Baroness Raymonde de Laroche

By Jennifer Conner (21 March 2005)

In an era when it was rare to see women driving motor cars, the French actress Baroness Raymonde de Laroche made an extraordinary leap to become the world's first licensed female pilot. Perhaps it was a natural progression for Elise Deroche, the daughter of a plumber who later assumed the more elegant name and title of Baroness Raymonde de Laroche, and who sought adventure at every turn. By the time she was 23 she had become a recognized actress, an accomplished balloonist, motor car driver and painter.

When the famous French aviator and aircraft designer Charles Voison offered to teach the Baroness to fly, she accepted with alacrity. Flight instruction in those days was a rough and ready process. The Voisin aircraft was a one seater, which meant the Baroness took the controls while her instructor shouted instructions from the ground below. Nevertheless, on October 22, 1909, the Baroness soloed - an event many sources label the world's first solo flight by a woman.

Whether she was actually the first woman to solo or not may never be known. But it is certain that when the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale issued the Baroness pilot license No. 36 on March 8, 1910, she had become the first female licensed pilot in the world.

After flying as part of the Voisin team at an aerial demonstration in Egypt, flying for Czar Nicholas II in St. Petersburg, and other aerial performances, she entered the competition at Rheims, France. There she was involved in a serious crash. Recuperation grounded the Baroness for almost two years. Once recovered, she continued to fly in numerous aviation events until the outbreak of World War I when all French female pilots were grounded for the duration. Returning to the air in 1919 she set two women's altitude records and a women's distance record.

Ambitious to become a test pilot, on July 18, 1919 the Baroness de Laroche was a passenger in an experimental aircraft when it crashed - killing both the Baroness and the pilot. She is memorialized by a statue at Le Bourget airport in Paris.

So what was it like?

Aside from being a woman in what would long remain very much a masculine preserve, what was it like? Flying those early machines? Thanks to MSFS, we can at least get a sense of the challenge. Most interesting of the many pre-war air races was the 1911 Circuit of Europe race. The 1965 film, Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines is loosely based on this race. Still recuperating from injuries sustained in her earlier crash, the Baroness missed the Circuit of Europe - but we can fly in her place.

There are a number aircraft of the day available for MSFS. I recommend the excellent Bleriot XI model by Jo LoGrasso (BLERXI.ZIP). The route proved more troubling as many of the grass airfields used in the Circuit of Europe Race are now covered by acres of concrete and asphalt. Others have disappeared completely. Paris Vincennes, where the race began and ended, is now a race course, for example. There is also some disagreement among the sources as to the actual route flown. I turned to the pilots of the Virtual Pilots Association (www.virtualpilots.org), a small, but dedicated group whose collective knowledge of aviation borders on encyclopeadic. With their help, I came up with a list of airfields which well represented the 1911 Circuit of Europe airfields and would allow a faithful recreation of the route. To fly realistically, you need a good map - the Bleriot has no instruments and navaids are years in the future. I randomly picked weather saved in my ActiveSky2004 files. If the weather looked good at the origin and destination, I flew. If it looked questionable - I'd wait for the next day. Forecasting was in its infancy, so checking the forecast is "cheating". When I flew, I only got caught by bad weather once as a rapidly moving storm front arrived at Brussels before I did.

Leg 1: Paris Vincennes, France to Liege, Belgium

Take off from Lognes (LFPL) and fly northwest to Theux (EBTX). Although only 163 miles, it takes a while as the Bleriot is only capable of about 50 mph in calm air. Absent any charts or navigation aids of any kind, we rely on a good Michelin road map and the add-on Roads and Railways for navigation. This is much harder than it sounds and in 1911 fewer than half the 42 pilots who started completed the first leg. One ended up in Germany. Grass strips are notoriously difficult to spot from a distance and I spent at least 10 minutes circling around before I spotted Theux.

Leg 2: Liege, Belgium to Utrecht, The Netherlands

Leaving Theux (EBTX) we turn north towards Hilversum (EHHV), just 15 miles southeast of what is now the massive Schiphol airport complex. Evidently following the wrong road, I spot Schiphol ahead and turn right. Within 10 minutes, Hilversum is in sight. A straight-in landing that does nothing for my piloting reputation as the aircraft rolls to a stop only 20 odd feet from a rather large tree - wheel brakes and ground steering haven't been invented yet.

Leg 3: Utrecht, The Netherlands to Brussels, Belgium

From Hilversum (EHHV) it's a relatively short hop to Grimbergen (EBGB), 80 miles to the southwest. An easy leg, it seems. But that turns out not to be the case. I become thoroughly lost over Brussels. Worse yet, the weather degenerates rapidly and it starts to rain. I'm starting to feel like a ping-pong ball in a clothes dryer as I circle the outskirts of the city trying to find my bearings. Finally, Grimbergen appears below and, somewhat soggy, I land.

Leg 4: Brussels, Belgium to Roubaix, France

With good weather, the 50 mile trip west to Marcq-en-Baroeul (LFQO) is uneventful. The luck of the Irish is with me for a change and I fly almost directly to the airfield, which, surrounded by small buildings, sticks out like a long green thumb.

Leg 5: Roubaix, France to Calais, France

Only 45 miles and a navigational piece of cake since Calais (LFAC) sits on the English Channel - and that's pretty hard to miss. It's also the only contemporary airfield I had to include on the route.

Leg 6: Calais, France to London, England

This leg must have been the most daunting, at least psychologically. It's only 81 miles from Calais (LFAC) to Redhill (EGKR), my chosen airfield for London. The Channel itself is only 23 miles wide at this point. Nevertheless, the first crossing of the channel was only two years before when Louis Bleriot crossed the channel in 1909 and it's unlikely that the race participants viewed this, the penultimate leg, with equanimity.

Leg 7: London, England to Paris, France

The final leg takes us back across the Channel and on to Paris. Although it's uncertain whether the pilots in the Great Circuit of Europe Race flew up the Champs Elysees - they did that in the movie and I thought it appropriate for an era when France was pre-eminent in aviation, to circle the Eifel Tower at least once.

In the 1911 race, only 8 of the original 42 completed the race - only one in an airplane that hadn't been completely rebuilt or replaced. The race was won by Lieutenant de Vaisseau Conneau a Blériot on the 7th of July. Conneau entered the race using the pseudonum André Beaumont. There were only two fatalities during the entire race, an observer and a competitor, both on the first leg of the race.

As I settle into the (virtual) cockpit of my 737NG, I doff my virtual Captain's cap to the Baroness de Laroche and all of her contemporaries who chose an incredibly difficult and dangerous profession that began the long and arduous journey to where we are today. - Madame la Baronne, nous vous saluons!

Jennifer Conner
com@virtualpilots.org

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