Prior to its civilian service in Australia, South Pacific correspondent Michael John Claringbould reveals that Douglas’ four engined transport roamed Australian skies as early as WWII.
The grand new arrival, surprisingly, made little fanfare when first presented to the public. America’s newspapers had been quick enough to tout “the new four-engined bomber” when the Flying Fortress had first appeared, however they treated the “new four-engined transport” with more distain, largely as Boeing’s first pressurized four-engined airliner –the Stratoliner – had already appeared in 1940.
The new transport was of course the C-54, later known in civilian guise as the DC-4, later operated by the U.S Navy as the R5D, but commonly referred by all as the Four. Its official name, Skymaster, never really caught on. When the C-54 was born, the DC-3 was already ubiquitous. What made the C-54 revolutionary for its day was the fact that it sported twice as many engines as its smaller sister. It was bigger and faster, but equally reliable and nearly as forgiving as the DC-3. Pilots soon learned it was heavier on the controls, although a basic autopilot reduced workload on extended journeys.
Managing four powerplants instead of two was not as difficult as first envisaged. Engine disharmony was easily discerned. Giveaway sudden jolts were harbingers of trouble to come, or indicated that alterations to power settings were needed. Pilots soon learned that undivided attention and finessed settings were the key to keeping all four radials purring.
A subtle balance of mixture, throttle, manifold pressure and carburetor heat was required. Climb and descent required careful planning, and continuous monitoring of fuel flows, especially on long journeys, was essential. The operating manual had no shortage of ‘howgozit’ charts upon which to plan engine settings.
The C-54 soon became popular with its crews. Perhaps the most noticeable quirk was the floor groans produced when taxiing, caused mostly by hydraulic system eccentricities, including actuators with attitude. The C-54’s Pratt and Whitney R-2000 radial engines performed solidly in all parts of the globe, and in all weather.
They required exponentially more attention from the cockpit than their later cousins, the high bypass fanjets of the modern era, yet they retained character in spades. Like the DC-3, the Four had a transparent radome in the roof behind the pilot. The idea was that accurate celestial fixes could be taken at night. Like the radome in the DC-3, it too leaked during thunderstorms.
At start-up there was satisfaction in watching the props turn slowly and purposely before kicking into ignition. Shortly thereafter the engine would find its throat, and when all four were advanced to full power the whole airport knew about it. By today’s standards a fully-loaded C-54 was a groundhog, especially when it was hot. The author recalls rumbling down the entire length of Jackson’s Airport, Port Moresby, as a C-54 passenger in 1963. As a boy I did not appreciate the meaning of density altitude.
It was a sultry day, even by Port Moresby standards, but our Douglas did eventually redefine the relationship between man and gravity, albeit barely before runway’s end. But it cruised to Brisbane just fine, and in style. It was hard not to admire the perfect circles carved by propellers spinning at 2,000 rpm as one looked rearwards from seat 5A. No fatality has yet occurred on Australian soil in a Four.
The definitive novel about the Four surely has to be Ernest Gann’s ‘The High and The Mighty’. Gann, a consummate pilot himself, gives colour to the minutiae involved in keeping a Four airborne when it throws a prop over the Pacific. Gann’s narrative cannot be faulted as he ratchets up the suspense in a play of distance versus time.
His descriptions of an airliner in danger are as compelling as revealing. Nowhere in his text does Gann specify that the aircraft in question is a Four. Nonetheless, such is his obvious affection for the aircraft that its clear identity is exposed within the opening pages.
The DC-4 is remembered in Australia mostly as it appeared in civilian liveries throughout the 1940s to 1960s. However it may surprise readers to learn that it first appeared in Australia as early as 1942. The “new four-engined transport” made its Australasian debut serving the USAAF Air Transport Command (ATC). This organization was essentially an airline in military livery, its formation occurring right at the beginning of WW2.
When the war ended, it had become an outfit larger than the entire U.S airliner fleet. ATC grew naturally from USAAF Ferry Command. During ATC’s early era, new delivery routes were still under development.
The new ATC command reported directly to the U.S President, and operated independently of the Army and the Navy. ATC undertook ferrying and transport duties outside those involving combat operations. These were assigned to Troop Carrier units. This did not necessarily mean less losses. ATC lost more aircraft over ‘The Hump’ (the mountainous corridor between China and Burma) to weather than fellow USAAF combat units.
Although ATC was a military outfit, it initially drew heavily upon the commercial airlines for aircrews. The civilian converts which flew modern ATC aircraft soon incurred sobriquets from military counterparts in combat units. They derided ATC as the ‘Army of Terrified Co-pilots’ or ‘Allergic To Combat’.
Even prior to Pearl Harbor, the War Department had committed to purchasing Douglas’ new C-54. Alongside the C-47 and C-46 Commando, these three types would carry most ATC duties. The C-47 was too slow and lacking in payload for long distance oceanic flights.
In 1941, whilst the C-54 remained on order but had not yet appeared on parking ramps, a stop-gap long-range aircraft had to be found. Several LB-30 Liberators were repossessed from British contracts and converted into transports. Two of these found their way to Australia where they eventually served Troop Carrier units.
An additional five LB-30s serviced the route between the U.S West coast and Australia. These converted Liberators were designated C-87s, and flew ATC long-haul missions until the Four entered ATC service in sufficient number.
The ATC Pacific Wing built itself on the original USAAF 27th Ferrying Wing, and operated the South Pacific Air Route from Hamilton Field (California) via Hickam Field (Hawaii) to either Brisbane or Williamtown (NSW). Their C-54s flew via Nadi (Fiji) and Tontouta (New Caledonia) with cargo and passengers.
Later links were established with Auckland and Henderson Field (Solomon Islands), with Hollandia, Townsville, Port Moresby and Biak also becoming later destinations.
Apart from mail, personnel, VIPs and logistics, the C-54s also delivered USO entertainers to the New Guinea and Philippines theatres via Australia. Hollywood names such as Bob Hope, Una Merkel, Cary Grant, John Wayne, James Cagney, Jack Benny and Carole Landis appeared on C-54 manifests, spending time in Australia on the way.
Then the war finished and civilian Fours appeared everywhere. Flying them was a prestige job. In those days flying was special and one dressed accordingly, with minimum sartorial standards of long dresses for ladies and suits for men.
Corporate magazines were presented in leather-bound jackets and flight progress, signed by the captain no less, was circulated among the passengers on a cardboard card. Flying aboard the Four was not the de-sexed and invasive airline travel that we endure in 2010.
The first Fours had oval windows and a snub, almost tubby, nose which gave it a handsome but reserved appearance. Later Fours acquired a more pointed nose which made it more sleek, but in doing so arguably reduced its character.
When the Douglas factory shut down the Four production line, they had built 1,241 of these fine machines, only a handful of which are still flying today. HARS has done good work in restoring one to flying condition. May it long grace our skies as a reminder of a past golden age.