Airship Over Atherton

by Christopher Cummings

  Stick shook his head. “Noddy! Give it a break,” he admonished. Marjorie frowned. Willy thought she was going to stroke his forehead. ‘She wants to, I’ll bet,’ he thought. Once again he glanced at her partly exposed bosom and felt distinct stirrings.

  Stephen asked: “Are you going to build another model?”

  “Don’t know. Not sure.”

  “You should. It was a superb model,” Stephen replied. “What was its name?”

  “Hindenburg,” Noddy cried.

  “No it wasn’t!” Willy snapped angrily. “She was the L59, the ‘Afrika Ship’.”

  “L59? What did the ‘L’ stand for?” Stick asked.

  “Luftschiff. It’s German. It means ‘airship’,” Willy replied, gesturing to some magazines and books on his bedside table.

  “Why the Africa Ship?” Stephen asked.

  “Because it was specially built to take supplies to the German Army trapped in central Africa.”

  “Was that General Rommel’s Afrika Korps in the desert?” Noddy asked.

  “No. Wrong war. It was in World War One, in 1917. The Germans had a colony in East Africa called Tanganyika. They had a small army there which the allies had been trying to catch since 1914,” Willy replied.

  Stephen picked up one of the magazines and flicked it open at a book mark. “Here it is.” He pointed to a photo and read the caption: “L59 about to take off from Jamboli in Bulgaria on her flight to Africa.” He showed the others the photo.

  “Bulgaria? What on earth were they doing there?” Noddy asked.

  “Bulgaria was a German ally and was the closest airship base to Africa,” Willy explained.

  “Strewth! It was big,” Stephen commented. He read aloud: “L59 was 743 feet long- that’s about 250 metres; and contained nearly two and a half million cubic feet of gas. She had a crew of 28, all from the navy; 5 engines; and could lift 15 tons of cargo. There’s a list here of all the things they carried on the trip. Just listen to this: 311 000 rounds of small arms ammunition; 30 machine guns, 4 rifles, 9 spare machine gun barrels, 61 sacks of bandages plus medicine, mail, binoculars, clothing, rifle bolts, bush knives and radio equipment.”

  “How long could it fly before it ran out of gas?” Noddy asked

  “Gas? Do you mean petrol, gasoline?” Willy asked.

  “No. Gas. Hydrogen.”

  Willy realized his friend didn’t understand. “It’s not like that. Airships only lost gas if they went above what was called their ‘pressure height’. Then some of the gas would escape through safety valves. Otherwise their endurance was limited only by their fuel supply and ballast. It says somewhere in there that L59 was four days in the air and still had enough fuel left to go on for another three days.”

  “A whole week in the air!” Stick exclaimed “How far could they fly?”

  “L59 went from Bulgaria across the Mediterranean Sea and south over the Sahara Desert to Central Africa and then back- thousands of kilometres,” Willy replied.

  “Others used to fly across the Atlantic Ocean didn’t they?” Stephen asked.

  “Yes. Back in the 1920s a German airship called the Graf Zeppelin once flew around the world and only landed three times. She regularly flew the South Atlantic from Germany to South America,” Willy replied.

  “Did this L59 succeed in its mission?” Stick asked.

  “No. It was ordered to turn back,” Willy replied.

  “Why was that?”

  “Apparently the German High Command received a report that the place where they planned to land had been captured by the British,” Willy explained.

  “Why not land somewhere else?” Stephen asked.

  “It seems they did not know which places were still in German hands.”

  “Didn’t the Germans have radios?” Noddy asked.

  “Apparently not. That is why the zeppelin was carrying wireless equipment in its cargo. They planned to dismantle the airship and use part of its aluminium framework and rigging wires to erect a radio mast; and to use the airship’s engines and generators to provide the electricity.”

  Stick looked up from the map of L59’s route that he was studying. “How fast could airships travel?” he queried.

  “It said sixty three miles per hour in this old magazine, but some were faster and could do over seventy,” Willy replied.

  “What’s that in kilometres per hour?” Noddy asked.

  “Bit over a hundred.”

  Noddy looked amazed. “Strewth! That’s moving. I thought they just blew along with the wind.”

  “No. That is what happens to free balloons, like those hot air balloons they use for joy rides.”

  “Oh! I’ve seen them,” Noddy cried. “They fly over Mareeba every morning.”

  Willy nodded, but the mention of Mareeba caused a sharp stab of pain and conjured up images of Uncle Ted’s funeral- of the coffin being lowered. He shivered.

  “Didn’t the wind affect them?” Stephen asked.

  “Yes, but airships could fly in all weathers,” Willy answered.

  “Oh bull! What about storms?” Noddy asked.

  “They could fly in storms. They didn’t like it and a couple broke up from the turbulence but rain and fog didn’t affect them in the way it affected aeroplanes.”

  “What about lightning?” Stephen asked. “Wouldn’t it blow them up?”

  “As a general rule, no. Only if they were above their pressure height and venting hydrogen at the time,” Willy explained. “I read somewhere that out of one hundred and six German zeppelins only one or two were definitely lost to lightening strikes. There is an account in that article about L59 in a storm.”

  “Yes. Here it is,” Stephen said. “I’ll read it. ‘The L59 was passing the island of Crete when intermittent sheet lightning gave way to a real thunderstorm.’ This is at night by the way. ‘The strength of the wind increased steadily so that she could make no headway’.”

  “See! The wind did affect them,” Noddy cried.

  Stephen frowned and went on reading: “’Next came a report from the lookout man on the ship’s back that it had begun to rain heavily. The zeppelin was enveloped by clouds. Vertical gusts buffeted the ship and the bows rose and fell like a ship in a heavy sea. Continuous lightning lit up the swirling clouds. Rain and hail lashed the windows of the gondola. It was impossible to keep the zeppelin at the altitude of 2,000 feet and at time she was only about 1,000 feet above the sea, little more than her own length.’

  ‘Then came a report from the lookout man on the upper platform: “The ship is on fire!”. The airship lit up by lightning, had become heavily charged by electricity and the whole upper surface glowed with the blue flame known as St Elmo’s Fire. It flashed and streamed from the machine guns and from metal struts and wires. Men servicing the engines or attempting to walk along the narrow corridor in the keel received shocks when they touched the metal. The storm went on for over two hours but at last the ship came out safely into clear air over the central Mediterranean’.”

  Stick shook his head. “Bugger that! I wouldn’t have wanted to be in a zeppelin,” he said.

  “Then I suspect you had the choice of U Boats or the trenches,” Stephen observed dryly.

  Stick said, “It was lightning that did for the Hindenburg.”

  “It was not. It was sabotage,” Noddy said. “I saw it in a movie.”

  “That’s just speculation,” Willy said. “I agree with Stick. I saw a TV program called ‘Air Crash Investigators’ and they showed how the Hindenburg had flown through a thunderstorm and was charged with electricity and when they dropped the wet mooring rope it earthed and caused sparks as all the metal parts sent sparks to jump the gaps and that set fire to hydrogen that had leaked from a gas bag.”

  “I saw that,” Stick agreed. “They said that the Hindenburg did some sharp turns just before approaching the mooring mast and they think that several bracing wires snapped under tension and ripped open one or more gas bags.”

  “That’s
right,” Willy agreed.

  Stephen frowned and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I read somewhere that it was the paint on the outer skin; that it included aluminium articles and other stuff that make up a chemical called ‘Thermite’.”

  “It does, but only in the right proportions,” Willy agreed. “But the ‘Mythbusters’ tested that theory and came to the conclusion that if it was the skin it would have burned slowly and taken a couple of hours to burn from end to end. As it was it burnt up in about a minute.”

  “Yes, it went very fast,” agreed Stick.

  “What amazes me is how anyone got out of the thing,” Stephen said. “When you watch the newsreel films it looks like just one huge fireball.”

  Willy nodded. “But if you look carefully you can see the people jumping out of the bottom and running away,” he added.

  “Did they have parachutes?” Noddy asked.

  Willy shook his head. “Parachutes had only just been invented and most airship crewmen didn’t have much faith in them. Most commanders refused to carry them to save weight.”

  “But what if a zeppelin blew up? They did, didn’t they?” Stephen asked.

  “Yes they did, if they were hit by anti aircraft fire or incendiary bullets from a fighter plane. Most were shot down in flames. The crew used to jump rather than be burnt to death,” Willy said.

  “Urk! Yuk! What a ghastly way to die!” Noddy exclaimed.

  Ghastly death flashed through Willy’s mind. He said, well aware of the throbbing pain of his burnt hands: “I’d jump too, rather than be burnt.”

  “But why not use a parachute then?” Stick asked.

  “I suppose because most of the people were underneath and if they jumped with a parachute the burning wreckage then fell on them as they descended,” Willy surmised.

  They were all silent for a moment, trying to imagine this horrible situation.

  Stephen spoke first: “The blokes on the roof might have had a chance,” he suggested.

  Again Willy shook his head. “I don’t think so. The flames go upwards. That’s why so many were able to escape from the Hindenburg.”

  “Did they have men on the roof?” Noddy asked in astonishment.

  “Yes. At least three machine gun positions in the naval zeppelins,” Willy replied.

  “How did they get up there?” Noddy asked.

  “Oh that was easy. There were ladders between the gasbags. Men had to be able to climb around inside to make repairs to things like bracing wires and to mend leaks,” Willy said.

  “Gosh! Those zeppelins must have been quite something. I thought they were just a big gas bag,” Stick said.

  “The blimps were; the non-rigids and semi-rigids,” Willy explained. ‘And I’m half rigid from looking at Marjorie’s boobs!’ he thought. He swallowed and looked away. ‘She knows I’m looking and is doing that deliberately,’ he decided. He switched his mind back to airships with an effort. “The non-rigids often had more than one compartment, or several gas bags and pressure cells called ‘ballonets’ which helped them to keep their aerodynamic shape in the wind,” he explained.

  “They must have been a sight to see,” Stephen said while flicking over the pages of one of the magazines.

  “Yes. I wish I’d seen one,” said Willy wistfully.

  “Did any other countries but Germany build airships?” Stick asked.

  “Only a few built dirigibles: Britain and the USA. Italy, Spain, Austria and Russia built non-rigids and semi-rigids and so did the British and Americans. The British had dozens of them which they used for anti-submarine patrols.”

  “Anti-submarine! Were they any use?” Stephen asked.

  “I read in there that they were very good, that not one ship was lost to submarine attack in either world war from a convoy escorted by an airship,” Willy answered.

  “Oh bull! I don’t believe that,” Noddy said.

  Willy shrugged. Sometimes he didn’t care what Noddy thought. He went on to test his credulity more by saying: “Well it’s true. The Americans built some huge dirigibles between the wars which even carried flights of fighter planes inside them. They could launch them when in flight.”

  “Oh they did not! You are pulling my leg!” Noddy cried. He made such snorts of disbelief that Willy was exasperated.

  “No I’m not. Give me that book Steve,” Willy said. He leafed through it until he found the photo he sought. “Here. The Akron and the Macon. Each carried four fighter planes.”

  Noddy studied the photos but still looked sceptical. Stick looked at them as well, then asked, “Did the planes land on top?”

  Willy shook his head. “No, they flew in underneath and hooked onto a trapeze framework which then lifted them up inside the hangar. They even did it at night,” he answered. He turned the book to show one of the biplane fighters in the act of hooking on.

  “Incredible! They can have that,” Stephen said.

  “Are there any airships still around?” Noddy asked.

  “No rigids- that’s the dirigibles, the ones with the metal frameworks. But the Yanks and Russians used to use non-rigids until a few years ago. I don’t know if there are any left,” Willy replied.

  “What on earth would they use them for in this day and age?” Stick asked.

  “Apparently airships made of plastic and nylon have very low radar and infra-red signatures so the Yanks used them as airborne radar stations and to hunt submarines. There is a list of them here.” He flicked through the book.

  Stephen leaned over and pointed: “Oh yes. GOODYEAR Blimps. There are a couple still in use for advertising.”

  “I saw one in Sydney, the HOLDEN blimp,” Stick agreed. “It is red and flies around with a big sign lit up on its sides.”

  Willy turned the book and held it so they could see a photo. “The Russians used them for forestry to lift trees out of inaccessible areas in Siberia, and to lift heavy and awkward loads in, like power pylons onto mountain tops,” he explained.

  “They don’t look as flash as the Yankee ones,” Noddy commented.

  “Does anything Russian?” Stephen asked with a laugh.

  “Just as well Peter Bronsky can’t hear you,” Willy grinned.

  Stick asked: “Weren’t there some airships here in Australia a few years ago?”

  “Yes, ‘Bond’ Airships. They were plastic jobs built in Britain. They were used to advertise ‘SWAN’ Lager and for scientific experiments, but I think a storm wrecked them,” Stephen said.

  “The storm wrecked their hangar and damaged them,” Willy corrected.

  “I’ve seen an airship,” Noddy stated.

  “Oh bull! Where?” Stick snorted.

  “Last time we drove to Townsville. At a shop beside the Bruce Highway at Mutarnee. It was tied to the shop and had ‘Frosty Mango’ written on it.”

  They all laughed. Stephen said: “You’re a goose Noddy. That’s just a little advertising blimp. I saw one at a Car Sales place the other day.”

  “I saw that,” Stick said.

  “So did I,” Willy added. “So did the whole of Cairns. That’s the point of an advertising blimp. No, I’d like to see a real airship. I’d like to fly one.”

  “You had a go,” Stephen reminded.

  They all turned and looked at Marjorie. She blushed and made an involuntary gesture to pull her skirt over her knees. “Don’t remind me,” she said.

  They all laughed again but Willy had to force it as it coincided with another painful memory of Uncle Ted.

  “Are you going to build another airship Willy?” Stick asked.

  “Yes. Dad said he would help if I could build a model airship that really flew,” Willy replied.

  “You have. That model was flying by itself today,” Stick pointed out.

  Noddy snickered and said, “Till it ran into enemy anti aircraft fire.”

  The others laughed but Willy scowled. The memory hurt as much as his burns. Stick added to his discomfiture by asking: “Why did Scranton do that Willy?” />
  Willy glanced at Marjorie. He hoped she would give up if she knew about his feelings for Barbara- but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, knowing it would hurt her and humiliate her in front of the others. Even as he answered he scorned himself for such cowardly and deceitful thoughts.

  “Just playing the fool,” he said. “I think he was just trying to scare me, as a joke. I don’t think he meant to burn the model.”

  “He didn’t,” Stephen agreed. “He looked like a stunned mullet when it caught fire.”

  Noddy made a gesture with his hands. “Boy! Didn’t it burn!” he cried. “I thought the whole school was gunna catch fire.”

  “Pity it didn’t,” Stephen said.

  “Are you going to make another model,” Stick asked.

  Willy shrugged. “Maybe. It’s a lot of work.”

  Marjorie put her hand on his arm. “Yes Willy, please build another model. It looked so pretty,” she urged.

  Stephen agreed. “Yeah Willy. Don’t give up over a mongrel like Scranton. It was a terrific model. Build another one and fly it at the fete.”

  Willy thought for a moment. The fete. That would be a good time to impress Barbara. A model zeppelin might just do it. “Yeah. OK.”

  CHAPTER 9

  TROUBLE AT SCHOOL

  After his friends had gone Willy lay back on his pillow and slowly turned the pages of Robinson’s book ‘Giants of the Sky’. His imagination wandered off so that he became the captain of a zeppelin. It was dark and they were climbing into clouds to avoid the searchlights of British warships. But it was bright moonlight and there were gaps in the cloud. A searchlight fixed them in its beam. Bam! An anti aircraft shell burst nearby. Bam! Bam! More shell bursts. Steel splinters fly. There are men hit; and leaking gas. The crew rush to make emergency repairs. Willy is injured but struggles up and begins to give orders to control the panic. There is a flicker of flame. Horrors! Fire! No! Willy cut the thought out; and became very conscious of the pain from his burns.

  “Return to earth Willy. It is tea time.”

  Willy looked around in surprise. “Oh! Hi Dad.”

  “You were miles away then,” his father said, walking into the room and sitting on the bed. “How are you?”