EduTech Research Project
The Unpublished Manuscripts of
Dr. Robert W. Brockway
THE PLUCKY PIONEERS
OF ARMY AVIATION IN HAWAII:
THEY EARNED THEIR FLYING PAY!
Photo research by William Hillman
Supplementary photos from the Brockway Collection are in preparation
In 1935, at age thirteen, I had my first airplane ride in a Keystone bomber, probably a Keystone LB-5A. Like Snoopy in PEANUTS, I wore goggles, helmet, flight jacket, and a white silk scarf. My father, a master sergeant in the Army Air Corps, had arranged for this flight, and went along in the rear gunner's cockpit. How pleased I was when the flight board showed me as co-pilot! We took off from Luke Field on Ford Island, Pearl Harbor, Hawai'i, the wind rushing past the open cockpit, snatching at my scarf, while the land dropped away below. I had cotton in my ears to mute the deafening thunder of the two Wright R-1750-3 Cyclone engines. You knew you were flying then !
We rose over Pearl Harbor and cruised over Waikiki. I marvelled at the turquoise of the sea blending into deep blue. Then we flew up, seemingly step by step, the engines roaring ever more loudly, up over the Ko'olaus, and circled over Lanikai. The pilot, Lieutenant Bison, pointed out the shadow of the plane on the clouds surrounded by a halo of sunlight. Too soon, the flight was over.
Not long after my maiden flight, Mauna Loa erupted on the Island of Hawai'i, and a lava flow threatened Hilo1. Keystones bombed the fiery flow and diverted it safely from the town. Shortly after, the same Keystone I had flown in, Number 118, collided with another during a night-flying exercise over Ford Island2. One incredibly lucky man whose chute failed to open properly had it snag on a fifty-foot-high naval water tower, breaking his fall. He came out of the accident with a broken leg. Six other airmen were killed. Afterwards old Hawaiians were rumored to have said that the crash had happened because Pele, the volcano goddess, was angry at the men and planes that had bombed her lava flow.
Design flaws, unreliable engines, and pilot error combined to make peacetime flying in the military a hazardous occupation. Indeed, considering the history of accidents in the Hawaiian Department of the Army's Air Service units, the airmen earned the extra pay they received for venturing aloft! I remember pilots discussing the biplanes' unpredictable tailspins, from which few could recover. I remember my father berating the mechanics under his supervision for careless work maintaining the engines. And later, I learned of the long history of crashes bedevilling the Army's air service since its inception in 1913.
Dawn, 9 May 1918. Major Harold M. Clark, Jr. and his observer, Sergeant Robert P. Gray, took off from Fort Kamehameha in a Curtiss R-6, a two-seater dual-float seaplane with a 200-horsepower engine. They flew over Honolulu, rose to 6000 feet over the astonished swimmers at Waikiki, and headed for the Island of Maui. The flight plan called for a landing in Lahaina Straits, but winds and surf were too rough, so the fliers landed in breakwater-sheltered Kahului Bay on northeast Maui. Here they were greeted by an enthusiastic, cheering crowd of several thousand islanders who had never seen an airplane before.
Clark and Gray refueled, took off, and flew southeast to the Big Island (Hawai'i) bound for Hilo on the southeast coast. Soon after passing over the North Kohala peninsula, dense cloud enveloped them. Clark realized there was danger of crashing into the towering peaks of Mauna Kea or Mauna Loa or the slightly lower Mount Hualalai, or of becoming lost at sea. He dropped down cautiously, hoping to get below the clouds and get his bearings, but found his plane brushing the treetops, deliberately stalled his engine, and crash-Ianded in the Kaiwiki area on the eastern slope of snow-capped Mauna Kea. Neither of the downed "birdmen" were hurt, but they had no idea where they were. They lit a fire of burning airplane fabric as an emergency signal. This was actually spotted by members of the search party who assumed, however, that it was a cane or trash fire and did not bother to investigate. The major and sergeant finally started out on foot, groping their way through dense growth along a small stream until, exhausted, they stumbled into a small native Hawaiian village a day later. Hawaii's long history of air disasters had begun.
Four years earlier, Islanders had craned their necks and gawked in astonishment at the primitive flying machine which soared over Diamond Head, made a wide turn, then sputtered back toward Pearl Harbor. It was 8 August 1913, and this was the first military flight in the history of Hawai'i. At the controls was First Lieutenant Harold E. Geiger, a fledgling pilot of the newly-formed Aviation Division of the United States Army Signal Corps. He and his men were based at Fort Kamehameha, at the mouth of Pearl Harbor. A short course at the Glenn Curtiss Aviation School on North Island in San Diego Bay had provided minimal training for the Aviation Division's pilot, twelve enlisted men, and a civilian technical adviser.
The Aviation Division was assigned two aircraft, a Curtiss Model E dual-control trainer with a 60-horsepower engine (Signal Corps No.8) and a Curtiss Model G Tractor with a 75 horsepower Model O engine (Signal Corps No.21), both originally designed as landplanes, but converted into seaplanes. At Bishop's Point, a hangar and slip were built for them. Mounted on small flatcars, they could be rolled into the water on specially-built railroad tracks. Geiger first took up the Curtiss Model E. On this plane, the engine was mounted behind the pilot, and the propeller behind the engine, as was common at that time. In a crash, the power plant was almost certain to break loose from its mountings and crush the pilot. For this reason "pusher" planes, as they were called, were soon condemned by the army.3
The inexperienced Geiger's first problem in taking off was the flat coral reef just offshore of Fort Kamehameha. From beach to reef the water is shallow save at high tide. To make matters worse, there were buoys and stakes to dodge. Geiger learned that the air was usually calm just before dawn, so he took off in the dark early in the morning, startling naval men below as they heard the sputtering engine of the Model E flying low above them around the harbor. Geiger made several more short flights before he successfully attempted a longer cruise around Honolulu4.
He made his first flight in the Model G on August 28, a series of short hops across the water.5 By October, he succeeded in reaching an altitude of 400 feet. However, the right wings continually sagged in flight because the hastily-added floats had unbalanced the plane, so Geiger was ordered to cease flying No.21. Soon after, the fledgling pilot was ordered to stop flying the Model E as well. Both planes were crated, and the unit sent back to North Island for more training.6 Geiger had the two float planes uncrated and reassembled In March of 1914, and continued his test flights over Pearl Harbor. In mid-June, a Signal Corps inspector arrived and condemned both planes as obsolete. They were offered at auction minus their engines, but no bids were received. They were finally sold for a pittance.7
The Hawaiian Department Air Office was established on 26 November, 1916, (with no aeroplanes initially assigned). On 13 March 1917, forty-nine of fifty Signal Corpsmen of the Sixth Aero Squadron arrived in Honolulu (one had deserted). A Curtiss N-9C and an R-6 seaplane8 were shipped over and assembled at the landing slip. The N-9C was a single-float, dual-controlled trainer powered by a 100- horsepower Curtiss OXX-6 engine9, one of fourteen ordered for the Signal Corps. Soon after, Major Harold M. Clark Jr. (for whom Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines was later named) arrived in the islands and made the flight in the R-6 ending in the disaster described earlier.
The 6th Aero Squadron and its one remaining seaplane (either the N-9C or the R-6, sources disagree) were transferred to the new Ford Island Flying Field on 25 September 1918. By then the Air Service had become a separate branch of the amly. Two wooden landplane hangars, a double seaplane hangar with concrete runways, a small motor repair and machine shop, and a supply warehouse were in use by the end of the year. The bachelor officers and enlisted men were housed in tents, the married officers and NCOs in quarters at Fort Kamehameha. In 1919, the base was named for Frank Luke, "the Balloon Buster," a World War One ace who shot down eighteen German planes in seventeen days of combat flying.10
De Haviland DH-4A
By the end of the First World War, 135 surplus De Haviland DH-4As (day bombardment landplanes) and 20 HS-2Ls had been sent to Hawai'i. The HS-2Ls were built as long-range Navy seaplanes with a 4.5 hour endurance rating, useful for inter-island flights. The DH-4As were badly designed: the gas tank was located between the pilot and observer. In a crash, both were certain to be killed if the tank exploded. Most of the DH-4As were left to rot in their crates11. There were also a few war surplus JN-6HGs (Jennys) sent, and later, Martin NBS-1 bombers. The latter were open cockpit, two-engine biplanes with wingspans of about 74 feet. They were the standard heavy bombardment planes of the Air Service's twelve bombardment squadrons until 1926. All of the above were fabric and frame biplanes with water-cooled engines. All were prone to engine failure in flight, and the DHs to unpredictable tailspins. It is notable that the insignia chosen for the airmen of the 5th Composite Group was a winged skull!
Accidents abounded, some probably caused by pilot error, some by aircraft design flaws, some by the fragility of the planes, some by inadequate maintenance. On 18 November 1918, Second Lieutenant Walter Crowdus was injured and Corporal Mark B. Grace killed when one of the recently acquired DH-4s plummeted from a height of 2400 feet at Fort Kamehameha. On 28 August 1920, Lieutenant G. Morman of the 4th Squadron piloting of one of two DH-4s on a flight to Moloka'i saw the plane piloted by Lieutenant Robert R. Fox of the 6th enter a cloudbank over the island, never to emerge. Morman searched the area until lack of fuel forced him to return to Luke Field. A ten-day search by all available aircraft failed to find any trace of the downed plane. There were pigeons aboard12, and as none of them returned, it was later decided that Fox's DH-4 had dived into the sea.
An army HS-2L seaplane made a forced landing in the rough seas off Ninole on the Island of Hawai'i on December 2 of the same year. The three airmen (Lt. Donald G. Duke, Captain Levy Johnson, and Lt. H. Gale) plunged into the surf, dashing the plane against the rocks. Islanders threw ropes down to the men floundering in the waves below and hauled them to safety up the sheer, 300 foot cliffs.
During maneuvers, Major Sheldon H. Wheeler took off from Luke Field on 13 July 1921in a DH-4. The plane stalled, spun, crashed, and burst into flames shortly after takeoff. Both the pilot and the observer, Sergeant Thomas A. Kelly, were killed. Wheeler Field, the Hawaiian Division Air Field located on the old drill field of the 17th Cavalry at Schofield Barracks, was later named in his honor.
A DH-4 flown by Lieutenant Ulric Boquet with Staff Sergeant Vernon Vickers as observer went into a spin in October of 1921, and crashed in a canefield on the Waipio Peninsula at Pearl Harbor, killing both men. During May of 1922, a plane piloted by Lieutenant William J. White made a forced landing in the surf off Haleiwa in the northwestern part of O'ahu. VVhile he suffered a broken nose and deep cuts, the observer, Staff Sergeant Rex Glasscock, escaped unscathed. The men were able to make their way through the surf to the shore. Both aviators in a DH-4 flown by Lieutenant W. D. Clark survived a crash the month after Boquet ditched when their engine failed in flight.
Jennys too had their share of accidents. On 9 August 1922 a Jenny flown by Lieutenant Meyers had to make a forced landing in a vacant lot across the highway from the flying field when the engine failed while the pilot was attempting to land. Wires strung above the ground also took their toll of unwary pilots. Earlier, on May 16, a Jenny piloted by Lieutenant E. H. Wood had brushed one, destroying the propeller and bringing the plane down. Fortunately both the pilot and the observer escaped uninjured. On October 24, Lieutenant Earle H. Manzelman was not so lucky: he was killed when his Jenny struck a high tension wire at Kipapa Gulch just north of Pearl Harbor .
Mid-air collisions were also on the increase. Six days after Manzelman's fatal crash, a Jenny and a DH-4 collided over Luke Field. The Jenny crashed onto a freight barge injuring not only the pilot and observer, but men on the barge as well, while the DH-4 went down in Pearl Harbor drowning both crewmen.
On 27 March, 1924, a Martin NBS-1 bomber piloted by Lieutenant William G. Moore hit an air pocket over Luke Field and struck a baseball backstop. The stricken plane burst into flames and the pilot and the two enlisted crewmen aboard were killed.
The worst year for crashes in the aviation history of the islands, however, was 1925. Hardly a month went by without an air disaster. In January, there were two accidents involving Martin NBS-I bombers; one at Kahului, Maui, and the other on the Parker Ranch on the Island of Hawai'i. Neither was serious: no one was hurt, and both planes were repaired and flown back to Luke Field. But enlisted pilot Master Sergeant David Grosvenor of the 65th Service Squadron at Luke Field crashed his Jenny on 20 February in the Kaihihau fishpond three miles east of Fort Kamehameha, killing him and seriously injuring his observer, Master Sergeant Robert Pellew. On 27 March, shortly after takeoff, the Jenny flown by lieutenant Clifford Elleman of the 65th Service Squadron nosedived suddenly and crashed. He was killed when the plane burst into flames.
For three months, there were no significant mishaps. Then on 17 July, an MB-3 pursuit plane collided with a naval plane and crashed off Fort Kamehameha killing lieutenant Landon Catlett. The stricken navy plane made a safe landing. July 27 of that year, however, was the worst day of all for air disasters. Four army aircraft crashed in three separate accidents in the course of an hour and ten minutes. There was a mid-air collision over Ford Island in which an MB-3A flown by lieutenant Charles Morse of the 19th Pursuit Squadron stationed at Wheeler Field collided with a Navy DT-2 torpedo plane piloted by Chief Petty Officer Frosio. The collision occurred just after both planes took off from adjacent airstrips, at an altitude of only 150 feet. Once again, the navy plane made a safe landing, but the MB-3A crashed and killed Morse. At 0900 the same day, Lieutenant John A. Wyatt of the 4th Observation Squadron took off in a DH-4A from Wheeler Field with Staff Sergeant Prosper ter Meullen aboard as observer, bound for Luke Field ten miles to the south. Attempting to avoid a rain shower, Wyatt dropped down and flew low along the ridge of Kipapa Gulch. The DH-4 struck a high tension wire on the rim of the gulch, spun out of control,and crashed. Both aviators were thrown clear, but Wyatt was killed instantly and ter Meullen died in hospital of his injuries later that night. When news of the accident reached Wheeler Field, Lieutenant John McBlain and observer Private John Hawkins of the 4th took off to investigate. McBlain located the crash site, flew low to get a better look, struck another high tension wire, and went down. McBlain was seriously wounded, but Hawkins survived with minor injuries. Just on that one day, three airmen lost their lives.
Billy Mitchell and his MB-3 pursuit plane
Navy DT-2 Torpedo Plane
The deadly year was not yet over. On 2 October, an NBS-1 of the 23rd Bombardment Squadron crashed in the sea off O'ahu. The plane was a complete loss, but the pilot and crew were rescued. Three days later an OA-1 Luening Air Yacht (an amphibian familiarly known as a "duck") crashed in a cleared canefield on the Waipio Peninsula killing all three men aboard. On 23 November, Captain Karl Gorman successfully ditched an NBS-1 in the surf off Waimea when both engines failed. Unfortunately, the high surf flipped the huge bomber, killing the pilot and lieutenant Howard Brandt. The other two members of the crew managed to make their way to shore. In all, twelve aviators lost their lives in crashes during 1925.
OA-1 Luening Air Yacht
The two pursuit squadrons stationed in Hawai'i received twelve Boeing PW-9s, single seater biplanes with water cooled engines, during 1926. On 11 May, lieutenant Chennault ran his PW-9 into a railroad dolly and motorcycle while trying to take off. No one was hurt and the plane was repaired. On 18 May, another PW-9 suffered damage when Second Lieutenant T. Griffis was landing at luke Field. He also escaped injury. Two PW-9s of the 19th Pursuit Squadron collided near Waipahu on 17 September. Lieutenant Wisehart, the pilot of one, made a safe landing. Lieutenant Charles Williams, flying the other, became the first person in the islands to have to bail out of a plane. He came down safely, and became the first Hawaiian member of the Caterpillar Club of the Switlik Parachute Company of New Jersey. Membership of this elite circle was limited to those who had survived a forced parachute jump.
Spirit of St. Louis
Fokker Trimotor C-2
The year 1927 was one of the most important years in the history of aviation. In March, "Lucky Lindy" made his famous trans-Atlantic flight in The Spirit of St. Louis. Five weeks later, two lieutenants of the Army Air Corps, Lester J. Maitland and Albert Heggenberger, flew a Fokker trimotor C-2 #26-202 called "Bird of Paradise" the 2,400 miles from the mainland to Hawai'i in twenty-five hours and fifty minutes, the first to accomplish this feat. They carried a pup on board as mascot. (My father brought him home two years later, and sad to say, ran over him while backing the Pontiac out of the driveway of our home on Piikoi Street.) Lindbergh commented that this crossing had been "The most perfectly organized and carefully planned flight ever attempted."13 But in a special" Aloha Flight" of 12 PW-9s held on 6 July to mark the departure of Maitland and Heggenberger from Hawai'i, Lieutenant Charles Williams tried to perform an aeleron roll, stalled, and crashed off Fort DeRussy. He died from his injuries.
A memorable incident occurred on 23 June 1927 when Lieutenant George Polk with three men aboard took off from Luke Field with four other Martin MB-1s for an exercise over the north of O'ahu. No sooner had the bombers gained altitude when Polk discovered to his dismay that the bolts holding one of the wheels to the struts had sheared off. The plane had either to be repaired in the air or make a crash landing. He dropped a note on the field, requesting replacement parts. Lieutenant J. D. Givens with Lieutenant Philip S. Schneeberger aboard took off in a DH-4 with bolts and a rope, caught up with the five Martins, and lowered the precious package – but to the wrong plane. After a failed attempt to recover the bolts by having them lowered back to the DH-4, they flew back to Luke Field for more supplies, took off again, and with a clearer idea of their target, attempted to lower the bolts to the private seated in the rear cockpit, or to the one seated in the "meat can"(as the nose was called). Both were raw recuits who had never been up before; neither could catch the wildly oscillating package. Undaunted, the pilots maneuvered the planes wing to wing. Schneeberger then crawled out on the wing of the DeHaviland and successfully passed the bolts to Sergeant Monroy who had edged out on the Martin's wing. On his way back, Schneeberger's chute opened suddenly and almost swept him off, but he was quick-witted enough to save himself. Monroy climbed down to the landing gear struts, and with the help of Private Cyr tried to fix the loose wheel. Between the turbulence and the ninety-mile-an-hour wind, he could not do it. An aerial photograph of mine shows him on the landing gear trying to make the repair. Truly a brave man!
There was now no option for the stricken plane but a crash landing in the harbor. Polk first flew back to Luke Field, where he thriftly dropped the parachutes to keep them from being ruined by salt water. Unfortunately, one of them fouled one of his propellers and stalled the motor. On the one remaining engine, Polk successfully ditched the Martin in Pearl Harbor, and all four men were rescued unhurt. Polk, who had crash-Ianded another plane in just the same spot a few months before, wryly remarked to his rescuers that he thought he was "now qualified for submarine service. "
Two further fatal accidents occurred before 1927 ended. A DH-4M crashed and burned on 2 September after striking a telephone wire, killing the pilot, Captain John W. Signer, and seriously injuring the observer, Sgt. J. B. Arthur. And on 8 December, pilot Lt. Robert S. Worthington died after his PW-9C crashed after engine failure.
A Keystone LB-5A of the 72nd Bombardment Squadron, my father's unit, suffered dual engine failure in 1928, and ditched in the sea. Sergeant Clinton Perry in the "meat can" was killed when the nose struck a reef. During 1928/9 there were more crashes in the remaining DH-4s and PW-9s, including a mid-air collision over Wheeler Field, both pilots bailing out and surviving. Amazingly, although there were a half dozen crashes during 1929, only two airmen were killed.
I came home from school on 14 May 1930 to find my mother in a panic, on the phone to Luke Field. There had been an inter-island flight to the Island of Hawai'i that day, the largest thus far attempted. Seventy-five men in sixteen planes, including two Keystones, had left Luke Field. My father was in one of the latter. My mother heard a news flash on radio station KGU, reporting that one of the Keystones had gone down in the Maui Channel. The commanding officer promised to phone my mother as soon as more information arrived; when he did, It was good news for us, but not for other army friends.
At 11:00 A.M. that day, the Keystone flown by Second Lieutenant Boyd Tallmidge had suddenly developed engine trouble and gone into a spin. My father, in the rear cockpit of the other Keystone, saw it fall, and counted four parachutes as crewmen bailed out. Tragically, Staff Sergeant John Becker's chute tangled with the tail surfaces of the spinning plane and he was dragged to his death as it crashed into the sea. Three "ducks" immediately landed in the choppy waters of the Maui Channel to rescue the downed airmen, but were unable to take off. According to my memory of the event, the navy finally salvaged the downed amphibians.
Between 1930 and 1936, there were at least thirty-nine crashes which resulted in the total destruction of the aircraft, and twenty fatalities. Most of them were caused by engine failures, several by collapse of the landing gear, others by an unexplained loss of control, and a few by mid-air collisions. Three of the latter involved two PW-9s, and one, two bombers. Most of the remaining biplanes were inspected and condemned during the following year (1937). I have a snapshot of the last Keystone in service at Luke Field. The last Keystone in service anywhere was still being flown in 1940, by the 2nd Observation Squadron at Nichols Field in the Phlippines. Long before, these biplanes had been replaced on the mainland by single-wing Boeing P-26s and B-18s. But, as Ron Dick comments in his American Eagles, the “Army's biplane fighters did project a glamorous image of military fIying."15 Those of us who remember the old days are often nostalgic for them, but mindful of the high price they exacted from the pioneers. They really earned their flying pay!
WHY SO MANY ACCIDENTS?
Brigadier General Billy Mitchell authorized a transcontinental race in 1919 to test the long distance capabilities of army aircraft and the effectiveness of their support services. Of seventy-four entries, fifty-two were DH-4s, seven SE-5s, five Fokkers, three LUSAC 11s, two Martin bombers, one a DH-9, one an Ansaldo SVA-5, one a Thomas-Morse MB-3, one a SPAD, and one a Bristol Fighter. Seven planes failed to reach the designated starting points; two pilots were killed trying. Forty-six planes finally took off from Roosevelt Field, Long Island on October 8, and fifteen from the Presidio at San Francisco. Out of the sixty-one entrants, twenty-six of the east-west group finished, and seven of the west to east starters. Seventeen of these finishers promptly took off again to return to their starting points. Five DH-4s, two SE-5s, and one Fokker succeeded in making the double crossing; all the rest failed.
A DH-4 flown by Lt. Belvin Maynard won the race, flying east to west, despite a forced landing because of a broken crankshaft which compelled him to change the engine. In the west-to-east race, an SE-5 flown by Maj. Carl "Tooey" Spatz led the pack. There were fifty-four accidents, seven more deaths, and two serious injuries during the contest.
Why? Neither the largely obsolete planes nor their pilots were up to the conditions encountered, such as rain, snow, ice, fog, and severe cold. Many planes got lost because of inadequate maps and the absence of radio communications. As noted in American Eagles, by Ron Dick, "Mechanical problems included engine failures, broken landing gear, splintered propellers, frozen water pumps, blown tires, leaking radiators, and damaged wings." Poorly-trained mechanics were also blamed by some. Mitchell used the disastrous contest to plead for more landing fields, reliable servicing facilities, communications, lights on airfields, navigation aids, and adequate meteorological information.
Major accidents in the Air Service for the twelve-month period between July 1920 and June 1921 totalled 330, and resulted in 69 deaths out of a total force of only some 900 aircrewmen. The Hawaiian experience of frequent accidents was therefore by no means atypical. 16
Ron Dick, American Eagles: A History of the United States Air Force, Charlottesburg, VA: Howell Press, 1997. Brian McAllister Linn, Guardians of Empire, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1997. Ted Darcy, "Army Aviation in Hawaii 1913-1941," self-published typescript, P.O. 1554, Kailua, HI 96734. (This is the only history of the United States Army Air Corps in Hawai'j during the years indicated.) Available on request from Hickam Air Force Base. William Addleman, "History of the United States Army in Hawaii 1849-1939," unpublished manuscript, 1939. (This is the only history of the United States Army in Hawaii during the years indicated. ) This chronology includes information concerning Air Corps units in Hawaii stationed at Luke and Wheeler Fields. Available on request from Archives of Hawai'i, Honolulu. 1. December 26, 1935.
2. January 24, 1936.
3. William H. Dorrance, Folt Kamehameha: the Story of the Harbor Defenses of Pearl Harbor, Shippensburg, PA: White Mane Publishing Company, 1993, 27.
4. Ted Darcy, Army Aviation in Hawaii, 1913-1941, Self-Published by the Author, Kaialua, Hawaii, 1991, 2.
5. Dorrance, 26.
6. Dorrance and Darcy disagree as to whether Geiger left the Islands as well. Darcy states that he did not; Dorrance says he left on leave.
7. Darcy, 3.
8. Dorrance says there were two R-6s and no N-9Cs; whereas Darcy lists one of each.
9. Peter M. Bowers, Classic Military Biplanes, New York, NY: Modern Aircraft Series, 1967, 47.
10. Darcy, 10.
11. Darcy, 11 .
12. Pigeons were carried by planes at the time for ground-to-air communications, since there were as yet no radios
13. Ron Dick, American Eagles, Charlottesville, VA: Howell Press, 1997, 83.
14. Darcy, 40-41.
15. Dick, American Eagles, 78.
16. Dick, American Eagles, 75.
A History of Coast Guard Aviation
Great War Aviation Photos
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Air Force Heritage
US Navy Historical Center
National Air and Space Museum
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