formerly "The View From Up Here"

Formerly titled "The View From Up Here" this column began in the Liberty Gazette June 26, 2007.

Be sure to read your weekly Liberty Gazette newspaper, free to Liberty area residents!

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

August 29, 2017 Safety in Racing from Aviation

The Liberty Gazette
August 29, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: World War I Ace, Eddie Rickenbacker, was a pilot and race driver. He was president of Eastern Airlines, owned Rickenbacker Motor Company, and raced in the Indianapolis 500 the first four years it existed as such. He even owned the Speedway for a time. But when he went to war he was, like all other pilots, denied a parachute.

Commanding officers refused to allow American fighter pilots to wear parachutes, thinking they’d be less aggressive and bail at the first sign of trouble. Concerning the deaths of two friends, Captain Eddie wrote in his journal, “Cannot help but feel, that it was criminal negligence on the part of those higher up for not having exercised sufficient forethought and seeing that we were equipped with parachutes for just such emergencies.”

Those higher-ups finally realized pilots were more important than airplanes, but it was too late for some.

For decades people talked about what a great idea it would be if not just pilots, but airplanes too had parachutes. Last week we mentioned Boris Popov’s airplane parachute that has resulted in hundreds of successful floating landings when engine trouble prompted pilots to pull the chute.

Many safety enhancements have come from the aviation and auto industries, and speaking of pop-offs, that’s what they call the pressure relief valve that was one of the mandatory changes on Indy race cars in 1974, following the previous year’s horrific fiery crashes. Major changes to Indy car fuel systems also required fuel tank capacity reduction, from seventy-five gallons to forty, and the breakaway gas tank.

Breakaway tank technology wasn’t new, but made its way to Indy because the crashes in ‘73 might have been survivable.

Engineers with the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, NASA’s predecessor, had worked with engineers from Bell Helicopter and Goodyear, testing their research on military helicopters. Choppers were dropped, data analyzed, refinements made, and in 1970, after a decade of work, the Crash-Resistant Fuel System was added to Army helicopters used in the Vietnam War.

The technology would be applied next to civilian aircraft, and eventually to automobiles. But after that devastating year at Indy, and the realization that the lives of race drivers Art Pollard and Swede Savage might have been spared, officials mandated changes to fuel systems.

The race was on to adopt aviation innovation. They’d make tanks from different materials, re-position them to be less susceptible to rupture, and install fittings that would break away on impact. This had become an emergency. No one wanted the hell fires of 1973.

It’s a time I still remember with chills. The year after these changes, fan favorite and math-teacher-turned-race-driver Tom Sneva flipped and smashed into the wall in turn two. He climbed out of the broken car, dazed, but okay, the blazing parts yards away. For Mr. Sneva, it meant he’d return to be the first to break two hundred miles an hour at Indy, and today he can play as much golf and gin rummy as he wishes.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

August 22, 2017 But Seriously, Folks

The Liberty Gazette
August 22, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: If you say “cirrus” in the right crowd, any member of the Cloud Appreciation Society, any weather worshiper, will know you’re talking about a non-threatening cloud. Cirrus clouds are those thin wisps you see way up high, but not as high as stars, or even satellites. If we didn’t think Siriusly about it, we might think it sounds like our weather is going to the dogs–like our astronomical humor–but when it comes to cirrus, it’s a good day to be outside.

When strong winds in the troposphere sweep the carefree cirrus, we see long, delicate streamers. Cirrus is a Latin word, meaning a ringlet or curling lock of hair. That’s a pretty good description of their appearance from afar, but these fair weather friends are actually made of ice crystals, formed when precipitation falls through colder air, and freezes. To further cloud the issue, although these “mares tails” pose no threat, they sometimes indicate a change in weather is on the horizon.

But what’s in a name? Would that which we call a cirrus, by any other name still draw lines like chalk dust spread by angel wings, or decorate with dainty sky feathers?

What fogs the picture these days is an aircraft company that makes both piston and jet airplanes. The company, Cirrus Aircraft, came up in an internet search ahead of the cloud type when I entered “cirrus.” To say I was blown away is a dramatization of an understatement.

Cirrus Aircraft builds airplanes with ballistic parachutes. These chutes aren’t the kind pilots strap on their backs. These are manufactured into the airplane. While the parachute was engineered into the Cirrus design to meet certain FAA requirements, the marketing opportunity turned out to be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The Cirrus couldn’t pass FAA tests requiring an airplane to be able to recover from a one-turn spin, so they integrated a parachute and asked the feds to accept it in place of a spin recoverable design.

Orders rained down on happy Cirrus sales representatives when non-pilot spouses agreed to strap the family budget with the perception that their favorite pilot would be safer in an airplane with a parachute.

But cirrusly, folks, it’s true. For almost a century people talked about the whole-airplane parachute idea. But not until 1975 did someone finally do something about it. It was a guy whose hang glider collapsed, who was angry over feeling helpless while in a four hundred-foot plunge. In those falling moments Boris knew, if he’d had a parachute, his odds of surviving would be better. Fortunately, he did survive and what he did in response to that anger was build a product that saves lives.

We’ll have more next week on safety initiatives. I’m sure I’m not the only one who enjoys the irony that Ballistic Recovery Systems was founded by a man with the last name of Popov.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

August 15, 2017 Wins and Fails

The Liberty Gazette
August 15, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Another Indy Air Race is in the books – seventh annual – and once again we celebrated. Not just air racing, but the annual airport open house and benefit.

The fastest airplane, a Glasair, completed the one hundred thirty-three mile course at two hundred fifty-six miles an hour. The slowest airplane in the field, competing in a smaller horsepower class against similar airplanes was a vintage 1946 Stinson 108 which flew one hundred and nine miles an hour.

While racing feeds the competitive appetite, the best part of the Indy Air Race is joining in support of Down Syndrome Indiana. In the festive atmosphere families run from bounce house to face painting to candy and games with super heroes and island princesses. Of course, guests are drawn to the uniqueness of airplanes on the ramp, and race pilots happy to talk with them about flying. Every year, this is a winning day for everyone.

It also brings another chance for us to visit with family: Mom, sister, niece and nephew, and our brother-in-law, Mike Lyons, the cyclist.

A few days before the air race there came a dark and stormy night. Mike Lyons had a group ride and when he returned he summed it up with this:

“Wins & Fails from this evening’s ride:
Win: Meeting up with friends for another ride, led by Doug.
Win: Going for it amidst questionable skies.
Fail: Murphy the dog chases us down the road.
Win: Doug turns around to lead him back to owner. 
Fail: Starts to sprinkle.
Win: Because of Murphy, we aren’t far out.
Win: Doug wisely calls off ride, all get back to the church mostly dry.
Fail: I decide to keep riding.
Win: I dodge the obvious ominous storm clouds.
Fail: For ten minutes.
Win: During the monsoon-like torrent my bike gets clean.
Fail: The front drops the temperature to 62.
Win: In an effort to stay warm I bike 20-26 miles an hour.
Fail: At 26 miles an hour, I start to hydroplane, nearly crashing.
Fail: Pretty sure I wet myself.
Win: Rain rinses me clean.
Fail: Lightning strikes extremely close.
Win: I’m not struck.
Win: It jars a ball of wax loose from left ear, I can hear better.
Fail: With wax build-up gone, another close strike leaves ears ringing.
Win: I’m not struck.
Fail: Wet myself again.
Win: Keeps raining and rinsing off.
Fail: Return to truck cold and wet.
Win: Return to truck.
Fail: Phone got wet.
Win: Dried out and works.
Win: Got in 25 miles.
Win: Should smell like a toddler after four sippy cups, but don’t thanks to riding in a hard rain. Takeaway: Despite the Wins, when everyone turns back...I should, too.”

Mike: I admire our brother-in-law’s determination to finish the ride, and to challenge a thunderstorm like a super hero with a light sabre, but we opted to stay clear of those airplane-eaters on our flight back to Texas.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

August 8, 2017 Hanging In, Hanging Out

The Liberty Gazette
August 8, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: I’d climbed to seventy-five hundred feet, and would cruise at this altitude over the cliffs below me, all around. This is Cajon Pass, where adventurers are drawn to hang glide through the saddle between the San Gabriel and San Bernardino Mountains. The pass offers ideal lift and wind to carry a motor-less hang glider to a vantage point above the sculpted earth, alone with the whoosh of the air. From my altitude, they appear suspended, like mud-daubers; like wings with pods dangling beneath them. I call them adventuresome partly because these intrepid souls soaring through the pass initiate their flight by stepping off a cliff, trusting their wings.

On the cliff, they strap into their contraptions, hoist their bulky load and run downhill until the air blows across their wing to create enough lift. At first, the wind catches and holds them aloft and their legs drop momentarily like an eagle’s talons ready to snatch its prey. But the force quickly pushes their bodies horizontal, streamlined with the craft, as they shift their weight to steer.

In this pass, sometimes they swoop down low along the slope, rolling from side to side, twenty feet off the ground. If updrafts are present, they stay in the air longer, soaring along the rising terrain. Once they land, in a field or a parking lot, the flyers free themselves from their people-lifting kites, satisfied by the exuberance of human flight.

When I’m in a sailplane I also use thermals – columns of rising air that develop from unevenly heated ground – to stay up in the sky. But the way a sailplane starts its adventure is different from hang gliders. My sailplane is towed into the atmosphere by an airplane. But a hang glider cannot be towed by a powerful airplane because its speed far exceeds what a hang-glider can handle; tow planes cannot fly slowly enough for them. For hang gliders the launch pad is a hill, the launcher, human legs. This has limited the sport of hang gliding to hilly areas. That is, until the Dragonfly.

The Dragonfly started life in 1990 as an ultralight airplane to meet demand. Designer Bob Bailey had one purpose in mind, tow hang-gliders where there are no hills from which to leap. Since that time with the help of these airplanes, people in flat country have been able to enjoy the thrill of soaring flight.

One of the most popular places to get a towed flight is in Florida. Most of the state is flat as a pancake, the highest point being 345 feet, at Britton Hill, near the Alabama line. With a fleet of Dragonflys, Wallaby Ranch near Lakeland, Florida has towed hang gliders nearly every day since 1992, amassing tens of thousands of flights.

Geography and geology no longer limit the hang gliding experience, thanks to the Dragonfly, a classic American success story of finding a need, filling it, and hanging in there.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

August 1, 2017 A Calling

The Liberty Gazette
August 1, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Since at least third grade Al has been fascinated by airplanes and flying. There were no home flight simulators then, but his imagination could take him places no simulator can match. He could stretch his nine or ten year old arms straight out and they’d become wings to carry him far above the green grass beneath his feet. The desire to soar would grow, but a 1950’s film captured his heart like nothing else could. In the pivotal scene, a veterinarian resuscitated a horse and as the horse ran off to a field Al felt the satisfaction of healing to his core. This was his calling.

With family members who were doctors there was plenty of support for Al to enter medicine. When he was twelve, the uncle who was a thoracic surgeon let Al watch an operation removing a lung. By way of Baylor, he came to Methodist Hospital, where his neurosurgical practice has been helping people for thirty-seven years.

When he’s not performing brain surgery Dr. Alfonso Aldama can be found at the Soaring Club of Houston, and you’ll get no argument if you claim he’s the hardest worker in the club.

Dr. Aldama was introduced to soaring in the 1980’s by retired U.S. Air Force Colonel Vern Frye, who flew F-105s in Vietnam and was in Chuck Yeager’s squadron in Germany. After riding with the colonel in a Schweitzer 233, Dr. Aldama learned about the Soaring Club of Houston and signed right up. He flew for several years after earning his glider license but took a hiatus to raise a family. Now that the children are grown, he splits his time between two activities he loves.

“I love to fly, and it’s very similar to neurosurgery,” he told me. “My flying helps my operating and my operating helps my flying. Both require precision and attention to detail. You have to develop obsessive-compulsive behavior because one tenth of a millimeter can change the outcome of surgery. One mistake in flying can be fatal.”

He’s logged 1200 flights, but not all were perfect. Once while doing spins in a Blanik the canopy opened, ripping off the front hinge. He didn’t want it to hit the tail so he grabbed it with his right hand and radioed Oran Nicks, the club instructor on duty. Nicks had been the director of the wind tunnel lab and designed the space shuttle and “was calm as a cucumber,” saying, “it’ll just create some drag.” Holding tight to the canopy, he juggled the flaps with his left hand, controlled the stick with his knees, and the rudders with his feet, letting go of the canopy when he landed safely.

Another time, the rain cloud he thought was far enough away reached the runway before he did. “It was as though my windshield was covered by a blanket. I peered through a two-inch opening on the side to see the grass runway and hoped I was at the right angle to land.”

He graciously credits more experienced pilots for sharing their passion and expertise. While healing is his lifework that feeds his soul, soaring is the vitamins that enrich.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

July 25, 2017 Royal Flying

The Liberty Gazette
July 25, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: My sister the genealogist – every family needs one – informed me last month of the birthday of Edward VIII, King of the United Kingdom and the Dominions of the British Empire, and Emperor of India. His real name was Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David. I imagine his parents were either indecisive or grateful to many people. Actually, about half the name honors went to relatives and the other half to patron saints. He lived from June 23, 1894 to May 28, 1972 and was in Houston briefly for Dr. Michael DeBakey to operate on him.

My sister was the scholar in our family, and she obviously assumed I paid attention in some class that may have covered European royalty, as she wrote, “He’s the one who abdicated the throne to marry his lady love.”

Sure. I totally remember that. I really haven’t studied royalty much but she thought I should be interested. “Why am I telling you? Because he was the first monarch to be a qualified pilot! And he's our seventeenth cousin once removed. Raise a toast to cousin Edward!”

Not only did cousin Edward earn a private pilot license, he became the first monarch of the British Empire to fly in an aircraft when after his father’s death he flew from Sandringham to London for his Accession Council. He also created The King's Flight in 1936 to provide air transport for the Royal family's official duties.

Incidentally, his father, Edward VII, was known as Prince Albert before being crowned king. Tobacco king R. J. Reynolds personally named one of his products after Edward VII. The portrait of him as Prince Albert that graced the side of the tobacco tin was based on one Reynolds acquired at a tea party with Mark Twain. The favorite joke of kids in the 1930’s and 1940’s was to call a drug store and ask, “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?” When the person replied yes, the pranksters laughed, “Well you’d better let him out!”

My sis comes up with amazing finds in the history of our chromosomes, and had the former King Edward VIII actually been a decent fellow I’d be more impressed. It turns out, unfortunately, that his family accused him of being a Nazi sympathizer, and had a plethora of other complaints against him.

By contrast, Dutch King Willem-Alexander, who has been an airline pilot for twenty-one years, flying for KLM’s commuter, Cityhopper, and also for Martinair, is someone with whom I’d rather share DNA, were the choice up to me. To him, flying is relaxing because he knows he must leave his concerns on the ground. Unlike cousin Edward, King Willem-Alexander seems to appreciate the opportunity to serve as a responsible person to fly an airplane full of people. I read he was training to fly a Boeing 737 so he should be qualified as a First Officer by now. If you buy a ticket on a Dutch airline flying 737s see if you can catch a glimpse of who’s flying. You just may be escorted by royalty.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

July 18, 2017 One Man Air Force

The Liberty Gazette
July 18, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Upon learning of our upcoming book, “10 Years of Ely Air Lines” and our new company, Paper Airplane Publishing, my friend Katie asked, “What else will you be publishing, do-it-yourself flight instruction? Lt. Foulois learned to fly by mail. From Wilbur or Orville. Did you know that? I think he was at Ft. Sam Houston.”

Some of the best conversations I have are with Katie, and after brushing up on U.S. Army Major General Benjamin Foulois (pronounced foo-loy) I thought of you, who might also enjoy landing on a page of lesser known history. I’ve learned that when I hear an interesting tidbit there’s always more to the story, and Benny Foulois does not disappoint.

The Signal Corps played a significant role in the development of military aviation. In 1906 the young lieutenant went to Army Signal School and that’s where he became interested in flying. His final thesis, “The Tactical and Strategical Value of Dirigible Balloons and Aerodynamical Flying Machines” included:

“In all future warfare, we can expect to see engagements in the air between hostile aerial
fleets. The struggle for supremacy in the air will undoubtedly take place while the
opposing armies are maneuvering for position.”

A visionary, he forecast a hundred and nine years ago that airplanes would replace horses in reconnaissance, and even imagined wireless air-to-ground communication, including transmitting photographs. His ambition and smarts won him a seat on the new aeronautical board that would accept aircraft for testing, which led to him being the first military crewman.

He flew and crashed a few times in those early airplanes and flew once with Orville Wright. But when the Wright brothers were too busy to teach him to fly, they mailed instructions. Katie was right, he learned to fly by mail, or at least as a supplement to the school of hard knocking crashes.

The Army sent him to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, telling him to teach himself to fly. At 9:30 a.m. on March 2, 1910, he did just that. From the Arthur MacArthur parade field in “S.C. No. 1”, also sometimes called “Military Aircraft No. 1”, he logged his first solo takeoff, first solo landing, and his first solo crash, and established the Army Air Force.

Later he flew reconnaissance for General Pershing, searching for Pancho Villa, and led the first American aerial dogfights against the Germans during World War I.

He wrote in his memoir, “From the Wright Brothers to the Astronauts” that he wanted to be remembered for “establishing the ‘can-do’ spirit that has become traditional among our American airmen.” In 1963 on the television quiz show I've Got a Secret, his secret was that he had once been the entire U.S. Air Force. His memoir was republished in 2010 as “Foulois: One-Man Air Force”.

While I did not discover any personal connection to the arts, there is a school in Maryland named for him, the Benjamin D. Foulois Creative and Performing Arts Academy, which embraces his spirit in their motto, “Opportunities Abound...Possibilities are Endless”.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

July 11, 2017 Airplanes, Adventure, and All That Grabein Jazz

The Liberty Gazette
July 11, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Linda: Swinging to the tunes of the Charlie Gray Band always made my heart smile. Made me think of my dad. Charlie Grabein played in a different band this Fourth of July. Our world is better for the time he spent here, yet has lost some its color and jazz now that he has moved on. Charlie lived a life of service to others with a tremendous sense of adventure, early on as a Naval photographer and later as a civilian pilot and high school music teacher. In memory, we’d like to recall some of our chats with a great American, and wonderful friend.

Mike: Three Aldine area schools near Greenspoint Mall hide any trace of the small airfield that once graced the open countryside beyond Houston’s city limits. An airplane for sale there beckoned to Charles and his cousin. The motor ran, the prop turned, but otherwise the little airplane was rather ragged, worth every penny of the one hundred fifty dollars they paid to take it home to Conroe where they would breathe new life into it.

“Fabric was tearing off the wings as I flew it back. The wind was blowing and the rain coming down hard. After I landed the engine quit. It wouldn’t start again so we towed it and worked on it.” The high school boys patched their new airplane and flew it until they graduated and sold it.

Linda: Charlie went to college, married and joined the Navy. When doing aerial photography work, the Navy pilots showed him how to fly their planes once the assignment was completed. Standing in a doorway on the flight deck of a carrier, Charlie was taking shots of incoming aircraft when one came straight at him. Focusing his thirty-five millimeter movie camera, he took some fast steps back, spellbound, and filmed the Corsair’s landing breaking off the arresting hook and crashing into the wall right where Charlie had been standing. The crew rushed to the damaged aircraft and pulled the pilot out to safety.

Honorably discharged after fourteen years of service (1951-1963), with the assistance of the G.I. Bill, Charlie continued to fly, earning his civilian private pilot license.

Charlie was flying often from the Liberty Airport in the 1970’s, along with the Jamison brothers, Bob and Bill, and Johnny Meese, mechanic and airport manager. He flew until he was about seventy years old and when the time came to hang up his wings, he directed his energy to re-building a Jeep. There soon emerged a beautifully restored 1943 Willy appearing often in parades and on display.

Mike: Charlie was a self-exciting magneto on a piston engine airplane. I treasure our hangar flying sessions, each one a thrill with wonderful tales of his lifelong love affair with flying. He was a breath of fresh air and a joy to listen to, on clarinet and saxophone, and in his storytelling. A good storyteller re-lives the story. A great one lets his audience live it too. Thank you, Charlie, for sharing your spirit.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

July 4, 2017 Allan Chambers' Letters Home - Week 4/4

The Liberty Gazette
July 4, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Four weeks have flown by faster than a light-speed time machine to 1946. We’re wrapping up the final excerpts of Allan Chambers’ Letters Home. He had just quit flying the Hump the last week. Let’s see where he ended up after that.

May 5, 1946 Shanghai I just got back from Chungking. The next time I go out it’ll probably be for a couple of weeks.

May 31, 1946 Shanghai I haven’t flown for a week because everybody’s on strike. We quit flying the Hump about a month ago, I was high enough on the pilots list that I wasn’t sent down there. I got about a hundred trips over the Hump when I was there. The civil war is still going on in North China. Anything can be bought on the black market.

June 7, 1946 Shanghai The Chinese Air Force took over the airline. Now we have about 3 ships flying a day and the Chinese Air Force flies 3 or 4.

June 27, 1946 Shanghai There is supposed to be a truce on the civil war but I think both sides break it each day. People all over the world never had it so good as when the U.S. Army & Navy were there, or any Americans. I will probably go to Chungking or Hong Kong tomorrow.

July 12, 1946 Shanghai I think I’m going to Hong Kong tomorrow. We are about finished moving the government to Nanking. I should be getting a $200 a month increase in pay.

July 23, 1946 Shanghai We are getting men from the U.S. every month. We have about 75 planes now and supposed to get 6 new ones next month. I am going to Hong Kong tomorrow.

August 3, 1946 Shanghai It’s hot here, but not as hot as Calcutta. I’m supposed to go to Chungking tomorrow and be back the next day. The civil war is still going on.

August 16, 1946 Shanghai We are flying passengers now like a regular airline. I flew to Kuling the other day, that is where all the big shots spend the summer months in China.

Sept. 27, 1946 Shanghai I am flying C-46’s and C-47’s and am carrying passengers to Chungking, Canton, Hong Kong, Hankow, Nanking, Tsingtao and Peiping. Summer is over.

Oct. 16, 1946 Shanghai I have transportation on the S.S. Marine Lynx to leave tomorrow for San Francisco by way of Hong Kong and Manila. The shipping company said they had an extra ticket. I better take it because it is a lot of trouble to get out of China.

Allan Chambers arrived in San Francisco in November, 1946. His wife, Billie, met him there. They were together the next 50 years until his death in 1996. After his return from China he lived in Liberty the rest of his life in the house his grandfather built.

These letters are collector’s items, so you may want to cut out this space in your newspaper and stick in your Liberty Scrap Book. When next you see Tommy, thank him for sharing part of his family’s history.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

June 27, 2017 Allan Chambers' Letters Home - Week 3/4

The Liberty Gazette
June 27, 2017
Ely Air Lines
By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

This week we offer you part three of four of Allan Chambers’ Letters Home. We left you on the plane with Allan shuttling a hundred million dollars, so hop in the jump seat, keep calm and let’s fly on.

Oct. 18, 1945 Calcutta I am back in Calcutta today. I came all the way from Shanghai in one day.  It was 13 ½ hours flying time with stops in Kunming and Dinjan. The Hump flying may be over soon.

Oct. 25, 1945 Dinjan I have been flying nearly every day. Dinjan is in a valley surrounded by mountains that usually have clouds on them.

Nov. 8, 1945 Calcutta My new job is flight instructor. We have Chinese students and they don’t understand English.

Nov. 15, 1945 Calcutta We are about finished flying the Hump. On the way down here, we flew over Myitkyina, Burma. There was a big fight for the city during the war and now there are only 2 or 3 buildings left. 

Nov. 16, 1945 Calcutta I have 3 students that I fly in the mornings. It looks like they’re going to have a real civil war here in China. I sent Billie 20 yards of silk.

Dec. 2, 1945 Calcutta Not much flying lately, our airplanes have had engine trouble. I can’t find a rosary here. Thanksgiving was last Thursday, but it was just another day for me.

Dec. 19, 1945 Calcutta I will probably be going to Shanghai the first of the year. It’s cold up in China and the Japanese took all the heating systems out of the buildings.

Dec. 28, 1945 Calcutta I’m through instructing and will be going up into China soon. This is an R.A.F. airfield and will soon be abandoned. There are millions of dollars of airplanes that are being destroyed, but I guess that’s the only thing to do.

Jan. 24, 1946 Nanking, China I have been all over China since I wrote last. Over to Chungking, Peiping 4, Hankow and up to Tsingtao. I’m going to Chungking tomorrow, hauling gasoline and bringing people back. They crowd people in these planes like you would cattle in a box car! There are a lot of Japanese planes here that people are fixing up and flying.

Feb. 3, 1946 Nanking I have been flying all over the country. I left Chungking yesterday and flew to Peiping and back to Nanking today. General Marshall was at my hotel in Peiping the last time I was there.  4

March 17, 1946 Shanghai, China There is a world of business here in China. Since C.N.A.C. is a government organization they should to have the inside track.

March 23, 1946 Hankow, China The weather is bad, cold, rainy, muddy. I’m going on my way to Nanking.

April 28, 1946 Shanghai We have been moving equipment out of Kunming. We quit flying the Hump last week. My base pay is $800 a month and up to $400 extra for overtime.

One more week left. Do not miss the final installment of Allan Chambers’ Letters Home. Keep reading them aloud, and try to live it as you read it. See you next week.

4.     Now Beijing; formerly Peiping and Peking

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com