On June 15, 1933, two talented pilots, Steponas Darius and Stasys Girėnas, took to the skies in “Lituanica”, a Bellanca-type aircraft from New York. Their goal was to cross the Atlantic Ocean and land in their homeland, but their attempt ended in a tragedy – both lost their lives. Their story lives on, as one of Lithuania’s proudest historical moments, although it was not the first attempt to fly across the Atlantic.
Darius was born in 1896 in what is now the Klaipėda district, and went to America with his mother and his siblings after his father died, according to author and curator at the Lithuanian Aviation Museum Pijus Poškus. They first lived in New York, then Chicago. During the First World War, he volunteered for the United States Army and fought in France. After returning to Lithuania in 1920, Darius worked in the intelligence department, then, after graduating from military school, became a lieutenant and served in military aviation from 1922 to 1927. He established the Lithuanian Aero Club in 1927, which encouraged the development of civil aviation. Until then, only military pilots were allowed to fly in the country. After spending seven years in Lithuania, he decided to return to the US, probably realizing that he would have more opportunities in America, in its golden age of aviation. Darius’ dream of crossing the Atlantic was probably sparked by the news of Charles Lindbergh’s 1927 flight.
Stasys Girėnas was born in 1893 the Šilalė district, and left for Chicago as a teenager after the early death of his parents. During his service in the US Army, he was assigned as a mechanic and revealed an aptitude for aviation. Poškus noted that he also had a motorboat, which he used to ferry people on Lake Michigan, and was one of the first Lithuanians to set up a taxi company in Chicago. In the 1930s, Girėnas started flying as an amateur, and had a serious accident in 1925, but he returned to aviation. Although he was not a professional pilot, he was active and even won a prize for precision landing. His real name was actually Stanistovas Tomas Girskis. Poškus explained that his first attempt to join the US military was unsuccessful, so when he went to another state he called himself Stanley Girch, then before his flight across the Atlantic, he chose a Lithuanian name again. In 1932, Petras Jurgėla, in charge of the Lituanica flight’s public relations, thought that Darius and Girėnas sounded better than Darius and Girskis or Darius and Girch, so the change was made. The two men had probably met in the summer of 1927 in Chicago, in a Lithuanian restaurant owned by Darius’ sisters.
Darius and Girėnas chose a six-seater Bellanca passenger aircraft for their Atlantic crossing because Darius had flown this type of aircraft before. Preparations for the flight were disrupted by the divisive mood in society as a result of a political coup in Lithuania. Darius and Girėnas set up a special committee and tried to bring together prominent public figures to help fund the flight, but they were forced to cut corners.
Poškus explains that on the afternoon of July 14, the meteorologist mentoring pilots flying across the Atlantic reported that the weather was good for them to take off. The next morning they were warned that a storm was forming in Europe, but Darius and Girėnas decided not to postpone. To save money, the pilots did not have radios and parachutes. The only safety feature in the Lituanica plane was the fuel dumping system in case the plane landed on the water and so could float for a while. The route was carefully planned, but it is still not known exactly where Lituanica reached Europe, and its subsequent course is vague, with insufficient data on the flight charts, and no black box. It is known that Lituanica encountered a storm on the current German-Polish border, so it turned back a bit and flew towards Berlin, not Kaunas, said Poškus.
On July 17, the plane crashed in eastern Germany, some 600 kilometres from its destination.
“It is likely that they sought a landing sight due to an engine failure.” An official investigation led by Antanas Gustaitis, the future chief of Lithuanian military aviation and the creator of the Lithuanian ANBO military plane, denied the rumours that the Lituanica had been struck by the Germans. This version was also rejected by the military medical experts who examined the bodies of the pilots brought back to Kaunas.
July 15 remains a special date for Lithuanians. This year, to commemorate the 90th anniversary of that flight, Swiss watch manufacturer “Aviator” created a limited edition of 90 watches, available online since July 21 for 695 euros.
