A venerable old lady – the Ilyushin IL-18

She was born at a time when glasnost and perestroika were still only words in the dictionary. A four-engine, turboprop transport that was noisy inside and out, was difficult to fly and needed an oil-well to keep her in the air. Yet she formed the backbone of East European air transport for more years than most of us care to remember and, above all, she was beautiful. With perfectly circular fuselage, sleek wings and graceful vertical stabilizer, the IL-18, by appearance, was a queen among aircraft.
But where did this lady come from?

In the former Soviet Union aircraft were designated by “Bureaux”, each carrying the name of a famous designer. Sergey Vladimirovich Ilyushin was born on 30 March 1894, in Dilyalevo, in Russia. Ha was mobilized in the Russian army in 1914, to transfer soon after to the army air arm, where he received a pilot’s certificate in 1917. Eventually he joined the Red Army and was sent to study at the Zhukovsky Air Force Engineering Academy in Moscow, where he graduated in 1926. He attained the rank of lieutenant general in the Soviet Red Army engineering technical service, working also as a professor at his old academy. One of his earliest creations was the IL-2 (“Shturmovik”), an armored attack aircraft that entered service in 1939. After World War II he turned to designing civilian aircraft, amongst them the IL-12 and the IL-14 twin-engine transports, and, of course, the old

lady herself, the IL-18 “Moskva”. While these aircraft could, at the time, be called state-of-the-art, later creations of the Ilyushin Design Bureau, the IL-62 transport, the IL-76 cargo plane and the IL-86 widebody, were only sad shadows of more advanced western types. Ilyushin died on 10 February 1977. He must be watching with wary eyes and a lot of satisfaction how Russian aircraft construction is surging with a new life these days…

The prototype IL-18 first flew on 4 July 1957 and service use began with Aeroflot on 20 April 1959. Production ceased in 1968, by which time more than 600 IL-18s had been built, about 100 of which went into service with airlines in Easter Europe, Africa, Cuba and China. Some are still flying in far away places, sporting liveries that would never have been tolerated in the hay-day of the queen.
The first standard version, designated the IL-18V, carried 84 passengers and was equipped with four 4000 ehp (2938 kW) Ivchenko AI-20K turboprop engines. A later version, the IL-18E, sported more power (four AI-20M turboprops of 4250 ehp each) and a new interior. Finally, the IL-18D carried more fuel and the gross mass was increased from 61200 kg (134925lb) to 64000 kg (141100 lb).
The maximum cruising speed of the IL-18E was 675 km/h (375 knots), though airlines preferred using the more economical cruising speed of 625 km/h (347 knots). The range with maximum fuel was a respectable 5200 km (3250 miles); however, with maximum payload this dropped to 3200 km (2000 miles).

The office up front had room (and plenty to do) for a crew of five – two pilots, flight engineer, navigator and a radio operator. The cockpit changed little over the years and as most IL-18s were kept in operation way beyond their time, in the early 1980s a visit to that cramped compartment would have delighted the heart of any aviation museum curator. Russians always went for the practical over finesse in matters technical (and

goodness knows, it often served them very well indeed) and the Moskva was no exception. Oversize switches and handles, roughly edged logos, panels that shook and rattled, instruments that would have felt right at home in a steam locomotive were all standard equipment in that cockpit. The few pieces of modern equipment, like the DME and the SSR control panel, actually looked out of place. But then, it all worked pretty well and the whole thing was probably perfectly suited to operating also in the remote areas of the icy Siberia. Yes, the Northern Light was but a beautiful veil for this Queen of the air.

Passenger comfort also left a little to be desired. The standard accommodation was for 110 in two sections. Six abreast in front, five abreast in a rear compartment although some airlines used a different arrangement. The back compartment which was to right of the rear boarding door was used as the first-class seating, not least because the noise level towards the tail was somewhat lower. And noise there was aplenty everywhere, makingnormal conversation all but impossible. The toilets were strategically places in line with the variable pitch propellers, in the area of the most intense noise and vibration. No one in their right mind ever stayed there longer than was absolutely necessary in spite of the fact the toilet seats tended to give a high frequency massage quite unavailable even in the best fitness salon… On the other hand, which other aircraft type could boast of stainless steel toilet walls and fittings?

The IL-18 was also well known to, and often dreaded by, air traffic controllers. It was often difficult to integrate the old lady into the approach sequence of all-jet airports. Those sleek wings had only basic flaps fitted, resulting in a higher than average approach speed. Rolling take-offs were the exception rather then the rule. In the air she was a slow climber and descents were also conducted at a leisurely rate to avoid exceeding horizontal speed limits. Interestingly enough, there was a marked difference in the way some airlines flew their IL-18s. Pilots from Interflug of East Germany tended to ride her really hard, coaxing almost jetlike performance when wind conditions were right. Aeroflot and Malev pilots seemed to have more respect for her capricious ways.

In spite of the obvious shortcomings, the IL-18 did her job and was the undisputed flagship of most East European airlines. In the early years, the pride of one of them, Malev of Hungary, went so far as to have the propeller cones of each of their IL-18s painted a different color. Yellow, red, green… the spot of color in front of those revolving silver discs added an almost Braniff-like touch to their aircraft. It was also easy for spotters to deduce the aircraft registration. If you saw red, it was HA-MOF for sure. Later, probably for cost-saving reasons, they all ended up with boring white or silver cones.

Apart from the more usual duty of carrying passengers on international services in Europe and the middle-East, the role of some IL-18s was more exotic. One such assignment was to act as a communications platform on the occasions of Mr. Brezhnev’s (and some of his forebears in the Soviet Communist party) visits abroad. With no other means of staying in contact with those left at home to tend the Kremlin, an IL-18 would be kept circling at high altitude until the big man’s own plane touched down and he was once again in easy reach of a telephone. In some countries the IL-18 was the favorite government VIP aircraft until more modern types became available.

Inevitably, the appearance of jet aircraft also in Eastern Europe slowly pushed the IL-18 into the background. Some airlines kept the few remaining examples in passenger service, while others, including Hungarian Malev, turned the into cargo aircraft. This venture had its limits though on account of the lady’s notoriously small passenger and baggage hold doors. Things were not helped at all by the manufacturer’s tacit refusal to even consider a cargo door conversion. I guess they knew the structural limits of their aircraft… Anyway, with the old doors in place, a 260 liter refrigerator in its cardboard box was already too big to be accepted for carriage, probably a big headache for those trying to sell IL-18 cargo space.

Doors or no doors, the Malev cargo operation was a success. Crates of fruit, eggs and eventually chickens were all small enough to pass through. Unexpectedly though, these latter led to complications.
When one of the big farms started exporting live chickens, it was only natural they should come for help to the national airline. The cargo people were happy, as the chicks, one day old at the time of transport, were housed in nice cardboard boxes, 101 chicks to a box. The supernumerary plus 1 chick was supposed to account for the unavoidable casualties while in transit. Now can you imagine the stench and noise created by a few tons of day old chicks? We couldn’t, but according to the crews it was quite phenomenal.
The first few flights went well, but then summer came, and one day they found half the “passengers” dead on arrival at destination. The Arab buyer refused to accept the shipment and even threatened to break the contract if this ever happened again. Since a lot of money had been riding on those flights, the experts got together to investigate. They traced events right from the moment the chicks were hatched in their mechanical mother, through transport to the airport and finally to the loading operation. Everything appeared in order. Next, they wanted to look at the flight itself.

Chicks loaded, doors closed, ready to start engines… and this is where they found the glitch. The air conditioning system of these old planes had never been particularly good, but its designer, bless his soul, probably never in his wildest dream had imagined that his contraption would have to feed fresh air to chicken… Half of the poor birds were dead from lack of oxygen and high temperature before the plane had even left the stand. Careful calculations showed that once in the air the engines could ventilate the cabin sufficiently, but there was just no way to do this while the plane was on the ground. Eventually a solution was found, however.
Air traffic control was asked to handle the chicken flights with priority, thus reducing to a minimum the time from engine start to take-off, while at the same time the plane would taxi and take-off with the doors, which opened inwards, wide open. It was quite a sight to see these old birds lumber into the air with the two, gaping black holes in the fuselage and we didn’t want to even think about the crew member detailed to close the doors…
This was not the end of the story, however. That summer had been a real beast from a traffic point of view. Flights were being delayed left, right and center and the finely orchestrated chicken operation started to go sour once again. A 15 minute departure delay, a mere annoyance for human passengers, was a sure death warrant as far as the chicks were concerned.
Now you must know that, by international agreement, certain categories of flights are never delayed, no matter what. These include ambulance flights, aircraft on search and rescue or humanitarian missions, as well as flights carrying head of state types. Could we somehow have the chicken flights included in one such category? – came the polite request from our airline. They seemed very reluctant to take no for an answer, quoting big money, the national interest and the possible wrath of the “greens”, so we had no choice but to bring up the subject at the next regional meeting dealing with air traffic flow management.
The matter drew a lot of smiles and head shaking, but our persuasive powers and vivid description of the sad sight of a planeload of dead chicks finally assured a kind of victory. We could not really expect to put the word “chicken” in the text of a multinational agreement, but if you ever have the chance to look closely at one of these early documents on, you will find a sentence giving exemption from flow management delays to flights “as specifically requested by State authorities”. Like IL-18 flights carrying live chicken, of course…
The IL-18 still flies here and there. If you see one, listen to the song of her engines… It is not often that you will hear a Queen sing.

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