THE AVIATION FATALITY.

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 19 March 1926, Page 4

THE AVIATION FATALITY.

There is something spectacular in hurtling to death from the clouds. Something unusual, too. And, because the unusual and the spectacular make a deeper and more lasting impression on the public mind than do the events of the daily, round, the first effect of the lamentable aeroplane crash at Christchurch may be to upset the balance of popular reason and create undue depression. There are people who regard aviation as a “ dangerous ’ ’ enterprise; and an accident of this kind gives them opportunity for much shaking of the head and murmuring, ‘‘l told you so.” AvS a matter of fact, danger —which is relative only —is present everywhere. People are killed by being thrown from horses, by falling off bicycles, sometimes by falling down stairs. And the recent experience of New Zealand shows that it is much more dangerous to attempt to drive a motor vehicle over a railway crossing than to make an aeroplane ascent. The use of any form of mechanical transport increases the element of danger; but aviation has reached a stage now when it can be lifted out of the earlier classification as a “dangerous” calling and ranked as no more risky than motor-cycle racing—and of considerably greater benefit to mankind. For the most part, air accidents are the outcome not of ordinary , routine flying, but of “stunting.” Each of the fatal crashes of machines from the Sockburn ’drome has been brought about by this trick flying—the first when a strut gave way and*a wing crumpled; this one, none knows how. Mishaps from such causes cannot be charged against the account of general aviation. Stunt flying by capable pilots is countenanced —and possibly encouraged —by the authorities, for the very simple reason that the primary purpose of the training given in New Zealand is to equip men for war service; and the .more unexpected and daring a pilot’s methods in war, the greater his efficiency. But it seems plain that sufficient attention is not given to the injunction of the officers in charge that airmen should play for .safety by stunting always at an altitude which will give them a reasonable hope •'of correcting any error. For in that one respect aviation is safer than ordinary motoring: The motorist meets death, when it comes, face to face; the airman ’s doom waits so many thousand feet below him, and he has ;a- limited number of seconds in which to play a last desperate hand with Fate. Possibly had Captain Horrell kept a higher altitude, he and his companions might be alive and unhurt to-day. One aspect of the crash, however, does call for serious reflection, if not for protest. The fallen ’plane was responsible for the death of two men and for very serious hurt to ,a third; but, had it come to earth a matter of only a few feet from where it did, the death roll might easily have been one of the longest and most pathetic in the history of New Zealand. Sixty orphan children were, seated at their evening meal in the building nearest to the actual spot of the crash. If .airmen owe a duty, to themselves not to stunt at low altitudes, do they not owe a greater duty to the community not to indulge their trick skill above settled areas? Periodically, residents in several of the Christchurch suburbs complain petulantly of their morning slumbers being disturbed by the drone of aeroplane engines. If loss of beauty sleep f were the only damage suffered by those over whose heads the bird-men go up to welcome the dawn, their protest would merit no great consideration. Nor is there more than the most slender danger otherwise so long as “straight” flying is the rule. But for a pilot to stunt over closely populated city or suburban districts is to imperil the lives of scores of his fellow-beings. That practice ought not to be allowed; and it is to be hoped that the narrow escape of the orphanage children on this occasion may result in a prompt and absolute prohibition by the Defence Department.