Some Beverley blues
This is part one of some musings on that unique, loveable and occasionally exasperating monster the Beverley; part two, with some reflections on its operation, to follow shortly.
"Sure as Hell won't replace the airplane" one bemused Yank is said to have expostulated on first beholding a Beverley; well maybe not, but equally certain was that, in its time, no mere aeroplane could conceivably have taken its place. During a relatively short life it performed more useful work, in often arduous and highly demanding environments, than many other types achieve in life spans several times the length. This year has seen the sixty-first anniversary of its introduction to service, a good time to recall memories fond or otherwise.
With a glider ancestry dating back to WW2, the Beverley was a development of the General Aircraft Company's GAL 60 Universal Freighter. Before this aircraft could make a first flight its parent company was taken over by the Blackburn Aircraft Co, who conveyed the prototype in pieces to a new home at Brough; here it was duly assembled, and a successful first flight carried out in June 1950. By this time the Air Ministry spec to which it was built had been upgraded, and to meet this an improved version was produced and first flown in June 1953; with four Bristol Centaurus engines in place of the original Hercules, plus other changes such as rear clamshell doors and a tail boom offering passenger accommodation, this resulted in an initial RAF order for twenty aircraft that was later increased to a total of forty-seven.
The first unit to re-equip with the Beverley, no 47 Sqdn of RAF Abingdon, received its initial delivery in March 1956; the following year 53 Sqdn was similarly equipped, and for the next decade the noisy giant was a familiar UK sight as it bumbled its way around the Thames Valley and many other areas. In the same year the Beverley became established at Dishforth, where 242 OCU became responsible for crew training; here, 30 Sqdn also re-equipped with the aircraft but moved to Nairobi two years later. The first overseas unit to acquire them was 84 Sqdn at Aden in mid-1958, followed by 48 Sqdn (Singapore), where they were later transferred to a newly-formed 34 Sqdn. From these four bases the Beverleys not only carried out multifarious tasks within their respective theatres, they also ranged far & wide; distant places that witnessed unlikely arrivals of this strange creature included Canada, Australia, Hong Kong, New Zealand, and South Africa.
Despite its many virtuous qualities, even the Beverley's most fervent aficionados would hardly claim speed as one of them. However reports of trains overtaking it can possibly be discounted, although an encounter with to-day's TGV or equivalent would be a different story. Short hauls were no great hardship, but of necessity it had frequently to undertake long-range flights for one reason or another; that many of these derived from the RAF's absurd attempts to use it as a Hastings replacement, was of little consolation to those who suffered hours of mind-numbing boredom as a result.
For the pilots tedium was alleviated by the need for hand-flying, no autopilot being (initially) fitted; after all, was it not designed for short-range work? (pity no-one told Transport Command). The Navigation & Radio empires were adept at upholding the noses-to-grindstone principle, arguably with some less than essential tasks. Running up and down ladders with trays of refreshment kept the quartermasters fit & alert, the flight deck's thirst-provoking climate in particular seeing to that. Flight engineer? - for its first few years of operation there were none, but their omission was soon seen as a gross error and they gradually became established and valued crew members.
The Centaurus engine's voracious and legendary thirst for oil was a constant nuisance, so that during the longer "drags" it was necessary to hand-pump this commodity from the reserve tank to the engines - a task accomplished in a noisome hole in rear of the flight deck, where both temperature and decibel readings were normally off-scale. It was an exhausting chore, rendered worse by the impossibility of using oxygen in an oily environment. Visitors to the flight deck were encouraged, in the sly hope that they might then be conned into becoming oil pumpers; sometimes the ruse was successful, but unfortunately seldom worked a second time. Why an electric pump could not have been provided (with the hand pump as back-up) is another of those little Beverley mysteries - along with the lack of a galley, no autopilot etc etc.
Versatility was the Beverley's main attribute, and this applied not only to loads carried but also to its operational usage. Designed as it was for short range, short-field work, its slow cruising speed would hardly have suggested it as ideal for longer stages, yet here again it proved its worth where no other type could cope: helicopters to Aden, artillery pieces, cattle (!), bulk fuel and a radar scanner during the Suez affair, state coaches for a ceremony in Helsinki, large vehicles anywhere----even dismantled fighter aircraft (Hunter/Gnat), you name it the Bev took it. With today's B747 freighters, not to mention the Guppy variants, this is now commonplace stuff, but we are describing a time sixty years ago; even today's C130 might have a problem coping with those lumpy, bumpy, inadequate strips that the Beverley took in its stride.
But the Bev did not have to land to discharge its load. Much liked by parachutists, especially for an easy exit provided by the tail boom hatchway, vast tonnages of freight were also delivered by 'chute. This was achieved by removal of the rear clamshell doors, thus providing a 10ft x 10ft exit from the similarly dimensioned 40ft long cargo hold, from which palletised loads were extracted by drag 'chutes. The aircraft's capabilities in this direction were of particular use during the Indonesian crisis, where Borneo's jungle-covered terrain necessitated much re-supply by airdrop. Loads delivered were of infinite variety, ranging from a single item of more than 40,000lb to a consignment of cats required to combat rat infestation. During early trials on Salisbury Plain, a Saracen armoured car thus delivered contrived to emerge without deployment of parachutes; perhaps it is there yet, a buried artefact for the delectation of future archaeologists?
It's perhaps pertinent to mention here that the clamshell doors were an Achilles heel of the basic design; for, as compared with the C130's bottom-hinged rear door that could be operated in flight and also served as a loading ramp on the ground, the Beverley's doors had to be removed before flight and substituted (for aerodynamic reasons) with a pair of fixed deflector plates. All of this took time, with the resultant drag degrading the already indifferent performance even further, while there remained the problem of vehicular access; this taken care of by a pair of narrow portable ramps that had to be carried on board and then manually fitted as required.