ADVISING U.S.A.

Gisborne Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20071, 18 October 1939, Page 10

ADVISING U.S.A.

FORMER ‘FLYING FOOL* SENSATIONAL CAREER CURIOUS FRIENDSHIP GERMAN LEADERS Most, thoughtful folk, both in the British Empire and the United States of America, will deplore the fact that a one-time sensational flyer of aeroplanes should have rushed in to give opinions on matters of a highly diplomatic nature. At the height of this pilot’s fame he was given the sobriquet of the “flying fool,” states “Rickshaws” in the Dominion. His sensational feats in the air, including a flight from America to Paris in a machine quite unsuited for the purpose, was hailed with spontaneous acclamation. The sensationalism of this one flight, which did nothing to assist aviation except to emphasise the dangers of flying unsuitable machines over unsuitable courses, endeared him to the great American public. Flying aces opened up a profitable field for advertisers, and his feat caused the unsensational deaths of others who tried to copy it. The subsequent series of unfortunate events which saddened a career which started so sensationally evoked the sympathy of every person in Britain and her Dominions. A sadder, and one hoped a wiser, man was given refuge in Britain against the assaults of his own people, who had formerly applauded him. One does hot now recognise Lindbergh, the ace, ready to take outrageous risks to gain his ambition. Dangerous Tonic There is, indeed, something in the career of Lindbergh which is parallel to that of Hitler. One embarked on a diplomatic adventure and the other on a flying venture. Both careers have led to unhappiness, not only for the individuals concerned but for a host of other unfortunate people. Success is a dangerous tonic which breeds a desire for more and more success. Some new piece of sensationalism must be created to enable the victim to go from one height to yet something higher and to keep him in the public eye. We know Hitler's methods. Lindbergh also arrived unannounced as a national hero by making one risky flight in an aeroplane. Over-adulation is, however, even more dangerous than flying land machines over long sea routes. Lindbergh set out to become an unofficial ambassador for America. As a sideline he discovered lost cities in South America, and he invented mechanical hearts after finally slipping away unobtrusively from a coun'ry where events had made life unbearable. Only recently he arrived back in America with sensational, if inaccurate, estimates of the air strength of the nations, and a curious friendship with the German leaders. Lindbergh, the flying ace, held the respect of the world. The old adage of the bookmaker sticking to his last remains true even to-day.