The war really proved that the parachute is a life saving apparatus for use with airplanes. Early in 1918 the allied pilots reported that German pilots were using parachutes to escape from their planes whenever they were out of control or set on fire. This was the beginning of insistent demands on the part of our allied pilots for parachute equipment. The A.E.F. tried to produce a satisfactory parachute by combining the good feature of several chutes already in existence. All of these, however, were very bulky and heavy and hard to get on the plane.
During the summer of 1918, the U.S. Air Service officials appealed to Washington for good airplane parachutes. A large number of tests were made. Finally, after combining all the good points of foreign and American chutes, a satisfactory free type of parachute was developed. By free type I mean the kind of parachute which is entirely independent of the plane.
Stories often come out in the newspapers about parachutes that fail to open. What probably really happens is that men who make jumps from planes are killed before they are able to pull the rip cord which opens the parachute. In the past there was always a great deal of danger in testing out a new type of chute, but now they have been developed to such a high degree of efficiency that there are practically no fatalities. Each parachute that is used by the government is repacked every month and tested every six months.
Altogether, about 57 lives have been saved by parachutes in government service. In every instance the jump took place because of fog, engine failure while flying over unfavorable country, collision of planes or other very definite emergencies. They say in the service that any flyer who jumps to save his life becomes a member of the “Caterpillar Club.” This is because the parachute is made entirely of silk, and silk comes from caterpillars. All the 57 members of this club feel that their lives have been saved by the silkworm caterpillar!
There is a saying in the service about the parachute: “If you need it and haven’t got it, you’ll never need it again!” That just about sums up its value to aviation.
For two of the last days we were on tactical maneuvers with the other branches. Half of our number were assigned to defend the bombers and observation planes while the other half attacked them. When we met, a lively combat ensued and the air would be full of pursuit planes in every conceivable position, each trying to get on the tail of an enemy plane without being first shot down itself.
At night in the barracks we would argue about which side won the war, but whenever one of us would demonstrate to the enemy that he had been shot down in battle, another would interpose the claim that he had put the attacking ship out of commission several minutes previous to the combat.
When graduation day arrived eighteen of us remained of the hundred and four cadets who started the course at Brooks a year before. We were presented with our wings and commissioned second lieutenants in the Air Service Reserve Corps. That night we gave a farewell dinner in San Antonio and for the last time assembled together.
The next day we departed from Kelly.
VII
I Join the Air Mail
I went by rail to St. Louis and took an OX-5 Standard out for a barnstorming trip in Illinois, Missouri and Iowa. The Post Office Department had just advertised a number of contract air mail routes for bid, one of which was between St. Louis and Chicago by way of Springfield, IL. I decided to barnstorm around the country until it was determined which bidder would be assigned the contract. The Robertson Aircraft Corp. had placed a bid and offered me the position of chief pilot if they were successful in getting the contract.
After returning from Iowa I flew on several flying circus dates and made a few short cross country flights to nearby cities.
On June second, while testing a commercial plane built at Lambert Field, I was forced to make a second emergency jump. I had flown the ship for a few minutes the previous week and on this occasion was testing it for various maneuvers. I had completed everything except tailspins, but when I attempted a right spin the plane refused even to start, so after a second attempt with the same result I gave that up and tried one to the left. The ship fell in easily and, when I reversed the controls after a half turn, came out at once. I then put it into a second left spin and held the controls in a spinning position during two complete turns. When I reversed them they had no apparent effect and using the engine was of no assistance. After trying for fifteen hundred feet to bring the ship out of the spin, I rolled over the right side of the cockpit and, since I had jumped only about three hundred and fifty feet above the ground, I pulled the rip cord as soon as the stabilizer had passed. The chute opened quickly but while it was functioning, I had fallen faster than the spinning ship. On its next revolution the plane was headed directly towards the chute. How close it passed will never be known, for the risers leading up from my harness were twisted and swung me around as the ship passed. However, less than twenty-five feet intervened between the wing and my parachute.
I watched the plane crash in a grain field and turned my attention to landing. A strong wind was drifting me towards a row of high tension poles and it was necessary to partially collapse the chute in order to hasten the descent and land before striking the wires. I landed rather solidly in a potato patch
