American cinematographer (Aug 1936)

330 American Cinematographer • August, 1936 Charles A. Marshall, A.S.C. of consideration. So I sot there—for the split seconds that seemed hours. Motors of the other planes roared in my ears, drowning out sound of my own ship. I braced myself for the shock of collision. My ear-drums tensed to withstood I'he impending nose-on crash of wood, metal and fabric. Somehow, we filtered through that blanket of planes. We missed one by not more than five feet; I could have reached out and grabbed its ailerons. My pilot leveled out and turned his head for my ap- proving nod. But I wasn't nodding just then. When we landed, I patiently explained that cameras are expensive and the studio would be greatly perturbed to lose one just because of some pilot's quaint desire to have two planes occupy the same area of air at the same time. Then we went up again and made the shot as scheduled. There's the superstitious adage regarding unpleasant events being bracketed in threesomes. I don't believe it, but— Next evening we were making tests with two-hundred- and-fifty-thousand candlepower flares. As we were roll- ing down the take-off strip at some fifty miles an hour, one of them slipped from place and ignited just about two feet back of my neck. I didn t tarry to investigate the matter. I went away from there—out of the cockpit Shooting Thri s B eing a stunt cinematographer has its thrills—and its recompenses. For one thing, the life insurance agents don't pester me. In making air shots almost anything can happen—and usually does at the most unex- pected moment. As the saying goes, it's great fun if you live through it. We were making "West Point of the Air" for Metro- Goldwyn-Mayer in 1934 at Randolph Field. I figured out what I thought would be an effective style to introduce the locale. On the ground, in white letters fifteen feet tall, is the name RANDOLPH FIELD. I arranged to have a formation of forty-eight planes fly above these letters. From another plane, higher and flying at a slight down- ward angle, I was shooting head-on catching the impres- sive air armada and its shadows on the ground. As the rear plane passed beneath us, my plane was to nose down enabling the camera to pick up the letters dis- played below. Rather an effective way of opening the picture, we reckoned. All went well with the exception of a slight deviation from original plans. My pilot got ahead of schedule. Eyes glued to his sights centered on the ground letters, he for- got all about the cluster of planes below him and went into his nose-dive while the air was still densely populated in the lower level. Down he went, roaring into the center of that speeding formation. He wasn't aware of what he was driving into but the same can't be said for me. From my perch in the rear cockpit I had complete and unobstructed view of the situation. I was hurtling near- ly straight down at the rate of one hundred and sixty miles an hour. Some eighteen formation planes doing ninety still were to cross our projected line of descent. There was nothing I could do about it. A mere five hundred feet of altitude made recourse to parachute out ts Exciting Moments by Charles A. Marshall, A.S.C. headfirst, rolled over on the ground a few times and watched the fire crew extinguish the blaze. On the following day, my pilot ground-looped while landing. Gasoline tanks ruptured. I extricated myself and raced through knee-high pools of gasoline to a near- by watertank. It required no effort to recall what hap- pens when a spark hits exposed gasoline. But we carried on merrily and in due course the film hit the world's screens. "Hell Divers" provided its quota of thrills, but ot dif- ferent kind. At three-hundred miles an hour we made vertical power dives from twelve thousand feet down to about one thousand. I stood in the rear cockpit manipu- lating the camera. We made twenty-five of these dives before we had just the picture wanted. The first dozen were somewhat hair-raising, I confess. Like the fisherman, I maintain my best shot got away from me. We were at Honolulu doing "Hell Below." My assignment was to film a navy bombing-plane letting go two giant bombs. Dummy sandbags were loaded on and we cruised in search of suitable background of cloud for- mations. The skies were especially bountiful that day. Each setting seemed better than the other. In the dis- tance I spied a cloud and light combination that beggars Continued on page 336