by Daniel D. Whitney.
470 pp, 9 x 11 in, hard-cover. Index, appendices, notes.
B/W, line drawings.
Schiffer, 1998. US $59.95
While one hesitates to declare any book the last word on any subject in these days when no subject seems too obscure for publishers or authors, I suspect that there may, in fact, be very little left to say now that this lavish account of the history of the Allison V-1710 has appeared. While the book, sadly, has its faults, like so many of the titles Schiffer publishes, it is nonetheless among their most valuable.
Mr Whitney traces the history of the Allison piston engines from their origins in a wealthy enthusiast's race-car shop at the Indianapolis Speedway, through initial designs intended for use in Navy airships, through use in the famous P-39, P-40, and early P-51s, to the two-stage supercharged, 2200-hp V-1710-143/145 used in the post-war F-82 Twin Mustangs and the fabulous, 3090-hp, V-1710-127 turbocompound engine. A substantial subsection of the book discusses the V-3420, which was essentially a pair of V-1710s joined side-by-side in a common crankcase. The development of details such as reduction gears, supercharger drives, intake manifolds, and backfire screens is discussed clearly yet minutely with lavish illustrations drawn from technical manuals and engineering documents. But, more impressively, this technical detail is neatly related to the business development of the firm, its acquisition by General Motors, and its relations with its only significant customer, the United States Army Air Force.
Concern for the relations between engineering decisions, business concerns, and history is a major strength of this book. In perhaps the most enlightening and impressive parts of his narrative, Mr Whitney traces both the engineering success and the commercial failure of Allison engines to the nature of the Allison organization itself. Again and again, pure engineering drives company decisions, without regard to markets, demand, or financing. Whitney's discussion of the V-3420 is typical. Whitney notes that the V-3420 was the only engine of this type ever to be truly successful in an engineering sense, a fact he attributes to the firm's origins as an uncompromising precision machine shop and its long association with General Motors. He points out that Allison's British and German counterparts—Rolls-Royce, Napier, and Daimler-Benz—all relied on hand-finishing and hand-fitting during final assembly. As a result, changing components in the field required the services of skilled engine fitters and machinists. In contrast, Allison's engines were designed for mass-production, much like GM automobile engines, with fully interchangeable parts and modular subassemblies. Each set of components was designed from the first for use in multiple engine configurations. In the V-3420, this level of interchangeability eliminated most of the variables that plagued Rolls-Royce's double Kestrel (the ill-fated X-24 Vulture) and Daimler's DB606. Everything just worked. So the engine's failure to attract military and commercial orders has always seemed puzzling, particularly since it offered the power of the B-29's fire-prone Wright R-3350 radials with significantly lower weight and drag penalties. But, unfortunately, the Allison's engineering perfection—in particular its low-drag water cooling, its extensive provisions for turbocharging, and its tremendous power potential—mitigated against its widespread adoption by the airline industry, which was known to prefer cheaper air-cooled radials. As a result, Allison found itself limited to a narrowly military market at a time when the military had little money for development and almost none for production. Then, when war came, Allison's engines could not be produced as rapidly as the well-established and familiar radials. When the need for which the V-3420 had been designed at last arose and the services cast about for 2000- to 3000-hp fighter engines, they not surprisingly preferred enlarged versions of well-tested radials—like the R-2800 and R-4800—to the technically excellent but by now unconventional and untried V-3420.
The great virtues of Mr Whitney's book are, unfortunately, offset by lesser though still significant defects, all of which may be set down to shortcomings in the publisher as much or more than any fault in the author. Schiffer books always seem lavishly and expensively printed, but shoddily edited. This volume is an exception only in that the problems are actually worse than usual. As in many of the publisher's titles, typographical errors and grammatical faults abound, sometimes to the point where the meaning of the text is actually compromised. But, worse, the text is seriously disorganized, as if an early draft were rushed into print unread. There is considerable overlap between sections, lots of repetition, and a confusing arrangement of chapters that at times seems as if two separate drafts and two very different outlines were randomly interleaved. In places, cutting and pasting seems to have made the text unintelligible. Such failings are almost inexcusable in a book in this price range: any minimally competent copy editor should have been able to block out the required changes in, at most, a couple of hours. As it is, only the fundamental clarity of the writer's basic themes saves the book from complete confusion—the story shows through, despite the tattiness of the narrative that conveys it.
That said, Vee's for Victory! is an extremely interesting and informative volume that will interest anyone interested in aeronautical development, aeroengines, or World War 2 aviation history. Much that was previously obscure in the history of American fighter development becomes clear, even, obvious, once you have read this book.
Highly recommended.