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Old Glory’s Final Ill-fated Flight: New York to Rome in 1927Aviation History | one comment | Print This Post | Email This Post
Not all his landings were easy ones. He was forced down numerous times due to bad weather or engine problems. Each time he miraculously walked away from the plane without injury. Subscribe Today
The airmail pilots were a close-knit group, so it is no surprise that both Hill and Bertaud heard early on about Lindbergh’s desire to attempt a transatlantic flight. In 1926, while he was still flying airmail, Lindy had dreamed of piloting a Wright-Bellanca — a single-engine, high-wing monoplane that was generally acknowledged to be one of the best aircraft in the world — across the Atlantic Ocean. Piloted by Clarence Chamberlain and Bert Acosta, the Wright-Bellanca Columbia would capture the attention of the media in the spring of 1927, achieving a world record for time aloft: 51 hours and 11 minutes. Lindbergh had tried to buy Columbia for his own attempt at flying the Atlantic, but Charles Levine, Bellanca’s chairman of the board, refused to sell unless he could pick the crew to pilot the plane.
Miffed at Levine’s refusal, Lindbergh instead made arrangements to buy the Ryan that became Spirit of St. Louis. Levine, meanwhile, turned to making Columbia ready for a transatlantic hop. Lloyd Bertaud was initially supposed to accompany him and Clarence Chamberlain to Europe. But Columbia met with a series of mechanical problems that delayed their departure. It was far easier to deal with mechanical problems, however, than to resolve the quarrels that soon erupted between Bertaud and Levine.
Lindbergh’s successful flight to Paris on May 20, 1927, spurred Bertaud’s impatience with his team’s delays — and exacerbated tensions between the aviators. When Levine threatened to remove him from the crew, Bertaud sought an injunction to prevent Columbia from taking off without him. Despite that, Levine finally decided to leave Bertaud behind. On June 7, 1927, Chamberlain and Levine flew the Wright-Bellanca to Germany, breaking the nonstop distance record with a total of 3,911 miles flown.
That move left the distance prize of New York to Rome open for all comers. Bertaud’s friend Hill had been making plans for such a flight before Columbia lifted off from the runway. A series of letters, now part of the archives at the West Overton Museum in Scottdale, Pa., paints a picture of Hill searching for a plane capable of a long-distance flight. The airmail pilot had apparently already located backers to finance a transatlantic attempt. On June 6, 1927, Carl F. Egge, superintendent of the Eastern Division of the Airmail Service, mentioned Hill’s supporters in a telegram to Pratt & Whitney, requesting that the company consider building an engine for an aircraft capable of this kind of flight. With a favorable reply from Pratt & Whitney in hand, Hill met with Giuseppe Bellanca, who told him it would take six to seven months for him to build such an aircraft.
While Hill struggled to find a plane, U.S. Navy Commander William Byrd made a more or less successful transatlantic crossing with his crew in a Fokker C-2 christened America. Unable to locate Paris, he was forced to ditch the plane in the surf near the French shore, but his flight was generally regarded as the third nonstop crossing of the Atlantic. Other pilots were also preparing for transatlantic attempts in Europe, and Hill, who had by now teamed up with Bertaud, became convinced that an attempt at the New York-to-Rome prize could not wait for a Wright-Bellanca. If he and Bertaud wanted to make their mark, they had to leave soon.
As it turned out, Hill and Bertaud gained an aircraft and major backer thanks to Philip Payne, the editor of William Randolph Hearst’s Daily Mirror. Payne convinced Hearst to sponsor the flight as a stunt to boost that New York newspaper’s circulation. Hearst had purchased a Fokker F.VIIA monoplane — similar to the aircraft Byrd had flown — for their use. The Fokker had a steel superstructure covered in canvas and a cantilever wooden wing bolted to the framework. Its 450-hp Jupiter engine was shipped to the United States from England, and the plane assembled in the Fokker factory at Hasbrouck Heights, N.J. Pages: 1 2 3 4Tags: Aircraft, Aviation History
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One Comment to “Old Glory’s Final Ill-fated Flight: New York to Rome in 1927”
Hadly Field is not in New Brunswick, NJ. It was four miles north of Camp Kilmer, NJ
By Joe Caro on Feb 26, 2009 at 11:25 pm