Worldwide Air Freight

Biggest single war problem of the United Nations is transportation. The problem was tough when the first Lend-Lease shipments made the 3,900-mile trip to Britain, got tougher when the supply lines stretched 5,000 miles to Russia and Africa, reached the limits of toughness when the Far East blew up, 10,000 miles away. To serve all these routes there is only a thin line of poky, fat-bellied ships-a line that gets thinner as the routes get longer and enemy subs sock home their war heads.

Coming up fast is an astonishing solution : the airplane, not as a flashy offensive weapon, but as a plain, hardworking, jack-of-all-transport. Such air transports drummed the skies of the world last week, their hulls loaded with the seeds of offensives to come.

Last week lean, weather-beaten Colonel Harold Lee ("Bombardment") George, 48, replaced Brigadier General Bob Olds as chief of the U.S. Air Force Ferrying Command. Bombardment George's job is a lulu: he is responsible for the transport of all planes from U.S. factory lines to the place of use, whether in the U.S. or at front lines in Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia. He must cram all possible men, equipment and supplies into every outgoing plane, must find and train pilots on the side.

The ferrying service was set up last June to ferry big-&-little bombers from West Coast factories to Montreal and Florida jump-off places. Through November the service used 300 school-fresh pilots, got 1,000-plus planes East, with only two fatal accidents. It dovetailed so well with the R.A.F.'s transatlantic-ferry service that last fall as many as 38 bombers a day took off for Britain. The record: hundreds of planes delivered, three lost.

The Atlantic. Thus started, A.F.F.C. mushroomed, soon ferried hundreds of planes over the South Atlantic to Africa; over the Pacific to U.S. outposts, to China, the Dutch East Indies and Australia. The U.S.-Africa run was started only four months ago by veteran over-water flyers -mostly from Pan American Airways. Planes now take off from Florida, hop-skip across the West Indies to steaming Brazilian airports, then jump 1,700 miles to Africa's wild & woolly Gold Coast.

The South Atlantic beat is no cinch. Squalls and typhoons range the African coast. All planes are 3,500-6,000 Ib. overloaded (extra gas, rations, war goods) at takeoff. Most African airports are still under construction-nothing to help a three-point landing. Even so, the loss record is good: about 5% at first, a bare 1% now.

To do this kind of flying takes resourceful, air-wise pilots. A.F.F.C. has them. South Atlantic ferry pilots, a poker-playing, cocksure crowd, came from U.S. airlines, the Army Air Corps, from dogfights over Spain and China. Mostly poor, civilian pilots make up to $1,000 monthly for what they call easy work. Like all good pilots, they love their planes-in Brazil sleep in jerry-built airport shacks to guard against sabotage. But the planes get wrecked in Africa anyway; one-third of the first 18 ferry-delivered ships were damaged within a few days after delivery.

The Pacific. Across the Pacific, A.F.F.C. ferries with the help of Consolidated Aircraft's newly formed Consair, partly staffed by crack Pan-Am pilots.

This service, even newer than the South Atlantic run, is very hush-hush. Some details are known. Only planes on the run are huge four-engined jobs like Boeing Flying Fortresses, Consolidated Liberators. Regular destination is Australia, although some planes probably go on to China and India. Unlike the South Atlantic ferries--where gas is most of the load--transpacific planes are real air freighters, carry guns, ammunition and repair parts to the fighting front. The run is marvelously fast: only a few days to Australia v. 28 to 35 days by convoyed freighter.

The U.S. A.F.F.C. also has a whale of a job in the U.S. itself. Besides ferrying planes to jumping-off points, it must transport troops, carry military air freight, find or train pilots for over-water runs. As the job grew greater, it needed more management manpower. The Air Corps Chief, General H. H. ("Hap") Arnold, looked around for a helper, last week tapped tall, drawling Cyrus Rowlett Smith, American Airlines president, for the job. "C.R.," an ace airline executive, pushed American to the top of the domestic airline heap.

Airman Smith (soon to be commissioned) needed planes for air freight. At week's end the Army requisitioned 25% of all U.S. airline equipment-- 85 to 100 planes. Some 120-odd ships had already been requisitioned by the Government. Thus U.S. airlines are left with only 250-260 transports, not nearly enough to carry 1942's record-breaking traffic.

Civilian travel will be slower, but the U.S. war program will travel faster. After their silver feathers have been painted Army grey, the newly requisitioned ships will go to Army airfields, ready to transport officers, soldiers or war-rushed Federal bigwigs. But the new planes will mainly serve the Army as a freight pickup and delivery service.

The Future. Whatever the airplane does to speed the U.S. war program now is only a flyspeck on the future. Last week aggressive, farsighted Glenn L. Martin, who 29 years ago helped the Army with its first bombardment experiment, and who has specialized in making giant multiengined airplanes ever since, told engineers in Detroit: "My company already has plans for a 250,000-pound commercial air vessel. . . . Our studies show that no technical considerations limit the size of airplanes. . . . We should be able to build 500,000-lb. airplanes in a very few years.''

Even to such hard-boiled dreamers as the aviation engineers, this prediction was a jolt. The world's two biggest planes --the Army's much-touted Douglas Big bomber and Martin's own flying boat Mars--both tip the scales at 140,000 Ib. Any plane two or three times this size would be an almost incredible weapon. As a bomber it could fly from the U.S. to Berlin with 75-125 tons of bombs tucked in its belly, still have plenty of fuel for the return trip. As a transport it could tote 125 fully equipped soldiers, have room for a light 13 1/2-ton tank to boot.

Newly promoted Bombardment George might wish he had planes like Martin's dreamboats. But he was doing pretty well. His A.F.F.C. was only ten months old, but already bigger than all 17 privately owned U.S. airlines combined. And by 1943--when U.S. factories will be pounding out 125,000 planes annually--the A.F.F.C. will be far bigger than all the world's airlines put together.

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