Operation Elmira

By Rachel Dworkin, archivist

On D-Day, June 6, 1944, just as the sun was setting, two waves of Douglas C-47s towing Horsa and Waco CG-4A gliders flew east over Utah Beach in Normandy, France. They were headed for Ste-Mére-Eglise, just a few miles in from the coast. Loaded aboard the 176 gliders were 1,190 troops, 59 vehicles, 25 anti-tank guns, and 131 tons of ammunition. It was Operation Elmira and they were flying into trouble.

The first glider combat operation was carried out by the Germans on May 10, 1940 when they used them to land troops inside Fort Eben-Emael, Belgium, allowing them to take what was supposed to be an impenetrable fortress. The United States Army Air Corps began its own glider program in February 1941 in response. In May 1941, army glider pilots began training at Harris Hill in Elmira, New York, on the east coast, and Twenty-Nine Palms, California, on the west. These early trainees were trained on commercial sailplanes, including the Schweizer SGS 2-8, manufactured here in Elmira. After the attack on Pearl Harbor and America’s entry into the war in December 1941, the Air Corps began training its glider pilots in earnest. American forces first used gliders during the Sicily campaign of 1943 and again in Burma in 1944. 

 

Gliders proved a valuable tool during the invasion of Normandy in June 1944. Operation Elmira was the third and final mission flown by the 82^nd Airborne Division on D-Day. The goal of Operation Elmira was to bring in reinforcements and equipment to paratroopers who had parachuted in earlier in the day. The mission consisted 36 Waco CG-4A gliders and 140 Horsa gliders towed by 176 Douglas C-47 airplanes. They left England around 6:30 pm and arrived in France in two waves. The first wave arrived around 9pm while the second arrived two hours later around 11pm. 

Horsa glider being pulled by a tow plane on its way to Normandy, June 6, 1944

 Things went wrong fast. The original plan called for the gliders to land at two different zones, LZ W and LZ O, but troops on the ground were unable to secure LZ W. Ground forces attempted to communicate with the in-coming pilots to warn them to divert all gliders to LZ O, but the message never went through. Instead, the C-47’s and their gliders flew into a barrage of German ground fire as soon as they began their approaches over LZ W. Of the 176 airplanes, 92 were damaged and five are shot down. Eight of the pilots were injured and one was killed. Things were even worse for the gilder pilots.

The gliders came down hard. One pilot, Ben Ward, touched down in a field only to realize that his break line had been shot out and they were headed for a pair of trees at 90 miles per hour. Their Horsa glider slid between the trees, sheering off the sides of the fuselage and killing one of their passengers. All told, most of the gliders were destroyed upon landing. Ten of their pilots were killed on impact with 29 injured and 7 missing in action. Of the 1,190 troops they carried, 157 were killed or injured. 

Horsa glider with rear open for loading

 The glider crews and passengers were still in danger even after they landed, considering many of them had landed behind enemy lines. Glider pilot Clifford Fearn had barely unbuckled his safety harness when his glider was overrun by Germans and they were all taken prisoner. He was freed a few hours later by advancing American troops. Another pilot, Rollin B. Fowler, found himself in a similar situation but managed to free himself with a grenade he had stuffed down his pants.

Despite the initial issues with the landing zones and resulting casualties, Operation Elmira was largely considered a success. Most of their cargo was delivered undamaged, as were the reinforcements. Seeing the first wave arrived in daylight hours helped boost American morale, even as it demoralized the Germans. Gliders continued to be used throughout the war, including on the very next day. Despite how useful they had been in delivering men and supplies, the sun soon set on combat gliders. They were never used again after World War II. Instead, they were replaced in their role by helicopters which had the advantage of being able to fly in and out under their own steam.  

 

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If you’re interested in learning more about Operation Elmira, the Chemung County Historical Society has a collection of first-person accounts of men who participated as compiled by researcher Adelbert Sahlberg in 1998.

Stand up for Safety: Aviator Leon "Windy" Smith

 by Susan Zehnder, Education Director

    “It is mighty easy Mr. Praeger for you to sit in your swivel chair in Washington and tell the flyers when they can fly…”

Windy Smith in the cockpit

When Leon D. Smith sent this message, it ended up getting him fired from his job and blacklisted from the post office air service. It also set off the first ever pilots’ strike.

Born in Millerton, PA, in 1889, Leon D. Smith was the youngest son of Dr. Frank W. Smith and Mary Anne Miller Smith. His father was a dentist who opened a practice in Elmira at 328 East Water Street. Leon Smith had been called “Windy” since he was a child, because he talked a lot. In school, he was known as an athlete and excelled in football. 

His two older brothers went into farming, but Windy was looking for something different. It wasn't until he met and became friends with aviation pioneer Glenn Curtiss in nearby Hammondsport, that he discovered his lifelong passion for flying. In 1913, Smith graduated from the Curtiss Aviation School, and immediately became a flight instructor. He was 24 years old. The country had a growing need for more pilots. Less than one year later, World War I broke out, and the demand for skilled pilots increased even more.

Teaching flying in Alabama

Flying was new and people were looking for what aviation could offer including moving the mail farther and faster. The first mail flights were in 1911, but regular service didn’t begin until May 15, 1918. The first issued airmail stamp cost 24 cents. The early routes used government-operated planes, and pilots logged valuable long-distance flying time and aerial navigation experience. Establishing regular service meant the mail could be more reliable. The first flight of scheduled service consisted of six U.S. Army “Jenny” biplanes, piloted by military officers. President Woodrow Wilson and U.S. Postmaster General Albert S. Burleson were two of the dignitaries that attended to witness their take-off. Each of the six planes carried over a hundred pounds of mail from Washington, D.C., to Belmont Park, New York City. The flight was 218 miles, necessitating a brief stopover in Philadelphia. Of these six planes, one didn’t make it. The pilot became disoriented soon after take-off, and he needed to return to earth. Upon landing, the plane was badly damaged, so his payload of mail was loaded on a truck and driven back to Washington.

After four months, the Aerial Mail Service of the U.S. Post Office Department was established and took over mail delivery. Now, the department had a fleet of purpose-built biplanes staffed by a crew of civilian pilots. In December 1918, 28-year-old Leon D. “Windy” Smith was hired as one of those pilots.

Six months later, on June 22, 1919, the weather turned to heavy fog and the pilots complained to each other. Smith took it farther and wrote directly to Second Assistant Postmaster General Otto Praeger with his objections. He pointed out that only a week earlier, Charles Lamborn, whom he called one of the best flyers in the United States, had lost his life while attempting to deliver the mail.

Praeger immediately fired pilots Smith and E. Hamilton Lee for refusing to fly. This motivated all the pilots to go on strike and for weeks, airmail service stopped completely. When it was over, all pilots, except Smith, were rehired. Praeger held fast to his grudge against Smith.

Praeger had been appointed to his position by Postmaster General Burleson, his one qualification being that he was Burleson’s fishing and hunting buddy. Praeger was ambitious but lacked experience and understanding of the new kind of transportation. Between 1918 and 1926, thirty-five pilots lost their lives in service to the U.S. Postal Service. Being denied his job with the Post Office didn’t stop Smith from flying. 

Posing with his stunt woman

He went back to teaching pilots to fly, and he started “Windy Smith’s Air Circus,” an aerial acrobatics and stunt business. One of those daring stunts was covered in another one of our blogs titled FallingWomen: Elmira’s Lady Parachutists.

Leon D. “Windy” Smith, always known as a safe pilot, died in 1960 at the age of 70. He is buried in Woodlawn Cemetery.

 

Up, Up, and Away

 By Susan Zehnder, Education Director

For two days in July 1911, thousands of people flocked to Elmira’s Maple Avenue Park. What was it they paid .50 cents to attend, and an additional .25 cents to sit in the grandstands to watch?

The event was The Curtiss-Beachy Aviation Meet organized by the Star-Gazette newspaper. The meet brought together the latest in aviation technology with the daring and flashy flying of a 24-year old pilot, named Lincoln Beachey, whom the paper called the “greatest living birdman.” It was a combination few could resist.

Airplanes were then in their infancy and the public was fascinated with flying machines. Although the Wright brothers of Ohio gained early fame for their aeronautical experiments, New York State was also a hub of flying activity. Glenn Curtiss, or nearby Hammondsport, NY, was an aviation pioneer and inventor, having successfully flown a plane of his own design in 1908. At the 1911 Elmira meet, the Glenn Curtiss exhibition team – which included young men and at least one woman - showcased what Curtiss’s planes could do. The team pushed limits by performing exhilarating airborne acrobatics.

At 24 years old, Curtiss pilot Lincoln Beachey was already considered one of the best.

Lincoln Beachey

Beachey was born in San Francisco in 1887. When he was 17 years old, he joined his older brother to work on dirigibles. In 1910, his brother took up flying, and Beachey followed suit. At a June 1911 air show, Beachey successfully recovered from a nose-diving spin, something no other pilot had survived. This caught the eye of Curtiss, who invited Beachey to join his exhibition team. Another team member was Blanche Stuart Scott, the first woman credited with flying solo. (Scott also appears in our blog on Women Drivers, which recounts her 1910 transcontinental drive in a Willys-Overland sponsored by the John North Willys from Elmira.)

Air shows, stunts and races were an exciting way for the public to see what airplanes could do. Before the Curtiss-Beachey Aviation Meet took place, The Star-Gazette dedicated the entire front page of its evening edition to the aeronautical event. Articles covered how to get to the meet, and what to expect at the event. Spectators were invited to view the Curtiss planes up close, to watch daring aviation exploits, and to observe skilled flying that demonstrated the usefulness of airplanes. The organizers charged a fee to watch, but nothing to park your automobile. Trolley schedules were doubled and ran on the half-minute. Businesses used the opportunity to advertise their products with aviation themes like this ad for pest control. 

Joining the team and getting used to flying the new Curtiss designs, Beachey crashed three times. He wore a business suit while he flew, and was known for his modest and unassuming manner. Though at one time he donned women’s clothing and flew erratically in front of a shocked crowd to mock Miss Scott.

As a celebrity, the paper covered every move that Beachey made prior to flying and afterwards. Rorick’s Glen had an Aviator’s evening inviting Beachey to attend.

Beachey did not disappoint. Although he crashed three times while getting use to flying the new Curtiss designs, on the day of the meet he successfully performed loops and flybys. He demonstrated how planes could be useful in war to drop “bombs” onto targets, and he took up the challenge to race another vehicle. Known for his modest and unassuming manner, he wore a business suit while he flew. The exception is the flight later in his career during which he donned women’s clothing and flew erratically in front of a shocked crowd to mock Miss Scott.

The air-ground competition was the anticipated highlight of the evening. Beachey flew a Curtiss Bi-Plane. His competitor, George Saulsman drove a Chalmers 40 sponsored by the American-LaFrance Fire Engine Company. Saulsman reached speeds of 70 mph as he rounded the track, but Beachey won the race. Inspired by the crowd, speed, or lucrative nature of races, Beachey later approached racecar driver Barney Oldfield driver from Ohio to repeat the stunt. The two of them would go on to compete at more than 35 different venues around the country, and together they earned more than $250,000, or over 6 million dollars today.

The evening was a success, even though a heavy rainfall interrupted events causing the crowd to temporarily relocate under the grandstands until it passed.

Beachey would return to Elmira more three times to put on airshows. But, in 1915, his daredevilry caught up with him, and he died in a plane crash. He was 28 years old. Barney Oldfield lived until 1946, when he died of a heart attack at 68. 

Beachey flying in Elmira, 1912

The aerial speed show that flew over Elmira that July must have been thrilling to watch and well worth the .75 cents spent.

Women Drivers

by Susan Zehnder, Education Director

While living in Vienna, Austria, German born Siegfried Marcus invented the first successful gasoline-powered car in the late 1880s. Not long after, the wife of another automotive inventor took it upon herself to prove that her husband's vehicles were equally worthy. In August of 1888, Bertha Benz, set out on a long drive with her two teenage sons. Stories about her journey include her resourcefulness when it came to making necessary repairs. Hatpins, garters and shoemaker’s leather soles came in handy when dealing with clogged valves, rapidly worn engine parts and wooden brake fatigue. Bertha Benz’s 120-mile journey blazed a trail for other women drivers.

Early 20^th century women who were lucky enough to have the means eagerly learned to drive and some even owned their own cars. Automobiles offered a new freedom and promised adventure.

unknown driver, Circa 1909

The first successful transcontinental US drive was made by Dr. Horatio Jackson in 1903 in a Winton touring car. The first successful cross-country drive by a woman followed six years later by Mrs. Alice Huyler Ramsey. She drove a Maxwell DA. At the time, the Maxwell-Briscoe Company of Tarrytown, NY was the nation’s largest automobile company, and would go on to become the Chrysler Corporation in 1925. The company recognized the growing number and interest of women drivers and saw a cross-country drive as a good publicity tool. In 1909, they sponsored Ramsey, a twenty-two year old wife and mother from New Jersey, to drive from coast to coast.

Ramsey was accompanied by three other women, none of whom knew how to drive. It took them 59 days to complete their adventure. Inspired, Ramsey would make a second trip six months later, this time by herself and over the next seven decades made dozens of cross-country drives. The attention that the Maxwell company received prompted them to align with the women’s rights movement and the company pledged to hire equal numbers of men and women in its sales force. At a promotional reception in NYC they featured a woman assembling and disassembling a Maxwell engine, and the event was attended by well-known suffragettes including Elmira’s Crystal Eastman. (See a blog on Eastman here.)

Elmira featured heavily in the second woman’s quest to drive coast to coast. In 1910, twenty-six year old Miss Blanche Stuart Scott from Rochester, NY was sponsored by the Willys-Overland company to drive an Overland automobile nicknamed the Lady Overland. The Willys-Overland company was owned and operated by John Willys, a businessman from Elmira.

John North Willys had moved to Elmira from his hometown of Canandaigua and had been running a bicycle building and repair business. Seeing changes ahead, he opened a dealership called Southern Tier Motor Company, and one of the line of cars he sold was the Overland.

The Southern Tier Motor Company, Elmira. Cars are Willys-Overland,1916-1917

In 1908 supply issues interfered with Overland distribution, and Willys solved this problem by purchasing the struggling Indiana company. Over the next four years, Willys would lead the company to become second only to the Ford Motor Company in annual sales.

For Scott's 1910 drive from New York City to San Francisco, CA. she was accompanied by reporter Miss Gertrude Buffington Phillips who documented the tour, and the drive took sixty-eight days to complete. They arrived in San Francisco to great fanfare.

Clearly there was a viable market for selling cars to women. Willys-Overland advertising from the mid-teens through the mid-twenties targeted women drivers with images of independent women driving with other women or children as passengers. However, as it was for women’s voting rights, equality was hard fought and less than complete.

1919 Willy-Overland advertisement

Scott went on to operate other early machinery. Publicity from her drive across the country caught the eye of Hammondsport’s Glenn Curtiss. A pioneer in American motorcycling and aviation, Curtiss was looking to increase public awareness of the viability of powered flight. He agreed to give Scott flying lessons and there’s some question as to whether he really intended for her to fly.

Curtiss rigged up a plane for her to practice taxiing back and forth, but when the rigging slipped, she took off. On September 6^th, 1910 her plane lifted forty feet off the ground briefly before making a gentle landing. Today Scott is known for being the first US woman to fly a plane. To think that driving could lead to such adventures, I’m just glad that I don’t have to repair my own car, especially with hairpins and garters.

The Glenn Curtiss Museum displays a 1915 Willys-Overland owned by Blanche Stuart Scott. 

This Photo of a Dirigible Over Elmira is Fake!

by Erin Doane, Curator

“The Pageant of Decision” was a massive theatrical production that celebrated the Sesquicentennial of the Sullivan-Clinton Campaign.  On September 28, 1929, 2,000 local participants in Elmira performed the 17-act pageant on a half-mile wide outdoor stage on the slope of East Hill in front of nearly 75,000 spectators. The above photo from CCHS’s archive shows the Navy dirigible Los Angeles hovering over the pageant crowd. It is a wonderful, striking image. Too bad it’s fake.

The crowd shown is indeed gathered for the pageant in Elmira on September 28, but the Los Angeles was not there that Saturday afternoon. The massive airship, in fact, had flown over Elmira one week earlier on September 21. A photo that appeared in the Star-Gazette after the pageant show the exact same image (though a slightly wider view) without the dirigible.

Star-Gazette, September 30, 1929

The USS Los Angeles was a 658-foot-long rigid airship built in Germany in 1923-1924 as part of reparations after World War I. It was delivered to the U.S. Navy in 1924. It was primarily used as an observatory and experimental platform and as a training ship. In 1929, Congressman John Taber of Auburn arranged to have the dirigible fly from its base in Lakehurst, New Jersey up to Geneva on September 21 where it would circle the pageant being held there to commemorate the Sullivan-Clinton Campaign. (“The Pageant of Decision” was actually performed all across New York State in 1929.) So, the Los Angeles did appear at a pageant, just not at Elmira’s pageant. And it actually showed up early to the Geneva one, much to the disappointment of those in attendance.

The original plan was for the Los Angeles to leave Lakehurst on the morning of September 21, passing over Elmira around noon and arriving in Geneva in time to circle above their pageant, which began at 2:00pm. Instead, because of the weather conditions, the dirigible left New Jersey at 5:45 Friday evening, which changed its arrival time in Geneva to 7:30am on Saturday. The flight was non-stop, as there was no place for the airship to land except for in an emergency, so even though it circled the town for about half an hour, very few people there got to see it.

In Elmira, folks were also disappointed by the early passing of the massive airship, but it actually ended up passing over Elmira twice that day. At 5:40am, people who were awake and in the streets at that time could hear the dirigible’s motors droning as it passed over the city. The fog was so thick, however, that it was not visible. When Representative Gale H. Stalker of Elmira learned about the unexpectedly early flyover obscured by fog, he wired naval authorities to express his dissatisfaction. Navy officials then communicated with Lieutenant Commander Charles Rosendahl on the Los Angeles, and ordered him to return to Lakehurst by way of Elmira.

So, at noon on September 21, the Los Angeles sailed majestically over Elmira, bathed in sunlight. It lazily droned in from the northeast, cruised down the center of the city at an elevation of only about 1,000 feet, and then disappeared to the southeast. The original plan was for the dirigible to pass over the city at noon, so the only thing that really changed was the direction in which people saw it traveling. The newspapermen and cameramen of the Star-Gazette climbed onto the roof of their building to cover the story.

Photo taken from the roof of the Star-Gazette building 

Saturday, September 21, 1929. The towers are those of 

the First Presbyterian Church.

The Star-Gazette reported that when the airship passed overhead Elmira came to a standstill. “Husbands phoned their wives at home, binoculars and telescopes were brought forth, cameras were hastily adjusted and restaurants and offices were vacated and points of vantage were sought. Even automobiles were stopped in the streets, the drivers and passengers peering upward and hoping, no doubt, that no policeman would come along to spoil it by making them move on.” There was no waving of handkerchiefs or cheering, however, as everyone was too impressed to become vocal.

So, the USS Los Angeles did fly over Elmira and 75,000 people did gather the watch “The Pageant of Decision” in Elmira, but those two events did not happen at the same time or even on the same day. Why, then, do we have a photograph that indicates that they did? I, frankly, have no idea. Perhaps some photographically-talented trickster was just having a little fun back in the day, never expecting his or her creative image to become part of a museum’s collection. We will probably never know, but it is important to set the history straight.

When the Nazi flag flew over Harris Hill

By Andrea Rozengota, education volunteer

It was the summer of 1938, during the two-week annual National Soaring Competition, when a Nazi flag was seen flying over one of Chemung county’s Harris Hill cabins.  Though the war had not begun yet, this was still a strange and unsettling sight to many people.  Shortly after its appearance, a group of Elmirans took it upon themselves to confiscate the Nazi flag being flown above the cabin of German pilots, Peter Riedel and Alfred Bayer.  When the citizens were discovered later, they justified their actions, claiming they believed foreign flags should not be displayed without an accompanying American flag above them.  

Star-Gazette headline from the incident, 1938

 

Unlike the response you would imagine, incident of the Nazi flag was quickly dropped by both sides.  Chemung county was anxious at the possibility of hosting an international soaring event in 1939, and did not want an international incident to ruin their chances.  The Germans were also uninterested in pursuing the theft, partly because they wished to be invited back, but also because neither seemed to have a strong allegiance to the reigning Nazi party.  

Peter Riedel (center) and his ground crew. Courtesy of the National Soaring Museum.

1938 was not Peter Riedel’s first appearance in the national event, and though he was representing his home country, he understood the American’s growing aversion to the symbol. It must have come as a slight surprise however, since there had been little reaction to the swastika-adorned Sperber sailplane that Riedel flew in 1937.  But in 1938, not only had world politics grown more hostile, but Riedel was now officially a German State representative, as Air Attaché to the German Embassy in Washington D.C.  Riedel felt the growing sentiment, and willingly left down the flag, but also knew his new position as Air Attaché meant that there was no way he could fully remove himself from the Nazi government.  The German-owned sailplane he was flying would have to keep its swastika tail markings.

This was not the first time Harris Hill had hosted German pilots.  Germans, and German aircraft were a regular part of soaring in America.  Since the creation of the national contest in 1930, Germans had participated in the yearly events at Elmira.  In fact, Elmira was originally chosen as a soaring site by Wolfgang Klemperer, a German-American citizen who was very influential in early soaring in Germany and the United States.

Bayer & Riedel's sailplanes at Harris Hill, 1938. Courtesy of the National Soaring Museum.

The 1938 contest turned out to be a great success regardless of any background hostilities, with several records broken.  Despite some disgruntled participants and spectators, Peter Riedel, flying for the Aero Club of Germany, went on to place in just about every event.  One of his more significant feats was breaking the international distance record by flying from Harris Hill to Hoover Field, outside of Washington D.C., a 225-mile flight!  Another German Pilot, Alfred Bayer, (who did not have a swastika on his plane), was flying for the New York German Aviation Club placed well in the ranks, even after a road accident that greatly damaged his aircraft.  Peter Riedel accumulated the highest number of points and, therefore, won the contest.  But because he was not an American citizen, he could not be the official winner.  He did, however, go home with two trophies and $500 in prize money. 

When war broke out with Germany, Peter Riedel, along with over 31,000 other Germans still in the United States, were interned for questioning. Riedel was returned to Germany. He was reassigned as Air Attaché to Sweden, where he eventually worked as an informant for American forces.  He later returned to the United States.