It Hasn't Always Been So EAsy
Pilots of today have it way too easy, especially when it comes to getting the
engine started. Back when I first soloed, only a few of the really nice
airplanes had electric starters and the rest had to be cranked by hand, usually
by pulling the prop through. My first half hour of instruction was in how to
hand crank an airplane. The little 65hp engine on Cubs and other light airplanes
of the day was easy but as the size of the engine increased, so did the
difficulty in getting one started.
Today the electric starter is so commonplace that perhaps one out of every fifty
pilots has ever called out "Contact" gave a push on the spinner to be sure the
pilot was holding the brakes and pulled the prop through to start the engine.
They are no more complicated than the average car; put in the keys, turn them
all the way to the right and let off when the engine fires.
The big change came during WW-II when a million pilots came out of the military
where they had become accustomed to the whine of an electric starter. That only
happened after they graduated from primary training and moved into the larger
airplanes. None of the primary trainers had electric starters; in fact, few of
them even had a generator, battery or lights. They all had a socket on the left
side of the nose where a crank big enough for two people to get hold was
inserted and ground crew members would crank the engine. In some cases, the
crank turned the engine directly but most had what was known as an inertia
starter. That was one where the person (or people if they were available) on the
crank got a flywheel spinning as fast as they could and then pulled a "T" handle
to engage it. The inertia of the flywheel would spin the engine five or six
revolutions during which the pilot was supposed to get it running, which was no
small thing to accomplish. It was the custom that if the student pilot failed to
get the engine running in two tries, they had to get out and man the crank
themselves.
Probably the nicest looking primary trainer was the Fairchild PT-19 which had
wood wings, a fabric covered steel tube fuselage and a sleek, long nose covering
the inverted six cylinder, 185hp Ranger engine. As the war progressed, Fairchild
was able to turn out airplanes faster than Ranger could produce the engines so
some of the later versions were fitted with a seven cylinder radial engine of
220hp and designated as PT-23s. In comparison, the PT-23 with the big, uncowled
round engine was truly butt ugly up next to it's sleek cousin with a Ranger
engine. Even with something like 40 more horsepower, it was heavier and with all
that extra drag, a full 10mph slower.
The War Assets Administration began selling thousands of surplus aircraft to the
civilian market and naturally, when there is a surplus of anything, the price
goes down. Flying schools teaching under the GI Bill, began to snatch up the
PT-19s for trainers while the ugly cousin PT-23 went begging. I bought one for
$100 in 1947, during my last year in high school.
At first, I could get one of my buddies to crank it in exchange for a ride in
the back seat, which during cool weather wasn't nearly as much fun as they had
expected. For some reason, when the big engine was installed, it changed the
slipstream to where it tumbled down into the rear cockpit, forward through the
fuselage and out through the front cockpit. The ship was flown from the front
seat and if you didn't stuff your pant legs in your boots, they would be shoved
up to your crotch in a few minutes.
It was possible for one person to get the engine started but it was a rather
complicated operation. First, I need to describe the cockpit. On the left side
just below the level of the coping was the throttle and mixture control. Forward
of that on the instrument panel was the ignition switches with Off, Left, Right
and Both positions. Just below that was the primer pump which pumped raw
gasoline into the intake pipes of the top four cylinders for starting. One had
to prime the engine to get it started because the intake pipes from the
carburetor to the cylinders were about three feet long and it took several
revolutions to suck the mixture from the carburetor to where it would fire in
all cylinders.
Further down was the fuel valve with Off, Left, Right and Both positions. Then
down below the seat on the left was a handle which operated the wobble pump,
called that because you pumped the handle up and down to pump gas from the wing
tanks up to the engine where the engine driven pump would take over once the
engine was running. As soon as the engine was shut down, gravity would carry the
fuel in the lines back down into the wing tanks.
The normal procedure for starting the engine while the ship was in the military
was for the pilot to get in the front seat and fastened his belts, then make
sure the ignition switches were off so the ground crew could pull the prop
through about half a dozen revolutions to purge any oil that had seeped into the
lower cylinders while the engine was shut down.
Before the crank was inserted, the pilot would place the fuel selector in the
Both tanks position, move the mixture forward to full rich, the throttle open
about half an inch and operate the wobble pump till the fuel pressure showed
5psi. Then he would call out "Contact and Brakes" to indicate that the ignition
was on and he was holding the brakes so the ship could not move, then turn the
ignition to Both Magnetos and give the primer two full strokes of prime. He
would have to continue to operate the wobble pump to keep the pressure up.
The ground crewman would insert the crank and begin to crank the starter
flywheel up to a high scream. As soon as he had the flywheel up to speed, he
would stop cranking and pull the T handle to engage the starter and the engine
would turn over. If everything had been done properly, about the second
revolution the pilot would hear Brrt Brrt as two cylinders fired and a second or
so later, the other two at which time he would give the primer another shot so
there would be fuel the next revolution to keep it running. He had to keep the
engine spinning by using the primer until sufficient fuel had been sucked from
the carburetor to take over with a fart of blue smoke as the lower three
cylinders joined in. The throttle had to be pulled back to idle the instant full
power came on. The ground crew would return the crank to where it was stowed in
the baggage compartment under a door behind the rear cockpit and pull the wheel
chocks so he could taxi away.
When I wanted to go flying by myself, it was a bit more involved. I'd have to
stand on the wing beside the cockpit where I could reach in with my right hand
to set the controls, work the wobble pump and operate the primer. I could reach
the crank with my left hand but using only one hand on the crank made it
impossible to get enough speed for more than two revolutions on the engine.
Getting it started on the first try wasn't always successful and I often
wondered if it was really worth the effort, but at 18, I loved to fly my
airplane and would do just about anything to get in the air.
It must have been a sight to behold with all the cranking, pumping, priming and
throttle adjusting it took to get that big, round engine firing on all seven
cylinders. Once it was running smoothly, I still had to step off the trailing
edge of the wing and stow the crank behind the rear cockpit. I used pieces of 2
by 4 as wheel chocks and would just add power and taxi over them.

The military surplus Fairchild PT-23 I bought during my last
year in high school.
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