To forget the disquieting mask of war — a terrible war — which looms like a watermark in the sky, we are passionate about the latest raids. Howard Hughes, on his Lockheed-14, completes the world tour with four companions. He stopped at Le Bourget on July 12, 1938, appeared in front of the photographers, unshaven and taciturn, then set off again and completed his journey in seventy-three hours of flight, five years after the same exploit by the one-eyed Wiley Post.
The Japanese Ihinouma and Tsukakushi land in London, coming from Tokyo. With a short tilt of the bust, a charming Asian smile on their lips, they respond to the cheers of the crowd who admire that this flight took place under the sign of poetry. The device has, in fact, been baptized “Vent-de-Dieu”:Kamikaze. A name that American sailors will appreciate less during the Pacific war.
In 1937, the Soviets had visited the Americans. Having left Mexico, Tchkalov and his companions landed in Portland on June 20. On July 4, Gromov reached California. The two crews had taken the route to the pole and thus opened a new path for commercial aviation.
Young people, with bright eyes, contemplate the heroes of the day and also dream of getting some fresh air. Unfortunately, the aeronautical industry mainly concentrated its efforts on military and transport aviation, and tourist aircraft were rare and expensive.
In France, however, hope rose in 1934. A unusual craft appears in the sky on Sundays. The wing is divided into two parts. The first is mobile and maneuvered by the pilot who thus instinctively ensures the stability of his aircraft, which has a wingspan of 6 m and 3.50 m in length. The latter, whose inventor is Henri Mignet, is called "Pou-du-Ciel".
We look at first with amusement, then with curiosity this strange insect. Finally, it is enthusiasm, enthusiasm. It is driven without taking long and costly flying lessons, and above all it is inexpensive:from 6,000 to 8,000 francs. You can also build it yourself, out of wood and plywood.
Everyone welcomes the advent of popular aviation. We tinker with our "Pou-du-Ciel" in our suburban garden. On Sunday, we leave motorcycles or tandems behind and fly. Either we don't fly, because the development of the small device is still delicate and its piloting, in principle easy, nevertheless requires some experience. But when you steal, it's joy, delirium. This is true freedom:that of the air.
Suddenly, concern wrinkles the brows of amateur pilots. A "Loose of Heaven"
falls, without apparent cause. Then another. In less than a year, we deplore eleven victims. We cannot blame human failure. Rather, it is the very design of the device that is to blame. The government must then prohibit the use of "Pou-du-Ciel". The beautiful dream had lasted two years.