The Way of an Artist and Artilleryman, who Invented the Backpack Parachute
A talented person, they say, is talented in everything. The life of Gleb Yevgenyevich Kotelnikov is a vivid confirmation of this. An artilleryman by profession, a tax official by life circumstances, he passionately loved the theater and even performed in plays at the Petersburg People’s House, becoming renowned as the inventor of the first backpack parachute.
From Cannon to Stage
Gleb Yevgenyevich Kotelnikov was born in 1872 in St. Petersburg. His father taught mathematics at the Agricultural and Technological Institutes. His mother was the daughter of Ivan Zaitsev, a former serf who became a famous artist; she played the piano well and sang. The boy’s inclination toward the arts undoubtedly came from her. Yet, he also gravitated toward invention, along with interests in photography and aeronautics.
Gleb was barely 17 when his father passed away.
The young man entered the Kiev Artillery School and graduated with distinction. His army service as a junior officer was short-lived; Kotelnikov soon joined the tax authority and moved to one of the Don Cossack villages. It was here that he found time to engage in amateur theater.
Later, when the family moved to St. Petersburg, Kotelnikov decided to pursue a career in theater. An artist, playwright, composer of popular songs, he successfully performed in plays at the Petersburg People’s House.
The Idea Was in the Air
On October 6, 1910, an All-Russian aviation holiday was held in St. Petersburg. The racetrack hosted airplane flights, competitions among aviators. However, the festivities were marred by the death of one of them: Lev Matsievich fell out of the plane’s cockpit while performing a complex maneuver.
Gleb Kotelnikov, who was present at the holiday, was shaken by the absurdity of this death: a man had learned to fly but couldn’t protect himself. It was this tragic incident that led Kotelnikov to his most significant invention. He seriously contemplated how to make flights safer.
Parachutes already existed, used for jumps from balloons. But they were unsuitable for jumps from airplanes: the speed of an airplane far exceeded that of a balloon, and moreover, parachutes were cumbersome and there was no space for them in the aircraft.
Safety in flight had concerned many long before Kotelnikov. However, during the pre-Kotelnikov era, parachutes were supposed to be deployed inside the aircraft and in the confined space of the cockpit, which was not feasible. Inventors repeated the same mistake, placing the parachute in the fuselage of the airplane so that it would open before the pilot left the aircraft.
Even the parachute suit, which the Austrian Reichenbach had sewn in the late 19th century, was not a salvation: while testing it, the tailor-inventor jumped from the Eiffel Tower and died. How the parachute would behave in an airplane was unknown.
A Shawl from a Lady’s Handbag
Kotelnikov introduced a new meaning to the rescue device: “Always with me!” While working, he realized that three rules were necessary for a parachute: it had to be with the pilot during the flight, not obstruct when the pilot urgently left the plane, and had to open automatically.
The bulky contraption did not meet these requirements. Kotelnikov couldn’t imagine how to reduce its size until he unexpectedly remembered how a familiar actress pulled a huge shawl made of thick silk out of a small handbag. The parachute had to be made of silk, not canvas, which the previous designers had used!
But where to place it? Inside the aviator’s helmet? During tests, a doll with such a parachute landed remarkably. But what if it was a person? Calculations showed that for a person weighing approximately 80 kilograms, the canopy should be at least 50 square meters! No, it wouldn’t fit in the helmet.
Then came the idea of placing the parachute in a backpack, and the backpack’s latch connected to the aircraft’s fuselage with a cord. Thus, the parachute would automatically open after the jump or the pilot’s ejection.
Kotelnikov also devised the attachment of the parachute. Previously, the parachute was attached only to the belt, and during the shock that occurred when the dome opened, the aviator often suffered injuries to the abdominal organs. Kotelnikov attached the parachute to several points on the aviator’s suit, and later also invented additional shock absorbers in the form of shoulder elastics. Along the edge of the parachute, a steel cable was inserted, which, when released, helped the dome open.
Tests of the first model of Kotelnikov’s parachute “RK-1” in 1912 and a diagram of the modernized parachute backpack, 1924.
Away from Prying Eyes
Kotelnikov worked on the experimental models independently: he made a mannequin, devised a special shape for the silk canopy wedges, and his wife assisted in sewing it. He did not involve anyone in his work, fearing that someone else might patent his invention, as had already happened, for example, with the corking machine for wineries, which he had not patented, and it was patented abroad by cunning individuals. For the same reason, parachute testing was conducted in the Novgorod region, far from prying eyes.
In Petersburg, after the Novgorod experiment, Kotelnikov tested the parachute attached to an automobile. When the parachute opened at full speed, the car’s engine stalled. No one thought back then that braking devices might be needed for airplanes. Yet, twenty-five years later, precisely such a parachute managed to stop a heavy airplane on the ice when it landed with an expedition to the North Pole.
At that distant time, however, the Russian military department did not show interest in the invention, “RK-1,” which stood for “Russian, Kotelnikov, Model 1.” Officials cited absurd arguments. For example, that a person’s legs would inevitably detach during a jump. Or that the pilot would bail out on the parachute at the slightest danger, causing the airplane to crash.
Aviation backpack parachute “RK-1”
The Challenging Path of Invention
However, one man dared to claim Kotelnikov’s invention. In anticipation of profits, a businessman from a Petersburg aviation firm provided funds for the creation of two parachutes and presented samples at an international competition in Paris in 1913. Vladimir Ossovsky, a student at the conservatory, volunteered to test the backpack parachute. Jumps from the Eiffel Tower were prohibited, but he successfully jumped from a tall bridge in Rouen.
However, the businessman failed to honor his agreements with Kotelnikov and did not patent the invention abroad. Furthermore, he did not return the parachute samples, and within six months, similar products began to be produced in Europe. Moreover, the imperial government allocated huge funds to purchase a license for the parachute from the French company “Juchmes.” Truly, there is no prophet in his own country.
Kotelnikov was so offended that he distanced himself from inventing. However, with the onset of World War I, he was remembered, and he was asked to create 70 parachutes for the “Ilya Muromets” giant airplanes. Then, an order was placed for the creation of a cargo parachute.
In 1918, the “Juchmes” company parachutes were recommended to be taken out of service. The priority remained with Kolesnikov’s invention.
Throughout these years, Kotelnikov improved his parachute. In the new models, the metal backpack was replaced with a soft canvas one, the fastener became much simpler, and most importantly, the straps were laid in special cells inside the backpack, preventing them from tangling.
Inventor G. E. Kotelnikov
Kotelnikov had many other discoveries and useful models. But it was precisely the invention of the parachute that led to the creation of parachuting sports and airborne troops in the country.
In August 1935, the USSR hosted the 1st All-Russian Paratroopers’ Rally, where the not-so-young designer was present as an honorary guest. During the Great Patriotic War, at the end of 1941, Kotelnikov was evacuated from the besieged Leningrad to Moscow.
His health was undermined by hunger, and he was nearly blind. Nevertheless, despite this, Gleb Yevgenyevich continued his work. Now, on a book. He wanted to tell the story of creating the parachute, about his ideas, about those who supported and believed in him.
He named his literary work, of course, “The Parachute.” He managed to see the book, which was published in 1943. A year later, he passed away.
By Marina Parenskaya