The Sopwith Bactrian

[Archibald]

When discussing aviation today, everyone has heard of the 'black box', also known as the flight data recorder. Few however, even those who work in the industry, recall the first black box, which performed an entirely different function.



This black box was born out of desperation. It was the summer of 1918 and the war was going well, with victory in sight. But at one lone aerodrome they were truly desperate. The cause of this situation was a young Lieutenant, a man with the right family background to ensure a flying position, but with an ineptness at handling aircraft which rivaled the abilities of the squadron's mascot, a goat named Mr. Punch. His name was Arthur Streeb-Greebling, a confused individual who, after sampling frog's legs at a reception hosted by the French government, had developed an unseemly interest in expanding the culinary possibilities of anuran amphibians. They took another unusual turn when an American Doughboy from Georgia gave him a peach.

The future of aerial reconnaissance began one morning as our unlikely hero taxied his Sopwith Camel toward the field. The port wing contacted the mess hall, tearing off the outer few ribs. Procuring another mount, he again set out on his assigned patrol, swerving to miss the workers clearing up his previous indiscretion. The resulting contact of his starboard wingtip with the C.O.'s office took another aircraft out of service. An engine-destroying nose-over dispatched a third Camel, and with it the immediate flying aspirations of the young man.

Desperate to find him some way of securing his place in history, lest his well-connected family should start asking questions, the C.O. allowed Streeb-Greebling to indulge an idea which he had presented earlier; an aircraft dedicated to airborne photography. The three forlorn Camels were placed at his disposal, and work commenced on joining them together. This, it was thought, would perhaps mitigate the tricky handling characteristics of the aircraft by making it more stable. It would also allow for the carriage of the unit named the Black Box, which was a wooden structure outfitted as a self-contained darkroom operated by a single crewman, whose job it was to take photographs and then process them in the air, dropping them on return as they passed over headquarters.


Underside view showing the high-speed lens position in the nose of the 'Black Box'

The obvious name for the new creation was the Bactrian, and as such it was as ungainly looking as its namesake. The first two Camels were joined at the damaged portions of their wings, and outer sections were cannibalized from the third to provide extra lifting surfaces near the tips. The Black Box was then placed on the lower mainplane. The new aircraft was repainted an unusual green colour, symbolizing Streeb-Greebling's penchant for frogs.



The initial foray was the final undoing of the Lieutenant. Rather than trying to photograph enemy positions, they cautiously experimented with allied installations. Hoping to impress the upper echelons they flew over a meeting of the general staff taking place at a chateau and snapped what were, for the time, some high-resolution pictures, which were then processed on board and dropped down for the perusal of the assembled commanders. Early into the meeting one Brigadier Sir Hartley Smythe-Barrington, an aristocrat with a hitherto impeccable pedigree, had excused himself on the pretense of conferring with his Regimental Sergeant Major. Unfortunately the first photo viewed by the group showed, in the back garden, the bare buttocks of Sir Hartley nestled between the equally bare legs of a young serving girl.

When last heard from Streeb-Greebling was looking for land in the Yorkshire moors with a plan to possibly retire there.

Very funny and imaginative! Something to fly along the Petit Pet...