Author: Grumpy
Born into poverty in the woods of West Virginia, Charles E. “Chuck” Yeager was a World War II aircraft mechanic, fighter pilot, double ace, military commander, and a test pilot who broke the sound barrier. His journey from Army private to USAF Brigadier General is an inspiration to all.
Yeager began his Air Force career in September 1941 as a private in the U.S. Army Air Corps, serving as an aircraft mechanic. While he wanted to be a pilot, that career path was initially closed to him due to his age and lack of education, as the Air Corps required two years of college and a minimum age of 20.
After Pearl Harbor, however, the standards were revised due to the urgent need for pilots, and Yeager was accepted into the flight officer program. While Yeager had excellent eyesight and other attributes for flight training, his first few flights were memorable for another reason: Yeager vomiting in the cockpit.
With time, the queasiness went away, and Yeager excelled at flying. He graduated from pilot training at Luke A.F.B. in March 1943. He then transferred to the 363rd Fighter Squadron at Tonopah, NV, and was trained with the Bell P-39 Airacobra. Once while he was showboating, he clipped a farmer’s tree during a training mission and was grounded for a week.
In November 1943, the unit shipped out to RAF Leiston and began training with the P-51 Mustang.
Shot Down
On his eighth mission, Yeager, who had one aerial victory so far when he took out a Me-109 on the way to Berlin, was shot down over occupied France. He bailed out and hit the ground running for the tree line, evading the Nazis.
Initially, he trained the French Resistance (Maquis) in the use of explosives and timers, which he learned from his father, who worked in the gas fields. He escaped to Spain with the help of the resistance while helping another wounded aviator over the Pyrenees. He then spent time in Malta before returning to England.
A Talk With Eisenhower
After his downing, Yeager’s days of combat were over. Or were they? At that time, there was a regulation that prohibited downed pilots (evaders) from flying over enemy territory again. This was to prevent the resistance groups from being compromised if the pilot was captured and interrogated.
Yeager’s desire to fly again was so intense that he spoke with Supreme Allied Commander General Dwight D. Eisenhower to request a return to combat status. Actually, Yeager wrote in his memoir that “I raised so much hell that General Eisenhower finally let me go back to my squadron.”
When they met, “Eisenhower said, ‘I’ve got guys shooting themselves in the foot to go home. What is the matter with you?” Yeager replied, “General, I haven’t done my job. I don’t want to leave my buddies after only eight missions. It just isn’t right. I’ve got a lot of fightin’ left to do.”
Eisenhower told him that it was the War Department’s policy, but he would ask for permission to send Yeager back. While waiting, Yeager was limited to short-range missions, but managed to bag a Junkers Ju-88 bomber flying over the English Channel for his second kill.
In August 1944, Yeager returned to combat status and was issued a P-51C Mustang with a Malcom Hood canopy and, almost immediately, a P-51D, which he christened Glamorous Glen III, after his future wife, Glennis Dickhouse. On Oct 12, 1944, Yeager made squadron history when he became their first “Ace in a Day” with five kills of Luftwaffe Me-109’s.
On November 27, 1944, Yeager continued his hot streak, downing four Fw-190 fighters. He would also score one of the first victories of a Me 262 jet fighter and end the war with 13 kills. On January 15, 1945, he flew his last mission and returned to the U.S., having completed 61 missions in total.
Due to his status as an Evader, Yeager was given his choice of assignments and chose to be a functional test pilot of repaired aircraft at Wright Field.
Test Pilot
With the war now over, Yeager graduated from the Flight Performance School and landed a dream job as a test pilot at Muroc Army Airfield (Edwards A.F.B.)
After a Bell Aircraft Test pilot demanded $150,000 to break the sound barrier with their new rocket-powered X-1, Col. Albert Boyd, the chief of the Flight Test Division, successfully lobbied to get the X-1 project under his command. Boyd had already assembled a team of the best test pilots around. Now, Yeager was selected to be the first to break the sound barrier.
Two days before the record-breaking flight attempt of the X-1, Yeager was out horseback riding with Glennis and broke two ribs. Yeager, certain the injury would get him scrubbed from the mission, found a civilian doctor in nearby Rosamond to patch him up.
Now comes the hard part. In order to close the hatch on the X-1, Yeager had to hold it down and slam down a lever to seal it. This was not going to happen with two broken ribs. He asked his pilot/flight engineer friend, Jack Ridley, to help him come up with a solution.
Ridley chopped off a section of broom handle, and the pair tested it on the ground. The next day, the broomstick hatch tool worked perfectly, and Yeager was on his way to the history books. Yeager broke the sound barrier with a speed of Mach 1.05 at an altitude of 45,000 feet.
The 50’s
Yeager was the first American pilot to fly a MIG-15 due to the defection of a North Korean Pilot. In 1953, Yeager was a part of the X-1A team in search of breaking the Mach 2 barrier. Yeager set a new speed record in December 1953 when he flew the X-1A to Mach 2.44, breaking a recent Navy record and spoiling their planned celebration of the event.
The new flight record, however, almost killed Yeager. Just before reaching Mach 2.44, the X-1A became uncontrollable when it experienced “inertia coupling,” a condition that caused the aircraft to pitch, roll and yaw simultaneously. The X-1A dropped from 51,000 feet to 29,000 feet in less than a minute before Yeager regained control of the plane.
The 60’s
In 1962, Yeager, now a full colonel, became the first commandant of the USAF Aerospace Research Pilot School. The school was the first stop for pilots wishing to become astronauts. While Yeager was arguably the best pilot at the time, his lack of a college degree kept him from serving as an astronaut.
In December 1963, Yeager began test flights of the M2F1 “Lifting body, also known as the “Bathtub”. You may recognize this aircraft from the opening crash scene of the “Six Million Dollar Man” television series. It was here that Yeager suffered his most serious injury.
Another program in the works at the time was the NF-104, which was a rocket-assisted Lockheed F-104 Starfighter. It was one of the first programs created to train pilots for astronaut duties.
Yeager took off and reached nearly 100,000 feet when the aircraft became unresponsive and entered a flat spin. The Starfighter lost approximately 95,000 feet of altitude with Yeager attempting to gain control all the way down. At one point, Yeager deployed the Starfighter’s drag chute in hopes of straightening the aircraft and restarting the engine.
With only a few seconds left, Yeager ejected from the Starfighter. During the ejection sequence, the ejection seat base struck him in the head, and the hot rocket motor broke his faceplate, which caused the oxygen supply to catch fire and severely burn his face. Yeager suffered through numerous operations for his facial burns. This was the end of his test flight career.
Vietnam, Retirement and Beyond
In 1966, Yeager assumed command of the 405th Fighter Wing at Clark Air Base, Philippines, which rotated throughout Southeast Asia and South Vietnam, flying 127 missions.
In the early 1970’s, Yeager was assigned as the air attaché to the Pakistani Air Force, assisting them with integrating the AIM-9 Sidewinder missile onto their fighter aircraft.
In March 1975, Yeager finally retired with 34 years of service. Not one to sit around, Yeager kept busy with a variety of projects. He made a cameo appearance as Fred the bartender in the movie “The Right Stuff,” which, in part, told his story of breaking the sound barrier. He drove a Corvette pace car at the Indianapolis 500. He flew an F-15D Eagle in celebration of the 50th anniversary of his record-breaking flight. He was a spokesman for AC Delco auto parts and a consultant to Northrop Grumman for the F-20 Tigershark.
Yeager passed away on Pearl Harbor Day, 2020, at the age of 97.
Legacy
His military decorations and awards include the Distinguished Service Medal, Silver Star with oak leaf cluster, Legion of Merit with oak leaf cluster, Distinguished Flying Cross with two oak leaf clusters, Bronze Star Medal with “V” device, Air Medal with 10 oak leaf clusters, Air Force Commendation Medal, Purple Heart, Distinguished Unit Citation Emblem with oak leaf cluster, Air Force Outstanding Unit Award Ribbon, and the Congressional Medal of Freedom.
Yeager was a command pilot and had flown more than 12,000 hours in 361 different makes and models of military aircraft in service to his country.
The Brazilian Model 1935 Mauser Banner Short Rifle is a fascinating piece of military history, embodying a unique blend of design, functionality, and legacy. Originating from Germany, this firearm was purchased alongside the Model 1935 Rifle, marking a significant phase in Brazilian military armament. While the exact number of units issued to Brazilian troops remains unknown, the Model 1935 Short Rifle stands out for its distinctive features.
One of the key differences between the short rifle and its longer counterpart is the design of the bolt handle. The Model 1935 Short Rifle features a bent bolt handle, elegantly designed to fit into a specially crafted cutout in the stock, accommodating both the handle and the bolt knob. This ergonomic design not only enhances the rifle’s appearance but also improves its functionality in the field.
With a total length of 42.0 inches and a weight of 9.0 pounds, this rifle is comparatively more compact and maneuverable than its longer counterpart. The barrel, measuring 21.5 inches, is designed for precision and accuracy. The rifle is chambered for the 7 x 57mm cartridge, a caliber known for its balance of power and manageable recoil, making it suitable for various military applications.
The rifling of the barrel features a 4-groove, right-hand pattern, contributing to the rifle’s accuracy and longevity. The turnbolt action is a classic Mauser feature, known for its reliability and ease of use, especially in challenging conditions. The feeding mechanism includes a 5-round, staggered column, flush, box magazine, which allows for rapid reloading and uninterrupted firing in combat situations.
For aiming, the rifle is equipped with a tangent leaf rear sight, graduated up to 1400 meters. This sight system provides soldiers with the flexibility to engage targets at varying distances, enhancing the rifle’s versatility on the battlefield.
In terms of aesthetics and historical significance, the Brazilian Model 1935 Mauser Banner Short Rifle is adorned with the Brazilian national crest on the receiver ring, adding a touch of national pride and identity. The Mauser Banner logo, prominently displayed on the receiver bridge, signifies the rifle’s origin and quality, as Mauser is renowned for its exceptional craftsmanship. Additionally, the manufacturer’s markings on the side rail provide a glimpse into the rifle’s production history.
The Model 1935 Mauser Banner Short Rifle is not just a firearm; it’s a symbol of a historical era, representing the evolution of military technology and the close ties between Brazil and Germany during that period. Its legacy lives on among collectors and historians, who value it for both its technical merits and its historical significance.
The Vasa was built to project Swedish power, terrify rivals, and dominate the sea. Instead, this lavish 1628 warship barely made it off the dock before tipping over and turning into one of naval history’s most spectacular disasters.
A GunsAmerica History Detour That Reaches Back to 1626
If you’ve followed these history articles for very long, you come to appreciate that there is absolutely no rhyme or reason to any of them. I send an example in once a week, my editors work their magic, and then something shows up most every Monday. I have no idea how they decide what runs when. I’m just as surprised as you are.
I try to craft everything around a military or firearms-related theme. It is called GunsAmerica, after all. Some of these are drawn from the latest headlines. Most spawn from WW2. That was the most expansive conflict in human history, so it stands to reason. I can’t recall how far back we have reached, but today’s project might set some kind of record. Our tale begins in 1626, when the world was a very different place.
A Brave New World of Sail, Steel, and Imperial Ambition
The 2003 Peter Weir epic Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World is a perennial favorite. Drawn from a couple of Patrick O’Brian books that chronicle the adventures of Royal Navy sea captain Jack Aubrey, Master and Commander stars Russell Crowe and Paul Bettany and is a simply magnificent watch.
I’ve read a few of O’Brien’s books, and they were great. The movie, however, is indeed a masterclass in naval filmmaking. It cost $150 million to produce and still made a decent profit. If you haven’t seen it, check it out. You’ll thank me later.
There is a timeless allure to naval combat in the era of sail. Like submarine movies, it is easy to find drama in that space. It is tempting for modern students of military history to speciously lump all that together as a single era. Nowadays, military tech evolves so quickly that war in 2026 is fundamentally different from combat in 2003 and unrecognizable from the same stuff in 1944.
By contrast, the era of sail spans from the battle of Lepanto in 1571 all the way up to the mid-19th century and the development of steam-powered warships.
In fact, a relative of mine commanded the USS Lanikai during the frenetic evacuation from the Philippines at the beginning of WW2. The Lanikai was a hastily commissioned schooner press-ganged into service in 1941 during a particularly harrowing period in US Navy history.
To my knowledge, the Lanikai was the last US Navy sailing ship to participate in combat operations. Once I have a chance to reread my cousin’s exploits, we will likely explore that in this space as well.
Master and Commander was set in 1808 during the Napoleonic Wars. The ship we will discuss today was launched in 1628. The point simply being that this period in military history spanned centuries.
Sweden’s Age of Greatness Set the Stage for the Vasa
Nowadays, Sweden is best known for IKEA, Volvo, ABBA, and lots of hot Viking women who look like the elves from The Lord of the Rings. Back in the 17th-century, however, Sweden was a major military superpower. They called this period Stormakststiden or the “Age of Greatness.”
The Swedes had not quite shaken off their Viking heritage, so they were quick to get into everybody else’s business. With a powerful central government, Sweden developed an exceptionally efficient military organization. That meant a formidable land army as well as the capacity for some pretty serious power projection at sea.
Naval Engineering Before Computers Was Art, Nerve, and Guesswork
In the Information Age, computers design our weapons. Every single piece of a modern warship is electronically crafted to optimize its function. Today’s military hardware is exhaustively tested in the digital realm before a single component ends up cast or cut in steel. However, that was obviously not always the case.
As an example, some of the first combat submarines were designed in the 1870’s by an English pastor named George Garrett. These vessels were powered by steam. The rub was that any sensible person knows you cannot make a steam-powered vessel go underwater. As soon as their crews tried to fire a torpedo or maneuver these things, they promptly rolled over and sank. That didn’t stop Garrett and his investors from selling these deathtraps to Turkey, Greece, and Russia.
Back in the 17th century, shipbuilding was as much art as science. Massive ocean-going vessels hundreds of feet long were designed and built using nothing fancier than a ruler and a lot of on-the-job experience. The amazing thing is that some of them actually worked.
Meet the Vasa, the Swedish Warship Built to Terrify Rivals
In the early 1600’s, Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus was heavily engaged in an existential fight against Poland and Lithuania. Then as now, mighty warships both projected military power and embodied national pride. Whoever had the biggest ships with the most guns commanded the most respect. At a time when naval battles were won with withering broadsides and iron-willed men swinging on ropes, brandishing cutlasses, King Adolphus aimed to dominate all comers. His newest dreadnaught was christened the Vasa.
The Vasa was indeed a formidable beast. Spanning 226 feet long and 38 feet wide, she ran 152 feet from the bottom of her keel to the top of her mainmast. The Vasa sported 13,720 square feet of sail and displaced 1,210 tons.
The entire ship was configured for combat. This massive vessel was crewed with 145 sailors and carried around 300 soldiers, what we might call Marines today. She sported 64 serious guns. Forty-eight of these were massive bronze naval 24-pounders arrayed across two gun decks. She also included eight 3-pounders and two 1-pounders for close-range antipersonnel work.
Modern weapons are fairly utilitarian. The B2 Spirit stealth bomber is both beautiful and elegant, because that is the nature of its design. The A10 Warthog ground attack plane is so bug-ugly as to be attractive in its own weird way. Back in 1628, however, shipbuilders invested a little effort just making their warships look awesome.
As a result, the Vasa was richly decorated in a manner befitting her King’s royal ambitions. Her heavy oak hull sported almost feminine curves. At the time of her completion, the Vasa was one of the most heavily armed warships in the world.
The Vasa Looked Glorious, but Trouble Was Already Brewing
The Vasa took two years to build. She was crafted by a Dutchman named Henrik Hybertsson or “Master Henrik.” Hybertsson was under contract to build four warships for the Swedish regent. He laid the keel of the Vasa in February of 1626.
Throughout her construction, the Swedish king hounded Hybertsson to hurry. There was a war on, and Adolphus needed the firepower. However, Master Henrik fell ill soon after the project began. Construction duties were passed on to another Dutch shipbuilder named Henrik Jacobsson. Hybertsson subsequently died in the summer of 1627. Thankfully, for reasons we will discuss directly, he never got to see his massive creation take to the sea.
The Swedish industrial base was inadequate to source the materials needed to rig out a vessel of this magnitude. As a result, her flax sails came from Holland, and the hemp used to craft the ship’s extensive rigging originated in Latvia. Most of the oak timber was sourced from Swedish estates. The Vasa was astronomically expensive.
Before Launch, the Vasa already felt dangerously top-heavy
The Vasa was soft-launched in the spring of 1627, about the same time Master Henrik died. That bit went swimmingly. Shipbuilders finished out the sterncastle, the upper deck, and the beakhead while the big ship was afloat.
The beakhead was the ornate bit up front just above the figurehead. Ships of this era were extravagantly decorated, and the beakhead made the first impression on other ships, both enemy and otherwise. Curiously, that’s also where the ship’s latrine was located. When modern sailors hit the head for a little quality time, that’s where the term comes from.
Visitors to the ship commented that she seemed a wee bit top-heavy. Her draft when fully loaded was only 16 feet, and all those bronze cannons were pretty darn massive. In mid-1628, Captain Söfring Hansson arranged to demonstrate the ship’s stability to Vice Admiral Fleming. Captain Hansson had thirty members of his crew run back and forth across the upper deck to get the ship rolling. However, the admiral grew uneasy and put a stop to the test after only three cycles out of concern that the ship might capsize.
The Vasa’s Maiden Voyage Turned Into a Catastrophe in Minutes
On 10 August 1628, Captain Hansson took his place on the bridge and gave orders that the Vasa cast off her moorings. Draft animals on shore began the process by tugging on the anchor. The day was bright and clear with the tiniest breeze from the southwest. However, with so much sail to help her along, they did eventually get the big ship moving.
This was a big day, and most of Stockholm came out to watch. To commemorate the event, Captain Hansson had the gun ports opened and fired the main batteries in salute as soon as it was safe to do so. Then a proper gust of wind hit the ship from the side.
The Vasa suddenly and severely heeled to port. In response, Captain Hansson dropped her sheets, and the massive ship righted herself. However, at the next break in the nearby bluffs, a stronger gust hit the vessel and pushed her even farther over. This time, the sea poured into the lower gunports, flooding the first gun deck. In short order, water filled the hold, and the hulking warship promptly sank. She was only 120 meters from shore. Thousands of spectators watched the whole sordid scene in horror. Thirty of her complement drowned.
Blame, Salvage, and 333 Years on the Bottom
There resulted the obligatory recriminations. The crew blamed the builders, and the builders blamed the crew. Eventually, everyone decided that the fault must lie with Henrik Hybertsson, mostly because he was dead and couldn’t defend himself.
Though the Vasa was a total write-off, her guns remained quite valuable. More than fifty of them were recovered using primitive diving equipment between 1663 and 1665. And there she sat on the bottom of the Stockholm harbor…for some 333 years.
The Vasa Rose Again and Became a Museum Time Capsule
In 1956, an amateur archaeologist named Anders Frazien used a homemade gravity-driven probe to discover a large wooden object in about the right spot. Divers subsequently spent two years excavating half a dozen tunnels underneath the wreck using high-pressure water jets. That operation required more than 1,300 separate dives. Over a series of eighteen sequential pneumatic lifts, the old wreck eventually broke the surface. The wooden structure then had to be soaked in polyethylene glycol for some seventeen years to stabilize it fully.
The Vasa museum officially opened for visitors in 1990. Since then, some 45 million people have enjoyed the exquisitely restored old warship. Period clothing, shoes, money, privately purchased items, and sundry ephemera were shockingly well-preserved and lend fascinating insights into naval life during the 17th century. The Vasa’s one and only voyage carried her a whopping 1,300 meters from her mooring. However, the Vasa nonetheless remains a time capsule offering a priceless connection to a very different time.