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CHAPTER II

During the latter half of 1912, with the buoyancy of the enthusiast and no idea of the meteoric way in which his latent abilities would be developed, Harry embarked on the flying career on which his heart was set, at a time when the spirit of quantity production had not descended to meet the necessities of war and the aeronautical fraternity was happy in its smallness.

Even when he had carried out not a few, but many, flights of a nature unprecedented for a beginner, Harry was known only to a very few near associates; and he eschewed publicity not only before, but also after, he was drawn automatically and unavoidably within its fold. Fortunately, Harry had no cause to sever a well-made alliance with Mr. Sopwith, who was quick in recognising the genius of his protégé, as a pilot then, and as an engineer later. Had circumstances been less promising, and if Harry had elected to seek work as a pilot elsewhere, the scanty knowledge of his early experiences that had been disseminated would have stood him in little stead, for in 1912 the experiences of most pilots were generally reported in considerable detail; and here would have been a man with a brilliant record who had deliberately contrived to have as few papers as possible to show for it. A few genuine Press reports are surely of some value to a youngster who, looking for employment, has to make an impression, and particularly if he is not a great talker. But one cannot blame Harry for this seeming inadvertence, for he never required such testimonials.

Harry first arrived at Brooklands at a time when things were literally moving rather slowly and the hub of British enterprise in aviation was showing a pronounced tendency to deviate to Hendon, whither many of the bright spirits that were formerly the life of Brooklands had already departed. Mr. T. O. M. Sopwith (now C.B.E.), who gave Harry his start in aviation, had recently returned from a successful American tour, during which he had participated in several motor-boat races and incidentally had commissioned the well-known American boat-builder, Burgess, to construct, under licence from the Wright Brothers, an aeroplane, known as a Burgess-Wright biplane then, and as a Sopwith-Wright after reconstruction by its owner in England.

As it was on this machine Harry made his reputation as a pilot of the first rank, a few references to its design and construction are not out of place. The original machine built by Burgess to Sopwith’s instructions, contrary to the customary Wright practice, was fitted with controls of the Farman type and a Gnome rotary engine. Having brought the machine to England, Sopwith replaced the Gnome engine by a British-built A.B.C. of 40 h.p., and proceeded to manufacture in his sheds at Brooklands duplicates of all the component parts of the aeroplane. Thus the machine, when ultimately reconstructed, became all-British in conformity with the requirements of the competition for the British Empire Michelin Cup No. 1. The machine had twin propellers, driven through the medium of chains connected with the single engine, and on the right-hand side of the latter was arranged the pilot’s seat. The machine was therefore of a distinctly novel type, at any rate so far as concerned this country, where few Wright machines had been seen. One innovation added to the design by Mr. Sopwith (to protect the pilot from the wind) was a nacelle, resembling in appearance a side-car body, and it is probable that without this feature Harry would not have been able to put up as many long flights as he did. Passengers in this machine enjoyed a particularly novel sensation in sitting beside the engine instead of in front of or behind it, and in landing they received the impression that the chassis had collapsed, so low was the build of the machine as compared with other contemporaneous types.

Four days after he had his first lesson in the art of flying, Harry flew alone in the Sopwith-Farman machine. His remarkable genius was thus revealed at the very beginning of his career in aviation; and by Sopwith, his tutor, he was afforded full scope for the development of his abilities. Within a month he qualified for his R.Ae.C. Aviator’s Certificate, the number of which was 297; and so rapid was his progress that when he successfully essayed his flight for the British duration record he had only put up a total flying time of about twenty hours.

After obtaining his certificate, Harry lost no time in pursuing the purely sporting side of flying, and on Saturday, October 5th, 1912, he participated in a Quick-Starting Competition, at Brooklands, on the Sopwith-Farman biplane. There were eight other competitors. Harry tied for second place with the late Harold Barnwell, who was piloting a Vickers-Farman biplane, their times being 6 seconds. An interesting circumstance of this contest was that on running off—or, rather, flying off—the dead heat, Harry and Barnwell both completed the evolution in faster time than E. C. Pashley, the accredited winner of the race, whose time was 5⅖th seconds. Harry’s time for this second performance was 5 seconds and Barnwell’s 4⅘th seconds. Sopwith, who competed on two machines, a Sopwith-Farman and a Sopwith-Tractor, for which his times were 7 seconds and 7⅖th seconds respectively, had the doubtful pleasure of being beaten by his pupil.

Harry essayed his first flight on the Burgess-Wright, on which he was subsequently to achieve the British Duration Record, on October 15th, 1912. Being already accustomed to the Farman type controls, he found no difficulty in handling the machine, and after completing a few circuits and practising landings he felt thoroughly at home on it. The following morning at 6.51 a.m. he set out on a test of 3 hours 31 minutes in competition for the British Empire Michelin Cup No. 1 and the £500 prize. The Cup had previously been won by Moore-Brabazon in 1909 and twice by Cody, in 1910 and 1911. In the 1912 competition a continuous flight of not less than five hours’ duration had to be made, the award going to the competitor remaining the longest time in the air in a single flight without touching the ground. Although unsuccessful as a qualifying flight in the competition, Harry’s first attempt, lasting as it did for three-and-a-half hours, on a machine of a novel type which he had flown only for the first time on the previous day, was a most creditable achievement, especially, too, for a pilot who had won his brevet only a month previously. Such a flight, in such a remote period in the annals of aviation as 1912, would have been considered no mean performance for the most experienced of pilots. The flight, which was carried out at Brooklands at an average height of 500 feet, was terminated owing to the fracture of a valve-spring. Harry made two other unsuccessful attempts to win the Cup, the first lasting 2 hours 43 minutes, and terminating abruptly owing to a sudden gale, and the second of 3 hours 28 minutes, ending owing to rain.

As the Michelin Competition definitely closed on October 31st, there was no time to lose, and on Thursday, the 24th, Harry put up a flight of 8 hours 23 minutes, which proved to be the British Duration Record held by him for several years. On the same day a flight of 7½ hours was made by his friend Raynham, who held the British Duration Record for a brief spell of 1 hour 35 minutes, having started and finished before Harry. Lord Charles Beresford was among those who witnessed these record flights. I cannot do better than reproduce the following account communicated to the Aero by its special correspondent in November, 1913.

“We were astir early in the Sopwith camp on Thursday, October 24th. Not that this was the first early-morning attempt on the Michelin prize. The same thing had been going on for a week past, and no fewer than three times in this week had the new Sopwith twin-screw A.B.C.-engined biplane sallied forth. Hawker, the pilot, had been chosen to fly the Sopwith ‘bus,’ and his determination, skill, and enthusiasm through this and the previous attempts justified the faith put in him for such a task. Hawker is a young Australian, and, like his fellow countrymen Busteed, Pickles, and Harrison, he shows very great promise as a flier. Joining the Sopwith school as a mechanic, he was allowed to learn on the orthodox school type Farman, and he early displayed his aptitude for this work by going up to 1,000 feet and remaining there for fifty minutes on the fourth day of his training.

“Of his three previous attempts on the Michelin Duration Competition little need be said; the first one was terminated after 3 hours 31 minutes by a valve-spring breaking. On the second attempt the wind, after 2 hours 43 minutes proved too much for further flight, and the third attempt ended after 3 hours 28 minutes in a rainstorm, which soaked the magneto through, and temporarily ended its career.

“With serious designs on ‘durating,’ the Sopwith camp was awake and bustling, and excitement ran high when it was seen that Raynham was to make a simultaneous attempt on the military Avro biplane (enclosed body type), fitted with a 60 h.p. Green engine. Hawker got away just before 7 a.m., but was brought down again after a flight lasting no more than twenty minutes by the magneto cutting out occasionally. Apparently it had not recovered from the effects of its previous soaking. This contingency had been anticipated, however, and a brand-new British-made Bosch had been ordered previously, which, however, had only arrived late the night before. The old ‘mag.’ was hurriedly removed and the new one fitted, but even minor details of this kind take time, and in this case the time was all too precious. In timing the magneto it was found to run the wrong way round, and it had to be dismantled and a new commutator fitted.

“Meanwhile Raynham got away on the Avro at 7.40, which meant eventually a start of 1h. 35m. He seemed to have a little trouble in carrying his load, as he had to make three attempts to get off, and he was flying very cabré through the earlier part of his flight. The Green engine, however, sounded serious, solemn, and steady, and seemed to inspire confidence. Hawker made a start at 9.15 without even testing or trying the magneto in any way.

“Then commenced a magnificent and exciting contest which lasted till well after dark.

“The A.B.C. spluttered a little at first for want of a warming-up, but by the time it had done one circuit of Brooklands its revolutions were up to 2,000 per minute, and Hawker was able to throttle down slightly. There was a tense feeling all round, and an ache in the heart of the Sopwith crew that the magneto had not been properly fitted during the previous night. Hawker’s handicap was realised more and more when it was found that if Raynham remained aloft until within 1 hour and 35 minutes of the limiting hours of the competition (which were from sunrise till one hour after sunset), Hawker could not possibly win.

“There was a stream of people to and from the anemometer throughout the day, which instrument happily showed the atmospheric conditions to be little short of ideal. The speed of the wind during the day did not vary more than five to eight miles per hour.

“Raynham, with his wide experience, took the greatest possible advantage of this, and made a really splendid flight, with the Green throttled down to the very slowest revolutions that the machine would fly with, and with the tail dropping in what appeared to be a fearful position to the onlookers. Hawker, with tail well up (and his machine lifts the loads remarkably easily), was flying steadily round at a height of about 400 feet, the A.B.C. emitting a steady hum. Raynham, on the other hand, was flying very low, and on some occasions was only about 30 feet high. By about eleven o’clock he evidently had become extremely bored with pottering round and round, because he commenced a series of antics round the sheds, and at one time about half-way round a turn he suddenly doubled back on his own track, and did a turn or two round the wrong way, all the time, however, with his engine ticking round at something like 950 revolutions per minute only, the appearance of the machine being terrifying to behold to those who dread sideslips.

“Hawker all this time was steadily plodding away, making the safest flight possible, and the very machine had a look of determination about it. The two slow-speed propellers turned solemnly round, and the engine explosions were lost in a continual buzz through the high engine speed. That he was out to win if possible was obvious from every movement. Raynham’s champions grew a little nervous over the flippancy of their pilot, and a shutter of one of the sheds was quickly requisitioned, on which were painted the words in large letters: ‘Fly higher.’ It had not much effect, however, although it served apparently to sober him a little.

“Towards one o’clock impatient questions as to how much oil and petrol they were carrying began to circulate amongst the onlookers, and it appeared that Raynham’s oil supply was likely to run out before anything else. On more than one occasion the Green suddenly slowed down in revolutions, only to pick up again just as quickly. Someone pointed out later on that the short pipes coupled to the exhaust ports in the cylinders of the Green no longer emitted the puffs of smoke that had been prominent in the earlier stages of the flight, and misgivings as to the oil supply began to travel abroad.

“Excitement reached fever-heat between two and three o’clock, the strain of watching the two machines circle round hour after hour becoming intense. It was not even like a motor race, where one can see fairly early in the run who is likely to be the winner. In this conflict, speed did not even count, and the contest might terminate any second by either running out of fuel or by an engine stoppage. Little work was done in the sheds, and every few minutes mechanics would appear at the various doors to find and call out to their mates that both machines were still up.

“‘Raynham’s down!’ The cry spread across the ground at about 3.10 p.m., and a frantic rush was made to the front of the sheds, and sure enough he was just on the point of touching. He terminated his flight at 3.11½ p.m. exactly, having been in the air 7 hours 31½ minutes—truly a splendid performance. We all rushed across the ground, and Fred May, of the Green Engine Co., jumped into his car and came tearing up to the spot. Raynham climbed out, looking somewhat tired, but apparently none the worse for the 7½ hours’ toil. He said that the oil had run out, and though he had held on as long as he could, the engine had been dropping in revolutions for the last half-hour, and he did not want to risk it seizing up altogether.

“Up to the very minute of Raynham’s landing it is doubtful if a single person on Brooklands would have given a shilling for Hawker’s chance of putting up better time than Raynham with the latter’s hour and a half start; but things now changed, and as all eyes were turned upwards and ears listening to catch the rhythmic beating of the engine, the question went round: ‘Will he keep up for another two hours?’ The engine sounded happy enough, and if nothing happened there was no reason why he should not, as he had a big load of fuel. The excitement now began steadily to rise as the minutes were ticked off, and to the Sopwith enthusiasts every minute seemed an age. They all went back to find something to do that would pass the time more quickly, but had to come out again with dread in their hearts that they might find Hawker ‘taxi-ing’ along the ground.

“Gradually the time went along, and Hawker was still steadily travelling at his 400 feet altitude. Then Sopwith appeared on the scene at about four o’clock, and brought out his 70 h.p. Gnome Tractor biplane with the intention of cheering Hawker up a little. Taking Charteris as a passenger, he did one or two circuits, climbing up to Hawker’s level, then very skilfully cut across a sharp turn and came alongside. Hawker, in fear of not lasting out the time, had throttled down to the smallest amount he could fly with so as to economise petrol and oil; his machine was therefore very slow, and Sopwith had to switch off and dive a little so as not to pass him. The two on the Tractor waved frantically, and shouted encouragements, which, of course, Hawker could not hear at all, but which he undoubtedly understood. Down planed the Tractor again, leaving Hawker with just another half-hour to go through to equal Raynham’s time (which, by the way, was for 1 hour 35 minutes the British Duration Record).

“The next half hour was the worst period experienced by a great number of the Brooklands clan, and it is doubtful if any other event ever held on the ground has caused so much interest. Tea was forgotten altogether, and exact minutes and seconds were in the greatest demand, everybody walking about watch in hand. After ten more minutes had passed it was observed that Hawker had throttled really to the very limit so as not to run the slightest risk of running short of petrol. The machine was flying at a terrible angle, with the tail pointing strongly earthwards, and the spectators began to feel nervous. Another shutter was acquired, on which was whitewashed: ‘Keep your tail up,’ and this was displayed for the pilot, who, however, took but little notice of it.

“Gradually the minutes passed, and a little crowd gathered round the timekeeper, who slowly (horribly slowly to some) counted 9 minutes, 8 minutes, and so on. ‘One more circuit will do it!’ someone cried, and it did, and as the last seconds passed away, never to be recalled, a huge sigh escaped from the lips of everybody. To some it was a sigh of relief, to others perhaps not, but now the crisis was over everybody was sporting enough to express admiration for a very plucky flight.

“Hawker had evidently had his eye glued to the clock which he carried on board, for now his tail was up high again, the machine sped away full of life, and the time also slipped by much faster now that the face of the watch was not being scrutinised so carefully. Another half hour passed and darkness began to close in. It had been arranged that a huge petrol fire should be lit when it was time for Hawker to come down, an hour after sunset being 5.48 p.m. It was, however, quite dark at 5.20, and a difficult problem arose in the minds of those on the ground. It was naturally wished to make the flight as long as possible, and therefore to light the bonfire then would have been to bring him down unnecessarily early; on the other hand, complete darkness might quite possibly cause him to lose himself. A better arrangement would have been to light one fire half an hour before the specified finish, another one a quarter of an hour later, and a third when the time was up, leaving the whole three for him to land by.

“Any misgivings that may have remained in the minds of a few regarding the condition of the engine were quickly put at rest by Hawker at about 5.30 opening the throttle wide and shooting up to between 1,200 and 1,500 feet in so short a space of time as would have made some of our military competitors envious. It was evident he did this to run no risk of petrol running out when he was over the sewage farm or behind the sheds at a low altitude. It was now quite dark, and wanted but ten minutes to the time limit. At this stage one was impressed by the appearance of the long flame from the exhaust. The exhaust pipes were apparently quite red hot the whole time.

“Suddenly Hawker was seen to be intent on making a landing without further delay, and he came down in a perfectly straight line from the far end of the ground with the engine about half throttled. He made a very shallow angle of descent, apparently with the intention of striking as gradually as possible, as the earth could not be seen at all. Those in charge of the bonfires instantly realised the situation, and applied matches to the petrol, which flared up in the nick of time. Hawker straightened up, closed the throttle, and made a perfect landing seven minutes before the time limit.

“There was a rush for the spot where the machine was, and the next five minutes were occupied in cheering, congratulating, shaking hands and patting backs. Hawker climbed out of his seat, having been exactly 8 hours 23 minutes in the air, but he looked easily capable of undergoing the same trial again.

“Relating his experience, Hawker said: ‘When I got away first at about 9.15 I thought the new magneto had been timed incorrectly, because the engine was only turning at 1,600, and would hardly carry the load; before I had done a circuit, however, I discovered it was only a case of getting the engine warm, this taking a particularly long time, because we had fitted two radiators where there only used to be one, even in the summer, and I was carrying nearly six gallons of water all told. This I found afterwards to be really too much, because towards the end I tried to warm my hand on the water-pipe which runs from the bottom of the radiators and found it too cold to touch.

“‘Within five minutes of the start the engine was turning round at just over 2,000 revolutions per minute, and I realised that if I wanted to economise I must throttle down a little. This I did, and ran along steadily at about 1,800 revolutions. I was extremely worried to think that we had let Raynham get such a lead, but there was no hope for it, so I settled down to a long, slow job, determined to stick to it to the end.

“‘I was quite snug and warm inside the little body that had been provided, and the weather throughout was ideal. The engine ran splendidly, and I can truthfully say that it never made a single misfire for the whole period of 8 hours 23 minutes.

“‘I occupied most of my time in keeping one eye on the clock and one on Raynham, who was flying below me, and on several occasions he quite appeared to be “taxi-ing” along the ground. I always noticed that he never came to rest, however, and concluded that he must be flying low. Once he shot across my path about some 150 feet under me, giving me quite a start for the second. On several occasions I lost sight of him for half an hour at a time, and was sometimes worried by wondering whether I was going to give him my backwash or whether I was getting into his.

“‘I had a Thermos flask of cocoa on board, some chocolate, and some sandwiches, all of which I found useful in either passing the time away or relieving the monotony by giving me something to do. I did not look at the exact time that I started, but I knew that I had about an hour and three quarters to do after Raynham had finished. Everything was plain sailing with regard to the petrol supply and oil. The petrol was gravity-fed and the oil pressure-fed. I had a twenty-gallon petrol tank just behind my back, which was coupled directly to the carburetter, and above that I had a twelve-gallon tank, both being full. The twelve-gallon tank was connected by a pipe to the larger tank, and after I had been flying for four hours I turned on the tap in the twelve-gallon tank and allowed the contents of this tank to flow down to the larger one. I discovered afterwards that the pipe from the twelve-gallon to the twenty-gallon tank was not large enough, because when I came down in the evening I could hear the petrol still slowly trickling into the large tank. For the oil, I had a glass gauge in the sump of the motor and a five-gallon tank also behind my back, I started off with two gallons in the sump, and occasionally pumped up a little pressure in the oil tank, opening the tap between the tank and the sump to keep the oil level in the sump somewhere within sight. As the petrol was used and the weight lessened I closed the throttle slightly, the engine running equally well at all speeds.

“‘Later on I saw a shutter being carried out with the words “Fly higher” painted on it. I could read it quite distinctly from 400 feet, but as I felt quite comfortable where I was I did not pay any heed to it. It was not until after I came down that I discovered that this sign was meant for Raynham. It was a great relief to me to see Raynham come down, and I knew this time that he was going to land, because I could see all the people running across the ground towards him.

“‘From then onwards I kept my eyes glued to the face of the clock, the last half hour that would make my flight equal Raynham’s being the most anxious and worrying of the whole day. Every minute seemed an hour, and as I was afraid that the petrol in the top tank might not be flowing properly into the main tank, I closed the throttle for the last twenty minutes down to the very limit the machine would fly with. I must have been flying then at only about thirty-five miles per hour. Then I saw the 70 h.p. Gnome Tractor ’bus come out, and watched Mr. Sopwith with interest. I guessed what he was coming out for, and when I saw him make straight for me, broadside on, I kept on a perfectly straight course, knowing well that he would be careful not to hinder me in any way. He came quite close alongside, and I distinctly heard them both shout (my A.B.C engine had a silencer fitted), but I could not tell what they said.

“‘Painfully slowly the minutes rolled away, but at last I realised that I was the holder of the British Duration Record. When I was quite sure of this I opened up the throttle again, as I had not much to fear now, but I was still determined to keep up in order to give anyone else a good run in order to beat it. When it was getting nearly dark I pulled open the last notch of the throttle and climbed up to 1,400 feet on the meter, and I did this very rapidly. Darkness came on, and I could see very little but the red-hot exhaust pipe and the reflection from the burnt gases. The dim lights of the Blue Bird served as a little guide to the position of the ground, and when I felt sure it must be quite 5.50 I decided to come down immediately and make a guess at where the ground was, as I felt sure they had forgotten all about the fires, and I did not want to get lost and smash the machine up. Just as I was landing the fires flared up, and I came to rest and found everyone as pleased as I was.’”

Note.—The foregoing verbatim report of Hawker’s experiences in making the British Duration Record is reprinted from the Aero of November, 1912.

In attempting, with characteristic pluck, to beat Harry’s record on the last day of the competition, Cody unfortunately collided with a post on landing after a trial flight, and a wing was buckled in consequence.

The performance whereby Harry not only won the British Empire Michelin Cup No. 1, but also captured the British Duration Record, brought him into the front rank of British pilots and marked an important point in the annals of British aviation. Public attention was attracted to a type of machine of which little was known in this country, although it bore the pioneer hall-mark of the Wrights. For the Sopwith Aviation Company the flight was a great business asset and a sure foundation for the goodwill of the concern.

Harry took part in an Altitude Competition on Saturday, November 9th, 1912, at Brooklands, in which event Barnwell was the only other competitor. Unfortunately the race had to be given to Barnwell, as Harry had omitted to set his barograph at zero before starting, so that the exact height he reached was not recorded. Nevertheless, the immediate excitement of the contest did not suffer through this inadvertence.

A Bomb-dropping and Alighting Competition, in which competitors had to drop their bombs on or near a given target and land within a minimum radius of a given mark was held on the Saturday following. The first and second places went to Merriam and Knight respectively, Sopwith, Bendall, and Harry being the “also rans.” Sopwith, having succeeded in making a direct hit with his bomb, misjudged his landing, a circumstance which disqualified him.

Harry shared in a big success in a Relay or Despatch-carrying Race on Sunday, November 17th. In this contest the competitors worked in pairs. One pilot would start off with a despatch, and, after flying one-and-a-half laps, land and hand the commission over to his partner, who in turn would fly over the same course, alight, and hand the despatch to the judge, the winning pair being those who made fastest time. In the particular contest, which was flown in perfect flying weather, it was originally intended that each pair should comprise a biplane and a monoplane, and Hamel flew over from Hendon on a Blériot for the special purpose of competing, but the scarcity of monoplanes owing to the War Office ban on machines of that type resulted in only biplanes taking part. The first prize went to Harry and Spencer, the latter flying a machine of his own construction. Their total time for the course was 9½ minutes. Barnwell and Merriam, of the Vickers and Bristol Schools respectively, on Farman and Bristol machines, took 10 minutes 10 seconds, and Bendall and Knight, on a similar pair of machines, took 10 minutes 12 seconds.

On Sunday afternoon, November 24th, just before dusk, a Speed Handicap over two laps of the Brooklands course was decided. The handicapping was, on the whole, good, Alcock,[1] Sopwith, and Knight, the first three home, all finishing in that order within a space of four seconds. Harry finished, but was unplaced. It is interesting to note that this was the first race in which Alcock participated. He had recently obtained his brevet at the Ducrocq school. Sopwith made fastest time.

[1] The late Sir John Alcock, K.B.E.

Harry had his machine out on the following Sunday to take part in another Bomb-dropping and Alighting Competition, but as the contest was on the point of starting rain came on and put an end to flying for the remainder of the day. The contest was postponed until the next Sunday, but Harry was unavoidably absent.

Busteed, Harrison, and Harry, who had all migrated from Australia together in April, 1911, had all now achieved some distinction in flying, and Australian prowess in the art was well in the ascendant. Busteed and Harrison were doing big things for the Empire as instructors of flying, and Harry, by his record flights, was doing much to promote British aerial prestige.

The business of the Sopwith Company having expanded extensively in the meantime, Mr. Sopwith had decided to lease a skating-rink in Canbury Park Road, Kingston-on-Thames, so that more room than could be provided in the sheds at Brooklands should be available for the construction of machines to meet increasing demands from the Admiralty, War Office, and foreign governments. The skating-rink was ideal, not only on account of the space available for erecting big machines, but also owing to the level floor, which was a great facility. Mr. Sigrist, who had been largely responsible for the design of the Sopwith Tractor biplane and had accompanied Mr. Sopwith on his American tour, was the works manager there.

And so I leave 1912, conscious of the fact that, in the few months during which he had been flying, Harry had contributed in some considerable measure to the fostering of that record-breaking spirit so necessary for the advancement of the new art and science.