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Feather Boas, Black Hoodies, and John Deere Hats
Feather Boas, Black Hoodies, and John Deere Hats
Discussions of Diversity in K-12 and Higher Education

Edited by
Joseph R. Jones
Henry County Public Schools, Georgia, USA
A C.I.P. record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.

ISBN: 978-94-6351-213-8 (paperback)

ISBN: 978-94-6351-214-5 (hardback)
ISBN: 978-94-6351-215-2 (e-book)

Published by: Sense Publishers,

P.O. Box 21858,
3001 AW Rotterdam,
The Netherlands
https://www.sensepublishers.com/

All chapters in this book have undergone peer review.

Printed on acid-free paper

All Rights Reserved © 2017 Sense Publishers

No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, microfilming,
recording or otherwise, without written permission from the Publisher, with the
exception of any material supplied specifically for the purpose of being entered and
executed on a computer system, for exclusive use by the purchaser of the work.
 ADVANCE PRAISE FOR
FEATHER BOAS, BLACK HOODIES, AND
JOHN DEERE HATS

“Feather Boas, Black Hoodies, and John Deere Hats contains the voices of a new
generation who help us understand the need to move beyond a “tolerance” of others
to the acceptance and celebration of human differences. Through a series of rich
narratives, Jones provides examples of attitudes, experiences, and institutional
acts that continue to propagate the marginalization of people in our communities.
Intertwined within these stories are thoughtfully selected ideas to help us understand
that embracing difference, and not merely respecting it, can be the catalyst for real
change in all of us.”
– Cathy Sweet, EdD, Nazareth College, New York

“Through authentic experiences, Feather Boas, Black Hoodies, and John Deere
Hats opens the reader’s eyes to the ongoing marginalization of those in society,
who, for various determinations are deemed to be of little substance. It is the
story of the past and the story of the present, but it also contains a story for the
future, complete with the hope of a better world, in a better tomorrow, as the book
also provides strategies to address, and to hopefully eradicate the propagation of
prejudices relevant to one’s origin, race, socioeconomic level, sexual orientation,
ethnicity, gender, culture, religion, or condition and subsequently, all that each of
those prejudices residually breed. Professors, administrators, teachers, corporate
and small business leaders, health care providers, and all others alike in search
of improving cultural competence, either individually or within their organization,
should read this book as it will expand each reader’s knowledge of what it truly
means to be multiculturally aware, to integrate authentic diversity practices, and
to become culturally proficient either as individuals or within the organizational
framework. The book provides readers proactive advice on what can be done to
address the ostracization of others while seeking to shape change and to provide
service to all. With Feather Boas, Black Hoodies, and John Deere Hats, Dr. Jones
has once again made a significant contribution to the campaign for human rights
by highlighting the necessity of awareness in both the public and the private sector.
By giving credibility to the everyday prejudices and cultural biases that are enacted
against countless numbers of faceless victims, but whose stories are critical to
the human experience, the discussions generated within and by this book are life-
changing.”
– Susan Thornton, PhD, Dublin City Schools, Georgia
“As a young high school English teacher, I found the stories and research shared in
this book to be both intriguing and genuinely helpful. I was prompted to do some
research of my own upon completing the book, and I am excited to implement
many of the practices shared. In a world where our identity is oftentimes stifled,
it is becoming more and more important to worry about our students’ identities,
difficulties, and stories. Even more importantly, we need to talk about them. I added
this book to the shelf I most often go to for reference—I know it will be used again
and again.”
– Grace Bellmer, Columbia County School District, Georgia
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prefaceix

1. Venti Low-Fat Soy, Hold the Whip 1

Madison Raley

2. Changing Identity While Staying Me: A Story of the Overburys Who Buried 9
Alex Overby

3. Names and Narratives: Crafting Teachers’ and Students’ Lives into Our
Classroom Discourse 11
Erinn Bentley

4. Who Do You Think You Are? 17

Victor Salazar

5. He’ll Just Spend It on Alcohol: How Our Experiences Shape the Stigmas
of the Homeless 31
Thomas Dailey

6. Can Teacher Preparation Programs Have an Impact on Combating

Islamophobia in Public Schools? 41
Saoussan Maarouf

7. A Voice with an Echo That Nobody Heard… But… 51

Carime Bersh

8. Growing up Gay in Georgia: What Can We Learn from Luke’s Story? 57

Joseph R. Jones

9. Across the Oceans: A Personal Reflection of an Academic Journey 61

Chamaree de Silva

10. Go Back to Where You Came from: The Making of a Mindset 65

Kerry Harding and Julie Jones

11. My Experience in Developing Self-Awareness through Involvement 85

Justin Maki

12. Teachers’ Inked: Tattooed Narratives of High School Teachers 89

Vince Youngbauer and Michael Ridgeman

vii
TABLE OF CONTENTS

13. Brojobs, Bro Culture, and Hegemonic Masculinity: A Call to

Reconceptualize How Educators Address Homophobia 101
Joseph R. Jones

14. You Have to Go to Them 105

Michelle Herring

15. The Minority from the Majority 125

Jonai Sorrell

16. The “Paynes” of the Deficit Model 129

Tracey Dumas Clark

17. Preservice Teachers Learning about Culturally Responsiveness through

International Immersion 133
Michelle Vaughn

18. A Microcosm in the Classroom 145

Heather McKeen

19. Effective Strategies to Increase Diversity and Inclusion in the Nursing

Profession: A Model for Other Disciplines 149
Sherika Derico and Amanda Hawkins

20. Student Success Differences in a Junior-Level Undergraduate Genetics

Course161
Linda Hensel

21. The Relationship between Cultural Diversity and Bullying:

Peer Victimization at Different Levels of Education and Adulthood 167
Carol Raines

22. Diversity and Multiculturalism in Today’s Classroom 175

Elizabeth Dore

23. Homophobia in Schools: Insufficient Teacher Preparation 181

Taelor Rye

About the Authors 187

viii
 PREFACE

As an educator, I witness daily the lack of true diversity in educational settings. As

a college professor, I have worked on different college campuses in different parts
of the country, and they all have one thing in common: a lack of diversity. Attending
college is an act that is still somewhat confined to individuals with some level of
social and/or economic capital, of whom mostly are White middle-class citizens.
In our current social and political climate, there seems to be a lack of true tolerance
and acceptance of difference. Hate language and actions are overwhelmingly
visible within our society. Racism, homophobia, and sexism, among others, are still
blatantly present across our nation, and these types of acts are also happening in our
K-12 schools and on college campuses. Therefore, we must begin examining how
we are attempting to create a more diverse and tolerant community.
Numerous books discuss the scholarship of diversity and the ways in which a
particular scholar believes diversity should exist within educational settings. There
are books that examine the impact of all of the “isms” and how those influence
schools and colleges. As a scholar whose work attempts to create safe environments
for all students to grow and learn, I have written those articles and books that provide
my view of how to create diverse and tolerant places in which to learn. However, in
composing this text, I wanted to go beyond the scholastic arguments and viewpoints,
and I wanted to give a voice to the people who are daily entrenched in the process of
schooling. Often, educational academics forget the trials of the everyday practitioner.
We forget the trials of the parents and students who are different from the majority
population.
Further, as a White academic with social and economic capital, it is impossible
for me to completely equip my students with the necessary tools to construct a fully
inclusive school setting. By this, I mean that I can never fully comprehend how my
Muslim American colleagues feel on a daily basis. I can never fully comprehend
how our current process for creating diverse and inclusive settings impacts an
African American family.
In order to fully comprehend and prepare our students to create inclusive
classrooms and other academic spaces, we must listen to the voices of the individuals
in the trenches. The best way to prepare the white middle class student in my
classroom is to allow him or her the opportunity to view the world through the eyes
of the individual who is different. Thus, the purpose of this book is to bring those
voices into the academic discourse that we use in our classrooms. In this capacity, it
is my hope that this book becomes a catalyst that engenders a different conversation
about diversity and difference. In doing so, I posit that our students will be better
prepared to create inclusive environments.

ix
 MADISON RALEY

1. VENTI LOW-FAT SOY, HOLD THE WHIP

I was judged for being a sorority girl before I even joined one. The disapproving
looks I received from friends who had chosen against Greek life, the ones who
warned me, “Trust me. You don’t want to be a sorority girl.” I remember the tales
that my older friends recounted of girls passed out at parties or making out in the
bathroom, who just had to be sorority girls. I get it. I know how it must appear. The
girl who comes into her 9:00 am class in neon Nike shorts and an oversized t-shirt,
her Greek letters proudly displayed on the pocket. She sits down with her Venti Low-
Fat Soy Latte from Starbucks and pulls out her MacBook, adorned with her sorority
letters and monogram. Her hair is effortlessly curled to give the impression that she
didn’t try too hard. Her makeup looks like a professional caked it on as she spills the
details from the night before to her “sister” in the next seat. It tells people that she
cares more about her appearance than she does about pre-algebra or English 101.
Maybe they are right. Maybe sorority girls do care about their appearances more
than most. I care about the way I look, and I probably care even more of what people
think of me. I’m not sure that I did so much until I got to college, though. If I learned
nothing else from being in a sorority, it’s that you get the title. Regardless of your
chapter’s 4.0 GPA or the academic and philanthropic awards that your chapter has
brought home over the years, you still get the title, the one that Legally Blonde and
House Bunny so kindly stamped on the forehead of every sorority girl in America.
Sometimes, in the right crowd, the title is certainly favorable. But I learned quickly
in my college classes that it usually was not.
My high school graduating class comprised 147 students. It was one of the larger
high schools in the county, yet I still knew almost everyone’s name and where most
of them lived. It was a close-knit family that I had become a part of, and I became
unrealistically comfortable in my little niche. My hometown is also home to a large
Air Force base, the largest in the state. My friends in school would come and go
as their father or mother had received notice of another change. The diversity was
prevalent; anyone could see it. But, rather than using it as a reason to shy away from
newcomers, we welcomed them with open arms. I had become accustomed to this
lifestyle. I refused to use someone’s weaknesses or insecurities to isolate them. That
was not something I had ever felt, and was certainly not something I wanted others
to feel either.
Applying for colleges was a bit of a challenge. As I was growing up, the expectation
to succeed was the white elephant in every room that I entered. The option of failure
was not one that I was familiar with, and the possibility of disappointing my family

J. R. Jones (Ed.), Feather Boas, Black Hoodies, and John Deere Hats, 1–7.
© 2017 Sense Publishers. All rights reserved.
M. Raley

was off the table. I worked hard throughout high school to achieve good grades
and to receive frequent praise but, most importantly, to be able to choose where I
attended college. I narrowed it down to three schools, the largest of which was the
University of Georgia. I visited, I toured, and I fell in love with the most beautiful
historic campus, a buzzing downtown, beautiful gardens, and 100-year-old trees.
I was sold. I am not positive when it actually occurred to me, but at some point, it
hit me that I would be attending a university that was 238 times larger than my high
school graduating class. When it hit me, it hit me hard. This was not my comfort
zone. This was not what I was accustomed to by any means. But I had made my
decision, and I certainly was not going to be backing out now. I prayed and hoped
that they would treat me with the same kindness that I had treated all of the “new
kids” at my schools over the years. I desired their approval, the approval of people
whom I had not even met.
There were a handful of students from my high school who made the decision to
attend UGA as well. Most of my graduating class opted to stay at home for a year
or two, attending the local college in town. When it came down to it, there were
maybe five from my high school and a total of 10 whom I knew in the entire school.
In the blink of an eye, I went from knowing every single student in my graduating
class to knowing fewer than 10 people in a school of 35,000. At this realization, I
made the decision to join a sorority. It was not because I was bursting at the seams
with excitement to monogram all of my clothes or have wine nights watching The
Bachelorette but because I needed that niche. If that meant being one of those girls—
if that meant embracing the idea of sleepovers all over again or pretending I liked
salad, then so be it. I was determined to do whatever it took to find a place where I
could feel comfortable. The approval that I so strongly desired, I was going to get. I
was essentially putting myself on a pedestal for 17 sororities to judge, critique, and
decide if I was worthy of those three little letters that I craved then more than ever.
Rush was horrific. The 5:00 am mornings, girls with more makeup on than I’d
seen on pageant queens, Lilly Pulitzer dresses, uncomfortable wedge shoes—it was
a nightmare. Any girl who says that rushing a sorority was a pleasant experience is
lying through her pearly white teeth. When rush began, there were over a thousand
girls roaming Milledge Avenue in the sweltering heat, dabbing sweat from their lips
and reapplying lipstick and powder after every round. I have never been so exhausted
before in my life. But I pushed through. I met plenty of the sweetest, prettiest girls
who seemed to desire the warm, comforting conversations that we had. Perhaps they
were simply acting. I’ll never know, but for those few miserable days of rush, the
one tiny glimmer of hope that kept me alive was the chance that I’d actually find
somewhere I fit in.
I came to discover too quickly that 80% of the girls going through rush were
from Atlanta. So what? Big deal. Atlanta is the largest city in the state. There’s no
way that they could all know each other. Wrong. Every girl from Atlanta seemed to
know every other girl from Atlanta. It blew my mind. They had friends in sororities,
big sisters in sororities, mothers who been in sororities. I was out of my element.

2
 Venti Low-Fat Soy, Hold the Whip

These girls were getting the bid they wanted one way or another, and I was a part of
the measly 20% of the recruitment population who were not from Atlanta. In fact,
I knew no one. Of the 1,000+ girls who rushed that week, I knew none of them.
I did not know my roommate. I did not know anyone in my classes. Though I was
completely out of my element, I somehow managed to make it through “hell week.”
When bid day arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I had received a
bid from a sorority that I really had loved. It seemed to me to be the most genuine;
the sisters were academically strong and supportive of their philanthropy and each
another and all around seemed to instill in their members the same values that I had
embraced growing up. Despite the ridiculous rumors, the judgmental comments, and
the silly stories, I did what so many warned against, and I joined a sorority.
Sadly, this incredible feat that I had so deeply needed did not provide me the
instant confidence that I had hoped for. I soon learned that, even within my sorority,
many of the girls had attended high school together, knew each other from church,
or had gone to day care together. I was starting fresh. They didn’t know me, and I
had to make an impression. You join a sorority to feel accepted, but the reality is
that you have to accept yourself first for others to accept you. I had no clue who
I wanted to become, who I wanted to be. I knew my values and my morals, but I
continued to play the stories my friends had told me of the sorority girls at UGA.
That kind of girl was not who I wanted to become. Did I want to pretend as though
it was? All that I had hoped for had happened. I had been accepted into the sorority
that I’d wanted, surrounded by hundreds of girls whom I now called family, but none
of them really knew who I was. I wasn’t even sure who I was. So I just tried to be
myself. The sorority stereotype is just that: a stereotype. I learned that the hard way.
The stories stuck in my head, but day after day, my predisposition was disproven.
I had become a part of a family that loved me for being me and truly seemed to
care about who I was rather than trying to make me fit their mold. I made friends,
went to the events, and transformed before everyone’s eyes into a giggly, Starbucks-
drinking, monogrammed-wearing sorority girl.
I’ll admit it. I gave in to the unspoken dress code. I wore the oversized sorority
t-shirts and the Nike shorts. I even caved and wore high white Nike socks with my
tennis shoes. I usually brushed my hair and occasionally even curled it. Big mistake.
Even without the rest, simply wearing those letters around the University of Georgia
campus drew the eyes of nearly everyone whom I passed. It was because of what I
was wearing—attire that screamed, “I like to party!” It told people that I cared too
much about my appearance and that, because I wore three little letters on my T-shirt,
I was dumb.
Since stepping foot onto UGA’s campus, I was a part of the majority. I was White,
and I was female. The girl-to-guy ratio at UGA was somewhere around 60:40. UGA
is diverse. There are students of all races, ethnicities, religions, and socioeconomic
backgrounds, yet I was still the majority. But for some reason, it didn’t feel like
it. Back home, I was the majority, in most senses. I was White, middle-class, and
Southern-Baptist, which are three of the most prominent labels in most rural Southern

3
M. Raley

towns below the “Bible Belt.” When I was the majority then, I felt the rewards of
it. I was not necessarily given special treatment, but I was treated with respect and
kindness everywhere I went. Because I was the majority, people knew me—from
church, from school, from my family. We seemed to be connected to everyone in
some small-world way. At UGA, if I was still a part of the majority, why did it feel
as though I was not? It was like, this time, I was a part of such a large majority—of
so many—that I was hidden in the shadows of those other White female students
who knew nearly every person whom they passed by. I blended in. Sure, people
would see my sorority letters and perk up every once in a while, but aside from that,
everyone had their own agenda, and I was not a part of it.
I was the only girl in my entire sorority who majored in English—mind you, a
sorority of over 200 girls, and somehow I managed to be the only English major.
This was yet another decision that seemed to seclude me further and further from
the label that I had so desperately desired. My sorority sisters majored in a variety
of subjects, from pre-med to broadcast journalism to studio art, but there was not
another English major among them. In fact, the English Department, which was
nestled in its very own building along with the Classics Department, was deprived
of sorority and fraternity members alike in comparison to other college buildings.
Rather, the English Department was home to a crowd of individuals who dressed as
though they were headed to Woodstock when class let out. The first class that I took
in the English building was English 101. I was among other freshman, still learning
our way around the massive campus and discovering what group we were a part of.
There were several sorority and fraternity members in my classes. At the beginning
of the year, sorority girls fought to showcase the sorority that had “chosen” them, the
one they had been fortunate enough to snag a bid from, wearing their letters on their
t-shirts, shorts, laptops, iPhone cases, wallets, key chains, and even notebooks and
pencils. The lower-level English classes were incidentally held on the lower floor
of the English building. On the bottom floor, newly admitted fraternity brothers and
sorority sisters roamed the hallways. However, the top two floors were reserved for
the upper-level courses. Beyond the first floor, girls in sorority shirts with their Diet
Cokes and Lilly Pulitzer iPhone cases simply did not exist.
When I began my junior year, I was taking two upper-level English courses. I was
beyond ecstatic. English was my passion, is still my passion. Reading and writing
are two things that I enjoy more than all else, and when I sat down in the front row
of my very first upper-level English course and felt the judgmental pounding stares
of my classmates and my teacher, my heart broke a little. I’d be lying if I said that I
wasn’t disappointed. Slowly, I began to notice the negative side effects of being in
a sorority. As if I had contracted a disease that my English-major colleagues were
scared to catch, I slowly became the girl whom no one wanted to partner with, talk to,
or even sit by. I was being quarantined. At a school where over 1,000 girls annually
become new members of sororities, where the girl-to-guy ratio is unreasonably
unequal, where sororities fight for the highest GPA, I was judged. When they did
talk to me, they spoke as if I had never cracked open a book in my life. They never

4
 Venti Low-Fat Soy, Hold the Whip

asked me for opinions on their papers or writings. When I was called on in class, it
was to answer dumbed-down questions, as if they pitied my tiny brain for not being
able to communicate with theirs. For a long time, I wallowed in their pity. I stopped
wearing my Comfort Colors t-shirts and switched them out for “regular” attire. I
rarely spoke in class and, for the first time, did not enjoy reading and writing at all.
My English classes had become the downfall of my junior year, and I was beginning
to question my major.
Though I was discouraged, I had signed up earlier in the year to attend a study
abroad program at the University of Oxford. The University of Georgia set up a
program that allowed a few English students to travel across the pond to one of the
greatest universities in the world and take courses from actual, real-deal Oxford
professors. Naturally, I was nervous. I was set to take a course on Romanticism and
another on Shakespeare, two subjects that I was not very knowledgeable about. From
the previous year, I had received the message loud and clear from my colleagues
that I was out of place. And to be brutally honest, I had begun to think that I really
was. For the longest time, I was too nervous to speak up in class for fear of saying
the wrong thing and giving everyone the proof that they needed to justify their
predetermined notions of who I was and what I was capable of. Before the day came
to leave for my six-week adventure at Oxford, I listened to Shakespeare biographies
on audiotapes, I read as many of his works as I could, and I became as much of an
expert on Romanticism as possible in the few weeks that I had. I had no clue what I
was getting myself into. I was going on the trip without any friends, and I was barely
knowledgeable in the content I would be studying. I was worried.
Before I knew it, I was there, settling into my new home at Trinity College smack
in the middle of Oxford, England. My professors were renowned and brilliant. I
have, to this day, never spoken to individuals who articulated their thoughts so
eloquently. They knew everything, it seemed. Not a topic arose in discussion that
they had not studied or researched, and more than anything, they strongly desired to
share it all with us. Out in the Oxford community, my classmates and I received a lot
of judgmental looks. We were harshly stereotyped for being those Americans. The
locals, and even other European and Asian tourists, were all under the notion that,
because we were Americans, we were idiots. Truly, a great majority of the foreigners
whom we met were surprised to find that we were not complete imbeciles. All over
again, I found myself being judged by people who did not know me. They had no
clue what I was capable of, but because I was an American and wore American
clothing, it seemed a common assumption by the vast majority that I was dumb.
This time, I refused to let a stereotype define my skills and success. I wanted to
prove to my Oxford professors that Americans, myself included, were not dumb and
were instead capable of having meaningful discussions and producing thoughtful,
significant pieces of writing. So I spent a great portion of my time at Oxford
in the Bodleian Library, which is one of the most magnificent libraries in all of
Europe. I spent hours every single day researching new topics, reading the works
of Shakespeare, Byron, Keats, and Wordsworth, and then reading more literary

5
 who do you think you are?

weighed, for therein rests the essence of their true selves. In each backpack, there are
unique life experiences, along with some common influences, that shape the way the
students see themselves while, at the same time, showing others only those elements
of themselves that they want to be seen and by which they want to be judged. Hence,
the masks. They want to camouflage their backpacks, to keep the contents from
being discovered. The contents of each backpack are not equal, nor should they be
compared at all. They represent the factors that are common to all while, at the same
time, showing how we are unique. Yet, what we all have in common, I believe, is
that we all want to be seen as good, to be valued as important, and to be respected.
So let me show you what’s in my backpack.
The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it.
Memories need to be shared. (Lois Lowry, “The Giver”)
After 50 years, the pain is still there. I can’t think of a single incident that is
responsible for all of the pain, or the many scars, that I feel, even after days or years
of searching. No, I don’t think that the pain exists solely because my mother bathed
me in bleached water so that I might look less brown and more “normal.” The bleach
didn’t hurt so much, but the fact that she believed that I needed to be cleansed from
whom I was did.
It wasn’t because of that time that I held a lit firecracker in my hand, even after
it exploded, to see if it might hurt; it did. My older brother watched as I lit it and
didn’t say a word to me. Maybe he didn’t think it would hurt me. Or maybe he did.
I suppose that the error in judgment can be overlooked because I was only eight at
the time.
Of the many beatings that I took, perhaps the most painful one was when I got
caught trying to set the church on fire using a lit candle from the prayer offering
box—but only after I had emptied it of the offerings that it contained (no paper
money, only some quarters and dimes). No, there were too many violent disciplinary
measures to count, so that one can’t be the only one. And after the beating, being sent
to bed without any supper wasn’t really a punishment at all. Going to bed hungry
was more common than not.
When my mother moved across town and shacked up with a man, leaving us kids
to fend for ourselves, she never called or stopped by to see us. She literally left us
to be happy but on her own, without us. That might have hurt a little, but two years
later, she’d be back in the same house with us.
Nor was it the time that my mother’s friend held my open palms of my hands over
the lit gas burner for picking an apple from the neighbor’s tree that was hanging over
our fence. I know what I might do to anyone, friend or not, who punished any of
my children with that method. What did my mother do? She hit me with a shoe for
stealing. That really hurt, but it didn’t stop me from stealing or from being hungry.
It seems that I was hungry for most of my days—and nights. Finding something
to eat was a key to my survival, even if it meant picking through the contents of the
school’s garbage cans after school. Always the pragmatist, I could reason that a half-

19
v. salazar

eaten apple or barely touched bologna sandwich was more than no apple or sandwich
at all! I also discovered some strange concoctions of snacks, left on the floor of one
of the local theaters, the one that had the triple feature for a dime on Saturdays. After
each film, there was a new batch of trash on the floor. So, on my hands and knees, I
would crawl through the rows of seats feeling for someone’s spilled popcorn or, if I
got really lucky, the remains of a large lollipop. A quick rinse of the sucker and it was
just as good as if it was freshly wrapped. One too many times, though, I had to suffer
through chewing a blend of cigarette ashes and soggy buttered popcorn. After all,
there really wasn’t any good reason for complaining. I wasn’t buying snacks from a
glass counter, so I couldn’t be too picky.
There were also times, somewhat earlier in my life and before they were divorced,
when I overheard my parents speaking a familiar, though not understandable,
language to each other. I could tell that they were really connected to each other
during these conversations because their exchanges were very intense, and—like the
nearby Pacific ocean—their volume would ebb and flow in a range from whispers to
full-throated roars. I would eventually learn that they were speaking Spanish. They
could talk to their brothers and sisters, my uncles and aunts, but they didn’t want us
to know what they were talking about. In my heart, when they were speaking to each
other in that foreign language, I just felt that they did not want me or my siblings
to be part of their lives. And that hurt, too, but it was a different kind of pain. It ran
deeper than the punishing fire on my fingers or the countless times that I felt the
sting of my father’s belt.
It would be many years later before I understood their shared motive for not
teaching us their language. There was probably some merit in my belief that they
wanted to keep their secrets to themselves. In fact, I found that each of the eight
Salazar children, myself included, had some secrets. I believed that, by keeping them
private, we were growing up the way that we were supposed to. Somehow, I got the
impression that Hispanics (my mother often interchanged the word Hispanic with
Latino, so I guessed that I was both, being that I saw no difference between the
terms) were supposed to keep to themselves, and they were to never share what was
going on in their home.
Another reason, explained to me much later by my mother—one that might have
been true—was that they wanted to make sure that I, along with my three brothers
and four sisters, would “get good grades in school.” In my parents’ minds, I suppose,
thinking in a language other than English would be an obstacle to my lifelong
success, whatever that means.
By the time I graduated from high school, I had attended 11 different schools. My
transient life wasn’t due to any noble cause, such as a parent serving in the military
or conducting business in a multinational corporation. As I remember, we moved
at about the same time every year. It wasn’t until my teenage years that I found
out what the word eviction meant. On the other hand, we were very lucky every
Christmas and Thanks giving because my mother won every raffle that she ever

20
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
airship till it could combat moderate winds. It did the same with the
aëroplane.
The Wright, Farman, and Blériot machines may be described as
the parent types from which have sprung the large variety which at
the present time are at the disposal of the aviator. Amongst the
various types which have sprung from the parent forms we search in
vain for any underlying new principles, if we except the Dunne
machine. There is, however, in the various types plenty of variety of
constructional detail. Perhaps the two most important features of
modern aëroplane work are (1), the gradual substitution of steel in
place of wood, and the general strengthening of aëroplane
construction; (2), the armouring of vital parts of aëroplanes for the
exigencies of warfare. Of this latter innovation mention will be made
later. Regarding the various types of machines now available, it must
suffice in this chapter to especially mention a few which have
features of special interest for the purpose of warlike operations.
The success of the operations of the British aëroplanists in the
war is evidence of the efficiency of the apparatus being used. The
British military aëronautical authorities have evolved a very useful
form of aëroplane. In present circumstances, however, detailed
description of this must be omitted.

Weight-Lifting Machines.
i. The Cody Biplane.—The Cody type was quite an experimental
machine. It should not, however, be without notice, as it was an early
effort towards the production of weight-lifting machines. These, in the
future, will have to be evolved if the aëroplane is to take a large part
in offensive operations. Scouting and offensive work call for different
types of machines. The Cody biplane had the largest supporting
surface that has been made, excepting that of Sir Hiram Maxim’s
flying machine. The two main surfaces were 52 feet in length, 7 feet
6 inches wide. They had a supporting surface of 775 square feet. But
this was small compared with the Maxim giant, which spread 4,000
square feet of surface. In the Cody machine the front elevators,
which bore some of the load, alone represented 150 square feet.
The two vertical rudders were at equal distances fore and aft of the
main supporting surfaces. A distinctive feature was the elevator. This
was in two separate parts, each of which could be moved
independently of the other. Cody adopted the method of the brothers
Wright for attaining lateral stability and steering—warping the main
surfaces.
There were vertical and horizontal rudders operated by a single
steering wheel. Cody used generally an 80 h.p. engine, but in some
of his experiments he went up to 130 h.p. A peculiarity of the screws
was their greater width at the base than at the tips. The weight of the
machine was about one ton. Though it was such a large machine
some attempts were made to give it portability. The two ends of the
main decks, each 16 feet long, were removable. The girder
supporting the elevator could also be detached, as the rear rudder
frame was made to fold back against the body. With this machine
Cody flew at excellent speeds, averaging fifty miles an hour. On one
occasion he was credited with seventy miles an hour.
It was the Cody machine which won the first prizes which were
open to the world at the military trials in 1912. Of all the earlier
practical fliers in this country no one perhaps did so much to
popularise flight as Cody. His pluck and perseverance, despite the
constant disasters that were his lot, gained British appreciation, and
all recognised that if he was not a man of letters he was one of
intuition. His well-known man-lifting kite, unequalled indeed for the
purpose for which it was designed, was an example of the
illuminating flashes that were wont to cross his brain. It was not the
product of calculation, but the happy thought.
ii. Maurice Farman Biplane.—A type of weight-carrying machine
that has survived is that designed by Mr. Henry Farman’s brother,
Mr. Maurice Farman. This machine has extensions to its main
surfaces, which enable it to carry a considerable weight. It has been
found capable of remaining in the air a very long time, which is an
important consideration for war use, especially when the aëroplane
is on the offensive. It is capable of flying at a very low speed. A
disadvantage is that it requires very skilful piloting, especially when
used in high winds.

The Breguet Biplane.

Very conspicuous in the Paris Salon exhibitions has been the
Breguet biplane. This is one of very advanced type; it is a military
machine par excellence. Simplicity and portability throughout are its
distinguishing features, and these are the essence of a machine
designed for war. One might almost call it a combination of
monoplane and biplane construction. There is the familiar tapering of
the framework, with controlling planes at the end, such as in the
Blériot, but two superposed planes, instead of the bird-like projecting
wings of the Blériot, are above and below the body of the machine.
Steel enters largely into the design. There is a maximum of
supporting struts between the main surfaces. These are constructed
with thin metal ribs, and are therefore flexible, an exceedingly
important feature, rendering the machine exceptionally stable in high
and gusty winds. For portability the main surfaces can be taken out
of position in a few minutes. By the excellent method of hinging the
planes to the body of the machine the former may be turned back
and folded up beside the body of the machine. The aëroplane can
therefore be described as a folding-up one. It can therefore travel on
the road like a motor-car, instead of having to be packed up and
conveyed in a wagon. This method of road conveyance would be
impracticable with a machine with its wings outspread.

The Short Double-Engined Aëroplane.

How many times have engines failed during flight on both
monoplanes and biplanes! How many tragedies have thus been
enacted! Time and experience indeed have mitigated this type of
aërial disaster. The improvement in engines has been one cause of
salvation in this respect, the practice of vol-planing the other. But
even now from the seat of war comes the news of engines that fail
and machines that drop into the realm of the enemy. The old proverb
of having two strings to one’s bow should apply to aëronautics.
The desideratum, indeed, is the duplication of such a vital part
as the motor. Considerations of weight have been the hindrance to
engine duplication. Mr. Short has given very special attention to this
matter, and has designed what appears to be an excellent machine,
undoubtedly of military value. The biplane is supplied with two
Gnome motors. One drives the screws in the front of the machine,
and placed a considerable distance apart. The other drives a single
screw behind the planes. In the ordinary way both engines run at
moderate speed, but if one fails the acceleration of the speed of the
other will keep the machine flying.

The Vendôme Monoplane.

A monoplane which has repute in France for strength, general
aptitude, and convenience is the Vendôme type. It has been
especially commended by experts on account of the quickness with
which it can be put together and dismantled. The only criticism to
which it has been exposed is, perhaps, that it is a little too strong for
requisite lightness, and that a modification of the metallic portions
might reduce weight without sacrifice of efficiency. This machine
throughout is made of hickory wood.

Breguet-Bristol Biplane.
This is one of the newest machines France has at her disposal.
It is a happy combination of British and French make, due to the
collaboration of two firms, the Bristol Company and La Société
Breguet.
 The result of the combination is said to be eminently satisfactory.
A distinguishing feature of this machine is rapid dismantlement.
There are two pairs of wings. These are identical, interchangeable,
and connected in each case by a flexible partition, which permits of
the wings being laterally straightened up. The area of this interesting
machine is 39 square metres; length, 8.90 metres; span, 11.50
metres.

The Destroyer Nieuport Monoplane.

During this year, even before the outbreak of war, the aëroplane
had been well armoured and armed. A striking example of an
armoured air-scouting machine is the Nieuport monoplane. This type
has obtained brilliant result. Equipped with pilot, bombs, and
armament it has flown at the rate of 145 kilometres an hour, risen at
the rate of 500 metres in 3 minutes 45 seconds, made its departure
and landed within an enclosure of 150 square metres.
This monoplane has 24 square metres of surface, and weighs
more than 1,000 kgs. The armoury is carried out by a cuirass of steel
or nickel plates, which cover the vital front parts and the place where
the pilot sits.

Armoured Clement-Bayard Monoplane.

This new type is exceedingly well armoured, the protective caps
covering the motor and the middle of the machine.
The following are the dimensions, etc.:—
 Length 5.60 metres
Span 9.50 metres
Area 18 sq. metres
Motor 100 h.p. Gnome
Weight 415 kgs.
Speed 150 km. per hour

On June 6th last the French military aviators with their armoured
and armed aëroplanes were reviewed at Villacoublay by General
Joffre and General Bernard, the director of military aëronautics.
Amongst the types of aëroplanes present was the Dorand biplane,
having two Gnome motors driving separate screws, armoured in its
vital parts, and armed with a Hotchkiss mitrailleuse. This was
mounted on a pivot, and could be fired in almost every direction.
There were, too, the Morane-Saulnier, Blériot-Gouin, Nieuport, and
Breguet-Bristol types.
M. Raymond, in his speech before the Senate in February last,
said that Germany was in possession of armoured aëroplanes, but
that France had none. The June review at Villacoublay showed what
vast strides in military aëroplane construction the French had made
in a few months.
The French military aëroplanes consist of Farman types, and
many other leading French forms. In 1913 there were about 500
French military aëroplanes and a few naval hydroplanes.
France manufactures a great number of aëroplanes, of late
years about 1,000 per year. These include Government machines,
those of private owners and export machines. There are at least
twenty-nine French flying grounds, many of them flying schools and
trial grounds of the leading French airship and aëroplane makers.
In 1913 Italy appears to have had about a hundred military
aëroplanes, including those on order, Blériots, Bristol (monoplanes),
Farmans, Nieuports, and others. She had six or eight naval
aëroplanes. She is well provided with military flying schools and
other flying grounds, nearly all fitted with hangars.
 There are military airship hangars at Rome, Milan, Verona,
Venice, and Bracciano.
Belgium has a military school of aviation near Antwerp, and in
1913 she had as many as twenty-four military aëroplanes—H.
Farman, 80 h.p. Gnome. There are in Belgium about half a dozen
flying grounds, and as many aërial societies or clubs.
As already stated, Germany, in the first instance, looked to
Austria-Hungary for her aëroplanes, and the Etrich was an Austrian
machine. In late years, however, Austria’s aëroplanes were mainly
Lohners; the Government favoured this make and discouraged
others, consequently enterprise and invention languished. After the
accident to the Aspern the Lohner was condemned as of too feeble a
resistance, and meanwhile discouragement had effaced all the other
systems.
Aëroplanes are used both in the Russian army and navy. Those
of the navy are hydro-aëroplanes, or capable of being so arranged.
In number, the Russian navy has about a dozen. Of military
aëroplanes Russia has probably from 250 to about 300, many of
them of modern type, and built in Russia, the principal types being
Rumpler, Albatross, Aviatik, Nieuport, Farman, Bristol and
Deperdussin.
Bulgaria has a number of aëroplanes, mainly Blériots and
Bristols.

Sykorsky’s Giant Aëroplane.

A very remarkable type of aëroplane is the giant biplane
invented by the Russian aviator Sykorsky. It doubtless marks the
beginning of a new era in the construction of machines on the
heavier-than-air principle. Most aviators have shirked the use of a
machine that could carry a large number of persons. It would seem
that Russia is destined to take the lead in this class of machine,
which may before long put the lighter-than-air Zeppelins entirely out
of date. The machine of Sykorsky is not, indeed, a mere project, but
a reality, for at Petrograd on February 25th, it flew for eighteen
minutes with sixteen passengers on board. They represented a
weight of 1,300 kilogrammes. The height attained in this flight was
300 metres. On February 27th the machine flew from Petrograd to
Tsarskoe Selo and back again, taking nine persons, in two hours six
minutes, at a height of 1,000 metres. The performance constituted a
triple record of distance, height, and duration of flight with nine
persons on board.
The following are the dimensions, etc.:—

Length 20 metres
Span 37 metres
Surface 182 sq. metres
Distance between planes 2.80 metres
Motive power 4 Argus motors
(100 h.p. each)
Weight of motors 220 kgs.
Weight of machine without 3,500 kgs.
passengers
Weight with 16 passengers 4,800 kgs.

The motors are placed in groups of two on each side of the body
of the machine. Each pair works a screw and each individual motor
can be put into action and stopped separately. The body of the
machine contains a chamber for the pilots three square metres in
size, a passenger salon of five square metres, and two other
chambers of three and two square metres respectively. The whole
are lit by four windows on each side. The rooms can be artificially
lighted by electricity and warmed by motor gas. There are, indeed,
future possibilities for such a machine in war!
I have mentioned that the type of aëroplane devised by
Lieutenant Dunne is characterised by a distinctive principle of its
own. The claim is made that it is automatically stable. It has,
however, rather a claim to “inherent stability” than “automatic
stability,” if we accept the terms as Professor Bryan has defined
them.
The following details appeared in the “Aëronautical Journal”:—

The salient features of the machine are the backward

slope of the planes, which, in plan view, form an angle with
the apex in the direction of flight, and the absence of a tail or
supplementary planes of any description. The following are its
chief dimensions:—Span, 46 feet; length (fore and aft), from
apex to rear wing tip, 20 feet 4½ inches; length of body, 19
feet; surface, 500 square feet; weight (including pilot and six
gallons of petrol), 1,700 lb.; engine, four-cylinder 50–60 h.p.
Green, 1,100 r.p.m., driving twin propellers placed one on
either side of the body in the rear.
The weight in flight being 1,700 lb., the aëroplane carries
a load of about 3 lb. per square foot. The speed in flight
averages about 40 m.p.h.
The chord of the surfaces is even throughout—6 feet; the
vertical distance between the surfaces is also constant at 6
feet; at either extremity a vertical curtain is placed between
the surfaces to prevent leakage of air sideways. The surfaces
slope back from the apex at an angle of 58° on either side,
the rear wing tips, therefore, actually being in the rear of the
aft end of the body, and the entire outer extremities of the
wings lying back well behind the centre of gravity.
The curve or camber of the planes is not uniform, and,
briefly, it may be said that each wing may be viewed as a
portion of the surface of a cone with the apex to the rear. A
consequence of this is that the angle of incidence of each
wing gradually decreases from the root to the tip; so much so,
that while the angle at the root is positive, that at the tip is
distinctly negative, the difference in the respective angles
being 45°. Apart from this, an interesting feature is the
extreme downward bend of the trailing edges over a short
distance where the two surfaces meet in the centre; this
 arrangement has been adopted chiefly to enable the
aëroplane to right itself naturally in the event of its having
assumed a vertical position in the air. A further interesting
consideration is that this machine is the only one that could
safely be forced backwards. It may be added, briefly, that the
loss in efficiency arising from the negative angle of the wing-
tips is compensated by the backward slope and angle of the
surfaces, which naturally causes the flow of air to be depleted
outwardly beneath the planes, and even induces a certain
amount of compression beneath the outer ends. The body is
entirely covered in; the pilot’s seat is in the prow; the motor
further to the rear. The centre of gravity is well forward, and
about six inches above the lower plane. The propellers are
carried on a transverse girder, and are chain-driven in the
same direction—contra-clockwise viewed from the rear. The
centre of the boss is situated 1 foot 2 inches above the lower
plane, and 4 feet from the central axis of the machine. The
propellers, designed by Capt. Carden, are of solid wood, 7
feet in diameter, 7 feet 6 inches pitch, each weighing 21 lb.
The chassis comprises two main wheels, with a small wheel-
and-skid fore and aft. The system of controls is extremely
simple. The trailing edge of each extremity of the upper plane
forms a hinged flap, measuring 7 feet 2 inches by 1 foot 9
inches. These are independently controlled by two levers, one
on either hand of the pilot a couple of mirrors allow the pilot to
ascertain the working of the steering-flaps when in flight. The
throttle control is fixed to the right-hand lever.

On several occasions, while flying on this machine, the pilot

used both hands for writing and making notes, leaving the machine
uncontrolled, and came down with his hands raised above his head.
Germany has many forms of aëroplanes, and these will be
treated of in the next chapter.
AVIONS ALLEMANDS
TIREZ
sur ces Appareils
 MONOPLAN TAUBE
TAUBE
MONOPLAN GOTHA
GOTHA

MONOPLAN RUMPLER
RUMPLER
BIPLAN ALBATROS
ALBATROS

ZEPPELIN
A DIAGRAM ISSUED BY THE FRENCH WAR OFFICE FOR THE
GUIDANCE OF THE MEN IN THE TRENCHES.
It gives a silhouette of some Aëroplanes and an Airship in the German
service, and bears the injunction—“German Aëroplanes—fire on these
machines.”
 CHAPTER VIII
GERMANY’S AËROPLANE EQUIPMENT

The history of Germany’s developments in aërial navigation on the

heavier-than-air principle during the last few years is the history of
preparation for war. France was, indeed, the first nation to realise
that though there was a war use for the aircraft on the lighter-than-air
principle there would, in time, be no comparison between the
advantages of aëroplanes over airships.
Directly aërodrome performances were replaced by cross-
country flights that gave opportunities for the attainment of those
records in distance, height, and speed which have made the
aëroplane the marvel of the twentieth century, France vigorously
attacked the problem of turning out machines specially adapted for
military purposes. In 1910, France held the position of being the only
nation who possessed military aëroplanes to any great extent,
having no less than thirty-five. It may be noted that in that year the
British Government only possessed seven. It was in October, 1911,
that the magnificent tests carried out at Rheims taught the world the
importance of the aëroplane as an arm of war. It was those tests
which woke up this country to the fact that it was ignoring the
greatest military arm of the future. It was those tests that made
Germany, ever on the alert to increase and intensify her war
weapons, determined to leave nothing undone to set herself in the
van of progress! Germany, therefore, set to study the aëroplane
especially from the military point of view, and determined to build
aëroplanes which should embody simplicity, strength, high speed,
and weight-carrying capacity. Early in 1911 Germany could boast of
the possession of nearly fifty military aëroplanes, and from that time
forth she has been rapidly increasing the number. The number of
aëroplanes in Germany now available is variously estimated; it is
stated she has 500 quite modern military aëroplanes, a number of
older ones, and about 100 privately owned; others assert, however,
that Germany now has as many as 1,500 in the country.
In Sir John French’s report, mentioned in the introductory
chapter, he tells us that our own Flying Corps in the present war
were exposed to the shot of friend as well as of foe. As the German
aëroplanes have a more or less distinctive appearance, it seems
probable that these peculiar shapes were not well known to our
troops at the beginning of the war. Such a knowledge would protect
the aëroplanes of the Allies from being mistaken for those of the
enemy. The shape of a bird has been very generally adopted for the
German flying machines. The monoplanes are specially given the
form of a bird flying with wings stretched out and tail distended, the
ends of the back portion of the wings projecting beyond the central
part.
The biplane frequently presents in front an arrow-like
appearance, and the upper plane is bird-shaped. It will certainly be
incumbent upon us to ascertain, for the future development of flying
machines, how far the adoption of this natural bird-shape influences
speed, etc. The tables on the opposite page will give some idea of
the aëroplane equipment the Germans possessed at the beginning
of the war.
Regarding the various types of German aëroplanes, it must
suffice to enumerate a selection.

The Etrich Monoplane.

This was the forerunner of the German monoplanes, and very
representative of German type. These machines were first made in
Austria, and are excellent examples of strong, simple, efficient
military aircraft. The wing-shaped supporting planes have upturned
wing tips at the back, which are flexed up and down for the purpose
of lateral stability; the back portion of the tail plane is movable, and
can be flexed for elevating.
Regarding the other types of German machines, Germany
appears to have gone through three stages of construction: 1. The
stage in which the types evolved were chiefly copies of various well-
known French machines. 2. That in which a characteristic German
type was produced, the Taube (dove), a type which possessed many
excellent qualities, but also several defects.

Some German Biplanes.

Length Speed by
Area in Engine
Make and Type. Span. in the hour in
metres². and h.p.
metres. kilometres.
L.V.G., 14·9 m. 9 m. 44 m. Argus or 100 km.
1913 Mercèdes
100 h.p.
Otto 14·9 m. 10·8 m. — 100 h.p. 100 km.
Albatross 14·4 m. 9·2 m. — Argus or 110 km.
Mercèdes
100 h.p.
Rumpler Taube 13 m. 8·5 m. 38 m. Mercèdes —
100 h.p.
Aviatik 16 m. 10·8 m. 43 m. Argus or 100 km.
Mercèdes
100 h.p.

Some German Monoplanes.

 Length Speed by
Area in Engine and
Make and Type. Span. in the hour in
metres². h.p.
metres. kilometres.
Rumpler 14 m. 10·2 m. 35 m. Mercèdes 120 km.
Taube, 100 h.p.
1913–14
Kondor 14 m. 9·8 m. — Mercèdes 120 km.
100 h.p.
Albatross (Hirth 14·6 m. 10 m. 35 m. Mercèdes 105 km.
Type) 100 h.p.
Etrich Taube 14·3 m. 9·85 m. 38 m. Argus or 105 km.
Mercèdes
100 h.p.
Gotha Taube 14·4 m. 10·2 m. — Argus or 100 km.
Mercèdes
100 h.p.

3. That in which the indifferent qualities of the characteristic type

were removed.
Of the first type may be mentioned the Euler, which is a
modification of the Voisin; the Otto, which embodies the H. Farman
principles; the D.F.W. (Deutsche Flüggen Werk); some of these are
practically H. and M. Farman biplanes. They also include a rapid
type, called Mars biplanes, in which the main surfaces are shaped
like those of the famous Nieuport machine.
Amongst the more distinctive machines are

The Aviatik Biplane.

This is one of the most noticeable of German machines. A
special feature is the space provided in the front part of the fuselage,
which gives the observer every opportunity of free movement for
scouting, writing, photographing, and throwing bombs. The vital parts
and front are well fortified with a metallic “capot,” and the rest of the
fuselage is also armoured. The rapid erection and dismantling of this
machine has been especially well planned. The supporting surface
consists of two planes of unequal dimensions, the upper one being
the larger. Each is divided into two sections fixed independently on
the fuselage. The planes are coated with a liquid to render them
incombustible. The longitudinal stability is assured by a fixed plane
prolonged by a rudder for controlling the vertical movements. Two
large “ailerons” at the back of the upper planes are provided for
lateral stability.

[Topical Press.
A RUMPLER MONOPLANE (A TAUBE),
showing the distinctive bird shape so affected by the German monoplane makers.
Steering is effected by a vertical rudder placed between the two
portions of the horizontal plane rudder. The dimensions of one type
of the Aviatik can be seen in the table of types of German
aëroplanes.
 The Rumpler Monoplane.
In this, as in all the Taube flying machines, the wings are in the
shape of a dove or pigeon. The end of the wings are flexible. The
stability of the apparatus is assured both by the shape of the wings
and their flexibility. It is at once a combination of the inherent stability
type and that depending on the warping of surfaces; the advisability
of blending the principles is one practice alone can decide. In some
of the Rumpler monoplanes, instead of the ends of the wings being
flexible, there are “ailerons” attached.

The Rumpler Biplane.

This biplane with the Aviatik is remarkable for the amount of
space provided for pilot and observer. The fuselage is protected in
front with aluminium. The upper plane is not made to join in the
centre, as in most German machines; instead, there is a short
immovable central plane, which is permanently attached to the
fuselage by four tubes; to the ends of this central plane, on either
side, the other planes are fixed.

The Albatross.
This is a successful and much used German type, made at
Johannisthal, near Berlin; about two hundred of these machines
were made in 1913. The German Government have a great number
of Albatross biplanes and monoplanes (Taube), and also several
Albatross waterplanes. There appear to be four improved Albatross
types for this year, two of them biplanes, one waterplane, and one
monoplane (Taube), all with Mercèdes 100 h.p. motors, capable of
attaining a maximum speed of 65 to 68 m.p.h. The biplane types are
just over 26 feet in length, while the waterplane and monoplane
average 29¼ feet.
The Germans have not favoured rotary engines and have almost
exclusively adopted those with stationary cylinders, but an exception
has been made in the case of the Sommer arrow-shaped biplane.
Another feature of German machines is that they are all, with
one exception, double seated, the extra swiftly dashing scouting
monoplane does not seem to appeal to the German. We find,
however, one exception to the rule: the Argo type of monoplane is a
one-seated machine. It has a span of 9 metres, surface of 15 square
metres, and speed of 130 kilometres per hour.
A feature of aviation in Germany during the last few years of
peace has been the night flights. For these, they have made special
provision in the shape of aërial lighthouses, scattered all over the
country. Some of these are electrically lighted, others by acetylene;
some are “Morse” fires; some are fixed, others revolve, and the
nature of the light has a distinct meaning, such as “near is a high
tower to be avoided,” and so on. Germany is alone amongst the
nations in her appreciation of the necessity of aërial lighthouses.
Round Berlin there are six such stations at, respectively: Nauen,
Döberitz, Tegel, Reinickendorf, Linderberg, and Johannisthal; and
there are also aërial lighthouses at the following places:—
Königsberg, Posen, Liegnitz, Dresden, Belgern, Eilvese, Gotha,
Weimar, Schleissheim, Strasbourg, Grosser-Feldberg, Berncastel-
Cues, Metz, and Bonn.
Besides building aircraft on the lighter-than-air principle,
Germany has not been idle in their use during the last few years of
peace. She has German military flying schools, seventeen in
number. They are as follows, arranged alphabetically:—Darmstadt,
Döberitz, Freiburg, Germersheim, Graudenz, Hannover, Güterbog,
Köln (Cologne), Königsberg, Metz, München-Oberschleissheim,
München-Oberwiesenfeld, Posen, Saarbrücken, Schneidemühl,
Strasbourg, and Zeithain.
 There are three naval flying schools, at Kiel, Danzig, and
Wilhelmshaven, and about three dozen seaplanes, mainly biplanes
—Rumpler, Albatross, Curtiss, etc.
There are also in Germany no less than eighty-eight civilian
aëronautical bodies, many of whom possess flying grounds, and
there must be at least between thirty and forty of these private flying
grounds, in addition to those of the military schools.
M. Raoul Volens, in his lucid articles, has pointed out how
Germany, who was in 1911 so much behind France, has been able
to produce by 1914 an equipment that rivals hers. He points out that
in the Imperial manœuvres of 1911 it was with difficulty that Germany
could produce eight aëroplanes; in 1912 she produced eight
squadrons; at the end of that year 230 certificates had been granted
to pilots by the German Aëro Club; in 1913 the number was 600; in
1912 the number of flying machine manufacturing firms was twenty;
there were fifty in 1913. The number of flights made in Germany in
1911 was 7,489; in 1912, 17,651; in 1913 it was 36,817.
In 1911, the total duration of flights was 821 hours 41 minutes; in
1912, 1,966 hours 3 minutes; in 1913, 4,096 hours 48 minutes.
The progress made appears to have been largely due to the
efforts of the German National Aërial League, which collected
7,234,506 marks, to be spent on aëronautical development in a few
months’ time. The Council of the League made a very practical plan
for acquiring a large number of pilots, and at the same time
developing the most efficient class of machine possible. They left the
training of the pilots to the manufacturers, giving them grants for
each qualified pilot they had trained.
They also adopted the plan of giving premiums to pilots who
accomplished certain practical flights of the nature of what would be
required in war. For instance, if a pilot flew for an hour without a
drop, he received 1,000 marks; if he made the flight outside an
aërodrome, and was accompanied by a passenger, he received an
additional prize of 500 marks; for a flight of over six hours, a monthly
sum of 2,000 marks was given to a pilot who flew the longest
distance without descending for as long as he held the record.