^ GOES TO m \lUfiOlS DIVISION OF INFORMATION War Production Board Washington, D, C Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. A charge is made on all overdue books. University of Illinois Library npF i — " "JUL 1 4 1988. L161— H41 UrilVtKSI TY OF iLUNUIb URhAN/* FOREWORD This is a war of production — machine against machine. It is total war, and the phrase means what it says — total. Our way of Hfe is based on machine production. When that way of life is called upon to defend itself, it is natural that mechanical power, which has had so large a part in its con- struction, sliould assume an equally large share in its preservation. The ability of American industry to produce is beyond question. No one doubts that we have the men, the machines, the genius, and the skills to make anything we want to make in any quantity. Our industrial record for the past 50 years proves that we can do it. The job now in hand is to organize our vast resources. Every skill, every man engaged in this effort must now produce toward a single goal. There is only one answer to those who seek to rule the world by force of planes and ships and tanks and guns. The answer is more planes, more ships, more tanks, and more guns. The implements of war sufficient for the task in hand are not to be had overnight — neither for the asking, nor for the appropriating of money, nor by any means except the full unstinted concentration of the productive resources, human and material, of this productive Nation. The sustained ability to produce is itself a weapon. In this war of assembly lines it is the master weapon, governing grand strategy, military tactics, and human courage alike. The road that reaches back from the smoking battlefronts in the Far East, in Russia, in other parts of Europe and Africa to the assembly lines in • America is a long and tortuous one. But longer and more difficult still is the trail that stretches from the assembly lines on backward — to the very beginning of the ships and the tanks and the planes and the guns. ^ It is a road that winds back beyond the machine tools — the turret lathes, <^ the boring mills, and the giant planers that shape the metal — to the forging ^ of the metal itself, and from there to the steel furnaces, the smelters, and the kilns, and thence into the bowels of the earth, deep into the ore. It is a road that is lined every step of the way with high-tension cables. It is a road that is crowded with men, clangorous with the sound of hammers, and the J I 1 9508 1 air above it is heavy and hot with sulphur and smoke and the rumble of traveling cranes. It is all of this, but mostly it is a road that is paved with solid, sweating human hours. It takes time to build a tank. But it takes even more time to build the giant press that forms the turret for the tank. And still more time to make the boring mill that cuts the ring of the turret to size — to an exact size — within two-thousandths of an inch of perfection. Fortunately there is a system of work which pays dividends in time. It begins slowly, consuming man-hour after man-hour with painful delibera- tion. And it ends in a teeming rush. Step by step, designers, engineers, and skilled craftsmen build man-brains and man-skills into machine tools. Tireless, inanimate material is given boundless power — power controlled to the last ounce and directed to the last fraction of a fraction. When the machine tool is built, the power of man to work with metal has been magnified. This is the system which is the basis of our material civilization. It is mass production, based on the principle of interchangeable parts. In peace- time, it means more goods for more people, at lower prices. It is a working force for democracy. And it works in wartime, too. Just now it is working in behalf of the free people of the world — whether they live in this country, in Europe, or in the Far East. As a Nation we have contracted to become the Arsenal of Democracy. It is the biggest and most responsible contract ever written. If we are to fulfill it on schedule and in good measure, there is no time to lose. There is noth- ing to do but work, produce, and fight. Director of Production, War Production Board. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 http://archive.org/details/productiongoestoOOunit TOOLS FOR PLANES Vertical multiple spindle machine boring cylinder barrels. Internal grinding machine finishing plane propeller hubs. Sensitive drill machining tube parts for aircraft frame. Five-position drill boring bolt holes in cylinder Hange. PLANES Into the building of a bomber go more than 100,000 man-hours of work. There are more than 30,000 different parts and, counting duplicates, there are several hundred thousand separate pieces of metal. The engines them- selves are made of 8,000 separate pieces of metal, each of which must be machined on machine tools. The carburetor of a large airplane engine is a more complicated bit of engineering than the entire engine of your automobile — one cylinder unit develops as much horsepower as an eight- cylinder automobile. In the last war, airplane engines had to be overhauled every 50 hours. Today, because their vital parts are machined to within a few ten-thou- sandths of an inch, they can go 600 hours at a stretch. Such precise work- manship is making airplanes for the Army and Navy that are the finest of their types in any air force. These airplanes will be made in such numbers that the United States will have tlie largest air force in the world. It is 38 years since the Wright brothers flew the first airplane at Kitty- hawk, N. C, and in that time the aircraft industry in the United States has made something over 100,000 planes of all kinds, from puddle jumpers tied together with bailing wire, to an 82-ton Army bomber. Now we are in a production program that calls for, in one year, substantially more than half the total number of airplanes made since 1904. This means a complete military plane about every 8I/2 minutes of every day in 1942. The American aircraft industry, when the need came, was not geared for anywhere near this many planes. Compared with the present demand, the production for World War I was indeed infinitesimal. At its outbreak, for instance, we had .55 airplanes. From a military point of view, 51 of these were classified as obsolete and four as obsolescent: our air force, zero. Up to the end of November 1918, we produced a single type of bomber, shipping abroad slightly more than half of the total of 3,227. We produced 13,574 Liberty engines and shipped more than a third of them abroad, and produced for use here 8,000 training planes and 16,000 training engines. Aside from this brief flurry of activity, serious production of military aircraft was not started until four years ago, when European nations looked to this country for help in attempting to overcome the lead taken by the Axis. In 1938 — the year of Munich — our aircraft plants were producing about 100 military planes a month. Then France placed an unprecedented fj. S. Plane Program Started Slowly in the Year of Munich, Hundreds of Plants Converted to Build Parts tor Aircraft order for 200 pursuit planes. Britain followed and France doubled its order; and by 1939, the 36,000 shop employees of the industry were building warplanes at the rate of 200 a month. Meanwhile, Congress approved a program for 5,500 aircraft for our armed forces and at the end of the year the industry which had been primarily interested in flivvers and commercial transports could count a production of more than 2,100 military planes. By the spring of 1940 the rate was nearing 500 a month. As impressive as this expansion record seemed, the industry and the Nation at large had to catch breath after President Roosevelt in May told Congress he would like to see this Nation "geared up to the ability to turn out at least 50,000 planes a year. Furthermore," he added, "I believe this Nation should plan at this time a program that would provide us with 50,000 military and naval planes." This planning program began to make its tremendous demands felt in every part of the industry — assembly plants were doubled and redoubled, part makers brought in more and more shops. One single plant now uses more workers than were in the entire industry three years ago, and the total number of productive employees in over 30 plants is well above 300,000. These newly trained men and women have joined the veteran mechanics from other industries who have brought to this field the skill to shape pieces of metal. Many of their old familiar machine tools have been adapted to this work but many new ones have had to be built because tolerances unheard of in other industries are everyday measurements in aircraft plants. Men and machines were to do a job that never had been done before: Bring quan- tity production to an industry dedicated to hand-building its product. There was not only a change within the industry, but also one in its scope. Automobile makers were becoming interested in airplanes. Plans for new buildings more spacious than any others in the world began coming off drawing boards. While continuing to run automobiles off their regular production lines, the major companies took on substantial orders for aircraft engines, parts, subassemblies, and complete planes. This was the "make-ready" program for the objectives set in 1940 for this year and next year. Meanwhile production in existing plants in the aircraft in,dustry began to rise steadily. From 561 planes in July 1940, the rate went to over 800 in December, and the year's total was just over 6,000. In the first quarter of 1941, about 1,000 planes a month were produced, and by September this figure had been doubled. For military reasons, exact figures later than that time are not available for publication. As new facilities came into production and old ones gained new skill, the aircraft industry added to its fast-growing family plants that once made auto- mobiles and bodies, household refrigerators, hardware, hydraulic-control equipment, pneumatic tools, electric generating equipment, electrical equip- ment, rubber products, elevators, pumps, and railroad cars. Hundreds of subcontractors feed thousands of parts to these plants. The fastest military airplane in the world with speed well in excess of 400 miles an hour is the Army's P—38, the Lockheed Lightning. This low-wing monoplane, with tricycle retractable landing gear and two 12-cylinder super- charged engines rated at 1,150 horsepower, weighs about 13,500 pounds, is armed with 37-mm. cannon and .50-caliber machine guns. Similarly armed is the Bell Airacobra, P-39, a single-place, single-engine pursuit plane that weighs about 6,000 pounds. As a middle-altitude fighter, as well as for attack on ground targets, this plane has no equal. The Republic Thunderbolt, P 47, is the fastest single-eiifjiiie airplane in the world. Hea\ily armored and bristling with both large- and small- caliber guns, this plane has done 680 miles an hour in a power-dive test and more than 400 miles an hour in level flight. It is powered by a 2,000 horse- power engine and has a four-blade propeller with a diameter of more than 12 feet. Comparable in weight to the P—38, the P—47 is slightly smaller. Its length is 32 feet 8 inches, its height 13 feet, and its wing span 41 feet. One of the latest Navy fighters is the Grumman Wildcat, a fast, maneuver- able, single-engine plane. Earlier models were used by the Marines in the defense of Wake Island. Lt. Edward O'Hare, the Navy's first ace of the war, piloted a Jl ildcat when he downed five Japanese planes and disabled a sixth in a single day over the Pacific. The Airacobra and Lightning are flying with the RAF under the same names. The British call the Navy's W^ildcat the Martlet. The Curtiss Tommyhawk, known to the United States air force as the P—40, is fighting over four continents — with the Russians in Europe, the British in Africa, the Flying Tigers in Asia, and the Americans in Australia. The newer Curtiss Kittyhawk, Brewster Buffalo, Republic Lancer, and North American Mus- tang are among other American-made fighters serving the United Nations. Bombers are getting increased emphasis in production schedules and high priority ratings this year for the obvious military reason that there is a pressing need for this type of long-range oflfensive plane. The program now in eff'ect calls for large quantities of four-engine bomb- ers. These planes weigh nearly seven times as much as some single-engine fighters, and to produce them takes considerably more man-hours, more raw materials, more engines, and more plant space. It is generally agreed among military observers that in the heavy bomber class the enemy has nothing to compare with our Boeing B~17, Flying Fortress, or our Consolidated B-24. The British have been using both these four-engine bombers for some time and have renamed the latter the Liberator. A nautical version of the B—24 is the Navy's flying boat Coronada. In the medium bomber class, the American Army has two different planes — the B—25 and B—26 — whose range, speed, and bomb-carrying ability are greater than any similar bomber in any other air force. The Martin B—26 two-engine bomber is the fastest medium bomber in the world. It has a slightly higher top speed than the B—25, made by North American. How- ever, the latter bomber has speed nearly as great as famous foreign fighter planes. Brig. Gen. James Doolittle led a group of B-25's in the successful bombing of Tokyo in April. The Navy's two-engine bomber is the flying boat Catalina. One of this type, on British patrol, sighted the fleeing German battleship Bismarck and directed the British fleet to its position for the kill. The Army's twin-engine Douglas light attack bomber A— 20, is so fast the British use an earlier version, the Havoc, as a night fighter. American- built attack bombers going to the United Nations air forces also include the Boston, Baltimore, Hudson, and Ventura. The Army and Navy use the same Douglas dive bomber, called the A— 24 by the former service and the Dauntless by the latter. Other dive bombers include the Vultee Vengeance and Curtiss Helldiver. Besides fighters and bombers, the industry is building numbers of obser- vation planes, transports, and trainers. While all these are being turned out for the use of the United Nations, newer planes are coming out of the blueprint stage. These will be faster, larger, have greater load ability, and more range than the ones already known as the "finest in the world." Even Better Planes Are Being Designed tor Early Production TOOLS FOR SHIPS Ship propeller, cast in one piece, being lifted into place. Worker boring a large engine shaft coupling for a ship. 48-inch engine lathe machining tripk i\|juiK-,ioii engine rod. Plate planer being set up for machining ship plates. SHIPS The biggest, most complex single job in solid metal since man began to work with metal thousands of years ago is the building of a large ship. It takes approximately three years to build a battleship. Into the building of a Liberty Ship — an emergency cargo vessel that has been stripped of frills and standardized for rapid production — go some 500,000 man-hours and the time needed will average about three months. The final assembly station in the building of a ship is the shipway. It is here that all the parts are built into a whole. But to talk of assembling a ship is like talking of assembling a skyscraper. Assembly is the big part of the job. But not all of it. For generators and turbines must be built. Giant shafts must be turned. Propellers must be forged and machined. Tons of plate must be cut, shaped, and scarfed. All the work is done in machine or structural shops, some in the shipyard itself, some outside. But wherever it is done, it is a job for machine tools. Making gigantic parts fit to a thousandth part of an inch is just about the hardest job in building a ship. Some of the gears that go into an engine have to be cut in air-conditioned rooms, since the pieces of metal from which they are made are so large that change of a few degrees in temperature will cause them to contract or expand enough to throw measurements off balance. Temperature rise may change the size of a small rod so slightly that it would hardly make any difference, but the same change in the tre- mendous gears of a ship may be more than enough to ruin the job. So the temperature in cutting rooms must be stabilized. Even if there were only a few of these huge parts to fit to near-perfection, the demand on time and machines would be considerable. But there are many such parts. Into a ship go turbines as high as a room, gears larger than an entire motor truck, propeller blades taller than a man, valves big enough for a man to walk through. Many of the facilities now making equipment for ships are either new or converted from some landlubber industry. Manufacturers of paper ma- chinery are machining shafting; makers of oil-well machinery are building deck equipment such as winches, windlasses, and steering gears; stove makers are producing lifeboats; marble-cutting equipment is doing rough preliminary work on shafting. I^andtubher industries Turn to Producing Parts for Vessels iVeif Assembly Methods Save Mueh Time in Building Liberties The size of the shipbuilding program alone would mean a tremendous expansion of a going industry. But the United States did not have a fully going shipbuilding industry to begin with. It was only on its way at the time the need for merchant shipping began to be felt in the summer of 1940. Shipbuilding in American yards practically stopped after the World War program was ended early in 1922. This old program was quite sizable. It hit a peak of 5,051,759 deadweight tons in 1919 — after the Armistice had been signed — and accounted for an aggregate of 14,525,939 deadweight tons during the five-year period from 1917 to 1922. But during the next five years, our yards delivered only 699,767 deadweight tons — 96 ships. In the following five years, 602,823 tons — 66 ships. In the next three years, 1934 to 1936, a total of 16 ships was built. This meant America's shipbuilding industry was at keel bottom. With the impetus given by the Merchant Marine Act of 1936, the industry began to stir, slowly. By 1940 it was able to build 56 ships in 12 months — more than any year since 1922. Last year 1,100,000 deadweight tons of shipping were delivered and plans were made for approximately 6,000,000 tons for delivery in 1942. This schedule — 20 percent larger than last war's peak — was replaced by one for 8,000,000 tons set by the President as the new 1942 objective. Merchant ships of 2,000 tons or more flying the American flag in 1941 totaled a Httle over 10,000,000 tons. The President, in ordering 8,000,000 tons, asked shipyards to build in one year nearly as much tonnage as the merchant fleet had in it last fall. This merchant shipping program was in addition to a naval ship program which was even greater. In July 1940, there were about 60 ways available for merchant ships. The present plans call for nearly 300 ways, some being added to old yards and some being built in 20-odd completely new yards. Concentration in the merchant shipping program is on the 416-foot Liberties and each one delivered adds 10,500 deadweight tons to America's merchant marine. Others in the program include three main types of standard cargo vessels, ranging up to 12,600 tons; two types of large tankers, averaging about 16,500 tons; troop ships, smaller cargo ships, barges, tugs, and the like. In designing the Liberty Ship thought was given to minimum cost, rapidity of construction, and simplicity of operation. In order to get engines for the Liberties in the numbers needed, a less advanced type of propulsion machinery is used. It is a triple-expansion, reciprocating engine of 2,500 horsepower and it can drive the ship at 11 knots. Extensive use is made of welding to save time and steel. Assembly work is possible by a modifica- tion of fabrication methods. Delay in procurement is reduced by centraliz- ing purchases of materials and equipment. A Liberty Ship carries a com- plement of 44 officers and men and costs upward of $1,600,000. .,*«l^!^«..is»i TANKS PoUND-FOR-POUND, tanks being made with American skill surpass any similar type in mobility and mechanical reliability. Hard-hitting, tough, capable of outrunning and outlasting other models, American tanks didn't just happen to be good. Superiority was built into them by hundreds of precision tools. Each part is made to exact measurements and machine tools used to make them are of a special nature and size. Thirty to 50 percent of the weight of any tank is armor plate. To build a tank, hard, thick steel that cannot be pierced by a rifle or machine-gun bullet must be pressed and drilled and turned and reamed and mille