Wednesday, May 30, 2012


 The Curtiss C-46 Commando

By

Scott Schwartz

     Billed by Curtiss as the “Sub-Stratosphere Transport”, the airplane that became the C-46 military transport was actually intended to be a 36 passenger airliner with a pressurized cabin.  It was an attempt to compete with that other famous airliner of the 1930’s - the Douglas DC-3. 

     Called the “CW-20T” by Curtiss, the prototype first flew in March of 1940.  The CW-20T had twin vertical stabilizers and was powered by two Wright R-2600 14 cylinder engines producing 1,600 horsepower each, and turned three blade Hamilton-Standard constant speed propellers. 

     After initial flight testing, the twin tail arrangement was replaced by a single vertical stabilizer, and testing revealed that the CW-20 had some promise as an airliner.  Whether it would have posed a threat to the DC-3’s market share is debatable.  On paper, the CW-20 seemed much more capable than the DC-3, with greater fuel capacity, more seats, and a higher service ceiling.  However the CW-20’s larger engines used more fuel, which limited the aircraft’s range.   All of this, however, is academic, as the U.S. was gearing up for war.

     September, 1940 saw the U.S. Army order 200 CW-20B’s, which were designated as C-46’s.  The first 25 C-46’s were basically civilian aircraft that were slightly modified for military use.  The 26th aircraft to come off the production line was the first C-46 “A” version, which in turn was the first true military version of the aircraft.  It was powered by the Pratt &Whitney R-2800 engine, producing 2,000 horsepower.  Ironically, this was the engine originally intended for the airplane. Other changes included: replacement of the Hamilton-Standard propellers with four blade Curtiss Electrics, no cabin pressurization (although the airplane retained its service ceiling of 22,000 feet – no doubt due to the two stage supercharger equipped engines – a vestige of the airplane’s pressurized airliner roots),  a reinforced cargo floor, and extra large cargo doors on the fuselage. Although 17 different variants of the airplane were produced, the C-46A and C-46F made up the bulk of the production run.  A total of 3140 Commandos were made before production ended in 1946. 

     Initially, the C-46 was used to ferry cargo across the South Atlantic. It also saw some use as a glider tug in the European theatre.  However, the C-46 became famous for its use in the China-Burma-India (CBI) Theater, flying supplies over Himalaya Mountains, otherwise known as “the Hump”. 

By March of 1942, the Japanese had control of nearly all of the supply routes through the area.  Consequently all of the supplies needed by Chiang Kai-Shek and Claire Chennault (who in June of that year became General Chennault when his American Volunteer Group was absorbed into the U.S. Army Air Forces), including aviation gasoline had to be flown in to China.  Some of the terrain in the area rises to over 14,000 feet.  The route was initially flown by C-47’s that were equipped with two stage superchargers, and C-87’s, which were cargo versions of the B-24. 

  The C-87 retained the long range and high altitude operating capability of its B-24 cousin.  It also retained the B-24’s basic fuselage, the interior of which was 33 feet long, 4 feet wide and 8 feet high.  While the C-87 could lift heavier loads than the C-46 and featured more “head room”, the narrow bomber-type fuselage made it difficult to carry large cargo items, even with the addition of a cargo door.

Perhaps the most famous cargo aircraft of World War II, the C-47’s cargo area was wider than the C-87’s, but its maximum loaded weight was only 26,000 pounds. 

On the other hand, the cargo area in the C-46 was 48 feet long, 9 feet, 10 inches wide,  and 6 feet, 8 inches high.  Its maximum loaded weight was 45,000 pounds (which could be pushed to 50,000 pounds).

Not surprisingly, the C-46 became the mainstay of the CBI cargo route because of its combination of range, payload, and high altitude capability.

Even with a capable cargo airplane such as the C-46, the Hump route was fraught with danger. There were enemy planes to contend with, (legend has it that a C-46 crew member shot a Zero down by firing his rifle though an open cockpit window.), the departure airfields in India were hot and humid, and the monsoon season was a killer.  Literally. The demand for supplies was so great, that pilots were expected to fly under conditions that would normally ground airplanes based elsewhere.  Accidents were common. Water leaked into cockpits through gaps in the window panes. In addition, navigation aids were scarce, and the airplanes were forced to operate near their limits.  Even in an airplane such as the C-46, which was designed to fly at high altitudes, high altitude flying was a strain on engines, equipment and aircrews.   Superchargers and/or engines failed on occasion, equipment malfunctioned, and keeping a non-pressurized cockpit heated was a challenge.  The four hour flight under such dangerous conditions exhausted pilots and aircrew.

Not to mention the fact that the airplanes were often overloaded.  If all of the foregoing wasn’t bad enough, consider the fact that the C-46’s Curtiss Electric propellers had a nasty tendency to suddenly shift into flat pitch by themselves.  This was due, in part, to humidity corroding the wiring associated with the propellers. 

Despite the hazards and losses, the C-46 had flown hundreds of tons of cargo by the time operations ended in November of 1945.

Given its utility during the war, it should come as no surprise that the C-46 was used quite extensively afterward.  Small cargo operators scooped up surplus Commandos and used them to ply the non-scheduled routes.  Plus, the airplane was perfect for operation in the rough terrain found in parts of South America, such as the Amazon jungle and the Andes Mountains

The C-46’s military career didn’t end with World War Two.  The United States used the C-46 (along with some other World War Two types) to fly missions during the Korean War and the CIA used it during the Bay of Pigs invasion. 

Still, age and wear have taken their toll, and there are only around a dozen Commandos still flying today.    Two of them are operated by the Commemorative Air Force.    
    
Performance (source: Janes American Fighting Aircraft of the 20th Century):
Maximum speed:   265 mph.
Cruising speed (@10,000 ft.):  227 mph.
Engines:  2 Pratt & Whitney R-2800 18 cylinder engines producing 2000 hp.
Service ceiling: 24,500 feet.
Crew:  Pilot, co-pilot, navigator, and radio operator. 

Readers should note that most preserved examples of warplanes are not operated at the altitudes and speeds flown during the type’s military service.  This is to keep fuel, repair, and maintenance costs down. 





 Photos by Scott Schwartz.

    


       

Saturday, May 26, 2012

The Mysterious Coso Mountain Range...

Nestled between the Sierra Nevada and Argus Mountain Ranges, the Coso Mountain Range offers stunning scenery for the off-road explorer.  Granted, most of the Coso Range falls within the boundaries of the China Lake Naval Weapons Station, and is therefore off-limits to the public.

But, the area that is open to the off-road explorer is well worth checking out.  A dry lake bed (complete with a water crossing), old mines, a spectacular view of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, ancient rock-drawings, and very few fellow travelers (at least when I've been there), makes you feel that you've left civilization behind.  Oh, and did I mention the wild flowers that bloom here?

All photos by Scott Schwartz.




                                         



                                          Note the Sierra Nevada Range in the distance.



Ancient astronaut theorists; notice the tall figure with the antennae!  Or , are they feathers? 




Monday, May 21, 2012

F8F Bearcat, F6F Hellcat, and Mitsubishi Zero (not a replica) fly in formation...

From the March AirFest, that was held this past weekend at March Air Reserve Base:  all three of these beautifully restored warbirds belong to the Commemorative Air Force and are based at Camarillo Airport.

The Zero is not a replica, but an American Pratt & Whitney engine has been fitted to this aircraft.


                                           Photo by Scott Schwartz

Saturday, May 12, 2012

May 11, 2012 was a warm, sunny California spring day.  I'd spent the morning organizing the photographs that I have stored on my computer and reading my e-mail messages.

The truth is that I should have spent the day with my stored photos.  But, I yearned to feel the warm desert air on my skin, so I resolved to work through the morning and leave the house at two o'clock.  The photographs would always be there.

Not wanting to travel too far, I referred to my dog-eared copy of Roger and Loris Mitchell's Southern California SUV Trails-Volume I.  I was looking for something near Barstow, which is only about an hour from my house.  Their write-up about the Gold Belt Mine caught my eye, because the site is only twenty five miles from Barstow, and it seemed as though I could explore the site a bit and still be home for dinner with my wife.

So, with my trusty Jeep Cherokee loaded with six gallons of water, a cooler with ice and a couple of soft-drinks, some basic tools, and, of course, my camera bag, I left my home at roughly two-fifteen.

An hour and twenty minutes later (I'd come across some traffic on the 15 freeway) I was exiting the 15 at Barstow Rd.  Also known at Route 246, I headed South. The stores and businesses that I passed soon gave way to open land on both sides of the two lane road.  I shut the air conditioning off and opened all four windows completely.  The warm desert air whipped around the inside of my Jeep as I cruised along at the posted fifty-five mile per hour speed limit.  I was in no hurry.

Shortly after driving through Goat Mountain Pass, a dirt road branched off the highway to the left.  It seemed to match the description and location described in the Mitchell's book, so I slowed down and exited here.

Placing my Jeep in four wheel drive (High-Range), I drove along the rocky, graded dirt road for nearly a mile (there were a few sandy spots), and then turned left at the fork that is described in the book.  The trail curved around, and  large shaft entrance on my left told me that I was approaching the site.  I was also able to see an old concrete foundation sitting alongside the hill that was ahead of me.

Gold was found in this area during the 1920's, according to the Mitchells.  They go on to say that The Great Depression was just around the corner, and the government had set gold prices at a mere twenty dollars per ounce!  Nevertheless, the mine owners were able to obtain financing and begin operations in 1930.  Two years later, operations ceased.

Now, only concrete foundations and the old mine shaft entrances remain.

As I had no interest in actually entering the mine shafts (a very dangerous thing to do), I proceeded a few hundred feet further to the base of the hill.  Here, I put my Cherokee in Low Range, and I climbed the rocky hill, stopping at a large concrete foundation.


(Self-portrait in my Cherokee-this is the hill on which the old building foundations are located.)

Photo by Scott Schwartz









One of the old foundations.)  Photo by Scott Schwartz







 I actually preferred to focus on the panoramic view of the surrounding Ord Mountains, and of Lucerne Valley in the distance.  Looking at the ground at my feet depressed me, as there is broken glass and empty shell casings scattered nearly everywhere.  I've been known to plink at targets on occasion, and I always clean up after myself.  I don't understand why others can't do the same.  Leaving trash like this only reinforces the perception among environmentalists that all visitors to the desert are ruining it.

                                          (View from the hill; Lucerne Valley can be seen in the
                                         distance just beyond the shadowed hills.)  Photo by
                                         Scott Schwartz


At any rate; after taken in the view and shooting some photos, I got back into my Jeep, turned around and made the descent to the bottom of the hill.  I kept my Jeep in Low Range, using engine-braking, and occasional brake-tapping to keep my speed down.

As it was getting close to five o'clock, it was time to head home for dinner.




Sunday, May 6, 2012

North East of Barstow is an interesting old mine- the Alvord Mine...

Thirty miles North East of Barstow lies the abandoned Alvord Mine.  Well, it looks abandoned, anyway.  There are supposed to be several registered mining claims nearby, but I saw no evidence of recent activity, when I was there.

All that remains is a gutted building that was made of stone, a couple of rusting metal tanks, and, of course, what appears to be the entrance to the mine itself.

The mine's origins can be traced back to 1885, when a prospector (whose name is lost to history) found gold in the Alvord Mountains.  This came as a shock to many, because it was thought that the igneous and sedimentary rock in the area contained no valuable minerals.

A mining concern called the Carter Gold Mining Company began operations in the area during that same year.  Six years later, the company ceased operations.  The fact that the nearest water source was ten miles away at the Mojave River, meant that the ore had to be shipped via wagon to the stamp mill near the river, and the total production over the six years netted around $50,000.

The mine was re-opened in 1906.  This time, a stamp mill was placed right near the mine, and five tons of ore were processed every day.  Still, the mine closed down again, in 1910.

From then on, operations stopped and started several more times throughout the early twentieth century, with the last mining activity taking place between 1950 and 1952.  Now, only ruins remain.






All photos by Scott Schwartz.