Darius and Girenas, Bridges Issue 5

Stephen Darius was the son of Jonas Jucevicius-Darasius. (It was not unusual in Lithuania at that time for a family to have two last names separated by a hyphen.) After his father died, his mother married a gentleman named Degutis. Adjusting to their new life in Chicago, his brothers and sisters took the name of Jucevicius and changed it to Jucius. Stephen, on the other hand, decided to take Darasius as his surname, but changed it to Darius in 1917.

Stanley Girenas was the youngest of 16 children of Juozas Girskis. His parents and most of his brothers and sisters died during his childhood. He came to Chicago with his brother Petras, and later changed his name to Girch. When he and Darius were making plans for their flight to Kaunas, Darius asked him if he would change his surname, Girch, to a more Lithuanian-sounding name. Stanley did so by choosing the name of Girenas.

If these two gentlemen had not changed their original family names, then we would be commemorating the 65th anniversary of the flight of Darasius and Girskis. Then again, if Stanley hadn't decided to change his name to Girenas, these two fliers would be honored as Darius and Girch.

Darius served in France during World War I with a field artillery unit and was awarded two medals for bravery in action. Not only was he wounded, but he suffered from the effects of poison gas that the Germans used during the battles. Girenas did not go overseas; instead, he was stationed at an airbase in Texas where he served as an airplane mechanic.

When the war ended, Darius went to Lithuania as a volunteer to help the young Lithuanian army fight its hostile neighbors who threatened its independence. He learned to fly and became a military pilot here. He married and had one child, Nijole. When he decided to return to the United States in 1927, his wife did not want to go with him. She remained in Kaunas with their daughter.

On his way home, Darius stopped in Paris and witnessed Charles A. Lindbergh complete his historic non-stop flight from New York. This event was the catalyst for the Lithuanian-American Trans-Atlantic flight.

Girenas, on the other hand, received his honorable discharge from the army and returned to Chicago. A few years later, he began taking flying lessons and became a licensed commercial pilot. He never married. It seems his greatest love was aviation.

The Adventure Is Planned

Girenas first met Darius after he returned to Chicago. Darius shared his ideas of a Trans-Atlantic flight with him. Girenas liked the idea and agreed to be his co-pilot. They pooled all of their savings together and bought a used six-passenger airplane, a Bellanca. It needed extensive modifications to enable it to fly to Kaunas non-stop as planned. This required more money; something that they did not have.

Representatives from various Lithuanian organizations and newspapers held a meeting in the Lithuanian Consulate offices in Chicago. They organized a Flight Sponsors Committee, and elected fund trustees who would organize and coordinate all of the fund-raising activities. The ownership of the airplane was transferred to the fund with the agreement that it would revert back to the pilots after the flight. Committees of flight sponsors were organized in many other Lithuanian communities throughout the United States. To raise enough money was no easy task, since the United States at that time was in the middle of the Great Depression with an unemployment rate at about 25 percent. The Fund raised approximately $4,200 in 1932.

A t l a n t i c F e v e r

This period in American aviation history, in the years that followed the end of the First World War, can best be described as "Atlantic Fever". Young fliers sought new conquests of the air. The greatest challenge of that time was to fly over the Atlantic Ocean. It is difficult to realize the price that those pioneers had to pay. From 1919 to 1932, 26 pilots perished out of 84 attempted flights. In 1932 alone, six out of eight attempted flights ended in failure. Darius and Girenas wanted to fly non-stop from New York to Kaunas to make Lithuania famous, and to "put it on the map."

Their planned flight was primitive in comparison to today's ocean-crossing jetliners, which are equipped with the latest high-tech and computerized navigational systems. The LITUANICA had only a compass to guide them in the right direction. It had no radio because there was no money available to buy one. To aid them in calculating their exact location, they took a navigator's sextant, four special watches, charts for celestial navigation, and maps.

The maintenance work performed on the LITUANICA was brought to as near perfection as possible in those early days of aviation. Darius and Girenas were helped by their own mechanic, Victor Yesulaitis, whowas a licensed aircraft mechanic and a licensed pilot himself. He took care of the airplane while it was in Chicago, and stayed with it until the morning it took off for Kaunas.

The weight of the airplane, when fully loaded, is a critical factor in determining its ability to get off the ground safely. Darius and Girenas knew that. In order to carry as much gasoline as they could, they did not take any parachutes, life preservers, or a life raft. Fully loaded, the LITUANICA weighed 8,300 pounds. Because of that weight, there was the danger of the tires overheating and blowing up during take-off. It was a risk that Darius and Girenas were aware of, but it was a risk they felt they had to take. In effect, the LITUANICA became a "flying gasoline tank".

The plotted distance between New York and Kaunas was 4,466 miles. If the weather conditions were good, they hoped to reach Kaunas in about 40 hours. The gasoline on board was enough to last 44 hours and a half. Should they encounter bad weather or if they made a navigational error, they felt there was sufficient fuel to last them an additional 500 miles.

How many pilots today would be willing to fly across the Atlantic Ocean in an airplane powered by one single, nine-cylinder engine, no radio, and with only a compass as its primary means of navigation?

With the additional funds, Darius and Girenas were able to purchase a new and more powerful engine, make alterations to the wings, add additional fuel tanks, and install stronger landing gear with larger tires to help carry the extra weight. Other major work was completed, too. After going through this expense, there was no extra money available to purchase the latest navigational equipment, a radio, or a controllable pitch propeller. Even without these items, Darius and Girenas were confident that their mission would succeed.

It is a tradition in aviation that an airplane should be named, and not be known just as a number. The rebuilt Bellanca was given the number NR688E; the letter "R" meant that it was restricted, could not carry passengers, and was to be flown only by the crew. The pilots' original choice for a name was LITHVEGA, meaning Lithuanian star. Vega is the brightest star in the summer sky visible from the mid-northern latitude. The Flight Sponsors Committee finally approved the name LITUANICA, suggested by Mr. Anthony Vaivada of Chicago, because it represented all Lithuanian interests, ideas, and culture.

A Questionable Beginning

On May 6th, 1933, the airplane was christened at Chicago's Municipal Airport, now called Midway. Prelate Krusas performed the christening ceremonies, and Darius's mother, Mrs. Anna Degutis, carried out the traditional honors by smashing a champagne bottle on the propeller hub. The following morning, the LITUANICA left and headed east for its date with destiny.

The pilots landed at Newark Airport in New Jersey and, that evening, attended another farewell banquet. The next day, May 8th, they took off again, but this time it was a short trip to nearby Floyd Bennett Field - that was New York's Municipal Airport at that time. Members of the press and the airport's manager greeted them. The manager invited them to be guests of the City of New York, to stay at a hotel in Coney Island, and to use Hangar No. 7 for their airplane, all at no charge. All of the Trans-Atlantic fliers were treated in the same courteous manner.

What had been an anticipated short time until take-off, the pilots' departure was delayed until the middle of July. The biggest problem was that the U.S. Department of Commerce had to give the pilots their approval for the flight. In addition, they also had to receive authorization from the countries on their flight path, in the event of an unplanned emergency landing en route. All of this paperwork was time consuming. The days dragged on into weeks, and by now the fliers were getting frustrated and restless. They were willing to take off without authorization from anybody. However, the bad weather along their planned route prevented them from taking any action.

On June 15th, the LITUANICA had company in its hangar. Wiley Post, a well-known and famous air pioneer, arrived at Floyd Bennett Filed with his airplane, the WINNIE MAE, for his flight around the world. He, too, could not leave because of unfavorable weather over the Atlantic. Just like Darius and Girenas, he had to wait until conditions improved.

On the evening of July 14th, Darius and Girenas heard that Wiley Post was going to leave early in the morning for Berlin. They were elated. This meant that the weather over the Atlantic finally improved, and they made plans for leaving, too - even though they did not have approval from the Department of Commerce to do so. A bag of letters was brought to the Brooklyn Post Office where they were postmarked and then put on board the LITUANICA for delivery in Kaunas.

Darius and Girenas arrived at the field about 4:30 in the morning on July 15th. They walked up to Wiley Post and wished him good-luck. Many newspapermen and cameramen were already there to witness Post's take-off. In the meantime, the LITUANICA was being fully loaded with fuel and oil, drinking water, coffee, sandwiches, fruit, some tools, and the mail bag. This activity aroused the airport manager's curiosity, who asked Darius what was going on with the LITUANICA. Darius told him that it was going up for a test flight to check out the airplane under fully-loaded conditions.

An hour before Post's take-off, Paris sent a cable warning that bad weather was developing over Europe, and that a storm was gathering force in southern Europe and moving northward. Post figured out that since the average speed of the WINNIE MAE was about 180 miles an hour, he would be in Berlin before the bad weather came in.

The meteorologist explained to Darius and Girenas that the LITUANICA would only be flying at about 100 to 125 miles an hour. They would be caught in the bad weather long before they could get to Kaunas. Despite this advice, they took off an hour or so after Post. Why they did so is difficult to say. Perhaps they were fed up with waiting for better weather conditions. Perhaps they thought that by the time they got to that point, the weather would possibly change for the better. As later events proved, the meteorologist was correct.

With Darius at the controls, the LITUANICA started its engine and began its long journey to Kaunas. The engine roared at full power as it began to roll down the runway. Those who witnessed the take-off began to feel uneasy, and were alarmed because the airplane was approaching the end of the mile-long runway and was still not airborne. Finally, ten feet from the edge of Jamaica Bay, the LITUANICA slowly cleared the water by a few feet as it slowly began to gain altitude.

They had the closest brush with disaster in the history of the field. Their flight almost ended, even before it began.

The Last Sightings

The LITUANICA was sighted over a town in Northern Germany late in the evening of July 16th, heading northeast. Since the airplane was painted a bright orange color, it probably made it easier to identify. As they approached the Polish border, they met heavy rains, and this bad weather made a change in course necessary. Now flying in a southwesterly direction, they were spotted flying low near a Nazi concentration camp, 120 miles northeast of Berlin, several minutes past midnight. They continued on in the same direction and approached the town of Soldin, circling the area apparently looking for a place to land. It is entirely possible that when they noticed a meadow beyond the forest's edge, they decided to take a chance and set down there.

A farmer living near the forest said he heard an airplane flying at low altitude, and then a resounding crash. Because of the bad weather, the farmer went back to sleep. He said it was raining, foggy, with low clouds.

The smashed remains of the airplane were found the next morning by some peasant women as they went to gather berries or mushrooms. Darius's body was lying beside the wreckage; while, the body of Girenas was still in the cockpit. A flashlight was still shining, and one of the watches was stopped at 36 minutes past midnight - indicating the possible time of the accident.

German troopers arrived at the scene and stood guard at the crash site to prevent looting, but not before "souvenir hunters" carried away some parts of the plane. What was left of the LITUANICA, the bodies of the pilots, their personal belongings, and the mail bag were brought to Kaunas with the cooperation and help of the German government. The post office delivered the mail to the designated recipients.

Speculations

The disaster which almost took place in New York, took place 37 hours and 11 minutes later in a forest in Soldin, Germany. Darius and Girenas were only 404 miles short or less than four hours of flying time from reaching Kaunas. Even though they failed to achieve their goal, they had conquered the Atlantic Ocean, which was a feat in itself. Their flight was the second longest in the history of aviation at that time, as far as distance was concerned. They were the first to carry airmail to Europe.

What was the actual cause of the crash? That was the agonizing question that everyone was asking and trying to find the answer to.

Notes that Darius took in his log book, which was found in the wreckage, indicated that they passed over northern Scotland and were apparently heading for the North Sea and Kiel, Germany in the face of a severe storm. No further entries were made after that.

The press in Western Europe and the United States printed stories that the LITUANICA may have been shot down by the Nazis because it strayed too close to a concentration camp. This was and still is conjecture. The Lithuanian government appointed a board of inquiry to investigate and determine the cause of the crash.

Two distinguished medical professors, Doctors Ozelis and Zilinskas, performed a thorough examination of the pilots' bodies, recorded the results, and signed a statement. In a statement signed by Dr. Ozelis in 1959, who was living in the United States at that time, he stressed that no bullets or bullet wounds were found on the bodies of either pilot.

A close examination of the wreckage and various components of the engine and propeller by Lithuanian Air Force officers concluded that the disaster occurred due to difficult weather conditions combined with some defects in engine operation.

There are two other possibilities that should be considered when trying to determine why the flight ended the way it did. One is pilot fatigue. After flying for a little more than 37 hours in a cramped and noisy airplane, their chances of getting much sleep or rest -- or even to relax for a moment -- would be either slim to none. The LITUANICA wasn't exactly a sound-proof airplane. They were under constant pressure to stay on course using celestial navigation, which requires clear weather. Besides watching the flight instruments, fuel and oil gauges had to be monitored. There was enough work for them to do.

Then there is the possibility of an inaccurate altimeter: a flight instrument that shows the pilot his altitude. Any error in that measurement could be disastrous when you consider the fact that the LITUANICA skimmed the treetops in that forest before crashing.

Not To Be Forgotten

Their courage and determination to fly non-stop to Kaunas, regardless of the dangers involved, made them national heroes and set an example for the youth of Lithuania to follow. A grief-stricken nation memorialized her fallen heroes in many ways.

Many streets, bridges, and squares in Lithuania were renamed after them. Musical pieces and poetry were written, sculptures and medals were made, and postage stamps were issued to honor them.

The Aero Club of Lithuania placed a wayside shrine where Darius's body was found, and erected a monument of white granite on the exact spot of LITUANICA's wreckage. The dedication ceremonies took place on July 17th, 1936 with representatives attending from the Lithuanian and German governments. The Lithuanian wayside shrine and monument were badly neglected for decades and were somewhat damaged. Restoration of the monument and the installation of a new wayside shrine were completed not too long ago. These restorations were made possible by donations from Lithuanians living in Poland and other countries. The town of Soldin, the scene of the tragedy, was changed by the Polish government to Mysliborz in 1945.

There were plans for a Darius-Girenas monument in Kaunas, but it was never built due to the war. The committee in charge of the project selected, instead, the 265-ton rock named Puntukas to memorialize to pilots and a portion of their Flight Testament. Located in a meadow outside of Anyksciai, it is one of Lithuania's popular tourist attractions and best-known landmark. The sculptor Pundzius worked here at great personal risk to himself and his assistants during the German occupation. He completed his masterful job in time to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the flight in July of 1943.

One part of the War Museum in Kaunas is devoted entirely to Darius and Girenas. Behind a glass-enclosed wall, the LITUANICA crash site was reconstructed with the airplane wreckage portrayed as it was found. On the other side of the room are uniforms the pilots wore during the flight, their shoes. Darius's log book, maps, and other personal belongings. Close examination reveals Stanley J. Girch's name on a Commercial Pilot's License. Apparently he did not have the time to change this document to the name of Girenas before the flight.

The pilots' bodies were returned to Lithuania by the German government and following a state funeral, the coffins were placed in a mausoleum at the Catholic Cemetery in Kaunas. During the war-time German occupation of Lithuania, the coffins were secretly sealed, for safety reasons, in a basement chamber of the Faculty of Medicine building. After the war was over, their location was tracked down, and Darius and Girenas were buried in 1964 at the Soldiers Cemetery in the Aukstiejieji Sanciai part of Kaunas.

To commemorate the 60th anniversary of their flight, the monument that could not be made before the war was finally built in 1993, according to the original 1937 designs and plans of sculptor Pundzius. It was dedicated and unveiled on July 17th: the anniversary of the day Darius and Girenas died. The sculpture is made of bronze and weighs three tons. The monument, including the pedestal, stands 75 feet high and is the tallest one in Lithuania. It is located in Kaunas, not far from the Darius-Girenas Stadium.

On June 14th, 1993, the Lithuanian government introduced its national currency - the litas - and one of its denominations honors Darius and Girenas. The ten litas note has a picture of the pilots on the front side and a picture of the LITUANICA on the other side.

It is quite evident that the Lithuanian people have the greatest love, respect, and admiration for Steponas (Stephen) Darius and Stasys (Stanley) Girenas. These sons of Lithuania have earned their place in history and will never be forgotten.