Word: peasouper
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...soon Balbo's squadron might reach the U. S., once it started, even he would not predict. Given fair weather all the way it could make the seven jumps in a week or ten days. But peasoup fogs boil up around Labrador, and General Balbo has flatly stated that he will turn back rather than foolishly risk a ship. Yet, if he decides to go ahead, he has no patience with a crew which fails to keep its plane where it belongs. His orders: "Arrive with the plane or don't arrive...
...Boeing after another came down. Some found North Island; others reached Lindbergh Field across the bay; some landed on Army's Rockwell Field. One was demolished, one burned, several nosed over. No pilot was hurt. Meanwhile the two Corsairs continued to mill about in the peasoup. The only nearby field not fog-shrouded, an unused port near Camp Kearny, was hastily floodlit by the headlights of hundreds of volunteer motorists, but the Corsair pilots could not know about that...
...peasoup fog blew in over New Jersey one day last week, just after Pilot Albert Vale and his wife had taken off from Preakness, homeward bound to Philadelphia. The mist enveloped them. It was impossible to go on, too late to turn back. They would make for the field at Paterson nearby. Cautiously Pilot Vale flew as low as he dared, straining for the welcome sight of wind-sock or hangar-roof. After a nerve-wrenching period of groping his heart leapt. There on the ground was a plane! Pilot Vale carefully swung around into the wind, put his ship...
...Japan for a nonstop flight to Tacoma, Wash. Twenty-five hours later they were down again at Shiriyazaki, about 40 mi. from the starting point. Reports were meagre, but it was known that the City of Tacoma, an Emsco monoplane, had been in the thick of headwinds, rain and peasoup fog in its course over the Kuriles Islands. One despatch indicated that the plane was forced back by a broken exhaust pipe...
Goodwill Tour. In the course of a tour of 100 smalltown Exchange Clubs, to demonstrate the dependability of aviation for passenger travel, Frank Goldsborough, 19, son of the late Brice Goldsborough,* took off from Cleveland for Keene, N. H. In the Green Mountains, he plowed into a peasoup fog. Unable to climb over it, he dove his Fleet biplane to 2,000 ft., crashed into the treetops near Bennington, Vt. Painfully injured. Goldsborough's companion, Donald Mockler, publicity-man for Richfield Oil Corp. tried to lift the wreckage that pinned Goldsborough, then stumbled through forest and swamp for five hours...
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