The Race for the Cape

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE A HISTORY OF THE RECORD-BREAKING FLIGHTS BETWEEN

LONDON AND CAPE TOWN 1920 – 2010

by

MARTIN BARRACLOUGH

Copyright Š Martin Barraclough 2016 First published 2016 by

The right of Martin Barraclough to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the memory of those brave British and South African pilots who risked their lives to open the continent of Africa to civil aviation.

Martin Barraclough May 2016

v

FOREWORD

A

s one of the few living pilots to have flown alone to the Cape and back I find it hard to put into words the difficulties and challenges that have to be faced in order to take on a task of this magnitude and attempt to do it in record time. If I was to say that the best way to experience such an adventure would be to stand on the edge of a very tall building in a strong gusty wind for three and a half days with no sleep, the reader may get some idea of what long-distance aerial record breaking is really like.

Martin Barraclough and Tom Storey saved, and Tom rebuilt, the Mew Gull, G-AEXF, that most famous of record-breaking aircraft that was flown into the history books by Alex Henshaw in 1939. We have them to thank for helping to preserve a very special piece of our pre-war aviation history. Martin was also pivotal in my successful bid to break Henshaw’s London to Cape Town to London record in 2010. His knowledge and attention to detail in that endeavour is mirrored in this book. Not only is this a reference work, but it is also a pleasure to read, going a long way towards helping the reader to climb into the aircraft and penetrate the minds of the record breakers and what drove them in their attempts. It touches on the skills required in navigation and flying that are still required to take on the Cape, as well as dealing with the human side of such endeavours and how fear is managed – something that has not changed a jot since the first record attempt. You are able to fly with ‘Caspar’ Caspareuthus, experience the fear of Patrick Murdoch, understand the determination of Richard Bentley and marvel at the luck of Victor Smith, while being reminded of the awful consequences of poor planning which befell Bill Lancaster.

This book should be part of any would-be record breaker’s arsenal before embarking on that life- changing, fearful and challenging flight. More than anything, I know that it can only inspire a ‘dreamer’ such as I was to ‘have a go’. There is nothing like experiencing the loneliness and fear of believing that you are completely alone on a big planet where no-one can help you or save you from disaster. It enriches your life and induces in you a true sense of values. Everyone should live their dream in life and this book tells you of those who have done so. Join them.

Captain Steve Noujaim

vii

CONTENTS

Dedication Foreword – by Captain Steve Noujaim Distances, Speeds, Times, etc.

Introduction

v vii xi 1

PART ONE – THE PIONEERS 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

Creating an Imperial Air Route – 1919 Lord Northcliffe’s Challenge – January, 1920 Cockerell and Broome – February, 1920 Brackley and Tymms – February, 1920 Jannie Smuts’ Boys – February/ March, 1920 Cobham’s Round – November, 1925 to March, 1926 Bentley, Gently on a Moth – September, 1927 The Lady Athlete – December, 1927 to May, 1928 Lady Bailey – March, 1928 to January, 1929

5 13 17 25 31 41 51 61 71

PART TWO – THE GOLDEN YEARS 10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

Patrick Murdoch, the First Speed Run – July/September, 1928 The Duchess’s Round – April, 1930 Caspar, the Quiet South African – October, 1930 Tommy Rose’s First Try – February and May, 1931 Glen Kidston, the Bentley Boy – March, 1931 Peggy’s Good Hope – October, 1931 Mollison Goes West – November, 1931 and March, 1932 Victor from George – November, 1932 Our Amy – November/December, 1932 Two Long-Range Faireys – December, 1929 and February, 1933 Victor’s Swift – March, 1933 Bill Lancaster, Only Solo Fatality – April, 1933 CB and the Boomerang that Didn’t Come Back – August/September, 1935 Llewellyn, What the Heck? – November, 1935 ix

85 93 103 109 115 123 129 137 143 151 157 163 169 175

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE 24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

30.

Rose Blooms at Last – January/February, 1936 Amy and the Gull – April/May, 1936 Jim and The Dorothy – November, 1936 H.L. Brook – April, 1937 Clou, Betty and The Burberry – November, 1937 Henshaw and the Flight of the Mew Gull – February, 1939 …And Others Tried

181 187 195 201 207 217 231

PART THREE – POSTWAR 31.

32.

33.

34.

Introduction The Royal Air Force Takes Over – January, 1946 to July, 1959 Sheila Scott and Myth Too –July, 1967 Incomparable Concorde – March, 1985 & April, 1989

243 245 259 265

PART FOUR – RENEWING THE CHALLENGE 35.

36.

37.

38.

Introduction Chalkie’s Challenge – May, 2009 Nouj and the Second ’XF – September, 2010 Tough on Taff – October, 2010

275 277 285 295

39. Epilogue

301

APPENDICES 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

Chronology of All Flights London’s and Cape Town’s Airfields The FAI Lord Wakefield of Hythe The Disappearance of The Duchess of Bedford, 2nd March 1937 Saving Henshaw’s Mew Gull

303 309 313 315 317 321

Illustrations Acknowledgements Bibliography Index

331 335 337 339

x

DISTANCES, SPEEDS, TIMES, PLACES AND COSTS

DISTANCES

U

nless stated otherwise, all distances in Parts 1 and 2 are great circle distances between two points and are measured in statute miles of 1760 yards (sm) which were the standard British measurement of distance for aviation in the 1930s. In Parts 3 and 4, unless otherwise specified, distances are shown in nautical miles (nm) which, during and post World War II, became – for Britain anyway – the standard unit of aeronautical distance. These distances will frequently differ from those given by the pilots themselves and shown in contemporary reports and subsequent biographies, mainly because the routes flown were not necessarily straight line.

The author’s source for all distances has been WORLD DISTANCE CALCULATOR at www. distancecalculator.globefeed.com.

For conversion to nautical miles, multiply statute miles by 0.869. For example: London to Cape Town London to Cairo Cairo to Cape Town

6,016 sm 5,224nm 2,193 sm 1,905 nm 4,499 sm 3,907 nm

SPEEDS

I

n Parts 1 and 2 speeds are shown in statute miles per hour (mph), the imperial measure of speed at the time of these flights. In Parts 3 and 4, nautical miles per hour (knots, kts) have largely superseded mph, but for comparison purposes the speed in mph has sometimes been shown.

Several speeds are referred to in aviation. The indicated air speed (IAS) is what the pilot sees displayed on his air speed indicator. To obtain true air speed (TAS) this figure must be adjusted for altitude and temperature. Adjusting the true airspeed for wind direction and strength and, having calculated the distance, the pilot then computes the estimated elapsed time of the flight. Once a flight has been completed the actual groundspeed is calculated by dividing the distance by the time of the flight. The time will have been affected by winds, any deviation from the direct track, climb and descent speeds, circuits etc. Thus actual groundspeed may vary considerably from the quoted airspeed of an aircraft.

xi

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE

TIMES

W

here known, all times are either Greenwich Mean Time (GMT, Z or Zulu), now universally known as Coordinated Universal Time (UTC), or Local (L). When the time in London is 1200 Z (and Local), in Nairobi it is also 1200 Z but 1500 Local, i.e. Z plus 3 hours.

Times of take-off and arrival vary from account to account. In verifying all times the author’s order of priority has been 1. the pilot’s log-book (when shown).

2. the pilot’s personal account 3. reliable accounts.

4. reports in The Aeroplane, Flight and other aeronautical publications.

5. the popular press.

The acknowledged departure time is when an aircraft’s wheels leave the ground and similarly the arrival time is when the wheels touch the ground. However, the FAI have always accepted that these times may be taken from the departure and arrival of the aircraft overhead the control tower of the airfield involved, thereby making provision for an aircraft that takes off elsewhere as well as overcoming arrival delays caused by other traffic or reasons beyond the control of the pilot.

PLACES

F

ollowing independence from the colonial powers many African states changed their names and the names of towns, cities and geographical features. Listed below are the names most frequently mentioned, showing first the name at the time of the flight followed by the current name. Small changes in spelling have been ignored if the modern name is recognisable. eg Louanda – Luanda.

Abercorn – Mbala Bechuanaland – Botswana Belgian Congo – Democratic Republic of Congo Broken Hill – Kabwe Cap Juby – Tarfaya Colomb-Bechar – Bechar Coquilhatville – Mbandaka Elizabethville – Lumumbashi Fernando Po – Bioco Fort Archambault – Sarh Fort Lamy – N’djamena French West Africa – divided into Mauritania, Mali and Niger French Equatorial Africa – divided into Cameroon, Chad, Congo, Equatorial Guinea and Gabon Leopoldville – Kinshasa Mogador – Essouaira Mossamedes – Namibe Northern Rhodesia – Zambia Port Etienne – Nouadhibou Salisbury – Harare Sao Paolo do Louanda – Luanda South West Africa – Namibia Southern Rhodesia – Zimbabwe Tanganyika – Tanzania (merged with Zanzibar) xii

DISTANCES, SPEEDS, TIMES, PLACES AND COSTS Umtali – Mutare Villa Cisneros – Dakhla Several places have names that have different spellings. The following are the most common, showing the Times Comprehensive Atlas of the World, and therefore the correct(?), spelling first.

Asyut – Assiut, Assyut Belmonte Calabro – Belmonte Calabrio Benguela – Bengualla Beni-Abbes – Beni Abbas Colomb-Bechar – Colomb Bechar El Jebelein – Jebelein, Jebelin Mongalla – Mongala Ndola – N’dola Nimule – Nimuli Palapye – Palapwe Shereiq – Shereik, El Shereik Shinyanga – Shinyanza

COSTS

A

s a result of inflation and other monetary changes, the original costs mentioned in the narrative bear little resemblance to current costs. In order to give the reader some idea of current equivalents the United Kingdom Retail Price Index (RPI) has been used to give the June 2014 equivalent of the original figure and this is shown in parenthesis. For instance, a figure of £1,000 in the years 1920 to 1940 when the average RPI was 6.0 is given the current value of £43,000 when the RPI in June 2014 had risen to 256.3.

xiii

INTRODUCTION

T

he aerial routes between London and Cape Town take pilots through some of the world’s most hostile weather and over some of the world’s most inhospitable landscapes. Those who pioneered these routes from their inception in 1920 faced conditions barely imaginable to us today. These included forced landings, improvised repairs, wild animals and armed natives, while in the air they met climatic conditions hitherto unheard of, as well as the utter fatigue and exhaustion that accompanies the unrelenting pressure of air racing.

These men and women faced the limits of their machines and themselves – but there was no limit to their ingenuity and bravery. In the finest traditions of the British adventurer they had the determination to “do or die” as they sought their pages in what would become the annals of a remarkable story: the race for the Cape.

The scale of their achievements was brought home to me when I had the honour of managing Steve Noujaim’s record-breaking London – Cape Town – London flight during the summer of 2010. It was then that I was inspired to research all the previous record-breaking flights as well as the courageous but unsuccessful attempts since this challenging route was first flown in 1920.

The main objective of the chain of airfields created in 1919 by the Royal Air Force and the colonial administration was to introduce the delivery of airmail and thereafter safe and speedy passenger services down the length of Africa. Coincidentally, it opened up for mainly British and South African pilots the opportunity to fly an adventurous and testing route which covered the entire length of Britain’s colonial empire in Africa. Once the early flights had demonstrated that the engines and airframes of the day were reliable enough to make the journey, subsequent flights became wonderful opportunities to demonstrate the rapid developments in civilian aircraft throughout the golden years of the 1930s. This was an era when civilian aircraft were at the forefront of aviation technology and it culminated, on the eve of the Second World War, with Alex Henshaw’s 1939 Cape Dash that established a solo record that stood for 71 years.

The distances flown between London and Cape Town were to become shorter and shorter as successive pilots sought to fly a progressively more direct route with fewer intermediate stops, moving ever closer to the direct non-stop great circle distance between the international airports of the two cities – 6,016 statute miles or 5,224 nautical miles. The massive advance in aviation triggered by the Second World War and the invention of the jet engine resulted in dramatic reductions in times until, in 1989, the British Airways AngloFrench supersonic Concorde, making only one intermediate refuelling stop, created the current one-way record time of 7 hours and 27 minutes, a time that is unlikely to be bettered until supersonic passenger flight once again proves to be an economical proposition.

But while the multi-billion pound aviation industry produced airliners and military aircraft operated by professional flight crews who successfully reduced the flight times in the post-WW II years, no-one attempted to better Alex Henshaw’s 1939 solo record, a testament to the magnitude of his achievement. Such was the efficiency of Henshaw’s little 200hp Mew Gull that it wasn’t until the end of the millennium that affordable light aircraft were designed that could be built, owned and flown by an individual pilot with any hope of beating his record. Before he died in 2007, Alex Henshaw issued a challenge to ...any pilot to fly with no more 1

than 200 HP to the Cape and back in less time than did ’XF (his Mew Gull) in 1939. Three men rose to the challenge in 2009 and 2010. Two beat Henshaw’s times as well as the FAI class records for the route. The third was only beaten by the unrelenting weather of the ITCZ. This book seeks to immortalise the feats and courage of the men and women who stand out in aviation history for their part in one of its key quests. My hope is that it will not only bear fitting testimony to their bravery, brilliance and endurance but that it might inspire others to follow in their path. For despite all the technical advances in airframes, engines and avionics, these flights still require great measures of individual pilot competence and stamina to overcome the problems created by national politics, air traffic controls, avgas scarcity, tropical thunderstorms, finances and sheer body-wearing, mind-numbing fatigue.

Enterprising pilots still seek such challenges. There is therefore every reason to believe that during the coming years the boldest among them will dare to pick up Henshaw’s gauntlet, and equip their dream machine, prepare themselves to a peak of fitness and determination, and race for the Cape.

MCB May 2016

PART ONE

THE PIONEERS

1. CREATING AN IMPERIAL AIR ROUTE 1919

T

oday a direct flight from London to Cape Town takes twelve hours. It seems barely comprehensible that, within living memory, the most optimistic traveller wishing to undertake the journey by air would have to allow at least a week to complete it. Little wonder that the first half of the 20th century was the age of the ocean liner which, in great comfort and with great regularity, transported the world traveller. For those wishing to go to Cape Town the mighty Union Castle Line provided a weekly fourteen-day service from Southampton to Cape Town. It was not until the 1960s that the airlines consigned these great ocean liners to history.

In the aftermath of the First World War, Great Britain’s empire, on which the sun famously never set, stretched all around the globe. To reach the colonies and dominions was only possible via long sea passages.

British shipping lines ruled the Empire’s sea-lanes, and were served by passenger and cargo liners flying the red ensign as well as being guarded, as was often necessary, by the Royal Navy. Three major sea routes connected the mother country to her offspring in Canada, the Far East and Africa. When the aeroplane made its debut during the Great War Britain decided to turn to this new mode of transport to create a faster means of transporting mail, people and, eventually, freight. The goal of this new enterprise was the more efficient serving of the Empire.

The first route to be conquered was the Atlantic. John Alcock and Arthur Whitton-Brown crossed the ocean from west to east in June 1919 in a Vickers Vimy bomber, ending their sixteen-hour flight in an Irish bog. Famous though their effort immediately became, the utterly unforgiving nature of the ocean and its associated weather meant that the crossing remained particularly unattractive to even the most adventurous pilot. Indeed, it was not until 1927 that Charles Lindberg made the first solo crossing of this inhospitable watery wasteland, and a further decade before a regular passenger service by flying boat was introduced – twenty years after Alcock and Brown.

The Australian government, however, was inspired by this first long-distance aerial conquest. In November 1919, they offered a £10,000 (£430,000) purse to the first crew to fly from Great Britain to Australia. Strict conditions applied, including a stipulation that the crew must be Australian. The air-route to Cairo was already well-established, and a string of airfields conveniently placed across the British-controlled Middle East and Imperial India made this a feasible, though still risky, goal for intrepid pilots. Of the six aircraft that entered the lists, the Vimy flown by brothers Ross and Keith Smith won, making the flight to Darwin in twenty-eight days. It was not long before other intrepid pilots followed, their efforts culminating in the great MacRobertson Mildenhall to Melbourne air race of 1934.

Finally, there was Africa. Despite local flying activity in the various countries colonised by the European powers there was no route by which the short range aeroplanes of the day could fly down the length of the African continent. The most logical route was down its west coast, but this would not only be circuitous; it would also pass through colonies owned by the French, Germans, Belgians and Portuguese, who might not be welcoming to British aviators flying through their colonial airspace and it was anyhow the British government’s ultimate goal to establish a new air route through British territory to serve the British Empire.

5

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE The most direct route was over the fearsome wastes of the inhospitable Sahara desert, and even that was under French colonial rule. Britain’s influence, however, ran unbroken down the eastern side of the African continent. Although this was the longest route, it would take aviators via Cairo which was the great junction of the sea routes to India and Australasia as well as to Eastern and Southern Africa Thus it was logical to start an air route from the Egyptian capital.

Travel to Cairo was well established and could be undertaken by sea or a combination of overland rail and road travel followed by a Mediterranean crossing. But overland travel from Cairo to the Cape was a far more complicated proposition, taking upwards of two months of river, railway and road travel through the heart of the dark continent. In 1899/90 Ewart Grogan, the renegade Kenya settler, had actually walked 6,000 miles between the two capitals, taking fifteen months to do so, while Cecil Rhodes’s dream of a Cape to Cairo railway never saw the light of day.

Major General W. G. Salmond, KCMG, CB, DSO, Commanding Officer of the Royal Air Force in the Middle East, was a visionary. He and Major General Sir Frederick Sykes, GBE, KCB, CMG, who had the title of Controller General of Civil Aviation, dreamt of Cairo being the hub of the British Empire’s air routes, as it already was for the Empire’s sea routes which transited the Suez Canal on their way to India, the Far East, Australia and New Zealand, and down the east coast of Africa to Cape Town.

RAF flights were regularly made from Cairo to India. It left only a suitable air route to Cape Town to complete the new method of linking Britain with her South and East African possessions. But Cape Town was almost 4,500 miles south of Cairo and a string of landing grounds down the African continent would be needed before such a link could be established. Salmond debated with fellow RAF officers whether the route might be better served by seaplanes. The former could fly all the way down the Nile, then the length of the great African lakes and finally follow the Zambezi river through Portuguese East Africa to the coast and thence to the Cape. This was declined owing to the sector through Portuguese territory – the route must be through British controlled territory alone – and would therefore be by landplane.

Barely three months after the end of the war, Salmond organised three survey parties to create the necessary string of landing grounds. The first party, under Major Long, DSO, was to create the airfields from Cairo to Lake Victoria. The second party, under Major Emmett, was to cover the sector from Lake Victoria to the southern end of Lake Tanganyika, while the third party under Major Court-Treatt, was to be responsible for the remainder of the route to Cape Town. The brief given to these officers was that there must be airfields stocked with fuel not more than 400 miles apart and interspersed with emergency landing grounds every 120 miles.

Throughout 1919, the three survey parties set to work. The simplest sector of the route was the northern which followed the Nile and the railway link as far as Khartoum but then had to make landing grounds in the great swamp area of southern Sudan and Uganda. The second party probably had the most difficult task due to the lack of roads, the prevalence of dense forest and the ever-present risk of fever and sleeping sickness caused by tsetse fly. The third party had similar problems in the north of their area, but was able to benefit from the existing airfields in the Union of South Africa.

The creation of each landing ground was truly pioneering work. Roads had to be cut for the cars and motor-cycles of the survey parties and rafts built of old petrol drums to enable them to cross rivers. Each team had first to find a suitable flat piece of land 800 yards square at the prescribed intervals. The four boundaries were cut and then two diagonal traverses were made from corner to corner; these were cleared of all obstacles except large trees. This preliminary work showed whether the site chosen was suitable for further clearance or whether it should be abandoned. For the main clearance work to proceed the native labour force was divided into gangs of 35 men; two gangs worked a line of 600 yards and each man was allocated a piece of ground ten yards square which he first cleared of grass, sometimes 7 to 12 feet high, which in Rhodesia resembled bamboo rather than the grass we know. Trees were then felled and stumps removed. Large trees needed an excavation 10 feet in diameter and 2½ feet deep to uproot the stump. At one airfield a thousand trees were removed; at another a ravine 600 yards long by 30 yards wide had to be filled with stones and at a third 1,000 wagon-loads of stones and rocks were removed. Wells were dug for water and drainage ditches to prevent flooding. Once the site was cleared it had to be replanted with suitable grass.

The airfield was then marked with a 32 foot diameter circle of whitewashed stones set flush with the ground in the middle of the landing area. Each corner was similarly marked with Ls, and a P was placed to mark the 6

CREATING AN IMPERIAL AIR ROUTE site of the petrol, oil and water dumps, which were usually underground to protect the fuel from the sun.

Each fuel dump must store a minimum of 1,000 gallons.

In all, a total of 43 landing grounds were involved in the route with an average of 124 miles between each one. Of these, 24 were stocked with fuel, these averaging 226 miles apart. The total route was some 5,208 miles long. In their issue of 1st January 1920, Flight printed in full The Air Ministry’s announcement that was to open the length of Africa to British aviation, beginning with these words: It is interesting to note what has been done in the matter of preparing the all-British air route between Cairo and the Cape, now available for traffic. First they confirm the details of the route: The route follows the Nile from Cairo to Wadi Halfa, thence the railway to Shereik, from which place it conforms to the course of the Nile to Khartoum.

From Khartoum the course is to the west of the White Nile to Eleri, and then almost due south through the Uganda Protectorate to the northern shore of Lake Victoria. Partly owing to the extremely disturbed nature of the atmosphere above the lake the route skirts it on the eastern side, passes over what was formerly German East Africa to the southern end of Lake Tanganyika, and thence crosses Northern Rhodesia to Livingstone, whence a south-easterly course is followed to Bulawayo. The next town of importance on the route is Pretoria, and so to Johannesburg and Bloemfontein across Cape Colony to Beaufort West to Cape Town.

The announcement then reveals some fascinating details of the work involved in constructing the airfields: The preparation of many of the landing-grounds has involved a great deal of labour. In places it has been necessary to cut aerodromes out of dense jungle; to fell thousands of trees and dig up their roots, while the soil of innumerable ant-hills has had to be removed by hand, being carried in native baskets, as practically no barrows or other equipment were available. Moreover, where tsetse fly prevailed no cattle could be used for cartage purposes.

To those unacquainted with the country it will come as a surprise to learn that ant-hills are often 25 ft. in height and between 35 and 40 ft. in diameter. As one cubic yard of ant-hill weighs about 2,670 lbs. some idea may be gathered of the labour necessary to clear the ground at such a place as, for instance, that at Ndola in Northern Rhodesia, where 700 natives were working from April to August of this year and roughly 25,000 tons were removed from the ground cleared. Blasting was tried but was found to be unsuitable.

The difficulties that the pilots would face, in aircraft that were untried in the conditions, and over the distances, that they would meet in Africa, and in the event of forced landings, were spelled out for them: The first portion of the journey along the Nile Valley should present no particular difficulties to air traffic. Communications by telegraph, river and railway are fairly good, and landings can be safely effected, if necessary, at many places apart from the prepared grounds. In the central zone, however, difficulties are more numerous. Most of this is covered with dense bush and tropical forest and landings other than at the prepared grounds will be exceedingly dangerous, if not impossible. In some places there is no land transport, with the resultant difficulty of providing the necessary stores at the aerodromes. Moreover, at some places tsetse fly prevents the use of cattle so that, failing the provision of light motor transport – for which special roads would have to be prepared over some Sections – native bearers would have to be used for the carriage of stores. Shortage of water and the frequent occurrence of areas infested by mosquitoes and white ants increase the difficulties. The fact the survey parties have, in the face of such obstacles, completed their work within twelve months, is worthy of notice. For most of the southern section, with the exception of Northern Rhodesia, conditions are considerably better. Railway and telegraph facilities are good and stores can be distributed without difficulty. The climate too is healthy, and forced landings could be negotiated in many places without danger. There are wireless stations at various points within touch of the chain of grounds. Generally speaking, cable and land line communications are good, with the exception of those across certain sections such as that between Abercorn and Ndola and others in central Africa, where considerable delays may be experienced.

The report then set out the distances and time taken between points on the route as well as the methods of transport which included rail, lake steamers (service uncertain) and ground transport by motor, horse or 7

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE bullock wagon or any form of local transport. It emphasised the benefits of the new method of travel by concluding: Thus the total distance by existing methods of communication is 6,223 miles, for which 50 to 74 ½ days would be required. Against this the total flying distance of the aerial route should not exceed 5,200 miles, as the pilot will stop only at the main stations. Taking 100 miles an hour as fair average flying speed, under favourable conditions, and when the route has become firmly established, only 52 hours actual flying time would be required to traverse the entire continent, or, say, about a week, flying 8 hours per day.

Exciting though these revelations must have been for the readers, the difficulties faced by the pilots – to which crews of jets operating at over 30,000 feet today are immune – presented real peril. An article in The Times, reported in Flight, pointed out the distinct difficulties of flying in the African climate and must have quelled the spirits of even the most intrepid adventurer.

He divides the route into zones. The first, extending from Cairo to Khartoum, is practically rainless throughout the year and the conditions are almost ideal for flying. From Khartoum, down the valley of the White Nile to the northern shores of the Victoria Nyanza, is a region of well-marked wet and dry seasons. This zone presents no particular difficulty. From slightly north of the equator to Lat. 12 degrees S lies the region of the great lakes, and it is in this belt that the worst flying weather is encountered. On the Victoria Nyanza rain falls all the year round, and is often accompanied by violent thunderstorms and water-spouts which travel with great velocity. The atmosphere is damp and humid, and it is in this district that the greatest difficulty has been encountered in finding sites for aerodromes.

The combination of heat and moisture causes the vegetation to grow rapidly and the country is one vast, steaming jungle. In the country surrounding Lakes Tanganyika and Kivu the weather is always uncertain. Thunder storms arise almost without warning, though it should be possible to avoid them by climbing to seven or eight thousand feet. The whole of this district is apt to be shrouded in morning mists, though these disappear rapidly under the influence of the tropical sun. The climate has a very bad effect on timber, the extreme heat and damp causing joints to “give” and the timber to rot. This is especially the case with aircraft propellers. The glue between the laminations loses its adhesiveness and the propeller falls to pieces. From the twelfth parallel S to the twentieth the seasons become sharply divided. The climate is favourable, with a rainy season extending from November to December and from March to May. The most southern belt, from the centre of Rhodesia to the Cape, offers very little difficulty to the aerial traveller insofar as weather conditions are concerned. The weather difficulties are concentrated in the central zones, and it is in these also that the ground difficulties are worse in case of a forced landing.

To sum up the conclusions, the best time of year for a pioneer flight is between December and March.

From the latter month onwards the central zones become practically impossible, at any rate, with the present ground organisation. To make all-the-year-round navigation possible, a much more elaborate ground organisation will have to be instituted, including a system of weather reports and rapid communications, preferably by wireless. It is just as well that the difficulties should be known and faced. They are great, but by no means insuperable, and to recognise them is to have gone a long way towards defeating them. That they will be overcome in the near future is certain, we are confident, and that before very long we shall see a regular Cape-Cairo air service in being.

The Air Ministry had optimistically set the stage with its assumptions that 52 hours of flying within a period of 8 days would see the aircraft of the day making the voyage from London to the Cape. This made the huge assumption that the aircraft and engines were structurally sound enough to cope with all the climatic vagaries of the route, conditions that had never been encountered in European aviation to date. No account was taken of the tropical thunderstorms, or operation at hot and high altitudes where the air is much thinner so that the efficiency of the aircraft wings of the day would be severely reduced. No-one knew that even on the ground the aircraft structures were unable to stand up to sustained periods of exposure to the blisteringlyhot tropical sun interspersed with tropical rains and attendant dampness, both of which rotted the fabric of the aeroplane, rusted the metal fittings and ruined the wood glues of the day. All this would only be discovered once the new route was flown.

8

CREATING AN IMPERIAL AIR ROUTE Major General Sykes wrote about the new Imperial air routes: If an Empire air power, both service and civil, is developed, organised and co-ordinated, our supremacy in the air may in the future be more valuable in assisting to maintain the peace of the world than our supremacy on the sea has been in the past. The Empire is geographically in an unequalled position for establishing air depots, re-fuelling bases and meteorological and wireless stations in every part of the world. Egypt must be the ‘hub’ of the Indian, Australian and Cape routes and the heart of the whole system.

The route from Cairo to the Cape was “all red” (so-called because contemporary atlases marked British possessions world-wide in red) and so avoided any potential international complications.

Sykes concluded by saying: We have seen the great value of the aeroplane in war; the next war will in all probability open with a fight for the mastery of the air…

Prophetic words indeed.

9

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE

10

CREATING AN IMPERIAL AIR ROUTE

11

2. LORD NORTHCLIFFE’S CHALLENGE January 1920

Pilots

Flight Lieutenant F.S. Cotton (27) and Lieutenant W.A. Townshend, RAF.

Aircraft

DH14A Okapi, G-EAPY, 450 hp Napier Lion

Dates

7.2.20 – 23.2.20

From

Lympne

To

Cape Town

Result

Forced landed on beach 18 miles north of Messina. Overturned and destroyed

I

n their 5th February 1920 issue Flight printed the basic information that the Air Ministry had released concerning the route from Cairo to the Cape. This included a route diagram, a table showing much the same information, and a second table of basic weather conditions likely to be met down the length of the continent. All three are reproduced at the end of the previous chapter.

The route diagram and attendant table gave the geographical co-ordinates of all the landing grounds, their heights above sea level, distances to the next airfield and the accumulated distances from Cairo. Strangely, no compass courses between airfields were given. They then showed not only the availability of petrol and oil, but also water, bearing in mind that many engines of the day were water-cooled. No name was given for the petrol supplier (Shell and BP certainly being the major ones) but oil was shown as being castor oil, B. B., or Castrol, the latter reflecting the huge assistance given to the nascent aircraft industry by Lord Wakefield whose company, C. C. Wakefield & Co Ltd, were the makers of Castrol. Quantities stocked at each landing ground were shown and it could be seen that distances between landing grounds with fuel were usually less than 300 miles although the longest, between Abercorn and Broken Hill in Northern Rhodesia was 439 miles.

Thus no aeroplane with a range of less than 500 miles would be suitable for the trip.

Communications were only those available on the ground; airborne wireless was still in its infancy and so unreliable over great distances as to be useless; it would be another decade before it became reliable enough to justify the additional weight of the equipment and a radio operator. The choices open to the grounded aviator were telephone or telegraph, some of which were several miles from the landing ground, or primitive wireless stations manned mostly by the military. The telegraph lines, along which messages were sent in Morse code, were well established, even if they were regularly interrupted by local Africans stealing the copper wire to make body ornaments for their warriors and womenfolk. These telegraph lines ultimately connected with the ocean cables that had already been laid to England so that communication with the mother country was firmly established. Although the table of communications provided for Telephone (Tp), not a single landing ground appears to have been so equipped.

Finally, and in case a grounded aviator should lose the use of his aeroplane, the most efficient alternative methods of travelling between landing grounds were shown. These varied from railway and lake steamer to, 13

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE more ominously, trek. Any unfortunate pilot would have to be prepared to walk a long way through hostile country if he was forced down in the southern Sudan or ex-German East Africa (now Tanzania).

Flight commented on the Customs and Meteorological services en route. Pilots would receive reports of the actual weather conditions ahead of them – so far as possible – which left room for much doubt. All Customs clearances for flights between England and France had at that time to be made at Hounslow and Le Bourget. Both Customs services relaxed this draconian regime by allowing competitors to clear customs at their home aerodromes in England and Lyons in France, thereby obviating a landing at Le Bourget while still requiring a pilot to route via Lyon!

General Sykes’s summary of the route emphasised the dangers of forced landings, an ever-present possibility in the early days of relatively unreliable aero engines. He wrote: The stepping stones of this great all-red route have been actually placed…it will be realised that to have established a chain of aerodromes through the length of the continent of Africa, a distance by existing methods of travel of 6,223 miles, to have successfully contended with the geographical and physical difficulties, is no small achievement.

From Cairo the course of the Nile is followed to Wadi Halfa, and thence across the desert to Shereik, from which place the Nile is once more the airman’s guide to Khartoum. Across the desert areas from Cairo to Khartoum natural aerodromes, requiring little improvement, are readily available.

The southern end of the zone marks the terminus of the Egyptian – Soudan railways at Senaar.

With the Sudd districts of the White Nile, an area of some 35,000 square miles of swamp, and the forests of the southern Soudan between Khartoum and Mongalla, the difficulties of aerodrome construction are very materially increased.

Between Mongalla and Jinja, which is 2,132 feet above sea level, on the northern shore of Lake Victoria, an emergency landing ground has been established at Nimule on the southern boundary of the Soudan.

From Jinja, Lake Victoria is skirted on the east shore, and the next stopping-place is Kisumu, on the north-eastern corner of the lake – an important point, connecting as it does with the East African railway to Nairobi and Mombasa.

The stage Kisumu to Mwanza takes us to the southerly end of Lake Victoria, there being an intermediate landing-ground at Shirati. Though all this section of country is far from easy, greater troubles lie ahead. From Lake Victoria to Abercorn in Northern Rhodesia via Tabora (the late capital of German East Africa), is a difficult piece of country. A large stretch of Central African forest is unpleasant to contemplate as a possible enforced stopping-place, although, owing to the energy of our survey parties and the goodwill of the local authorities, even here emergency grounds have been made available at Shinyanza and Zimba.

From Abercorn there is a further difficult stretch to Broken Hill, and an emergency ground has been prepared at Ndola. The journey from Abercorn to Ndola is 314 miles. This is the longest stage without a prepared emergency ground on the entire route, but the intermediate country has been surveyed, and more than one place reported on as offering landing facilities in the event of necessity. From Ndola to Broken Hill and onwards to Pretoria via Livingstone, Bulawayo and Palapwe (where we have benefitted so much from the assistance of Chief Khama), the route roughly follows the railway, and although the dense forest country in the neighbourhood of Livingstone naturally presents difficulties, the journey, in view of the many facilities which are now within reach of every stopping place, is not a bad one.

The next aerodrome is at Johannesburg, which lies 6,000 feet above sea level, the greatest elevation on the route. From here there is a gradual falling in the elevation of the aerodromes to Cape Town.

Bloemfontein, Victoria West and Beaufort West all have aerodromes on the route, and in view of the difficulty of the Zwarte-Bergen range, which it is necessary to cross before reaching Cape Town, an emergency landing ground has been established at Touws River. This has been found necessary because the top of the mountain range referred to – which will necessitate a climb of well over 7,000 ft – is often covered with low clouds, rendering an actual approach to Cape Town somewhat dangerous.

14

LORD NORTHCLIFFE’S CHALLENGE Generally speaking the latter stages of the journey across the Transvaal and Cape Colony have not presented anything like the difficulties encountered further north, the more open nature of the country lending itself better to the requirements of the aviator, although frequently the veldt country with its rocky kopjes has made the selection of landing grounds difficult.

In considering the whole route, it is interesting to record that there are no less than 43 prepared aerodromes giving 42 stages of an average length of just over 124 miles each. Of the 43 aerodromes, 24 are at present organised as petrol and oil stations, giving an average journey of 226 miles between re-fuelling bases. The total distance to be covered is approximately 5,206 miles.

Special consideration has been given to the inauguration of a mail and passenger service from Cairo along the course of the Nile to Khartoum, and on to Kisumu on Lake Victoria. Under present conditions certain stages of this journey have to be conducted by carriers, a method both slow and expensive. It appears that here, at any rate, the most economic mode of travelling would be by air, particularly as it seems doubtful whether a Cape to Cairo railway would pay over this section of its line.

The route was ready. Who would be the first pilots to brave its unknown dangers?

In the House of Commons, Winston Churchill, one of the greatest proponents of aviation during the First World War, voiced the hope that someone would encourage the opening of the air route to the Cape by offering a reward for the first successful flight. The response was not long in coming. While the aircraft constructors were struggling with the post-war recession it was the megalomaniac Lord Northcliffe, owner of The Daily Mail and The Times, who offered a purse of £10,000 (£427,000) to be awarded to the owners and crew of the aeroplane that made the first successful flight from Cairo to the Cape.

With the assistance of the Air Ministry and the co-operation of Vickers, Northcliffe himself opened the batting by instructing The Times to enter the first aeroplane, chartering a Vickers-Vimy Commercial biplane, registered G-EAAV, to make the flight. The entry of the second aircraft was for a long time shrouded in secrecy, and only when it became news in tragic circumstances did it feature in the Press. This was a civilianised Handley Page 0/400 twin-engined bomber, registered G-EAMC, entered by The Daily Telegraph, whose owners were determined not to let The Times gain all the credit for this ground-breaking flight.

Matching the enterprise of Lord Northcliffe was the patriotism of Field Marshal Jan Christian Smuts, by then President of the Union of South Africa. Smuts was a strong supporter of air power and he was

The DH14A Okapi of F. S. Cotton and W. A. Townsend

15

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE determined that South African pilots should have the honour of conquering the new Imperial route. To this end he ordered, at a cost of £4,500 (£192,000), the purchase by the South African Government of a second Vickers Vimy, registered G-UABA and christened Silver Queen, but still in the configuration of the World War I bomber.

The fourth and final entry from England was a de Havilland DH 14A Okapi, registered G-EAPY and powered by a 450 hp Napier engine. The aircraft had been completed by The Aircraft Manufacturing Company (Airco) and Major General Sefton Brancker (later Sir Sefton Brancker, Director of Civil Aviation) a director of Airco, lent the machine to Flight Lieutenant Sidney Cotton, RAF (designer of the Sidcot flying suit during WWI) whose second pilot for the flight was the Napier engineer, Lieutenant W. A. Townsend, RAF. The aircraft was fitted with a special four-wheeled undercarriage and took off from Hendon on 4th February, but immediately diverted to Cricklewood with oil problems. Eventually leaving Lympne on 7th February, they reached Rome via Paris on 21st February. Heading for Messina they missed the aerodrome and landed on a beach 18 miles north of the airfield, overturning the aircraft and putting themselves out of the contest.

One further aircraft entered the lists; this was another Vickers Vimy, in standard bomber configuration, operated by the RAF and stationed in Cairo. She became the RAF entrant for the prize and was flown by Major Welch and Captain Halley with two mechanics on board. In gentlemanly fashion the pilots were instructed by the RAF not to take off until the last of the civil aircraft had departed “in order to give the other machines every opportunity to gain the honour of being the first to traverse Africa by air”. Thus, on 25th February, at 08:05, the Vimy took off from Cairo, with the intention of making recommendations for the improvement of the route and “to gain experience from the Service point of view in long distance flying”.

Unfortunately they had only flown some 450 miles before a forced landing had to be made at Derawi, some 20 miles north of Assouan, where the Vimy arrived at 18:00 on the same day. Two days later, on 27th February, Welch and Halley left for the south but again had to make a forced landing 80 miles north of Wadi Halfa at a place called El Derr near Korosko on the Nile (now the site of Abu Simbel) where the aircraft was reported to be seriously crashed! The RAF was going to have to obtain its long distance flying experience on another occasion.

Thus with three serious contenders left the race for the Cape had begun.

16

3. COCKERELL AND BROOME February 1920

Pilots

Captain S. Cockerell (24) and Captain F.C. Broome, DFC (28)

Aircraft

Vickers Vimy Commercial, G-EAAV, 2x350 hp Rolls-Royce Eagle VIIIs

Dates

24.1.20 to 29.2.20

From

Brooklands

To

Cape Town

Result

Crashed at Tabora, Tanganyika

N

orthcliffe had already done much for British aviation by the time he put up the ÂŁ10,000 (ÂŁ285,000) purse for the first aircraft to fly from Cairo to the Cape. He also wanted to ensure that at least one aircraft entering the lists would help the nascent British aircraft industry so, through The Times, he sponsored the entry of the Vickers Vimy Commercial. This was in fact the prototype, developed from the Vimy bomber by building a bulbous passenger-carrying fuselage fitted with eight wicker arm-chairs. After trials at Martlesham Heath this prototype was returned to Brooklands where she was fitted with round-cornered rectangular windows instead of the earlier marine-type circular port-holes, and was rolled out with the registration GEAAV. What better way to draw attention to this peacetime product of Vickers than to fly her to the Cape?

The Vickers-Vimy-Rolls commercial machine chartered by The Times

17

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE For the Cape flight all but three of the wicker arm chairs were removed to make room for lockers to house spares and tools, as well as extra fuel tanks to increase the range of the Vimy to 1,000 miles, more than adequate for the route on which no landing grounds were more than 450 miles apart. The engines were standard Rolls-Royce Eagle VIIIs of 350 hp which had already demonstrated their reliability by conquering the Atlantic as well as the Australian route, although it was reckoned that tropical temperatures and humidity would prove to be a severe test.

Chosen to fly the aircraft were two pilots who had given a good account of themselves in the war and were now Vickers test pilots. Senior pilot was Captain Stanley Cockerell, born in London, who had joined the RFC as a despatch rider the day after war was declared; he had become an air mechanic and then a sergeant- pilot. He was commissioned after destroying three Fokkers while flying a DH2 and was then wounded in November 1916, the bullet remaining in his hip. He survived the war with a total of seven enemy aircraft destroyed and became Vickers chief test pilot.

Captain Stanley Cockerell

Captain Frank Broome, DFC

Second pilot was Captain Frank “Tommy” Broome, DFC, who was born in London in 1892 and educated at Uppingham. He then spent three years working on cattle ranches in Australia before returning to England in 1914 and joining the Middlesex Regiment. Following his commission into the RASC, he transferred to the RFC in 1917 and was posted to 151 Squadron in France where he was in Cockerell’s flight. He was awarded the DFC after destroying three German aircraft in one week. He, too, joined Vickers as a test pilot after the war and together with Cockerell had made the first flight of the Vimy Commercial on 13th April 1919. The pair were known as the “Heavenly Twins”.

The mechanic was Sergeant Major James Wyatt, MSM, and the rigger was Mr. Clarence Corby but, as was typical of the time, no further information was given by the press about their backgrounds and experience.

The Times appointed a member of their staff, Dr. P. Chalmers Mitchell, CBE, DSc, LLD, FRS, to join the aircraft in Cairo. Reminiscent of another great transcontinental race eight years earlier – Scott’s expedition to the South Pole – there was to be a scientific purpose to the voyage. Mitchell was to test the practical utility of the route. The newspaper noted particularly that the machine had not been entered in a race and that the voyage might take as long as a fortnight.

The Vimy took off from Brooklands at 11:30 on 24th January to much publicity from The Times which later published the following extracts from the diary kept by the pilots, illustrating well their light-hearted approach and the flying conditions of those days: 18

COCKERELL AND BROOME Jan 24th: Left Brooklands 11.30 am….Clouds at 1,000 ft…Soon ran into mist…and nearly took Towers off Crystal Palace…Made Manston 12.35pm… Channel crossing impossible. Jan 25th: Left Manston 9.20 a.m. Clear sky but ground mist…have fitted ear doings…difficult to keep in place under flying cap.

11:50 -Seen no ground since Beauvais. Don’t know where the hell we are. Wyatt asleep.

12:00 -Saw large town through clouds. Tried to get down, but too thick on the ground. Think it must be Le Paris. Returned to 1,800 ft. and steered 14 deg. compass.

12:50 – Came through clouds again. Clear at 800 ft. Landed in grass field to find our whereabouts.

Wyatt wakes up. Proved to be Villemont (about 90 miles from Paris). Had gaspers and continued 1.30 pm.

16:20 -Arrived Lyons. Nearly caused strike asking for 600 gallons juice on a Sunday night. Total flying time since Brooklands:- 7 hr. and 20 min. Petrol used, 260 gallons.

Jan 26th -Arrived on Aerodrome at 9.30 am. Much trouble in getting petrol and oil from personnel.

French mechanics don’t appreciate our Billlingsgate accent. Fine morning but young gale blowing from S.S.E. 10:40 -Sticky take-off.(God help the poor sailors on a day like this.) Wind against us, about 50 m.p.h.at 2,000 ft.

11:40-Lyons Aerodrome. Still visible under our tail, only done about 20 miles (bumped to beggary!).

Worse stuff ahead.

12:00 -Thank God we’ve got a Navy and Vimys float. Rain falling out of sky. (Hope we’re Getting near South of France, someone said it was sunny.) Hardly making any headway. Country very pretty but tired of looking at same spot for hours on end.

13:30 – Rhone developing into sea. Getting thoroughly fed up and bumps starting again. Taking short intervals each and machine hardly controllable. Expect to be blown back to Weybridge any moment.

Group of pilots and others directly concerned with this historic flight. Left to right: Mr. Corbett (The Times),Mr. Corby (rigger), Sergt-Maj. Wyatt (mechanic), Mr. A. Knight (works manager), Capt. Broome, DFC (navigator and second pilot), Mr, R. K. Dowson (Vickers, South Africa), Capt. Cockerell, Croix de Guerre, Belgium (pilot), Mr. R. K. Pierson (Designer of the “Vimy”), Mr. P. Muller (works superintendent).

19

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE 13:45 – Spotted Ystres (about 25 miles from Marseilles) in distance, decided to land.

14:20 – The largest aerodrome we’ve ever seen. Flew for 20 minutes before we reached hangars, landed like a bird. French very good to us, took us straight to their Mess. Vimy and engines, etc., O.K. Jan 27th – Arrived Rome from Ystres 6hr. 10 min. Engine and apparatus intact. Hope arrive Malta tomorrow.

Jan 29th – Arrived Malta from Rome, 5hr. 10 min. Leaving for Tripoli as soon as possible.

Jan 31st – Arrived Tripoli from Malta 2hr. 50 min. Storms prevented leaving yesterday. RAF gave flying boat escort 50 miles from Malta. Encountered tremendous storms and lightning halfway.

Italians sent two aeroplanes and flying-boat escort and when sighted most help in every way.

Feb 1st -Arrived Benghazi 3 am. Total flying 6 hr. Storms and heavy rain. Weather getting worse.

The Vimy flew on, leaving Benghazi at 16:00 on 2nd February, and made Sollum in four hours. Next day they flew on either through, or dodging, violent storms over Mersa Matruh until they reached Arab Bay south-west of Alexandria. From there they set a compass course over 150 miles of desert until, guided in by the pyramids, they descended into Heliopolis, then and now Cairo’s main aerodrome. For the next four days Wyatt and Corby worked on preparing the Vimy’s Rolls Royce engines for tropical operation. The great weakness of these engines was their water cooling system which made them heavy and prone to leakages, particularly when hot. Just how serious these features were would only be discovered in the days ahead.

Dr. Mitchell arrived ‘overland’ the same day as the Vimy and his subsequent report for The Times was printed in Flight on 11 March 1920. His general comments are printed at the end of this chapter but extracts are quoted at appropriate stages of the flight from Heliopolis to Tabora.

On 6th February, after repairs and rest, the crew left Cairo, heading south. Over Luxor a leak developed in the water jacket of one engine cylinder so Cockerell made a precautionary landing in the desert nearby. A temporary repair was made which allowed them to continue to Assouan where the crew bivouacked under the wing, partly because they wanted to make an early start next morning and partly because the town was three miles away.

Dr. Mitchell: Our first night was spent in the luxurious Cataract hotel at Assouan, the future first stage of the permanent air route, but it is probable that a motor trolley will be required for transport to and from the aerodrome. Sleeping in bags on the desert sand was comfortable. There were no mosquitoes, but the jackals were unnecessarily vocal. In the chilly morning we had breakfast off a billy of tea, toasted ham, and hard-boiled eggs.

Taking off from Assouan at 07:15 on 7th February, they passed over the dam which Dr. Mitchell observed was almost full, submerging palms around its edges. Leaving the great south-westerly loop in the Nile they crossed the desert, hugging the railway, and two further leaking water jackets necessitated two more precautionary landings, the first at Station 6. At the second landing the crew had to walk in search of water which obliging natives eventually delivered by camel and they made Khartoum just before dark on the evening of 8th February.

Dr. Mitchell: Our forced descent at the good emergency aerodrome at Station 6 for repairs necessitated a long wait in great heat. We saw our first mirage and lunched off biscuits and tea out of a thermos flask.

Our second forced descent that day was in a desert area which the pilots only found after an anxious search. The heat was extreme and we had to wait hours while a native fetched water on a camel.

Khartoum was reached after a most anxious trip (throughout which the water was leaking) just as the sun was setting. We enjoyed luxurious hospitality at Khartoum, which is the normal second stop.

The route south from Khartoum followed the Nile and took them over Kosti, just south of which they started experiencing engine cooling problems. When they arrived at Jebelein, Mitchell proved his real worth to the aviators. He designed a make-shift, but successful, method of topping up the engines’ cooling water in flight. This comprised tubing, valves from spare tubes, petrol tins and a foot pump. When the pilots signalled that the temperatures had risen to danger point, water was pumped from the cabin into the water jackets of 20

COCKERELL AND BROOME the engines. They nicknamed the apparatus the Mitchell-Cockerell-Heath Robinson Temperature Regulator and it was to see them safely over the Sudd.

Dr. Mitchell: After two nights in Khartoum we had a forced descent on a good aerodrome at Jebelein for temporary repairs, then a second forced landing on dangerous ground near Renk. We were unable to reach water through the bush and swamps, so lunched on sandwiches and tea while obliging natives fetched water from the Nile. We still hoped to continue our journey safely when the temporary repairs had been made. The engine, on starting, leaked so badly that we resolved to return to Jebelein, and possibly to Khartoum. During our stay of three nights at Jebelein, we experienced great kindness from District Inspector Bethel and our short supplies were improved by shooting guinea fowl, while welcome drink was sent from Kosti. We should probably have abandoned the trip for lack of new engines but, knowing that none were to be had either in Khartoum or Cairo, we resolved to persevere on the strength of my water-pumping invention. We certainly took an enormous risk in crossing the Sudd, where a forced descent meant disaster. A change of wind and bad visibility caused us to lose our way, and we had a forced descent on most dangerous ground in a burnt stretch of dry swamp in hostile Dinka territory. We ate a miserable meal of biscuits and tea amid terrific heat and the stench of dry swamp, which was nauseating. Armed natives, hiding in the bush, did not approach us, and we could find no water, so made a flight in search of it. At last we found a creek near a similar burnt landing-ground, and we had some amusing business with the armed Dinkas. We gambled on our direction, but when leaving Capt. Cockerell was unable to ascend from the bad ground, even after a run across the longest possible space available. On this the natives returned with bows, but our second attempt was happily successful after a further leak had been patched. As daylight and petrol were both short, Capt. Cockerell, after a search, contrived to descend on a dry swamp at the edge of a Nile backwater, but the direction and distance to Mongalla were still uncertain. This was a pestilential landing-ground, abounding with mosquitoes, centipedes, crocodiles, and large bellowing animals. When it was dark natives brought firewood, milk and water.

Either the stew was too much for us or our appetites failed us, and we supped on milk, quinine, and gin. We despatched a native with a note, hoping to acquaint Mongalla with our position, and fired rockets, but they only made a smoke. We tried to sleep on the plane, but in the morning there was no news so, after a breakfast of tea and biscuits, Capt. Broome and I started on a six hours’ tramp through bush and swamp. We reached Mongalla quite exhausted, and found that our message had been received and that petrol had been sent by motor launch.

By the time the Vimy reached Mongalla however her airframe and engines were in serious need of overhaul and this took five days of steady work for Wyatt and Corby. When they eventually took off on 20th February a magneto cut on the starboard engine, resulting in a difficult forced landing for Cockerell and Broome back at Mongalla. The defective magneto replaced, they made a further start and were reported over Rejaf on their way to Jinja in the Protectorate of Uganda.

Dr Mitchell: We spent five nights at Mongalla, benefitting from kind hospitality, but all five of us were rather unwell and the weather was most oppressive. Our first attempt at flight was a failure, and the return to the aerodrome was extremely dangerous. A magneto contact-breaker was broken and a radiator shutter jammed. Our second attempt, after repairs and after the radiator shutter had been fixed open, was successful.

The tropical conditions were still taking their toll of the engines and overheating caused them to land at Nimule on the border of Sudan and Uganda. This was one of the emergency landing grounds created by the British government but the surface proved to be so rough that during the landing run all the tyres were punctured and the tail-skid was ruined. Punctures were mended, undercarriage repairs were effected, a leaking cylinder was patched and they were again ready for take-off but this was frustrated by a burnt valve on the port engine. After camping out that night they replaced the valve and were ready to take off by noon on the 21st. At this time of the day the heat was terrific and they were unable to climb to a safe height so reluctantly returned to land again at Nimule, this time without damage to the wheels and tailskid. Despite 21

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE disturbance from lions they camped out for the night and made an early start in the cool of the morning of the 22nd, slowly heading for Jinja.

Dr. Mitchell: We had a good trip to Nimule, where we had to descend on a rough aerodrome… Here lime-juice, milk, and firewood were kindly sent by a Syrian doctor. Cockerell said that his flying nerve was in danger for the first time in five years of flying, but we were all cheered by the mountain air and a luncheon of eggs and tea. For dinner we had a stew of rice and bully beef, and tinned peaches. We spent a good night, although lions came roaring very close. In an attempt to start in the terrific heat we could not rise above the Nile, but kept dropping almost to water level, and were forced to return to the aerodrome. There were columns of dust all round the horizon thousands of feet in height. At dusk we visited Nimule for dinner and a bath at the doctor’s, and on returning to the aerodrome after dark everyone had a good night. After breakfast on tea and biscuits we had a good run to Jinja, where we slept in sleeping bags in a temporary straw pavilion on the aerodrome for two nights in order to be ready for an early start. We experienced generous hospitality and had motor drives to the club and some beautiful houses. Our first attempt to start revealed fresh magneto trouble, and temporary repairs were effected in hopes that new engines would be awaiting us at Kisumu, to which we made a slow flight. The expected engines, however, turned out to be useless as they had been left at Mombasa after a long immersion in salt water. Magneto trouble at Jinja caused so much delay that they decided not to risk a hot mid-morning take-off and to leave early the next morning, which they did at 06:40, reaching Kisumu on the shores of Lake Victoria in British East Africa after a flight of 2 hours and 20 minutes.

Dr. Mitchell reported that the whole crew were well and still in good spirits.

With the engines running fairly well and with a lighter load the Vimy took off at 06:40 on 26th February for Tabora in Tanganyika, formerly German East Africa, a distance of 366 miles, the route taking them down the eastern shores of Lake Victoria to Mwanza. After an overnight stay at Tabora they were once again airborne at 06:50 on the 27th, but water leaking from an engine caused them to return and land again for yet more repairs. These effected, they took off at 14:00 but just as they reached flying speed the starboard engine failed and the aeroplane crashed on the scrub just off the end of the runway, collided with an ant- hill and came to rest on its nose, both undercarriages being forced through the lower planes and fuel tanks, fortunately without catching fire. Save for Cockerell spraining his wrist and Wyatt bruising a leg, there were, amazingly, no injuries. Situated high between the wings neither engines nor propellers were damaged and arrangements were later made to remove and store them before the crew headed for Dar-es-Salaam and England – by sea.

Dr. Mitchell’s comments on the crash and the flight were a classical display of British sang-froid: After two nights of luxurious hospitality we made a slow flight to Mwanza and Tabora, where we had further mechanical trouble, but every physical comfort. The final crash was due to leakage into the induction coils. This crash completed my confidence in the coolness, judgement and skill of the pilots. Cockerell says the art of flying is to know how to crash. The occurrence is too rapid for alarm, but gives a great impression of the inevitable fragility of a costly machine, also a greater chance of safety for the passengers than a corresponding smash by road or rail.

Our actual flying time from Heliopolis to Tabora was 36½ hours for nearly 2,700 miles, which gives an average [speed] of about 75 mph. With engines in normal condition this is an easy five days’ journey, flying only from 6 a.m. until noon, with full comforts for travellers at night. The motion at worst is much better than at sea; when normal it is better than in a train. Writing, reading, and eating are more pleasant and the journey less tiring and quite suitable for private travellers. The risk to life is extremely small with good pilots, even in case of a forced landing, but the risk to the machine is considerable, hence relays of machines are necessary for a passenger or commercial service. The risks of ascents are much greater, hence the enlargement of all elevated tropical aerodromes is imperative. A detailed survey of certain portions of the route is advisable for the purpose of fixing intermediate landmarks on account of varying winds and bad visibility due to bush fires. The Vickers Vimy planes, propellers, and controls gave no trouble. The passengers’ seating, the position of the windows, and the accommodation of spare parts and food supplies require 22

COCKERELL AND BROOME reconsideration. The morning cold makes a rug for the feet requisite, otherwise extra clothing is unnecessary. The existing arrangements for ventilation are sufficient, even during the great heat.

On our actual journey it was different. Success was achieved only by the skill of the pilots, the endurance of the mechanics, and the good fellowship of all five, coupled with the untiring aid of the Royal Air Force, British civilians, and natives. In our forced descent near Luxor the pilot was misled by the markings of a discarded aerodrome. The crash smashed my seat, but fortunately did no other damage.

For their efforts both Cockerell and Broome were awarded the Air Force Cross while Wyatt and Corby received the Air Force Medal. Both pilots went back to test flying for Vickers, Cockerel being killed during a German bombing raid in 1940 and Broome dying in 1948.

23

4. BRACKLEY AND TYMMS February 1920

Pilots

Major H. G. Brackley, DSO, DSC (26) and Captain F. Tymms, MC (31)

Aircraft

Handley Page 0/400, G-EAMC, 2x350 hp Rolls-Royce Eagle VIIIs

Dates

5.2.20 to 26.2.20

From

Cricklewood

To

Cape Town

Result

Force landed and wrecked at Shereik, Sudan

H

erbert George Brackley was born on 4th October 1894 and, after a typical middle-class English upbringing, he joined the Royal Naval Air Service in 1915 and learned to fly with No.4 Wing, RNAS Eastchurch.

He was then posted to France where he flew bombers with distinction and ended the war with the DSO and DSC. Determined to pursue a career in civil aviation, he pioneered the civil flying of the Handley Page bombers in which he had achieved such success during the recent war.

Following an unsuccessful attempt to make the first trans- Atlantic flight in a four-engined Handley Page V/1500 he set about finding an aircraft with which to compete for the Daily Mail prize.

With Brackley’s experience on Handley Page aircraft, Frederick Handley Page and his General Manager, George Woods Humphery, needed little persuasion to lend him a suitable aircraft, an HP 0/400, and The Daily Telegraph agreed to sponsor Brackley’s attempt. “Brackles”, as he became known throughout his life, picked Captain Frederick Tymms to be his navigator for the attempt and together they spent several weeks Major H.G. Brackley preparing for the flight under conditions of great secrecy. He then chose as his engineer Sergeant Knight, who had served in Brackley’s Handley Page squadron in France and, as his rigger, a man named Stoten who had accompanied Brackley on a tour of America. Although he was renowned for taking necessary risks, Brackley was also known to be meticulous with his planning. As well as making all the necessary technical preparations, he attended lectures in tropical medicine and made visits to the Natural History Museum to study how to avoid malaria, yellow fever and sleeping sickness.

At 08:30 on 25th January, a typically misty January morning, Brackley and his crew took off from Cricklewood aerodrome for Paris’s Le Bourget airfield, hoping to make Lyon by the end of the day. As soon as they had crossed the Channel they encountered low solid cloud cover; not being sure that the cloud would 25

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE break over Lyon, they diverted to Marquise, an abandoned RAF aerodrome near Calais where they landed in the early afternoon. Undoubtedly known to Brackley, Marquise had been occupied by a Handley Page squadron during the war and the crew were able to rummage around in the scrap heap for an incidence wire fitting which had already broken and for which they did not carry a replacement.

The cruising speed of the HP 0/400 was only 70mph (61 knots) and with a head wind their ground speed to Le Bourget next day was sometimes as low as 40 mph, so it took them three hours to make the 140 mile flight after which they decided that they had had enough. The following day, however, they made better progress; initially flying over fog and then extensive cloud cover; they landed at Istres near Marseilles, their goal for the day, covering a distance of 450 miles in six hours and averaging 75mph. It was at Istres that they began to realise the sheer amount of hard work that was required at each stop to keep the aircraft flying. First they had to fill the tanks on the upper wings with 300 gallons of petrol which had to be lifted in tins by a chain of three men and poured by hand through chamois leather filters; this took two to three hours. Then there were routine inspections, adjustments and an endless succession of small repairs which took as long again. The Captain F. Tymms, MC exhaust manifold on the port engine needed regular repair and they were to find that the tail skid needed replacement after every landing on a stony airfield. Having landed at Istres at 15:30 they were only ready to leave again at 22:30, some seven hours later so, not unreasonably, they succumbed to the hospitality of the CO of the French Air Force training school and spent the night there.

On 28th January they took off for Rome, climbing over the cloud-covered mountains north of Nice and Monte Carlo. Not happy with remaining “on top” they then made a cautious descent through low cloud over the Gulf of Genoa but, having no weather reports for Rome, decided to return to the French Naval Air Station at St. Raphael. There they remained grounded all the next day in heavy rain with threats of a mistral, but this gave them the opportunity to make good the copious temporary repairs they had made earlier, which they had been able to do by scavenging parts from a crashed Handley-Page aeroplane that fortuitously lay on the edge of the aerodrome.

Friday 30th January dawned fair but with extensive low cloud and they flew at 600 feet along the French Riviera over Antibes and Nice, and then over Monte Carlo and San Remo, enjoying the Italian coastal scenery all the way to Pisa and then inland to Rome’s Centocelle aerodrome where they landed at 15:00 after a six and a half hour flight. More trouble with the port engine manifold, as well as the normal servicing and refuelling, kept them on the ground for four to five hours so they elected to fly on to Brindisi next day. Despite hearing that Cockerill and Broome in the Vimy Commercial had left Centocelle that morning and were routing to Cairo via Malta, Tripoli and Benghazi, Brackley and Tymms decided to fly further east via Brindisi, Athens and just east of the Libyan border to Sollum, expecting fine weather and thereby hoping to save one and a half days. They left Centocelle at 10:00 on 31st January and had an uneventful flight through the Benevento Pass to Brindisi, landing there at 14:40.

It was at Brindisi that disaster struck. Taxiing out to take off on the morning of 1st February the starboard wheel of the 0/400 sank into boggy ground at the far end of the aerodrome. Without waiting for the engines to be shut down, Knight and Stoten jumped down from the aeroplane with spades and started to dig the wheel out.

Stoten stepped back suddenly and the starboard propeller struck his head, fracturing it badly in several places and leaving the propeller with two broken blades; Stoten died on the way to hospital. Tymms was deputed to escort Stoten’s body from the aerodrome to the town and, hearing that Captain Shakespeare, the Handley Page representative in Athens, had an 0/400 there, Brackley sent him on to Athens by ship to collect one of the propellers, Tymms leaving Brindisi that night in the SS Semiramis. Selecting the only serviceable propeller out of the four that were in Athens, Tymms had to wait over a week before he could set sail on the SS Mikali back to 26

BRACKLEY AND TYMMS Brindisi. He finally arrived back in Brindisi on 11th February only to find that inadequate packing and water in the hold of the ship had so damaged the propeller that it was totally unserviceable. Meanwhile Brackley, having attended Stoten’s funeral on February 3rd, then left immediately for Taranto to try to find a propeller there, but it transpired that there were absolutely no spares whatsoever throughout Italy.

There was nothing else they could do but wait for a replacement propeller to be sent from England. This arrived by sea on the 17th February in the care of Banthorpe who was Stoten’s replacement and who escorted the propeller all the way from London. This was just as well because the propeller blades were so long that the train had to stop before going under a bridge; just in time Banthorpe prevented the railwaymen from shortening them with a saw! The new propeller was fitted by the evening of the 17th and the crew were up at 04:30 next morning to make an early start, but could only manage a 07:50 take-off for Athens. Making a respectable 70 mph they flew over Corfu and the Gulf of Corinth, landing in Athens some five and a half hours later. Captain Shakespeare, the HP agent, had arranged for Shell to refuel the aircraft, which they did with the aid of Bulgarian prisoners. The afternoon and most of next morning were taken up preparing the aircraft for the trans-Mediterranean flight. Among other duties, this involved re-filling the radiators which had been drained to prevent the coolant freezing in the Greek winter conditions, and then warming up the engine oil with a blow-torch.

In a freezing northerly wind they took off on the 19th and in cloud, rainstorms, sleet and turbulence they headed out over the Mediterranean towards Sollum. As always, when crossing the sea and out of sight of land, small incidents cause disproportionate anxiety and half-way across the Med the whole crew were startled by a resounding crack but, despite frantic searches of the whole aircraft, nothing could be found. It was only when they landed that they found that the metal arm of the wind-driven petrol pump fitted to the side of the fuselage had snapped, fortunately without causing the failure of the pump itself. A tailwind put their cruising speed up to almost 100 mph and they covered the 445 miles in just under five hours, Tymms taking a sun sight and noting that the additional ground speed greatly helped to reduce the margins of error in their navigation. With huge relief they made an accurate landfall at Ras el Melh, the cape just to the north of Sollum where they landed. From the moment they arrived they were immersed in re-fuelling, repairs and then picketing the aircraft. This was, at best, difficult in the stony ground; at worst, impossible in sand which prevented the pickets from holding. Helped by the Army detachment in charge of the airfield, they worked until dark after which they were finally dined and put up for the night.

After an 05:30 start on the morning of 20th they took off two and a half hours later, flying the 390 miles along the coast over Sidi Barrani and Mersa Matruh. Suddenly and without any warning the pilot’s windscreen flew off, hitting Brackley on the head and tearing a large hole in the fabric of the top centre section. It seemed as if Brackley had been knocked out, but he quickly recovered and they flew on, crossing the Nile at Tarrana and landing at Heliopolis.

Despite all the adventures and mishaps of the past 25 days, Cairo was of course where the real flight began and as always in that great hub of the British Empire they were to meet other aviators preparing for their respective flights. First they were met on landing by Van Ryneveld and Brand who, having crashed their Vimy at Korosko, had returned to Heliopolis and were preparing for take-off in another Vimy supplied to them by the RAF. Parer and Macintosh, flying to Australia in a DH9, arrived after a series of misadventures all over Europe to have their aircraft serviced by the RAF before heading further east. Then they picked up Major Turner, the Daily Telegraph’s correspondent and one-time editor of Aeronautics, who was waiting impatiently to join them for the voyage south.

Pivotal to all the competitors’ efforts was the support provided by the RAF who did all the servicing and supplied all stores, charts, spares and other equipment for the flight down the length of Africa; quite simply no-one could have made the trip without their assistance. Brackley had to wait until the South Africans’ aircraft had been prepared for flight and even in those heady days of empire Tymms noted that the service was being handicapped by the rapid post-war demobilisation of skilled engineers and fitters, leaving few experienced hands in Egypt. Maps, spares and equipment were drawn from RAF stores (and presumably paid for), repairs carried out, engines inspected and routine adjustments made. Tymms recorded that: mosquito nets, revolvers, compasses and water bottles were purchased from Ordnance, English gold bought and drafts cashed at the National Bank of Egypt. Finally they were ready to leave by the evening of 22nd February 27

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE with Van Ryneveld and Brand a day ahead of them and Cockerell and Broome reported to have already reached Mongalla in southern Sudan.

With the crew up at 05:00, Monday 23rd February dawned to rainstorms, sandstorms and a strong southerly wind – hardly an auspicious start. Waiting with his impatient crew for an improvement in conditions, Brackley finally took off at 09:18, hoping to make Wadi Halfa by the end of the day. In the strong headwind their groundspeed was initially reduced to 40 mph, improving later to 50 and then 60 mph. Then their port fuel pump failed and the crew had to take turns hand-pumping, so the decision was taken to land at an emergency landing ground to fix it, but Brackley later changed his mind and decided to try to reach Assyut instead. Despite the fact that they were following the Nile, Tymms made a mistake in map reading during rain and a sandstorm and they had to make a forced landing in the desert 20 miles north of Assyut, at a place called Assint. Such forced landings were not unusual considering the unreliability of engines of the day, but were nevertheless fraught with difficulty, and only made possible by the low flying speeds of these early aircraft. The pilot had nevertheless to find an adequately-long strip of even ground, devoid of hillocks, boulders and holes, on which to put the aircraft down. Despite having to go round on his first approach to avoid a hummock, Brackley made a successful landing and the crew sat down to a picnic lunch while they worked out their navigational mistake. Without further ado they took off and arrived overhead the camp at Assyut. An aeroplane was still a rare sight and the crew saw natives running into their huts in fear, one even stopping to throw a stone at them. Instead of landing on the prepared ground four miles out into the desert Brackley picked a closer site and after several approaches to ensure its suitability he landed, to be welcomed by two young British officers of the Punjab Regiment who were in charge of the area.

While the crew set to work repairing the petrol pumps and the frayed leading edges of the propellers which had been eroded by sand, petrol was fetched by regimental limber, but by nightfall only 50 gallons had arrived and it took the early hours of the next morning and a total of 73 cans of petrol to replace the 240 gallons consumed since Cairo. Re-fuelling completed, they took off for Wadi Halfa at 10:40 on 24th February.

Now their troubles really began.

Soon after take-off the port fuel system gave more trouble, requiring Knight’s constant attention. Then, for the first time, they encountered the hot arid conditions of desert flying. Cruising at 6,000 feet without coats was at first a pleasant change to earlier winter conditions, but soon they found that the south-westerly wind was bringing in hot air from the desert and flying conditions became very bumpy with the aircraft losing height rapidly despite application of power. By noon they were losing height even with the engines running at full power and Brackley decided to land at Assouan (Aswan) in order to save his engines and thereafter only fly early in the morning. Their delay was made tolerable by the luxurious conditions of the Cataract Hotel, only spoilt by having to get up at 03:30 next morning. not just to start flying early, but because the only method of transport at that time of day involved an hour’s ride to the landing ground on a donkey while Major Turner followed later with the baggage on a light railway engine. This early start was necessary so that they could get airborne in the colder air of the early morning, the aerodrome being surrounded by black rocky hills over which the heavily-laden 0/400 would probably have failed to climb later in the day.

Tymm’s account of this last flight graphically describes the end of their adventure: Progress was good with a ground speed of 65 mph, steadily improving to over 90 as we climbed into a more northerly wind. At 6,000 feet, after climbing for an hour, we seemed to be at our ceiling.

Engines were running full out, but the air was cooler and after another half hour we were at 7,000 feet. Then, with engines still running flat out, we lost height. Brackley’s aim was to gain as much height as possible before the heat of the day in the hope of maintaining it with the reduced load of the aircraft. Conditions improved. We reached 7,800 feet and maintained it. Ground speed increased to 90 mph and all looked fair for our goal (Khartoum), 1,200 miles from Cairo. We began to plan our next flight to start before dawn in the hope of beating the bogey of the route – low density heated air. Our course lay along the Nile to Korosko – where is the most fascinating desert of black rocks set in golden brown sand – thence across the desert to Station 4 on Kitchener’s railway from Wadi Halfa to Abu Hamed – the railway a thin pencil line on a flat featureless desert; and eventually following the Nile again via Atbara to Khartoum. We reached Abu Hamed after four hours’ flying.

28

BRACKLEY AND TYMMS Twenty minutes later fate ordained the end of the flight. A violent oscillation and vibration of the machine set in, which seemed to threaten a break-up; the biplane tail twisted and rocked in the most alarming manner. Later we recognised the symptoms as tail flutter, but the knowledge would not have been much comfort to us then. No-one expected the airframe to last more than a minute.

Two of the crew had to hold down a large box of spares and tools which was screwed down on the rear gunner’s compartment, and which came adrift. Brackley shut down the engines and put the machine into a slow straight glide. There followed the longest quarter of an hour any of us had experienced, and none wished to repeat. The rudders were jammed by the oscillating elevators. At 2,000 feet we began to think it worth while to look for a forced landing place. We were over the railway and the river and Brackley selected a suitable looking area ahead. He had only partial control by using ailerons and was unable to complete his turn into wind. The north wind which had generously helped our ground speed, now proved too strong for our undercarriage, and G-EAMC ploughed her nose into the desert sand. Most of the crew were thrown clear. Brackley was somewhat shaken – no-one else was hurt. So, on 25th February the attempt failed 6 miles north of El Shereik, Sudan some two hundred miles north of Khartoum.

Brackley’s Handley Page 0/400 crashed at El Shereik, Sudan, 26th February 1920

Thus ended Handley-Pages’, the Daily Telegraph’s and Brackley’s flight, but it carried a tragic sequel to it. After the engines were salvaged with the help of the Sudan Railways the Royal Air Force offered Brackley a Khartoum-based 0/400 with which to complete his journey. The aeroplane had lain three months in the open and Brackley decided it was unfit to fly, so declined the offer. The RAF then decided to fly it back to Cairo themselves but two hundred miles north of Khartoum the aeroplane broke up in mid-air and the entire crew was killed.

Brackley himself went on to make a distinguished career in civil aviation, flying for Handley Page, Imperial Airways and BOAC, and planning many of the Imperial routes. He rose to the rank of Air Commodore during WWII and later was CEO of British South American Airways. Tragically he was drowned when swimming in Rio de Janeiro in 1948 at the age of 54.

Sir Frederick Tymms also pursued a distinguished career in civil aviation and in 1948 was appointed Director of Civil Aviation in India. The Guild of Air Pilots and Air Navigators of London (GAPAN), now The Honourable Company of Air Pilots, of which Sir Frederick was a founder member and Master, perpetuates his memory with the annual Sir Frederick Tymms Memorial Lecture.

29

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE

30

5. JANNIE SMUTS’ BOYS February / March 1920

Pilots

Lieutenant Colonel Pierre van Ryneveld, DSO, MC (28) Captain Quintin Brand, DSO, MC, DFC (26)

Aircraft

Vickers Vimy, G-UABA, Silver Queen, 2x350 hp Rolls Royce Eagle VIIIs

Dates

4.2.20 – 11.2.20

From

Brooklands

To

Youngsfield

Result

Forced landing at Korosko. Aircraft destroyed

Aircraft 2

Vickers Vimy, F8615, Silver Queen II, 2x350 hp Rolls Royce Eagle VIIIs

Dates

22.2.20 – 6.3.20

From

Cairo

To

Youngsfield

Result

Crashed on take-off from Bulawayo. Aircraft destroyed

Aircraft

de Havilland DH9, H5648, Voortrekker, 200 hp Siddley Puma

Dates

16.3.20 – 20.2.20

From

Bulawayo

To

Youngsfield First flight ever from England to Cape Town: 45 days First flight ever from Cairo to Cape Town: 27 days

Result

T

he Vickers Vimy IV bomber that Smuts ordered for the South African entry was still in front-line service with the Royal Air Force. It had already proved its worth in long distance flying by being the first aircraft to fly the Atlantic and to make the long voyage from England to Australia. To fly the machine Smuts selected a highly-decorated South African pilot still serving in the Royal Air Force, 28-year-old Lieutenant-Colonel Hesperus Andrias “Pierre” van Ryneveld, DSO, MC. Van Ryneveld chose as his co-pilot 26-year-old Captain Christopher Joseph Quintin “Flossie” Brand, DSO, MC, DFC. Smuts had already chosen van Ryneveld to head up the new South African Air Force which was to come into being on 1st February 1920. So what better way for the young airman to return to South Africa than by making the very first flight, not just from Cairo, but all the way from England.

31

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE The Vimy was hastily prepared for the flight by Vickers, registered as G-UABA and, because she was painted overall in silver aluminium paint, named Silver Queen. By the time she was ready for take-off from Brooklands on 4th February, The Times Vimy Commercial of Cockerell and Broome had already reached Cairo, while the Handley-Page 0/400 of Brackley and Tymms was also ahead, although grounded in Italy awaiting a new propeller from England.

Lt. Col. Pierre van Ryneveld, DSO, MC

Captain Quintin Brand, DSO, MC, DFC

Smuts could hardly have chosen two more decorated and audacious pilots. Van Ryneveld, born in the Orange Free State on 2nd May 1891, had joined the Royal Flying Corps and served with distinction in Egypt, France, Palestine and Salonica for which service he had been awarded a Distinguished Service Order, Military Cross, Order of the Nile, Order of Leopold of Belgium, Belgian Croix de Guerre and Legion of Honour, and had been mentioned in despatches six times. By the end of the war he had become one of the youngest Lieutenant Colonels (subsequently Wing Commanders) in the Royal Air Force. Brand, born in Kimberley on 25th May 1893, also joined the Royal Flying Corps, serving with 1 Squadron and ultimately commanding 51 and 112 Squadrons. With twelve enemy aircraft destroyed he had been awarded the Distinguished Service Order, the Military Cross and the Distinguished Flying Cross. At the time of their flight both pilots were still serving officers in the Royal Air Force but were seconded to the South African Air Force for the journey. It is interesting to note that at this transitional stage of Britain’s air forces their ranks were described differently; Flight showed the pilots as being Lieutenant Colonel and Captain (later Major) – their RFC ranks – while The Aeroplane gave them their later RAF ranks of Wing Commander and Flight Lieutenant.

With Van Ryneveld and Brand at the controls and Rolls Royce mechanics Sheratt and Burton in the cabin, Silver Queen left Brooklands at 07:30 on 4th February 1920, heading directly for Turin in Northern Italy.

After climbing through the overcast of the English Channel they then flew for four hours in thick cloud and, being unsure of their position, landed on the race course of Mellisant in central France to check their whereabouts. They were only 15 minutes on the ground before they took off again and crossed the Alps at 12,500 feet, close to Mont Blanc, landing in Turin 8 hours and 50 minutes after leaving Brooklands – a cracking start. But engine trouble had already started and both pilots and mechanics stayed up all night repairing a leak in the radiator of the port engine, the repairs taking until mid-morning. They eventually took off at 11:30 for Rome. Arriving overhead the capital van Ryneveld decided to carry on to Foggia, but an hour later he was back landing at Rome’s Centocello airfield, having encountered strong headwinds which would have prevented him landing at Foggia before dark.

32

JANNIE SMUTS’ BOYS Next morning they were airborne mid-morning and heading for Taranto which they reached after a rough flight over the Apennines during which the turbulence was so severe that the Vimy was tossed up and down, sometimes as much as 600 feet at a time, but they landed safely at Taranto’s Gioja del Colle airfield just over three hours later. It was here that they took one of the most momentous decisions of the entire flight; they would press on overnight across the Mediterranean. Weather was excellent at Taranto and they received a good forecast for the crossing so they took off at 21:30, heading for Crete and eventually Sollum on the Libyan/Egyptian border, a distance of 757 miles and, apart from passing over Crete, entirely over the sea. It was to prove a nightmare flight.

Van Ryneveld and Brand attend the preparation of Vickers Vimy Silver Queen for the Cape flight.

Half an hour after leaving Italy they ran into headwinds that increased to gale force strength, creating appallingly-bumpy conditions so that by the time they were abeam the Greek island of Zante they were flying into the teeth of a full gale, in pitch blackness and making hardly any headway. After two hours the gale abated sufficiently for them to make progress, but Crete passed by unseen in the cloud and darkness. To add to their discomfort and anxiety the instrument lighting in the open cockpit failed and they had to conduct their navigation by the light of an electric torch. Dogged tiredness soon added to their problems, van Ryneveld keeping himself awake by slapping his face with his gloves while trying to stop Brand falling asleep by repeatedly shining the torch into his eyes. Nor did the mechanics escape the discomfort, sitting in the dark strapped to their seats in the body of the aircraft, bruised and aching from the constant buffeting.

33

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE Handing control from one to the other, at 4 o’clock in the morning the two pilots struggled on; a second storm battered them and they climbed to 9,000 feet, skimming the towering cloud tops, desperately hoping that their course was good but scarcely able to check their heading in the failing light of the torch. Eventually dawn broke; van Ryneveld was to say later that it was the most beautiful dawn they had ever experienced.

Having had no landmarks by which to judge the distance they had travelled, and not knowing what their groundspeed was throughout the long night, they descended to 1,000 feet, peering into the gloom for a sight of land, but all they saw for miles around was the heaving sea. On and on they flew, holding their southerly course, becoming desperately worried that their fuel would run out, the minutes crawling by like hours. At last, one and a half hours after dawn had broken they caught their first glimpse of the north African coastline; immediately their spirits rose and they set course for Derna, the most northern airfield on the Libyan coast where they landed at 08:30, eleven hours after leaving Taranto. The British press greeted the news ecstatically.

The Daily Telegraph observed that the flight was only two hours shorter than Alcock and Brown’s transatlantic flight, adding Few finer incidents than this have been known in the records of aviation, and the pluck and endurance of the South African pilots assure them of the rapt interest of the public in every stage of the flight.

The Times, in a leading article, praised the pilots of the Silver Queen, adding that they had displayed peculiar gallantry during the whole of their magnificent effort and their flight across the Mediterranean would long be remembered in the annals of aviation.

But van Ryneveld and Brand were not even a third of the way to the Cape, and not even at the real starting point – Cairo; they had to press on. Finding that they had sufficient petrol remaining in their tanks, and despite being dog tired, they took off from Derna after only an hour, landing two hours later at Sollum to refuel, but managing to lose their tailskid on the rough surface. A new skid was made from parts taken from an old Ford car. The repairs cost them almost two days delay but did give them time to recover from the hardships of the Mediterranean crossing. They took off for Cairo after lunch on 9th February, following the North African coast in yet more driving rain and only managed to reach Cairo after dark, landing by the light of flares and once again dazed and deafened by the storms encountered on the way.

Their arrival in Cairo was greeted with great excitement in South Africa. Now the race to Cape Town was really on. Cockerell and Broome were well down the Nile at Station 6, some 640 miles – but no more than a day’s flying – ahead, while Brackley and Tymms were still stuck in Brindisi awaiting their replacement propeller from England. Wasting no time, and with Burton’s place on the Vimy taken by Flight Sergeant Newman, an RAF mechanic, van Ryneveld took the Silver Queen off almost at midnight on the 10th February, intending to make a non-stop flight to Khartoum. With a good tail-wind they made excellent progress down the Nile in the cool night air, reaching Korosko at about 05:00 next morning, having covered the 530 miles at a ground speed of over 100 mph, and with The Times Vimy at Jebelein only 680 miles ahead. Then disaster struck! The temperature on the starboard engine had risen above the danger point of 100 degrees and by the light of their torches the pilots could see that the radiator cock was open and what remained of the water was spurting out of the rapidly overheating engine. There was nothing for it but to make an immediate precautionary landing before the engine seized. In the half-light of dawn van Ryneveld brought the Vimy in to a perfect touch-down on the only open patch of sand among the hills. All seemed well but unseen by the pilots as they rolled forward in the half-light was a heap of boulders directly ahead of them and with a great crash the Vimy smashed into them. None of the crew was hurt but the aircraft was destroyed beyond repair leaving, amazingly, both engines intact.

Sensing keen disappointment throughout South Africa, Smuts immediately arranged for the RAF in Cairo to place another Vimy at the disposal of van Ryneveld and Brand, who were undeterred by their crash. The engines (which had been specially modified for the Africa trip), the long range tanks and other special fittings from Silver Queen, were all dismantled from the wreckage, sent to Assouan and railed up to Cairo. There RAF mechanics worked day and night installing them into a standard Vimy which was then named Silver Queen II and was ready to fly by 22nd February, eleven days after the crash at Korosko.

At 08:10 on 22nd February, Van Ryneveld and Brand, with Sheratt and Flight Sergeant Newman, took off from Cairo for Khartoum. Meanwhile the Handley-Page 0/400 had arrived in Cairo on 20th February, while the Vimy Commercial had reached Nimule, on the Uganda border, and the RAF’s Vimy was standing by in Cairo sportingly waiting for Silver Queen II and the 0/400 to depart. It was still a four- horse race!

34

JANNIE SMUTS’ BOYS

The crash of Silver Queen at Korosko

Headwinds slowed down Silver Queen II to a groundspeed of about 65 mph so Van Ryneveld decided to land at Wadi Halfa where they spent the night, flying on to Khartoum where they landed by flares at nightfall on the 23rd. At Khartoum the crew discovered that the Rolls Royce engines were exhibiting the same water jacket leaks that had plagued Cockerell and Broome’s Vimy so Van Ryneveld decided to change the defective cylinders instead of repairing them, the RAF holding a large stock of spares. He also loaded an extra supply of cylinders with the intention of giving them to Cockerell and Broome should they meet up on the way south.

On 25th February they took off for Mongalla some 720 miles south, initially following the Nile and then, when they reached Malakal, heading due south across 320 miles of Sudd swamp and open grassland. Once over the grassland they experienced some of the bumpiest conditions in which they had ever flown, with the Vimy dropping 1,500 – even 2,000 – feet, so that at times they wondered whether they could keep the aircraft in the air at all. This turbulence they attributed to their flying over huge areas of burnt and then unburnt grassland which gave rise to serious atmospheric instability. They finally made Mongalla in the midafternoon, making their customary low pass over the airfield to check the runway for obstructions. To their horror, when they opened the throttles to go round for a landing the engines failed to respond, only half the cylinders firing in the extreme heat, and they staggered along at tree top height finally collapsing into a heavy landing during which, fortunately, no damage was done, but it was a close call! The same day spelled the end of Brackley and Tymms’ efforts when, as described in the previous chapter, they crashed at El Shereik some 900 miles to the north.

Undeterred by their experiences, van Ryneveld and Brand were airborne at 06:30 next morning and heading for Kisumu when they experienced a new African hazard – dust-devils rising sometimes to 8,000 feet! Their landing and re-fuelling at Kisumu went without hitch and, at 7 o’clock next morning, they were on their way to Tabora, now hard on the heels of The Times Vimy for which they now started to keep an eye open as they flew southwards. Another spell of engine trouble caused them to land at the emergency landing ground at Shirati on the shores of Lake Victoria, 3,680 feet above sea level and the highest landing field they had yet encountered. Instead of landing at Tabora, van Ryneveld decided to push on direct to Abercorn in 35

THE RACE FOR THE CAPE order to make up for the time lost at Shirati. Had they landed at Tabora they would have seen the wreck of Cockerell and Broome’s Vimy which had crashed on the edge of the airfield the previous afternoon. But with no means of aerial communication they had flown past Tabora in blissful ignorance without seeing it. What a meeting it would have made had the two teams come face to face at this historic moment!

Only at Abercorn did van Ryneveld hear of the crash of Cockerell and Broome. Here he decided to discard every non-essential piece of equipment in order to lighten the aircraft which was labouring in the thinner air of the high-altitude airfields. With The Times machine out of the race he no longer needed to carry all the spare cylinders for Cockerell and Broome’s machine with which he had so gallantly weighed his aeroplane down. He also had to consider that Abercorn was 5,500 feet above sea level and taking off full of fuel and spare parts at this altitude would be fraught with danger.

The distance from Abercorn to Broken Hill was 435 miles and the flight would have been straightforward had further engine problems not arisen an hour and a half after take-off. Now a fuel blockage to three cylinders of one engine caused them to lose power which they could scarcely afford to do at that altitude.

Lower and lower they descended with a forced landing looking very probable but, as they met denser air, they managed to level the aeroplane out and at midday they made a safe landing on the emergency landing ground at Ndola. How they must have congratulated themselves for lightening the aeroplane at Abercorn!

Without the pressure of competition from other aircraft the remaining 1,600 miles to the Cape should have been just a matter of keeping flying but further perils lay ahead for the South Africans. Heavy rains waterlogged the airfield at Ndola, causing a two-day delay, and they only reached Broken Hill on the morning of 2nd March and Livingstone later that afternoon. Hundreds of Africans flocked to the aerodrome to see the “bird-machine” arrive and excitedly helped to extricate Silver Queen II when she became bogged down in the muddy airfield. They helped further by tramping down the grass on the waterlogged runway in order to allow the aeroplane to take off for Bulawayo where she arrived just after midday on 5th March. Now the great Limpopo river and the South African border lay just 170 miles to the south; for the next few days they would be making a triumphant series of flights across their home country to Cape Town. All the South African cities with landing grounds on the remaining route prepared excitedly for their arrival. But fate would have it otherwise…

Taking off from Bulawayo racecourse on the morning of Saturday 6th March, a height of 4,485 feet above sea level, Silver Queen II laboured into the thin air and, failing to climb when in the lee of a low line of hills, sank into the bush and was completely wrecked. Suffering only scratches and bruises the crew emerged from

The crash of Silver Queen II at Bulawayo

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JANNIE SMUTS’ BOYS the wreckage with their hopes in ruins. General Smuts, however, had other ideas. He was still determined that his pilots should achieve the distinction of being the first airmen to have flown from London to Cape Town, so he sent a signal to the disconsolate pilots that another aircraft would be sent from Pretoria to Bulawayo to allow them to finish the course. Major Court-Treatt, Officer Commanding 3rd RAF Survey Party in Pretoria, who had been responsible for creating all the landing grounds from Abercorn to the Cape, was similarly determined that his work should be crowned by an early South African success. The RAF had gifted South Africa 100 aeroplanes at the end of the First World War. Of these, 49 were DH 9s, a two-seater biplane fighter with a 200 HP Siddley Puma engine, and many were still in their packing cases. From these Court-Treatt selected one, and under his supervision South African Railways mechanics at Roberts Heights worked day and night to assemble the aircraft in record time; it was declared airworthy on 15th March. Next day, piloted by Lieutenant Holthouse and navigated by Court-Treatt himself, the DH9, now named Voortrekker, flew non-stop to Bulawayo in five hours where it was handed over to van Ryneveld.

Not wishing to be further delayed, the two South Africans left Bulawayo on 17th March for Pretoria, landing en route at Serowe and Palapye in Bechuanaland to thank Chief Khama and the Bamangwato people for all their work in constructing those aerodromes. They then flew to Pretoria where they received a heroes’ welcome and next day to Johannesburg for a similar reception. Finally they flew to van Ryneveld’s home town of Bloemfontein and then on to Beaufort West before finally landing at Youngsfield in Wynberg, Cape Town’s aerodrome, where they arrived at 1600 on 20th March, to a tumultuous welcome from General Smuts himself, Lord Buxton, the Governor General, and a large gathering of military and civic officials.

Voortrekker landing at Beaufort West, last stop before Cape Town

Forty-five days after leaving Brooklands, of which 109 hours and 30 minutes was flying time, Pierre van Rynveld and Quintin Brand had finally reached Cape Town, the first aviators to fly to the Cape from England.

Despite this achievement, they were disqualified from collecting Lord Northcliffe’s £10,000 purse, as they failed to arrive in the same aeroplane in which they started, leaving two crashed machines on the way. Their courageous flight was rightly hailed as a triumph by the world’s popular press and they were each justly rewarded with £2,500 (£71,000 today) by an appreciative South African government. But with a trail of wrecked aircraft strewn down the African continent it was hardly a convincing way of persuading Britain and South Africa that their capitals could now be joined by aerial travel.

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THE RACE FOR THE CAPE

Brand and Van Ryneveld with Voortrekker

The aeronautical press was critical. Stanley Spooner, editor of Flight, concluded that trans-African flying was still beyond the technical capabilities of current aircraft; the climatic conditions encountered proved to be far worse than expected and the ground organisations were far from being adequate for passenger services.

C. G. Grey, editor of The Aeroplane, famous – and respected – for his outspoken views, railed at the government. The flights had proved that a single aircraft was incapable of carrying out the whole voyage. It was utterly irresponsible to fly long distances over water unless in a flying boat. Current engines were not up to coping with the hot and high conditions which required high compression engines with superchargers.

He concluded that the performance of the pilots demonstrated that Teutonic determination goes far to overcome (government) lack of inspiration and foresight!

Grey was to be proved right. It would be another twelve years before a London to Cape Town mail and passenger service was opened by Imperial Airways. The route was divided into sectors for each of which the most appropriate airliner produced by the British aircraft industry was used. Flying boats dominated the Mediterranean sector and the southern stretch of the Nile. The whole trip took 12 days. For the adventurous traveller it was an exciting development but, compared with the reliable and leisurely two- week-long sea passage from Southampton to Cape Town which the great Union Castle Line performed each week, it was hardly faster and was expensive, uncomfortable and risky. It would take a further two decades of development before the airlines began to give ship-owners serious competition.

As for van Ryneveld and Brand, both pilots were knighted for their achievement. General van Ryneveld headed up the South African Air Force as Director Air Services until 1933 when he was made Chief of the General Staff of the Union Defence Force, a position he held until his retirement in 1949. Brand went back to the Royal Air Force, ending a long and distinguished career as an Air Vice Marshal and retiring in 1943.

And the DH 9 Voortrekker? She was ignominiously shot down by striking white mine-workers during the 1922 Rand rebellion.

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JANNIE SMUTS’ BOYS

The Rolls Royce Eagle VIII engine as fitted to both Vimys showing the water-jacketed cylinders and cooling water piping that caused so much trouble under African conditions.

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THE RACE FOR THE CAPE

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Race for the Cape - Cover - Final 2:Layout 1 07/07/2016 10:01 Page 1

The Race foR The cape

For the first time Martin Barraclough tells the complete story how, throughout the past century, and first decade of the 2000s, British and South African pilots conquered the air routes from London to Cape Town with ever-increasing speeds.

His history starts in 1920 with the creation by the Royal Air Force and the colonial administration of forty three landing grounds from Cairo to Cape Town – later known as the Imperial Route – to allow aeroplanes to fly the length of the continent. It closes with the continuing challenge to current aviators to beat the FAI’s class records, or aspire to the ultimate challenge set by Alex Henshaw, one of Britain’s most famous racing and test pilots, of a solo return flight of 10,000 miles over some of the world’s most inhospitable country and through some of the planet’s most hostile weather.

Profusely illustrated with contemporary photographs, maps and logbook entries the book comprises a chapter for each record-breaking flight as well as a chapter on the many failed attempts.

Published in co-operation with Prepare2go (www.prepare2go.com), who specialise in extraordinary logistics – specifically, the movement of people and equipment in, out and through politically and/or physically difficult places. Predominantly engaged on land and sea, they have a specialist aviation section, hence their support for Steve Noujaim’s world record-breaking flight and this history of trans-African aviation endeavour which tradition they continue to follow with the VintageAirRally Crete2Cape. More of the Rally at www.vintageairrally.com.

Martin Barr aclough

In the 1920s and ’30s the route between London and Cape Town was, with the Atlantic crossing and the route to Australia and New Zealand, the proving ground for British aircraft and British and South African pilots. Household names such as van Ryneveld and Brand, Caspareuthus, Amy Johnson, Jim Mollison, Tom Campbell Black, Arthur Clouston and Alex Henshaw all vied with their fellow aviators for the honour of wearing this crown.

T he R ace foR The cape a history of the Record-Breaking flights Between London and cape Town 1920-2010

Mar tin Barr aclough

Limited Edition Copy for the

Martin Barraclough learned to fly in Kenya in 1953 at the age of 17.

After five years of bush-flying in southern Tanganyika, during which he flew the length of Africa, he returned to England and joined the Tiger Club at Redhill where he was one of their regular display and aerobatic pilots in the 1960s. In 1970 he bought his first aeroplane and then, in the mid-70s, joined the emerging world of vintage aircraft.

After 20 years of owning and displaying classic aircraft such as the Percival Mew Gull, de Havilland Rapide and Dragonfly and Miles Hawk Speed Six, he re-joined the air-show circuit, flying a Yak 52 with the Red Stars Racing Team. In 2010 he managed Steve Noujaim’s record-breaking flights between London and Cape Town. An early member of The Air Squadron and a Liveryman of the Honorable Company of Air Pilots, he is still an active pilot, operating a Piper Super Cub off his own grass strip in Hampshire.

Without any military or commercial flying he has accumulated over 4,000 hours of flying on over 70 different types. He has owned, either solely or jointly, eleven aeroplanes and has flown in formation with his two pilot sons. When not flying he was a ship-owner.