Famous Flyers and Their Famous Flights

by Jack Wright

  CHAPTER VIII--North Pole and South

  Dinner was a jolly affair. Everybody was in excellent humor. Hal hadquite recovered from his afternoon's experience; Pat had succeeded ingetting the Marianne into perfect shape; Bill looked forward to hisevening's plans with relish; and Bob was happy just on generalprinciples, anticipating a great evening, and because he was usuallyhappy. Mrs. Gregg, who often became lonely by herself, was glad of beingin such pleasant company.

  They went into the garden after dinner, and the Captain, after fillingup his ever-present pipe, began his story.

  "Well," he said, "there's only one way to begin the story of anybody'slife. That's by telling when he was born, because after all, that's thefirst thing that happens to a man, isn't it? Well, Admiral RichardEvelyn Byrd was born on October 25, 1888, in Winchester, Virginia, wherethere had been Byrds ever since anybody could remember. In fact, thefirst Byrd settled in America about 1690, and the name has been aprominent and honored one ever since. There were Byrds fighting in theRevolution and in the Civil War, so it wasn't from nowhere that ourRichard Evelyn got his courage and grit that carried him through thedangers of being the first man to cross both the North and the Southpoles in a plane.

  "He had a grandmother, too, who gave him a goodly supply of what ittakes to do great deeds. That was Jane Byrd, who was the sort of personaround whom legends spring up, and are carried down from generation togeneration. In fact, one of them was a famous story of her killing of ahuge blacksnake. It was during the Civil War. Her husband and herbrother were both fighting for the Confederacy, and Jane Byrd was leftalone to manage the great plantation and farm. And manage it she did.One day she went to gather the eggs in the chicken house, and found agreat blacksnake had swallowed twelve prized guinea eggs that had beenset under a setting hen. She clubbed the snake to death with a club,taking care not to strike the twelve bumps that showed all down its bodythe places where the twelve guinea eggs reposed. Then she cut the snakeopen and took out the eggs and put them back under the hen, without abit of fuss or excitement. She took seriously the charge that she musttake care of the estate while her men were away fighting.

  "Richard Byrd couldn't have had better ancestors to back him up in hisadventures, but every ounce of courage, every bit of perseverance thathe inherited, he needed. He was a man who met with hundreds ofdisappointments, and innumerable obstacles in carrying out the plansthat meant so much to him and to the world. But he was never downed bythem. Set-backs that would have made other men, men of lesser caliberturn from their paths and give up their plans, were just so much more ofa spur to him.

  "Dick Byrd was never a robust man. He had the physical handicap of a badankle to overcome, and his general build has always been slight. He isnot the huge, strapping hero of story-book fame; he was the littleNapoleon with a great determination that outweighed any physicalweakness. A man doesn't have to be big to get places. A little fellow,if he wants to badly enough, can accomplish a lot.

  "And Dick Byrd certainly wanted badly to go to the Pole. Even when hewas a kid in school, it was his ambition to be the first man to reachthe North Pole. Somebody beat him to it. Peary got there first, but ittook him a long time, and he had to go on foot. Byrd flew, andaccomplished in a few hours what had taken days and weeks to do before.

  "Not only did he want to go to the Pole--he wanted to go to all sorts ofplaces, and he did, too. Before he was fourteen years old, Richard Byrdtraveled alone around the world! That took nerve. And not only nerve onRichard Byrd's part, but on the part of his mother! The trip wasn't aregular round-the-world tour that anybody can make today on a boatthat's like a little palace, but it was a rough, adventurous voyage onan army transport, and a British tramp.

  "It was like this. You see, Dick had struck up a friendship with CaptainKit Carson. After the Spanish American War, Carson went to thePhilippines as a Circuit Court Judge. But he didn't forget his friendDick. They exchanged letters. In one letter the Captain mentioned thatit would be a fine idea if Dick Byrd came down to the Philippines to seethe exciting time that they were having down there. Dick took him up onthe idea, and made plans to go. At first his mother was horrified at theidea, since Dick was not a strong boy. But with unusual intelligence,she decided to let him go, since the trip would be an educational one,and would do the boy more good than any possible harm that could come tohim. The very fact that he wanted so badly to go, and planned his tripso carefully, made her feel that he had reached an age where he must beallowed to decide for himself. This was a very wise decision on herpart, since it was probably this trip, with its adventures inself-reliance that made Richard into the successful adventurer that heis."

  "The trip to Manila was made exciting by a typhoon that stuck thetransport--something that the boy would not have wanted to miss, althoughthe Captain of the transport could have done very well without it--hesaid it was the worst that he'd ever been through.

  "They got to Manila, though, safe and sound, and Dick was greeted by hisfriend Carson. Manila was intensely amusing for a boy of fourteen.Amusing, and mighty exciting. The excitement included a lone combat witha gang of angry rebels armed with knives--from which the young Dickescaped only by the fleetness of his pony's heels. That's the sort ofadventure young boys dream of, and that's the sort they should have tolook back on, if they are to live the full sort of life that RichardByrd did.

  "From Manila, Dick went visiting to Darim Island. On the island thecholera plague was raging, and Dick got exposed to the disease. They puthim into quarantine. He didn't get the cholera, but all around him menwere dying in terrible agony. Finally the doctor managed to get Dick tothe seaport, and he got a boat for Manila. They were glad to see himback, and he was glad to be back.

  "After Manila, Dick went on his merry way around the world by way ofCeylon and the Red Sea to Port Said, where he reshipped for the last lapof his cruise. It was a wonderful trip for a boy, and there's no doubtthat it had a great influence on all that he did later.

  "When Richard got back, and had settled down more or less, his parentsdecided that he should go to Virginia Military Institute. He was popularat the Institute, as he was popular wherever he went, for hisspirit--that old spirit that carried him around the world, and lateracross both of the earth's poles. It was the same spirit that made himtry out for the football team at V.M.I.--and carried him to the positionof end on the first team. It was at that time that an incident occurredwhich was to be very significant in his later life. In one game of theseason he broke his ankle. This was not important in itself--but ithappened to be the first break of an ankle that was going to bother Dickagain and again--and almost at one time defeat him entirely.

  "But I'm getting ahead of my story. After being graduated from theMilitary Institute, Dick Byrd went quite naturally to Annapolis. Heentered in 1908. He carried his popularity and his success with him tothis place. His grades were not of the highest, but he excelled inathletics, going out for football again, besides track, boxing, andwrestling.

  "In his last year at Annapolis, Dick's ankle made itself felt again.Dick was Captain of his gym squad, which was competing in the bigexhibition of the year. Dick, as Captain, wanted to make a spectacularshowing, and cinch the meet for his team. To do this, he invented anintricate, complicated series of tricks on the bars, calculated to stirup the most lethargic members of the audience. It would have been agreat trick--if it had succeeded--but it didn't. Dick slipped, somehow,and his hands failed to connect with the bars. Down he went--on the sameankle, breaking it once more.

  "In 1912 he got his commission, and became an ensign. And he also beganto formulate plans for his great adventures. Connected with theNavy--there was no telling what opportunity for adventure would come tohim. But he reckoned without his ankle. It gave way a third time--thistime while he was going down a gangway, so that he was pitched headfirstdown. They tried to fix up the ankle--in fact, they joined the bonestogether with a silver nail. That is, Byrd thought that they had used asilver nail--and when he discovered that j
ust a plain, ordinary nail hadbeen used, he felt very much deflated. Nail and all, Byrd walked with alimp, and an ensign with a limp was just useless, so far as the Navy wasconcerned. So Byrd was retired.

  "That must have been an awful blow to him. Not only was the only careeropen to him cut short, but he had been married the year before, to MarieAmes, a childhood sweetheart from Winchester. So that his retirementaffected not just himself, but another as well.

  "It might have floored a lesser man. But not Dick Byrd. In 1917 theUnited States went into the World War, And Byrd, who had been rejectedby the Navy, and who doubtless could not have found a place in the army,decided to go into the branch of the service that wouldn't ask questionsabout his bad leg--because it didn't matter whether he had a bad leg ornot--in aviation. So to aviation he turned.

  "He entered the Naval flying school at Pensacola, Florida. It was alucky day for Byrd and for aviation that he took to the air. It seemsthat the air was where he belonged. He was a Byrd by birth, and mighthave been born with wings, for the ease with which he took to flying.

  "He became assistant superintendent of the school, and was on thecommission to investigate accidents. There were a lot of them, then. Theplanes were not so highly developed as they are now--and the greenyoungsters who were entering the service could not handle them. You canimagine how horrible it was to see some friend's plane come crashingdown into the ocean, and have to be the first to go out in the rescueboat, in order to do what was possible to rescue him, and to discoverwhat had caused the accident. A warning from the observationtower--somebody was in tailspin. A deafening crash! And the rescue boatwould be put out before the waves from the great splash had subsided. Atthis work Byrd learned that more than half of the accidents could havebeen avoided with care--either in inspecting the machine before going up,or in handling it up in the air.

  "Dick Byrd was just too good. That was his tough luck at this point inhis career. He was too good to be sent over to France, where he wantedto go. He was sent instead to Canada, where he was chief of the Americanair forces in Canada. At this job, as well as at any other that heundertook, Byrd acquitted himself admirably. And even though he chafedat being kept in America, he did his job well.

  "But his mind was soaring across the ocean. As early as 1917 Byrd wantedto fly the Atlantic. But there was always something that interfered.After the war, he petitioned the Navy again about a cross-Atlanticvoyage, and was given permission to go over to England and sail the ZR-2back to America. How tragically this may have ended for Byrd you cansee. The ZR-2, on a trial flight suddenly burst into flames and crashedinto the Humber river. Forty-four of the passengers were killed, amongthem friends of Byrd. It was Richard Byrd's task to investigate thewreck that might very easily have claimed him for one of its victims.

  "In 1924 his hopes seemed about to be realized at last. He was assignedto the dirigible Shenandoah, and was to fly it across Alaska and theNorth Pole. But the Shenandoah, too, met with disaster, and Byrd's hopeswere again dashed. The Navy rejected his petition to go with Amundsen onthe trip that he planned over the Pole, and all hope seemed gone. Infact, as a final blow, Byrd was retired from the aviation servicealtogether.

  "But he was as undaunted by this setback as he had been by hisretirement from the Navy. He set about immediately to organize his ownPolar expedition, which was to be climaxed by his flight over the Polein 1926.

  "Floyd Bennett, whom Byrd often said was the best man in the world tofly with, helped him plan his expedition which was to be the realizationof all his boyhood dreams and visions. It wasn't easy to plan, and theforesighted planning, they knew, would mean the success or failure oftheir project.

  "They chose a three-motored Fokker monoplane, with 200 horsepower Wrightair-cooled motors. It was 42 feet 9 inches long, with a wing spread ofover 63 feet. It was capable of a high speed of 120 miles an hour.

  "That was the plane, the Josephine Ford. Their ship was the Chantier,given him by the Shipping Board. The crew was made up of picked men, andByrd knows how to pick them. Not one of them failed to live up to hisexpectations on that trip.

  "On April 5, 1926, all of the plans being completed, and the lastsupplies of food to last fifty men for six months being stowed away, theChantier sailed from New York for King's Bay, Spitzbergen. They gotthere on April 29th, after an uneventful trip, and anchored in the Bay.But the problem of getting the plane to shore arose. They solved it bybuilding a huge raft, loading the heavy ship onto it, and towing it toshore through the choppy, ice-blocked water.

  "When they got the plane onto the shore, the wheels sank into the snow,and they had to replace them with skis, which seemed ample to sustainthe weight of even that great craft. How frail they really were was tobe proved later.

  "Byrd and his men set up camp, and prepared for the take-off to thePole. They had to work fast. The Amundsen-Ellsworth-Nobile Expeditionwith its dirigible the Norge was well on its way with its preparations,and while there was no bitter rivalry between the two expeditions,nevertheless the distinction of being the first to fly over the Pole wasone not to be sneezed at. Everybody worked--eighteen hours a day, withmeals taken on the run. And nobody thought to complain--the morale neverbroke once. That's the sort of man Byrd picks to take with him--andthat's the sort of respect they have for a man who chooses them. Byrd'sa leader. No matter where he has come in contact with men, he has wontheir love and respect, and has got more work out of them by hiskindness and gentleness than anybody else could have by slave-driving.They worked for Byrd because they liked to, not because they had to. Heimbued them with his spirit of adventure, so that every man of them wasdetermined that his expedition should be successful, and that Byrdshould be the first man to fly across the Pole.

  "One of the hardest jobs of all was packing down the snow into a hard,smooth runway for taking off. They had to take off going down hill,since there was no level stretch of snow for their start, and this hillhad to be smoothed and leveled. The first attempt at a take-off wasdisastrous. The plane landed in a snowdrift, with a broken ski. Thecarpenters worked for two days and nights to make new skis, and the shipwas ready for its second attempt.

  "The second trial flight was a huge success. The ship rolled down theincline and took gently and gracefully into the air. At least they wouldbe able to get off. The landing, too, was beautiful. So far, so good.They discovered by this trial flight that they could make the North Poleand return without landing once, as they had planned before.

  "The Josephine Ford was a mighty heavy craft, and loaded with fuel andsupplies, which they would need in case of a forced landing and overlandtrek, she weighed five tons. This accounts for the terrible job gettingher off the ground and into the air.

  "Well, finally everything was ready, the weather was just right; themotors had been warmed up, and Bennet and Byrd climbed into the plane,ready to start. Down the runway they coasted. There was a tense moment.Would she lift? With a groan, the men on the ground saw her lurch, rollinto a snowdrift, and all but turn over.

  "A lesser man, as I said once before, would have been discouraged. Butnot Byrd! He got out, inspected the plane, and found to his joy that ithad not been damaged. No delay! Off again. They lightened the load asmuch as they dared by taking off some fuel, then taxied the JosephineFord up the hill again. The men worked like Trojans to get the runwaylengthened and smoothed out again. At last everything was ready.

  "Byrd and Bennett decided to stake everything on that last trial. Theydecided to give the engine all the speed they could, so that at the endof her run she'd either rise into the air, or crack up once and for all.Even as they planned, they hoped against hope that it would be theformer, and not the latter. The weather was perfect. It was a littlepast midnight. The men of the expedition were gathered about, anxiouslyawaiting the take-off. Byrd and Bennett shook hands with them, steppedinto the cabin of the ship and started down the runway. The great shiprose laboriously into the air. There was a shout from their comrades.They were off for the North Pole! Those on the ground
cheered lustily.The Great Adventure, for which one of those men in the air had beenpreparing all his life, had begun.

  "They had to navigate first by dead reckoning, following the landmarksin the vicinity of King's Bay. They climbed to a good distance so thatthey could get a perfect view of the land below them, and looked downupon the snowy mountains, scenery grander than any they had ever seenbefore, and terrifying, too. In a short time they left the land behind,and crossed the edge of the polar ice pack.

  "There are no landmarks on the ice, and when they reached the ice pack,they had to begin their careful navigating. In the first place, they hadto hit the Pole exactly, chiefly because that was the place they had setout for, and then because if they didn't hit it exactly, they would haveno way of reckoning their path back to Spitzbergen, and would be lost inthe arctic wastes.

  "But expert navigating was Dick Byrd's strong point. He had developed asextant by which the altitude of the sun could be gaged withoutreference to the horizon line, and that was exactly what he needed now,because due to the formations of ice, the horizon was irregular. Butfiguring out position by means of the sextant requires at least an hourof mathematical calculation, and by the time the position had beenfigured, the men in the airplane had advanced about a hundred miles ormore. So they used a method that they had learned, whereby theirposition could be judged by means of taking the altitude of the sun andlaying down the line of position on a sort of graph.

  "Their compass was of little value. They were too near the NorthMagnetic Pole, which had a tendency to pull their magnet from thegeographical Pole to its own position, about 1,000 miles south. So theyused a sun compass, that indicated their position by means of the sun.Of course, the fact that they had sun throughout the whole trip was anadvantage. I doubt if they could have made it otherwise. Navigating upthere is too difficult. Then they had to figure on wind drift. The wind,blowing pretty hard, say, about 30 miles an hour at right angles totheir plane would cause it to drift thirty miles an hour out of itscourse. This they were able to make up for by means of the driftindicator, which compensated for the drift.

  "Bennett piloted first. He would glance back to the cabin where Byrd wasbusy with the navigating instruments, and Byrd would indicate to him howto steer his course by waving his hand to the right or the left. Whenthey were certain of their course, Byrd looked down on the land that hehad desired to see since he had been a boy in school. Below them,stretching for mile upon mile was the ice pack, criss-crossed withridges, seeming like mere bumps in the ice from their altitude, butreally about 50 or 60 feet high. Every now and then they saw a lead,opened by the movement of the water--those treacherous leads that had ledmany a hardy explorer to his death.

  "Byrd took the wheel. He steered with one hand while he held the compassin the other. Bennett poured gasoline into the tanks, and threwoverboard the empty cans, to relieve the plane of weight. From then onthey took turn and turn about at the wheel, Byrd navigating incessantly,until he had a slight attack of snow blindness from looking down at thesnow so constantly.

  "Soon they came to land where no man had ever been before. It was thenthat Byrd felt that he was being repaid for all the planning, all thehard work and heart-breaking disappointments that he had experienced.The sun was shining, the Josephine Ford functioning perfectly.

  "Perfectly? Just a minute. They were about an hour from the Pole. Byrdnoticed through the cabin window a bad leak in the oil tank of onemotor. If the oil leaked out, the motor would burn up and stop. Shouldthey land? No. Why not go on as far as they could, perhaps reach thePole? They would be no worse off landing at the Pole than landing here,and they would have reached their goal. So on they kept. Byrd glued hiseyes to the oil pressure gauge. If it dropped, their motor was doomed.But they would not land, or turn back.

  "Luck was with them. At about two minutes past nine o'clock, theycrossed the Pole. It takes just a minute to say it, but how many yearsof planning, how many years of patiently surmounting obstacles hadprepared for that minute's statement!

  "Below them was the frozen, snow-covered ocean, with the ice broken upinto various formations of ice fields, indicating that there was no landabout. Byrd flew the plane in a circle several miles in diameter, withthe Pole as a center. His field of view was 120 miles in diameter. Allthis while he was flying south, since all directions away from the Poleare south. And now, his purpose accomplished, his hardest task facedhim. He had to fly back to Spitzbergen.

  "Soon after he left the Pole, the sextant that he was using slid off thechart table, breaking the horizon glass. He had to navigate the wholetrip back by dead reckoning! With the oil fast spurting out, and themotor threatening to stop any minute, and no sextant to show hisposition, Byrd had his hands full. They lost track of time. Minutesseemed like hours, hours like ages. Then they saw land dead ahead. Itwas Spitzbergen! Byrd had flown into the unknown, 600 miles from anyland, had turned about, and come back to the very spot from which he hadstarted.

  "Maybe you don't realize what wonderful navigating this was. But anybodywho has navigated a plane by dead reckoning knows that it was a featthat called for great skill.

  "Nobody was prouder of what Byrd and Bennett had done than the men whohad worked so hard to make the trip a success, and who had stayed behindat Spitzbergen, without glory or reward except in knowing that they hadbeen a necessary feature in the success of that journey. The whistle ofthe Chantier blew a shrill whistle of welcome. The men ran to greet Byrdand Bennett, and carried them in triumph on their shoulders. Among thefirst to greet them were Amundsen and Ellsworth, whom Byrd had beaten inthe race to be the first to cross the Pole by air. But they shook handswith vigor. They were glad that it was Byrd who had beaten them, if ithad to be anybody. Byrd affects people that way. He's just as well likedafter successes as before them. That's the sort he is.

  "They were pretty glad to see him when he got back to the United States,too. There were plenty of whistles blowing, plenty of ticker tape, andparades for the returning hero. But Dick Byrd stayed modest through allof it. In the first place, he never gets fussed. He isn't a southerngentleman for nothing. And in the second place, he realized that theshouting wasn't so much for him as it was for the thing that he did. Hehad brought the United States the honor of sending the first men overthe Pole. And the United States was applauding the deed, not himself.But he seems to have forgotten that if it hadn't been for his years ofplanning, striving and struggling the deed never would have beenaccomplished.

  "Well, Dick Byrd had accomplished his life's ambition. But it didn'tmean that he was ready to quit. There were new fields to conquer. Howabout flying the Atlantic? He'd always wanted to fly the Atlantic.Anything that was all adventure appealed to him. So when they hoistedanchor at Spitzbergen after the flight across the Pole Byrd said to hiscompanion Bennett, 'Now we can fly the Atlantic.'

  "The plan to fly the ocean had its origin in the same motives that theNorth Pole flight had. Byrd wanted to make America aviation conscious;and he wanted to make American aviators conscious of the benefits ofcareful planning. Dozens of lives had been lost in unsuccessfultrans-oceanic flights--the lives of young men full of the love ofadventure, who made hasty plans, or no plans at all for spanning theocean--who had no qualifications except a great ambition to see themthrough the great grind that was before them. Byrd wanted to show allfool-hardy young flyers that care, care, and more care was needed intheir preparations. He had to prove to the United States, too, that ifcare were exercised in these flights, they were not necessarilydangerous. All this Byrd had to prove. And in the meantime he'd have thetime of his life, steeped in the adventurous sort of work that hecraved.

  "So Byrd and Bennett started their plans. The first step, of course, wasthe choosing of the plane. Opinion was in favor of a single-motoredplane for a cross-Atlantic flight, since a single-motored plane wouldhave a greater cruising range; offer less resistance in the air; and beless complicated to handle than a multi-motored craft. But Byrd held outfor the tri-motor, the same type of plane a
s the Josephine Ford, whichhad carried him over the Pole. There was this to say for it: if onemotor stopped, the other two would still function; and it might be thesolution to the problem of what kind of plane would cross the Atlanticin the future, when planes ran on regular schedule. They wanted a biggerplane than the Josephine Ford, though. So they had one designed with awing spread of 71 feet, which meant that they got an increased liftingpower of about 3,000 pounds. That enabled them to take along about 800pounds of equipment above what they actually needed, to show that a payload could be carted across the water in a plane.

  "They needed plenty of equipment, though. There was a special radio set,rockets to shoot off as signals if anything went wrong; two rubber boatsfor the crew; and emergency food and equipment of all sorts for forcedlandings; and even a special apparatus for making drinking water out ofsalt water so that they would not go thirsty. In fact, they could havesurvived for three weeks in case of an accident. They? Why, Byrd decidedthat besides himself and Bennett, they would take along passengers, alsoto prove something--this time that passengers could be carried across toEurope by plane.

  "They successfully petitioned the Weather Bureau to make predictions forthe trans-Atlantic flights, and for the first time in history regularweather maps for aviation were made of the North Atlantic.

  "At the end of April, in 1927, the plane was ready for its factory test.Byrd planned to make his flight in May, which he figured was a goodmonth. It happened that there were at the time several other planespreparing to cross the ocean. Byrd was in no race, however. Of course,it would have been nice to be the first man across the Atlantic, as hehad been the first man over the Pole--but he encouraged the others whowere preparing and made no effort to be the first to start. However, hisplane was ready before the others.

  "Byrd, Bennett, Noville, who was going with them, and Fokker took her upfor her first flight. Fokker was at the controls; the other three,passengers. Everything went smoothly. She took off well; her motorsfunctioned perfectly. But as soon as the motors were turned off for theglide, they felt her nose dip. She was nose-heavy. When they tried toland, they knew definitely that she was nose-heavy, and zoomed into theair again to plan what they should do. However, they couldn't stay upindefinitely--they hadn't much fuel. Down they glided again. The wheelstouched the ground. Fokker jumped. But the other three were caught.

  "Byrd felt the fuselage heave up. The plane went over on her nose,turned completely over. Something struck him with an awful impact, andhe felt his arm snap. They had to get out of this! They were trapped ina mass of wreckage which might at any moment burst into flames and burnthem to death before they had a chance to escape. Noville, beside Byrd,broke a hole in the fabric with his fist, and they crawled out. Thewreckage did not burn. Someone had turned off the switches of all threemotors.

  "Bennett? He was hanging head down in the pilot's seat, unable to freehimself. His leg was broken; his face bleeding. He was badly injured--sobadly that for a week it was thought that he would never recover. But hedid--of course. His iron nerve and grit pulled him through. But anythought of his going on the trip was out. This was a blow to Byrd. Therewas no man he would rather fly with than Bennett, Floyd Bennett, thecheerful companion, the willing worker, himself an expert pilot, andable to divine instructions before they were even given. Tough luck!

  "But tough luck, too, was the fact that the plane was almost irreparablydamaged. Byrd set his arm on the way to the hospital, had them put it ina sling so that it would be out of the way, and went back to the factoryto supervise the repairing of the America. It took over a month of worknight and day to repair the damage that had been done, and re-design thenose so that the craft would be balanced.

  "May 21st was set for the christening of the plane. The christening-waschanged into a celebration of the successful flight of Lindbergh.Bennett was pleased with Lindy's achievement, since Lindy had proved thevery things that Byrd himself had set out to prove--that with carefulpreparation, the ocean could be spanned; and that a successful oceanflight would stir the imaginations of the people, making them moreconscious of aviation and its strivings. Then, too, Lindbergh cementedrelationships between France and the United States, which was one ofByrd's purposes in flying to France instead of to England, or any othercountry.

  "Well, after the ocean had been crossed, there was no need for hurry.Not that Byrd had been in a rush; but there was a great deal ofcriticism concerning the delay of his trip. Nobody knows how thesethings start, or why. It seems that it should have been Byrd's, andByrd's business alone, as to when he chose to cross the ocean. Afterall, it was his life being risked, and his glory if the flight weresuccessful. But a great many people in the United States felt that theremust be some ulterior motive in his not starting immediately; and thathe had been bested by a mere boy when he let Lindbergh be the first manto conquer the ocean.

  "But Byrd didn't care. He knew what he was about. He was a southerngentleman, and he said nothing to his defamers. And he went oncompleting his preparations. Chamberlin, with his passenger Levine,broke the world's record for flying to Germany, in a remarkable flight.Byrd hailed their success.

  "Then at last, on June 29th, early in the morning the weather manreported that weather conditions, while not ideal, were favorable. DickByrd decided to delay no longer. He called together his crew, and metthem on the field at 3:00 o'clock in the morning. It was a miserablemorning, and a light rain was falling. By the light of torches the crewwas putting the finishing touches on the huge' America. There she was,atop the hill that they had built for her, so that she would get a goodfast start. And a good fast start she needed, all 15,000 pounds of her.Think of the speed they had to get up in order to lift that bulk fromthe ground! They'd have to be going a mile and a half a minute!

  "Bert Acosta was at the wheel; Noville, recovered from his seriousinjuries in the trial crash, sat with his hand on the dump valve, bymeans of which he could dump a load of gasoline if they didn't rise intothe air; Bert Balchen, the young Norwegian relief pilot and mechanic,was busy with the spare fuel.

  "The engines were warmed up. The great ship was ready--no, not quiteready. But she was eager to be off. The America broke the rope that heldher, and glided down the hill on which she had been held. It was a tensemoment. Would they be able to get this great hulk into the air? Alongthe ground she sped, gathering momentum. Her wheels lifted. There was ashout. She had cleared the ground. But the danger was not over. Theymust fly to at least 400 feet. Then the America showed her metal. Sheclimbed on a turn, and they were flying at an altitude of 400 feet. Theywere off!

  "On they sped to their destination at last. The wind was behind them,helping them; the weather was disagreeable, and slightly foggy, but thisdid not bother them. They reached Nova Scotia easily. But when they gotthere they got a horrible shock. They had run into a fog. But what afog! One so thick that they couldn't see the land or ocean under them.And they flew for 2,000 miles like this, absolutely blind, with blacktowering clouds ahead of them, below them, and when they ran throughthem, all around them.

  "The strain was terrible. In addition, Byrd calculated that they hadused more fuel than he had expected, because of climbing so high to getover the clouds, and they might not have enough to take them to Europe.But they did not want to turn back. They would take their chance.Balchen and Acosta piloted with great skill, and Byrd took his turn atthe wheel while they slept. The wind was with them, and they madeexcellent speed. Radio messages came to them clearly. They judged theirposition, and their gas supply, and found that they had underestimatedtheir remaining gas. They could get to Rome.

  "On the afternoon of the second day they came out of the thick fog, andsaw the welcome water beneath them. They were bound for France, and theyhit the coastline at Finisterre. They headed for Paris. Then theyradioed ahead for the weather report. Fog! Fog and storm, with itscenter at Paris. This was the worst thing that could possibly havehappened to them, this arriving at their destination in a fog. But theywent on. It would be a triumph
, and an addition to aviation knowledge ifthey could land in a storm, after coming all the way from America.

  "They figured finally that they must be almost over Paris. But suddenlythe fog below them was pierced by a queer light. It was the revolvingsignal of a lighthouse! Their compass had gone back on them, and theyhad made a circle, coming out not at Paris, but back to the coast ofFrance.

  "They turned around, after adjusting their compasses, and made once morefor Paris by dead reckoning. They were above Le Bourget. But what couldthey do? They could see nothing below them, only an inky blackness thatnothing could penetrate. Landing would have meant not only death tothemselves, but perhaps to many people who had gathered to watch theirtriumphal landing. Their gas was getting low. Byrd saw only onesolution. They turned and flew once more back to the coast. They wereheading for the lighthouse that they had come upon accidentally before.They flew very low, over the sleeping towns and villages that they knewwere below them, but which were shrouded in pitch blackness. A revolvinglight pierced the blackness, and they were at the seacoast. But over thewater it was just as inky black as over the land.

  "Balchen was at the wheel. Byrd gave the signal to land. They threw overa line of flares that gave them some idea as to where to land, thendescended. The force of their impact with the water sheared off thelanding gear. The plane sank to the wings in the water, and the fuselagefilled rapidly.

  "Byrd was thrown into the water. He swam to the plane. Noville wasclimbing out. The other two were nowhere to be seen. Byrd called tothem. He swam over to the plane, which was almost submerged. Balchen wascaught in the wreckage, but managed to extricate himself. Then Acostaswam up from nowhere. His collar bone was broken. But a hasty surveyassured Byrd that the others were all right. Almost exhausted, they gotout the collapsible boat, blew it up, and paddled to shore. It was amile to the village, and they trudged wearily on.

  "They certainly did not look like a triumphal parade when they got tothe village, four tired, wet, dirty men, who looked more like trampsthan aviators. They tried to arouse the villagers, but they could not. Asmall boy riding by became frightened when they spoke to him, andscooted away. Finally they approached the lighthouse, aroused thelighthouse keeper and his wife, and made them understand what hadhappened.

  "From then on, all was beer and skittles. There wasn't enough that thevillagers could do for the Americans who had landed so unceremoniouslyin their midst--or practically in their midst. They rescued the plane,and the mail that was in it.

  "Paris was next, and the real triumphal parade started then. The flyerswere almost overwhelmed with the wonderful greeting that the Parisiansgave them. It was worth all of the hours of agony that they had gonethrough. They had accomplished what they had set out to accomplish,after all.

  "Then America. Once more the American people welcomed Dick Byrd back asthe hero of the moment. He had excited interest in aviation; he hadproved many valuable scientific facts; he had proved a hero under tryingcircumstances; he had added to the friendly feeling felt by the Frenchfor the American people; in fact, he had done all things except one. Hehad not extinguished his spirit of adventure.

  "No sooner was Admiral Byrd back from his trip across the Atlantic whenhe was planning another voyage, this time reflecting again the boyishdreams of his early youth. He planned to go to the South Pole to makecertain scientific studies, and to fly across the Pole when he wasthere.

  "Very carefully he began to plan. He first obtained his ships. The_Larsen_ and the _Sir James Clark Ross_ were to be used as supply ships._The City of New York_, once an ice breaker, was to be his chief ship,and the _Eleanor Bolling_, named in honor of his mother, was to be thechief supply ship. He took, too, four planes, three for observationflights, and the huge three-motored Fokker, the _Floyd Bennett_. Everydivision of the expedition was equipped with radio sets. Every divisionof the expedition was further so equipped that in case of accident, orin case it should be separated from any other unit, it could rescueitself.

  "Among the preparations was the purchase of about a hundred eskimo dogs,which were to be used in the arctic. Ships, planes, cameras, radios,footgear, and a thousand other details Byrd had to plan carefully.Almost a million dollars had been spent before the ships even left NewYork.

  "In the midst of the preparations Admiral Byrd received a terrible blow.This was the death of Floyd Bennett, that someone has already toldabout. Bennett flew to the aid of Major Fitzmaurice, Captain Koebl andBaron von Huenefeld, who had been forced down in the Gulf of St.Lawrence, during the first east to west crossing of the Atlantic. AtMurray Bay, Quebec, he developed influenza, which turned into pneumonia.He died in Quebec. Colonel Lindbergh rushed to Quebec with serum to savehis life, but it was of no use. Floyd Bennett, whom everybody loved, andone of the greatest pilots of his day, had flown his last flight.

  "It meant a loss to all aviation, but to Dick Byrd especially, since thetwo men had been close friends. There was no man with whom Byrd wouldrather have flown over the South Pole, as he had flown over the North.In memory of his friend, Byrd named the plane with which he was to flyover the Pole the _Floyd Bennett_.

  "Preparations had to go on. It came time to choose the crew and staffwhich was to go with Byrd, to be gone for such a long time in the arcticwastes. The prospect does not seem inviting--the leaving of comfortablehomes, of families, in order to spend a year in the coldest climate thatwill sustain life. But so great is the spirit of adventure in man that15,000 people volunteered to go on the expedition. The men who werefinally chosen were picked men--all physically in perfect health, andmentally alert. True, some of them shipped in positions in which theyhad had no training, but Admiral Byrd could safely say that he had madea mistake in no case. Every man that he chose proved himself worthy ofthe choice.

  "Finally all was ready. On August 26, 1928, the _City of New York_started out. _The Eleanor Bolling_, a steamship, started later, as didthe supply ship, the _Larsen_. _The City of New York_, a sail boat, gotto New Zealand about the middle of November, the last to arrive. The_Larsen's_ cargo was shifted to the other ships. On December 2, the_Eleanor Bolling_ and the _City of New York_ sailed for the ice pack. Inabout two weeks it came into sight. Then the latter ship took over theformer's cargo, and while the sail boat sailed back for New Zealand, thesteamer went on to penetrate the ice pack and steam at last into theRoss Sea.

  "The ship and its precious cargo went on to the ice barrier, and it wason the ice barrier that Little America, the base of the expedition, thatwas to be the home of Byrd and his men for a rigorous year and a half,was built.

  "The village they built was complete in every detail. As soon as theylanded, the men started in with the building program. There were threeclusters of buildings set in a circle about a thousand feet around.These included the Administration Building, containing living quarters,dispensary and radio reception room, a meteorological shelter, etc. Thenthere was the general dormitory, and the observation igloo. Otherbuildings included the store houses and medical supply store-house; aMess Hall, which was reached by a tunnel, and contained the dining room,and more living quarters.

  "The community was a comfortable one. There was plenty of work, ofcourse, but there was time for leisure, too, and the men could listen tothe radio, play with the dogs, read one of the books of the largelibrary; play cards, in fact, do any one of a number of things. The foodwas good. Dried vegetables and fruits had been taken down in quantities.There was plenty of meat, both smoked, and fresh killed seal meat. Theyhad electric light, and plenty of heat to keep them warm. In fact, thelife was pleasant if anything.

  "Of course, the most significant part of the whole expedition was Byrd'sflight over the Pole. As in the other flights, the building of therunway was the greatest task, and one of the most important. It took thewhole crew of 60 men to keep the runway in condition. On January 6th,the Commander made his first flight in Antarctica, making manyphotographs from his plane. After that, many trips were taken, new landdiscovered, and scientific observations made.
/>
  "The long night set in, and meant less activity, but in the Spring thesun rose once more, and activity broke out with renewed vigor,especially around the planes. Men had been sent ahead to cache food foremergency, in case of a forced landing of the _Floyd Bennett_. Byrd,Harold June, Bernt Balchen and Ashley McKinley were to make the flight.Everything was at last ready, and they were waiting only for favorableweather conditions in order to start.

  "On November 27, this was in 1929, came a weather report that satisfiedByrd, no fog, and plenty of sun. The next day was bright and fair. Theplane was given a final overhauling. It was carefully warmed; the oilwas heated and poured in. Into the cabin went the dogs, and the dogsledge, the food and other supplies that the men would have to use incase of a forced landing. Into the plane, too, went Ashley McKinley'scamera, which was to take records of the crossing of the Pole.

  "Finally Byrd gave the signal. _The Floyd Bennett_ was rolled out of itshangar to the runway. Balchen was to pilot first. He opened the throttleof all three motors. There was a roar, and they were on their way.

  "Away they flew, into the cloudless sky. June and Balchen piloted, Byrdnavigated. They flew high, and in spite of their load of 12,000 pounds,almost as much as they had had on the _America_, they attained analtitude of some 10,000 feet. This was necessary in order to clear thehighest of the glaciers. On flew the _Floyd Bennett_, gayly as a bird.

  "The craft had left Little America just before three o'clock in theafternoon. In ten hours she had covered 700 miles. Then suddenly theywere over the Pole. They circled around in a great circle, whose centerwas the South Pole, and then turned back. At a little after ten the nextmorning they sped wearily into camp at Little America. In nineteen hoursthey had been to the South Pole and back, and Dick Byrd, even though hecouldn't have been the first man at the North and South Poles,nevertheless found himself the only man in the world who had flown overboth the North and South Poles.

  "There was a let-down in the community's enthusiasm. The great task hadbeen accomplished. They awaited the City of New York which was to cometo take them home. Preparations were made for the homeward journey. Itwas with joyous cries that the steamer City of New York was greeted, andwith pleasure that the men left Little America for New Zealand. By Aprilthey had left hospitable New Zealand behind, too, and had started forthe United States.

  "Once more his countrymen turned out to honor Byrd. Dick Byrd was nowRear-Admiral Byrd, but the same Dick Byrd as he had always been before.There were banquets, and medals, and many honors heaped upon him. Allover the world movies which had been taken of the expedition were shownto entranced millions. Everybody shared in the work, the good times, theadventures of that group of men.

  "And here was little Richard Evelyn Byrd, who had been the undersized,delicate boy, with a will of iron, and a spirit for adventure, theleader of it all, the prime force behind the whole expedition. Heaccomplished all that he sat out to accomplish, and more. The scientificdata that he collected proved valuable; and interest in aviation wasbeyond a doubt stimulated. And that's that. How's that for a littlefellow with a bum ankle? Pretty good, eh?"

  Nobody answered the Captain at first. There seemed no answer. Each ofthem was busy with his own thoughts. Or her own thoughts, because thefeminine minds in that gathering were working very fast.

  "Well," said Mrs. Martin at last, "I am usually the last person to pointa moral, but I do think that there's a moral in that story." She saw heropportunity at last. "I think that Dick Byrd's parents were responsiblefor the boy's success. If they had squelched his adventurous spirit atthe beginning, he would probably never have got any place."

  Mrs. Gregg smiled to herself in the darkness. "Do you believe in youngboys going off by themselves, Mrs. Martin?"

  "It teaches them self-reliance," said Mrs. Martin firmly.

  "Do you think that they ought to fly planes by themselves?"

  "And why not? After all, there isn't very much to flying a plane, if youkeep your wits about you. And I'm sure that both of our boys have theirwits about them. I think that the earlier you learn a thing, the betterit is for you. It makes everything else easier, too."

  There was a silence for a while. Then Mrs. Gregg said, with a laugh inher voice, "I think that I'm being worked upon. First by the Captainwith his story, and then by you. I'm afraid I have no defense." Sheturned to Hal, who had not spoken at all, but who had been thinking agreat deal during the story of Byrd, and the obstacles that he hadovercome. "Well, Hal," she said, "what do you think? Shall we yield tothese people? Shall the Greggs yield to the Martins?"

  Hal had not seen his mother so light-hearted and gay for a long time.The pleasant evening and the story had had a decided effect upon her.

  Hal didn't know exactly what to say, But his mother went on, "I thinkwe're beaten, Hal. Do you want to go to the mountains with yourfriends?" Nobody there knew the effort that that sentence cost Mrs.Gregg, but she had said it, and she stood committed.

  Hal was at a still greater loss as what to reply. His heart was beatingwildly. There was nothing that he desired more now than to go to themountains, but he felt the effort that his mother had put behind herwords. Should he go? He wanted to. He wanted to show them that he wasn'tafraid. And he wouldn't be afraid, either. Not any more. Other people,little fellows, too, had done things, had gone places, and they weren'tafraid. So Hal said, "Well, I'd like to."

  "If you wish to, you may," said Mrs. Gregg.

  Bob, who had listened breathlessly to this conversation, could restrainhimself no longer. "Whoopee!" he yelled. "Hal's coming along! Hal'scoming along!" He jumped up and started to execute a war dance, draggingHal after him.

  Captain Bill was pleased. His story had made a hit--more of a hit than hehad even hoped for.