Fuselage

Fuselage pronounced fyoo-suh-lahzh, fyoo-suh-lij, fyoo-zuh-lahzh or fyoo-suh-lahzh)

(1) In aeronautical design, the complete central structure of an airplane, to which are attached the wings (or rotors), tail and other stabilizing fins or surfaces (engines sometimes also directly attached or enclosed).  It is inside the fuselage where the crew, passengers, cargo and most internals systems are located.

(2) In design, a style which borrows from or alludes to the elements used in aircraft fuselages.

(3) By extension, the main body of an aerospace vehicle

1909 (In English): From the French fuselage, the construct being fusel(é) (spindle-shaped), from fuseler (to shape like a spindle), from the Old French fus or fuseau (spindle), from the Latin fusus (spindle) + -age.  The French suffix -age was from the Middle & Old French -age, from the Latin -āticum, (greatly) extended from words like rivage and voyage.  It was used usually to form nouns with the sense of (1) "action or result of Xing" or (more rarely), "action related to X" or (2) "state of being (a or an) X".  A less common use was the formation of collective nouns.  Historically, there were many applications (family relationships, locations et al) but use has long tended to be restricted to the sense of "action of Xing".  Many older terms now have little to no connection with their most common modern uses, something particularly notable of those descended from actual Latin words (fromage, voyage et al).  In English, the suffix -age was from the Middle English -age, from the Old French -age, from the Latin -āticum.  Cognates include the French -age, the Italian -aggio, the Portuguese -agem, the Spanish -aje & Romanian -aj.  It was used to form nouns (1) with the sense of collection or appurtenance, (2) indicating a process, action, or a result, (3) of a state or relationship, (4) indicating a place, (5) indicating a charge, toll, or fee, (6) indicating a rate & (7) of a unit of measure.  Fuselage is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is fuselages.

Many languages also borrowed fuselage but there were sometimes variations in spelling including in Catalan (fuselatge), Portuguese (fuselagem), Spanish (fuselaje), Russian (fjuzeljáž (фюзеля́ж)), Kazakh (füzeläj (фюзеляж)) and Ukrainian (fjuzeljáž (фюзеля́ж)).  It’s not clear when “fuselage” was first used in English, the earliest known reference dating from 1909 but it’s not improbable the word had earlier been in oral use.  The alternative was presumably “hull” (the body or frame of shop, boat or other such vessel).  Hull was from the Middle English hul, hulle & holle (seed covering, hull of a ship), from the Old English hulu (seed covering), from the Proto-Germanic hul- (and related to the Dutch hul (hood) and the German Hülle & Hülse (cover, veil)), and may have been from either the primitive Indo-European forms ḱel- (to cover, hide) or kal- (hard).  Hull came into wide use in aircraft design when “flying boats” were developed.

Flying boats: Short S.25 Sunderland (1938-1946) (left) and Dornier Do X (1929-1932) (right). 

Most aeroplanes have fuselages; flying boats have hulls, a tribute to the nautical part of their hybrid origin.  Commercially, flying boats were widely used during the inter-war years because of their range and, needing only a suitable body of water (sea, lake, river), their ability to operate in regions without suitable aerodromes.  A vital military machine during World War II (1939-1945), the advances in aircraft design during that conflict, coupled with the proliferation of airstrip construction able to be re-purposed for civil use doomed them for all but some specialist uses.  Quickly they almost vanished from European and (most) North American skies and waterways, enduring in the Far East only until infrastructure there too was improved.

The fuselage can be optional: Dunne D.5 (1908) (left), Northrop YB-49 prototype (1947) (centre) and Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit (1989) (right).

In the early days of aviation, before even an airplane had flown the English Channel, designers had been intrigued when their slide-rule calculations suggested the optimal shape of a flying machine was a "flying wing" with no conventional fuselage and certainly no tail-plane apparatus.  Tests of scale models in primitive wind tunnels proved the math was substantially correct and proof of concept tests using an unpowered glider proved inconclusive, it being clear only a powered flight would demonstrate if such a design could achieve stable flight.  When tested, the designer admitted an early, under-powered, version was "more a hopper than a flyer" but when fitted with more powerful engines, the "flying wings" proved remarkably stable.  However, more conventional designs proved more suitable for military use and that, increasingly was where the source of funding was to be found.  Despite that, the idea continued to fascinate designers and a flying wing was one of the extraordinary range of experimental aircraft under development in Nazi Germany during World War II, most of which never made any contribution to the Luftwaffe's war effort.  In the US, Northrop built both propeller and jet-powered prototypes in the 1940s and after early difficulties, a stable platform emerged although, like most designs, it both offered advantages and imposed restrictions but the whole project was cancelled; ever since some have argued this was due to political influence while others claim the flaws in the concept were so fundamental they couldn't be fixed.  The Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit (in service with the US Air Force (USAF) until at least 2034) is a modified version of a flying wing in that its really a variation of a delta with an integrated fuselage.

Ascending the stairs: Lindsay Lohan entering a fuselage, Mykonos, Greece, August 2016.

In the early days of aviation during the twentieth century’s first decade, French engineers and inventors were the most innovative on the planet and this is reflected in the world-wide adoption of many French terms for some of the bits and pieces which continue to be used.  English, rarely inclined to create a new word if there was a manageable one in some other language which could be absorbed (“borrowed” still the term etymologists, strangely perhaps, prefer) and the French words which formed the basis of the early lexicon of aviation are a particular example of technological determinism in language.  Other orthodox terms in aviation include:

Aileron: A hinged flight-control surface usually attached to the trailing edge of each wing and used to change the roll (ie cause fuselage to begin rotation).  Although the word “flaps” is commonly used of ailerons, the flaps are usually positioned closer to the fuselage and are used to increase or reduce lift & drag.  The flap-like devices mounted on the trailing edges of the vertical stabilizers (somewhere in the tail-section) are properly called “elevators”.  Aileron was a diminutive of aile (wing) and before powered flight (flying machines) had been used in ornithology to refer to the extremities of a bird's wings used to control their flight.  There is an entry in a French-English dictionary dating from 1877 (with the lead meaning: “small wing”) and in the context of the language of aviation, the earliest known use in entry in French technical literature is from 1908.

Empennage: The tail assembly of an aircraft, including the horizontal and vertical stabilizers, elevators, and rudder. Empennage was from the French empenner (to feather an arrow).

Chassis: This was the original term used in English to describe the framework of an aircraft but soon was replaced by "frame, structure etc"), presumably because of the association with the heavy steel constructions used in cars and trucks, things far removed from the lightweight designs needed in the air.  Chassis was from the French chassis (frame, supporting structure), from châsse (reliquary; coffin), from the Latin capsa (case).

Concours d'Elegance: Not strictly an aviation term and most associated with affairs like those in Pebble Beach where rows of vintage Bentleys, Ferraris and such (the latter always in a much better state of finish than when they left the factory) are judged for their closeness to perfection.  Although not strictly a term from aviation, there are such events for old aircraft.  Concours d'Elegance was from the French concours d'élégance (competition of elegance).

Pilot: Pilot was from the Middle French pilot & pillot, from the Italian pilota & piloto, (pedotta, pedot & pedotto the older forms), the pil- element probably influenced by pileggiare (to sail, navigate), ultimately from the unattested Byzantine Greek *πηδώτης (pēdṓtēs) (helmsman), from the Ancient Greek πηδόν (pēdón) (blade of an oar, oar) (the the Ancient and Modern Greek πηδάλιον (pēdálion) (rudder).  Familiar from nautical use, pilot was a straight borrowing for the person fulfilling the same function in the air.  The construct of pilotage was pilot + -age.

Canard: A type of aircraft configuration where the tail-plane is ahead of the main lifting surfaces.  In aviation, a canard is either (1) a type of aircraft in which the primary horizontal control and stabilization surfaces are in front of the main wing or (2) a horizontal control and stabilization surface located in front of the main wing of an aircraft (a fore-plane).  In just about any form of engineering involving movement and fluid dynamics (air, plasma, water etc), a canard is a small, wing-like structure used usually as a stabilizing device.  Canard was from the French canard (duck, hoax) and in English as “a canard”, is still used in that sense to mean “a false or misleading report or story, especially if deliberately so”.

The Fuselage Chryslers, 1968-1973

1969 Imperial LeBaron, four-door hardtop.

The “fuselage” Chryslers were released late in 1968 for the 1969 model year and, as a class, remain the largest regular production cars ever made by the US industry.  In the catalogue between 1968-1973, by the end of their run the Imperial was built on a 127 inch (3226 mm) wheelbase, was 235 ½ (5981 mm) inches in length and almost 80 (2022 mm) inches in width.  Big cars from Detroit were not uncommon in the 1960s (Buick in 1959 even naming their top-of-the-range model the Electra 225, a tribute to its 225 inch (5715 mm) length) but even by those standards the fuselage cars not only were vast but the bulbous shape (source of the “fuselage” tag) made them appear more excessive still; it wasn’t only for the big Chryslers the derisive “land yacht” was coined but the line exemplified the idea.  In fairness, the trend generally was “longer, heavier & fatter”, even once compact (by US standards) and agile machines like Ford’s Mustang and Thunderbird bloating with each update although the manufacturers were aware there was considerable public demand for something smaller and by the late 1960s, those in the pipelines were well-advanced.  However, demand for the full-sized cars remained strong and Chrysler decided their lines should be more full-sized than ever, thus the fuselage design.  There was at the time a bit of an aeronautical influence about and that was nothing new, jet aircraft and space rockets during the previous two decades having contributed many of the motifs which appeared on US cars.  During the development cycle for the fuselage cars, Chrysler were well-acquainted with the appearance of the Boeing 747, sketches circulating for some three years before its first public appearance in September 1968, coincidently just days after the Chrysler’s debuted.  In its appearance, the bulging 747 was the same sort of departure from the earlier, slender 707 as the 1969 Chryslers were from their rectilinear predecessors.

1969 Chrysler 300 advertising.  In graphics & text, the "fuselage" motif was integral to the promotion; it was no mere nickname. 

In some ways the styling has aged surprisingly well because the basic lines are uncluttered and, particularly on the higher priced editions, there was some nice detailing but at the time, critics found the look peculiar and a deviance from the direction other manufacturers were travelling.  The sides were unusually deep and rounded (recalling, obviously, an airplane’s fuselage) with a beltline so high the glasshouse (the cabin area defined by the windows) was relatively shallow, something accentuated by the surrounding bulk.  The corporation’s full-sized platform (internally the “C-Body”), it was shared by the Plymouth, Dodge, Chrysler and Imperial lines, the latter a surprise to some because since 1955 when it had been established as a separate division, the Imperial had been built on a unique platform.  However, despite some encouraging results in the 1950s, Imperial never achieved the volume which would have justified another unique platform so the line was merged into mainstream development.

1969 Imperial LeBaron four-door Hardtop advertising.  The "messaging" in this advertisement remains obscure.

The debut season saw good sales for the fuselage cars (though still more than 10% down on the previous C-Body (1965-1968)) but demand dropped precipitously in the next three years although sales were in buoyant in 1973 when many manufacturers set records; it was the last good year for the “old” American economy and the swansong of the long post-war boom built on cheap, limitless energy and the uniquely advantageous position the country enjoyed after the war; something squandered by the mistakes of more than one administration.  It was certainly unfortunate timing for Chrysler that the first oil crisis should hit just weeks after they had replaced the fuselage cars with something mechanically similar but with clever styling tricks (even the engineers admitted it was “nips & tucks; smoke & mirrors”), something dimensionally similar appeared both smaller and more modern.  Underneath, as the fuselage line had been, was essentially a good product, Chrysler’s basic engineering always good and while the big machines would never behave like a Lotus Elan, on the road they were competent and in most aspects as good as or better than the competition.

The last of Harry S Truman's (1884–1972; US president 1945-1953) many cars was a 1972 Chrysler Newport, the entry-level model in Chrysler's Fuselage range (some Plymouth & Dodge models were cheaper still).  Purchased some six months before his death, the licence plate (5745) was a special request, a reference to 7 May, 1945 (VE Day (Victory in Europe).  Truman was in office on that day and the plate has since permanently been retired.

The first oil shock hit demand for the 1974 cars and the timing was bad for all points in the production and distribution chain.  The 1974 Chryslers genuinely were improved and, noting the favourable reviews, dealers had ordered large stocks to meet the expected demand but the ripples from the OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) oil embargo meant sales of big cars collapsed and the Chryslers, with V8 engines between 318-440 cubic inches (5.2-7.2 litres) were as thirsty as any of their ilk; stocks of cars expected to be sold in days languished on dealer’s lots for months.  In response, Chrysler shut down two manufacturing plants while trying to increase production or imports of smaller, more fuel-efficient vehicles.  Sales of the big cars in 1974 were barely half those of the previous year and the breakdown of those was a harbinger for the whole industry, the numbers disproportionately slanted towards the higher-priced lines, the entry-level models attracting interest mostly from fleet operators and law enforcement.  The days of the low-cost big sedans which appealed to those like Harry Truman (a confessed Freemason) who liked the virtues without the ostentation, were over and their survival for a few years was guaranteed only because their virtues suited fleet buyers like police forces, rental car operators and the military.

When buying a Newport, one got more metal for the money that any other of the big Chryslers offered but one President Truman never would have considered was the Newport Sportsgrain.  For over a decade station wagons fitted with a combination of fibreglass spars emulating structural timbers and 3M's DI-NOC imitation wood panelling had been popular and, impressed by the solid sales numbers for these things which recalled the old “woody” station wagons (which, until the early 1950s had used real wood) Mercury decided those buying two-door hardtops and convertibles deserved the same choice.  Thus for the 1968 season, “Yacht Deck Paneling” appeared in the catalogues as an option on the top-of-the-line Park Lane.  Clearly not wishing to be thought deceptive, Mercury not only didn’t disguise the synthetic origins of the “simulated walnut-tone” appliqué, its advertising copy made a virtue of being faux, pointing out: “This paneling is tougher, longer-lasting than real wood… and every bit as beautiful” before concluding “wood-tone paneling has always been a good idea”.

1969 Chrysler Newport with “Sportsgrain” option.  This was the era when the big cars came to be called “land yachts” so references to “yacht decks” and such were not inappropriate.  Inefficient in so many ways, in their natural environment (“floating” effortlessly down the freeways, passengers and driver isolated within from the rest of the world), they excelled and there’s since been nothing quite like them.

That sales pitch must have convinced Chrysler “wood-tone paneling has always been a good idea” because it responded to what Mercury were doing by slipping onto the market the mid-season offering of the “Sportsgrain Newport”, available as a two-door hardtop or convertible, both with the simulated timber used on the corporation’s station wagons.  A US$126 option, it was a deliberate attempt to evoke spirit of the high-priced Town and Country convertibles of the late 1940s but, because the T&C moniker had already been appropriated for the wagons, someone in marketing had to come with “sportsgrain” which now must seem mystifying to anyone unaware the first element of the portmanteau word was a nod to the convertibles of the early post-war years.  Other than the large slab of vinyl, the “Sportsgrain” cars were standard Newports (then the cheapest of the Chrysler-branded models).  While demand for appliqué-adorned station wagons remained strong, Chrysler in 1968 had no more success than Mercury in shifting hardtops & convertibles with the stuff glued on, only 965 of the former and 175 of the later being ordered which, nationwide, was not even one per dealer.  Remarkably, the option returned for 1969 with the new “fuselage” body styling, possibly because the corporation, anticipating higher demand, had a warehouse full of 3M’s vinyl but, being simply glued on, maintaining the option would not have been an expensive exercise.  Sales however must have been low, the survivors of the 1969 range rare and Chrysler have never disclosed the final season's production totals.

1978 Chrysler New Yorker advertising.  Still obviously bulky, the 1974-1978 re-style toned down the fuselage look although the interiors in tufted leather or velor became increasingly baroque.  Publications like Road & Track (R&T) where the writers disapproved of anything so big (they thought everyone should drive a Lancia) sneered at the extravagant fit-out, dismissing it as "gingerbread" but it was a luxurious and isolating environment.  There were still many who liked that sort of thing, none of whom maintained subscriptions to R&T.

So the writing was on the wall and even by 1977 when the oil crisis faded from memory and it seemed buyers were ready again to buy big, Chrysler was left with its now 1974 range while press and public fawned over General Motors’ (GM) newly slimmed-down, taut looking, full-size cars, the style and dimensions of which were so obviously the future.  Tellingly, while radically reduced in weight and external measurements, on the inside, they were in most places as capacious as both their predecessors and the now antique Chryslers which were still just an update of the 1969 fuselage range.  With the coming of 1976, the corporation had accepted the inevitable and axed the Imperial brand, Chrysler's top-of-the-range New Yorker tarted-up with left-over Imperial trim to become the new flagship.  The end was close and in 1978 it came, that the last year of the big Chryslers released with such high expectations a decade before and when the line was retired, it took with it the once popular four-door hardtop body-style, other manufacturers having already retired their models.  Shockingly inefficient though they are, the few surviving land yachts have a small but devoted following who appreciate what remains a unique driving experience (one as enjoyable as a passenger) and it's unlikely anything like them will ever be built again.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

The most unexpected fuselage Chrysler was something of a coda to the earlier 300 letter series (1955-1966).  Although “surprise” is a common tactic in marketing, what was strange about the release of the Chrysler 300-Hurst (introduced in February 1970 at the Chicago Auto Show) was it being a surprise to the dealers parking it in their showrooms.  Improbable as it sounds for a product released in the citadel of modern capitalism, the accepted orthodoxy is the management at Chrysler and Hurst both believed the other corporation would be handing the promotion so consequently, none was ever done.  Given the market dynamics of the time, it’s debatable whether advertising would much have stimulated demand for such a machine and as things worked out, only some 500 were built, the model never replaced.  In the era, there was little consistency in how the thing was discussed with publications variously using “300H”, “300 Hurst” and “Hurst 300” but the preferred use now seems to be “300-H” to distinguish it from the original 300H of 1962.  Based on the Chrysler 300 built on the corporate C-Body (with the so called “fuselage” coachwork introduced for the 1969 season) conceptually, the 300-H was very much in the letter-series tradition and featured the combination of a more powerful version of the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 (rated at 375 (gross) horsepower in a dual-exhaust configuration), the TorqueFlite (727) automatic transmission and the opulent leather interior from the Imperial line.  Although often listed as a footnote, the 300-H isn't considered part of the letter-series lineage.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).  The leather trim and power-adjustable seats came from the Imperial line.

All were finished in Spinnaker White with Satin Tan color accents, and Medium Brown pin-striping, the H70–15 Goodyear Polyglas tyres mounted on 15 x 6-inch wheels in Saturn Iridescent paint.  Although the high (numerically low; the final-drive ratio a conservative 3.23) gearing was indicative of a machine was built for high-speed cruising on the freeways rather than ¼ mile runs along a drag-strip, there were a few visual clues borrowed from muscle car genre, each 300-H equipped with a fibreglass hood (bonnet) which included the then-fashionable “power bulge” in the centre and a rear-mounted fresh air intake although unlike the muscle cars, this fed cold air not to the engine but the passenger compartment.  The trunk (boot) lid (“rear-deck” in US terminology) was also a fibreglass piece which included an integrated spoiler (then referred to usually as an “airfoil”).  The fibreglass mouldings were fabricated by two different companies and although the hoods were well-engineered, the rear decks lacked the internal stiffening required by a panel of such size and they proved over time prone to deformation, the warping most severe if the sitting for any length of time in high-temperature.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

By 1970, the 300-H must have seemed anachronistic because the market for high-performance variants of full-sized cars had evaporated as buyer preferences switched to the smaller intermediates and pony cars, by then available with the biggest, most powerful power-plants in Detroit’s inventory.  General Motors (GM) had withdrawn from the segment and although Ford listed the option of a four-speed manual gearbox for big XLs with 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre), none were ever built while the 1969 Mercury Marauder X-100 (essentially a cosmetic package) was automatic-only and lasted only a single season.  Chrysler’s Plymouth division still offered the triple-carburetor 440 (rated in 1970 at a healthy 390 HP) in the big Sport Fury but only with an automatic and sales were low.  It’s worth remembering the original Chrysler 300 “letter cars” of 1955-1956 were essentially the same size as the intermediates of the mid 1960s which became so popular and were the platform which defined the “muscle car” during its brief and crazy vogue; the size was “right” in a US context and what the full-sized lines had grown to was not.  As the fuselage Chryslers came to exemplify, the huge, full-sizers would prove ideal as “land yachts” a breed particular to the 1970s in which occupants, isolated from the outside as never before (and rarely since) “floated” down the freeways, consuming fossil fuels and expelling pollutants in volumes which now would astonish most and appal Greta Thunberg (b 2003).

Hurst built one 300-H convertible, used as a promotional vehicle for their famous shifters, often accompanied by Ms Linda Vaughn (b 1943) who stood on a platform mounted atop the rear desk, between giant models of shifters.  Ms Vaughn was for more than two decades a welcome adornment to drag-strips, noted usually for noise and brutishness.

In 1970, Chrysler 300s tagged for conversion to 300-H specification came down the assembly line in the Jefferson Avenue plant in Detroit before being freighted to Hurst’s facility in Warminster, Pennsylvania to undergo a process which differed from the original plan: instead of deeper oil pans, upgraded ignition systems and the Hurst shifters which had made the company’s name, the cars received mostly cosmetic enhancements although the suspension was stiffened.  About the only difference in configuration was some used a column-shift for the transmission and some a floor-shit with a console, the later combination used with bucket seats.  Despite the 7.2 litre V8, the gearing and bulk conspired against muscle-car like acceleration although the ET (elapsed time) of 15.5 seconds for the standing quarter mile (400 m) was impressive, all things considered.  However, with a MSRP (manufacturer's suggested retail price) of US$5,939 (without any options) it was the corporation’s most expensive offering (except for the Imperial line) and this, combined with the absence of promotion and the anyway declining interest in the segment meant there wasn’t a second batch beyond the original 500-odd (the total quoted variously between 485-501), many of which lingered on dealers’ lots.  According to internal documents, the initial projections had anticipated sales of 2000.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

The 300-H was the biggest of a number of cars to bear the Hurst name although internationally George Hurst’s (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company), greatest legacy to the world was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of it use isn’t known but it would be a big number.

Ms Linda Vaughn on the move.

It’s said one 300-H was dealer-fitted with the fabled 426 cubic inch (7.0) Street Hemi V8 but like many such tales from the era, the veracity of that is uncertain and most find the tale improbable.  Chrysler certainly never considered using either the Hemi or the triple-carburetor (3 x 2 bbl) version of the 440 because, given the market segment at which the thing was aimed, air-conditioning (AC) was thought likely to me an often chosen option and the factory never offered the option with either the Hemi or the most powerful 440, the systems of the era not suited to the high-revving units.  It’s thus an orthodoxy in the collector that “no cars with the 426 Hemi or 440 6 bbl were fitted with AC by the factory” and while that’s true of Chrysler’s factories, it not the case for every factory because Jensen in the UK offered AC in their Interceptor SP (Six-Pack) which used the six-barrel 440 and the boutique Swiss manufacturer Monteverdi did include AC in the single mid-engined Hai fitted with a Hemi.

Cruciform

Cruciform (pronounced kroo-suh-fawrm)

(1) In geometry, a geometric curve, shaped like a cross, which has four similar branches asymptotic to two mutually perpendicular pairs of lines (equation: x ² y ² – a ² x ² – a ² y ² = 0, where x = y = ± a are the four lines).

(2) In engineering or design, being in the shape of a cross; cross-shaped.

(3) An emblem or escutcheon in the shape of a cross.

(4) In aeronautical engineering, a type of tail structure.

(5) In genetics, a cross shape in DNA (known also as the Holliday junction).

1814: From the Modern Latin cruciformis (1655-1665), the construct being from crux (genitive crucis) (stake, cross) + forma (form, shape), both Latin words of unknown origin; the he English form was first documented in 1814.  Early etymologists suggested crucis might have links with the Irish cruach (heap, hill), the Gaulish krouka (summit), the Old Norse hryggr (backbone) or the Old English hrycg (back) but modern scholars, although offering the odd speculation, concede only it may have been borrowed from “somewhere” an observation which, while probably true, isn't a great deal of help.  Form first entered Old English around the turn of the thirteenth century as forme & fourme (semblance, image, likeness), a direct borrowing from the Old French forme & fourme (physical form, appearance; pleasing looks; shape, image; way, manner), from the Latin forma (form, contour, figure, shape; appearance, looks; a fine form, beauty; an outline, a model, pattern, design; sort, kind condition), again a word of unknown origin, the most accepted theory being it may be from or cognate with the Ancient Greek morphe (form, beauty, outward appearance).  Cruciform is a noun & adjective, cruciformity is a noun and cruciformly an adverb; the noun plural is cruciforms.

Empennages: the cruciform & the T-Tail

On airframes, a cruciform tail is an empennage (the tail assembly, almost always at the extreme rear of an aircraft, provides directional stability while in flight, as the feathers on an arrow generate, the word derived from the French empenner (to feather an arrow)), a configuration which, when viewed in direct frontal or rearward aspect, assume a cruciform (lower case †) shape.  The accepted practice is for the horizontal stabilizer to intersect the vertical tail close to the middle, well above the fuselage.

Cruciform tail: Rockwell B-1 Lancer

The cruciform tail is a compromise.  While not offering all the aerodynamic advantages of the T-Tail (where the horizontal stabilizer is mounted atop the tail (upper case T) and thus almost completely removed from the wake of the engines), it doesn’t demand the additional structural strengthening (and thus weight) or suffer the same vulnerability to metal fatigue.

T-Tails: Lockheed C-141 Starlifter (produced 1963-1968), Wright-Patterson USAF (US Air Force) Base, Dayton Ohio (left), Vickers VC10 (produced 1962-1970) in BOAC livery, BOAC promotional photograph, 1964 (centre) and Lockheed C-5M Galaxys (produced (all versions) 1968-1989) at USAF Base, Dover, Delaware (right).

The T-Tail is used in aviation for a variety of reasons.  On freighters, the advantage is the horizontal stabilizers are moved away from the rear of the fuselage, meaning the space-consuming mechanical and hydraulic assemblies don't intrude on the rear-loading area, permitting both a larger door aperture and an uninterrupted load-path.  One unusual use was the Vickers VC10, a design distinguished by the four engines being mounted in the tail section, something which precluded the conventional placement of horizontal stabilizers.  The VC10 was a design cul-de-sac but as the K.3 aerial refueling tanker, the airframe remained in service with the Royal Air Force (RAF) until 2013.

The cruciform (left) and the T-Tail (right) can be borrowed from aeronautical design and applied to hairstyles: Lindsay Lohan demonstrates.

Parasol & Umbrella

Parasol (pronounced par-uh-sawl or par-uh-sol)

(1) A type of lightweight umbrella used, especially by women, as protection from the sun.

(2) In architecture, a roof or covering of a structure designed to provide cover from wind, rain, or sun.

(3) In bar-tending, a miniature paper umbrella used as a decoration in tropical-themed cocktails.

(4) In aviation, as parasol wing, a wing not directly attached to the fuselage but held above it, supported by either cabane struts or a pylon.  Additional bracing may be provided by struts or wires extending from the fuselage sides.

(5) As permanent or movable features, a sun-shade (usually in an umbrella-like shape) used in gardens and mounted on a stand (the shaft sometimes passing through a hole in a table; these can be foldable and demountable.

(6) In entomology, any of various Asian species of libellulid dragonfly of the genus Neurothemis.

(7) The parasol mushroom, Macrolepiota procera

1610–1620: From the French & Middle French parasol from the Italian parasole, the construct being para- (to shield) + sole (sun); the Italian sole being derived from the Classical Latin sōl (sun).  The rarely used adjectival form is parasoled.  A curious and long extinct Americanism from the late nineteenth century was bumbershoot.  Parasol is a noun & verb; the noun plural is parasols.

Umbrella (pronounced uhm-brel-uh)

(1) A portable, usually circular cover for protection from rain or sun, consisting of a fabric held on a collapsible frame of thin ribs radiating from the top of a carrying stick or handle.

(2) Anything providing protection (usually figuratively).

(3) In marine biology, flattened cone-shaped contractile, contractile, gelatinous body of a jellyfish or other medusa.

(4) In military jargon, something that covers or protects from above such as aircraft safeguarding surface forces.

(5) In geopolitics, as the "nuclear umbrella", a description of the arrangement under which a nuclear-armed state extends its use (either by formal alliance or perception) to non-nuclear states.

(6) Something covering a wide range of concepts, purposes, groups, organizational structures etc.

(7) In zoology, the main body of a jellyfish (the gelatinous material), excluding the tentacles.

(8) In photography (static and moving), an umbrella-shaped reflector with a white or silvery inner surface, used to diffuse or direct light.

1600–1610: From the Italian ombrella and umbrella (parasol, sunshade), diminutive of ombra (shade), an earlier variant of ombrello from the Late Latin umbrella, an alteration (under the influence of the Latin umbra (shade or shadow)) of the Latin umbella (sunshade).  In both Latin and Italian, the –ella suffix was used with female nouns to form diminutives and was the feminine equivalent of –ello.  The slang terms for the umbrella vary: In the US there was "bumbershoot" & "umbershoot" (now less common) while elsewhere in the English-speaking world it's almost always "brolly" (which is never spelled "brollie" although the plural is "brollies"); the old British terms "gamp", "rain napper" & rainshade are all archaic.  The alternative spellings humbrella, ombrella & umbrello are listed by dictionaries variously as obsolete & archaic but all are effectively extinct.  Umbrella is a noun and umbrellaed is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is umbrellas.

Of Sun and Rain

Lindsay Lohan: Tyler Shields (b 1982) photo shoot, 2010.

Although structurally, essentially identical, the convention of use is that a parasol protects from the sun and an umbrella, rain.  In French this is formalised with parapluie (umbrella), the construct being para (to shield) + pluie (rain), pluie from the Latin pluvia (rain) whereas parasol is para + sol (sun).  Quite what Lindsay Lohan's photographer has in mind is not immediately obvious but in tunnels, parasols obviously are never used for their intended purpose and, given they are, by definition, shielded from the rain, unfurled umbrellas are also an uncommon sight.  However, in many of the tunnels used in mining, construction or for non-public access, they would be handy because such tunnels are often damp places and drips are constant.  In mining especially, hydrological management is a significant aspect of site management and many resources are devoted variously (and sometimes concurrently) to (1) getting water into tunnels, (2) keeping water out of tunnels and (3) getting water out of tunnels.

Osculation through gritted teeth: Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017, left) and crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) providing a photo opportunity, Washington DC, 2012.

The car is the official presidential limousine, the nickname "the beast" (dating it's said from the administration of George W Bush (George XLIII, b 1946; US president 2001-2009) most popular with the public although to the Secret Service it's believed still to be code-named "stagecoach", a moniker adopted in 1981 because of the agents' association of one-time film-star Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989) with "cowboy western" movies.  Details of the construction of the modern presidential limousines are classified as secret but it's believed the things are built on a General Motors (GM) light truck chassis, the body a kind of "generic rendition" of a 1980s Cadillac (the last time they were close to the classic "full-sized" cars of the 1960s & 1970s), powered by large-displacement diesel or gas (petrol) V8 engines and fitted with some contemporary components (such as the headlamp assembly) to maintain a relationship with the Cadillacs available in showrooms.  Essentially a disguised armored car with extensive internal life-support systems, they're doubtless as safe an environment as is possible but they certainly lack the elegance of the classic presidential Lincoln Continentals of the 1960s, the platform which gained infamy after the assassination in Dallas of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963).

The Nuclear Umbrella

In geopolitics, the term “nuclear umbrella” describes the arrangement in which a nuclear-armed state extends the coverage of its nuclear arsenal to the defense of non-nuclear states.  Depending on the relationship or what’s politically possible, that can be by means either of a formal alliance or the “manufacturing” of a perception.  The obvious examples of formal alliances include the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO, 1949) and Warsaw Pact (1955-1991), the treaties under which the US and Soviet Union respectively undertook to apply the same threat of nuclear retaliation to an attack on signatory states as was applied to the homelands.  Although not something much discussed at the time of NATO’s formation, the nuclear umbrella later became a significant element in the attempts to limit nuclear proliferation, something which emerged as an issue in the early 1960s when it was feared that within a decade there would be dozens of states with nuclear-equipped military forces.

Members of the FFF (former first family) each maintain their own umbrella.

In situations where nominally allied states don’t have faith in the assurances of their partners, each can feel compelled to maintain their own nuclear umbrella; the term for this is the “independent nuclear deterrent” (IND).  It was the concern that rapidly there would be a growth in the number of nuclear-weapon states that led to the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (the NPT, 1970) being negotiated during the late 1960s and the US nuclear umbrella strategy underpins its effectiveness.

For its effectiveness to be maintained, the nuclear umbrella relies on its credibility and in this there are two aspects: (1) the states enjoying the umbrella’s protection must believe that if attacked, they could rely on their protector using their using the nuclear arsenal for their defense and (2) all potential adversaries must share this perception.  Since 1949, the “adversary” states have either believed this or not been prepared to take a risk by embarking on military action against those under the umbrella but among allies, there has been less certainty.  While there tensions within the Warsaw Pact, these were related to ideology rather than anything to do with military matters, within the US alliance systems such have been the concerns, very much because the perception of threat from Moscow and Beijing was much greater.

By contrast, the earlier British development of an independent nuclear deterrent was a special case in unique circumstances.  The British regarded the development of the original atomic bombs as a co-operative venture with the US (albeit it one in which their contribution rapidly diminished) and were miffed when US co-operation abruptly was withdrawn after 1945 and, understanding the implications of the new weapon, believed that their ongoing status as a world power depended upon its possession.  Although it wouldn't be until 1989 the musician Frank Zappa (1940-1993) published The Real Frank Zappa Book, His Majesty’s government in the 1940s would have agreed with the passage which read “…that to be a real country, you need to have a beer and an airline.  It helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a beer.”

France also adopted an IND, not because of any premonition of Zapparian theory but because Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) wasn’t certain a US president would order a nuclear strike if squadrons of Soviet tanks were spearheading 200 Red Army divisions rolling Western Europe or, as he put it: “Would the White House risk New York to save Paris?”, the same sentiment which would later compel him to withdraw France from NATO’s unified command.  The same unease is said also to be increasing east of Suez and in both Seoul and Tokyo there are murmurings of the need for an IND in an increasingly tense region, concerns heightened by some recent comments by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021).  Both Japan (In Japanese, the figurative noun “nuclear umbrella” is 核の傘) and South Korea (the Republic of Korea (RoK)) have for decades prospered under the US umbrella and for either country to seek to adopt their own would introduce a new dynamic with unpredictable consequences.  Many years ago, the Chinese foreign ministry organized some “leaks” which made clear that were Japan to seek an IND (something all agree it has the technical and industrial capacity to achieve within months), they could expect a preventative strike.  Whether or not that’s literally true, just the possibility of what would be unleashed does terrify.