Evening Star Newspaper, January 17, 1932, Page 69

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D G, JANWARY 17 1932 31 During the Air Corps exercises at Mather Field, Sacra- mento, Calif., a swarm of thousands of honey bees seitled on the wing of one of the planes. Attacked by Angry Honeybees, Overcome by Carbon Mon- oxide, Upside Down and Un- able to Right Your Plane— BY JAMES NEVIN MILLER. ARING duels with death are commonplace in the lives of Amer- jcan Army and Navy flyers. Almost daily freak adventuics occur high up in the skies, where lives can be saved only through remarkable skill, unusual courage, quick thinking and the fickle favor of Lady Luck. And yet fatal accidents are — W hile driving crazily at the rate of 170 miles an hour, Licut. James S. Olive, jr., (right) rescued his pilot, Lieut. Philip D. Coates, after the latter had been overcome by monoxide gas, —JustaFew of the Dilemmas That Would Test the Nerve of an Iron Man, Until Lady Luck Intervenes. this death-defying maneuver the ship is pulled upward and over on its back as in the start of a loop. Instead of completing the loop, how- ever, the plane, from the upside down position, is then rolled over right side up. Capt. Blessley got his ship over on its back all right. But from then on things went “hay-wire,” the plane going mto an outside spin, which in aeronautical terms means that the pilot is on the outside of Capt. R. C. Blessley of the United States Army Air Corps was catapulted from his acrobatic plane like a stone the turn, centrifugal force tending to throw him away from the plane and against his safety belt. This fact is borne out by the manner whereby Capt. Blessley got away from the plane, for immediately upon unbuckling exceedingly rare! Most of these almost unbelievable adventures are deadly serious, but occasionally one happens that is strikingly funny. Take the case of & United States Army birdman who not long ago was mysteriously attacked by thousands of angry honeybees. The events of this queer near-tragedy occurred during recent Air Corps exXercises at Mather Field, Sacra- mento, Calif., when Uncle Sam’s “Red” and “Blue” armies of the air were fighting for mythical supremacy. When Lieut. S. J. Simonton went out to his plane he found that thousands of bees had. for some strange reascn, s2ttled on one of the lower wings. The wingtip was literally black with the wee stingers and a veritable curtain of them hung down =almost to the ground. What to do was the question. But a solu- tion was not long in forthcoming. Capt. L. A. Smith, commanding the 8th Attack Squadron, taxied his ship directly in front of the be- leaguered plane and, setting the brakes, gave the bees the benefit of a 180-mile-an-hour gale. The breeze from the whirling propeller scat- tered the bees all over Mather Field. OWEVER, the excitement was not over just yet. When Lieut. Simonton returned from his flight with the squadron some three hours later and taxied back to his parking place, the entire swarm of bees was on hand to greet him. A few seconds after the plane was in place all the insects had taken up their quarters again under the stabilizer on the tail of the ship. Now, Lieut. Simonton thought this was car- rying a joke too far. So he consulted straight- way with authorities, and after a weighty caucus it was decided to send to Sacramento for a bee expert. One Alf Erickson, reputed to know all the bees in Sacramento by their first names, volunteered his services. According to an official Army writer who reported this important matter, the bees fol- lowed him back to Sacramento in a quite docile manner, and the queen bee herself blushed with embarrassment at the proper scolding Alf delivered to her. “No harm was done except that Lieut. Si- monton’s name was immediately changed to ‘Honeyboy," by which pseudonym the United States Air Corps will henceforth know him. Why the bees singled out this particular plane for their concerted attack no one seems to know, but the chances are that some wag, or a ‘spy’ in the employ of the ‘Red’ army, con- ceived the idea of putting one of the planes out of the running by smearing honey or mo- lasses on the wing.” Lieut. P. L. Baker, U. S. N, recently had two freak thrills during one never-to-be-forgotten flight while engaged in bombing tests from a fighting plane. At 5,000 feet he went into a vertical dive, when suddenly a large mass of red-hot gasoline struck him full in the face. Whereupon the battle for life began in deadly earnest. Sz2conds later a terrific explo- sion rocked the cockpit, followed by a sizable blaze. There was cnly one thing for Lieut. Baker to do and he did it. He explains: “I went over the side head first, then found the ripcord and pulled it. The chute functioned perfectly.” Noting that he now was over water, the fiyer, when he got within a couple of hundred feet of the surface, unstrapped his chute har- ness and inflated his rubber life jacket. But soon he found, to his alarm, that his shoulders were caught in the chute harness. It was while attempting to disengage himself that the officer had his second, and prob- ably his biggest, thrill of the day. Unwittingly he tipped over his parachute seat, with the result that from a height of at least 100 feet he found himself diving head first at tremen- dous speed toward the water. During this unscheduled stunt he turned over twice, but nevertheless hit the water in a perfect dive! Fortunately, immediate rescue was at hand in the form of a destroyer towing the target at which Lieut. Baker had been aiming a few moments earlier during bombing practice. N exceedingly strange instance of an air- plane pilot b2ing overcome by carbon monoxide poisoning during flight culminated in some thrilling experiences for his compan- ion in his efforts to take over the controls of the plane to avert death for both men. Two student officers of the aerial photog- raphy class of the Air Corps Technical School, Chanute Field, Rantoul, Ill., were taking photos at an altitude of 12,000 feet over Chicago when the photographer sensed that the plane sud- denly went into a steep dive. Upon going for- ward to confer with the pilot regarding the unusual behavior of the plane, the photog- rapher, Lieut. James S. Olive, jr, found his companion, Lieut. Philip D- Coates, in an un- conscious condition. He had fallen forward in his seat, his shoulders pressing the control stick forward, with the result that the plane was diving crazily at a speed of about 170 miles an hour! Vigorously shaking the pilot in an endeavor to arouse him from his stupor and finding this vain, Lieut. Olive grasped Lieut. Coates and held his unconscious form back into the seat, reaching forward with his right hand while standing behind the seat. Straining on the control stick, the photographer brought the plane back to a fairly reasonable speed, but in so doing lost about 3,000 feet of altitude over Chicago, and was heading toward Lake Michigan. Unfortunately, it was impossible for Lieut. from a small boy’s slingshot. Olive to reach the rudder bar so as to effect a change in the plane’s direction. He tried to remove Lieut. Coates from the seat, but the lat- ter’s feet were extended and hooked over the rudder bar, which prevented Lieut. Olive from reaching it. Every time Lieut. Olive released his hold on the pilot, Lieut. Coates would slump against the control stick. And each time the photographer hauled the pilot back and re- leased his own hold on the stick, the plane would go into a sharp zoom. Finally, through almost superhuman effort, Lieut. Olive managed to pull back the rear section of the pilot’s seat and place Lieut. Coates in a prone position. Even tten, being unable to reach the rudder, he was forced to straddle his companion’s prostrate form, turn- ing and flying the plane toward Chanute Field at 6,000 feet altitude with the aid of the stick only, standing in this awkward position and, in addition, holding Lieut. Coates’ bead in his other hand near an open air vent. This lasted about 45 minutes, when Lieut. Coates began to Yevive. After Lieut. Coates became fairly rational he tried to fly the ship, but failed to regain suffi- cient consciousness or sense of co-ordination. Lieut. Olive removed him from the pilot’s seat as soon as enough strength had returned to accomplish this and placed him in the rear compartment of the plane, where he suffered acute nausea. with the controls at his command, Lieut. Olive flcw the ship to Chanute Fleld and landed. At this time Lieut. Coates had regained most of his normal faculties, and, while suffering tremors and nausea, was able to talk and walk to the hospital, where he was cared for by the flight surgeon. UPON investigation, it was found that Lieut. Coates had suffered a serious attack of carbon monoxide poisoning, due to an unusual break in the exhaust line leading through a heater jacket, allowing exhaust gases to fill the interior of the plane immediately around the pilot. The photographer was not affected by the fumes, since he had been taking photos through an opening in the floor of the plane and had been breathing only fresh air. Probably acrobatic flyers have more thrills than those in any other branch of the service. Capt. R. C. Blessley, Air Corps, while practic- ing acrobatic maneuvers 18 miles west of Sel- fridge Field, Mich., several weeks ago, found himself unable to bring his plane out of an inverted, or upside down, spin. He was lead- ing his squadron in formation practice, pre- paring for Air Corps maneuvers on the East Coast, and was performing what is known as the Immelmann, or 180-degree, turn. During his safety belt, which by the way proved no easy thing to do, he was lit- erally catapulted out of the craft. Indeed, he was thrown out of the ship like a pellet from a small boy’s slingshot. Count- ing three, Capt. Blessley released his safety belt, causing the silken folds of his chute to billow out from behind him and let him gently down upon the roof of a bern, from which perch he promptly fell off, causing no more damage than a slightly sprained ankle. Not more than 100 yards distant he could see the once graceful single-seater pursuit plane, now reduced to a piece of junk. BUT if it’s sheer drama you like, then imagine yourself in the place of Miss Rosalie Gor- don, former mascol of the Air Corps flying field at Brooks Field, Tex., who jumped from a plane at a height of 4,000 feet to find her chute held fast by shrunken ropes which caused her body to dangle helplessly in the air held only by a small rope the size of an electric light cord. For more than half an hour Miss Gordon dangled in this perilous position, during which time no fewer than 13 planes tried to come to her aid. But let Miss Gordon, now Mrs. Fred Lund, tell her own thrilling story: “I was mascot of the 36th Division, Air Service, and in an exhibition to be given I offered to do a parachute jump. I had been wing-walking several years, but this was to be my first jump. Just before I went up it rained heavily, causing the ropes holding the ring of the parachute to shrink so that the ring could not release the bag. “Clyde Pangborn was piloting the plane when I went up, and Capt. Milton Girton sat in the cockpit with me when I made the jump. When the plane had ascended to a height of a little more than 4,000 feet the signal was given and I jumped. It was pouring rain. “After one terrible moment I realized that my chute hadn't opened. I was possessed of panic for a few minutes. This was replaced by the realization that I must do all possible to save my life. Meantime, Capt. Girton leaned over and began hauling up the rope. But his strength proved inadequate and he was forced to release the rcpe, and I dropped down again, 11 THEN Pilot Pangborn dived for the ground and took me across the fleld about 18 feet from the ground to appeal for help. Soon 13 planes in all, one carrying Freddie Lund, my teacher (and now my husband), took to the air in' the attempt to rescue me. All these ships circled about me, but it seemed there was nothing they could do, Lieut. Strickland, ome Continued on Tensh Page