Back in the 1950s, the Soviet Union hailed
a marvel of their innovation—a chic, jet-powered airliner, setting the standards
as one of the initial aircraft of its kind. This creation soared through the skies
at unparalleled speeds and distances, standing as a powerful testament to the
capabilities of Soviet engineering. However, amidst the glory, a shadow of mystery
enveloped this plane. Over a series of months, there were numerous peculiar and outright
strange occurrences involving airliners identical to this one, sparking intrigue
and raising eyebrows across the board. These aircraft are experiencing
far more than typical crashes; they're being violently catapulted thousands
of feet into the air, creating a whirlwind of mystery and urgency among investigators searching
for explanations. The 1950s marked the dawn of a new era in commercial aviation, with air
travel becoming increasingly safer, swifter, and more comfortable. Those fortunate
enough had the luxury of traversing vast continents within a matter of hours or
journeying halfway across the globe in under a day. The aviation industry was basking in its
golden age, at least in the Western hemisphere. In stark contrast, aviation within the Soviet
Union presented a radically different picture. Soviet-made airliners lagged significantly behind
their Western counterparts, being a generation or two out of date. They were not only slower
and smaller but also lacked considerably in providing passenger comfort. Furthermore, their
limited range posed a substantial challenge, particularly in a sprawling country like
the Soviet Union. For instance, a flight from Moscow to Vladivostok necessitated a minimum
of six refueling stops, turning the journey into an exhausting 50-hour ordeal. Passengers had
to endure the discomfort of being in cramped, noisy aircraft that flew at lower altitudes,
unable to avoid turbulent weather conditions. In the early 1950s, the pressing need for
a contemporary and efficient airliner was palpable in the Soviet Union. Instead of
merely striving to catch up with the West, they were on the brink of taking a bold
leap into a new technological frontier. In 1952, the aviation world was taken by storm
when the British unveiled the de Havilland Comet, the world’s first jet-powered airliner. This
remarkable machine soared at speeds nearly double those of any preceding airliner, climbing fifteen
thousand feet higher into the sky. Its development was a monumental undertaking, demanding years of
extensive research and development. Despite jet engines being relatively nascent and untested
at the time, it was becoming clear that they represented the future of air travel.
Among the visionaries captivated by this innovation was Andrei Tupolev, a renowned
Soviet aircraft designer. He recognized the potential of jet engines to revolutionize
Soviet aviation, bringing it into the modern era. A jet airliner akin to the Comet could
slash flight durations by a third and make air travel accessible on an unprecedented scale.
However, the leadership in the Soviet Union had reservations. They perceived jet engines
as unreliable, excessively fuel-consuming, and costly—a luxury best suited to the
indulgent Western capitalists. Furthermore, the development of the Comet had consumed
nearly a decade and millions in resources, an investment of time and money the Soviet
authorities were reluctant to make. Despite these challenges, Tupolev was undeterred
and came prepared with a strategic plan. Tupolev assured the top Soviet officials that
he was capable of delivering a jet-powered airliner within a mere three years. His
vision was to create a reliable aircraft, boasting a greater passenger capacity than
the Comet, yet manufactured at a fraction of the price. Furthermore, a Soviet-engineered
jet airliner would serve as tangible proof of the Soviet Union's technological prowess,
showcasing to the world that they were on equal footing with the West. It was a
proposition too enticing to decline. But the question arose: How could one possibly
construct a state-of-the-art jetliner comparable to the Comet in just three years? Tupolev had a
significant shortcut in mind. His recent work, the Tu-16 bomber—a machine built to unleash
destruction over Europe—served as the foundation for his ambitious airliner project. Given
that he had just finished designing the bomber for the Soviet Air Force, he believed
he was already halfway to the finish line. To transform the bomber into a passenger airliner,
Tupolev planned to expand the fuselage. He decided to retain the bomber’s engines, despite their
lack of efficiency and somewhat noisy operation, because they were readily available. The
wings, originally designed for high-speed bombing missions, would also be reused to save
valuable engineering time, even though this meant the pilots would have to adapt to landing at
higher speeds. Similar considerations applied to the tail and vertical stabilizer, which could
largely be repurposed for the new aircraft. Tupolev smartly decided to borrow the landing
gear, avionics, and various other components directly from the bomber’s assembly
line, saving both time and resources. The heavy-duty military-grade parts amounted to
a staggering hundred thousand pounds, resulting in an exceptionally robust airliner. Named
the Tu-104, this aircraft was designed rapidly and constructed at a minimal cost.
As Tupolev was adding the final touches to his creation, it became evident that the shift towards
jet aviation was laden with complexities. By 1954, the Comet was embroiled in a series of
catastrophic crashes due to its design flaws, leading to its eventual grounding. The
aircraft was barred from commercial use for four years, leaving investigators
to unravel and address the issues. This series of events inadvertently
placed the Soviet Union in a unique position. When the Tu-104 took to the skies
for its maiden test flight in June 1955, the Soviet Union unexpectedly found itself in
possession of the world's sole operational jet airliner. Rather than proceeding with caution, the
Soviets seized the moment for propaganda gains. In 1956, while the Tu-104 was still undergoing
flight tests, a delegation of Soviet leaders boldly flew to Britain aboard the new
aircraft. The sleek and imposing airliner took many by surprise, especially aviation
experts and British journalists who were still grappling with the aftermath of the Comet's
grounding. The press was abuzz with speculation, convinced that the Soviets had miraculously
surged years ahead of the West, showcasing a design both larger and technologically
superior. For the Soviet Union, this turned out to be a tremendous propaganda victory,
bolstering their image on the global stage. The show of strength and technological
prowess didn't end there for the Soviet Union; in the ensuing months, the Tu-104 airliners made
grand appearances in cities throughout Europe, each visit greeted by awe-struck crowds
and dignitaries keen to witness Soviet innovation firsthand. The aircraft even made a
historic appearance at the 1957 Paris Air Show, marking the debut of a non-Western built aircraft
at the prestigious event. A few months on, the Tu-104 achieved another significant milestone
by flying all the way to the United States for a state visit, completing the first-ever
transatlantic crossing by a jet airliner. To the Soviets, the Tu-104 represented a colossal
propaganda triumph, and its rapid development from a bomber was hailed as an ingenious stroke
of brilliance. However, beneath the surface, the first inklings of trouble were beginning to
emerge. Flying the Tu-104 proved to be a demanding task; pilots reported that the aircraft's
controls were heavy and unresponsive. Its massive weight and significantly swept wings
made low-speed flying a particularly daunting challenge, turning landings at busy civilian
airports into nerve-wracking ordeals. Pilots, fearful of stalling the aircraft, often opted
to land at higher speeds than the plane was designed for. Coming to a stop presented its own
set of problems—the Tu-104 lacked air brakes, thrust reversers, and its wheel brakes were
inadequately powerful. In many cases, a hastily deployed parachute was the only measure preventing
the aircraft from overshooting the runway. Despite these glaring issues, the
complaints and concerns raised by the pilots were initially dismissed by the
Soviet authorities. It was not until 1958, when the airliner began exhibiting alarming
behaviors that were too significant to overlook, that the situation took a more serious turn.
The initial indication that something was amiss occurred in February, when a CSA 104 encountered
severe turbulence, resulting in both engines experiencing a flameout. The aircraft plummeted
twenty thousand feet before the pilots, in a state of frenzy, successfully reignited the engines.
A mere month later, another 104 faced tumultuous weather. This time, the aircraft was propelled
skywards, and the pilots found themselves unable to prevent its ascent to a staggering forty-four
thousand feet—well beyond its safe operational altitude. The aircraft ultimately stalled, and it
began a perilous descent back to earth, though the pilots were eventually able to regain control.
Despite these harrowing incidents, Soviet officials were quick to place the
blame on the pilots. However, the troubling occurrences persisted. In August, yet another
104 was inexplicably thrust into the sky, resulting in a stall. Tragically, this
time, the pilots were unable to recover, leading to a fatal crash. Just two months after,
a 104 en route from Beijing to Moscow found itself once again catapulted into the air. In a heroic
act, the pilot managed to radio back crucial details of the event as it unfolded. While he was
unable to save the aircraft and those on board, the information he provided proved invaluable.
The Soviet authorities could no longer turn a blind eye to this peculiar string of accidents;
it was evident that something was fundamentally wrong with the aircraft. Astonishingly,
they opted not to ground the fleet, allowing the 104 to continue its passenger flights
even as they scrambled to solve the mystery. Ultimately, investigators came to understand
that powerful updrafts, which the pilots were powerless to counteract, were the root cause of
the issue. They also realized that the aircraft’s lineage as a bomber played a significant role in
its troubles. The 104’s enlarged pressurized cabin made it susceptible to rearward shifts in its
center of gravity, depending on how the aircraft was loaded, contributing to its instability
and the challenges faced by the pilots. This inclination for the 104 to
pitch upwards during an updraft, coupled with its insufficient power to
counteract such forces, often left the pilots without recourse. Following these revelations, a
series of urgent modifications were implemented, and restrictions were put in place to limit
the aircraft’s operational altitude. However, these changes came too late for one more 104,
which encountered a potent updraft in 1959. The pilots managed to regain control, but not before
the critical design flaw had claimed 144 lives. Despite these modifications, the Tu-104
continued to accrue a substantial record of various other accidents, with runway
overshoots being particularly common due to the challenges associated with piloting the
hefty, bomber-derived aircraft. Astonishingly, nearly twenty percent of all Tu-104s produced
would ultimately be lost to accidents. The secretive nature of the Soviet Union meant that
these incidents received minimal press coverage, but word of the airliner's troubles still
spread, leading to a tarnished reputation among the flying public. The aircraft even
became the subject of a folk song in the 1960s. The British and the Soviets both paid a steep
price for their early forays into jet travel. By 1958, the de Havilland Comet had undergone
extensive redesigns and returned to service, while the Americans had introduced their
own jet airliner. Any propaganda value that the Tu-104 might once
have had rapidly dissipated. Nevertheless, the Soviet Union’s first venture
into jet-powered aviation played a crucial role in modernizing air travel within the
country. The introduction of the jet necessitated updates to air traffic control
systems, the construction of new terminals, and the extension of runways throughout the
Soviet Union. Moreover, the operational insights gleaned from the Tu-104 laid the groundwork
for future Soviet aircraft, securing its place in the annals of aviation history as
one of the pioneering aircraft of its time.
