D-Day Squadron: Ready to Solo

Back in 2019, we made a pilgrimage to the beaches of Normandy to join aviation enthusiasts and family in the commemoration of the 75th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. Part of my remit then was to cover the events both in France and England for Flying magazine.

But more importantly, I had the privilege of interviewing and flying with members of the D-Day Squadron, the collective of which had just flown a coterie of Douglas DC-3 and C-47 variants across the North Atlantic to be part of the memorial displays. Back then, the group formed in coordination and with the support of the Tunison Foundation, which at that time operated Placid Lassie, a restored C-47. The foundation made it logistically possible for Placid Lassie to make not only the crossing but also keep to a busy schedule of events and airshows throughout that year and beyond.

Following that incredible year, the DC-3 Society was born, with a mission to create a true stewardship for the DC-3 type, with a charge to educate, support, and maintain the flying Douglas DC-3s and their extensive model series into the future. With an estimated 150 DC-3s and variants still flying, that’s an important pursuit.

Now, on the 89th anniversary of the DC-3’s first flight in 1935 in Santa Monica, the D-Day Squadron is poised to make a solo flight of its own. With a nod of thanks to the foundation, as of January 2025, the Squadron will stand separately, ready to carry on the mission.

Eric Zipkin, board president of the Tunison Foundation, served as chief pilot for the 2019 and 2024 D-Day Squadron missions to Normandy. “We’re excited for the future of the DC-3 Society, especially continuing to operate this type of aircraft in our current climate,” Zipkin said in a release. “It’s imperative we have a structured member organization looking out for our best interests and needs.”

The DC-3 Society will continue to be led by executive director Lyndse Costabile, and its standalone 501(c)3 status will soon be official. The Society will focus on the Squadron’s programming and platforms, while the Squadron will focus on flying displays commemorating the DC-3. “We know the D-Day Squadron is globally recognized, that’s no secret,” said Costabile. “It’s become a symbol to many in celebrating the Grand Dame, the legendary DC-3 and all those who crewed and maintained her.”

“That is why we must highlight the DC-3 Society to ensure longevity of our programs, membership resources and continuing to celebrate all that the DC-3 has accomplished in war and in peace,” Costabile added. Those programs include a favorite of mine, the Young Historians, which encourages the next generation to study and understand the airplane and the extensive role it has played in global history, from its airline days, to World War II, to the Vietnam War, and to the present day in cargo and transport operations.

“We know with the DC-3 Society there is a place for our younger generation to help tell the stories of the Greatest Generation, our heroes too humble to even consider themselves heroes, ” said Henry Simpson, pilot and founding member of the Young Historian’s Program based in the UK. “I am looking forward to our role to help lead the society’s education and outreach programming, continuing our mission to serve, honor and pay tribute to veterans.”

We’re here to fully support the next mission, which includes a string of 90th anniversary events across the U.S. and Europe in 2025. Want to join in? Follow the DC-3 Society website and social channels.

Django Studios designed the logo for the 90th anniversary campaign in 2025 for the Douglas DC-3. [Courtesy of the DC-3 Society]

Seeing the Future on the PCH

Driving back from the Santa Monica Airport to my friend’s house in Agoura Hills, I have the option of going the coastal route, skipping the 101 and its traffic vagaries and headaches.

The Pacific Coast Highway up to Malibu, with a turnoff right at Pepperdine (Waves!!) snuggles me in like a old pair of yoga pants as I join the parade past the beaches to the left and the Palisades rising to the right.

Just past the turnoff to the Bay Inn, a motion above the water ahead catches my eye. I think it’s a helicopter—those fly by regularly on this stretch of SoCal—but I register with a start that it could have been the Joby demonstrator, “N54LAX,” that had been on display all day at KSMO, in honor of Donald Douglas Day.

Screenshot

Had I just witnessed a milestone in history? Not quite. But I saw our future.

In a conversation with Joby founder JoeBen Bevirt last year, his tone and his passion as he related his desire to innovate point-to-point transport into a whisper-quiet, zero-emissions occurrence touched me. It came back in waves—yes—as I slowed and stopped at the next light, considering my trip up the coast versus the joyful flight those members of the Joby team would have enjoyed on their sightseeing cruise. While the 228-nm flight back home to Marina wasn’t in the cards—but could it be, at this moment in time, completed directly by airplane or helicopter—or eVTOL? In near silence, at dollars per hour instead of thousands?

Well, here we are. That future is imminent.

What a fitting close to Donald Douglas Day, celebrating a man who brought commercial air transport to the masses with the Douglas DC-3, nearly 90 years ago.

He would have *loved* the Joby, Archer, Pivotal, Pipistrel, and Airhart displays at Santa Monica on “his” day.

Santa Monica to Celebrate Donald Douglas Day

It seems a bit far-fetched, that a municipality so dead-set on closing its aviation jewel
—the Santa Monica Airport (KSMO)—would set aside a day to celebrate the man who put the town on the map, as far as the aerospace industry is concerned.

Yet on Sunday, September 22, Santa Monica will recognize Donald Douglas Day with a grand affair at the airport, marking the week 100 years ago when the Douglas World Cruisers returned to California following their epic round-the-world flight.

I plan to be on hand all day, working with Pilot Outfitters and the Santa Monica Flyers to promote the history of Douglas Aircraft Company, and the innovation that Douglas not only inspired but invested in and propelled forward.

Come join me! I will be signing my books, Honest Vision: The Donald Douglas Story, and Together We Fly: Voices From the DC-3, and talking with folks about the legendary DWCs and DC-3s that were built at Clover Field. Bring your copy or pick one up from Pilot Outfitters for me to sign. I look forward to meeting everyone!

One Hundred Years Ago: A Crossing

At the same time that the newly christened Douglas DC-3, Spirit of Douglas, made its way from Caen, France to North Weald, England, to Wick, Scotland, to Reykjavik, Iceland, to Narsarsuaq, Greenland, to Goose Bay, Labrador, to Burlington, Vermont—we also collectively celebrated the 100 years since the Douglas World Cruisers—the three left, Boston, Chicago, Seattle—plied a similar path across the North Atlantic.

Except, in 1924, no one else had done it.

One hundred years ago this Labor Day Weekend, New Yorkers lined the harbor to see the DWCs pass by, nearing the home stretch on their globe-cinching adventure.

We also watched from our home base as Spirit of Douglas winged its way past us heading to its temporary home base, at Aerometal International, in Aurora, Oregon (KUAO). Many plans lay ahead for the newly restored flying tribute to Donald Douglas—and we’ve been invited to share stories along the way.

For the moment, we’re counting down to September 22, when we’ll spend Donald Douglas Day at the Santa Monica Airport (KSMO). The last legs of the DWC adventure have further hazards to surmount for the crews, as it turns out.

Seattle’s Last Roar

The replica of the Seattle—one of the Douglas World Cruisers that did not complete the round-the-world flight—embodies the passion project of one man who by force of will recreated a dream that we honor this summer on the centennial of that milestone mission.

The Seattle II, built by Robert “Bob” Dempster and his wife and fellow pilot Diane—and a list of various contributors since 2001—sounded its Liberty V-12 engine for the final time on June 8, at the Chehalis-Centralia Airport in Washington.

I received a card invitation in the mail and wanted to fly across the country to hear that roar, knowing how precious it is becoming to witness the powerplants of yore in action. They may all be transformed to burn Jet-A or SAF or whirr on electricity in a shorter timeframe than we realize.

But alas, circumstances conspired, and so a friend of mine also with a passion for aviation history, Meg Godlewski, attended. I asked her to bear witness in my stead—and to snap a few pics off her iPhone. I give you this gallery and a tip of the hat to Bob, who I first met in October 2020 when the Seattle II was still barely kept under cover at the Renton Municipal Airport. It was still on floats, so it stretched amazingly tall in its open hangar home.

The Dempsters intended to fly the Seattle II around the world this year. After a spate of flying (including Alaska and Texas, and a commemoration flight for Boeing’s centennial in 2016), they settled for one mighty roar in 2024—and a permanent home at the Museum of Flight.

Sometimes life works out that way.

Crossing the Pacific by Cruiser

While it’s not quite in the same league as later journeys spanning our largest ocean, the flight of three Douglas World Cruisers that made it to Kagoshima, Japan, in May 1924 marked the first time the Pacific Ocean had been breached by air. By hopscotching up the Aleutian chain and over the Bering Strait, they plied their way—the Chicago, the New Orleans, and the Boston.

And they had to stay out of Russian waters along the way. Intrepid Russian officers paddled out to give them a jug of vodka, however, as they rested on May 15, bobbing in the waves well outside the three-mile limit off shore, according to Sky Master.

The trio of Douglas World Cruisers approach the bay at Kagoshima, Japan. [Credit: First Round the World on media.defense.gov]

When they made their way into Japan’s Kagoshima port, crowds waited on the sand to cheer their arrival. By May 17, headlines filled the newspapers back home, in time for the Saturday editions.

On May 24, the DWC crews went to Tokyo (spelled “Tokio” in Sky Master) to attend a grand reception. It would foreshadow the future, in the Sky Master text, which was published in 1943. Wrote Frank Cunningham: “The sight of American planes, though, upset the Japanese as they realized that even if the world flight planes were friendly ships, the United States might be able to fly fighting planes to Japan. Some writers have stated that the visit of the DWC planes gave aviation a tremendous impetus in the kingdom of the Rising Sun.

“The Evening News of Shanghai, China, May 23, reported an Eastern News Agency dispatch from Tokio saying: ‘The enthusiasm with which the American round-the-world-fliers were welcomed by the Japanese citizens when they safely arrived at Kasumagira [sic] well illustrates the Japanese good will and friendly feeling toward the United States despite the existence of the present Japanese-American controversy over the immigration question. [The U.S. had just passed the Immigration Act of 1924, effectively ending immigration by Japanese at the time.] Tokio today with the whole Japanese nation enthusiastically is fêting and giving welcome to the American airmen.'”

The Fate of the First “Seattle”

When the flight of four Douglas World Cruisers set out on April 6, 1924, to head north towards Alaska, they knew not what fate lay ahead. They did know, however, that the flight plan unfolded over stunning yet challenging terrain—the long, jagged finger of British Columbia and what would become the 49th state, Alaska (still to come in 1959).

Following the trip from Lake Washington to Prince Rupert, BC, the four DWCs made progress in fits and starts, waiting on weather and keeping their crafts from foundering while moored in various storms. But they pressed on. Adding to his previous aeronautical woes, Major Martin suffered an engine failure in the Seattle that forced him down in Portage Bay, on the way. He and Sgt. Harvey were rescued by a Navy destroyer, the U.S.S. Hull, on April 17.

Martin had a new engine—delivered by the U.S.S. Algonquin—installed in his mount and the pair launched for Dutch Harbor, Unalaska, on April 19, where the rest of the crews had pressed on towards at his behest, after holing up for a few days at Chignik. The trio, the Chicago, the New Orleans, and the Boston, made it by April 20, and then spent two weeks waiting for their commander to arrive.

While there, they spent their days keeping their airplanes secure, making minor repairs, and resting up for the journey ahead.

On April 25, news arrived that Martin had made it to Chignik, hugging the shoreline to stay on course through the poor visibility. This lengthened their route considerably, but they made it over the course of one long day.

On April 27—after celebrating Easter on the 26th—the crews replaced the engine on the Boston, which entertained “a distinct knock” according to the diaries of Erik Nelson. All of the engines had suffered burns and cracks to their exhaust manifolds.

At 10 a.m. on April 30, Martin and Harvey departed Chignik for the final push to Dutch Harbor. Unfortunately, striving to make up lost time, they took local advice on “an excellent short cut,” according to Sky Master. “This short cut turned out to be like most short cuts. While Martin was trying to follow the directions he found himself surrounded by fog, tried to climb over it. He didn’t. The Seattle hit a one thousand foot precipice on a mountainside, was badly cracked up. Fortunately, Major Martin and Sergeant Harvey were unhurt.”

When Douglas heard of the missing airplane, he employed “some Navy choice cuss words,” Sky Master continued.

Martin and Harvey used the wrecked airplane as a shelter for two days and nights before starting out to effect their own rescue. They almost fell over another precipice and returned to the Seattle. After striking out again, they lost three days before coming upon a cabin—where they stayed, trapped by a blizzard, for several more days, through May 8. One last push, then, found them in Port Moller, where “surprised cannery people welcomed them,” said Sky Master.

The three remaining DWCs would press on, departing on May 3, while they still awaited the news of their commander and his maintenance officer.

Dateline Seattle: April 6, 1924

His 32nd birthday—and what a present for Donald Douglas.

The Douglas World Cruisers, now the four of them assembled at Sandy Point, in Washington State, floated at their moorings on April 4, with fog conspiring to ground them for the day.

The crowd dispersed, only to return the next morning. Would this be it? April 5? But no, that morning, Major F.L. Martin—the flight’s commander—broke the prop on ship number one, the Seattle.

The morning of the 6th held promise, and the promise held as the quartet departed at long last, to the cheers of the crowd.

Donald Douglas and Lt. Eirk Nelson share a candid moment on departure day. [Credit: Douglas/”Sky Master”]

An image of Douglas and Nelson shows the easy stance between them—they’d struck up a friendship during Nelson’s months of duty in stationed in California preparing the ships for the flight. Douglas’ face remains gaunt, perhaps from the illness he’d just come through, or from the stress and worry ahead of the biggest moment of his professional life to that point.

Bets went against the four airplanes making it around the world—or even making it through Alaska. But they launched for Prince Rupert, British Columbia, under the escort of a gaggle of well-wishing aircraft. They would only follow along for a few miles… and then the Cruisers were on their own.

A Pit Stop at Pearson

On their way up to Seattle, the Douglas World Cruisers could not make the journey nonstop.

At least not three of them traveling together, the Seattle, the Chicago, and the Boston. The trio landed on March 19, 1924, at the Vancouver Barracks, in Vancouver, Washington, just across the Columbia River from Portland, Oregon.

They attempted to continue northbound, but the weather forced them to return to the Barracks to wait it out.

“The flight arrived at Vancouver, Wash., at 12:05 p.m., time of flight being 1 hour, 5 minutes. Vancouver is directly across the Columbia River from Portland. We were met by the mayor of Portland, the mayor of Vancouver, General Kuhn, the Commanding General of Vancouver Barracks, and many others of prominence in addition to a large crowd from Portland and Vancouver.”

-Major F.L. Martin, Army Air Service, Pilot of the Seattle [courtesy of the National Park Service website: https://www.nps.gov/articles/douglasworldcruiserspearson.htm]

A Douglas World Cruiser being serviced at the Vancouver Barracks on the flight up to Seattle. [Credit: Willard Carroll/National Park Service]

Round-the-World: Pre-Game Flight

The quartet of airplanes made their way up from California to the Seattle area beginning on March 17, with high hopes.

From Sky Master: The Story of Donald Douglas: “For half a year the Air Service had been working on the final plans on their aerial expedition. The flight was to leave from Santa Monica, cover some twenty-two countries and approximately 25,000 miles, [and] return to Santa Monica in August.

“The foreign lands to be visited or flown over were Canada, Alaska, Russia (the Kamchatka Peninsula), Japan, China, Indo-China, Siam, Burma, India, Persia, Mesopotamia, Syria, Turkey, Greece, Bulgaria, Rumania, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Austria, Germinay, France, England, Scotland, the Danish Faerce Islands, Iceland, and Greenland.

The globe-circling course as viewed from the North Pole also carried the images of several crew from the Douglas World Cruisers round-the-world flight. [Credit: From “Sky Master: The Story of Donald Douglas,” by Frank Cunningham]

“During the flight, the airmen were to soar over numerous bodies of water, such as the Gulf of Alaska, North Pacific Ocean, Yellow Sea, China Sea, Gulf of Siam, Bay of Bengal, Persian Gulf, The Straits, English Channel, the North Sea, the North Atlantic Ocean, the Denmark Strait, the Davis Strait, and the Gulf of St. Lawrence.”

But that was if the intrepid adventurers could make it past the western coast of the United States.

Misfortune descended upon Captain Martin’s airplane, the Seattle. As he flew up the San Joaquin Valley towards points to the north, Martin made a forced landing. From Sky Master: “He didn’t know it then, but that was nothing compared to what was to come a short time later.”