The Airshipmen: A Novel Based on a True Story. A Tale of Love, Betrayal & Political Intrigue.

by David Dennington

  “Easier said than done. They’d lose face with their masters at the Air Ministry—and with the public, of course,” Lou said.

  “The main problem is, Thomson’s got his own personal agenda and schedule, which shouldn’t get mixed up in the development of experimental aircraft,” Wallis said.

  “Surely, their ship can’t be that b-bad, can it? They’ve removed all the unnecessary weight and they’re building in an extra b-bay. That should solve their p-problems,” Norway said.

  “Let’s hope so. But there’s still not enough time for testing. Lord Thomson is insisting they leave at the end of September,” Lou said, putting his hand to his forehead—he’d lost this battle and his disappointment showed.

  “There you have it. They’re in a mess of their own making. It’s a pity, but I vote NO to postponement,” Wallis said.

  “Hear, hear,” Norway said. Lou wished he’d not asked Burney to invite them now. That was a mistake. He may have pulled it off, one on one.

  “They must postpone and not fly until their ship has been properly tested—or throw in the towel. It’s our judgment Howden R100 is ready. Remember, government officials were on board for all our tests and accepted the ship. It only remains for us to make our intercontinental voyage and we will have fulfilled our obligations,” Burney concluded.

  They all got to their feet. There was no animosity, only total detachment between Wallis and Burney. Lou shook hands sadly with each of them.

  “I’ll see you on board then,” he said, looking at Burney and then Wallis. Wallis said nothing. He just smiled. Lou knew Wallis well enough to know there was more to that smile.

  Lou returned to Cardington and delivered the bad news to Colmore who took it hard, although he wasn’t surprised. Colmore had seen to it other parts of Brancker’s plan were being put into effect. Richmond, Rope and Irwin would have their reports ready early in the week for dissemination to all interested parties. The only trouble was, there were no interested parties that Lou could tell. The Air Ministry didn’t want to hear about any more delays, no matter how bad the reports, or who wrote them. The only person who believed the negative reporting was McWade and, as recently proved, his view didn’t count for much. Lou was frustrated; the R.A.W. wanted the Howden people to make the move so they’d appear blameless themselves. Howden was having none of that. After the debriefing, Colmore called Brancker to update him. After that, Lou went home and gave Charlotte a sanitized version of events of the past two days. She remained silent.

  Thomson and Marthe stayed at Chequers for almost two weeks. They had a lazy time reading and walking the estate or going out in Thomson’s limousine for rides in the country. When MacDonald was home, they played croquet or cards and had lively conversations. During this time, Thomson received reports of disturbing rumors. He was also told work hadn’t yet begun on parting Cardington R101. He decided not to let this spoil his time with Marthe—he’d give them some stick on his return the following week.

  58

  CANADA PREFLIGHT CONFERENCE

  Tuesday July 8, 1930.

  Lou was at his desk in his office at Cardington House when he heard a small plane go over. He went to the window and looked out.

  That must be him.

  Lou rode down to the field outside the sheds on the Brough Superior in time to see Norway’s plane flaring down onto the grass. It turned and taxied toward him from the St. Mary’s end of the field. Lou grinned. This man Nevil was ‘a bit of a lad’, as the Brits would say, landing here at Cardington like this. Lou had informed Colmore, who was much too decent to object, but others would be extremely irritated; no one at the Royal Airship Works could fly a plane. And by now, they’d heard Colmore’s overtures to Howden had failed. Lou strolled out and cast a skeptical eye over the Gypsy Moth.

  “Methinks ‘tis made of sealing wax and string!” he said.

  Norway scrambled out of the cockpit. “It’s lovely to see you, too, old man,” he said.

  “They sent me out to meet you,” Lou said.

  “Have they put out the welcome mat?”

  “They’d rather welcome a case of the pox, old buddy.”

  “Thanks,” Norway said.

  “You wanna take a look at her rear end first?”

  “Okay, let’s take a peek.”

  They rode over to Shed No. 2. Once inside, they walked to the end of the building and Norway stared up. His jaw dropped.

  “Oh, bugger me! That’s so b-bloody radical! Wallis will have a f-fit.”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It ain’t that bad!”

  They climbed aboard and inspected the work from the inside.

  “Nothing wrong with the workmanship,” Norway said. “It’s bloody good—much better than ours!”

  They drove across to Cardington House where they drank coffee in Lou’s office before heading to the conference room. The R.A.W. people were assembled: Colmore, Scott, Richmond, Rope, McWade, Booth, Meager, Atherstone, and about ten others from the design office. Lou and Norway walked in and sat at the table. Lou was surprised at the expressions of pure hatred on their faces. He knew Norway hadn’t bargained for this. It was as if Lou had brought in the devil himself. Norway filled and lit his pipe. They didn’t like that pipe. They didn't like the Harris Tweed jacket. They didn't like the leather elbow patches. They didn't like the leather edging on his breast pocket. They thought he was attempting to look older than his years, create the impression he was a mature, studious thinker.

  Colmore cleared his throat. “We’re here to discuss Howden R100’s flight to Canada. We’ll talk about preparations Commander Atherstone has made in Montreal. He’ll give us an update later. We’ll go over the preparation of the ship—provisioning, fueling, ballasting and gassing up, and the final twenty-four-hour test flight this week. We’ll talk about the crew and her officers and their roles.” At this point Colmore looked purposefully at Scott before continuing. “We’ll go over the intended schedule and routing in detail. This will take three or four hours. We’ll break for lunch at 12:30 and resume this afternoon.” Richmond raised his hand.

  “What is it, Colonel?”

  “Before we get into details, I’d like to ask Mr. Norway a few questions, if you don’t mind, sir,” Richmond said.

  “You can—providing Mr. Norway has no objection,” Colmore said. No one had been able to bring themselves to look at Norway, but suddenly their accusing eyes were upon him.

  Norway removed his pipe from his mouth. “N-N-Not at all.”

  Richmond stared down the table with contempt. “After the collapse of the tail of Howden R100 and the subsequent repairs and design corrections done by the Royal Airship Works—are you confident you can make it across the Atlantic, Mr. Norway?” Richmond asked.

  Norway swallowed hard, blinking like an owl. “W-We knew there were some p-p-problems with the tail s-section and—”

  Richmond rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward holding his head, as though perplexed. “You knew there were problems and you brought it to the Royal Airship Works, anyway? I don’t understand, Mr. Norway.”

  “W-We knew we m-may have a p-problem as something had shown up in the testing m-m-model, but we thought we’d r-resolved the issue. But they b-broke down the model b-before we could do more t-t-tests. We—”

  “So you delivered an untested airship to the government, knowing there was a good chance it still had structural problems?”

  “They weren’t m-major—”

  Richmond sat back. “I’d call the collapse of the tail in mid-flight a major problem! How do you know other structural flaws won’t surface en route to Canada—when it’s too late? And what about the wiring system holding down and securing the cover? I hear that was chafing and falling apart.”

  Colmore was listening intently with alarm.

  “We redid all the z-zigzag wiring and remedied the s-situation.”

  “Remedied the situation! That cover has a very weird look about it, if you ask me.�
��

  “There’s nothing wrong with the c-cover. We conducted s-six f-flight tests—more than a hundred and twenty hours—c-covering s-six thousand miles, many in adverse w-weather c-conditions.”

  “And then the tail collapsed. What’s going to collapse next? Maybe your ship’s getting tired, Mr. Norway. I believe a hell of a lot more testing is necessary.”

  “I-If that’s your o-opinion …” Norway was struggling for breath, his mouth puckering up like a goldfish, “you should order us n-not to under-t-take this f-flight. The ch-choice is entirely yours, s-sir,” Norway said, stabbing the air with his pipe.

  This set off much eye-rolling and sighing among the R.A.W. officials, frustrated at being beaten by someone they considered to be a stuttering fool with no airship experience. The audacity of Norway’s last statement had surprised and silenced them.

  Colmore glanced at Richmond.“Any more questions for Mr. Norway?”

  “No! We might as well talk to the wall,” Richmond said.

  “Very well then, let’s continue,” Colmore said, shaken by this exchange.

  At the lunchtime break everyone got up and went to the dining room. No one offered Norway lunch. Lou and Norway were left sitting at the table.

  “No lunch invite for you, Nev, old buddy,” Lou said, grinning.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry.”

  “Just as well—it might be laced with rat poison, mate.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Come on. Charlotte’s got sandwiches and a nice warm beer for us. Let’s go.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they entered 58 Kelsey Street where Charlotte waited. Although very pale, she looked starkly beautiful, stunning in a tight black dress and high-heeled shoes. She was expertly made up. Lou studied her gorgeous face and perfect derriere. She’d made a big effort, probably because Nevil was coming. Even after nine years, she still made Lou’s heart race. It’d been ages since they’d made love. He wished he could take her to bed for the afternoon, instead of returning to that oppressive conference room. She kissed Norway's cheek and Lou on the lips. They sat downstairs at the kitchen table looking into the garden.

  “How’s the meeting going?” Charlotte asked, placing a plate of ham sandwiches on the table.

  “Brutal,” Lou said. “Look at him—he’s black and blue!”

  “I think they’re warming up to me,” Norway said with a silly grin.

  “Hell, I must have been in the wrong room,” Lou said.

  Charlotte poured their pale ales. They were parched after Norway’s grilling and took a few welcome gulps before attacking the sandwiches.

  “Maybe you can’t blame them,” Charlotte said, fixing Norway with an icy stare.

  “Charlotte, they can elect to postpone our flight,” Norway said gently as he chewed.

  Charlotte pouted in annoyance, her full red lips emphasizing the whiteness of her skin. She flashed her eyes at him. “Nevil, you’re right, but these men have their pride and you people are bloody-well wiping the floor up with them!”

  “Not you, too, Charlotte? I’m really sorry, but their fate’s in their own hands.”

  “And what about the fate of my husband? How will you feel if anything happens to him?”

  “I’m going, too.”

  “And you’re crazy! The tail might fall off again.”

  “It didn’t f-fall off. It only b-buckled a bit. It’s f-fixed now—”

  “You’re forcing them to fly their ship! It’s a bloody deathtrap! And you won’t be on that one, will you!”

  “Not t-true. We’re n-not f-f-forcing anybody to do anything.”

  “You’re like a bunch of school kids. I’m sick of it!” Charlotte said, getting up.

  “We’d better get back. We don’t want them getting upset,” Lou said.

  “If anything happens to them all …” Charlotte began. Lou gave her a disapproving look. She picked up their two empty bottles and threw them in the bin with a clunk, turned away and went upstairs without kissing them goodbye. Lou and Norway left the rest of the sandwiches and rode back to Cardington House.

  They entered the empty conference room.

  “They’re not back yet,” Lou said.

  “I didn’t expect them to be, but I’d sooner f-face this lot than your wife,” Norway said as he filled and lit his pipe.

  “You know Charlotte loves you really, Nev. She’s worried, that’s all. She’ll be all right once these two voyages are over with.”

  They sat and waited in silence until the R.A.W. crowd filed in. The rest of the meeting went as planned and at the end Colmore passed out sheets of paper. “This is the proposed list of officers and crewmen for the flight to Canada and is subject to the approval of Captain Booth, as pilot in command,” Colmore said.

  A copy of the list was given to everyone—except Norway. Lou passed one to him. Lou scanned it: Sir Dennistoun Burney …Barnes Wallis …Nevil Norway …Fred McWade …Billy Bunyan …William Jessup and Sqn. Ldr. Archibald Wann, (from R38, which came as a big surprise to Lou). Scott’s name was at the very bottom.

  “Howden R100 will be under the command of Captain Booth, with Captain Meager as first officer. Flying Officer Steff will serve as second officer and Commander Remington as third officer and American Observer.” Colmore paused to glare at Scott. “Major Scott will be acting Rear Admiral, a ceremonial role limited to issues concerning routing and scheduling and nothing more.” This last statement was lost on most people in the room, but to Lou, it was telling—Scott couldn’t be trusted. Lou glanced at Scott who as clearly furious. “This meeting is adjourned,” Colmore announced.

  There were no pleasantries when Norway left. Booth and Meager trooped down to the field with Lou and Norway to see him off the property. A few Howden R100 crewmen joined them, including Nervous Nick. They stood around chatting for a while before Norway set off.

  “They’re all up at the windows watching you, Nev,” Lou said indicating Cardington House behind them with a sideways nod.

  “Perhaps they’d prefer to remember me as ‘C-Crash-and-B-Burn’ Norway.”

  They all thought this was pretty funny. Nervous Nick gripped the propeller and Norway gave the word to swing. The engine caught and he turned the plane out to the center of the field. Soon he was bouncing along and lifting off.

  “He’s a brave soul,” Booth said.

  “Sooner him than me in that thing,” Meager answered.

  A few minutes later, Norway was at two thousand feet and making a banking turn toward them. He roared over their heads, waggled his wings and disappeared into the clouds.

  “Well, if they weren’t mad before, they will be now,” Lou said.

  Two days later, another small plane, this one bearing Brancker, piloted by one Miss Honeysuckle, dropped in on Cardington. Brancker loved having this leggy blond as his personal pilot and chauffeur. Brancker showed Miss Honeysuckle around Shed No.1 with Colmore and Lou for half an hour. Brancker hadn’t popped in for the sake of a jaunt.

  “What about a spot of tea, Reggie? Anything doing?” he asked.

  “Of course, sir.” They left the shed and walked to Cardington House.

  “I was sorry to hear about their damned poor attitude, Lou,” he said.

  “I did my best. They were nice and very polite, actually,” Lou said.

  “It’s a shame. Thanks for giving it ‘the old college try.’ I’m grateful to you.”

  “They’re businessmen,” Lou said.

  Brancker stared through his monocle at the sky, as if that thought had never crossed his mind. “I suppose you’re right.” He turned to Colmore. “When we get to your office, I want you to track Burney down.”

  “He’s away on the Continent this week, sir,” Lou said.

  “We’ll need to find out if he left a contact number.”

  When they got to the building, Miss Honeysuckle was left in the grand reception hall, Brancker telling her he’d be in conference. The three men went to Colmore’s office, a suite wi
th a secretary’s office leading into his. He had a large room overlooking Cardington Field. Colmore closed the outer door to the corridor and spoke to his secretary. “Doris, I want you to get hold of Sir Dennis Burney. Try the London office first,” he said. “Please arrange for tea to be sent to Miss Honeysuckle and we’ll have some, too. Thanks.”

  They went in, closed the door and sat down. Doris soon came on the line on the speaker. “Sir Dennis is out of the country and cannot be reached, sir.”

  “Hmm. All right, try and locate Mr. Barnes Wallis. Not sure where he’s based these days,” Brancker said.

  “Right sir. The tea lady’s here.”

  Ten minutes later, Doris came on again. “I managed to locate Mr. Wallis, sir. He’ll be on the line in a moment.”

  The speakerphone crackled. “Hello, Wallis here.”

  “I have Sir Sefton here and Commander Remington,” Colmore said.

  “Good afternoon to you all,” Wallis said.

  Brancker leaned forward in his chair. “My dear Barnes, Sefton Brancker here. As you might have guessed, this is a follow up to your meeting with the Commander, which he kindly conducted on our behalf. I’ve been discussing the issues concerning both airships with Wing Commander Colmore—you know, the covers on both, the structural issue with the Howden ship, the weight issues with the Cardington ship. I think it would be beneficial to all parties if we came together as a team and recommended postponement. Then all these things can be resolved, and we can move forward knowing we’ve done absolutely everything in our power to ensure both ships are perfectly safe.”

  Wallis’s tone was cool. “As far as Howden R100 is concerned, I can say the problems have been minor in nature and everything’s been rectified.”

  “But I don’t feel these ships are ready. They’re not fully tested, are they?”

  “It’s not actually up to me to make that judgment, Sir Sefton. I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but I’m based at Weybridge now, working on aeroplane designs.”