On May 10, 1915, RFC Capt. Lewis A. Strange was at the controls of his Martinsyde Scout in pursuit of an Aviatik on reconnaissance. As the German took pot shots at him, Strange emptied a drum from his Lewis gun, which then jammed. With the stick between his knees, Strange raised himself half out of the cockpit to dislodge the empty drum. In that instant, the climbing Martinsyde stalled and flipped over into a spin. Strange was thrown clear of the machine, still clutching the drum. He dangled helplessly as his plane flew upside down in a rush toward earth. He let go of the drum with one hand and grabbed for the center section strut. Now his chin was rammed against the top wing of the plane, but his legs still gnawed at empty air—the French countryside revolving below him.
Desperately, Strange kicked toward the cockpit behind him, shattering the instruments on the dashboard. Finally, he got both feet hooked inside and edged them toward the stick. Once the stick was between his legs, he righted the Martinsyde. The maneuver, however, sent Strange crashing back into the cockpit with such force he went through his seat, jamming the controls. With the plane still hurtling downward, he cut the engine, braced his shoulders against the top fuselage, and wedged his feet against the rudder bar. Only seconds above the earth, he freed the controls, pulled out of the dive, and hurried back to his base, heedless of German ground fire.
His plane, the single-seat Martinsyde S.1, appeared in late 1914 but because of its poor stability and limited ceiling, was withdrawn from service on the Western Front in 1915. Lewis Strange fought until the war’s end, becoming a Lieutenant Colonel decorated with a Distinguished Service Order, Military Cross, and Distinguished Flying Cross.
