This is what a Demag AC435 all-terrain telescopic crane looked like before it received the colors of the Quebec company “Grues Guay“:
Demag AC 435 crane
This all-terrain crane was recently at work in Old Quebec, on the Côte de la Montagne. The coast has a fairly steep slope and it was necessary to create an artificial horizontal surface using pieces of wood to make the work safe.
Stabilization of a Guay crane at work.
The crane operator used a stepladder to get in and out of his vehicle as needed:
Stepladder provided for the Guay crane’s driver at work in Old Québec.
So this gave the following result, once the crane was at work:
All-terrain Demag AC 435 crane at work in Old Québec
With the telescopic arm fully extended:
All-terrain Demag AC 435 crane from Guay at work in Old Québec in 2021.
In the last photo below, you can see a person in a basket that is suspended at the end of the telescopic arm, confident that the tens of thousands of pounds of counterweight will keep the crane from tipping over. The calculation had to be very precise. Everything had to remain stable throughout the day! And since the work on the building lasted several days, the same operation had to be repeated every morning …
Guay crane at work in Old Québec on Côte de la Montagne in 2021.
The book “J’étais le pilote de Hitler” tells a true story that was originally published in 1957. The 2020 French edition, presented and annotated by Claude Quétel, improves our understanding of Hans Baur, one of the founders of Lufthansa in 1926, Hitler‘s personal pilot, but also a high-ranking Nazi SS officer and a close friend of the Führer.
The information offered by Hans Baur is of great interest. Early in Hans Baur’s career, the pilots doing what he did were called aviation pioneers. At the time, planes contained virtually no air navigation instruments that could assist a pilot flying in difficult weather conditions. The Alps are tricky to fly through in good weather, so it gets a lot more challenging in bad weather and in a poorly equipped plane. If we add the freezing conditions, engine failures, cabins that are not heated and that are not equipped with devices providing supplemental oxygen to pilots, then there are flightsthat would be considered something like an “exploit”. This aspect of the book is therefore very interesting.
I also liked all of Hans Baur’s anecdotes about Hitler’s demands on him. Being a pilot for the Führer was no small task. Hitler had very high expectations regarding the performance and the punctuality of his personal pilot, and the latter certainly demonstrated extraordinary abilities to satisfy his superior.
Where we have to be wary is that we are still dealing with an SS pilot, who was a member of the Nazi organization before Hitler took power. We have to question his personal values and what he voluntarily neglected in his book. The regular massacres carried out during Barbarossa Operation in Russia, or the elimination of six million Jews, are not discussed, as the SS pilot maintains he was never involved in politics. He carried passengers without asking questions, but he had chosen Nazism as a political movement. When you are invited to Hitler’s table on a daily basis and are therefore part of his inner circle, it is clear that the Nazi represented by Hans Baur is speaking about more than piloting.
The experience in Russian prisons is described as inhuman by Hans Baur, who has been there ten years. He talks about the transport of German prisoners in cattle cars, very bad food, etc. But I couldn’t help but wonder what planet he lived on to denounce his condition as a prisoner while ignoring the treatment the Germans imposed on the Russians and all the people who were deported and massacred. The Einsatzgruppen were not altar boys. Moreover, Claude Quétel also questioned this remark from Hans Baur, adding that “although very harsh, the living and working conditions in the Soviet camps have nothing to do – as we sometimes read – with those of the German concentration camps.”(p.381).
There are also some inaccuracies and sometimes falsehoods that Claude Quétel does not hesitate to point out. Sometimes these are trivial errors resulting from poor memory. However, other important facts are downright inaccurate. As in this passage where Baur says that Hitler decided to attack Russia four weeks before the start of the war, which is not true. The conquest of the East and of more living space is specifically enunciated in Mein Kampfand is spoken of in a book written while Hitler was in prison in 1923 following a failed coup.
Conclusion
The book « J’étais le pilote de Hitler » is a very interesting book, one more about Nazi Germany. The history of Germany is fascinating and complex, from the time of the Holy Roman Empire to the present day. But it seems that it will always be the twelve years of the Nazi period that will achieve more success in bookstores.
Have a good read!
Click on the link for other books on war in my blog.
The Canadian Craig Dobbin built the world’s largest helicopter company
“One hell of a ride” book cover about Craig Dobbin and the world’s largest helicopter company: CHC Helicopters
His view on management
“I’m not an expert on anything” he explained. “Whatever the job, whatever the challenge, somebody can do it better than I can. True entrepreneurs surround themselves with professional managers who share their vision and put form around it. Not only can you not do it all yourself, it’s not necessary, and it does not make sense. I believe in being a good casting director of people who work together and share together”.
Handling pressure
“It’s been a good week” Craig Dobbin might comment to his personal secretary late on a Friday afternoon. Then his face would cloud over and he’d say, “Get Keith Stanford on the phone and ask him for my financial summary. That’ll fuck up my weekend”.
A capacity to take huge financial risks
“The hell with the contract”, he grinned. “Let’s buy the buggers out and we’ll get the contract that way! We’ll start with Toronto [Helicopters].”
“One morning, shortly after the deal to purchase Toronto Helicopters was completed, Craig Dobbin strolled into Robert Foster’s Toronto office. “Robert” he said “I want you to get on a plane, fly to Calgary and buy Okanagan Helicopters for me.” “But Craig,” Foster replied, “you don’t have any money.” Dobbin shrugged and said “That’s your problem.””
On the importance of relaxing and have fun
“Over time, Dobbin introduced initiation rites for first-time visitors [to his fishing lodge]. Steve Hudson’s [a pilot] initial visit to Adlatuk involved a helicopter flight over the ocean in search of an iceberg drifting down from the Arctic. When a suitable iceberg was located, the initiate was given his instructions. “They handed me a hammer and an ice bucket,” Hudson explains. “My job was to jump out of the helicopter onto the iceberg and fill the bucket with chipped ice for our drinks back at the fishing lodge”.
Icebergs, Hudson discovered, are very unstable and riding one in the North Atlantic with a Super Puma hovering a few feet over your head is like trying to keep your balance while walking across a trampoline. “It was a lot of fun for the guys in the helicopter,” he says, “but not so much fun for me, trying to knock enough million-year-old ice of the berg to fill the bucket.” Back in the camp, the ice chilled several glasses of Jameson raised in a toast to the new crew member.””
“One hell of a ride”, from John Lawrence Reynolds
A genuine interest in people
“When he talked with you in social situations,” one business acquaintance recalls, “he was focused totally on you. He wasn’t looking over your shoulder or around the room, searching for someone more important. He was really interested in what you were saying. Everyone sensed this about the man and was drawn to him”.
Dobbin’s humanity
“Dobbin’s business acumen rarely overrode his humanity. On a flight to his fishing lodge in Long Harbour with a group of friends, Dobbin asked the helicopter pilot to set the craft down for a washroom break. The pilot chose an open area adjacent to a shack and tower where a provincial wildlife officer was spending the summer on fire-watch duty. The officer, a grizzled veteran of wildlife work, kept the group laughing for some time with his stories and anecdotes, and the short rest break extended into an hour’s impromptu entertainment.
“How long have you been here?” Dobbin asked the old timer as the group was about to board the helicopter and resume their journey. “Ten weeks,” the officer answered, with about another ten weeks to go before returning home. “Anything you need?” Dobbin inquired, and the man said he was out of sugar; it would be nice to have something to sweeten his tea, but he would get by.
An hour later, when everyone had disembarked at Long Harbour, Dobbin instructed the helicopter pilot not to shut down the aircraft yet. He entered the cookhouse and emerged with a two-kilo bag of sugar, ordering the pilot to fly it back to the wildlife officer they had met.
“Are you kidding?” the young pilot said. “I’ll spend about two thousand bucks in fuel alone to fly it there.”
Dobbin gripped the pilot’s arm. “Son,” he said, “that sugar will mean more to that old fellow than two thousand bucks will ever mean to me. Now get going.””
