The morning of May 15, 1918 birthed a milestone in the progress of aviation not only in the United States, but across the world. For the first time ever, mail was being flown on a regularly scheduled route which began in Washington, D.C. and ended in New York with one stop in Pennsylvania. Although there were three different machines at the three different airfields, the pilot carrying the day’s first load of mail, to include one letter autographed by president Woodrow Wilson that was to be auctioned later, was U.S. Army pilot Lt. George Boyle and his ship was a Hispano-Suiza powered Curtiss Jenny. At the helm of this entire groundbreaking operation was Captain Benjamin Lipsner, the first superintendent of the aerial mail service for the United States post office. Although Lt. Boyle took off in the wrong direction that fateful day and ended up flying south instead of north towards Pennsylvania, Captain Lipsner’s dreams of a regularly scheduled aerial mail service came to life before the eyes of the entire world. With a vigorous passion for aeronautics and an equally impressive passion for leadership, Ben Lipsner led the post office’s famous air mail service to success and popularity and secured a concrete spot in American legend with his group of hand-selected pilots flying modified Curtiss Jennys and the specialized Standard JR-1B mail planes. Not only this, but Captain Lipsner’s new aerial mail service would end up paving the way for scheduled airline flying and commercial aviation as a whole with these roots still prominent in today’s flying world. In this book, Benjamin Lipsner discusses how his dreams of a scheduled aerial service came to fruition, his relationship with the Army and post office, the interactions and reactions with his pilots, their flying adventures, his resignation from the post office, and the state of affairs in commercial aviation at the time. Jennys to Jets serves as a wonderful source for the individual looking to research the history of mail flying, the airlines, and early aviation as a whole.

Flying the mail for the post office was not an idea new to officials in America. As early as the 1800s the idea of carrying mail had escaped the enterprising minds of aeronauts and for the first time mail was taken airborne in a balloon piloted by Richard Clayton on the 4th of July, 1835. Carrying the mail in a lighter-than-air craft was performed once again on August 17, 1859 when John Wise and John LaMountain took off in their balloon “Jupiter” from Lafayette, Indiana. These two flights on American soil gave the U.S. government the impetus they needed to allocate resources to this grand adventure and almost half a century after Jupiter’s ascent, in June of 1910, Representative Morris Sheppard introduced the first airmail bill to congress which authorized the Postmaster General to investigate the possibilities of flying the mail over a given route. As can be read in this book, it was about this time in history that Ben Lipsner found himself a new mechanical engineer, graduating from the Armour Institute in 1905 with a specific fascination with the intricacies of flying machines. Although Captain Lipsner worked as a driving instructor for the National Motor Vehicle Company, which incidentally lead him to teach pilot Ed Gardner how to drive the speedy race cars before he was hired as a pilot for the post office, his interests in flying machines never waned and he found himself taking more adventures to the local airfield until finally he developed a unique relationship with the airport staff that allowed him to assist in maintenance on the local flyers’ machines. It was this initial contact with the earliest flying machines and his experience at a multitude of engineering firms that led Lipsner to believe that one day, possibly, flying machines might be able to carry goods from one point to another. 

As he explains in the book, it was in Washington D.C. that Lipsner discovered his vision of using aircraft for commercial purposes could become reality. One of the firms Lipsner found employment with in the prewar years through his commissioning in the Army was the Texas Oil Company, with his talents being utilized to find a replacement for castor oil which was used ubiquitously in aircraft engines of the day. The solution was discovered with his fellow engineer Captain O.J. Day after the pair were invited to Washington to further research probable solutions. Being around aviation once again, the people in charge of it, Lipsner realized he needed to capitalize on this time and voice his idea soon if it were to become reality. To make the obsession worse, Lipsner also discovered that in 1916 $100,000 was appropriated by congress for experimentation in the way of carrying the mail by air and if not used by July 1, 1918, it would no longer be available. This seemed like the final piece of the puzzle with Captain Lipsner stating “[George] Connor, who later became a minister of the Gospel and for the past fifteen years has had a parsonage in a community near Washington, D.C., listened to some of the details I had in mind. When I finished, he said, “You mean you can actually develop a system showing the actual costs of operation?” When I assured him that I could, he thought about it a moment, then left his desk. He returned shortly. “There’s a man who’d like to hear some of your ideas,” he said. “Come this way.” We went back to an office marked “Second Assistant Postmaster General,” and I was introduced to Otto Praeger.” (Lipsner, The Airmail: Jennys to Jets p. 63) This meeting with Otto Praeger led to more constructive and persuasive discussions and so it was that the United States’ air mail service was beginning to find footing.

One aspect that I found to be particularly striking while reading this book was how much the author included the reader in his decision making processes, almost as if he let you read his personal diary at the time of certain happenings. Although the mail was flown by Army aviators during the first month of the new service’s existence, civilian air mail pilots were hand-picked and hired by Lipsner himself at a time that coincided with his resignation from the Army and subsequent full-time employment with the post office. As the new air mail service was already under intense scrutiny from almost every external party, Lipsner had lofty requirements for his pilot candidates to ensure no ammunition was given to the naysayers and, foremost, that the job of flying the mail was done safely and successfully. Captain Lipsner’s ability to place external stressors aside and address the situation in a straightforward manner was known throughout the small community of aerial mail employees, namely the pilots, which appears to be another reason why they enjoyed his company so much as a leader. This characteristic was clearly demonstrated when Lipsner was in the process of opening the New York to Chicago route and declared that Max Miller, the first civilian air mail pilot, and his good friend Ed Gardner would be the first individuals to fly the experimental route on September 5, 1918. The question of who would get there first was a point of contention for the two friends and when Gardner learned that Max would launch first, he made his frustrations apparent to his boss and friend. Lipsner diffused the situation by flipping a coin to determine who would go first after settling the two men down and, as if the coin was in on the ordeal, favored Max’s guess and once again it was decided that he would fly first. The two apologized for their insults and once again, Lipsner’s diplomacy saved the mission and possibly a friendship.

This was just one more example of Lipsner’s fine leadership as the first superintendent of the U.S. Post Office’s aerial mail service. From the first day of service on May 15, 1918 to Lipsner’s resignation just 111 days later on December 6, 1918, his pilots demonstrated supreme faith in their leader and his ability to make decisions for the betterment of the service and their lives as pilots. There were many examples of this confidence being displayed in the book such as when Lipsner believed in and convinced Eddie Gardner to fly the mail back from Chicago to New York in one day, a grand feat which he actually accomplished. But no greater proof of this exists, in my opinion, than the day after Lipsner’s resignation when pilot Max Miller faithfully turned in his resignation as well, citing reasons parallel with Lipsner’s. Miller’s resignation letter speaks for all the air mail pilots when he states “…I am frank to state that I do not feel confident in the outcome of a plan different from one which is now being successfully operated; and knowing full well Captain Lipsner’s capabilities of directing the Aerial Mail Service to a successful conclusion to date, therefore it is obvious that I use my best judgement and take the stand of handing herewith my resignation.” Soon after this series of unfortunate events, air mail pilots went on the first pilot strike in history and refused to fly the mail under their new leadership following the Captain’s departure. Lipsner’s fine leadership abilities again showed themselves as he responded to the strikers: “…I immediately called the boys together and told them that such a move would do more harm than good, and that I still believed in the service, though I disagreed with the methods used in running it. These arguments didn’t settle their tempers very much, and it was only when I pointed out that if they continued the strike, I could be cited for preventing the delivery of mail, that they went back to work.” (Lipsner, The Airmail: Jennys to Jets p. 186) The pilot’s faith in the abilities of the first superintendent of the aerial mail service was more obvious than ever with that collective decision to strike without him as their leader and their willingness to place their jobs on the line to support his decision. This single moment speaks volumes about the man as a leader, officer, businessman, and person. More evidence for this can be found on almost every page of this fantastic read.

In the later chapters of The Airmail: Jennys to Jets, Lipsner address the future of commercial aviation and what his creation had adapted itself into at the time of the book’s publication. Being the man who can claim he kindled the everlasting flame of commercial aviation itself, Lipsner provides the reader with insight into what he thought future generations could expect out of mail and passenger carrying aircraft. One might forget how incredible it is that just 30 years after Lt. Boyle carried the mail in his Curtiss Jenny, a trip that took three hours and twenty minutes, a United States Air Force pilot flew the same route in a supersonic Republic F-84 fighter jet… in just twenty-seven minutes. Yes, one might forget that, but Benjamin Lipsner will quickly remind you of the innumerable impressive feats of mail-carrying pilots. With the onset of jet-propelled aircraft taking over the skies then mostly dominated by Lockheed Constellations, Boeing 337s, and Douglas DC-6s, the man who created commercial aviation still emphasized how critical it was that the American public made a push to conquer the skies over the 50 states and, for that matter, the world. It is impossible to express in words the progress made from 1918 to 1951 in regard to commercial flying, but Lipsner still pushed for his creation to strive for perfection, saying “Now is the proper time to exploit the uses of this air ocean, to gain from it all the things it has to offer. Airliners sailing in this vast ocean offer tremendous advantages over their surface competitors, yet we are slow to accept these advantages. We remain content with obsolete forms of transportation when with very little effort we can reap the harvest of good things which air transportation offers.” (Lipsner, The Airmail: Jennys to Jets p. 271) Commercial aviation was seemingly at its peak; a fine, classy experience where people flew in dress clothing and dined on properly cooked meals while cruising at an altitude almost five miles into the troposphere. Yet Lipsner was not satisfied, and in his charismatic way pushed individuals and companies alike to accomplish even greater things in a world still recovering from war and terror.

Captain Benjamin Lipsner, in the writing of this book, does a fantastic job of explaining his thought processes while trying to turn his dream of commercial flying into reality. His emotions during the entirety of his tenure were made very apparent in the style of his writing and I found it quite easy to connect on an emotional level while reading. Benjamin Lipsner offered a very inviting look into his reality of initiating the future of commercial aviation on a worldwide scale and provided background on numerous historical events in aviation with a great deal of detail. Interactions with air mail pilots, top Army and post office office officials, airline operators of the 20s and 30s, and a multitude of discussions on the future of commercial flying are all included in this propitious historical text. It is my opinion as an aviation enthusiast and historian that The Airmail: Jennies to Jets deserves a spot on the bookshelf of all individuals interested in aviation history and serves as a reliable, and enjoyable, source for telling the story of one of the most fascinating industries to exist today. My library has only benefitted from this book belonging to it and I believe yours will to.

Sources: Benjamin Lipsner. The Airmail: Jennies to Jets. Wilcox & Follett Company, 1951.

One of the books on my shelf that I was most excited to read, The Air Devils delivered on all fronts regarding stunt aviation’s origins and I was left almost unwilling to close the pages upon finishing the book. Covering topics that range from the rise of flying lighter-than-air craft at a time when American independence was just gained to diamond formations of gleaming F-86s dancing over European skies, this book is a must-have for any aviation historian or enthusiast, professional or otherwise. The Air Devils serves as a key reference for the widely known and some unfortunately unknown names in the barnstorming, stunt flying, movie flying, and ballooning arenas; all of which are immeasurably important to the history of powered flight. It is our job as pilots to learn, understand, and remember this history to not only show appreciation for their sacrifices and roles in our lives but to spread their almost mystical wisdom into the flying world of today. This book will undeniably help whoever reads it achieve these goals.

As an enthusiast of early aviation, I had many takeaways from this book with the first being a reminder of just how costly it could have been to climb into a machine of the air and take it aloft into another dimension still mostly unfamiliar to the terrestrial man. The relative safety of aviating is something taken for granted these days but in the early years of pioneering, every flight could mean tragedy. Almost every aviator is familiar with the madness of those unforgiving years of trial and error but Don Dwiggins does an excellent job of highlighting this fact with detailed stories that drag the reader to the edge of their seat. A premium example of this is the story of Lincoln Beachey’s final flight in an experimental monoplane he built himself. After the complete story of this birdman’s career, Dwiggins describes his final moments: “He sucked the stick back harder and harder, watching the world rush up to strike him dead. The Beachey Special shuddered, and something broke. Linc looked left; the wing had torn away…. The crowd rushed forward, across the grass field, to the water’s edge, and there it stopped. The waves had subsided: beneath them, the worlds’s greatest stunt flyer was dead, trapped in the tangled wreckage…” (Dwiggins, The Air Devils, p.102). In the blink of an eye, the world lost one of it’s leading aviators due to structural failure. This story is only one of the many shocking accounts included in this book that shows how incredibly dangerous the evolving years of heavier-than-air flying were.

Another lesson that is quite discernible in this book which is synonymous with my previous point is just how much these airmen were willing to sacrifice, or lay on the line if you will, to sharpen their flying skills as fine as obsidian and for the betterment of aviation as a whole. One must remember that for so long, aviation was a widely unregulated business and lots of unnecessary tragedies were the result of this fault. Throughout this book you will read the most unbelievable stories of aviating that ever took place to include flying Curtiss Jennys off city rooftops, climbing onto fabric wings while blindfolded and thousands of feet in the air (only to climb onto another airplane while still blindfolded…), landing biplanes on moving trains, taking off from tennis courts while flying across a continent, and so many others that I frustratingly cannot fit in this article. One cannot help but to read these incredible adventures and compare them to what we view as extreme and how general aviation airplanes are used today. These men and women flew their aircraft from the top of the airspeed indicator, which probably didn’t even work, to the last decimal of their critical angle of attack and did it all as one with their machine. These courageous pilots gave us footsteps to follow in this regard and due to their commitment to flying, the aviation safety standards have multiplied exponentially since those horrifically deadly years. Although this is true I could not help but to read about these magnificent individuals and think of the artificial drama that is created in airplanes today for phone cameras and social media views, however that is a topic for another day.

As I hinted to earlier, there is no shortage of heroic stories from names such as Frank Clarke, Paul Mantz, Mort Bach, Doug Davis, Mabel Cody, Frank Tallman, and so many other aviators and flying circuses. My final takeaway, that I shall mention here, is how Dwiggins emphasizes the fearlessness of these individuals when in the cockpit of their flying machines. Balloonatics are not to be left out of this most honorable list, and the author includes a multitude of jaw-dropping, heart-pounding stories about these now mostly unknown figures. One such story recounts how in 1862, Henry Tracey Coxwell and James Glashier ascended in their gas bag from Wolverhampton, England on a purely scientific mission to probe the stratosphere. Without giving too much of the book away, the men fought for their lives nearly eight miles high while battling freezing temperatures and punishing fits of hypoxia. Pulling themselves out of unconsciousness and solving emergency after emergency with their craft, the two men struggled to return to that earth where man had struggled to join those clouds in the sky for so long. In a miraculous turn of events, they eventually did land with an astonishing feat under their belt-reaching an altitude of 39,000 feet! Not only should these names and their associated fearlessness go down in the books of history forever, they shall be remembered by all in the advancement of aeronautical science and serve as an example of dedication and dauntlessness to aviators everywhere.

To conclude this article, I must say I have nothing but stellar things to say about Don Dwiggins’ The Air Devils. This book is one that I cannot recommend enough for both the professional and the amateur. Its message, and why I think it belongs in any early aviation enthusiasts library, is that it serves as a key reference for both popular and unknown names in the early years of flying and brings to light their contributions to aviation which may go unnoticed otherwise. Not only this, but this book may remind today’s flyers that they should take time to remember their roots and push themselves to be the best pilot they can be, in good conscience, and enjoy flying for the sake of flying. Knowing the history of those pioneering years opens ones eyes to the sacrifices our forefathers made, how dangerous it was to fly, and how they regularly sharpened their skill and prowess in the air despite the danger.

Sources: Don Dwiggins. The Air Devils. J. B. Lippincott Company, 1966.

With no ILS needles to guide them to the ground through clouds, an engine and airframe crippled by enemy fire, and suffering from the effects of low temperatures at high altitudes, many of today’s pilots could learn numerous lessons from these steel men piloting wooden machines during the Great War and the years following. Wing Commander Crundall’s memoirs of flying for the Royal Naval Air Service and Royal Air Force from 1916 to 1919 serves as an excellent reminder of the grim realities these brave airmen faced on a daily basis. With a writing frequency akin to a journal, the author records events happening at the squadron, getting into mischief with his pals, details of his deadly missions, life while on leave, and the breakneck speeds of aerial scraps between friend and foe at ten thousand feet above terra firma. It is my opinion that this book will surely benefit the reader who purchases it, whether the aviation oriented or history enthused, and the shelf on which it is displayed due to its gripping contents and eye-catching cover art.

Although authored rather unimaginatively, this book is saturated with hardly believable stories about fighting German airmen over the western front and bringing severely crippled Sopwith machines back over the lines to friendly territory. One thing I noticed was how similarly the book was written compared to I Chose the Sky in that it is very matter of fact- The author describes the aforementioned scenes with little extra detail or emotion, just as “Tich” Rochford did in his famous memoirs. There are still numerous interesting takeaways from this book for any who read it and I am exceedingly glad to have it on my shelf for these reasons. One of these takeaways is the interesting fact that the author flew and wrote much about flying the famous Sopwith Triplane with 8 Naval, the squadron popular for its “black flight” led by twelve-time ace Raymond Collishaw. Although the book is mainly centered around details of his days and less about the qualities of the machines he flew, he briefly describes the triplane’s flying characteristics, its performance in aerial fights, and how only one gun limited their capabilities in fights compared to the German machines they were competing against. In much the same manner the author writes about the squadron’s transition to the Sopwith Camel and little is described about its infamous handling qualities with more attention being focused on the squadron’s daily activities and missions. A perfect example of his writing style being: “There are rumors that the squadron is to exchange its Sopwith Triplanes for Sopwith Camels. Sopwith Camels are biplanes. They, like Triplanes, are fitted with 130 hp Clerget rotary engines but Camels have two Vickers machines guns firing through the propeller as against the one in Triplanes.” (Wing Commander E.D. Crundall. Fighter Pilot on the Western Front, 1975.)

Between spells at the front, Crundall served as a flying instructor in England and unfortunately hardly anything is written about the actual instruction of students but rather many pages of his taking machines on cross country trips to visit friends and family. I did not find this portion of the book to be uninteresting however, as the author included many stories regarding engine failures and deadstick landings into minute fields in this section of the book. This of course only reinforced my belief that many pilots of today lack the airmanship and composure to handle similar emergencies, at least without making a production out of their ordeal for everyone to see. Apart from the incessant battle flying done in such iconic machines, another fascinating aspect to this book is the inclusion of flying over France and Germany after the war’s end. I have found it rather rare to gather extensive literature on this period of time from a pilot’s perspective and Wing Commander Crundall more than delivered on this topic, providing the reader with much insight into the actions of a fighter squadron months after the armistice. A truly spectacular example of this is how the author quite literally OWNED a Fokker DVII that was dormant in a hangar taken over by the squadron following November 11, 1918. The German fighter was fixed and flown by Crundall for pleasure and to different aerodromes as the occupation was advancing which is a remarkable fact itself. Details of this peculiar happening are described in the author’s later chapters as well, albeit quite concise.

This book, although written in a very matter of fact manner, provides the reader with a tremendous insight into the daily actions and operations of a fighting squadron stationed on the western front during the second half of the First World War to the beginning of 1919. Wing Commander Crundall recalls everything between fighting Germans over the trenches, life with fellow fighter pilots in an active squadron while on the ground, flying aeroplanes popularized in today’s aviation world such as the Triplane and Camel, landing aeroplanes after suffering tremendous bodily injury, landing aeroplanes that are in mechanical shambles in fields that can hardly be labelled as tennis courts, and even flying battle planes during the months following the armistice. Notwithstanding the book’s lack of emotional depth, it is my opinion that it will only benefit the reader who adds it to their shelf, whether they are the professional historian or amateur aviation enthusiast. Fighter Pilot on the Western Front is an aviation classic that should be read by anyone looking to further their understanding of or passion for the First World War aviator stationed on the western front during that momentous conflict.

Sources:

Wing Commander E.D. Crundall. Fighter Pilot on the Western Front, 1975.

Another book that has remained unread on my shelf for far too long is this fabulous piece of literature, Double-Decker C.666 by Georg Wilhelm Haupt-Heydemarck. As much attention and focus is paid to the allied participation in the air war over Europe during 1914-1918, it is a welcome change of pace to read a realistic memoir from the other side of the lines. Haupt-Heydemarck’s other works include Flying Section 17 and War Flying in Macedonia, the latter being not yet in the collection (yet!) but the former having already been read by myself. Having read both of these books by the imaginative German observer, I can tell you with unquestionable certainty that I believe he is a masterful storyteller and linguistic genius and I am sure you will come to the same conclusion after reading his works. As pilots, we can learn numerous lessons from these aviators on how to conduct ourselves in the cockpit, handle emergencies with reasonable temper, and appreciate the finer things that make aviation what it is. Wires howling in the wind, the vibration of the oily cylinders felt through the stick and rudder pedals, reflection of the sun seen in the vibrating fabric, and the slipstream playing at your leather helmet.

The author being an aerial observer in the first half of the First World War, he tells wonderful stories of flying against the French with his beloved pilot, “Take” Engmann, over the western front. There is no shortage (207 pages to be exact!) of gripping tales in this page turner, with palm-perspiring dogfights against French Nieuports, battling temperatures that reached below thirty degrees, bombing enemy positions in the early morning hours, and settling nerves during unrelenting “archie” barrages at altitudes surpassing ten thousand feet. All of these situations and more are written in unique detail that place the reader directly in the cockpit with the author, with hands seemingly on the author’s machine gun or his aerial camera to snap the ever important photographs of the ground behind enemy lines. As noted earlier, Georg Wilhelm Haupt-Heydemarck has a special talent for authoring books in this manner which can be noticed in his other book on flying over the western front, Flying Section 17. A prime example of this detail can be examined as he explains the operation of his camera over a French target: “I scan the aerodrome again through my glasses and discover that there are six hangars. Formerly there were only four; that means reinforcements. Quickly I extract the camera from its rack. Everything is ready-withdraw the shutter from its plate-grip the handle with the left hand-finger of right hand on the release-press camera firmly against my chest-focus objective-click!-photo taken-change plates-rewind focal plane-put camera back-job done.” (Haupt Heydemarck. Double-Decker C.666. John Hamilton Ltd., n.d.) This level of description is not spared on each page and in more than a few cases there are photographs included to show exactly what he is talking about in that moment.

This book has much to offer to both the academic and the passionate enthusiast due to its remarkably precise detail regarding all aspects of their missions from before takeoff to after landing. Things such as the mission brief, debrief, weather, squadron atmosphere, flying clothing and more are all mentioned in this gripping memoir. It was very neat and rather rare to read about the relationship between the pilot and observer in the cockpit of a German two-seater as well, an interesting note being the pilot is typically in the ranks instead of the observer like in the Royal Flying Corps/Royal Air Force. Heydemarck demonstrates this relationship in every chapter of the book as he brings the reader along each mission with the resulting effect on the reader being an inability to put down the book or not turn the page. Even down to the human characteristics of how his pilot celebrates a successful bomb drop or escape from enemy aeroplanes is put into words.

There is no doubt that this piece of First World War aviation literature would make a fantastic addition to the library of the war historian or pilot of any kind and I give it the highest praise. It has seemingly endless exciting stories that would appeal to anyone who picked it up and no shortage of lovely details for the reader to enjoy. Not only can the academic use it for an accurate source for their own research, but the pilot readers can gain a vast appreciation for the aviators’ shoulders on which we modern pilots stand and perhaps carry that legacy into the cockpit today.

I just recently finished “I Chose the Sky” by Leonard “Tich” Rochford, an account of his time in the Royal Naval Air Service and Royal Air Force during The Great War. I was very much looking forward to this piece as there aren’t many RNAS pilot memoirs in existence, at least compared to Royal Flying Corps pieces, and it didn’t disappoint. At 224 pages, this book serves as a very good resource for gaining insight into the Royal Naval Air Service’s contribution to The Great War and gives the reader an understanding of the life in a fighter squadron at the front lines. From the beginning of the book to the end, Tich writes each page as if he was talking to a friend which made the book even more enjoyable to read. He begins the book with his early childhood and how his interest in aviation developed, so when the war began he “chose the sky” instead of the infamously unglamorous war on the surface. His tales of flight school in 1916 followed with detail on how the entire course for pupils was organized and stories of his flying adventures while not at a fighter squadron. Soon that dream came true, and he was posted to 3 Naval Squadron in 1917 which was then attached to the Army for fighting duties alongside the Royal Flying Corps.

Here begins his life as a combat pilot in the First World War. As briefly mentioned earlier, Rochford’s writing style is that of a friendly correspondence and I would further describe the rest of the chapters as a sort of ‘tour of the logbook’. He writes of his fights but in a way that is not as creatively descriptive one might find in other memoirs. His scraps and stories are written in a very matter-of-fact way, without the imaginative detail that one might find in other memoirs written of the air war. An example of this being “In the afternoon of 1st October Hayne and myself accompanied Beamish on the Fleet Protective Patrol. Beamish developed engine trouble and returned to Bray Dunes but Hayne and myself carried on the patrol. When over the sea off Nieuport we saw a two-seater DFW flying at 7,000 feet about three miles off the coast. We attacked and drove him down to 1,500 feet over Westende but unfortunately we both had gun jams and he was able to continue diving away from us inland. The observer was probably killed or wounded as he had suddenly ceased firing at us during the chase. For the next ten days we had very bad weather and flying was impossible, but during the morning of the 11th we escorted DH4’s to bomb Bruges Docks. We flew at 17,000 feet and the cold was intense.” (Leonard “Tich” Rochford. I Chose the Sky. William Kimber & Co., 1977. p.114) Almost the entire book is written in this manner, but I found it quite enjoyable because I felt like I was reading his own logbook as I toured through the pages; one can tell he had his logbook in front of him during the writing process. Besides the wonderful flying stories and tour of his logbook, Rochford includes the reader in each move of the squadron to different aerodromes and tells fun stories of the officer’s time in the mess with his fellow pilots. As the war became mobile and the Army required squadrons to constantly move aerodromes, the RFC and RNAS amalgamated to become the Royal Air Force, which Rochford briefly covers in this book. Continuing a theme I’ve seen in multiple books written by First World War aviators, this combining of forces is only hardly mentioned because war flying was war flying to them; in the morning they still had to fly combat missions! Rochford’s book is no different, and not much is discussed regarding the formation of the RAF on April 1st 1918.

There is no doubt that this book would make a wonderful addition to the First World War or aviation enthusiast’s library as it contains lots of wonderful material for each reader. With an overwhelming majority of the WWI aviation memoirs being from pilots of the Royal Flying Corps, it is a neat touch to read about the Royal Naval Air Service’s war from 1917 to 1918. I believe and hope that you will hold the same opinion if you decide to read this fantastic piece of Great War literature.

Just a few days ago I finished the biography of a (unfortunately) relatively unknown aviation legend named E.M. “Matty” Laird. Authored by his daughter, Joan Laird Post, the book explores areas mostly unknown in Matty’s life such as insight into how he named his famous airplanes and the context for his business adventures. Joan Laird Post did a fabulous job covering all aspects of Matty’s illustrious life and career and I found myself feeling as if I knew Matty personally as the story read on, even becoming a bit emotional when I closed the book after finishing the last page. Matty Laird’s legacy lives on through the numerous modern aircraft manufacturers of today and through a few replica aircraft of his construction on display at certain museums, namely the rare Baby Biplane at the Sun N’ Fun museum in Lakeland, Florida. 

Not much is found on this book regarding a synopsis of sorts, apart from basic seller descriptions and purchase reviews that are no more than a few sentences.  Given this lack of detail, I didn’t quite know what to expect when the book arrived in the mail and I cracked open the cover for the first time and began reading. I was immediately and pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable it was to read and knew it was going to be a staple piece in the Early Days Biplanes library. Joan Laird Post did a wonderful job explaining Matty Laird’s significance to aviation to both a layman who knows not much about airplanes and the expert aviation historian. 

After a beautiful preface by the author and a foreword by EAA founder Paul Poberezny, the book begins with a lovely two-paged chapter titled “One Final Dream” about Joan Laird Post’s participation in the unveiling of the Laird Baby Biplane at the Sun N’ Fun museum in Lakeland, Florida. This chapter lays a foundation for the reader to build upon while reading the rest of the book due to the author’s wonderful job explaining the importance of the Baby Biplane, the event itself, and how emotional it was for everyone involved. The story of Matty’s life then begins, starting with his youth experiences in Chicago and how his interest in aviation developed after watching a Wright Flyer fly outside the bank where he worked. An interesting fact I didn’t know about Matty Laird is that his education never surpassed the 8th grade level! His career as a pilot and aircraft designer was already remarkable but that is quite the feat itself. 

With the perfect amount of detail over twenty expertly written chapters, the story of the rest of his life is written and offers excellent insight into his barnstorming days, the relationships he developed along the way (with names such as Buck Weaver, Speed Holman, Katherine Stinson, Eddie Stinson, Majorie Stinson, Jimmy Doolittle, Billy Burke, Clyde Cessna, Walter Beech, Lloyd Stearman), the designing of his famous ships, the onset of air mail, his hesitation with participating in air racing, the business adventures and traveling as his designs became more popular amongst pilots, and even how his machines formed the foundation of American commercial aviation. As can be read in this book, the Laird Swallow was a three-place biplane that was generally regarded as the aircraft that built America’s commercial aviation industry, but ask any given airline pilot if they knew that fact and the overwhelming majority would sadly admit to ignorance.

It is my opinion that this book will not only correct that issue if in the library of just a few airline pilots, but should be in the library of every person that is passionate about aviation and its history. The story of the shy, motivated, keen Matty Laird and his contribution to aviation raises the question of where American aviation would be today if it weren’t for his extensive efforts to design elegant and purposeful flying machines for the country. Behind some of the most famous aircraft and airlines of today is a man of significance mostly unknown by the flying public today, but should be remembered by all who venture in the blue infinity for either recreation or travel. Joan Post Laird does a fabulous and engaging job telling the story of her father and ensuring all who choose to read Shoestrings to the Stars understand the importance of her father’s existence. I cannot recommend this piece of literature enough and will suggest that it makes a home in the library of anyone even slightly interested in aviation history or considering reading this piece.

More books have arrived at the Early Days Biplanes headquarters! Somewhat surprisingly, Half Price Books is where a lot of our books find themselves before being stashed on the shelves of our ever-growing library. The recent haul included the Spirit of St Louis Workshop Manual and The American Heritage History of Flight, two pieces that I believe will serve well for our research. The Spirit of St Louis Workshop Manual resumes the theme of a book I read before my current book titled Oceans, Poles, and Airmen, a book about the daring men of the exploration days of aviation such as Lindbergh himself, Italian General Umberto Nobile during his dirigible flights to the north pole, his brave crew on the Norge and Italia expeditions, the shenanigans of Charles Levine, the bravery of Clearance Chamberlain and the numerous other aviators to attempt and achieve the Atlantic crossing by air, and the questionable acts of the famous Richard Byrd among numerous other flying events including the Dole Aerial Derby.

In my opinion, Byrd’s actions from his North Pole trip onwards were indeed controversial due to the suspicious nature in which he defended the journeys and acted throughout each, even causing internal strife amongst the crew of his first Antarctic expedition. When Bernt Balchen, a member of that first Antarctic expedition, was still figuring the mathematics of Byrd’s northern pole flight with Floyd Bennett, Byrd responded by saying “God damn you, who asked you to go into that? You’re not going to do anything of the kind! Just cut that out. It’s none of your damned business. Lay off the whole thing or you’re going to find yourself in trouble.” [Montague 1971, p.257] From the aviation layman’s viewpoint, that quote along with many others from that Antarctic trip are very puzzling and raise numerous questions as to Byrd’s trustworthiness and reliability as an explorer.

There is no question as to the bravery of these aviation pioneers, although it’s interesting to note the mild theatrics that ensued behind the media curtain of most of these golden aged flying events. Montague does an outstanding job of describing these as he was a media reporter at the time of these events and, in many cases, was present at their outset. These quotes along with many others were fundamental in constructing a further understanding of the multitude of early aviation adventures and I believe they will have the same impression on you. I cannot suggest Oceans, Poles, and Airmen enough as an addition to your library and wealth of aviation history knowledge. I am sure I will have the same opinion of my newest additions as I believe they will contribute nicely to my research of aviation’s beginnings.

BOOKS MENTIONED:

-Oceans, Poles, and Airmen

-Spirit of St Louis Workshop Manual

-The American Heritage History of Flight