My research for Last of the Propliners turned up some pretty, oh let’s say “unique” French and British designs from the post World War II period. I had so many I decided to give them their own diary.
A lot of these were built in pretty small numbers, say 20-30 copies, nowhere near enough to recover the development costs. Some were good, some were not so good, and some make me scratch my head and go “What the heck were they thinking?”
The Brits
During World War II, by necessity, the British aircraft industry focused primarily on fighters and bombers. This put them at a disadvantage after the war in terms of airliners and transports. The first British postwar airliners were in fact converted bombers.
Airspeed Ambassador
Looking somewhat like a miniature Lockheed Constellation, the Ambassador was designed for short haul routes. These first flew in 1947 and were introduced in 1951. Basically it was intended as a replacement for the DC-3s that were everywhere in 1947. I’d say it was roughly equivalent to a Convair 240, which was almost designed as a DC-3 replacement.
Pressurized and relatively quiet for a piston aircraft, they were popular with passengers if not the airlines. Only 23 were built. They were replaced in the late 1950s when turboprop aircraft like the Vickers Viscount became available.
Avro Lancastrian
The Lancastrian was an airliner conversion of the legendary Lancaster bomber. The very first batch of these actually started out as bombers and were turned into airliners.
Generally speaking, airliners don’t convert well to bombers and bombers don’t make very good airliners. Bombs are very heavy but don’t take up much space. As such the Lancastrian had a long, skinny fuselage which gave it great range and speed for its day.
Sounds good, except it could only hold 9 passengers in addition to its 5 crew members. It had the power to carry a lot more people, there just wasn’t anywhere to put them. These were mostly used as V.I.P. transports where speed and range were important and cost wasn’t.
The follow on the Lancaster was the Lincoln. A Lancaster converted to an airliner became a “Lancastrian” and a Lincoln became a “Lincolnian”. Yes, really. I can’t tell you how many Lincolnians were built, but it ought to be worth a few points at your next Scrabble game.
Avro York
Take the wings off a Lancaster, attach them to the box the Lancaster came in and you’ve got a York. Actually a fairly clever design, the York used a lot of parts from the “Lanc” but had a boxy fuselage more suited to carrying passengers.
While roomy, these were noisy and unpressurized so probably not the most comfortable thing in the world. Still it was a fairly successful design with over 250 built. Some of these were still in service as late as the early 1960s.
Avro Tudor
Yet another descendant of the Lancaster bomber, the Tudor was the first British airliner with a pressurized cabin. It was an oddity in that it retained a tailwheel landing gear in an era when everyone was switching to tricycle gear. It also had 4 liquid-cooled Merlin engines when most airliners of the day used air-cooled radial engines. I’m guessing they had a surplus of Merlin engines at the end of the war. What I wouldn’t give to have one today.
Poor BOAC kept getting stuck with these British designs that generally weren’t as good as the American competition. It’s not that the Tudor was a bad aircraft, but a DC-4 or Constellation could carry more passengers than a Tudor with greater efficiency.
A mere 38 were built, with a few serving into the late 1950s.
de Havilland Heron
The Heron was a 14-17 seat regional airliner developed from the twin-engine de Havilland Dove. The first model didn’t have retractable landing gear, which is very strange for an airliner built in 1950.
The much improved Heron 2 had retractable gear and more powerful engines. You can spot a Dove or Heron by the distinctive hump over the cockpit. These were fairly popular back in the day with 150 civil and military versions sold to over 30 countries.
Looks like it would be fun to fly. You can never have too many engines I say.
Handley Page Halton
The Halton was another example of “Hey mates, the war’s over and we’ve got all these bloody bombers sitting around. What do we do with them?”
The Halton was a Halifax bomber converted into an airliner. Like the Lancastrian, it suffered from lack of interior space, carrying a mere 10 passengers.
I can find very little material about this aircraft. One apparently did serve in the Berlin Airlift along with some Lancastrians and Yorks. These were all operated by private contractors.
Handley Page Hermes
Roughly equivalent to a DC-6, the Hermes was powered by four Bristol Hercules radial engines and seated up to 82 passengers in a pressurized cabin.
Developed from the Hastings military transport, the Hermes was overweight, tail-heavy and had stability issues. The initial prototype crashed, killing Handley Page’s chief test pilot and chief observer. Usually not a good start.
Only 29 were built. BOAC used them for only a few years before replacing them with Canadair Argonauts. The Argonaut was a weird hybrid of a DC-4 with Merlin engines that I didn’t even know existed until I wrote this piece.
Bristol Type 170
This is one of those “So weird only the British could have built it” airplanes that I love. Basically it was a box with wings and a cockpit stuck on top. They didn’t bother with retractable gear, because a box will only go so fast. On the short routes these flew, it probably wouldn’t have made much difference.
The 170 could carry both passengers and freight, although there was a passenger-only version used by some airlines.
One novel use was carrying passengers and their cars, kind of like a ferry-boat with wings. Anyone who’s dealt with airport car rentals would like that idea.
Bristol Britannia
The British went heavy into turboprops in the years after WWII, producing several successful designs. One of these was the “Whispering Giant” Bristol Britannia.
Today we associate turboprops with small, regional airliners but the Britannia was anything but.
This was a good sized aircraft, capable of carrying up to 139 passengers over long distances. It was roughly the size of a modern, narrow-body jetliner with a wingspan of 142 feet and max takeoff weight of 185,000 pounds.
The Bristol Proteous engines had some teething problems which caused the Britannia to be late to the game. In the early 1950s this thing would have been a world-beater. By the time it was introduced in 1957 the 707 was on its way and the Britannia was hopelessly outclassed. Only 85 were built.
A cargo derivative was built by Canadair as the CL-44. It was unique in that the tail swung open for cargo loading.
Bristol Brabazon
Only one of these was built but I include it because it’s so freakin’ awesome. This huge aircraft was designed to carry a mere 100 passengers in luxurious accommodations. Today we’d cram 300+ into something this size but that’s how they rolled in 1950s England.
177 feet long with a wingspan of 230 feet, this was one of the largest aircraft ever built at the time. That’s actually more wing than a 747-8 (224 feet). Max takeoff weight was 290,000 pounds which puts it between a 757 and a 767.
Quite advanced for its time, the Brabazon featured fully powered flight controls (one of the first) and eight Bristol Centaurus radial engines coupled together turning four contra-rotating propellers.
Only a single prototype was built. A second turboprop powered prototype was started but never finished. Even in the 1950s, there was no market for a giant First-Class “luxury liner”. Like today the airlines wanted to stuff as many passengers as possible into the thing. With no airline orders, the project was cancelled.
de Havilland Albatross
I include the Albatross only because it’s such a beauty and my wife likes the name “de Havilland”. I realize this doesn’t meet my criteria of being a post-war aircraft but I like the looks of it so it stays.
A mere seven of these were built in the late 1930s and the type was retired by 1943. The plywood construction, similar to the legendary Mosquito fighter-bomber, proved susceptible to deterioration.
Saunders-Roe SR.45 Princess
The age of the great flying boats was over by 1952 but that didn’t stop the Brits from trying.
Prior to WWII, airports were scarce and runways were short. If you wanted a big airliner, your best bet was to use the water as your runway.
After the war, we had plenty of airports and runways capable of handling big aircraft. Why anyone wanted to build a huge flying boat in the early 1950s is beyond me.
This was a very big aircraft with a wingspan of 219 feet and a max takeoff weight of 330,000 pounds. It had a weird “double bubble” fuselage that made it look like the unholy spawn of a Boeing Stratocruiser and an ocean liner.
It was powered by 10 (count ‘em) Bristol Proteus turboprops. The inner two sets of engines were coupled together, turning contra-rotating propellers. The outer set were single engines turning a single propeller. So the engine configuration was 1 2 2 | 2 2 1.
It would have carried a mere 105 passengers. I think I see your problem right here buddy. No way you’re going to make money building something like that to carry 105 people around. This shows how some in the British aircraft industry was still thinking in “Pre War” terms even in the early 1950s.
Three prototypes were built and stored in hopes of a future buyer. In the 1960s, it was thought that they might be used to haul sections of the Saturn V rockets around. Unfortunately salt water had corroded them to the point of being unusable by then.
Vickers Viscount
The Viscount has to be one of the most successful British airliners with 445 produced.
When introduced in 1953 this thing was way ahead of the game. We had nothing comparable until the Lockheed Electra in 1959. The turboprop Viscount was faster, quieter and smoother riding than the piston engine airliners of the day.
These were operated by several US airlines, including United and Continental.
Viscounts were popular on short and medium length routes until being replaced mostly by DC-9s and 727s in the 1960s. Every once in a while I’ll be watching an old movie and I’ll recognize a Viscount.
Some of these were still in operation as recently as 2008.
The French
Just in case you thought the British had the monopoly on weird aircraft, you would be mistaken monsieur.
When I write about French aircraft from back in the day, I come across some odd sounding names and acronyms like “SNCASE”, “Sud-Est” and “Nord”.
Since I speak just enough French to make Parisians look around for a sharp object to puncture their eardrums with, I know that “Nord” means “North”.
Why would you name your company “North”? It all makes sense once you realize that the French nationalized their defense industry in the late 1930s.
The design centers were referred by their geographic locations (North, Center, West, Southeast, Southwest).
Names going back to the early days of aviation, like Blériot and Bloch were merged into the bland sounding Société nationale des constructions aéronautiques du sud-ouest. This is usually shortened to Sud-Ouest (Southwest) or by its acronym SNCASO.
Others were merged into the similar sounding SNCASE or Sud-Est (Southeast). In 1941 the headquarters of Sud-Est were moved to Toulouse to avoid capture by the Germans.
In 1957 Sud-Ouest was merged with Sud-Est to form Sud Aviation (South).
In 1970 Sud and Nord (North) were merged to form Aérospatiale. In 2000 Aérospatiale merged with some other European companies to become EADS, which today is called "Airbus Group” and based in Toulouse.
It’s complicated, but that’s how it’s gone in aviation since day one. Merger after merger until you’re down to a handful of outfits worldwide.
Like the British, the French aircraft industry found itself a bit behind the game in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Still they managed to produce some unique if not really successful designs.
SNCASE SE.161 Languedoc
The Sud-Est Languedoc (named after a region in France) was a good looking aircraft. Unfortunately it didn’t work as good as it looked. While it may have been noisy and unheated, the Languedoc was at least unreliable. For obvious reasons they weren’t popular with passengers. Air France replaced them with DC-4s, which actually ran and had a heater. Luxury!
SNCASE SE 2010 Armagnac
This one was apparently named after a type of Brandy. Since there’s a wine from Languedoc I’m noticing a trend here.
The Armagnac was a big aircraft for its day: 130 feet long with a wingspan of 160 feet. Quite a bit larger than a DC-7 or Constellation. It used the same trouble-prone Pratt & Whitney R-4360 engines as the Boeing Stratocruiser.
The big problem with the Armagnac was that it didn’t have enough range to cross the Atlantic but it was too large to make a profit on short-haul routes. It also had a lot of wasted space in its large fuselage, which means you’re burning extra fuel just to fly air around.
This was a plane in search of a niche to fill and it never really found it. Only 9 were built and they ended up serving as military transports.
S.O.30 Bretagne
The Sud-Ouest Bretagne was another early 1940s design that didn’t actually get built until after WWII.
I can’t find a whole lot about this aircraft. The tricycle gear is fairly advanced for a 1941 design. It was powered by Pratt & Whitney R-2800 engines which would have put it in the same class as a Convair 240. Depending on how it was configured it could carry up to 43 passengers.
I can’t tell if it was pressurized or not. Being a 1941 design I would guess not.
A total of 45 were built for Air France and the French military.
Latécoère 631
This is actually a pre-war design but I put it in here because they entered service after the war. Plus I just like it. I would argue that it’s the best looking of the great flying boats. Prettier even than the beautiful Pan Am Clippers.
This was designed before the French aircraft industry turned into acronym stew, so I’m guessing that’s why it kept its original name.
The 631 was a huge aircraft for its day, roughly half again the size of a Boeing 314 Clipper.
While beautiful it had a terrible record. Of the 10 built, one was confiscated by the Nazis and later destroyed by the RAF. Four of the remaining aircraft were lost in crashes. Air France quit operating the type after only a year in service and one loss. The last flying example was lost in a crash in 1955.
Having read the accident reports, it didn’t seem like there was a single fatal flaw in the design. They all crashed for different reasons. As we saw with the Princess, there was no market for large flying boats after 1945.
Breguet Br.763 Deux Ponts
For sheer Gallic weirdness the Deux Ponts “Double Decker” is tough to beat.
Note that its official name was “Provence” after the region in France. The French Air Force version was a “Sahara”. The civilian cargo version was a “Universale”.
Looking not unlike a giant fish, the 763 in Air France service carried 107 passengers with 59 sitting up top and the rest on the lower deck.
Despite being strange, it was actually a good aircraft and cost less to operate than a DC-4. Roughly 20 of these were built. I’m not sure how many of those were civil versus military. I believe the initial Air France order was for a dozen.
The type operated with Air France until 1971 and the French Air Force until 1972.
In case that wasn’t weird enough, one of them is now being used as a restaurant at Fonteney Tresigny Airport (LPPQ). You can’t make this stuff up folks.