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Aviation History
1917
1917 - 1221.PDF
NOVEMBER 22, 1917. THE LOW ALTITUDE PARACHUTE RECORD. A CREAKY rickety lift conveys to the summit of the towers of the Tower Bridge those who may have occasion to go there. Once civilians passed freely over the top when the bascules were raised, and the joy-ride in the lift was thrown in gratuitously by an indulgent County Council. But the exigencies of war have altered all that, and now none but the privi- leged may enter the crocky contraption. The lift, however, still persists in spite of that, and, very much in spite of the prevailing deficiency of oil and power, it grinds its way painfully up to the top in some sixty seconds ? Ancient Bill, or whatever may be the name of the ear-ringed old salt who pilots it on its aerial journey, thinks it is a very good lift and feigns pained surprise should one adversely criticise his wobbly cabin ; but then probably Old Bill does not do Iris shopping at Selfridges. Into this uninviting chamber on the chilly morning of November nth was ushered a small party of aerial experts, comprising a couple of prospective parachutists and two skilled assistants. They were assembled together as the outcome of long-planned arrangements for testing a new type of low-level parachute. This has been designed by Mr. Everard Calthrop for the purpose of checking the very con- siderable mortality amongst aviators resulting from accidents which are prone to happen within a few hundred feet of the ground. For this occasion Mr. Calthrop, with the charac- teristic thoroughness of an inventor, had formulated an elaborate code of signals with coloured flags. Various supplementary parties with cinematograph cameras, having duly OTen initiated into the flag- wagging rites, stationed themselves at as many points of vantage for the purpose of making biographic records of the descent. The first descent was due to take place shortly after 10 a.m., and the officer who was to undertake it was seated in the lift shortly after that time. Having long desired to make a drop in a para- chute, he at first bore with the long delays patiently enough, but when a quarter, then half, then three- quarters of an hour elapsed, he gave way to expressions of apprehensive impatience akin to the things one would say to a painless tooth-extractor who waved his forceps over the patient's head for half- an-hour or more, before perpetrating his excruciating torture. The arrival of cheerful pals in the nick of time prevented the would-be parachutist from re- tracting from his undertaking and fleeing, half clad, in the direction of the Mint and safety. Just when his indecision was on the point of collapse, word came through that at last all was in order, the cheerful pals decamping with a cheery " Best of Luck " and a change of dry " togs "in a dressing bag. Old Bill immediately closed the complicated doors of the cage, which had now become a veritable prison from which there was no backsliding, and, in response to much pulling of ropes, the old box protestingly commenced its long upward journey. The skilled assistants, expert parachute-packers, or whatever they aspired to be, were untiring in theii efforts to revive interest in the wretched aviator, first encouraging him by attending to the adjust- ment of his life-saving waistcoat, then caj oling him with references to his obligations, now threatening him with the aerial scandal that would arise if the project were not carried out. After many quirks and groans on the part of Old Bill and the lift, the former announced that the latter had arrived at the limit of its travel, and with punc- tiliousness worthy of a Swiss station-master on a mountain railway he proceeded to unbar the series of fortified doors that gave on to the upper platform. Here an armed Royal Marine sentry, with six good conduct badges on the sleeve of his blue coat, and a typical sergeant-major of the old Marine variety, closely vise"d the passes of the party and admitted them one by one to the sacred portals. On coming to the now dejected parachutist their enthusiasm in finding he was one of their own officers (seconded to the R.F.C.) was immense, an enthusiasm which was responded to by the parachutist, who now felt that for the credit of his old corps of Royal Marines it was up to him to show a bold face, and not to shrink from the responsibilities imposed upon him. Thereafter until the moment of the eventful plunge there was no retreat. Now it so happened that the officer in question evinced a rooted objection to making a feet-first drop, on account of the severe nervous qualms he always felt when making steep descents in an aeroplane and also on board of a pitching ship. He therefore deter- mined to make a head-first dive of it in spite of earnest counsels to the contrary on the part of the two experts. With this end in view, having at one time been a bit of an amateur acrobat, he proceeded to fix up a hang- ing rope and conduct from it immediate experiments in inverted suspension. Meanwhile the parachute- folders were busy putting on the finishing touches to the launching arrangements, and it was not long before all was ready and the dreadful moment for stepping on to the taking-off. platform had arrived. Those who have had the thrilling experience of being sentenced to death and of stepping on to the gallows, if only in a nightmare, can fully appreciate what that moment was like to at least one of the aeronauts. For fifteen seconds the panic-stricken wretched experimentalist stood on the extreme edge of the parapet gazing into the abyss of the muddy old Thames one hundred and fifty feet below him. His abject terror gave way to self-reproach for having ever permitted himself to be placed in such a ridiculous position. Sentiments succeeded in rapid succession by the unthinkable possibility of defrauding the large audience that had by this time gathered around the lower bastions. Every nerve was strained with the one idea of how to gain time, how to postpone the start. By some sudden inspiration the idea occurred to him that the waterman's boat, waiting to pick him up, was immediately in the line of descent, and therefore to give it peremptory orders to clear out of it. " Get your priceless boat out of the blinking light; do you think I want to flop through the bottom of the bally thing ? " and so on, echoed from the summit of the bridge. Until that moment he had had implicit confidence in Mr. Calthrop's invention, but now followed a battle of doubts and reassurances much in the order named. " What if the beastly thing doesn't open ? " " That would mean striking the water at one hundred and forty miles per hour. Would one burst if one did a ' belly-flop ' at that speed ? Probably one would."L 1221
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