to Juneau and make arrangements to see a bit of Alaska from the air while the steamer is lying over.

“At the present time a surveying party is working out of Juneau in planes. They are surveying a waterpower project discovered by the Alaskan air-mappers—a navy outfit. The lake is two thousand three hundred feet above the sea in a rough country. It would take many hours of the hardest work to reach the spot with equipment. The plane leaves Juneau and is on the lake within twenty minutes. It has even taken up a fourteen-foot skiff to the lake.”

A NUMBER of readers have written in, wanting to know what type of plane the Air Musher that Rusty Wade uses is. Well, that’s easy, and it gives us a chance to do a little “ground flying” here in front of the hangars. There’s nothing that a pilot likes so much as to talk about different types of ships.

The Air Musher is a Fokker Universal Monoplane equipped with ski landing gear. It is a type of plane that has stood the test of time. Ask any flyer what he thinks about the Fokker Universal. It has been used for prospecting, forest fire patrol, exploring, crop dusting, and for mail and passenger transportation on most of the air routes of this country and Canada.

With a pilot, four passengers and eighty pounds of mail or baggage, the Fokker Universal can carry enough gas to cruise for six hundred miles. It is generally powered with a Whirlwind motor, and, carrying a fair load, can reach a ceiling of sixteen thousand feet. Fully loaded, the landing speed is forty-five miles per hour and the high speed one hundred and eighteen m.p.h. One of the good things about this crate is the perfect vision provided for the pilot. He sits ahead of the leading edge of the wing and can look forward, right, left, overhead and downward. This is a big feature when you have to set down in rough Alaska country, where landing fields are not made to order.

The Fokker Universal will almost never spin or nose dive when stalled. It glides downward on an even keel while remaining under full control. With its wings of semi-cantilever construction and its strong cabin the Fokker Universal is just the type of ship for work in rough country where flights are made in all kinds of weather. There are bigger ships, more powerful ones, and faster ones; but there are few that can stand up under all conditions like the type of which Rusty’s Air Musher is representative.

If the Air Musher ever cracks up against the side of a glacier, Rusty Wade will probably be getting one of the Fokker Super-Universals to take its place. They are slightly larger ships, with a wing span of fifty feet seven inches, and powered with a Pratt & Whitney four hundred h.p. motor. They can carry as many as eight passengers, and, with a fair load, can reach a service ceiling of eighteen thousand feet. Their top speed is one hundred and thirty-eight miles per hour.