Just watched a documentary about Ferry Command and learned an interesting fact the RAF wouldn't supply pilots to ferry the aircraft as they thought it couldn't be done so Beaverbrook and the Austrailian Bennett were forced to recruit pilots bush pilots and crop dusters or those with low time and few skills to ferry aircraft across the North Atlantic . Another interesting fact was up to this point fewer then 100 flight had transited the pond.
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Greetings;
My Grandpa pioneered the North Atlantic flight route during the winter time. He was a squadron commander of one of the Ferry Squadrons while in the Army Air Corps during WWII. Before the war, he already had a private pilot's license. When approached by the Dept of Defence to join and was offered a commission through a special "fast-track" officer's training program, he chose the Army Air Corps because they had more of a variety of different planes that he could fly. He loved to fly and stated to me that he eventually flew every type of plane that the Air Corp had.
While in the Army Air Corp, he served as an instructor at the Army Air Corp Flight Training Command. He also boasted to me that all of the pilots who flew the planes that dropped the two atom bombs over Japan were once students of his at basic flight school, where he taught them how to fly. It was later that he was given command of a Ferry Squadron.
Before he died in April of 1997, on several or more occasions, he told to me his story of what happened during that pioneering flight over the North Atlantic during the winter time.
Here is the graphic story of what my Grandpa, Lt. Col. Richard Ellis Larsen USAF Reserves Retired, conveyed to me:
"The Germans were patrolling the North Atlantic during the Spring & Summer months trying to shoot-down our planes that we were trying to deliver to our forces and allies across the pond. The Germans also knew that we didn't fly those northern routes during the Winter time because of the bad weather and impossible flying conditions, so they would withdraw their forces during those colder months of the year and fortify those same forces along the southern flight routes.
In order for us to minimize our losses, I was asked to attempt a flight across the North Atlantic during the Winter time; that we desperately needed a 'non-patrolled' flight route as soon as possible. I accepted this assignment.
We flew out of [forgot exactly where] an airfield out of New England and proceeded northbound then eastbound to a designated airfield in England. We were taking four bomber planes for delivery to our guys over in England that would actually use them on bombing-runs.
At our designated flight speed and height, shortly into our flight, I noticed ice forming on my wings and so did the pilots from the other three planes. We had to do something quick or we would not make it to our designated landing point in England. So, I flipped a quarter...'Heads' I would climb and 'tails' I would fly lower near the ocean surface where it was warmer, in the hopes that maybe the ice would melt-off my wings. The idea in climbing, I would place a number of 'crash-heights' below me, in the hopes of making it close enough to my designation for a recovery in the case that my plane went down. My quarter came-up as 'heads'. So I climbed higher...Higher than what the operating manual allowed for my plane.
I climbed my plane so high, that we all had to wear our oxygen masks for the rest of the flight. One other of the three planes with us decided to follow me up to the higher altitude and the pilots of the other two planes decided to take their chances near the surface. I think I got up to near or around 40,000-feet (+,- some amount) before I leveled-off. I had to trim my fuel quite a bit, due to the drastically reduced air pressure and lack of oxygen up there.
When I checked how the ice was doing on my wings, I noticed the weirdest phenomenon that I had never seen nor heard of...The ice actually started to evaporate off of my plane's wings. The pilots of the other plane with me at that altitude also confirmed the same thing on their plane. I then radiod to the other two planes that took their chances of flying near the ocean surface to get a report of how they were doing down there. They reported that the ice was getting thicker on their wings. I told them to join us at the higher altitude. They responded by letting me know that their wings had too much ice and they were too heavy to gain altitude. In fact, they also reported that not only could they NOT gain altitude, but that they were gradually losing altitude. We were too far out for them to turn around for home and too far north for them to fly south for warmer weather. They began to scream over the radio their may-day call. They kept screaming frantically over the radio that they couldn't gain altitude and were going-down; -until silence.
-The rest of us found our way to Scotland and needed to land for fuel before finishing our trip to that designed air field in England. Our navigators could navigate to a very pinpoint accuracy over land but had very little training how to navigate over ocean. We were lucky enough to actually find Scotland, instead of somewhere else less favorable."
That is the story that I remember being told. I also remember him telling me that he was NEVER recognized for what he did. He regretted that.
Now, I wish to have him recognized for his heroic efforts and do not know where to start.
Peace be with you.