Sometimes There's A Man: Remembering Chuck Yeager
On December 7th, 2020, Chuck Yeager passed away at the age of 97. With the COVID pandemic raging and the presidential election results in turmoil, his departure did not receive the nationwide attention that was merited. When I heard the news, I was saddened that a true American hero was gone - and without much fanfare.
When leading tours inside the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum, there are two story locations I most enjoy. The first is standing beside the Wright flyer and sharing how two Ohio bicycle makers became first in flight. The second is on the upper level of Boeing Hall, looking across to the Bell X-1 (a striking aircraft that resembles an orange bullet) and the tale of how Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier. Although his plane is impressive, Yaegar’s feat of daring is what carries real impact.
Brigadier General Charles Elwood Yeager
As The Big Lebowski tells us, “Sometimes there’s a man, well, he’s the man for his time and place.” That’s Yeager - the very definition of American manhood; a rugged, whip-smart, patriotic, devoted, courageous fighter pilot who rose from humble beginnings in rural West Virginia to enlist as a teenage private in the US Army Air Forces (USAAF) at the outbreak of WWII. Before the war’s end, Yeager - barely into his 20s - would earn his wings and become an ace pilot by downing 5 (five) German aircraft in a single mission. He would amass 11.5 air-to-air combat victories in total. Eventually rising to the rank of Brigadier General, Yeager also flew missions during Korea & Vietnam. His name became immortalized, however, for his interwar exploits as a test pilot.
The moment the Bell X-1 was released (center, right).
On October 14th, 1947 Yeager would make history in the Bell X-1 experimental aircraft - a plane he nicknamed the Glamorous Glennis after his beloved wife. His mission that day was to achieve supersonic flight. Although Yeager’s role was pivotal, he was further surrounded by a team of seasoned professionals, skilled support staff and chase pilots. Rather than lifting off from a runway, Yeager and the Bell X-1 were drop launched from the belly of a B-29 bomber at 25,000 feet. As the B-29 climbed to launch altitude, Yeager descended into the unpressurized bomb bay - the atmosphere of which had dropped to sub zero temperatures during the ascent. Wearing only his flight suit and a leather jacket, Yeager shimmied into the X-1 aircraft’s tiny hatch using a retractable ladder. He would need assistance sealing the hatch door because two days prior he suffered a pair of broken ribs in a riding accident (an event he kept quiet for fear that his superiors would scratch him from the flight).
In addition to Yeager, the X-1 contained 3,000 pounds of liquid-oxygen and ethyl-alcohol fuel which (hopefully) would propel pilot & aircraft past the sound barrier. At the appointed moment, the release lever was pulled and the X-1 fell free. Yeager, now flying independently, pulled the X-1’s nose up and climbed even further to 42,000 feet. He then punched the gas and within moments the peaceful sky over the Mojave Desert was shattered by the sound of a sonic boom. The Glamorous Glennis had traveled at 700 mph (Mach 1.06). Mission accomplished. Yeager would later describe the scene,
Leveling off at 42,000 feet, I had thirty percent of my fuel, so I turned on rocket chamber three and immediately reached .96 Mach. I noticed that the faster I got, the smoother the ride. Suddenly the Mach needle began to fluctuate. It went up to .965 Mach – then tipped right off the scale … We were flying supersonic. And it was as smooth as a baby’s bottom; Grandma could be sitting up there sipping lemonade.
Yeager and his team would continue to push the envelope and set new records in subsequent flights. As the Smithsonian tells us, the X-1:
…flew a total of 78 times, and on March 26, 1948, with Yeager at the controls, it attained a speed of 1,540 kilometers (957 miles) per hour, Mach 1.45, at an altitude of 21,900 meters (71,900 feet). This was the highest velocity and altitude reached by a manned airplane up to that time.
Today, his plane hangs in the Smithsonian and Yeager stands (rightfully) in American memory as one of our greatest heroes.
Yeager’s Bell X-1 hangs in the Smithsonian Museum of Air & Space in Washington, DC.
A number of years ago, my father was at a restaurant and looked over to see Chuck Yeager seated at a neighboring table. “Hey, that’s Chuck Yeager!” he observed. Now Chuck Yeager belongs to the ages and his face can only be recognized in captured images. The next time you visit the DC Air & Space Museum, look up after you walk through the front doors. You’ll notice the Glamorous Glennis overheard and you can remark to the person standing beside you, “Hey, that’s Chuck Yeager’s plane!” What a story. What a pilot!
Sometimes, there’s a man.