76 MODEL AVIATION
D.B. Mathews
F l y i n g f o r F u n
909 N. Maize Rd., Townhouse 734, Wichita KS 67212
ANOTHER WAR STORY: Many years
ago I noticed that one of my dental
patients was wearing a cap inscribed,
“Pearl Harbor Survivor.” We chatted
about that at length, and he related a
story worth sharing with you.
Not all of the US Navy’s fleet
remained immobile and helpless the
morning of December 7, 1941. Several
ships got up enough steam to move away
from Battleship Row—most notably the
USS Nevada. Most of its crew was
ashore that peacetime Sunday morning,
but enough officers and ratings were
aboard to get steam up and move the
ship.
The gunnery crews of many of the
docked warships manned the antiaircraft
guns and shot down some Japanese
bombers. The USS Arizona, the USS
Oklahoma, and others were so badly
damaged in the initial surprise attack that
they were unable to defend themselves at
all.
The Nevada had been hit by a torpedo
that opened a large hole in its port side
below the two forward turrets. This
allowed a considerable amount of water
to enter the ship through the innermost
bulkheads.
The damaged Nevada got underway at
8:40—approximately a half hour after it
was torpedoed. Backing clear of its berth,
it began to steam down the channel
toward the navy yard. The slow-moving
battleship was an attractive target for
Japanese dive bombers, which hit and
An early 1940s issue of Fine Scale Modeler shows high-school
students building wooden identification models for the military. Allen Blame’s Hawk Models assembly schematic drawings.
Drawing sheet with Curtiss SOC-3 description, specifications. Bill of materials, callouts
don’t specify what wood to use. From Allen Blame collection.
nearly missed it repeatedly, opening up its
forecastle deck, causing more leaks in its
hull, and starting gasoline fires forward.
In serious trouble and in danger of
sinking and blocking the harbor’s channel,
the Nevada’s crew ran it aground on the
navy-yard side of the channel, just south of
Ford Island.
At the same moment in time, my
patient’s ship—the USS Avocet, a seaplane
tender—was also underway and was
following the Nevada out of the harbor.
While not exactly heavily armed, the
Avocet fired all of the antiaircraft arms it
had and was strafed by the Japanese as it
crawled toward open water.
After the Nevada went aground, it
twisted in the shallow waters and ended up
with its bow facing the harbor. With the
help of tugs, the Nevada backed across the
way and grounded, stern first, on the other
side of the channel. There it settled into
July 2003 77
relatively shallow water, where it
remained for more than two months. It was
the subject of the first of Pearl Harbor’s
many demanding salvage projects.
While all of the preceding was
happening, the Avocet managed to slip
between the Nevada and Hospital Point on
Ford Island. As they inched their way
through the shallow water they observed a
wet Army Air Force pilot (presumably of a
P-40) standing on a sandbar, waiting to be
picked up by a small boat.
My patient described his most vivid
memory of that terrible day: that stranded
pilot presented the Avocet’s crew with a
classic one-finger salute as it moved by
him. He obviously felt that the Avocet’s
antiaircraft gunners had shot him down
and was miffed at the proceedings.
Friend or Foe? Although it has never
been mentioned in the various movies
made about the Pearl Harbor attack,
friendly fire was bound to have been a
AMA museum display shows pack of printed material supplied
for each aircraft. Boxes prominently display Comet brand.
Brad Harrington received this certificate and “commission” for completing many identification models.
Templates have been used to cut outlines of parts. Fuselage
templates are shown in a display at the AMA museum.
problem that morning. Consider the flames,
smoke, noise, surprise, gut-wrenching fear,
and wild confusion. Can there be any doubt
that some damages were self-inflicted?
The gunners had to make split-second
decisions about whether airplanes were
Japanese or American when they popped
out of the shrouds of smoke or descended
straight at them.
To further complicate matters, the only
identification-training materials that had
been available were charts and manuals
with three-view silhouettes printed on
them. Those crews had never seen
Japanese aircraft, and even silhouettes of
some of the newer US aircraft may not
have been familiar. It instantly became
apparent that a major defect existed in the
US methods of teaching aircraft
identification to ground-to-air and air-to-air
gunners.
The program to provide identification
models to the armed forces started
December 8, 1941. Navy Commander
(later Admiral) Louis De Flores had just
returned from England, where he had
observed the British recognition program
which included the use of 1⁄72-scale model
airplanes.
He had seen that when the students
handled these three-dimensional models,
they could be placed at every possible
78 MODEL AVIATION
angle. Because the models were painted
black, features—not colors—were
emphasized as the keys for identification
between friend or foe.
In this emergency the Navy Bureau of
Aeronautics decided to call upon the
nation’s schools; they had instructors,
student personnel, tools, and facilities
needed for model-aircraft construction.
For the first time in many shops,
educational and production standards had
to be combined. The Model Aircraft
Project was launched.
In 22 months 800,000 youth in 6,000
schools participated. The Navy (and later
the Army) did not provide funding for the
purchase of materials and supplies. It
provided only the drawings and assembly
instructions; the local schools, students,
and teachers provided the materials.
A complete set of full-size templates
for each model to be produced was
provided along with a pictorial view, a
description of the airplane, names of the
parts, and a small three-view drawing.
Most of these three-views were drawn by
Robert Reder for the Comet Model
Airplane Company (who was later
president of Monogram Models).
Much of the technique used to create
these indentification models was familiar
to modelers of that era. They were similar
to the “solid” models we had been carving
for many years. A look through old
magazines reveals numerous firms
packaging and selling kits that contained
the templates, drawings, and blocks of
wood.
The principal difference between the
prewar and wartime “solid” models was
the use of hardwoods rather than balsa.
Basswood, poplar, and pine presented
peculiar challenges when carving and
sanding.
The use of band saws or jigsaws to cut
the outlines, draw knives, belt sanders,
razor planes, and an assortment of files
were essential for carving the shapes, and
that is the reason why most of the models
were fabricated in school woodworking
shops.
Later, Strombecker and Testors
produced commercial kits with pre-shaped
hardwood parts for the A-20, the B-17E,
the B-26, the B-29, and others as I have
mentioned in a previous column.
America’s youth needed little
prompting to participate in building model
airplanes for the war effort. It was a
chance to participate directly in the
struggle, much like collecting scrap metal,
old tires, and paper for drives by the
Scouts and others.
A letter from Brad Harris of
Rochester, New Hampshire, illustrates
that magical moment in time. He wrote:
“I started modeling in 1936 at the
tender age of 10 by building ten and
twenty five cent Megow and Comet
models. When I got into Junior High I
talked my woodworking instructor into
July 2003 81
letting me build my models while the other
guys had to build shoe shine boxes and
lamp holders.
“I was really in my glory when I got into
High School and signed up in
Woodworking to build Aircraft Recognition
models for the Armed Forces and Air Raid
Wardens. I built so many of these models
that I was awarded Honorary Captain in the
Navy before I graduated. I am still an active
modeler and an avid reader of Model
Aviation.
“Several other modelers of that era
responded with positive memories when I
asked for material over the years. For the
most part they remember successfully
completing models which were delivered to
the Military. They also recall a feeling of
great pride in being involved.
“My personal memories are those of a
ten year old who was invited to observe the
high schoolers carving these ID models. I
seem to recall very slow going that required
most of a semester to build one model, and
also terrible problems encountered in gluing
the parts together.
“Remember the only adhesives back
then were nitrocellulose (Leech, Ambroid,
Testors, etc.) which were not strong enough
for hardwood models. The other adhesive
was that furniture glue stuff that was heated
in a sticky can on top of the shop stove that
seemingly never set. Paint would have had
to be enamel that also set terribly slowly.”
A similar recollection came from Joe
Wagner.
“When I started high school in New
Castle PA I was put in charge of getting
modelers to construct these planes. That
was no doubt due to my being president of
the local model club.
“The whole program was a fiasco. For
one thing, hardly any US modelers were
used to working with hardwoods. For
another the degree of precision required
was way beyond the ability of most of us
youngsters. In the two years I worked in
this program, only about 3 or 4 finished
models were good enough to be accepted.
“I wonder who selected the airplanes to
model. We had fictional aircraft like the
‘Sento KI-001,’ ‘Baku Geki KI99,’ and the
‘Mitsubishi T.97 A.L.B.’ On the other hand
there was no Sunderland, Beaufighter, B-25,
P-47, or P-51, yet we had the Saro Lerwick.”
Perhaps some intermediate evaluation
lies closer to the truth. The handmadewooden-
model project was developed as an
emergency solution to the inability of the
few plastic molders around in 1942 to
overcome the production problems they
encountered in injection-molding these
identification models.
Next month I will take a look at the origins
of the plastic-model business as we know it
today. MA
Edition: Model Aviation - 2003/07
Page Numbers: 76,77,78,81
Edition: Model Aviation - 2003/07
Page Numbers: 76,77,78,81
76 MODEL AVIATION
D.B. Mathews
F l y i n g f o r F u n
909 N. Maize Rd., Townhouse 734, Wichita KS 67212
ANOTHER WAR STORY: Many years
ago I noticed that one of my dental
patients was wearing a cap inscribed,
“Pearl Harbor Survivor.” We chatted
about that at length, and he related a
story worth sharing with you.
Not all of the US Navy’s fleet
remained immobile and helpless the
morning of December 7, 1941. Several
ships got up enough steam to move away
from Battleship Row—most notably the
USS Nevada. Most of its crew was
ashore that peacetime Sunday morning,
but enough officers and ratings were
aboard to get steam up and move the
ship.
The gunnery crews of many of the
docked warships manned the antiaircraft
guns and shot down some Japanese
bombers. The USS Arizona, the USS
Oklahoma, and others were so badly
damaged in the initial surprise attack that
they were unable to defend themselves at
all.
The Nevada had been hit by a torpedo
that opened a large hole in its port side
below the two forward turrets. This
allowed a considerable amount of water
to enter the ship through the innermost
bulkheads.
The damaged Nevada got underway at
8:40—approximately a half hour after it
was torpedoed. Backing clear of its berth,
it began to steam down the channel
toward the navy yard. The slow-moving
battleship was an attractive target for
Japanese dive bombers, which hit and
An early 1940s issue of Fine Scale Modeler shows high-school
students building wooden identification models for the military. Allen Blame’s Hawk Models assembly schematic drawings.
Drawing sheet with Curtiss SOC-3 description, specifications. Bill of materials, callouts
don’t specify what wood to use. From Allen Blame collection.
nearly missed it repeatedly, opening up its
forecastle deck, causing more leaks in its
hull, and starting gasoline fires forward.
In serious trouble and in danger of
sinking and blocking the harbor’s channel,
the Nevada’s crew ran it aground on the
navy-yard side of the channel, just south of
Ford Island.
At the same moment in time, my
patient’s ship—the USS Avocet, a seaplane
tender—was also underway and was
following the Nevada out of the harbor.
While not exactly heavily armed, the
Avocet fired all of the antiaircraft arms it
had and was strafed by the Japanese as it
crawled toward open water.
After the Nevada went aground, it
twisted in the shallow waters and ended up
with its bow facing the harbor. With the
help of tugs, the Nevada backed across the
way and grounded, stern first, on the other
side of the channel. There it settled into
July 2003 77
relatively shallow water, where it
remained for more than two months. It was
the subject of the first of Pearl Harbor’s
many demanding salvage projects.
While all of the preceding was
happening, the Avocet managed to slip
between the Nevada and Hospital Point on
Ford Island. As they inched their way
through the shallow water they observed a
wet Army Air Force pilot (presumably of a
P-40) standing on a sandbar, waiting to be
picked up by a small boat.
My patient described his most vivid
memory of that terrible day: that stranded
pilot presented the Avocet’s crew with a
classic one-finger salute as it moved by
him. He obviously felt that the Avocet’s
antiaircraft gunners had shot him down
and was miffed at the proceedings.
Friend or Foe? Although it has never
been mentioned in the various movies
made about the Pearl Harbor attack,
friendly fire was bound to have been a
AMA museum display shows pack of printed material supplied
for each aircraft. Boxes prominently display Comet brand.
Brad Harrington received this certificate and “commission” for completing many identification models.
Templates have been used to cut outlines of parts. Fuselage
templates are shown in a display at the AMA museum.
problem that morning. Consider the flames,
smoke, noise, surprise, gut-wrenching fear,
and wild confusion. Can there be any doubt
that some damages were self-inflicted?
The gunners had to make split-second
decisions about whether airplanes were
Japanese or American when they popped
out of the shrouds of smoke or descended
straight at them.
To further complicate matters, the only
identification-training materials that had
been available were charts and manuals
with three-view silhouettes printed on
them. Those crews had never seen
Japanese aircraft, and even silhouettes of
some of the newer US aircraft may not
have been familiar. It instantly became
apparent that a major defect existed in the
US methods of teaching aircraft
identification to ground-to-air and air-to-air
gunners.
The program to provide identification
models to the armed forces started
December 8, 1941. Navy Commander
(later Admiral) Louis De Flores had just
returned from England, where he had
observed the British recognition program
which included the use of 1⁄72-scale model
airplanes.
He had seen that when the students
handled these three-dimensional models,
they could be placed at every possible
78 MODEL AVIATION
angle. Because the models were painted
black, features—not colors—were
emphasized as the keys for identification
between friend or foe.
In this emergency the Navy Bureau of
Aeronautics decided to call upon the
nation’s schools; they had instructors,
student personnel, tools, and facilities
needed for model-aircraft construction.
For the first time in many shops,
educational and production standards had
to be combined. The Model Aircraft
Project was launched.
In 22 months 800,000 youth in 6,000
schools participated. The Navy (and later
the Army) did not provide funding for the
purchase of materials and supplies. It
provided only the drawings and assembly
instructions; the local schools, students,
and teachers provided the materials.
A complete set of full-size templates
for each model to be produced was
provided along with a pictorial view, a
description of the airplane, names of the
parts, and a small three-view drawing.
Most of these three-views were drawn by
Robert Reder for the Comet Model
Airplane Company (who was later
president of Monogram Models).
Much of the technique used to create
these indentification models was familiar
to modelers of that era. They were similar
to the “solid” models we had been carving
for many years. A look through old
magazines reveals numerous firms
packaging and selling kits that contained
the templates, drawings, and blocks of
wood.
The principal difference between the
prewar and wartime “solid” models was
the use of hardwoods rather than balsa.
Basswood, poplar, and pine presented
peculiar challenges when carving and
sanding.
The use of band saws or jigsaws to cut
the outlines, draw knives, belt sanders,
razor planes, and an assortment of files
were essential for carving the shapes, and
that is the reason why most of the models
were fabricated in school woodworking
shops.
Later, Strombecker and Testors
produced commercial kits with pre-shaped
hardwood parts for the A-20, the B-17E,
the B-26, the B-29, and others as I have
mentioned in a previous column.
America’s youth needed little
prompting to participate in building model
airplanes for the war effort. It was a
chance to participate directly in the
struggle, much like collecting scrap metal,
old tires, and paper for drives by the
Scouts and others.
A letter from Brad Harris of
Rochester, New Hampshire, illustrates
that magical moment in time. He wrote:
“I started modeling in 1936 at the
tender age of 10 by building ten and
twenty five cent Megow and Comet
models. When I got into Junior High I
talked my woodworking instructor into
July 2003 81
letting me build my models while the other
guys had to build shoe shine boxes and
lamp holders.
“I was really in my glory when I got into
High School and signed up in
Woodworking to build Aircraft Recognition
models for the Armed Forces and Air Raid
Wardens. I built so many of these models
that I was awarded Honorary Captain in the
Navy before I graduated. I am still an active
modeler and an avid reader of Model
Aviation.
“Several other modelers of that era
responded with positive memories when I
asked for material over the years. For the
most part they remember successfully
completing models which were delivered to
the Military. They also recall a feeling of
great pride in being involved.
“My personal memories are those of a
ten year old who was invited to observe the
high schoolers carving these ID models. I
seem to recall very slow going that required
most of a semester to build one model, and
also terrible problems encountered in gluing
the parts together.
“Remember the only adhesives back
then were nitrocellulose (Leech, Ambroid,
Testors, etc.) which were not strong enough
for hardwood models. The other adhesive
was that furniture glue stuff that was heated
in a sticky can on top of the shop stove that
seemingly never set. Paint would have had
to be enamel that also set terribly slowly.”
A similar recollection came from Joe
Wagner.
“When I started high school in New
Castle PA I was put in charge of getting
modelers to construct these planes. That
was no doubt due to my being president of
the local model club.
“The whole program was a fiasco. For
one thing, hardly any US modelers were
used to working with hardwoods. For
another the degree of precision required
was way beyond the ability of most of us
youngsters. In the two years I worked in
this program, only about 3 or 4 finished
models were good enough to be accepted.
“I wonder who selected the airplanes to
model. We had fictional aircraft like the
‘Sento KI-001,’ ‘Baku Geki KI99,’ and the
‘Mitsubishi T.97 A.L.B.’ On the other hand
there was no Sunderland, Beaufighter, B-25,
P-47, or P-51, yet we had the Saro Lerwick.”
Perhaps some intermediate evaluation
lies closer to the truth. The handmadewooden-
model project was developed as an
emergency solution to the inability of the
few plastic molders around in 1942 to
overcome the production problems they
encountered in injection-molding these
identification models.
Next month I will take a look at the origins
of the plastic-model business as we know it
today. MA
Edition: Model Aviation - 2003/07
Page Numbers: 76,77,78,81
76 MODEL AVIATION
D.B. Mathews
F l y i n g f o r F u n
909 N. Maize Rd., Townhouse 734, Wichita KS 67212
ANOTHER WAR STORY: Many years
ago I noticed that one of my dental
patients was wearing a cap inscribed,
“Pearl Harbor Survivor.” We chatted
about that at length, and he related a
story worth sharing with you.
Not all of the US Navy’s fleet
remained immobile and helpless the
morning of December 7, 1941. Several
ships got up enough steam to move away
from Battleship Row—most notably the
USS Nevada. Most of its crew was
ashore that peacetime Sunday morning,
but enough officers and ratings were
aboard to get steam up and move the
ship.
The gunnery crews of many of the
docked warships manned the antiaircraft
guns and shot down some Japanese
bombers. The USS Arizona, the USS
Oklahoma, and others were so badly
damaged in the initial surprise attack that
they were unable to defend themselves at
all.
The Nevada had been hit by a torpedo
that opened a large hole in its port side
below the two forward turrets. This
allowed a considerable amount of water
to enter the ship through the innermost
bulkheads.
The damaged Nevada got underway at
8:40—approximately a half hour after it
was torpedoed. Backing clear of its berth,
it began to steam down the channel
toward the navy yard. The slow-moving
battleship was an attractive target for
Japanese dive bombers, which hit and
An early 1940s issue of Fine Scale Modeler shows high-school
students building wooden identification models for the military. Allen Blame’s Hawk Models assembly schematic drawings.
Drawing sheet with Curtiss SOC-3 description, specifications. Bill of materials, callouts
don’t specify what wood to use. From Allen Blame collection.
nearly missed it repeatedly, opening up its
forecastle deck, causing more leaks in its
hull, and starting gasoline fires forward.
In serious trouble and in danger of
sinking and blocking the harbor’s channel,
the Nevada’s crew ran it aground on the
navy-yard side of the channel, just south of
Ford Island.
At the same moment in time, my
patient’s ship—the USS Avocet, a seaplane
tender—was also underway and was
following the Nevada out of the harbor.
While not exactly heavily armed, the
Avocet fired all of the antiaircraft arms it
had and was strafed by the Japanese as it
crawled toward open water.
After the Nevada went aground, it
twisted in the shallow waters and ended up
with its bow facing the harbor. With the
help of tugs, the Nevada backed across the
way and grounded, stern first, on the other
side of the channel. There it settled into
July 2003 77
relatively shallow water, where it
remained for more than two months. It was
the subject of the first of Pearl Harbor’s
many demanding salvage projects.
While all of the preceding was
happening, the Avocet managed to slip
between the Nevada and Hospital Point on
Ford Island. As they inched their way
through the shallow water they observed a
wet Army Air Force pilot (presumably of a
P-40) standing on a sandbar, waiting to be
picked up by a small boat.
My patient described his most vivid
memory of that terrible day: that stranded
pilot presented the Avocet’s crew with a
classic one-finger salute as it moved by
him. He obviously felt that the Avocet’s
antiaircraft gunners had shot him down
and was miffed at the proceedings.
Friend or Foe? Although it has never
been mentioned in the various movies
made about the Pearl Harbor attack,
friendly fire was bound to have been a
AMA museum display shows pack of printed material supplied
for each aircraft. Boxes prominently display Comet brand.
Brad Harrington received this certificate and “commission” for completing many identification models.
Templates have been used to cut outlines of parts. Fuselage
templates are shown in a display at the AMA museum.
problem that morning. Consider the flames,
smoke, noise, surprise, gut-wrenching fear,
and wild confusion. Can there be any doubt
that some damages were self-inflicted?
The gunners had to make split-second
decisions about whether airplanes were
Japanese or American when they popped
out of the shrouds of smoke or descended
straight at them.
To further complicate matters, the only
identification-training materials that had
been available were charts and manuals
with three-view silhouettes printed on
them. Those crews had never seen
Japanese aircraft, and even silhouettes of
some of the newer US aircraft may not
have been familiar. It instantly became
apparent that a major defect existed in the
US methods of teaching aircraft
identification to ground-to-air and air-to-air
gunners.
The program to provide identification
models to the armed forces started
December 8, 1941. Navy Commander
(later Admiral) Louis De Flores had just
returned from England, where he had
observed the British recognition program
which included the use of 1⁄72-scale model
airplanes.
He had seen that when the students
handled these three-dimensional models,
they could be placed at every possible
78 MODEL AVIATION
angle. Because the models were painted
black, features—not colors—were
emphasized as the keys for identification
between friend or foe.
In this emergency the Navy Bureau of
Aeronautics decided to call upon the
nation’s schools; they had instructors,
student personnel, tools, and facilities
needed for model-aircraft construction.
For the first time in many shops,
educational and production standards had
to be combined. The Model Aircraft
Project was launched.
In 22 months 800,000 youth in 6,000
schools participated. The Navy (and later
the Army) did not provide funding for the
purchase of materials and supplies. It
provided only the drawings and assembly
instructions; the local schools, students,
and teachers provided the materials.
A complete set of full-size templates
for each model to be produced was
provided along with a pictorial view, a
description of the airplane, names of the
parts, and a small three-view drawing.
Most of these three-views were drawn by
Robert Reder for the Comet Model
Airplane Company (who was later
president of Monogram Models).
Much of the technique used to create
these indentification models was familiar
to modelers of that era. They were similar
to the “solid” models we had been carving
for many years. A look through old
magazines reveals numerous firms
packaging and selling kits that contained
the templates, drawings, and blocks of
wood.
The principal difference between the
prewar and wartime “solid” models was
the use of hardwoods rather than balsa.
Basswood, poplar, and pine presented
peculiar challenges when carving and
sanding.
The use of band saws or jigsaws to cut
the outlines, draw knives, belt sanders,
razor planes, and an assortment of files
were essential for carving the shapes, and
that is the reason why most of the models
were fabricated in school woodworking
shops.
Later, Strombecker and Testors
produced commercial kits with pre-shaped
hardwood parts for the A-20, the B-17E,
the B-26, the B-29, and others as I have
mentioned in a previous column.
America’s youth needed little
prompting to participate in building model
airplanes for the war effort. It was a
chance to participate directly in the
struggle, much like collecting scrap metal,
old tires, and paper for drives by the
Scouts and others.
A letter from Brad Harris of
Rochester, New Hampshire, illustrates
that magical moment in time. He wrote:
“I started modeling in 1936 at the
tender age of 10 by building ten and
twenty five cent Megow and Comet
models. When I got into Junior High I
talked my woodworking instructor into
July 2003 81
letting me build my models while the other
guys had to build shoe shine boxes and
lamp holders.
“I was really in my glory when I got into
High School and signed up in
Woodworking to build Aircraft Recognition
models for the Armed Forces and Air Raid
Wardens. I built so many of these models
that I was awarded Honorary Captain in the
Navy before I graduated. I am still an active
modeler and an avid reader of Model
Aviation.
“Several other modelers of that era
responded with positive memories when I
asked for material over the years. For the
most part they remember successfully
completing models which were delivered to
the Military. They also recall a feeling of
great pride in being involved.
“My personal memories are those of a
ten year old who was invited to observe the
high schoolers carving these ID models. I
seem to recall very slow going that required
most of a semester to build one model, and
also terrible problems encountered in gluing
the parts together.
“Remember the only adhesives back
then were nitrocellulose (Leech, Ambroid,
Testors, etc.) which were not strong enough
for hardwood models. The other adhesive
was that furniture glue stuff that was heated
in a sticky can on top of the shop stove that
seemingly never set. Paint would have had
to be enamel that also set terribly slowly.”
A similar recollection came from Joe
Wagner.
“When I started high school in New
Castle PA I was put in charge of getting
modelers to construct these planes. That
was no doubt due to my being president of
the local model club.
“The whole program was a fiasco. For
one thing, hardly any US modelers were
used to working with hardwoods. For
another the degree of precision required
was way beyond the ability of most of us
youngsters. In the two years I worked in
this program, only about 3 or 4 finished
models were good enough to be accepted.
“I wonder who selected the airplanes to
model. We had fictional aircraft like the
‘Sento KI-001,’ ‘Baku Geki KI99,’ and the
‘Mitsubishi T.97 A.L.B.’ On the other hand
there was no Sunderland, Beaufighter, B-25,
P-47, or P-51, yet we had the Saro Lerwick.”
Perhaps some intermediate evaluation
lies closer to the truth. The handmadewooden-
model project was developed as an
emergency solution to the inability of the
few plastic molders around in 1942 to
overcome the production problems they
encountered in injection-molding these
identification models.
Next month I will take a look at the origins
of the plastic-model business as we know it
today. MA
Edition: Model Aviation - 2003/07
Page Numbers: 76,77,78,81
76 MODEL AVIATION
D.B. Mathews
F l y i n g f o r F u n
909 N. Maize Rd., Townhouse 734, Wichita KS 67212
ANOTHER WAR STORY: Many years
ago I noticed that one of my dental
patients was wearing a cap inscribed,
“Pearl Harbor Survivor.” We chatted
about that at length, and he related a
story worth sharing with you.
Not all of the US Navy’s fleet
remained immobile and helpless the
morning of December 7, 1941. Several
ships got up enough steam to move away
from Battleship Row—most notably the
USS Nevada. Most of its crew was
ashore that peacetime Sunday morning,
but enough officers and ratings were
aboard to get steam up and move the
ship.
The gunnery crews of many of the
docked warships manned the antiaircraft
guns and shot down some Japanese
bombers. The USS Arizona, the USS
Oklahoma, and others were so badly
damaged in the initial surprise attack that
they were unable to defend themselves at
all.
The Nevada had been hit by a torpedo
that opened a large hole in its port side
below the two forward turrets. This
allowed a considerable amount of water
to enter the ship through the innermost
bulkheads.
The damaged Nevada got underway at
8:40—approximately a half hour after it
was torpedoed. Backing clear of its berth,
it began to steam down the channel
toward the navy yard. The slow-moving
battleship was an attractive target for
Japanese dive bombers, which hit and
An early 1940s issue of Fine Scale Modeler shows high-school
students building wooden identification models for the military. Allen Blame’s Hawk Models assembly schematic drawings.
Drawing sheet with Curtiss SOC-3 description, specifications. Bill of materials, callouts
don’t specify what wood to use. From Allen Blame collection.
nearly missed it repeatedly, opening up its
forecastle deck, causing more leaks in its
hull, and starting gasoline fires forward.
In serious trouble and in danger of
sinking and blocking the harbor’s channel,
the Nevada’s crew ran it aground on the
navy-yard side of the channel, just south of
Ford Island.
At the same moment in time, my
patient’s ship—the USS Avocet, a seaplane
tender—was also underway and was
following the Nevada out of the harbor.
While not exactly heavily armed, the
Avocet fired all of the antiaircraft arms it
had and was strafed by the Japanese as it
crawled toward open water.
After the Nevada went aground, it
twisted in the shallow waters and ended up
with its bow facing the harbor. With the
help of tugs, the Nevada backed across the
way and grounded, stern first, on the other
side of the channel. There it settled into
July 2003 77
relatively shallow water, where it
remained for more than two months. It was
the subject of the first of Pearl Harbor’s
many demanding salvage projects.
While all of the preceding was
happening, the Avocet managed to slip
between the Nevada and Hospital Point on
Ford Island. As they inched their way
through the shallow water they observed a
wet Army Air Force pilot (presumably of a
P-40) standing on a sandbar, waiting to be
picked up by a small boat.
My patient described his most vivid
memory of that terrible day: that stranded
pilot presented the Avocet’s crew with a
classic one-finger salute as it moved by
him. He obviously felt that the Avocet’s
antiaircraft gunners had shot him down
and was miffed at the proceedings.
Friend or Foe? Although it has never
been mentioned in the various movies
made about the Pearl Harbor attack,
friendly fire was bound to have been a
AMA museum display shows pack of printed material supplied
for each aircraft. Boxes prominently display Comet brand.
Brad Harrington received this certificate and “commission” for completing many identification models.
Templates have been used to cut outlines of parts. Fuselage
templates are shown in a display at the AMA museum.
problem that morning. Consider the flames,
smoke, noise, surprise, gut-wrenching fear,
and wild confusion. Can there be any doubt
that some damages were self-inflicted?
The gunners had to make split-second
decisions about whether airplanes were
Japanese or American when they popped
out of the shrouds of smoke or descended
straight at them.
To further complicate matters, the only
identification-training materials that had
been available were charts and manuals
with three-view silhouettes printed on
them. Those crews had never seen
Japanese aircraft, and even silhouettes of
some of the newer US aircraft may not
have been familiar. It instantly became
apparent that a major defect existed in the
US methods of teaching aircraft
identification to ground-to-air and air-to-air
gunners.
The program to provide identification
models to the armed forces started
December 8, 1941. Navy Commander
(later Admiral) Louis De Flores had just
returned from England, where he had
observed the British recognition program
which included the use of 1⁄72-scale model
airplanes.
He had seen that when the students
handled these three-dimensional models,
they could be placed at every possible
78 MODEL AVIATION
angle. Because the models were painted
black, features—not colors—were
emphasized as the keys for identification
between friend or foe.
In this emergency the Navy Bureau of
Aeronautics decided to call upon the
nation’s schools; they had instructors,
student personnel, tools, and facilities
needed for model-aircraft construction.
For the first time in many shops,
educational and production standards had
to be combined. The Model Aircraft
Project was launched.
In 22 months 800,000 youth in 6,000
schools participated. The Navy (and later
the Army) did not provide funding for the
purchase of materials and supplies. It
provided only the drawings and assembly
instructions; the local schools, students,
and teachers provided the materials.
A complete set of full-size templates
for each model to be produced was
provided along with a pictorial view, a
description of the airplane, names of the
parts, and a small three-view drawing.
Most of these three-views were drawn by
Robert Reder for the Comet Model
Airplane Company (who was later
president of Monogram Models).
Much of the technique used to create
these indentification models was familiar
to modelers of that era. They were similar
to the “solid” models we had been carving
for many years. A look through old
magazines reveals numerous firms
packaging and selling kits that contained
the templates, drawings, and blocks of
wood.
The principal difference between the
prewar and wartime “solid” models was
the use of hardwoods rather than balsa.
Basswood, poplar, and pine presented
peculiar challenges when carving and
sanding.
The use of band saws or jigsaws to cut
the outlines, draw knives, belt sanders,
razor planes, and an assortment of files
were essential for carving the shapes, and
that is the reason why most of the models
were fabricated in school woodworking
shops.
Later, Strombecker and Testors
produced commercial kits with pre-shaped
hardwood parts for the A-20, the B-17E,
the B-26, the B-29, and others as I have
mentioned in a previous column.
America’s youth needed little
prompting to participate in building model
airplanes for the war effort. It was a
chance to participate directly in the
struggle, much like collecting scrap metal,
old tires, and paper for drives by the
Scouts and others.
A letter from Brad Harris of
Rochester, New Hampshire, illustrates
that magical moment in time. He wrote:
“I started modeling in 1936 at the
tender age of 10 by building ten and
twenty five cent Megow and Comet
models. When I got into Junior High I
talked my woodworking instructor into
July 2003 81
letting me build my models while the other
guys had to build shoe shine boxes and
lamp holders.
“I was really in my glory when I got into
High School and signed up in
Woodworking to build Aircraft Recognition
models for the Armed Forces and Air Raid
Wardens. I built so many of these models
that I was awarded Honorary Captain in the
Navy before I graduated. I am still an active
modeler and an avid reader of Model
Aviation.
“Several other modelers of that era
responded with positive memories when I
asked for material over the years. For the
most part they remember successfully
completing models which were delivered to
the Military. They also recall a feeling of
great pride in being involved.
“My personal memories are those of a
ten year old who was invited to observe the
high schoolers carving these ID models. I
seem to recall very slow going that required
most of a semester to build one model, and
also terrible problems encountered in gluing
the parts together.
“Remember the only adhesives back
then were nitrocellulose (Leech, Ambroid,
Testors, etc.) which were not strong enough
for hardwood models. The other adhesive
was that furniture glue stuff that was heated
in a sticky can on top of the shop stove that
seemingly never set. Paint would have had
to be enamel that also set terribly slowly.”
A similar recollection came from Joe
Wagner.
“When I started high school in New
Castle PA I was put in charge of getting
modelers to construct these planes. That
was no doubt due to my being president of
the local model club.
“The whole program was a fiasco. For
one thing, hardly any US modelers were
used to working with hardwoods. For
another the degree of precision required
was way beyond the ability of most of us
youngsters. In the two years I worked in
this program, only about 3 or 4 finished
models were good enough to be accepted.
“I wonder who selected the airplanes to
model. We had fictional aircraft like the
‘Sento KI-001,’ ‘Baku Geki KI99,’ and the
‘Mitsubishi T.97 A.L.B.’ On the other hand
there was no Sunderland, Beaufighter, B-25,
P-47, or P-51, yet we had the Saro Lerwick.”
Perhaps some intermediate evaluation
lies closer to the truth. The handmadewooden-
model project was developed as an
emergency solution to the inability of the
few plastic molders around in 1942 to
overcome the production problems they
encountered in injection-molding these
identification models.
Next month I will take a look at the origins
of the plastic-model business as we know it
today. MA