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I struggle to translate the name of the painting - that calmning little sloshing sound made by small waves lazily splashing against a jetty, oars or the side of a motionless rowboat. The reason it’s here is because it was made by one of favourite painters, Anders Zorn, and has at least some non-flying boats - I found no Zorn with airplanes. He is maybe more famous for painting ladies with less clothes on, but they would probably break some forum rule. He is definitely less famous for the connection with the subject of this thread: In the early days of flight, the Swedish government was reluctant to divert funds towards developing military air capacity. Less so the populace at large: several fundraisers were arranged, and airplanes were bought from various sources and donated to the army or navy, each having their own budding little air force. More wealthy individuals bought a whole plane on their own. One example was the brewer Otto-Emil Neumüller who gifted a locally produced Bleriot XI on the condition that the navy arranged flying lessons for his daughter-in-law’s brother and that his own son promised NOT to do any flying - that Bleriot became the navy’s first airplane. Back to Anders Zorn: he earned well on his art - and married a wealthy merchant’s daughter as well - and in 1914/1915 he donated not one, but two airplanes, one to the navy and one to the army. They were two Farman HF23, license-built by railcar manufacturer Södertelge Workshops, who called the type SW 11 - rather smugly, considering they appear to be identical to the originals. SW would later produce their own designs, but that’s another and rather failed story. I shall be building Flying boat number VI, the Farman Zorn donated to the navy. I have not found any photos confirmed as Zorn’s plane but here is one of her or one of her sisters in full gala uniform: And before anyone says, ”actually, that’s not a flying boa...” I shall save you the embarrasment of being wrong: in typical flawless military logic, the navy operated boats, and therefore their flying machines were flying boats, no matter if they were fitted with floats, skis or wheels. The model will be built from sheet and strip styrene, scrap metal and strings. I’ve already capitulated regarding the rotary engine: it will be be sourced. I’m armed with plenty of photographs, Kronmärkt by the Leifs Hellström and Fredin and Svenska Vingar by flying journalist Torsten Gullberg, who took his flight certificate in 1917 and documented the baby years of aviation from close range - and some drawings google came up with, which seem to fit the Swedish Farmans very well.

Broplan is to relase 1/72nd Farman F.70 kits - ref. MS-201 - Farman F.70 (Polish Air Lines "Aero") Source: https://www.aviationmegastore.com/farman-f70-polish-air-lines-aero-ms-201-broplan-ms-201-airliner-modelling-kits/product/?action=prodinfo&art=147903 - ref. MS-202 - Farman F.70 (Lignes Aériennes Farman) Source: https://www.aviationmegastore.com/farman-f70-lignes-aeriennes-farman-ms-202-broplan-ms-202-airliner-modelling-kits/product/?action=prodinfo&art=147904 V.P.

SBS Model is to release 1/72nd Farman F.190 resin kits - ref. SBS7008 & SBS7009. Source: https://www.facebook.com/117380071615729/photos/a.210414378978964.51711.117380071615729/1085201908166869/?type=3&theater V.P.

The Henri Farman HF-27 was not built in any great numbers, but it saw service in a great many places, ranging from the Channel Coast to the Northwest Frontier, by way of the Aegean, Mesopotamia, Arabia, and Russia. Its first operational use was in German Southwest Africa, by South African airmen, and indeed, the fielding of a South African air contingent in that campaign, and the early production of the HF-27, were tightly entwined. Henry and Maurice Farman were pioneering pilots in the heady early days of heavier than air flight in Europe. In 1912, they combined their separate aviation ventures into a single company, with their elder brother Richard handling the business end of things. Within the fraternal firm, Henry and Maurice pursued their own lines of design, Henry's being marketed under the French spelling Henri (they were all sons of an English father and French mother resident in Paris). Henry in his designs favored rotary motors and a wing structure with an upper wing of much greater span than the lower. Maurice favored stationary motors, and a wing structure with an upper wing only slightly greater in span than the lower. Both employed the early 'propulsion' (pusher) configuration in their designs. When the Great War began, Farman aeroplanes equipped over half the front-line escadrille of the Aviation Militaire. The Henri Farman machines, however seemingly suitable in peacetime, did not stand up well to service in the field, proving too fragile for hurried operations off improvised fields, and delicate to fly in any sort of adverse conditions, owing to their maximum speed being only very little greater than their stalling speed. They were withdrawn as soon as doing so became practical, and when the French drew up a plan of standardization and expansion for their air service in October, 1914, Henri Farman designs had no place in it, though Maurice Farmans became a standard reconnaissance type, and were built in great quantity. Henry Farman set out to recoup with a fresh design. It employed steel tube for all major structural components, and employed a sturdy four wheel 'perambulator' undercarriage arrangement, with oleo shock absorbers on its rear legs. It used a Canton-Unne water-cooled radial motor, providing nearly double the horse-power of the rotary Gnome employed on his earlier products, and carried motor and fuel and crew in a simple nacelle very similar in appearance to nacelles of his brother Maurice's designs. The wings were of equal span, and the struts connecting them, of steel tube with wooden fairings, were quite long: the greatly increased gap between the wings made both wings more efficient in generating lift. Only the longeron arrangement and tail surfaces retained the familiar aspects of earlier Henri Farman machines. On occassion English documents refer to the type as an 'HF Voisin', and save for the great gap between the wings, from most angles it does indeed look very much like a Voisin. There can be little doubt Henry Farman was at least 'inspired' by the very successful Voisin III/V series, constructed with steel tube and employing the powerful Canton-Unne radial, with equal span wings and a four wheel undercarriage, in drawing up the HF-27. While Henry Farman was laying out the lines of his new aeroplane, half a world away South Africa's invasion of German Southwest Africa was collapsing in a muddle of half-measures, defeat, and rebellion. At the beginning of the Great War, English troops had been withdrawn from South Africa, leaving military affairs there to the Union Defense Force, a numerous but poorly organized body, whose largest component was a reserve known as the Active Citizens Force. It was the Royal Navy, not the South African government, which wanted German Southwest Africa invaded. The Navy wanted to prevent German cruisers loose on the high seas receiving any aid from several long-range wireless stations in the colony. Going to war against Germany on behalf of England was none too popular with the Boers of South Africa. Many harbored bitter memories of the recent war against England, in which Germany had lent the Boers appreciable support. Balanced against this was the desire for more land and greater influence which conquest of the neighboring German colony would bring. Nor would invading German Southwest Africa be an easy proposition, though it could prove quite profitable. Diamonds had recently been discovered there in commercial quantities, and the northern interior of the colony was a large expanse of dry grassland well suited to cattle-ranching. But the Atlantic coast of the colony, and its southern reaches down to the Orange River, consisted of extremely inhospitable desert. The German Schutztruppe defending the colony was far smaller than the Union Defence Force, even allowing for mobilization of men from the colony's ten thousand or so German residents, but it was highly professional, and well-adapted to desert operations. It was also almost exclusively white: German policy towards the native population had been murderous over the previous decade, and there could be no question of raising a local force of askari. South African forces were exclusively white as well, making this one of the few instances in colonial war of the period in which both sides fielded forces even predominantly European. (Schutztruppe camel detachment) General Botha, the South Arican leader, wanted to mount a three-pronged offensive. Its major component would be a force landed at Walvis Bay. This was a modest indentation on the north coast of the German colony, where a small enclave administered (but not garrisoned) by South Africa remained from an earlier English claim on the coastline. Next door, the Germans had established the port of Swakopmund, at the mouth of the Swakop River, and here one of the wireless stations was located. Gen. Botha envisioned this force striking inland to the colony's capital, Windheok, where another of the wireless stations was located. A second force would be landed at the port of Luderitz, not far north of the mouth of the Orange River on the southern coast. Luderitz was the site of the third wireless station. This force would advance into the interior along a railway line. A third force would be conveyed by sea to Port Nolloh on the South African coast just south of the mouth of the Orange River. It would march inland, cross the Orange River, which was the border between South Africa and German Southwest Africa, moving north with the initial objective of seizing the wells at Sandfontien, tho only reliable source of water for many miles north of the Orange River. This force was to be supported by a body of troops mustered locally. In the event, however, the Royal Navy was unable to provide enough transport for the scheme, and it was the northern force Gen. Botha had seen as the leading element of the invasion that had to be left go, with a naval bombardment of the Swakopmund facilities substituted. The troops from Capetown, commanded by Gen Lukin, began arriving on August 31 at Port Nolloth, while local troops were gathering at Upington, headquarters of the district commander, Col. Maritz. On September 14, Swakopmund was bombarded from the sea. The wireless there was wrecked. Simultaneously, Gen. Lukin's force seized the fords of the Orange River south of Sandfontein. (Fording the Orange River) Next day the Commandant of the Active Citizen Force component of the Union Defense Force, Gen. Beyers, resigned his commission. That evening, driving with a famous fighter of the Boer War, Koos de la Rey, Gen. Beyers encountered a police roadblock, part of a dragnet hunting a fugitive murderer. He did not stop, police opened fire, de la Rey was shot dead. Many Boers believed it deliberate assassination of a bitter opponent of English rule. On September 19, troops were landed without opposition at Luderitz, and Gen. Lukin advanced a small force to Sandfontein. The German Schutztruppe concentrated against Sandfontein, and though the post received some re-inforcement, it was overwhelmed on September 26 by German forces with a decisive advantage in artillery. (Schutztruppe field guns) Colonel Maritz at Upington had been surreptitiously in communication with the Germans for some time, and had given them details of the plans and forces at Sandfontien. He had refused orders to move to assist the beleagured force. He soon moved on to open rebellion, proclaiming the independence of South Africa early in October. There were soon some twelve thousand men under arms against English rule in the former Orange Free State, and in the Transvaal, where Gen. Beyers raised the standard of revolt. (Col. Maritz at his headquarters) Led personally by generals Botha and Smutz, loyal elements of the Union Defense Force turned to suppressing rebellion. Though after the first couple of weeks the outcome was not much in doubt, this task was not completed till early December, by which time Col Maritz and his last followers had sought refuge with the Germans, and Gen. Beyers had been shot off his horse and drowned in the Vaal River while fleeing from a loyalist column. Even as rebellion flared that October, the South African government decided the Union Defence Force required some aeroplanes, and soon. The decision at that point to see to this quickly as possible may well have owed something to the activities of two aeroplanes operating in support of the German Schutztruppe. These had, by mid-October, flown over South African troops encamped south of the Orange River, and assailed South African troops landed at Luderitz with field gun shells dropped as bombs, and leaflets urging them to join the rebellion against England . This sort of thing, widely reported, damaged prestige, made South Africa look second-rate, and in times of trouble, appearances can mean a great deal. (Roland 'Pfiel' biplane, one of the two German aeroplanes) There were a half-dozen Union Defense Force officers trained as pilots then serving with the Royal Flying Corps in France and England. The task of acquiring aeroplanes and equipment for them to employ in German Southwest Africa (under the grand title 'South African Air Corps') was allotted to the oldest among them, Lt. Gerard Percy Wallace. Born in 1885, he was the son of a Sussex clergyman and tutor. Only ten when his father died, he had followed the footsteps of his elder brother, a regular Army officer, to southern Africa. There he joined the Union Defense Force, and acquired the aeronautical bug. He was one of ten men who embarked on flight training at government expense at the Paterson Aviation School at Kimberly in August, 1913. At the time, this boasted two aeroplanes, copies of an early Farman design, though one soon crashed, killing an instructor. Wallace was one of seven who passed the course in December. He received a probationary commission as a lieutenant, and with five other graduates of the Paterson course travelled to England for further training and certification by the Royal Aero Club, which he received in early June, 1914. In November, with a probationary rank of captain, G. P. Wallace arrived in London. Told at the War Office all was in hand for his task, he discovered that in fact nothing was arranged, or even readily available. England and France were engaged in expansion of their air services, and everything in production was spoken for by one body or another. Pressing his inquiries, Capt. Wallace learned of the new type being worked on by Farmans at Paris, that would feature a steel structure most suitable for the desert conditions he and his fellows would be operating in. He met personally with Henry Farman, who was glad of an order for a dozen of the new machines before one had even been completed. In January, 1915, the first 'sample' HF-27 took to the air at Etamps, flown first by Henry Farman, and then by Capt. Wallace with Henry as a passenger. He found the machine quite satisfactory, and looked forward to delivery of the first examples at the end of February. February, however, ended without delivery of a single machine. The enterprising Capt. Wallace detailed an officer to the Farman factory to hurry on the business, and himself arranged for the acquisition of needed steel tube in England and its shipment to the Farman factory. In the middle of that harried month, he learned of the death of his older brother, killed at Nueve Chapelle. At the end of March, three HF-27s emerged from the Farman factory. On April 3rd, titanic packing crates containing their disassembled components were loaded onto the small merchant steamer SS Umvota. They were too large to go into the ship's holds, and had to be lashed down on deck. Two other aeroplanes, donated by the Admiralty, were aboard the vessel, along with Capt. Wallace and two other pilots, when it departed Portsmouth, setting sailing towards German Southwest Africa and Walvis Bay. Walvis Bay was now securely in South African hands. With the rebellion suppressed, and adequate transport available, Gen. Botha had landed two infantry brigades and a cavalry regiment in Walvis Bay on Christmas Day. Shortly after New Years Swakopmund had been seized. Botha himself arrived in Walvis Bay early in February, 1915, with still more troops: two cavalry brigades, several infantry battalions, and sufficient artillery to establish two field batteries and a heavy battery. (South African cavalry advancing in the interior) As this massive force began advancing inland up the Swakop River, the German defenders had little choice but to disengage in the south of the colony, lest they be surrounded and pinned in desert themselves. But the troops from Luderitz and the Orange River fords were close on their heels. By the end of April, the Schutztruppe was concentrated in the north before Gen. Botha's advance on the colony's capital at Windheok, and the several South African forces were all close enough to one another for effective tactical co-ordination. The German defenders had no prospect of defeating their numerous opponents now, but the South African columns, whose difficulties with supply of forage and water for their horses hampered their manouverability, had little prospect as yet of trapping their agile opponents. (Swakopmund viewed from the sea) In the night of April 30, the SS Umvota and its cargo arrived at Walvis Bay. Once that cargo was brought ashore and examined, it became clear that heavy seas encountered on the voyage had badly damaged major components of two of the Farmans. The pair of B.E.2c machines donated by the Admiralty were easier to handle and assemble, but performed very poorly in the hot air, and in any case were badly damaged in accidents within a week of their test flights. They were left unrepaired, as completing assembly of the first Farman was the highest priority. This was achieved by the last week of May, with the aeroplane being flown successfully on several occasions. On May 25, the first assembled HF-27 was flown by Lt. van der Spuy from Walvis Bay to Karibib, a town north of the Swakop River. By this time, the colony's capital Windheok was in South African hands, and the German Schutztruppe was retiring northwards, with South African forces following. Gen. Botha desired a reconnaissance to be flown over Omaruru, some thirty-five miles further on to the north, to determine if the Germans were making a stand there. Winds of 60 miles an hour blowing above 3,000 feet on the 26th made a flight to Omaruru impossible; that same day, the last German aeroplane still in working order crashed when attempting to take off from Kalkfeld to reconnoiter the rail line north of Windhoek. On the 27th, Lt. van der Spuy finally was able to fly north to Omaruru, returning to report the Germans were abandoning the town. Assembly of a second HF-27 was completed at Walvis Bay, and this was flown up to Karibib on June 12. Two more crated Farmans had arrived on the 7th, and night shifts were put on in a successful effort to assemble these quickly; both were ready for service by June 18. South African columns were advancing north, and between June 18 and June 20 the four serviceable Farmans, and attendant ground crew, concentrated at Omaruru, where the Germans had maintained an aerodrome. One of the Farmans, No. 6, was damaged past field repair when it clipped a tree coming in to land on the new field. South African columns on the 20th began moving north over a wide front, with a flying column under Gen. Myberg hooking wide to the east to get behind the retreating Germans, while a force under Gen. Lukin advanced up the rail line from Windheok towards Kalkfeld. Reconnaissances flown from Omaruru over several days revealed strong German forces initially in Kalkfeld were retreating north. Capt. Wallace was instructed to prepare a bombing attack on Kalkfeld on June 24, using field gun shells as bombs. He flew over the place for a final look beforehand, and discovered a column of South African cavalry already there, who identified themselves by laying out white cloth strips in a large 'V' as he circled overhead. To keep up with the rapidly advancing columns, Capt. Wallace ordered his men and machines on to Kalkfeld that very day. Flying in to Kalkfeld on the 25th, van der Spuy found himself landing with a tail-wind, and ran his aeroplane into a tree at the far edge of the field, resulting in great damage to the machine. The unit was soon on the move again, to Otjitasu, another thirty or so miles north by west, where the two Farmans still serviceable landed on June 28. On the 29th, reconnaissance was mingled with bombing, each aeroplane carrying eight field gun shells to be dropped on the Germans retreating up the rail-line towards Otavi. They took off from Otjitasu but landed at Brankpan, a salt flat Capt. Wallace described as 'a magnificent natural aerodrome' which he had reconnoitered by motor car the previous day. From Brankpan on the 30th a Farman was dispatched to try and locate the flying column of Gen. Myberg, which for some while had been out of touch with Gen. Botha's headquarters. On the return leg of the flight, the motor stopped, and the aeroplane was forced to land. A party sent out by truck found the machine, intact and with crew unharmed. A spare engine recently brought up from Walvis Bay was trucked out and fitted in the field. The other Farman took off on the 30th to bomb Germans near Oltavi, and the next day Gen. Lukin's column caught up to them there, and though outnumbered, hustled the Germans out of their positions into a hurried retirement to Khohab. Later that day, they were bombed by the sole remaining serviceable Farman, which this time carried two 112 lb bombs. This was pretty nearly the last hostile act of the campaign. On July 3, the German Governor sent an emmissary to Gen. Botha proposing hostilities cease, with German forces to accept internee status and retain their equipment. This Botha rejected, and as part of his demonstration he meant to continue the fight, one of the Farmans flew a reconnaissance over Khohab on 5 July. On the sixth, Gen Botha imparted his terms to the Governor's emmissary. They were generous as regards personnel, but required all weapons and equipment be surrendered, and he agreed to extend an armistice while the terms were considered. This prevented the two repaired Farmans, finally serviceable again, from being flown up from Kalkfeld to join their fellows at Brankpan. The Germans surrendered on Gen. Botha's terms on July 9th. Capt. Wallace's report on the campaign was most favorable to the HF-27, and its Canton-Unne motor. He felt the aeroplane's great weight (a ton and a half or more) moderated the effects of turbulent air over the desert, and considered its steel framing essential for operating in desert conditions. He noted the only structural element of the Farman which was wood, the struts connecting the longerons, warped badly in the heat, so that replacements had had to be continually made by carpenters in the field to keep the machines braced true. He praised the reliability of the motor, noting there had been only one instance where engine failure had forced a landing. One item of interest, touching on a 'craft' consideration largely forgotten since, was his note that, after no more than a few weeks of operation under desert sun, the fabric of the first two machines assembled had deteriorated to the point that in another fortnight they would have required complete re-covering. Further service of the HF-27 in English hands confirmed Capt. Wallace's view. The Royal Naval Air Service acquired some seventy or so of the type. Several were sent down to German East Africa, where they assisted in the reduction of the German cruiser SMS Konigsberg in July, 1915. These machines were later shipped north to Mesopotamia, where they reinforced an RNAS detatchment assisting in air-lifting supplies into the beseiged garrison at Kut-al-aram in April, 1916, finally being transfered to 30 Sqdn, Royal Flying Corps. The RNAS employed the HF-27 in the Aegean, starting in July, 1915, first in support of the effort at Gallipoli. These were generally fitted with a machine-gun, mounted on a tube frame, to which the observer in the rear seat stood to fire over the pilot's head; the gun was usually a Lewis, but one photograph shows a Vickers so mounted. Their duties ran from ranging fire for ship's guns to bombing. The redoubtable Cmdr. C. R. Samson in December of 1915 flew his HF-27 from Imbros to Constantinople carrying a five hundred pound bomb, which he aimed at a barracks in the city. A more usual load ran to a pair of 112 lb bombs, or one such, and half a dozen or so smaller missiles. Later in 1916, some HF-27s were relegated to training duties, putting the polish on newly fledged pilots just arrived in the theater. R.N.A.S. HF-27s operated on the Channel Coast as well, from Couderkirk, during 1915. They flew anti-submarine patrols, carrying two 65 lb bombs. Pilots on two occasions reported sighting and attacking a U-boat, one claiming his target had been 'blown in half', though this was never confirmed. When a force of three Zeppelins was returning from a raid on the night of June 6/7, 1915, Flt. Sub-Lt. J. S. Mills in an HF-27 sighted one of the dirigibles, followed it back to its base, and bombed and destroyed it in its shed at Evere. This was the same night Flt. Sub-Lt. Warneford bombed and destroyed a Zeppelin in the air; shortly after he was awarded the Victoria Cross for this, he died crashing an HF-27. The Royal Flying Corps acquired a batch of some twenty HF-27s during 1916. 31 Sqdn, formed for service in India, received some of these, and employed them, along with B.E.2cs, on campaigns against various Pathan tribes during 1917. One 31 Sqdn HF-27 was modified to swap the crew's places, putting the observer in the front seat and giving him an efficient machine-gun mounting, but generally the HF-27s in India caried only bombs. Several of 31 Sqdn's HF-27s were detached for service in Aden late in 1917, where they would remain in action till the end of hostilities; one was brought down by Turkish fire. 31 Sqdn passed on a further portion of its HF-27s to 114 Sqdn, when that unit formed at Lahore in November, 1917. With the close of the campaign in German Southwest Africa, the South African Air Corps was disbanded, and its pilots returned to England. There they became the nucleus for a new unit, 26 Squadron RFC, commanded by Maj. Wallace. This was shipped to German East Africa, to join in the campaign there against the German colonial forces led by Gen. von Lettow-Vorbeck. Arriving in December, 1915, 26 Sqdn fielded a mixed equipment, consisting of B.E.2c machines, and the six original Henri Farman HF-27s. In the course of operations in German East Africa, one Farman, the same one which had clipped a tree coming in to land at Omaruru, broke apart in flight, killing its pilot. The surviving Farmans were retired in January, 1917. Maj. G. P. Wallace received the Distiguished Service order in 1916. That same year his younger brother, who had obtained a commission in the Indian Army, was killed in Mesopotamia. The Russian air service acquired a number of HF-27s, though it is not known just when, or how many were purchased from Farman direct. Fifty were built on license by the Dux factory, and more than a dozen were still in front-line service in June of 1917. These were armed, mostly in manner similar to the way the RNAS armed its machines in the Aegean, though some featured a 'swapped seats' arrangement similar to that of the 31 Sqdn 'gunbus'. A variety of machine-gun types were employed.. It is claimed the crew of an HF-27 piloted by A. K. Tumansky succeeded in shooting down a German aeroplane. This model is scratch-built, in 1/72 scale. It represents one of the original Henri Farman HF-27s operated in German Southwest Africa. It is based on photographs appearing in the memoir of Keneth van der Spuy, who had a long career in the South African Air Force, literally from its beginning (he was the first of the trainees to receive Royal Aero Club certification as a pilot). Here are several pictures taken with flash and/or magnification, to show some details.... The finish is conjectural. Henri Farman employed bleached linen, and early rotary types generally used a varnish incorporating linseed oil, which stood up better to the mix of oil and exhaust fumes thrown off by such motors. This had a distinct yellow cast. It seems reasonable to suppose the same finish was employed on this new type, as it would have been on hand in quantity. Photographs of early examples show nacelle and fabric in very similar grey tones. This could indicate employment of a paint on metal or wood panels matched more or less to the color of the fabric. This became a very general French finish later, but early examples of it can be seen in photographs from 1915. Still, it is possible the nacelle is grey-blue (also a common practice, especially in Maurice Farman machines), and that it is only by chance this shows, in orthochrome photographs, a similar grey tone to the fabric. It is also possible the fabric and nacelle have both been given a coat of off-white paint (the apparent practice of the Voisin firm, and sometimes employed by the Caudron brothers, another large manufacturer of the time). I have seen one illustration of a South African HF-27 depicted as lacking any national markings whatever, and suspect this was in fact the case. English practice regarding such was in flux at the time, and Farman certainly would not have applied either roundel or Union Flag at the factory. In the campaign there was no need for nationality markings, since the aeroplanes were radically different in appearance from the familiar German pair, and in any case, by the time the South African aeroplanes were in operations, they were the only things flying. I want particularly to thank Doug, of the South African Air Force forum, who provided me several pictures from the the memoirs of Gen. van der Spuy, which made it possible to build complete this model as a South African machine, and do so with reasonable accuracy as regards the motor mounting. If you need to know anything about the SAAF, try here: http://www.saairforce.co.za/forum/index.php The account given here of the activities of the 'South African Air Corps', and of Capt. Wallace in procuring aeroplanes for it, is based on his report of same, a copy of which was sent me a gentleman who signs himself 'Nieuport11' on the Great War Forum, and I greatly appreciate his doing so. The Great War forum is largely a 'remembrance' site, but people there are extremely knowledgeable and willing to help: http://1914-1918.invisionzone.com/forums/index.php Earlier stages of the build can be traced starting here: http://www.britmodeller.com/forums/index.php?/topic/234989782-henri-farman-hf-27-steel-farman-scratch-build-in-172/

I have been working on this for a bit already, but the early work was all on the wings, and these are not too photogenic, being basically long white rectangles. But I have got some good work in on the motor and nacelle now, and have something worth showing.... The machine is quite obscure, and it has been difficult to gather sufficient information to make a stab at construction: there is not a lot out there on the thing. Here is one doubled picture that has been quite useful, to give you some idea of what the thing is supposed to look like.... My original intention had been to do an RNAS example that flew supplies into Kut, but since then, I came upon several photographs of these machines operating with No. 31 Sqdn on the Northwest Frontier from Risalpur, and for reasons including ease of markings, this seemed a good choice of subject. The picture above is from India, though I suspect it is of a derelict machine out of service but still surviving on an aerodrome (it is missing a radiator, among other things). At any rate, to start with, here are the wings (upper wing first, then lower wing), with ribs in and trailing edges scalloped, under a coat of primer.... The best photographs I can find of this show no trace of either tape or cane strips capping the ribs, and a definite 'peaks and valleys' to the surface. I have accordingly reverted to an old method of sanding and scraping the 'valleys' into the surface of the plastic, leaving raised 'ridges' between. Thin 'swizzle-stick' strips of sanding stick have been a great help in this. Scallops are cut in with a knife and regularized with a dowel wrapped in sand-paper. Rear portion of the wing surface is sanded and scraped down to get the trailing edge to a proper thin-ness. Wing were made from 1mm sheet, and cold bent to camber, with the undersurface regularized by sanding with heavy paper taped to a large pill bottle, and upper surface sanded to necessary taper to front and rear. This took very little time. Blank center on lower wing is where nacelle will go. At this point I was still contemplating assembling the wings as a unit and spitting the lower wing to insert the nacelle and central interplane struts (a better usage in this instance, I think, than cabane struts). But the more I looked at what pictures I have, the less viable this course seemed to be. At minimum, some of the nacelle was going to have to be built with the lower wing (in the manner employed by the old Revell and more recent Eduard kits of the Dh-2).... Here is a piece of 0.5mm sheet cut to the proper length and width of the nacelle, shown first upper surface, then lower surface. It is not stuck directly onto the front of the wing piece, but rather the center was notched to receive it, After seams were eliminated, a sheet of 0.25mm sheet was added as binding reinforcement. Here is the nose of the nacelle floor shaped, and a false start on the nacelle structure (at this point my idea was to do the portion of the nacelle structure that involved the central interplanes, and then proceed to do the wings as a unit...). But it just did not feel right somehow, and so I put that line aside and set to the motor, a nine cylinder Canton-Unne/Salmson water-cooled radial. Here is the basic blank completed.... The crankcase disc is a laminate of three circles of 1mm sheet (easier to keep sides straight that way, slants can develop easily on a thick piece). I used an old 9 cylinder radial from the spares box as a template for orienting the cylinders. The basic cylinder is a length of 2mm rod, the cap at the head is a disk of 2.5mm rod. In fastening these, I put holes in the cranckcase and in the base of the cylinder, and applied CA gel; this squeezes into the holes and form a plug which functions pretty much like a pin, and makes for a joint that can stand up to some handling much better than a straight butt joint. The actual dimension of the circles in the template are a half millimeter greater than their printed diamenter as allowance is made for the width of the pencil point, so the actual dimension of the peace is about 13.25mm. Here is the engine with some basic detail, front and back, and painted.... But the engine could not really be taken further at this point until I had its bearers arranged, as I have to be sure the various water and fuel pipings would be clear of the bearers.... After further study of photographs of examples used by the RFC/RNAS, it became clear to me that the drawing I have (a 1/144 scale effort in the Davilla and Soltan book of French Aircraft of WWI) cannot be relied on at all in a most crucial area, namely the rear of the nacelle and the engine mounting. The drawing does show some features which appear in photographs of machines in Russian service, and for all I know there may have been extensive modifications of the engine arrangements made by the Dux factory, and so it could be possible the drawing accurately reflects such, but be that as it may, I realized I would have to proceed on the basis of photographs in this area, which is key to the entire build, to do an RFC machine.... So last weekend, I took up the nacelle again, resolved to ignore everything but my scanty stock of photographs and what made sense to me as likely features of aeroplane construction and design in the period (I like to think my WAGs have at least a bit of education behind them...). I decided, too, that it would be better to start with the sides of the nacelle, rather than its interior structure. So I cut a long strip of 0.25mm/10thou sheet, and trimmed out of it two lengths running from the rear of the covered portion to where the bend begins... Though I had not planned to, at this point, since I had enough strip remaining which I knew was identical in height, I decided to plunge on ahead and do the nose portion as well.... A sharp bend got the 'point' and pressing with a tweezers got the rest of the rough shape. Lying this over the piece got me some pencil lines for cutting, and once it seemed to fit glue was applied, to the bottom and the mating edges. Wife lent a third hand here, as both mine were fully occupied holding the wing the new bit in place at the proper curves, and she dropped a good deal of accelerator onto the general area. Things held well, and then it was just a matter of a bit of patching in a small gap on the port side and general seam cleaning, inside and out.... I started the internal structure with 0.5mm rod laid around the joint of floor to sides. I then started on the verticals. My intention was to do just the portion of the forward central interplanes that were under the rim of the nacelle, but I used a longish bit of 1mmx0.5mm rod to do so, figuring this would be easier to align and that I could trim it down later. But it seemed so well aligned with the locating holes for the rest of the struts that I figures to go with the flow, and trimmed it of at the proper strut length (27mm from the lower wing surface). I put in its mate on the other side, and built both up with an additional length of 1mmx0.25mm strip, and proceeded to do the rest of the structure of the crew area of the nacelle.... (the brown wash is mostly to show the strruture, but will, I epect, show though the interior coloring later) I then did the structure in the rear portion of nacelle (which contains the fuel tanks and bears the radiators, and the motor itself), including the rear central interplanes.... At this point, I gave the upper wing a shot at resting on the central interplane struts, and am reasonably happy with their spacing and alignment.... Next will be the nacelle interior (it is almost completely open), the nose cap and engine bearers, and final detailing of the engine....

My second planned entry to this GB Very good inbox review and analysis http://www.internetmodeler.com/2005/august/first-looks/Azur-Farman.php And yes - I'm planning to address all the issues mentioned in the article above Meanwhile - does anybody have an idea where to obtain Air Magazine issues 21 and 22? I can obtain any other but these two - it seems like these particular issues are carefully kept in the vaults of Farman lovers.