Kittihawk

Like an unexpected break in a Shostakovich symphony, the grinding cacophony of production in the great Curtiss-Wright aircraft plant near the Buffalo airport clattered to a deep, silent stop one day last week. For an hour the production line stood still while Big Bill Knudsen and other national defense bigwigs dedicated a low-lying, businesslike monument to U.S. ingenuity and industrial speed.

The occasion was manufactured to give inspiration to national defense workers, comfort to the U.S.'s allies. But the achievement was real. Nine months previously the first shovelful of dirt had been turned on a site where the plant was to grow. Now it stood there complete, more than 34 acres of floor space, crowded with machine tools operated by 6,500 workmen.

Better than that, it had been in production two full months. In the crowded yard alongside the speaker's stand stood scores of lean camouflaged pursuit planes and potbellied observation planes (O-528). Close by stood the 2,000th fighter produced by Curtiss-Wright since the war began.

It was a P-40E export version (British Kittihawk). Although P-40s (British Tomahawks) are still giving a stout account of themselves in battle with Messerschmitt logs over Britain's Egyptian and Far Eastern fronts, the Kittihawk is a long jump ahead. It is slicker and leaner than the Tomahawks. From its wings bristle six .50-caliber machine guns. It has better armor for pilots and, best of all, it has a lot more speed--reputedly a top of 380-390 m.p.h.

This speed of the Kittihawk comes from a new Allison engine, the model "F." Turning out 1,150 h.p., it has 100 more horses than the old Allison "C," although smaller in overall dimensions. This engine is also in high-speed production at the Allison plant in Indianapolis. More than 550 were coming off the line every month.

Unlike the superpowered, high-altitude fighters now in the works for the U.S. Army and Navy flying services, the Kittihawk is this year's airplane, will do plenty of fighting before the snow flies. From the Curtiss-Wright plant at Buffalo, better than 250 a month are coming off the line, complete to the last machine gun. They start to grow in an older and smaller (827,000 sq. ft.) plant across town at Tonawanda where fuselages are built, engines and armor are installed. At the new airport plant wings and landing gear are added before they are flown away.

In the red fire of the dedication, pilots hurtled the old Tomahawk and the new Kittihawk across the field leaving behind them a sound like the ripping of a canvas tent. They did vertical slow rolls, snapped null over on their backs and back again to demonstrate fighting maneuverability. While their workmen-builders shouted applause they sent their speedsters straight up thousands of feet, looped, did soaring Immelmann turns, flew on their backs.

But the biggest shout went up when a pilot ripped across the field in next year's airplane, an XP-46, leaner and trimmer than its blood brothers. Still experimental, the XP-46 is Curtiss-Wright's bid for speeds above 400 miles an hour. Secret in design, it is reputedly chalking up fast performances with an old Allison "C."

Eventually it will probably be powered by a still newer 1,350-h.p. Allison. By the time it flies in battle it will almost certainly have vastly more fire power than today's Kittihawk--perhaps twice as much.

Best news of all is that when the P46 is ready for service it will call for no long wait in production. Most of its parts are like the parts that now go into the Kittihawk. To get its new 1,350-h.p. engine into production, Allison has only minor changes to make in its assembly line.

Last week, as Curtiss-Wright's flight show ended and the speakers departed, a few visitors stayed in the test yard to catch a glimpse of the youngster pilots who put on the show. But no workmen were there. They had gone back to their tools. The factory was clattering its symphony again as it does through the 24 hours of the day. Within a few months, 12,500 men will be working in the new plant and 500 of this year's fighters will be coming off the line every month: one of the reasons why Bill Knudsen was able to promise in Buffalo that last July's U.S. production of 1,460 would be raised to 3,000 a month by next summer.

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