Soviet Arctic Aerial Exploration

First airplane landing on the ice in the near vicinity of the North Pole. Professor Otto Schmidt, leader of the SP-1 Expedition that established the first floating polar ice station in the Arctic Ocean, in the vicinity of the North Pole, 1937.

In the 1930s and the 1940s, the Russians began to dominate Arctic aviation. On June 18, 1937, pilot Valery Chkalov and two crew members flew a single-engine ANT 25 airplane from Moscow to Vancouver, Washington, via the North Pole. The entire flight took 62 1/2 hours, some 5,500 miles (8,851 kilometers), and established a new nonstop, long distance flight record. Within a month, another three-man crew, led by Mikhail Gromov, piloted his ANT 25 to yet another endurance record when they flew non-stop from Moscow to San Jacinto, California, by way of the North Pole, a journey of some 6,300 miles (10,139 kilometers), in 62 hours, 20 minutes. Then, on April 23, 1948, three Russian aircraft carried several scientists to the North Pole to establish a scientific base, landing at exactly 90° N latitude. It was the first time that any aircraft had ever actually touched down precisely at the North Pole. A year later, on May 9, two Soviet scientists set another record when they became the first people to parachute onto the Pole.

Otto Schmidt was appointed head of Glavsevmorput’ (Glavnoe upravlenie Severnogo Morskogo Puti) 1932-1939 - an establishment that oversaw all commercial operations on the Northern Sea Route. From 1939-1942, Schmidt became a vice-president of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, where he organized the Institute of Theoretical Geophysics (he was its director until 1949). Otto Schmidt is a founder of the Moscow Algebra School, which he directed for many years.

Schmidt was a celebrated explorer of the Arctic. In 1929 and 1930, he led expeditions on the steam icebreaker Georgy Sedov, establishing the first scientific research station on the Franz Josef Land, exploring the north-western parts of the Kara Sea and western coasts of Severnaya Zemlya, and discovering a few islands..

In 1932, Schmidt’s expedition on the steam icebreaker Sibiryakov with Captain Vladimir Voronin made a non-stop voyage from Arkhangelsk to the Pacific Ocean without wintering for the first time in history.

From 1933-1934, Schmidt led the voyage of the steamship Cheliuskin, also with Captain Vladimir Voronin, along the Northern Sea Route. In 1937, he supervised an airborne expedition that established a drift-ice research station “North Pole – 1″. In 1938, he was in charge of evacuating its personnel from the ice.

Another spectacular feat was the establishment of the first polar ice station, SP-1, the first of many floating ice stations that now dot the Arctic Ocean. On May 21, 1937, Russian polar scientist, Otto Schmidt, pilot Georgi Vodopyanov, and several crew members landed on the ice near the North Pole preparatory to establishing SP-1.

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Earlier in its career, the size and shape of the TB-3 had earned it recognition throughout the world. Thus, a number of international goodwill flights were served with the aircraft. Over the winter of 1933-1934, nine aircraft were withdrawn from the VVS. Their armaments were removed and they were painted white to represent peace. In flights of three aircraft the following summer the following journeys were made: Moscow-Warsaw Moscow (29 July-1 August); Moscow-Kiev-Vienna Paris-Lyons-Strasbourg- Prague-Moscow (5 to 17 August; both these journeys were flown by Baidukov, Yefimov and Leonov); Moscow-Kiev-Kharkov-Rome-Vienna-Moscow (5 to 16 August; pilots were Sokolov, Golovachev and Riabchenko). The visit to Rome was in response to a visit by Italian Savoia Marchetti SM-55 flying boats to Odessa.

A number of international records were set by the TB-3. In September 1936 A. Yumashev flew a TB-3 carrying a five-tonne load to an altitude of 8,116m/26,629 feet. A month later, he lifted another five tonnes to 8,980m/29,463 feet. The following year, in September, he carried ten tonnes to 6,605 metres/21,664 feet, and twelve tonnes to 2,700m/5,952 feet, each time flying a TB-3 fitted with the supercharged AM-34FRN or FRNV engine.

By the mid-1930s, a number of TB-3s were beginning to be transferred to civil aviation. The new Aeroflot directorate of Turkmenistan was equipped with several under the designation G-2 which were used to carry twenty passengers or for cargo. Also, Aeroflot’s department of Polar Aviation, better known as Avia Arktika, received four new ANT-6/G-2s in 1936. These were fitted out from the start for Arctic service; during the winter, they were fitted with skis, and they changed to wheels normally in early June for the short summer season. They also had supercharged engines, the AM-34RNs, heated cabins, and brake parachutes installed to allow short landings as well as extra emergency and rescue equipment. With them, Avia Arktika planned the first aerial mission to the North Pole.

Preparations began in March 1936 when a two aircraft survey party left Moscow to find a suitable base for the main expedition. Rudolf Island, the most northerly landpoint of the Soviet Union, was selected as ‘not perfect, but not impossible1. Later that summer, a small village was built on the island two eight-roomed houses plus a kitchen, office, radio beacon, garage, bath house and stores, as well as an aerodrome equipped with fuel storage and a ‘movable house’. And they set up ‘Severny Polus-1′ (North Pole 1), an ice-mounted station, which drifted with the polar icecap.

All this was planned by Dr Otto Schmidt, known as the Ice Kommisar. He picked Mikhail Vodopianov to head the aviation detachment. On 22 March 1937, five aircraft left Moscow with forty-three people plus supplies on board. First to go was Pavel Golovin in an ANT-7 which was to be the expedition’s survey aircraft. Four ANT-6s followed, flown by Vodopianov, Vassili Molonov, Anatoli Alekseev and Ilya Mazuruk. Two intermediate stops were made, at Arkhangelsk and Naryan Mar. They reached Rudolf Island on 18 April because of the weather delays at the closing stages of Russia’s severe winters. There they stayed for another month, although Golovin managed a few survey flights including one which brought him over the Pole. But eventually the weather improved, and on 21 May at 5 a.m., Vodopianov took off for the Pole, which he reached at 11.35. He overflew it and landed some twenty kilometres past it when he found a suitable landing strip. He radioed the conditions to Rudolf Island from his aircraft (SSSR-N170). Four days later, Alekseev arrived and landed nearby, as did Molonov on the fifth day. Mazuruk did not arrive until 5 June, landing some 50km from the Pole. One month later, all four ANT-6s headed back to Rudolf Island, leaving four research scientists on Severny Polus 1, then situated at 88°54″, 20°W. When they were picked up by two icebreaker ships the following February, they had drifted to 70°54″N and 19°50″W – just off the Greenland coast! Ivan Papanin led the team of research scientists.

One of these four aircraft, SSSR-N169, also flew on the last pre-war polar expedition in 1941. A number of other ex-military TB-3s were converted for Avia Arktika service, with the last being withdrawn in 1947. Conversion included covering over the cockpit, diverting exhaust gases to heat the interior, and fitting skis in place of wheels.

The ANT-6 started its life well ahead of any Western rival in terms of size and ability. That ten years later it was still a formidable rival is a tribute to its creators. By the time of its entry to service, Soviet aviation had come of age, and had been able to set its own standards. Unfortunately, no TB-3s or ANT-6s are preserved – all were scrapped by the mid-1950s.

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Golovin’s ANT-7/PS-7-2M17 at the North Pole in March 1937

With the original design of the R-6 dating back to 1924, it conies as no major surprise to find that by 1935 the VVS found the R-6 to be outdated, and their withdrawal from service began. But this did not mean retirement for many of them – they were handed over to Aeroflot and Avia Arktika as the PS-7-2M17 (the last indicating two M-17 engines) for passenger and cargo services, or as the MP-6-2M17 if fitted with floats.

As has already been mentioned, in 1937 an ANT-7 piloted by Pavel Golovin led Vodopianov’s five aircraft flight to the North Pole, becoming the first aircraft to overfly the pole on 5 May 1937. In the open cockpit of SSSR-N166, Golovin must have been very cold indeed.

With Aeroflot, the PS-7 saw widespread service in Siberia until the start of the Great Patriotic War.

Russian Army at Kunersdorf

The Russian army is always formidable in battle, but getting it to the battlefields and keeping it supplied is no easy task. Russian leaders are competent, and General Saltykov ranks among the best. Though its cavalry is weak, Russian infantry and artillery are top-notch, especially in a defensive role, and its Cossack light units are exceptionally adept at Kleiner Krieg [small war] destruction.

Kunersdorff stands out as the worst defeat suffered by Frederick the Great, and indeed the most devastating military catastrophe in Prussia until Jena-Auerstädt in 1806. From an army just over fifty thousand, Frederick emerged from the disaster with scarcely eighteen thousand remaining.

It was a battle he probably never should have fought. Saltykov’s Russians had mauled Wedell’s small Prussian army at Kay in late July 1759, thus opening the road to Berlin at last. Frederick tried – as he had the previous year in the Zorndorf campaign – to speed his army north to repulse the Russian threat and return to their positions facing the Austrians, all in one swift movement.

From the outset, however, things did not go his way. He failed to overtake Loudon’s Austrian corps, which was marching to Saltykov’s assistance. When he finally confronted the allied forces around Kunersdorf, Frederick realized that Saltykov had taken up a masterfully strong position, entrenching his men on a long ridge, protected by marshes, ponds, and woods that would break up the movements of any attacker. Nonetheless, as he had at Zorndorf, Frederick gambled that a heavy bombardment would soften up the defenders.

The barrage did have its intended effect on the Russian Observation Corps, which was holding the salient of the allied position, and the Prussian infantry assault finished them off, thus carrying one end of the allied line and capturing dozens of Russian guns. By 1:00 PM Kunersdorf looked very much like a Prussian victory.

The summer heat was infernal, the men were exhausted and thirsty, and several of his generals now advised Frederick to take his victory and sit tight, knowing that the allies would have to withdraw in the evening. But the king insisted on finishing his enemies off in one final, great push, and so he re-dressed his lines, brought up his guns, and drove his men forward again.

Through the afternoon the Prussians struggled through the heat and difficult terrain, as the allies resisted fiercely. Two of Frederick’s corps commanders were gravely wounded, and the tempo of the attacks began to slacken and grow confused. Finally, as an Austrian cavalry charge broke a regiment of Prussian dragoons, who then routed into the friendly infantry behind them, the Prussians began to come apart. Frederick made several attempts to stem the flood, exposing himself to extreme danger more than once, but it was no use. “My coat is riddled with musket balls,” he wrote to Finckenstein that evening, “It is my misfortune to be still alive.”

Frederick’s letter about Kunersdorf

The King wrote to Berlin on the evening after the battle: This morning at 11 o’clock I have attacked the enemy. … All my troops have worked wonders, but at a cost of innumerable losses. Our men got into confusion. I assembled them three times. In the end I was in danger of getting captured and had to retreat. My coat is perforated by bullets, two horses of mine have been shot dead. My misfortune is that I am still living … Our defeat is very considerable: To me remains 3,000 men from an army of 48,000 men. At the moment in which I report all this, everyone is on the run; I am no more master of my troops. Thinking of the safety of anybody in Berlin is a good activity … It is a cruel failure that I will not survive. The consequences of the battle will be worse than the battle itself. I do not have any more resources, and – frankly confessed – I believe that everything is lost. I will not survive the doom of my fatherland. Farewell forever!

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