Tiny Museum Highlights a Work in Progress
By ANN Senior Editor Tim Kern
"As far as I know,
there aren't any," said Mark Timken, when I asked him how many
Focke-Wulf 190s are flying today. He's out to change that. "I
got lucky in the stock market," he explained, "and I cashed out
when it was worth something. I moved to a smaller house... I've put
everything into this," he explained.
"This" is a FW-190F-8 restoration project. Mark's plane was
featured in Aero-News a few years ago, when it was just a
mile down the road in Kissimmee (FL), and on Tom Reilly's Flying
Tigers Warbird Museum 'to-do' list; but Reilly's projects kept
growing, and the FW-190 was... getting older, so Mark rented an air
conditioned industrial building in a strip mall, not far away,
where he and a handful of devotees are remanufacturing the rare
Nazi warbird.
"The air conditioning really helps," Mark explained. "Not only
is it nicer for the people who come here to see the work; but it's
really easier to work where it's cool -- and there's a whole lot
corrosion damage," than in the open air of central Florida, where
Summer is hot, wet, and humid... and lasts for seven months each
year.
An example of some of
the truly rare and eclectic items Mark has preserved is a perfect
wooden drop tank -- aluminum was in such short supply that they
made gas tanks of wood (right). It's a truly amazing example of the
art of a desperate regime. Other examples of assemblies -- bomb
racks, for instance -- show the evolution of manufacturing, as they
got simpler and used fewer resources, as the Third Reich faced
shortages of materials and encountered increasing difficulties in
transportation; these were compounded by the increased use of slave
labor, which was neither highly-trained nor willing. There is so
much commentary on history, even aside from the machine itself,
that one can easily get lost in imagining what it could have been
like in the early 1940s in Germany, either as a laborer, or even as
an engineer who had to overcome the rising tide of Allied
domination.
Weisse Eins ("White 1"), FW 190 F8, W Nr 931862, has a
rich history and saw action while serving with JG 5 in Norway. The
aircraft was last flown during the famous Battle of Fordefjord on
February 9, 1945. It came to rest on a snow covered mountain after
its pilot was forced to bail out. In September 1983, it was
recovered and displayed at Flesland airport, for the Royal
Norwegian Air Force Aircraft Museum. Several years after that, the
aircraft was sent to the Texas Air Museum for static
restoration.
Mark has been meticulous about the project, which is a concours
rebuild. "Rebuild" is too light a word; the project is a total
remanufacturing. Virtually nothing of the original was usable as it
was when Mark bought it. Some of the hundreds of jewel-like
machined parts are on display at the bird's website -- if you're a
machinist, you'll appreciate what's gone into this project so far.
As for realism, Mark's shop even sports some original FW factory
fixtures and jigs -- and he's using them again...
Now that Mark's collection has been moved to the new digs, he is
of course, interested in sharing the project. He has set up a
foundation (a 501 c3) to help fund the program, and he has set up a
lot of the interesting bits of the FW in display cases, so you can
see what it's made of.
There are little vials of original hydraulic oil, for instance;
and instruments, including some rare and unusual ones. Manuals,
photos -- it's hard to imagine how much of history can be held in
such a compact area. Some of the most-interesting items I saw are
the "before" and "after" renderings of original parts and
subassemblies. Seeing these side-by-side gives some idea of just
how huge this project is. If you're not getting close enough to the
treasures, Mark (above, in the 'electrics room') will pull the
parts out of the storage boxes, in the workshop.
When you've made your
donation (Mark asks for $15), you then get a personally-guided
tour, where each of the airplane's systems -- electronics,
avionics, and all mechanicals -- are laid out. Ask him anything --
he knows what he has, and can give you the history on it. Don't
think of the donation as a steep price of admission; think of it as
your part in the million or so dollars that are still needed to get
it back into the air. Another thing that's unusual about your tour,
is that the 'curator' himself conducts it. You'll get your money's
worth... When you're visiting (or on line), you can also help the
effort by buying a very nice T-shirt, or a cap.
There are two fuselages -- one's a sort of guide, a buck; the
other will fly. When Mark needs a part, he first tries to find it.
Failing that, he has it made. There are thousands of brand-new FW
parts in that building; I mentioned that Mark must know every
machinist in Florida.
"The whole country, more like," he joked. Anything that was too
corroded, or rusted, or bent -- or shot full of holes (as
below) -- Mark has a new one made. Even some fairly
complicated stampings (above) are not out of the question. If the
plane needs it, the plane gets it.
Mark has spent time with the octegenarian pilot of his machine
(Heinz Orlowski) [the family of another of the plane's pilots, the
late Werner Gayko, shared many of their treasured photos with
Mark's website --ed.], and has learned a lot of the lore that goes
along with a combat veteran. He's willing to share those stories,
too -- an uncommon treat, and well-appreciated. No -- I won't give
away White 1's history; I'll say that it's worth hearing,
however.
So, you, walking
through the museum, get to see a restoration project, a massive
sorting project, a collection of eclectic spares (sometimes Mark
would buy a particular lot of parts, and some of them wouldn't be
for his airplane -- anybody out there want a V-12 Jumo, like this
one?), and enough parts to build probably two or three
nearly-complete FW-190s, plus his one complete, flying example. The
other thing about White 1 that you'll like is that you can
ask nearly anything about the airplane, and find out the
answer.
Mark, interestingly enough, isn't a pilot. He's planning on
flying the old fighter, but first, he wants to make sure it's going
to fly. He can be ready to fly it, he figures, long before it's
ready to be flown. When it does fly, though, you can be sure it
will be ready.