The FH-1100, H. Hughes and the LOH, Part One
Bob Barbanes
The LOH (Light Observation Helicopter) competition of the 1960's was certainly
a milestone in aviation history. It was extremely controversial and plagued
with enough intrigue and Congressional investigations to make a halfway decent
spy thriller (well, if Oliver Stone were to make it). It cost one man nearly
$90 <i>million</i> in personal funds and caused the demise of a truly
innovative and historic helicopter company. And ultimately, the Army's
competence was called into question, and it lost credibility that it would need
to support future programs.
In any discussion of historical events, there is always some room for
interpretation. We may think we know all the "facts," but time has a way of
clouding and distorting issues. Newspaper and magazine articles don't always
present a true historical perspective, although they are valuable in
establishing a timeline of events, if not the behind-the-scenes machinations
that lead up to them. I will concede that people who were actually there might
shed some specific light on certain details that may have simply been reported
wrongly. And, because this was "only" thirty-five years ago, some will
probably be able to contradict certain reported "facts" with those of their
own.
Having said that, let's look at what is generally known about the LOH
competition up to the point at which Fairchild Hiller pulled out. Most of what
follows is taken from articles in such magazines as "Aviation Week and Space
Technology," as referenced in an article by Kent Mitchell entitled "The Saga of
the Hiller OH-5A" published in the "Journal, American Aviation Historical
Society" Magazine, the book "Citizen Hughes," and the book "Vertical Challenge:
The Hiller Aircraft Story" by Jay Spenser.
Howard Hughes has kindly been called "eccentric," and "flamboyant." But let's
be honest, he was crazy..."out there"...looney tunes. Alas, our society has
always indulged the rich, and in that way we've cut Hughes a lot of slack.
Maybe we're just reluctant to admit that such a dashing, larger-than-life
figure as he could deteriorate into an abyss of mental problems. But come on,
he was nuts.
It was his father, Howard Sr. who really struck it rich by inventing a new
drill bit for the oil industry in 1908. It made Howard Jr. a billionaire-
unimaginable wealth back then. Always interested in aviation, Junior was a
talented pilot. He was also a clever and innovative aircraft designer, but not
a very successful one. His enormous Hughes-Kaiser flying boat (the HK-1) was a
classic case of "too many/too late." Who wanted that many piston engines on a
seaplane(!) in the dawning of the landplane jet age? Unfortunately, his
business acumen was, shall we say, lacking. By the 1950's, instead of
producing aircraft, his company made missiles and electronic fire-control
devices. We can only imagine his gnawing frustration.
Additionally, he was an interfering meddler who often got in the way. In 1953,
a bunch of top executives at Hughes Aircraft abandoned him, only to go on and
form such companies as TRW and Litton Industries. So upset was the government
that it forbade Howard from any involvement with his own company or they would
summarily cancel the remaining contracts he did have! (They knew, even back
then.) This left him with control of the Hughes Tool Company. He took great
pains to disguise that he personally ran it. Which explains why it was
ironically and confusingly through that company's Aircraft Division (as opposed
to Hughes Aircraft) that he produced the diminutive model 269.
The Army/Navy announced the LOH competition in October of 1961. Oddly, Defense
Department rules at the time prohibited the Army from holding competitions for
new aircraft on their own. So the Navy was tasked with the technical and
contractual responsibility for the competition. The winning entry was supposed
to be operational in 1964.
Hughes wanted the contract. Badly. (Hell, with the possibility of a contract
to produce up to <I>3,000 aircraft</I>, who wouldn't want it?) Howard's ego
demanded that he be known in history as a great aircraft manufacturer, one way
or another. So Hughes was among the twelve companies who submitted seventeen
design proposals.
And it must have come as a great disappointment when the Army announced in May
of 1961 that Hiller of Palo Alto, California and Bell of Ft. Worth, Texas
jointly had prevailed in the competition. Hughes was out. Or was he?
Remember, this was not your "average" citizen we're talking about here.
Howard was not to be denied. In his book "Vertical Challenge," Jay Spenser
describes it this way: <I>"Hughes vice president...Albert W. Bayer-- who
boasted extensive personal contacts within the Army's most senior staff--sought
special favor in violation of an existing ban on lobbying. At Bayer's covert
instigation, General Clyde D. Eddleman, then acting chief of staff, ordered the
selection board to reconvene on a Saturday in an extraordinary session from
which, strangely enough, the Navy and Marine Corps were excluded."</I> The
outcome of the meeting was...surprise, surprise!...the vote on the Hughes
design proposal had been reversed. Instead of the usual two winners, in the
LOH competition, there were now three. Would it come as a shock to you to find
out that there were no minutes taken of this momentous meeting? Me either.
The clock was ticking. Obviously, this caused a lot of consternation, both
from outside and even within the Army. As expected, the Army did the old
soft-shoe and some crawfishing, blaming the Navy and maintaining that it was
<i>they</i> (not the Army!) who screwed up the competition. (Yeah, what did
the Navy know about procuring aircraft?) Ultimately, the Army had to promise
the Department of Defense that they would use funds from their own existing
budget to bring Hughes in.
And so we leave our story there, in the summer of 1961. Allison did a redesign
of the T-63's power turbine which added an incredible <i>forty pounds</i> to
its weight, which caused some further delay in the program. (The design
metamorphosis of the T63/250-series engine is probably worth a whole book in
itself.) In Part Two of our story we'll explore the events that lead up to
Fairchild Hiller president Ed Uhl's fateful and bitter decision in 1967 to pull
the FH-1100 from the LOH re-competition.
Bob -wish I'd been there- Barbanes
Pensacola, Florida
Paul Baechler
(Bob Barbanes) wrote:
>Howard Hughes has kindly been called "eccentric," and "flamboyant." But let's
>be honest, he was crazy..."out there"...looney tunes. Alas, our society has
>always indulged the rich, and in that way we've cut Hughes a lot of slack.
>Maybe we're just reluctant to admit that such a dashing, larger-than-life
>figure as he could deteriorate into an abyss of mental problems. But come on,
>he was nuts.
Howard Hughes was a successful pilot and businessman, who showed no
evidence of mental problems prior to the XF-11 crash. A reasonable person
would conclude that the mental problems he suffered later were a result of
brain damage in that crash. He clearly had mental problems at the end of
his life, but to suggest that he always had them is, at best, incorrect.
>His enormous Hughes-Kaiser flying boat (the HK-1) was a
>classic case of "too many/too late." Who wanted that many piston engines on a
>seaplane(!) in the dawning of the landplane jet age?
It has become fashionable to condemn the HK-1 without considering, or even
being aware of, the reason for its existance. The HK-1 was designed to
supply the British Isles at a time when Losses to U-boats made it doubtful
that the merchant marine could do so (in effect a long-range, far more
vital Berlin Airlift). It was a flying boat because the runways weren't
there, made of wood because there was a fear that there would be limited
supplies of aluminum and steel, and existed solely to avoid the U-boats.
Of course, as events unfolded, losses to the U-boats were cut to an
acceptable level by the introduction of advanced submarine detection
equipment and aggressive anti-submarine tactics. In retrospect, the
development of the HK-1 was a waste of money, but no more so than many
other programs, e.g. the fast battleships. It was, of course, designed
before the dawn of the jet transport age; it flew before the dawn of the
jet transport age and it would be almost 20 years until a US jet transport
was capable of carrying a similar load.
--
Paul Baechler
pbae...@bellsouth.net
John Hairell
> Part One:
>
[much stuff snipped]
>
> The Army/Navy announced the LOH competition in October of 1961. Oddly, Defense
> Department rules at the time prohibited the Army from holding competitions for
> new aircraft on their own. So the Navy was tasked with the technical and
> contractual responsibility for the competition. The winning entry was supposed
> to be operational in 1964.
>
The Army had its aircraft procurement functions taken away when the
Air Force was established. The Army Air Corps had most of the
procurement expertise and that entire part of the Army disappeared.
It was felt post-war that the Army did not have enough technical
expertise to evaluate competing aircraft designs, and responsibility
for aircraft procurement for the Army was given to the Navy and USAF.
This caused all sorts of agony in Army aviation in the 1950s - the
USAF especially dragged its tail on many Army procurement issues. The
USAF also did a lot of high-level maintenance on Army aircraft in that
period and they stalled on that too.
Since the LOH winner was supposed to be FAA-certified, it was felt by
the Army that Navy/USAF procurement responsibililites weren't needed
and they were able to successfully argue their case to DOD.
Much of the above (on Army-USAF rivalries) is documented in detail in
an official Army aviation history for the period up to 1962 written by
the TRADOC historian. This is the only official history I've ever
seen that doesn't obfuscate the facts a bit - it names names of who
from what service did what when, and it shows the USAF would stop at
nothing when it came to not letting the Army have aircraft. The Army
was not entirely blameless - internal struggles over the role of Army
aviation somewhat crippled their fight against the USAF. At one point
the USAF even agreed to have H-21-based assault helo squadrons so that
the Army wouldn't go in that direction. This idea never came to
fruition.
> Hughes wanted the contract. Badly. (Hell, with the possibility of a contract
> to produce up to <I>3,000 aircraft</I>, who wouldn't want it?) Howard's ego
> demanded that he be known in history as a great aircraft manufacturer, one way
> or another. So Hughes was among the twelve companies who submitted seventeen
> design proposals.
Hughes was also very interested in a civilian spinoff of the Model
369/OH-6A, the Hughes 500. I believe that the idea was that they
could make up for the OH-6 program losses by selling a much higher
priced 500 to corporate users.
> And it must have come as a great disappointment when the Army announced in May
> of 1961 that Hiller of Palo Alto, California and Bell of Ft. Worth, Texas
> jointly had prevailed in the competition. Hughes was out. Or was he?
> Remember, this was not your "average" citizen we're talking about here.
>
> Howard was not to be denied. In his book "Vertical Challenge," Jay Spenser
> describes it this way: <I>"Hughes vice president...Albert W. Bayer-- who
> boasted extensive personal contacts within the Army's most senior staff--sought
> special favor in violation of an existing ban on lobbying. At Bayer's covert
> instigation, General Clyde D. Eddleman, then acting chief of staff, ordered the
> selection board to reconvene on a Saturday in an extraordinary session from
> which, strangely enough, the Navy and Marine Corps were excluded."</I> The
> outcome of the meeting was...surprise, surprise!...the vote on the Hughes
> design proposal had been reversed. Instead of the usual two winners, in the
> LOH competition, there were now three. Would it come as a shock to you to find
> out that there were no minutes taken of this momentous meeting? Me either.
The Hughes proposal was originally seen as too far advanced for
current technology.
> The clock was ticking. Obviously, this caused a lot of consternation, both
> from outside and even within the Army. As expected, the Army did the old
> soft-shoe and some crawfishing, blaming the Navy and maintaining that it was
> <i>they</i> (not the Army!) who screwed up the competition. (Yeah, what did
> the Navy know about procuring aircraft?) Ultimately, the Army had to promise
> the Department of Defense that they would use funds from their own existing
> budget to bring Hughes in.
>
> And so we leave our story there, in the summer of 1961. Allison did a redesign
> of the T-63's power turbine which added an incredible <i>forty pounds</i> to
> its weight, which caused some further delay in the program. (The design
> metamorphosis of the T63/250-series engine is probably worth a whole book in
> itself.) In Part Two of our story we'll explore the events that lead up to
> Fairchild Hiller president Ed Uhl's fateful and bitter decision in 1967 to pull
> the FH-1100 from the LOH re-competition.
>
The 250/T-63 had all sorts of problems early on, and the Army had a
backup engine design from another manufacturer in the pipeline also,
but that was later cancelled when the 250 teething problems were
solved.
John Hairell (guar...@erols.com)
Paul Baechler
guar...@erols.com (John Hairell) wrote:
>Hughes was also very interested in a civilian spinoff of the Model
>369/OH-6A, the Hughes 500. I believe that the idea was that they
>could make up for the OH-6 program losses by selling a much higher
>priced 500 to corporate users.
Hughes was also very aware that by properly pricing ECPs and spares it was
possible to make a healthy profit without taking a profit on the aircraft
sale. Hughes pricing generally followed that philosophy.
--
Paul Baechler
pbae...@bellsouth.net
John Hairell
That's a very interesting point I hadn't thought about...
As an aside, a single 520N front door supposedly costs something like $11,000.
John Hairell (guar...@erols.com)