I
hope the grieving families of the 15 dead recovered from the ocean
found some comfort in knowing that while awaiting burial their loved
ones rested in peace in the dark little chapel of the fortress Chiesa
di San Giacomo Maggiore, treated with reverence and honor. Except
they were not left at peace. They could not be for the sake of the living. Each evening a handful of bodies were
removed and carried to the hospital in Portoferrai on Elba's north
shore.
Awaiting them there, scalpel in hand, was Antonio Fornari,
the Professor of Pathology at Pisa University. It was Professor
Fornari's job to learn from the dead, to discover what exactly had
killed those privileged enough to have flown on the wonder of the
modern world, the de Havilland Comet.
What
Professor Fornari learned from the autopsies was that none of the
bodies recovered from the sea had drown. None had either water nor
smoke in their lungs. None had suffered shrapnel wounds. All 15 had
ruptured lungs. Most also had suffered skull fractures, concurrent
with their deaths. Professor Fornari was certain the combination of
these two injuries were the primary cause of death in all cases. And
he suspected the cause was an explosive decompression. But aviation
medicine was beyond his training.
However,
he did observe that all the victims had also suffered broken arms and
legs. One body even had a leg entirely ripped off. But those
injuries had been suffered postmortem. More, all of the victims had
their clothing disturbed. Many were almost naked. One had only lost a
shoe. And although none showed any signs of having been exposed to a
fire, most bore marks similar to scalding on their backs. Three also
had scalding marks on their face. One corpse had scalding marks on
their chest and abdomen as well. In the end the Professor was unclear
what this all meant.
But after each autopsy, the body was made as
presentable as possible and placed in a coffin before being returned
to the chapel, for eventual delivery by British Overseas Airways
Corporation and then to their families.
The
next question was how to get the 70 to 80% of the Comet Yoke Peter,
presently sitting on a barge in Porto Azzurro back to the Royal
Aircraft Establishment at Farborough - about 40 miles west southwest
of London. By ship it might take months.
However there was one
aircraft in 1954 which was capable of carrying the wreckage from
Italy directly to England; the American built Fairchild C-119 (above), popularly known as the “Flying Box Car”. It's distinctive twin
boom tail allowed easy loading and off loading from its 10 foot by 8
foot cargo hold. And it could carry a ton and a half. The United
States Air Force readily agreed to provide a “Box Car” for the
transport flights.
In
the meantime, Arnold Hall, Director of the Royal Aircraft
Establishment, wanted to confirm Professor Fornari's suspicion about
the rapid decompression. A model of the Comet's fuselage was
constructed at Farnborough. Dummies sat in for the passengers.
Then,
as film camera's rolled, the fuselage was pumped full of air until
the container burst. In the explosive decompression the dummies were thrown forward into the back of
the seat in front of them, or slammed into the ceiling. This
confirmed Professor Fornari 's findings.
As
the bits and pieces of Yoke Peter arrived in Farnborough (above), some new
discoveries were made.
Shreds of the cabin carpet were found tangled
in the interior of Yoke Peter's tail (above). A rear fuselage panel bore the
distinct imprint of a coin from some passenger's pocket. And paint
smears on the rear fuselage had been left by the passenger seats.
These were all more evidence of an explosive decompression. But what
had caused it? A bomb? Or had one of the Ghost engines exploded,
ripping apart the pressurized cabin?
Clearly the fuselage had come
apart in mid-air, but where had the destruction begun? Workers at
Farnborough began to reassembled the skin of Yoke Peter on a wire
frame. It was a technique which would be used on many future aircraft
losses.
Those
most closely associated with the Comet were stunned by the accidents,
and the groundings – or at least they later claimed to be. With their future careers clearly tied to the success of the Comet, BOAC
Captain, R. Clifford “Cliff” Alabaster would later admit,
“Initially, we didn’t think it could be mechanical breakup. We
had every confidence in the airplane.” And Captain Ernest “Rod”
Rodley agreed. “It was a perfect airplane as far as we were
concerned. We were absolutely puzzled by the problems.” And a
generation of pilots matured in the shadow of RAF Bomber Command, who
endured a 46% death rate from 1939 through 1945, would reflexively follow orders even when common sense said to do so was suicide.
The
Ministry of Transport and Civil Aviation, Mr A. T. Lennox-Boyd (above, left), had
so far resisted pulling the Comet's Air worthiness certificate, in part because de Havilland and BOAC as well as Air France and the South African Air Service ordered all Comets returned to London without passengers, and at reduced
speeds and altitudes. But Lennox-Boyd did seek the opinion of the
Air Registration Board. This group had been formed in 1937, and was
made up of 4 representatives of the airlines 4 representatives of
insurance firms, one professional pilot and a representative of the
general public, the last two appointed by the Secretary of State.
The pilot on the board was Peter Duffrey (above), and as he recalled, “We
had a series of meetings at Heathrow. They were quite sure they'd
covered what was going on.”
The
board considered the possibility of sabotage, and recommended
increasing security around the jets. In case one of the Ghost
engine's turbines had exploded, they proposed putting a sheet of
steel between it and the pressurized cabin. They recommended
installing weather radar in future Comets, so thunderstorms could be
avoided.
They recommended modifications to the wings, to increase
lift at low speeds. They even considered the possibility of a failure
of the pressurized cabin, but the extensive mathematical
calculations by the de Havilland engineers, and the generous margins
for safety used, convinced the board to reject this as a possibility.
In all, 60 modifications were recommended.
The
financial pressures after 10 weeks were tremendous. Both de Havilland
and BOAC were hemorrhaging money. Salaries of pilots, mechanics, ground
crews and support staff continued, while payments on loans taken out to build
the Comet continued to pile up. And British technical
capabilities were now being openly questioned around the world. Because of the bad publicity, future sales were slipping away.
As the editor of one British
aviation magazine showed, it was a situation ripe for justification. “The positive cause of the accident
may never be found," he reasoned, "though every effort will be made to do so. The
results of the public inquiry will undoubtedly be interesting, but
they are not likely to be conclusive...To this extent one agrees with
the more vigorous shouts from the Press. Now that we have done
everything that the technicians consider necessary to forestall
trouble in the future – Let us get the Comet flying again!”
Pilot
Peter Duffrey (above) explained, “I voted against, because I felt the
modifications had not adequately discovered the reason for the
explosion.” It did not matter. By a single vote the board
recommend to release the Comets.
So, on 5 March, 1954 - 54 days
after the sudden and violent deaths of the passengers and crew of
Yoke Peter - Air Chief Marshal Sir Frederick Bowhill (above), writing as if
the board vote had been unanimous, told his Minster that
while, “.... no cause has yet been found that would satisfactorily
account for the Elba disaster...everything humanly possible has been
done to ensure that the desired standard of safety shall be
maintained. This being so. the Board....recommends that Comet
aircraft should return to normal operational use...”
All recommended modifications were made as quickly as possible. Perhaps too quickly.
And three weeks later, on 23 March 1954, the first Comet, with a full
load of enthusiastic paying passengers, lifted off from London. Sir Miles Thomas, Chairman of the British Overseas Airways Corporation, explained, "We
obviously wouldn't be flying the Comet with passengers if we weren't
satisfied conditions were suitable."
And
two weeks later, on Thursday, 8 April, 1954, Comet Yoke Yoke,
carrying 14 passengers and 7 crew members, disappeared 25 minutes
after taking off from Rome. Decades later, Peter Duffrey would
admit, “I still do not forgive those who restarted the services...” The board members had been gambling with the lives of the crew and passengers. And as Duffrey noted, "I was one of the chits."
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