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Danny42C
1st Sep 2013, 20:16
dubbleyew eight,


Yes, of course, ambient temperature drops off at 1.6ºC/1,000ft, so at 12,000 (and there was no point in taking a VV any higher), 30ºC on the ground (a fair winter daytime temperature in East Bengal and the old N.E. Frontier Province) would be 11ºC. Considering that most of our 'ops' were short-range, and the VV (in formation with a bomb load) was no 'homesick angel', our problem was to get up to 12, never mind stay long enough to feel cold.

I never wore anything other than bush jacket and slacks (admittedly with a lot of top-hamper), and never had a Sidcot suit (other than the one issued at ITW and handed in before coming out).

My guess would be that the Sidcots would be old stock hoarded at Peshawar from the good old days, when they cruised over the hills in the open-cockpit Wapitis and Harts, "Subduing the Tribes" (with a marked lack of success, seeing that we're still at it).

How the poor devils, who presumably were issued with the things at OTU in 'Pesh', managed to survive when they climbed (fur collar and all) into a red-hot cockpit on the ground, is beyond me.

Your Spitfire chaps in Darwin seem to have been a valiant lot. Staying up there till they froze to death ! Now that is really "above and beyond the call of duty", and no mistake ! Our engineers may wish to comment on the engine problems. Me, I just had a few hundred hours flying the things, so will butt-out. But could the stories just possibly have had sone XXXX input ?

Cheers, Danny

Danny42C
1st Sep 2013, 20:41
Jaganpvs,

Jagan,

Just a quick reply, for you've laid such a feast before me (including links) that it will take me days to formulate an adequate response. Meanwhile, if you really want to see the VV in action, look up the marvellous "You Tube" offering put in by Chugalug on #2549 p.128 of this Thread.

EDIT: Just checked: it's still there...D.

To the best of my knowledge, this is the only decent video of the VVs off the ground.

Cheers, Danny.

Danny42C
2nd Sep 2013, 19:34
In my whole three years there I can recall only two weeks' "rest cure" at Manby, and only those because something memorable happened to me each time. Generally I can flatter myself that I had built up quite a reputation for my smooth and mellifluous talkdowns, apart from one malcontent, who said I sent one of his studes to sleep (or at least that was the impression gained from the said stude's flying).

And the results of my Approach work were no worse than average. There had been no (air traffic) disasters which could be laid at my door. And how can you go wrong at Manby, with about twenty movements a day ? With difficulty, it seemed, but it could be managed, if you put your back into it.

The first day I was sitting in a state of perfect peace and bucolic serenity. I had one airborne, the Chief Instructor, who was doing something or other with the (only) Hunter F6. He asked me for a steer. This was a bit below the belt, I thought. He must know that there was no CR/DF (or anything else) at Manby. Still, there was the old manual D/F to fall back on. I roused the operator and started the procedure. C.I. makes his long transmission and awaits result. A few seconds later the Op passes me the figure.

Now, looking back and racking my brains, I don't think I'd ever done a single manual D/F (outside the Link), and I don't remember their being taught me at Shawbury (CR/DF being all the rage). I'd simply forgotten that a D/F op always gives a QTE; it is for the Controller to convert it into QDM. So C.I. gets a QTE to steer. As he knew very well where he was (I think he only called to make sure I was still alert), I got a furious reaction. What was the matter with my D/F ? - What was my D/F Op doing ? - He'd given a reciprocal ! - I'd damn' well better do something about it at once ! - Wake the man up !

I could not let the poor erk carry the can. "My fault entirely, Sir", I said, and gave him the correct figure. This frank avowal of guilt seemed to mollify the C.I. Greatly to my surprise, I heard no more about it. It had been inexcusable; on the desk in front of my eyes was a circle with the QDM/QTE conversion every ten degrees, but I thought it was from QDM to QTE (as on a CR/DF).

My second gaffe some time later was really not my fault, but it was to go down in Manby legend. There was nothing on the board (ATC Nirvana !). R/T monitor pipes up: "M-ABCD on 117.9 for you, sir". What followed I will never forget.

Verbatim: "M-CD, Manby Approach, pass your message"...."Manby, CD approaching from the North at 2,000 ft, range 20 miles, request landing instructions"...."CD, 11 left, (QFE), circuit clear, call joining"....

(Manby is Prior Permission Only, we have had no advice of this visitor, but that is not my business: I cannot turn him away - but he must answer for it when he gets down)...."CD, what is the purpose of your visit ?" .... "To drop off a horse" .... "Say again" ...."Horse"...."Spell it !"...."H-O-R-S E" ....."What is your aircraft type ?"...."Anson".

My brain reeled. Reason tottered on her throne. You clutch desperately at straws. "Perhaps it's a very small horse", I consoled myself, "might a Shetland pony go in all right ?" (In my defence, I must add that only a mere dozen years before I'd seen Dak-loads of mules go off, and wished the pilots the best of British).

Now the final bitter twist in the story: Manby had an Equitation Club. My equally stupefied Assistant grabbed the Station phone book: "It's S/Ldr (x) i/c, sir"...."Ring him, tell him he's got a horse coming in in about ten minutes". S/Ldr (x) gets dragged out of Important Conference, not well pleased, organises groom and whistles up horsebox to the Tower. Anson comes in, parks, groom advances with horse-tackle at the ready. Crew see horsebox arrive alongside Tower.

Out of Anson comes a wooden hobby-horse. It appears that this was an adjunct to one of the silly games that are played at Dining-in nights. Station (x) had borrowed it from Manby for some occasion, and were now returning it. Pilots roll about Anson in mirth when they realise that they've not only fooled the Controller, but the College as well. (This will keep them in free beer for yonks). Even with door closed, Anson rocks on its oleos for some time before crew sufficiently composed to ask for taxy clearance.

Danny is Buffoon du jour. Joke is all round Manby within the hour, round Strubby by nightfall and all round Lincolnshire by weekend. Back at Strubby my Bendix crew shakes heads sorrowfully. First the HT door, then the stuck Matador, now this. Always said the poor chap must have been out in the tropic sun far too long.

Next time two more disasters, but neither of my doing.

Evenin' all,

Danny42C.


Well,you can't win 'em all.

Chugalug2
2nd Sep 2013, 21:18
Danny, damn you, Sir! You've just set me into choking on me damn whisky, don't you know! Bravo for telling a tale that, no doubt rife at the time, I'd not heard before.

Bravo especially for telling it against yourself. A different era, a different RAF, when one could commandeer an aircraft for a mere jape!

"I spell H-O-R-S-E, horse, message ends, over". The best japes were always those that stuck punctiliously to correct procedure.

You have surpassed yourself, Danny. Follow that, as they say in show business. :D

jaganpvs
3rd Sep 2013, 02:27
Danny, Yes I saw the amazing video of 8 Squadron Vengeances that Chugalug posted. Footage of Vengeances in themselves are rare. and Indian associated Vengeances are pure gold to a guy like me.

A friend of mine actually located the catalog entry for the video in the IWM Collections Catalog online. There is no doubt that it was from 8 Squadron. Though the catalog entry says that part of it may have been filmed at mambur at around February 44.

MPN11
3rd Sep 2013, 08:36
Danny … "I can recall only two weeks' "rest cure" at Manby,"

From that I imply that your ATC Certificate of Competence (RAF F5994) was endorsed for both Manby and Strubby? Were you examined by the LEO in both Towers? Or didn't they take that aspect too seriously back then?

Certainly by 1965, Manby was a nasty little hornets' nest of JPs, and operated completely different radar equipment to Strubby (which substituted complexity for intensity). No "rest cure" at Manby then! And controlling endorsements were definitely by Unit and control position - only in exceptional circumstances could the Examining Board authorise "transfer of endorsements". When I went from SATCO/LEO Waddington to SATCO/LEO Stanley, that required a personal visit and briefing from a Board Examiner … although curiously I was only endorsed as LEO Stanley, not for any control positions: I assume that was regarded as a catch-all endorsement.

Danny42C
3rd Sep 2013, 17:28
Chugalug,

Sorry about your malt - have another one on me !.... You've not heard of that one at the time ? - you'd be 14 years of age, by my calculation ! Tis true: "the past is a different country; they do things differently there" .

Follow that ?...I think I can....will try....D.


jaganpvs,

I'm a bit puzzled, I must have another good look, but I can't find one shot which shows wing bomb racks fitted (there is at least one showing a 4x11½lb practice bomb rack on the R wing, whereas on 110 we always fitted them on the L).

Any 'in action' VV would have racks fitted all the time (as each could reckon to be bombed-up at least once a day). Possibly 8 Sqdn, but doubt it. Still think most came from OTU at Peshawar. In February '44 the Sqdn was certainly in the Arakan. Don't think I was ever at Mambur, though.

All sorts of things jar. Why are they wearing webbing belts and pistols without a shoulder strap ? It's awkward, looks untidy and must be very uncomfortable. And those Sidcot suits - don't remember ever seeing them !

Too long ago !.....D.

MPN11,

Ah, that beautiful pale blue and gold thing lurking somewhere at the back of the bookcase. But way back in '56 we didn't have any, nor any LEOs, nor anything of that sort. You came, fresh from Shawbury. "You're a Controller, aren't you ?.....Read Station Flying Orders and sign.... There's your seat....Get on with it !"

I'm sure they can't have come in before I got to Leeming in '67. Never remember being examined by anybody. Think they must have given me a full house of endorsements honoris causa ....D.

Cheers to you all,

Danny.

MPN11
3rd Sep 2013, 18:19
Dear Danny42C

Unlicensed!!! How could you??? EEEEKKKK!!!!! :ugh:

Tatty claims to have been controlling in 59, although 'controlling' was more like 'helping' back then, I suspect!! Certainly my F5993 is stamped/signed in 1965 (# 1908) so they must have started "certifying" you old aircrew guys at some stage in the 60s.

jaganpvs
4th Sep 2013, 03:03
Danny42c

Actually I may be mistaken. It could be an amalgamation of two films - both taken from different times - of No.8 Squadron.

Here is the first description

VULTEE VENGEANCE DIVEBOMBERS OPERATED INDIAN AIR FORCE 8 SQUADRON Allocated Title (ABY 3) (http://iwmcollections.org.uk/collections/item/object/1060028520)

Object description
Indian Air Force Vultee Vengeance divebombers being serviced before taking off for operations in dusty conditions at Joari and Mamur (Mamura) airfields, India.

Full description
Crew of aircraft EZ977 boarding and the rear gunner demonstrates the flexible mounting of his twin machine guns. Other aircrew are amused by the antics of a pet monkey. During air-to-air footage one aircraft makes a (possibly mock) divebombing attack.

EZ977 was the identifiable aircraft in the video - though there was no shot of a pet monkey . This clip was from March 44 and I incorrectly thought it mentioned Mambur.. Mamura seems to be the correct location

The second clip details are here

INDIAN AIR FORCE VULTEE VENGEANCE DIVEBOMBERS ACTION Allocated Title (ABY 48) (http://iwmcollections.org.uk/collections/item/object/1060028569)

Object description
Scenes Vengeance divebombers of 8 Squadron Indian Air Force in action.

Full description
Exterior shot of a building, presumably the briefing room, with pilots leaving. Crew boarding a Vengeance. Pilot hands his parachute to a member of his ground crew before climbing aboard. Camera on wing of aircraft showing four Vengeances in line. Upward shot looking to pilot. Propellors spinning, ground crew pulls chocks away. Return to previous shot, aircraft rolls forward with starboard wing passing over camera. Aircraft taxis towards camera. Vengeances on runway. Aircraft take off. Various air-to-air shots of formations of aircraft up to six strong. Aircraft making divebombing attack with dive brakes open. A cloud of smoke with impacts. Vengeances overhead and passing over camera. More air-to-air and ground-to-air footage. Twelve Vengeances perform formation flyby before receding into the distance.

This one is from December 1944, and by which time the Squadron was withdrawn from frontline and even requipping with the Spitfire.. so most of the grizzled veterans from the war time may have left the unit by this point.

Danny42C
4th Sep 2013, 17:06
MPN11,

Sorry I'm a bit slow with the reply, but I went in search of my F5994: this developed into an archaecological dig which has only today borne fruit. Needless to say this pointed up huge gaps in my memory, and a need to revise some dates given in my stories as follows:

(a) It's blue and silver, of course - not gold ! (When would the RAF ever run to gold ?)
(b) It seems that the dates for my GCA Course (#91) at Shawbury were 14.1./8.3.57, and not Oct/Nov'56, as stated (mixed up with the Vulcan/LHR incident on 1.10.56. ?)
(c) My F5994 (#513) was issued on 1.1.62. at Geilenkirchen; this was presumably the date of the introduction of the scheme.
(d) There are 17 entries in all: Fentiger on 17.9.68.and 27.3.69. All the other names mean nothing to me now, and (not Alex ! - another) S/L Hindley on 12.3.68. (What was the name of the SATCO at Leeming after Fentiger ?)
(e) To cap it all, it seems I thought so little of this precious document that I left it behind at the end, a F/L Tom Davison (Dep SATCO) sent it on to me in May,'73.

It seems that I'd accumulated: "TWR/AC&APP ....RADAPA&TC ...SPEC/ISTR ...SUP(T) ....AR1/PAR, and variations thereof (never LEO, must have thought I was too kind at heart). So you see, I seem to have been qualified after all, but had quite forgotten! (Put smelling salts away).

Danny

MPN11
4th Sep 2013, 18:56
Oh, sorry Danny, I thought you were an organised bloke with logbooks and things in a fireproof safe (like me :cool:). Anyway, glad you dug that document out from your archive - I'm sure that ill generate further memories to share in the future!

Me? Never got a SPECINSTR endorsement, dammit. Apparently I was blackballed from CATCS for being "too tactical" or something similar, as i was told. However, a few LEO endorsements, and the occasional Distinguished Pass from the dreaded Professional Knowledge exam by the ATCEEB, kept me happy.

However, I have got TWR/AC, TWR/APP, RADAR/PA-TC, RADAR/PA PAR, RADAR RD AR1-PAR, AC (T82 + Remote), assorted AC, AC Alloc, LEO (PK =DP), PA, RA, ADC, Sup(T), Sup (A), LEO, more RA and LEO. Gawd, it were complicated!!!

Who understands that lot, apart from an ATCO?

I guess we crossed the dividing line between "yeah, he's OK" and the well-managed system of today. BTW, my 5984 has a publishing date of 11/63. Perhaps that's when things started getting serious regarding licensing? Oh, yours is even older (as expected!!).

But my 5994 definitely has gold text on the cover!!! :cool:

Danny42C
4th Sep 2013, 20:27
Jaganpvs,

Jagan

Where to start ? I've already commented on the video clips to Chugalug at the time they first appeared , so will concentrate on the "official" description (the still photos are a nuisance in this context): All quotes in italic, comment in plain text :-

"Indian Air Force Vultee Vengeance dive bombers being serviced before taking off for operations in dusty conditions at Joari and Mamur (Mamura) airfields, India"

No they weren't. They're not bombed up - empty wing racks (in fact, one has practice bomb rack still on). Mambur ? Mamura ? (never heard of that). All these kutcha strips looked alike.

"Crew of aircraft EZ977 boarding and the rear gunner demonstrates the flexible mounting of his twin machine guns."

Checking for "full and free movement", I think !

"Other aircrew are amused by the antics of a pet monkey ???."

I see no monkey.

"During air-to-air footage one aircraft makes a (possibly mock) dive bombing attack".

Chugalug and I discussed this: "mock" is probably right, looks far too low for a full dive.

"Vengeances on runway."

White concrete. Must be "Pesh" - or somewhere like it (all dirt strips in Arakan, except Chittagong, which was tarmac. Terrace cultivation not Arakan.)

"Aircraft take off."

Not with airbrakes out, one won't !

"Various air-to-air shots of formations of aircraft up to six strong."

Box-of-six was standard tactical formation, as being the largest that could attempt to defend itself against fighter attack - which mercifully never came.

i"Aircraft making dive bombing attack with dive brakes open."

And in a gentle (45º) dive, too. Now what on earth was the point of that ? Never heard of such a thing - wouldn't need brakes, anyway.

"A cloud of smoke with impacts."

Seem to be all over the shop, but nowhere near the bridge (if that was the target),

"Twelve Vengeances perform formation flyby before receding into the distance."

C'ést magnifique, mais ce n'ést pas la guerre !


Had a good look, but never flew EZ977. Keep 'em coming, Jagan !

Cheers, Danny.

Danny42C
4th Sep 2013, 22:20
dubbleyew eight,

Harking back to your #4237, I've been giving it a bit more thought. The "freezing to death in a Spitfire" can only have been conjecture, for of course the poor chap's dead (and presumably there were no distress calls). When an unpressurised single seat aircraft comes down from high level, and goes in for no apparent reason, in my book it has "anoxia" written all over it.

As for the engine/prop troubles, as I said I am no engineer, but between the lines there looks like a "runaway prop" story. I never heard of one in a Merlin Spit, but I seem to remember that Boscome Down (?) had a case with one of the early Griffon installations in a Spitfire. The whole reduction gear assembly seized, prop, reduction gearbox and governor wrenched off the shaft. Then of course the whole oil content of the engine sprayed out all over the fuselage and smothered the perspex.

The test pilot was high, and in gliding distance of Boscombe (?) He got the hood open, so he could see a fair amount and got it back for a dead-stick landing. I remember a photo, the Spit gleaming in oil and with a funny "pug nosed" apearance, as you might expect. I suppose the prop assembly was picked up somewhere. (All donkey's years ago, of course).

Cheers, Danny,

Fareastdriver
5th Sep 2013, 10:28
The last prop runaway I heard about was on a Lockheed Constellation off Belize.
The No1 ran away, the engine caught fire, the propeller came off the prop boss and went into No2. This lost a blade and shook itself off its upper mount and rotated into the undercarriage bay.
The crew went for Belize airport, managed to control the aircraft but the port undercarriage jammed in against the engine in the wheel well. He arrived on the runway with only starboard and nose wheels, one engine on fire, and the other hanging down.
The landing was quite tidy though it slewed off the side of the runway.
The commander was ex 8th Air Force and he and the aircraft had flown together in a previous life with Pan American.
He was heartbroken.

dubbleyew eight
5th Sep 2013, 10:51
danny australian colloquial english will be the end of us both. (well me especially)

the pilots would have experienced some cold at altitude making the warm sidcot suit advisable.

pilots didnt "freeze to death."

what happened initially with introduction of the spitfires, according to my reading, was the problem with cold oil in the prop hubs sending them into full fine pitch. the attempt to evade japanese fighters if it was successful caused considerable overspeed of the merlin.
I wish I could remember the information source. it was in the biography of a pilot who flew in the defence of darwin.

Danny42C
5th Sep 2013, 18:12
MPN11,

Organised ? you must be joking ! Your: "who understands that lot, apart from an ATCO ?" You mean to say, there actually are ATCOs who do understand this alphabet soup ? Now, setting aside my silver embossed F5594 (peasants, for the use of), I recall the Dark Ages we lived in previously.

It was a gentlemany sort of ATC, in which it was established that our function was to assist and advise the twin-winged Lords of the Air, but never to utter a word which might be interpreted as a command - for, like ships' captains, they were "Masters under God", answerable only to Him - and the Flight Commander. Indeed, we'd been obliged to forswear our original title of "Flying Control Officers" for the more anodyne "Air Traffic Controllers" to emphasise that very distinction.

It followed that the TWLOTA treated things like Controlled Airspace, NOTAMS etc with scant respect, and there was in those days an Apocryphal Story to illustrate the point.

It seemed there was this Bloggs going about his lawful occasions in a Harvard. He spied a beautiful red Viking (?) a mile or so away. Having time on his hands, he went over and pulled up alongside to have a good look. It is not recorded what the Royal personage thought of this visitation - perhaps it made a pleasant distraction from the tedium of the journey. But the Royal Pilot and the Royal Postillion up front were screaming blue murder on every channel in the box.

It is not recorded what happened to Bloggs - maybe he is in the Tower (of London) yet, and the key thrown away. In the subsequent gefuffle, it was seriously proposed the all future Royal Flights be escorted by an armed Spitfire, "licensed to kill", as they say.

The TWLOTA were forced to promise to be Good Boys in future, and to read RAFACs and NOTAMS and learn all about Purple (and every other colour in the rainbow) Airways, and acquaint themselves with all those other arcane mysteries which it is not seemly for ordinary persons to know.....(the thin end of the wedge was in).

Danny.

MPN11
5th Sep 2013, 18:24
Indeed, Danny, we generally advise that than instruct. Who could instruct such elevated beings?

Expect in the world of Area Radar, where in the Upper Airspace (FL245+, a modern invention) and during an airways crossing (similar, but not permitted for you Terminal guys either) the ATCO issues MANDATORY instructions. Oh, the poor TWLOTA ... Such indignity! :sad:

Below FL245 it was indeed advisory, although with a code of conduct which included listening to the control frequency and not just muting the RT and carrying on regardless ... Which led me inadvertently to giving an RT borrocking to CAS during a dual sortie. That's for another day :cool:

Union Jack
5th Sep 2013, 18:24
But the Royal Pilot and the Royal Postillion up front were screaming blue murder on every channel in the box.

Now what's the French for "My postillion has been struck by Harvard, sorry Lightning"?

Jack

Danny42C
5th Sep 2013, 19:17
dubbleyew and Fareastdriver,

dy, yes, of course we must make allowance for the Wild Colonial Boys - they do tend to exaggerate from time to time, don't they ? ('Ware incoming)

In the bad old days when there were wooden aeroplanes and iron men, it was the practice of those who wished their days to be long in the land to let their newly cranked engine fast-idle until the oil had warmed up by 15ºC before opening up any further. Even then, you "exercised" the prop (went from full fine to coarse and back again) slowly three or four times at about 1600 - 1800 rpm to make sure the prop was responding (and therefore warm oil was circulating properly from the engine through the prop and back) before really piling on power for your mag. checks. (I seem to remember that we checked the mags for a "dead cut" at the same time, as well).

If you do that, I don't see how you can get off the ground with cold oil in the hub. Of course, if you've four-in-hand, it will make the run-up a long one (FED ?), but as a s/e driver, I had a vested interest in my only one !

FED, what a wonderful story ! His Company should have put up a statue to him in the Boardroom, retired him on full pay, and granted him and his close family free first-class travel over all the Company's routes for their whole lives. What he got, I suppose, was a different matter.

Cheers to you both, Danny.

Now back to the ranch....

Danny42C
5th Sep 2013, 19:54
MPN11,

A murrain on Area Radar and all its works ! Never got involved with it - thank God !

Now we're all looking forward to the CAS and the "borrocking" you gave him (please don't change it, sounds far worse than just a plain "bollocking", with which we are all too familiar....D.

Union Jack,

Jack,

Search me - will have to fall back on "Ou ést la plume de ma tante ?" (help, how can I get O-grave ?) *, or: "C'ést magnifique, mais ce n'ést pas la gare" .....D.

Enough, already !

Danny.

* EDIT: You can't, eejit ! "Où" is what you want, of course ! (Serves you right for being so damned clever with MPN11 just now !)....D.

Fareastdriver
5th Sep 2013, 21:06
Seeing that the thread is involved with air traffic and prop runaways here is a song from the past that combines both.


Itazuke Tower

"Itazuke Tower, this is Air Force 801
I'm turning on the downwind leg, my prop is over-run
my coolant's overheated, the gauge says 121
you'd better get the crash crew out, & get them on the run

Now listen Air Force 801, this is Itazuke Tower
I cannot call the crash crew out, this is their coffee hour
you're not cleared in the pattern, now, that is plain to see
so take it once around, again, you're not a VIP.

Itazuki Tower, this is Air Force 801
I'm turning on my final, I'm running on one lung
I gotta land this Mustang, no matter what you say
I'm gonna get my charts spread up, before that judgment day.

Now, listen Air Force 801, this is Itazuke Tower
we'd like to let you in, right now, but we haven't got the power
we'll send a note through channels, & wait for the reply
until we get permission back, just chase around the sky.

Itazuki Tower, this is Air Force 801
I'm up in Pilot's heaven, & my flying days are done
I'm sorry that I blew up, I couldn't make the grade
I guess I should have waited till the landing was OK'd".

It came fro a record by Oscar Brand called 'The Wild Blue Yonder'; still available

Danny42C
5th Sep 2013, 22:55
EDIT: Something very strange has happened. My original Post, put in on 5.9.13 and alloted # 4960, has vanished and been replaced by the one I have just put in (ca. 1800 7.9.13. - which has received the same number).

To repair the situation, I've put a copy of the first following this EDIT. As it so happens, the second follows naturally from the first, so no harm has been done.

As this must be the result of some fault of mine - although I have no idea what I've done - and I can only apologise for any part I may have played in this confusion.

Danny42C.





Danny says: Darkness be my Friend
======================

Brevet #4260 P.213 5.9.13.

After my first unfortunate experience with truck-moving, I learned my lesson and it soon became second nature to me, as I suppose we would average a move a week - I don't remember. But every few weeks came round the College and AFS Night Phases of their Courses, and by evil chance, on at least two occasions during my three years, the wind switched mid-session.

Then was the O.C. Night on the horns of an agonising dilemma. Should he scrub the night's programme and risk the wrath of the CFI ? (experience would show that that would be by far the best option). But stay, the time was too tight, there would not be another chance to lay it on again before Course End. And practice GCAs were on the menu. Needs must when the Devil drives !

I am delighted to say that I was not implicated in any way with the disasters which followed both moves. Indeed, one was not GCA's fault in any way, and the other was only marginally to be laid at our door. This is the tale of the lesser misfortune.

At about that time a multi-star arose, smelled the coffee and had a Good Idea. We all have these from time to time, but his was different. He could make things happen. And so the RAF woke up to the knowledge that they were going to have Distance To Run Marker Boards. I have never seen any purpose in these (but then what do I know ?)

It seems to me that, if you've done all things right, touching down in exactly the right spot at exactly the right speed with the nose pointed more or less down the runway, you don't (unless the dumpers or the brakes fail, or the brake parachute doesn't pop out) need to look out for five-four-three-two-one-FINIS). And if you do need to, what comfort is it to you to reel off your impending doom step by step, when you can do nothing about it ? (and the same would apply when it was your own fault). (Perhaps I should say that arrestor-nets were far in the future).

I'm not sure I remember the next bit aright, so bear with me. In order to keep cost down, it was ordered that these simple devices should be constructed from local resources in Station Workshops. What was to hand at Strubby seemed to be 3/4 marine ply and 1/4 angle iron. They designed a hoop-shaped frame of iron about 3-4 ft tall (high enough to reach a Meteor outer wing, anyway); this was pivoted at the base on two short stubs of angle concreted into the ground besides the runway lights. The mating section (about 6 in) was drilled with two small holes about 4 in apart, the upper for the pivot bolt, the lower for a small wooden peg. Paint your board, bolt it to the flat side of the angle and Bob's your uncle.

Of course the board and upper frame had so much leverage against the peg that a good push (or even a playful gust) could bust it and knock the lot down (and a wing would meet the (relatively) soft ply first in any case). Only one row was raised at a time on the left of the runway, the ones on the right struck down as they would present the angle edge behind the board to an aircraft; at runway change all swopped over. They were normally left in position overnight, and this night nobody thought about moving them. The stage was now set.

Contrary to all expectation, the Truck move was carried out faultlessly. The shift must have been 09>27, now all the large obstructions are safely on the South side of the runway. Flying started. A dual Meteor came round on his second roller, eagle-eyed Runway Controller bangs off a red, he overshoots. The T7 has a little white light in the nosewheel door which only comes on when u/c is down and locked (no matter what the greens say). It was out.

Advised of this, the instructor cycles the u/c two or three times, no joy. Crash crews turn searchlights on him as he makes a low run over Tower, O.C. Night. Duty Instructor, Uncle Tom Cobley and all scan the underside intently, looks O.K. Decision: land normally on the grass to the R of the runway, so if u/c does fold, will be out of the way and not interrupt programme running late already.

Pilot lands perfectly, u/c holds up, unfortunately he tucks it in a trifle too close to the lights. Loud banging noise, as of dustbin lids on the Falls Road, as iron edges bite into port leading edge, pretty sort of pie-crust result and one Meteor u/s TFN.

There was nothing wrong with the u/c: just a duff bulb in the door. Ah, well.

The next one would be a humdinger.

Goodnight, folks.

Danny42C.

you can't win 'em all (but it would be nice to draw occasionally)

***************

"And the Burnt Child's bandaged Finger
Goes wabbling back to the Fire".......... (Kipling)

You would think that the first experience would render O.C.s (Night) chary of night moves.

But no. There was another night later, and another wind swing, and they chanced it again. It was 27>09 this time. Again the move of the truck went off without a hitch - but there was trouble with one of the hangers-on. I have mentioned before that sometimes we had a little low-loader trailer to carry the 40-gal drum of derv needed to keep the generator going. A tractor was required to shift this, and of course GCA couldn't expect to have one standing by all the time. On this occasion ours was a bit late turning up from the MT Section; the main convoy was just pulling out onto the taxiway as it arrived.

The tractor driver got his clog down, for of course the runway cannot be used until the final vehicle in the convoy has cleared the last few hundred yards and turned off onto the site. So the driver only took a cursory glance at the drum and its lashings, hooked up and chased after the others.

Our Stirling Moss manqué (ask Grandad) went haring round the taxiway, round the corner and down the runway. Indeed the main party had barely anchored in position when he came along after them. But the narrow turn-off the runway is not marked or lit in any way, and it was a very dark night. He almost overshot the corner, but saw it at the last moment and put the helm hard down. Tractor stayed on its wheels, so did the trailer. He triumphantly brought his ship into port.

Someone said: "Where's the Derv ?"

This was a bit of a quandary. "Well, I know had it when I set off", said the driver doubtfully. What was beyond doubt was that it wasn't there now; the trailing lashings showed all too clearly what had happened. Somewhere on the airfield was a drum of Derv on the loose - but where ?

Of course we had to tell Tower. As all concerned (O.C.Night, Duty Instructor, Flight Commanders, one or two QFIs - who could not live with their consciences if they sent Bloggs off first night solo without a couple more dual rollers - and other Bloggs (unusually quiet and subdued as they contemplated the dark night skies and the T7s on the line waiting for them), not to mention the lesser breeds (ATC for a start), who knew they were late enough with the programme already, and had beds to go to, were not overjoyed at this news.

FIND THE DRUM ! Brief Council of War: the two Crash Trucks, with their powerful searchlights, will sweep the main runway, and then the subsidiaries. Air Traffic van will go round the whole taxiway. If drum not found on tarmac, must be on grass, so quite safe to leave it where it is till daybreak; we can carry on flying. (All search vehicles are in radio contact with each other and with Tower, so search can be called off in a moment).

It was soon found. Crash trucks scanning down runway pick up small reflective gleams. Stop, smell, taste - Diesel ! Into bloodhound mode, follow trail. About a thousand yards down lies drum, on centreline, in a huge lake of diesel (no sign of screw bung, and of course, the hole just had to be at six-o'clock). It had been full to the brim and was now empty. Diesel is death to Tarmac. They might have to resurface part of the runway. We could be out for weeks.

ALL HANDS TO THE PUMPS ! The Fire Truck went straight into action and put foam down. Then they washed it off. Then they put more foam down, washed that off and on and on. The Standby Fire Truck was brought in as water carrier, shuttling water from the nearest hydrant to the worker, which was pumping foam and water as fast as it was brought up.

The Fire Section ran out of Saphonin, got Stores up and took all the stock, then Manby's stock. All round East Lincolnshire SDOs were tumbled out of their beauty sleep to raid their stores and send all they could spare, post haste, to Strubby. Night Flying Programme ? Forget it ! All go home.

Except the poor Pompiers, who laboured on. Came dawn, and with it blessed rain to help them to finish the job. (It was rumoured that this was the doing of the OC(F) in his MQ at Manby, who'd been seen to leap out of bed and perform something like a Rain Dance when he was awakened with the news of the mishap and realised the implications).

Next morning, the Clerk of Works has a look at it, looks grave, sucks teeth. Too big for him, but has a mate down the road who works for MacAlpine, knows all about tarmac. Gets him out, mate (in white coat) looks grave, sucks teeth, pokes it a bit with pencil, scrapes another bit off for the lab. Says will advise result. Meanwhile nothing is to go on the surface. Bad 48 hrs, then All Clear.

Joy in the Land of Strub. (All ATC's fault, of course).

Goodnight yet again, chaps,

Danny42C.


Never mind the Wind and Rain ! - Air Traffic's in the ###t again !

Danny42C
8th Sep 2013, 17:01
Gone quiet, hasn't it ? Let's kick it into touch.

Air Commodore "Gus" Walker, in the last year of his tenure as Commandant of the Empire Flying College, decided to sample the Hunter F6 which had recently been allotted to them. There was a difficulty to be overcome. He had lost his right hand in a gallant wartime rescue attempt. However, this had been no problem hitherto: his prosthesis had been variously adapted to connect with the tops, buttons and brake levers on the control columns of all the post-war fighter singles he had flown.

But there was a problem. The Meteor and Vampire both had dual training variants, it had been possible to give him dual instruction before he took off in the single-seaters. But Manby did not have a Hunter T7 - as a matter of fact, I don't think they entered service until much later (than'56). To say that turning him loose solo was a risk was more than an understatement - it verged on folly.

So people had done their best to dissuade the Commandant from this step. But a Commandant is just that - what he says, goes. He took full responsibility for what might happen. The day was fixed, the F6 was flown over to Strubby (with 2,000 yds, a safer proposition than Manby with a mere 1400). "Gus" strapped in and away he went. Crash crews came to full alert (I was on duty in the Tower at the time).

He was airborne for some 30 minutes; fingers were crossed, nails bitten down to the quick and the odd prayer offered up. We need not have worried, he came back into the circuit, did a low overshoot and a roller to perfect his approach and came in for a faultless landing. We all breathed again.

Shortly afterwards, in September, he left us to take over No.1 Group (Bomber Command). I don't think there were any "sinlge-seat" V-bombers, so they would present no problem to him.

And that was my last sight of one of the great gentlemen of the RAF.

Goodnight all,

Danny42C


They don't make 'em like that any more !

smujsmith
8th Sep 2013, 19:32
Danny,

Probably the last throw of the dice before "rules and regs" became the mandatory norm. What a bloke the man was. And, what a shining example of overcoming misfortune in his physical abilities. Having no knowledge of real flying (only gliders for me), its hard to picture and understand all of the problems he faced on that trip. I can only, like many I suspect, marvel at the fortitude of you boys.

Smudge :ok:

Chugalug2
9th Sep 2013, 08:26
Danny, you queried the point of DTG marker boards, and I must admit that I didn't know that the RAF had ever utilised them. It certainly inherited them though, ie when it took over ex USAF bases such as Fairford. I always understood that their point was to measure acceleration on take-off rather than deceleration on landing, but no doubt they provided both features in the event of an abandoned take off (due perhaps because acceleration fell below a minimum requirement).

Although we had them at Fairford they were of no use to us, because we had no graphs in our ODMs to state minimum speeds at distance to go for various AUWs and atmospheric conditions, which I assume that the B47's ODM did. In the meantime they provided the same threat that yours did if impacted, though as they remained in place whichever runway used they must have been frangible in whatever direction impacted, unlike yours.

If ever there was an accident waiting to happen (though not looking for the place as it was already defined) then the Strubby angle iron foldable DTGs must be up there with the best. Could it be that incident (no doubt in company with others) spelled its doom not only as a design but as a concept. I don't recall them at Cranwell South when flying JPs there in 1960, nor anywhere else other than at Fairford.

Incidentally, when that station was re-activated (in 1968?), having been quit long since by the USAF, one of the first buildings to activate was the control tower. Little equipment remained, but gathering dust on the floor was a red telephone. Picking up the receiver, little expecting to hear even so much as a click, our fearless explorer was startled to hear a sharp, "This is Ruislip, who the hell is that?". He hastily explained that the new tenants were now in and replaced the receiver. No doubt it was disconnected soon after.

dubbleyew eight
9th Sep 2013, 08:40
They don't make 'em like that any more !

this is what I would call one of the tyrannies of war.
these guys were forged into the people that they were by the survival against the odds of the carnage.
they were just normal people reacting to circumstances.
the trouble these days is that the same normal people exist among the youth of today.
mercifully almost, they are not beset by the carnage of war and remain latent talents untested by circumstances, but they are everywhere around you.

Fareastdriver
9th Sep 2013, 08:50
On the Valiant you had a big performance manual where you could calculate the take off roll according to weight, temperature and height above MSL. On a hot and high airfield you could quite easily hit the minimum distance between the take off point and the end of the runway, 900ft. When you took off from a USAF runway you could check these figures against the Distance to Go boards.
It used to be quite depressing to find out how optimistic the graphs were.

Danny42C
9th Sep 2013, 17:35
Smudge,

Your: "Having no knowledge of real flying (only gliders for me)". Now forget that right away, Smudge ! I can tell you that gliding (having only done a little bit, admittedly) is every bit as much real flying as any powered aircraft, with the added problem of a forced landing every time. You can't "go round again" in a glider !

As to the rest, I agree every word. There was a heartwarming story, dating from before I got to Strubby, that a little lad of 9 or 10 had lost his right forearm in a tractor accident on some Lincolnshire farm. "Gus" made a point of visiting him in hospital as soon as he came round from surgery, ("Gus" wearing full kit and regalia), to have a chat and show the little chap that all was not lost - as he had suffered exactly the same injury...D.

Chugalug,

You may well be right about the Distance to Run boards, I don't remember seeing them anywhere else after leaving Strubby, and you would need two people up front to use them for acceleration checks, as the Handling Pilot has no time to play about with stopwatches and gawp at the street furniture as it flashes past. They'd be no use at all to a single-seater driver.

As regards telephones, this recalls the old chestnut: chap rings his mate, crossed line, gets "Do you know who I am ? - this is Air Marshal Somebody-or-other !"...."Do you know who this is, Sir ?"...."No !"....."Thank God for that !"...(hurriedly hangs up)....D.

dubbleyew eight,

A year or so ago, the obituarist of the D.T. put it in almost exactly your words (commenting on the fact that the supply of war heroes was tailing off):

"They were ordinary men who did extraordinary things". I do not doubt that, if the need arose, their descendants would do so again....D.

Fareastdriver,

So they were some use to somebody, after all. Just shows, you never know !

Hot and high ? I remember we only just managed to get the VVs off from Samungli (Baluchistan - 4,000ft) light, and would never have done it bombed-up.....D

Regards to you all. Let's keep the ball rolling,

Danny.

Chugalug2
9th Sep 2013, 18:38
Danny,
I must admit that the fact that Sir Gus was still piloting in the 50's (or at any time following the loss of his right arm, for that matter) came as a surprise. Having thought about it, surely he must have followed much the same procedure as Douglas Bader (indeed he would have used him as his precedent, no doubt). Thus he would have been boarded at CME and have obtained a medical category that allowed him to fly, even if not A1G1Z1. Then he would have had to demonstrate his ability to fly safely to CFS no doubt, notwithstanding his well earned and much respected status.
That the Hunter could only be operated solo is not the issue here, no more than the Spitfire or Hurricane were in Bader's case. Both men had to show that they could satisfy the medical and operating authorities at the time that they could fly effectively and safely, and both clearly did so. My respect and admiration for Sir Gus has risen even further after what you have told us, Danny. A very remarkable man indeed!

MPN11
9th Sep 2013, 19:20
As we're talking about VSOs, and as Danny requested the tale, I'll give his keyboard a quick rest.

At a famously busy Area Radar unit near Norwich in the late 70s, I was on watch as Senior Supervisor. The controller on 3A called me over - "We've got Jaguart c/s 03 getting airborne from Colt shortly. I had him yesterday, he was a bloody pain." i had heard something to that effect the day before. So, fearing no man, I said "Would you like me to take him?"

And so 03 got airborne, and was handed over to me for Radar Advisory service for some general handling. In a mood of generosity I cleared him to operate off the north Norfolk coast, about 10-20 miles north of Blakeney Point, between FL50 and FL240. And so he did … he went diddley-up and diddley down and left and right all over the place for several minutes.

However, some Marham recoveries were inbound with Midland Radar (through the Blakeney area), and their controller called me for co-ordination on my track. in the interests of harmony, I planned to either vector 03 away from the immediate area, or put a FL restriction on him for a bit. "03, Eastern" … nothing. "03, Eastern Radar" … still nothing. Midland controller now getting a bit tense … and another landline call from another Eastern controller with a slab of Lakenheath F-4s inbound to their holding pattern (FL180 and up, was it not?) also passing by Blakeney (popular spot for visual nav). "03, this is Eastern Radar, do you read me?" in a slightly higher-pitched voice … still nothing.

By now several other controllers at both Eastern and Midland are taking avoiding action on this "Known Unknown", as the silent 03 continued diddling. Eventually it was getting far too complex to resolve by coordination, so I called 03 on Guard. He almost immediately came up on the control frequency … with a rather curt "Yes, go ahead" or something like that. "03, do you still want Radar Advisory, if so please remain on this frequency, or cancel service and go VFR."

"Roger Eastern, but we've got a sortie to carry out here." I kid you not, those were the exact words. "Roger 03," I replied with acid in my voice, "So had the other 8 aircraft who have had to be directed around you while you were weren't listening to me."

Turns out later that day it was CAS in a T-bird getting some Jaguar time with one of the more senior Colt wheels. I heard no more about it: I wonder whether they discussed it during debrief? Naah, probably not … it was just ATC being a PITA as usual :p

[retreats backwards towards doorway, vacating stage for Danny again to take us further back in time].

Danny42C
10th Sep 2013, 17:00
Chugalug,

I agree, you can never override the Medics (as I know to my cost), and I'm sure that 'Gus' would have had to jump through all their hoops before they gave him his A1G1 (what was 'Z' all about ?, I know I should know, but it's all gone).

But then, once he's got his 'Cat', they couldn't care less what he flew - that was his problem - or rather that of the Authorising Officer, which I imagine would have been him (would you sign it, knowing what might happen, and that you might be signing the man's death warrant, and at the subsequent BOI, he'd probably be beyond reach of Court Martial, but you'd be very much alive in the hot seat ?)

I hardly dare to disagree with my revered Mentor, but, with respect, the 'solo' is the issue here. In Bader's day there were no dual Hurricanes or Spitfires (the T-IX curiosity is post- war). Every budding Prune had to read the book, jump in and fly - there was no option. Now, after the Hunter T7 came in, I doubt if anyone jumped straight into a s/seater without some conversion training. Could be wrong, of course (often am, is there a Hunter man in the house ?)

There's no getting away from it, it was an appalling risk - but then, 'Gus' came from a generation well accustomed to appalling risks. Anyway, "all's well that ended well". We shall not see his like again, I fear....D.

MPN11,

Everything you tell me increases my deep-rooted horror of Area Radar and all its works (all right, all right, I know someone has to do it, but please, dear Lord, not me !) You'll remember that at Leeming, we were only troubled by Teesside, every couple of hours, with a timid request: could the LHR shuttle go direct to Pole Hill, or must it dog-leg North to 'Point Alpha' (somewhere around Bowes, as I recall). And the same when it came back. If we were absolutely quiet (and there were such times), we would generously say "Clear Direct"!, saving British Midland no end of fuel.

I should have been tempted to be a PITA with your VVIP when you got him back, and vectored him round East Anglia widdershins a couple of times to show him who's Boss !...D.

Regards to you both,

Danny.

Geriaviator
10th Sep 2013, 17:17
Hello again folks ... have been busy making most of this wonderful summer, until poor Mrs G. made a very heavy landing and damaged both wing spars, so I'm OC kitchen etc. until plaster is removed. Already the days are shortening so I'll be back on keyboard hopefully.

Danny, your stories have filled every available hour. The diesel drum was another gem as I once discovered the result of diesel on tarmac, going off-road fortunately on four wheels rather than two.

It recalled the day at Binbrook in 1950 when Dad arrived home from work with a milk bottle containing a clear liquid. Wartime habits died hard, and worn-out scraps of soap were saved until they part filled a bowl, so they could be boiled up together into a slimy blob which could be scooped out for washing the dishes. Did anyone ever try Lifebuoy flavour corn flakes?

"Forget the soap", said Dad. "This stuff is called Teepol and it's issued for washing the Lincolns. You need only a spoonful in a bucket". Mother did not believe him and poured in a cupful, whereupon the suds rolled out from the sink in a foamy carpet. Mum used it thenceforth and always asserted that Fairy Liquid wasn't a patch on the RAF issue.

Teepol was one of the first detergents. Decades later, I was helping a friend by driving a street sweeper when I was tasked with an oil spill resulting from an accident. The oil had been covered with cement, which we swept up, then into the spray tank went half a drum of Teepol, the first time I had seen the product since Binbrook. It made a fine job of the road surface, though cleaning the oil, cement and soapy mix from the tank took me an hour with a power washer. I'm glad to say Teepol is still in business and in ownership of the same family.

Best wishes everyone, and please keep 'em coming, Danny!

Chugalug2
10th Sep 2013, 20:32
No mentor I, Danny, revered or otherwise, and certainly no expert on the Hunter, single or dual, so I merely took it from your post that the T7 was not yet in service when Gus went for a spin in the F6. Sorry if I misunderstood, as obviously if it was available albeit not actually at Strubby, then he should have been checked out on the T7. If not, then presumably the Hurricane/Spitfire system still pertained for everyone new to type, just as it did for you.

As to authorisation, would he be cleared to self authorise? More likely some S.O. would have had that very dubious honour, for if the unthinkable happened no matter the cause, he would be forever damned as the man who lost the Service one of its heroes. Much biting of nails to the quick as Gus did his detail...

For all that, your point is well made, for of all the dangers and odds that he had survived, this one was a doddle. One of life's survivors, and one of its true gentlemen. RIP.

Geriaviator, welcome back and sorry to hear of Mrs G's troubles, not the least of which being perhaps that you now bestride her kitchen like a colossus! Your mention of Teepol immediately recalled another product, Gunk! An employee of HAEC always met our Hastings on arrival at Kai Tak with a bucket full and a brush with which he vigorously applied it to the lowered flaps, grimy from the engine emissions. It was the only place where next morning one started up such a clean machine, other than the Mk4's of Far East Comm Squadron which being the VIP version permanently gleamed of course.

That "Barry Scott", forever proclaiming the effects of Cillit Bang would be far more convincing if he used that latter aircraft than the weird purple FJ trainer that he uses as a prop on tele (an ex Yugoslav one, I believe).

kookabat
10th Sep 2013, 22:45
I should have been tempted to be a PITA with your VVIP when you got him back, and vectored him round East Anglia widdershins a couple of times to show him who's Boss !...D.


As has been heard in the Ops Room on more than one occasion...

This is Air Traffic Control, not Air Traffic Negotiation!!

:O

26er
11th Sep 2013, 08:36
I suspect the authorisation of Gus's flight would have been made by one of the QFIs after briefing him. In those days that's the way it was done. As a very junior Fg.Off QFI I authorised several senior officers to risk life and limb in a Vampire having first given them dual in a Meteor.

Fareastdriver
11th Sep 2013, 08:57
All you air traffikers would love to work in China. There, air traffic is draconian. Should they point you at a mountain there is a protracted discussion before they will let you steer away from impending disaster. Indefinite holds when short of fuel are common. Violations can be filed against pilots for all sorts of reasons. Early/late ETAs. 0.25 degree glidepath error, Heavy? Landing. The list goes on. However, there are some benefits inasmuch that an ATC clearance is paramount.

I had to do photographic flight over Shenzhen. Some ancient buildings were just about to be demolished to make way for the latest downtown high-rise. We had rigged our helicopter, an S76, so that the photographer had a clear shot through a removed starboard window and I had an ancient map that showed the building's location.

As I approached the area it was obvious that they were in the middle of an existing forest of high-rises and the shots taken above them were going t be pretty poor. I discussed it with our Chinese chief pilot who had come along for the ride. He got on the radio and then there was a long conversation with the controller.
“You’re cleared down to thirty metres.” My chief pilot said.

Thirty metres is just over one hundred feet. There I was, approaching a city resembling Manhattan and I was cleared low level. The devils horns came out and there then followed a helicopter version of Danny’s dive bombing manoeuvre.

Forty five minutes of glorious, legalised, hooliganism. All my lights were so one could see oneself approaching a glass sided office tower at about the tenth floor level. Forty knots was more than enough to turn at mall intersections, I didn’t try the narrower streets because of cables. We managed to get some good photographs of the buildings as well.

Nobody would have complained. Civilian helicopters are not widely known there so it would be assumed by any spectators that it was military or police; and one does not complain about them.

Our heliport was within the terminal zone of an international airport. To ease our passage within this area it was ‘believed’ that the company used to take Air Traffic Control to a massive slap-up banquet once a year. That is probably why our chief pilot managed to fix it

Chugalug2
11th Sep 2013, 09:24
Danny:-
A1G1 (what was 'Z' all about ?, I know I should know, but it's all gone).

PPRuNe as ever has the answer, Danny. Dredged from the depths of its bowels from nearly 7 years ago, the answer to the self same question is "zone":-
Medical Question [Archive] - PPRuNe Forums (http://www.pprune.org/archive/index.php/t-250692.html)
It was the Z1 in your medical category all those years ago that entitled you to the Cooks Tour of India which you have so vividly described for us.

26er, of course you are right, no SO would have gone out on such a limb when there was an abundance of JOs available to sign authorisations. I can only wonder at the sang-froid of my own instructors who made their mark so that I could once again go forth into the wide blue yonder.

Fareastdriver, ATC elsewhere could be similarly assuaged with gifts and treats. Just before Christmas each year, Dan-Air Operations would visit Maastricht Control on a liaison visit. The liaison would be facilitated by a crate or two of Johnny Walker Black Label. Maastricht were well aware of the saving in time and fuel that direct routings enabled. The code word for such a request from us was settled on as "Chugalug" within the initial call. As a result you might be cleared Koksy to Frankfurt VOR direct, for example. A Speedbird once queried the use of the word Chugalug by Maastricht in their response to us. There was a pause followed by, "I'm sorry Speedbird but I am not allowed to say". We of course kept schtum...

Fareastdriver
11th Sep 2013, 10:36
Sometimes it is more direct.

I was ferrying an AS332L1 down from Wenzhou to Shenzhen with a lunch and refuelling stop at Xiamen. After lunch we confirmed the flight plan, went out to the aircraft and called for start clearance.
"Refused; there is a delay"
After 20 minutes or so we got out and went up to ATC to see what the reason was. There was a PLA air force exercise at Shantou, which was on our route, with a prohibition below 5,000 metres, which affected us.

I was not particularly worried. I was in no hurry and the PLA always stopped at five o'clock so we disappeared off for some more coffee. Come five o'clock and we waited, and waited. At six it was looking as if we were going to have to night stop which suited me fine; I was looking forward to a night on the razamataz in Xiamen but my co-pilot and engineer wanted to get home.

We had discussed with ATC any other possibilities but they had not been forthcoming. Meanwhile my co-pilot had sent our engineer off with a wad of money. He returned bearing a case of Coca Cola and a carton of Marlborough cigarettes and starting handing them around the tower like Father Christmas.

Instantly the attitude changed and we were shown a 'special route' that avoided Shantou altogether.

Twenty minutes later we were on our way

MPN11
11th Sep 2013, 11:31
I'm sure a pilot bought me a beer once. Or was it a Navigator? Or was it a dream? ;)

Eastern Radar (sorry again, Danny) used to assist Air Anglia on their regular F-27 runs between Norwich and Amsterdam through the 'open' FIR which, in those days, was awash with Mil traffic. FL110/FL120 rings a bell. Anyway, the Mildenhall CAC VHF frequency was virtually unused, so we let them use that … and the Allocator would monitor it H24, poised to allocate a normal console to use it and provide service.

This obviously made life much easier for the AA pilots, provided expeditious routing and significantly enhanced safety. Good for them, and good for us as the AA was now 'known traffic' and under our control. At the same time, we made their Ops Manager [or whatever he was] an Honorary Mess Member, to facilitate liaison.

in return, our ATCOs were given a 90% fare discount on those flights. And other gifts were dotted around too - I still have my Air Anglia Zippo lighter :cool:

Blacksheep
11th Sep 2013, 13:34
As regards telephones, this recalls the old chestnut: chap rings his mate, crossed line, gets "Do you know who I am ? - this is Air Marshal Somebody-or-other !"...."Do you know who this is, Sir ?"...."No !"....."Thank God for that !"...(hurriedly hangs up)....D.RAF Northolt 1976. 32 Sqn Flight Line around 17:45 hrs. I'd sent the boys off to the airmen's mess for their tea and was enjoying a peaceful cuppa and a fag. The phone rings and I answer.
"CDS here. Can you tell me if Mrs.<name witheld> is on the <codeword> flight?" says a rather plummy voice.
The boys are having a laugh at my expense. I am about to tell the prankster to get his *rse in gear and get back to the Line right away, but a niggling little dicky bird tells me this is no prank.
"I'm afraid I can't give out that information on the phone, Sir!"
[I can see from our Ops board on the opposite wall that the CDS's wife is indeed listed among the VIPs]
"Damn! I've tried Ops, I've tried Air Movements and I thought that the Engineers might be more useful."
"What's the problem, Sir?"
"I'm expecting my wife on the flight, but I have things to do here and I don't want to waste time coming down to Northolt if she's not on it"
"Oh: Er, what time were you thinking of coming down, Sir?"
"19:30"
"Sir, if you came down at 19:30 you wouldn't be wasting your time."
"Splendid! I knew Engineering were the men to ask. Thank you very much, Sergeant. Click"

Two days later I am called to the Office.
"Did you receive a call from the CDS on Monday night, Sergeant Blacksheep?"
"Yes: why?"
"Well get yourself to the Bosses office two-six. He wants to see you. Now"

I turn up and his secretary announces me. "At least they're letting me keep my hat on" I think. The Boss is pleased. The CDS has sent a message to the effect that his engineers are the most resourceful and efficient personnel in the entire Royal Air Force and are to be appropriately congratulated.

32 "C" Flight's "B" shift retire to 32 Squadron bar for a beer.
On the Boss.
The CDS said so.
The CDS is not just a gentleman, he's a truly great leader of men. :ok:

Union Jack
11th Sep 2013, 13:55
Blacksheep - You, Sir, are a smooth-talking bar-steward!:ok:

Interesting as to whether that was FM Carver, CDS to Oct 76 or MRAF Humphrey thereafter, especially vis a vis .

"The CDS has sent a message to the effect that his [the Boss's] engineers are the most resourceful and efficient personnel in the entire Royal Air Force and are to be appropriately congratulated."

Jack

PS "Mrs"!?:)

MPN11
11th Sep 2013, 14:36
Nice tale, and nice to hear Gentlemen existed in 76.

I do remember my farewell interview with my AOC on retirement/redundancy in 93, where he acknowledged I had drawn some very short straws on many of my Bosses over the years (which had influenced my decision to go). I refrained from mentioning he was also a prime mover!!

But equally, I remember some great ones who treated people like people, instead of 'office equipment'. Cyclops Brown, Phil Lagesen, Win Harris, Big John Laycock, Tony Davies (Vulcan one), Barry Nunn, C4, Dink Lemon ... a few bright stars shining through a dismal overcast.

Danny42C
11th Sep 2013, 16:11
Geriaviator,

May we welcome you back from what must have been an anxious time, and we hope Mrs G. will soon be restored to full health, and you demoted to default position as 2 i/c Kitchen !

I was a supernumerary at Binbrook from 13.10.49 to 23.1.50, so must have been there at the same time as you and your Dad, but our paths would have been unlikely to have crossed. I well remember "Teepol", it came in handy for washing pretty well everything on the airfield, but mainly cars. As your Dad said, a little went a very long way.

I don't remember it ever coming on the retail market outside, but there were all sorts of patent cleaners: "Gunk" cleaned your engine up and "Swarfega" cleaned you up afterwards.

I'm glad my tales have lightened your load somewhat, and there's plenty more where they came from. Might get another away tomorrow....D

Chugalug,

I seem to have a genius for not making myself clear ! I know that Manby did not have a Hunter T7, and I think that they were only introduced much later. If any were in service at that time (which I doubt), they would obviously go to a Conversion Unit somewhere (for surely there must have been one when they came in); 'Gus' would certainly have gone there first to be checked
out.

All in all, I think you're right: the old Hurricane/Spitfire system still held sway (and a long way after that, offhand I can't think of a dual version of any of the big piston singles that came in at the end).

As to self-authorisation, I would certainly think that the Commandant of the College would be entitled to do so (after all, I could do it in my tiny little kingdom during the war). But here again, where is a Hunter pilot to give us the 'gen' ? There must be scores in earshot.

Barry Scott and 'Cillit Bang' are entirely unknown to me - had to Google 'em - clearly I don't get out enough these days ! ....D.

Cheers, Danny.

BEagle
11th Sep 2013, 16:18
Teepol was one of the first detergents.

Also had quite an effect when introduced into the fishpond's ornamental fountain at that monstrosity of an OM at RAF West Drayton.....or so I'm told. The fish weren't too impressed though.....:uhoh:

Not as good as foam fire extinguishant in the VIP loos - with one chemical in the pan and the other in the cistern. When flushed, the foam generates as advertised in a most pleasing manner....:ooh:

clicker
11th Sep 2013, 17:08
Chugalug,

Be pleased to know that you fooled a youngster many moons ago.

One of the things that got my interest in aircraft going was the use of a suitable radio and I do recall hearing the "Chugalug" calls.

Being only lad of minor age then I always thought that it was some foreign word of greeting like "hello" or "good morning" in a native language.

Well I suppose I was almost right. :8

MPN11,

Border, Midland, Eastern. All bring back some memories to a young lad trying to figure out what some sayings meant. Did mange to get a few right but others were way out when I did find out what was the correct meaning.

Remember hearing some helo formation call "Calcutta, Calcutta, Go" to later find out it was a call for all lights out. Suitable touch of military humour I thought.

MPN11
11th Sep 2013, 17:12
BEagle ... I hope you weren't at Drayton when the bloody awful Mess finally closed. There were washing machines being hurled from the upper floors into that fishpond.

Or perhaps you were?

However, all too modern, and I'm partly to blame. Back to the days of sgt pilots, and silver training aircraft with yellow stripes. Hello danny42C :ok:

BEagle
11th Sep 2013, 18:58
No I wasn't. But it was a useful place to park one's car for free before flying off from London Airport for a couple of weeks in the sun!

smujsmith
11th Sep 2013, 19:40
Talking of "substances" given to other uses, I well remember one of the JP 2nd Line servicing teams circa 1975 finding a product called Hibitane. I think it was borrowed from Station Medical Centre as it had a very pleasing effect on seized/ corroded bolts. It was used for several months, then one day someone applied three drops into the urn in the Dominie servicing teams' crewroom. Now rumour had it that they had three days off, glued to the porcelain trumpets nearest their bed spaces. Our Warrant Officer had it banned from then on. And no, I was not involved, before I become suspect No1. As you all say Teepol was very useful, as was its brother Wadpol.

Smudge:ok:

Blacksheep
11th Sep 2013, 20:11
Jack - Sir Andrew, shortly before his untimely passing from pneumonia. He stood us a round more than once - as we looked after his personal Gazelle, XW855 that now resides in the Hendon museum.
"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.

Danny42C
11th Sep 2013, 21:35
It's like buses, isn't it ? None at all for half an hour, and then....

It's true, Fareastdriver, the odd 'bung' generates no end of goodwill. IIRC, for a few years post war, we allowed the odd civil aircraft to land, and stay awhile, without charge. And this was reciprocated, a fact much appreciated by RAF weekenders. Then some jobsworth in Air Ministry heard of this, and stepped in to put a stop to it.

Henceforth we were obliged to charge the "civvies", and naturally they did the same to us, and it probably balanced out cashwise in the end, but a lot of vexatious paperwork was created meanwhile.

It fell to my lot to lecture on this subject at the School. But I was always careful to add a rider as follows:

"It happens at many places that a business aircraft will use your airfield on a regular basis, and you will of course ensure that he is charged appropriately on each occasion. But if you have treated him kindly and courteously, so that good relations have been established between you, then it may happen that an extra visit will be paid around Christmastime, offloading enough Christmas cheer to satisfy everybody in the Tower (what Flying Wing don't know about it won't hurt them)".

"Should such a thing happen, it would be basely ungrateful in the extreme to charge them on this occasion, and you will not do so. But be absolutely sure that no written record of the visit is left anywhere for an auditor to find !"

At the end of the class, two grizzled old M/Ps came up to me. "Sir, that is the most useful advice that we've learned on this entire Course so far !"....(I had done some good after all, it seemed).

Danny.

Chugalug2
11th Sep 2013, 22:29
clicker:-
Chugalug,
Be pleased to know that you fooled a youngster many moons ago.
One of the things that got my interest in aircraft going was the use of a suitable radio
It may be of some quiet satisfaction for you to know that we knew that many like yourself were listening in, not so much to routine ATC calls, but to our calls to company. Fearing that calling in a list of defects to the engineers would generate a "Shock Horror Probe Scoop" from the Fourth Estate along the lines of "Stricken Airliner Survives Failure of Vital Equipment", we were told to simply give the appropriate Manual paragraph references. After a period of mayhem, whereby instrument snags generated an entire engine change team meeting the aircraft on arrival, we reverted to calling the snags in clear again.

clicker
11th Sep 2013, 23:14
Must admit I didn't go for company calls. Used it mainly for the overhead stuff.

In the very early days was quite useful with registrations as callsigns and actual position reports being given.

Danny42C
11th Sep 2013, 23:33
You might be excused for believing that ATC/GCA was a life of unremitting toil interspersed with catastrophes great and small, but it was not always like that. You have to take the smooth with the rough. Although there were times when they were coming at you down the QGH pattern, and/or the glidepath, nose to tail like circus elephants, and your mug of tea went cold by your side, yet there were the halcyon days when the sun shone and nobody wanted much (or any) ATC assistance.

Approach could relax and have a good old natter with SATCO, Duty Instructor and anyone else who came in, but it was the Bendix that really had it made. You might do a whole watch without a single run. Now the deck chairs (and the Lloyd Loom) came into their own. Of course, you were as discreet as possible. You pitched your chair(s) on the side furthest away from the Tower and F/Wing HQ, away from prying eyes. Nor could you be surprised by a chance visitor, for no one can set tyre or foot on the Aircraft Movement Area except by permission from Local Controller and as he spent half his time as Radar Director, so you were certain of maximum warning from him.

Accordingly, when O.C.(Flg) decided to bring visitors out to show off the wonders of the new-fangled radar thing, and Local had been advised, his squawk-box would immediately betray the plan to us, and it was the work of a moment to strike camp and get mugs, deck chairs, magazines and newspapers back into the Rest Caravan, and the operators back in the Truck, headsets on and intent on their tubes, giving such an impression of concentration and industry that the much impressed visitors would often apologise for interrupting such obviously vital and important work.

And of course the gloom of the truck, the roar of the generator, the thudding beat of the waveguides, the grinding of the search aerial and the hypnotic weave of the strobes all added to the illusion of mysterious, frantic activity, whereas in fact nothing at all was going on.

Director could always find a few blips crawling about on the PPI; the little "tadpole" tails (when heading towards us) always fascinated them. In fine weather, there would be a lot of circuit traffic and I could usually pick up someone coming round on finals and they could watch him go between the "goalposts" of the Touchdown markers. Wonderful ! And for the last ten seconds I would switch in Fast Scan to add a little drama, for it made them jump (us,too), as it sounded and felt as if the truck were about to fly apart.

They staggered back along the sloping floor and out into the sunshine, having thanked us profusely, and went off, reassured that the safety of the realm was in such good hands. We watched the car out of sight, then fetched the chairs out and put the kettle on. Normal service was resumed. (Now of course you see the advantage of the old, dun green canvas. It blended in, whereas bright candy-striped deck chairs might attract notice from the air).

And the Night Flying suppers between the two phases of a Night Flying programme ! The airmen would draw night-flying rations for all of us from the cookhouse: eggs, bacon, bread, butter, milk, sugar and tea. To this we might add a few tomatoes, and "in the season of the year", lush fresh picked mushrooms from the airfield. Two of our mechs were excellent cooks, get the old frying pan out and light-up the calor gas ring. We had some glorious fry-ups on those nights, eaten at our seats in the truck, for it would be too much of a squeeze for all six or seven of us to feed together in the Caravan, and cook in there at the same time.

Mushrooming on the airfield is worth a post all on its own, so it may get one later.

All the old Truck Radar people go all misty-eyed when they think back on those times, for from the early '60s the AR1/PAR radars (which are built into the Towers) came in, the mobiles were phased out, and our cheerful gypsy life became just a distant memory.

Goodnight, all.

Danny42C .


Those were the days !

Fixed Cross
12th Sep 2013, 07:53
In response to Danny's 4269 " is there a Hunter man in the house?" - Sorry Sir! Here but late on Parade.

I did'n't join the Hunter force until the 60s and the T7 was well established in widespread service by then. However, I recall that some of my older colleagues had certainly converted direct to the single seat by the tried and tested Spitfire/Hurricane technique.

You have to remember that despite its exhilarating performance it was a basic flying machine with none of the complicating aids found in modern cluttered cockpits. You flew head out as much as possible with right hand on the stick and left on throttle. No navaids (other than a map and radio compass(located behind your right elbow and virtually impossible to tune in flight)). Thus a straight in first trip was not regarded as challenging.

Not quite the same thing but later in life I had the privilege to fly the last Meteor and Vampire when the Vintage Pair were active. At the end of the Summer season both aircraft disappeared into a hangar for some months only to reappear the next Spring by which time my colleague and I were out of currency. No problem-both aircraft were 2 seat trainers and we were both QFIs. We both climbed in,fired up, and on takeoff the one in control is immediately current and checked out the other.

I bet you are not allowed to do that now!

26er
12th Sep 2013, 08:25
Old(ish) Hunter pilot checks in.

1955, Tangmere, and the two day fighter squadrons, Nos 1 & 34, eagerly awaited the arrival of our new aircraft. Of course the first of the Hunter F5s with the Saphire engine went to 1 while we of 34 had to wait until after the Fighter Command Autumn Exercise before ours arrived. Having enjoyed the usual mushroom fry-ups of the season (why did the order to go to cockpit readiness always occur at the wrong time, leaving the full frying pan to be scoffed by the idle undeserving?) the fun eventually ended and we of 34 got down to the business of converting to the new equipment. We had a short period of technical lectures, perhaps five hours in total, then get strapped in and off you go. You could always tell a Hunter pilot on his first trip because no matter how well briefed he'd been, after Meteors the sensitivity of the powered aileron controls and the few seconds of inadvertent wing waggling gave the game away. But from then on it was a delight to fly.

If you can ever get Chris Golds to repeat his performance of a first trip by putting a chair on a table, starting his walk round check, climbing up to sit down and strap in, taxy out and finally take off, as demonstrated at a Hunter pilots reunion at Wittering several years ago, it is a joy to behold.

BEagle
12th Sep 2013, 09:24
It was even better at Valley in the mid-'70s. After finishing the Gnat course, we would usually have to wait for a TWU slot, so were given a Hunter 'refresher' course. A couple of days of 'tech', read the pilots notes and pass the tech exam, some simulator sessions in the Mk6 sim before flying the T7 - which seemed like an airliner compared with the Gnat.

But the day of one's first solo in the single seat Hunter was always memorable. These weren't normal Hunters, they were stripped of Sabrinas, guns and radar, with the ancient Rebecca DME replaced by TACAN. Added to which they were painted in high-gloss polyurethane and hence went like the proverbial off a shovel. As one mate commented "I finally managed to change to Approach at 10000ft, forgot to set 1013 until about 20000, then muttered "OK God, I have control!". We referred to them as 'GT6' Hunters after the sports car of the time - and they must have been the highest performance 'trainers' ever used by an AFTS! Truly superb, they were!

I can still remember that aroma of burnt AVPIN on start up!

Union Jack
12th Sep 2013, 10:13
Jack - Sir Andrew, shortly before his untimely passing from pneumonia. He stood us a round more than once - as we looked after his personal Gazelle, XW855 that now resides in the Hendon museum.

Blacksheep -

Makes good sense.:ok:

"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.

Makes even better sense.:ok::ok:

Curiously enough, my mention of FM Carver reminds me of the occasion when, long after he had "retired", he was spending a day at sea as the guest of my Admiral and I was acting as his minder as he took a very informal, and unannounced, walk round the flagship. FM Carver was simply wearing his tanky's beret and a woolly pully with rather tired looking shoulder straps and, whilst we were enjoying a brew in the Stokers' Messdeck, he asked if any of them wanted to ask him any questions about his Army life.

No one did, until the leading hand of the mess felt he had to say something, cleared his throat and, looking at the rather unfamiliar shoulder straps with the combination of crown, laurel wreath and crossed batons (not hugely different from a Chief Petty Officer's cap badge), and said, "Ain't you a bit on the old side to be just a senior NCO ?" :eek:

Michael Carver merely smiled, and simply said that he would probably not have got that far if he had joined in the ranks!:ok:

Jack

Chugalug2
12th Sep 2013, 10:24
Ah, Danny, what a wonderful pastoral scene you paint. Yet the military training was ever present. Use of relief features to obscure and to hide, intelligence to warn of enemy movement and dispositions, camouflage to prevent detection from above and, most importantly of all, a well rehearsed reaction plan to fool and confuse said enemies when engaged at close quarters. All well worth the time and effort to enjoy the life of bucolic pleasure that you describe so well.

Mushrooming was always a seasonal pleasure of course, even more so if consumed there and then though, in the "frying fly up". So sad, and yet so typical, that all this should be swept away by the "white heat of technology".

I remember the joy of laying out on the grass at Thruxton, awaiting my turn to fly one of Wg Cdr (retd) Doran Webb's Jackaroos on a Flying Scholarship course, watching and listening to a Lark ascending. No room now for such of course in its "developed" form.

Ah nostalgia, they don't make it like they used to!

Union Jack
12th Sep 2013, 10:27
Jack - Sir Andrew, shortly before his untimely passing from pneumonia. He stood us a round more than once - as we looked after his personal Gazelle, XW855 that now resides in the Hendon museum.

Blacksheep -

Makes good sense.:ok:

"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.

Makes even better sense.:ok::ok:

Curiously enough, my mention of FM Carver reminds me of the occasion when, long after he had "retired", he was spending a day at sea as the guest of my Admiral and I was acting as his minder as he took a very informal, and unannounced, walk round the flagship. FM Carver was simply wearing his tanky's beret and dark trousers and a woolly pully with rather tired looking shoulder straps and, whilst we were enjoying a brew in the Stokers' Messdeck, he asked if any of them wanted to ask him any questions about his Service life.

No one did, until the leading hand of the mess felt he had to say something, cleared his throat and, looking at the rather unfamiliar shoulder straps with the combination of crown, laurel wreath and crossed batons (not hugely different from a Chief Petty Officer's cap badge), and said, "Aren't you a bit on the old side to be just a senior rate?" :eek:

Michael Carver merely smiled, and simply said that he would probably not have got that far if he had joined in the ranks!:ok:

On another occasion, I boarded a bus late one night in Whitehall, and it was only wehn I sat down that I realised that I was sitting beside a long "retired" Admiral of the Fleet, who may or not have been the son of a very distinguished artist. "Good, evening, Sir, " I politely ventured, to which he simply replied, without turning his head, "You ain't seen me, right?":)

Jack

Danny42C
12th Sep 2013, 19:44
Fixed Cross, 26er and BEagle,

Thanks for your help with the question. The problem was, I hadn't dug deep enough:

"Picture of Hawker-Hunter T7 Military Trainer Plane and Information
www.airpowerworld.info/trainers/hawker-hunter-t7-trainer-plane.htm‎ (http://www.airpowerworld.info/trainers/hawker-hunter-t7-trainer-plane.htm‎) Cached The Hawker Hunter T7 entered RAF service in 1958 and one aircraft was assigned to each of the RAF's Hawker Hunter fighter squadrons, the remaining aircraft......" (Google)....So 'Gus' didn't have a T7 to try.

'Fraid I don't know Chris Golds, but the name may ring bells with others.

Perhaps the moment to put this in, which I've been saving for a rainy day:

A visitor flew in one day for some reason: a smart Hunter F6 with Sqdn markings, Pilot - a F/L Fryer. Claude Fryer and I had been on 'A' Flight of 20 Sqdn together, we'd enjoyed many a tail-chase with Spitfires over Anglesey in the old days. I know he retired a S/Ldr, but don't know whether he got his Sqdn or whether his 'scraper' came later.

He invited me climb in and have a look round. It was one of those aircraft in which you feel at home right away. 80% of what was in front of me was much the same as in the Meteors and Vampires I'd flown ten years before. There was little to frighten the horses.

It would not be all that hard, I thought, for a "Proficient"(?) Meteor pilot to fire this up and take it away (I suppose the Commandant must have felt much the same). Of course, it was all just a pipe dream. My flying days were over for good - but I still had a tinge of regret for what might have been.

I cannot help contrasting that with the cockpits of today. Some short time ago there was a Thread here on the most recent Course of FJs to graduate from Valley. (I think there were as many as four of them). There was a shot of the Hawk II simulator cockpit with an AVM in possession. I looked over his shoulder at a sort of Star Wars scenario.

Everything was utterly foreign to me, I spotted something which looked vaguely like an artificial horizon, but that was about all. And how do all those banks of numbers work ? Does a robot ask you: "If you want to do a slow roll to the left, press number four - to hear these choices again, press hash ? (not entirely joking). And what happens when it all goes pear-shaped ? Do you actually have to fly the thing ?

D.

Chugalug2
12th Sep 2013, 20:21
Danny:-
There was little to frighten the horses.
I know where you're coming from, Danny, but the T7 PN's certainly constitute rather more than an evening's light reading:-
2501 todo (http://www.avialogs.com/index.php/en/aircraft/uk/hawker/hunter/2501todo.html)
just looking at the cockpit layout diagrams, p186 et seq, one recalls Kenneth Williams questions to steely eyed and granite jawed Test Pilot Anthony Aloysius Hancock, "All these knobs and switches, how do you know what they're all for? What does this one do?". Exit man and seat...

I've pored over the lists of numbered items, but can't find a single cup holder anywhere. Can anyone spot them?

Danny42C
12th Sep 2013, 23:21
Chugalug,

I take your point, but much the same could be true in anything else you were flying - those pictures in the front of the P.N.s, and all those numbers, would give anybody the collywobbles !

2501 todo ? Didn't have any success with it, but it's probably just me. I find the "Jever Steam Laundry" very helpful for P.N.s. But cup-holders ! What will they think of next ? The introduction of the jet engine made life simpler in many ways. Checks amounted to "Fuel and Noise". If the engine were running, and stick and rudder worked, it would probably fly.

Of course, it was a "Walter Mitty" moment for me in the Hunter - ah, well, we all have 'em, don't we ?

Cheers, Danny.

BEagle
13th Sep 2013, 06:55
...can't find a single cup holder anywhere.

The only cups likely to be held by Hunter pilots have 3-cipher alphanumeric descriptors....





....such as 34B!

Blacksheep
13th Sep 2013, 07:05
... then there's the Airbus flight deck, with a handy pull out shelf below the instrument panel to perch one's laptop on. :)

- and a nice cup holder.

Warmtoast
13th Sep 2013, 15:53
All this talk of Hunter T.7s takes me back to 1953 - 1955 when I was at Biggin and saw 41 Sqn convert from Meteor F.8s to Hunter F.5s.

Oddly when 41 had their Meteor 8s they had a Vampire T.11 as a trainer, but why? and why not a Meteor T.7?

Herewith with two photos of what 41 were flying until they converted to Hunters. Photos from my early trials of colour (transparency) film and taken from Biggin's old control tower which was alongside the Westerham Road.

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Biggin%20Hill%20Early%201950s/Vampire20T-1120in20Colour1.jpg

http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r231/thawes/Biggin%20Hill%20Early%201950s/Biggin20Hill204120Sqn20F81.jpg

54Phan
13th Sep 2013, 15:58
Thank you for sharing, Warmtoast! Very nice piccies.:ok:

MPN11
13th Sep 2013, 16:00
Wonderful!!

The Vampire is a tad close to the grassy stuff, though! :8

OffshoreSLF
13th Sep 2013, 17:43
I'm hoping to get down to Montrose RAF Station heritage centre tomorrow. They have a Meteor T7 there, so if the weather is OK I'll take a few photos and post them Sunday or Monday if you guys would like.

Their website here - Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre. Britain's first operational military airfield. (http://www.rafmontrose.org.uk/)

Danny42C
13th Sep 2013, 18:15
Warmtoast,

Two lovely pictures of two lovely aeroplanes ! Although we Meteor drivers (at Driffield early '50s) derisively called them "kiddicars", I found the Vampire III and V to be a docile, easy to fly and altogether enjoyable little aircraft, and I'm sure the T.11 would be every bit as nice (although I never got to fly one).

Was there any truth in the old tale that the single-seater was designed so that the front half of a 'Mossie' would fit exactly after the front of the Vampire had been chopped off ?

I wouldn't go so far as to call the Meteor "nice", but we must remember that it was the 'Typhoon' of its day, and being "nice" to the occupant(s) was low on the designer's priorities. Again, I never got past the 4 and the T7.

(Your quote):

"Oddly when 41 had their Meteor 8s they had a Vampire T.11 as a trainer, but why? and why not a Meteor T.7? "

The Auxiliary Sqdns. all flew Vampires, but had a Meteor T7 trainer apiece. I was 'selected' (you, you and you) for the Meteor stream at Driffield, then posted to a Vampire Sqdn. It's the way the RAF does things. (In '42, they put me through an expensive Spitfire OTU, then sent me out to India where there were no Spitfires then - I never flew a 'Spit' again till '49 ).....D.

Blacksheep ...(Your quote):

"then there's the Airbus flight deck, with a handy pull out shelf below the instrument panel to perch one's laptop on".

I thought it was for the Captain's dinner (silver service, of course), and would the cupholder handle a champagne flute ? And (unrelated topic) how could you fly it with a left-hand sidestick ? It's impossible !.....D.

MPN11 ... Obviously, Bloggs thought he was driving down the A.1 !...D.

OffshoreSLF ...Thanks! - though I have mixed memories of the T7 ....D.

Regards to all, Danny.

Danny42C
14th Sep 2013, 23:09
I can remember very few names from my Strubby days. In the Tower there was S/Ldr Norcross, the SATCO. John Henderson, who had been in ATC at Weston Zoyland while I was there, (and after retirement was SATCO at Teesside Airport when I was at Leeming).

"Vin" Harvey was my "oppo", (worth ½d a mile to me as a passenger home/duty when I took the car to Strubby). All of us were ex-war, John and I had been pilots, Norcross was a nav, and Vin was a Wop/Ag (I think).

Of the AFS Instructors, I only remember the name of "Paddy" Hine, who would go on to greater things. Among our Mablethorpe friends were Frank Venn, who instructed on the Canberras, and Jimmy Maxwell, an ex-Pathfinder pilot now on the Lincolns at Manby.

Poor Vin had been a F/O for as long as he could remember, for Examination "B" was far beyond his powers. He looked like staying at that rank until retiring, and there were many like him. As a family man, life was pretty spartan on his pay. In a rare rush of generosity to the head, however, the RAF relented and allowed all those over a certain age to be deemed to have passed "B". Vin put up the second ring, and went out and bought fillet steak for dinner. :ok:

Then as now, birds were a constant flying hazard. At Strubby we were particularly plagued with crows, and it would have been amusing (if it were not so annoying) to see how quickly these highly intelligent creatures shrugged off our countermeasures. We tried broadcasting recorded alarm calls, they treated them with contempt. Limited success for a short time came from a sort of anti-bird "flak".

A Verey cartridge propelled a little packet of fused gunpowder some 50 feet into the air, where it went off with a very loud bang and a puff of white smoke. I forget what we called it. But as there could be no shrapnel with it, there was no harm in it, it was just a frightener: the crows soon worked that out. And the cartridges must have been very expensive, so they were rarely used.

A cheaper and more effective idea was a two-foot length of slow-burning fuse rope with a big "banger" firework every three inches or so (called ?). As the fuse burned along, you got a bang about every twenty minutes (presumably on the supposition that the crows had forgotten about the last one by then, so they got a new fright). At first, the rope was simply laid on the grass, but if that had grown a bit, the explosions were muffled - but still enough to frighten the ###t out of any mushroomer who was collecting nearby, for of course you couldn't "switch off" the fuse at the end of the day.

Mod No.1 was a two-foot stake in the ground, and fasten the the fuse up to that. This worked well for quite a while, then the crows grew blasé again. Time for Mod.2: two foot-long, inch-wide strips of alloy were dangled from the top of the stake; when a firework went off the blast flung these up and jangled them about for several seconds after. This was a new one on the crows, and really shook them for quite some time (and besides the "chimes" also rang in the breeze).

One day, things were quiet, one of these stakes was about 50 yards in front of the Tower. A large crow had perched on top of the stake, the better to view his surroundings without having to take the trouble to fly..... This should be funny, we got the binoculars out.

The awaited explosion came, the chimes clattered. Our crow flapped his wings a couple of times, issued a derisive caw - but didn't even move off his perch ! Local Controller, who had the binoculars, swore that he lifted two single claws in our direction, but I find that difficult to believe. (Crows 1, ATC 0). We retired defeated from the field. :(

Of course, these were all pointless exercises, the crows didn't go away, but just moved to another part of the airfield, where they would be just as much of a nuisance. Having said that, I do not recall an ingested crow case ever - they seem to have the sense to keep out of an aircraft's way. It seems (Wiki) that one of the collectives of crows is a "murder" of crows; you can look up the reference, it's quite interesting.

In the end, the only real answer is the falcon, and falcon plus falconer is a pricey item, and the falcon itself is a hazard. Artificial falcons (kites) have been tried, I believe. And how about a radio controlled model aircraft dressed up as a falcon ? You could organise a volunteer body of Air Training Corps Cadets, on a rota of a day off school in turn. They'd jump at it, you'd give them a games console of some sort to control the "falcon" from Local, and when they grew up there's a new Trade all ready for them in the RAF.... Can't be bad ?

This suggestion is offered gratis to MOD (but a MBE would be nice, and a suitable financial reward even nicer, but will not hold my breath, as it might be fatal at my age).

Goodnight, chaps,

Danny42C


Strictly for the birds !

BEagle
15th Sep 2013, 07:05
I think those 50 ft Verey bangers were known as 'shellcrackers'?

Crow scarers, those bangers on a slow fuse, infuriated 'cement-head' at RAF Chivenor during one of our early dining-in nights. Someone had acquired them from a local agricultural supply place and placed them around the outside of the wooden hut we called the Mess. At regular intervals a loud bang would interrupt the speeches most effectively.

A Met balloon filled with that French Chalk we used on immersion suit seals was also tethered with a piece of black cotton up in the dining room ceiling - and some of that slow burning fuse had been attached. Thus at the moment critique there was a muffled pop and fine snow descended, covering all those within range.

'Long grass' policy helped many aerodrome bird issues - the length of grass being such that birds could neither hide in it nor walk across the top. It was just long enough to poke the average blackbird-sized bird in the chest, which annoyed them sufficiently to persuade them to go elsewhere.

I was at pre-pongo Wattisham when the SATCO became rather vexed at the length to which the contractor had allowed the grass to grow. Rather than keeping to the 'long grass' policy, the grass was clearly being grown long enought to be used for hay making, a nice little earner for the contractor. Which he emphatically denied - until SATCO and I were chatting and watched a tractor go past the crewroom window towing a 4-wheel rotary hay rake! The very long grass was subsequently mown to the correct length PDQ!

CoffmanStarter
15th Sep 2013, 07:33
Crow scarers, those bangers on a slow fuse ...

It's probably a regional thing ... but over here in deep dark East Sussex they are called Rookies. Said explosive equipment is used liberally around these parts during the Bonfire Season (Lewes Guy Fawkes etc.) ... which is just about to kick off.

http://www.apm-supplies.co.uk/images/products/bangers.jpg

Known to be used for other purposes :hmm:

Anyway ... What happened to the Air Traffic Landrover with his box of cassette tapes, PA system, binoculars and a copy of the Observer Book of Birds ?

Coff.

Chugalug2
15th Sep 2013, 09:42
Danny,
2501 todo ? Didn't have any success with it
Sorry to hear that Danny. If you try again, scroll down past the first image (for that is all that it is), ignore the "download now" pdf file (for that requires membership to do so), and below them is a second "document" image that can indeed be scrolled through page by page, or by selecting "pages" can be scrolled through far quicker to the required page that can then be opened up on its own. It was the same with the Vengeance PNs, if you remember.
2501 todo (http://www.avialogs.com/index.php/en/aircraft/uk/hawker/hunter/2501todo.html)
In commemoration of BoB day, here's the Hurricane PNs, another Hawker classic:-
AP 1564A Hurricane I Aeroplane - Merlin II Engine (http://www.avialogs.com/index.php/en/aircraft/uk/hawker/hurricane/ap-1564a-hurricane-i-aeroplane-merlin-ii-engine.html)
AP 1564B&D Pilot's Notes Hurricane IIA, IIB, IIC, IID and IV Aircraft - Merlin XX Engine (http://www.avialogs.com/index.php/en/aircraft/uk/hawker/hurricane/ap-1564bd-pilots-notes-hurricane-iia-iib-iic-iid-and-iv-aircraft-merlin-xx-engine.html)

Birds have been the Achilles heel of jet aviation from the very beginning, and with modern high bypass ones probably more so now than ever. The daily feeding habits of large waterfowl in particular, together with the juxtaposition of many international airports and waterways, have given rise to some very scary moments to date. Perhaps the most famous instance was that of 15 January 2009, when Flight 1549 ended up in the Hudson River after suffering a total power loss. That all survived is thanks to the airmanship and professionalism of Captain Sullenberger and his crew.
US Airways Flight 1549 - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/US_Airways_Flight_1549)

There have been many attempts to deal with this threat but, birds being birds, it will always be with us. No amount of firing chickens into tethered engines, or hawks, or noise, or grass cutting, etc, will remove it, though they all help to alleviate it. Perhaps the greatest contribution to prevention is the siting of airfields and their associated arrival and departure routes.

So where is Boris proposing to site the new London Airport again?

BEagle
15th Sep 2013, 10:57
What happened to the Air Traffic Landrover with his box of cassette tapes, PA system....

Especially one on of his colleagues had switched cassettes to one which merely bellowed out "WHY DON'T YOU SODDING BIRDS JUST F*** OFF!!!".

An ancient nav, with whom we were issued whilst ours was away on the honking course, told us of an effective method of bird clearance. On night he'd been radar bombing in a Lincoln over a range somewhere in Germany. Somehow a c.ock-up had been made and the bombs duly descended into a large waterfowl sanctuary, Cat5-ing several million deutsche ducks... Questions Were Asked, but this was the early 1950s, so the usual "Shouldn't have started the war, eh Fritz?" sympathetic answer was given....:\

Danny42C
15th Sep 2013, 22:10
BEagle,

The grass cutting contractor was a sore trial to us in the old 'Bendix', too. They did their cutting of the more aircraft-sensitive parts after hours, next morning we'd run up the radar and begin to set-up. Immediately the cry arose: "Where's the Offset Marker ?".

Of course, the cutter, the evening before, had simply pulled it up out of its socket and flung it down on the mown grass to the side, then mowed over the socket. (This was just a piece of pipe let into the ground).....Put it back afterward ?...Don't be silly !

Runway Control Corporal was turned out to replace it. The Marker was big enough to see, but the hole, probably covered with mowings, not so easy to discover. Even with a position line through the two Touchdown Markers, and an estimated one through the Truck (1500 yds away) and parallel to the runway, it could take some time to find. If it were pelting with rain, this task was not appreciated. But then, he shouldn't have joined if he couldn't take a joke, should he ?...D.

Coffman Starter (and BEagle),

The very ones ! Bangers about the size of the 'Big Demon' of my schooldays, which cost twice as much as a 'Little Demon' (6d against 3d ?), but you got twice the bang. Indeed, an enamel mug placed over one would reach the satisfactory height of the (three storied) School Chapel.

The Landrover with the PA and loudhailer might have done just as well to roar at them SWO fashion, for all the good the cassettes did.

The townfolk should have been grateful that the birds got the bombs - it might have been worse ! ...D.

Chugalug,

Many thanks for the feast of links, which will keep me happy for quite some time ! Have had another go at 2501 todo. Worked fine as instructed, gave me Pages 1-3, then - no more ! (tried several times, same result). What have I done wrong now ? If you don't mind, will stick with the 'Jever Steam Laundry', although I don't suppose they have as wide a range of types...D.

So ends the 73rd Anniversary of the Battle of Britain. Media interest of the day ? - 'The Great North Run' ! Ah, well.

Goodnight, all,

Danny.

smujsmith
15th Sep 2013, 22:27
Danny,

How right you are good sir, and how quickly such momentous happenings slip from the public memory. I, like many of my age have a lot to thank "you guys" for. Despite the fact that we are "temporarily" blighted with the curse of the EU, I'm still a free Englishman, proud and loud on this historical anniversary of a brilliant victory. Sleep well Danny, and thank you.

Smudge

Danny42C
16th Sep 2013, 00:03
Smudge,

Thank you sir. I well remember 15th September, 1940. It was at the end of a hot summer's day; the reported list of 'kills' (165, although that figure was revised downward later) was the highest yet; the date has come to be regarded as the turning point of the battle.

The British public, hardly daring to believe, began to realise that we had won the battle (although it went on for about another month before Goering, realising he could not afford the rate of attrition, called a halt).

A little 18-year old clerk resolved to volunteer for the RAF in the hope of becoming a fighter pilot (and there were many more like him).

Cheers, Danny.

mmitch
16th Sep 2013, 10:23
My parents lived less than a mile from an airfield in Kent. Before the war they (and most of their neighbours) moaned about the training 'planes flying low over their houses on Sundays. No one complained when those aircraft changed to Spitfires and Hurricanes just in time. They always told that story to show you should always be prepared.
mmitch.

Chugalug2
16th Sep 2013, 10:52
mmitch:-
They always told that story to show you should always be prepared.
...and they spoke on behalf of a whole generation. Later generations take their place, luxuriating in the freedoms won, in the economic wealth made possible, believing in "me" rather than "we", and that fundamental truth is forgotten and discarded, until it has to be learnt at great cost all over again...

It was always thus and always will be, for the young know best.

Danny, sorry to hear that your computer is playing you up with the PN links. Perhaps it needs a jolly good talking to!

Warmtoast
16th Sep 2013, 11:26
Danny 42

Danny pits his wits against the Crow (Corvus corvidae).

Here's a video of what happens as a crow is ingested into the engine of a B.757 at Manchester.

ThomsonFly 757 bird strike & flames captured on video - YouTube

Union Jack
16th Sep 2013, 11:27
A little 18-year old clerk resolved to volunteer for the RAF in the hope of becoming a fighter pilot .....

..... which he certainly succeeded in doing - with a "Vengeance"!:ok::ok::ok:

(and there were many more like him).

Bless them all ....

Jack

OffshoreSLF
16th Sep 2013, 19:22
Here is the photo of the Meteor at Montrose Air Station museum as promised -
http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/Kintyre/DSCN1551.jpg

Looks a bit sad with the covers on, but I suppose it's near the end of the tourist season.

Also saw this, so thought of Danny and his ATC truck. Don't know if any of you guys recognise it -

http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j294/Kintyre/DSCN1542.jpg

I've got some other photos, but I think I should put them in a historical area, and not clutter up this wonderful thread any more.

MPN11
16th Sep 2013, 19:33
Paint is a bit shiny and yellow. "Does not compute, does not compute … 404 … Blue Screen".

Danny42C might relate more to this … JET MEN GO TO WORLD'S FASTEST SCHOOL - British Pathé (http://www.britishpathe.com/video/jet-men-go-to-worlds-fastest-school/query/RAF+Flying+Training)

Danny42C
17th Sep 2013, 00:49
Chugalug

I've tried talking to it like a Dutch Uncle, but it just sulks (or goes even more bolshie than before). Had a new one a day or so ago. Drafted on 'Notepad', got it onto 'PPRuNepad', something funny happened, lost it off N/Pad, but kept it on P/Pad. What next ?....D.

Warmtoast

Seems crows ain't what they used to be. A 757's big enough to see, and noisy enough for a crow to hear coming, you might suppose. Perhaps he'd gone deaf from all these loud bangs on the airfield.

Serious (genuine question): why didn't the captain stay in Manchester circuit and get it down there again as soon as he could ? (they've got twin runways, after all, surely a 'Mayday' has priority). Why go wandering off ? (Obviously there's a good technical answer, but what is it ?)

Did I hear the Controller say "Surface wind calm" ? Not from the windsock I saw !...D.

Union Jack

Jack,

The war changed many lives out of all recognition (I sometimes look on it as the University to which I could never in normal times aspire). Bless 'em all, as you say...D

OffshoreSLF

Yes,the T7 does look miserable, lonely and neglected doesn't it ? Maybe it is dreaming of happier years gone by, when it was the King of the Skies. (checked WF825 in my log, never flew it - but see below) As for the radar, I've passed the problem on to MPN11 below, who is far more knowledgable about it than I....D.

MPN11

"JET MEN GO TO WORLD'S FASTEST SCHOOL"

This is wonderful ! It must be 203 AFS Driffield just about my time (Feb/Mar'50). Oddly enough, I logged the Sqdn letters instead of airframe numbers, so I can confirm I flew 'K' (twice), 'N' (5 times) and 'P' (eight times). All these appear on the film. I also flew 'S' (seven times), but can't see this aircraft anywhere on it (perhaps they'd ploughed it in before I got there).

The commentator says it was an eight-week Course: naturally this would apply to the "new boys". Some of the poor devils had come straight off Oxfords, for pity's sake ! No wonder the casualty rate was what it was at that time.

I flew 15 hours on the T7 in 22 trips between Feb 6th to 28th, and they turned me loose (after a session in SSQ with some mysterious fever) with a F414 certifying that I was "Average" as a "u/t Jet Pilot". Obviously this was a short "conversion course" for re-entrants with previous experience. In the early classroom footage, there seem to be some old-timers in the back row, but not me.

I was interested to see the quite sophisticated multiple "alarm clock" in use so early. The one we had at Linton in '62-'64 was a much simpler thing, IIRC, and you'll remember the one at Leeming (a magnificent piece of furniture !).

As for the radar head, a wild guess: the PPI aerial for an ACR7D (with the display in the Tower) ??? Looks as if it would be for a shallow lobe, and could the thing be moved up and down, do you think ? No idea, really.....D

Thank you all. Goodnight,

Danny.

STOP PRESS:

Found it ! (Good old Google - some pictures, too)

The Decca Legacy - Chapter 6 - Wootton Bridge Historical
woottonbridgeiow.org.uk/decca-legacy/chapter6.php‎Cached

"The 424 Airfield Control Radar was designed in 1952 to meet an RAF requirement for an 'Approach Radar'. It was designated by the RAF as the ACR7D (note ..."

Geriaviator
17th Sep 2013, 11:02
Fifty years ago a highly experienced ex-WW2 pilot was killed when his Turbulent (VW engine, home build) crashed on the muddy shores of Strangford Lough in Co. Down, a major bird sanctuary. It was concluded that he had collided head-on with a herring gull.

A similar bird was hit by an Aztec shortly after takeoff and drove the leading edge almost to the spar. We washed it out but I still remember the fearful smell when stripping it out three warm July days later. Dangerous creatures, birds.

angels
17th Sep 2013, 11:26
CoffmanStarter - How apt that you should post on bangers.....

I thought the EU had banned these types of firework. Are they sold in the country as bird scarers then? I'd love to get my mitts on some to wake up some of the neighbours. :E

Quite prepared to drive to east Sussex, I know the area well!

BEagle - Fantatastic tale of the errant bombs on the German bird reserve. Ever thought of popping your memoirs on this incredible thread??.....

NutLoose
17th Sep 2013, 11:57
Ahhh.... laying out the Glims and then collecting them in the early morning after night flying.

Pull up to the first one, put the Lightweight Landy in gear and crack the hand throttle open a little, step out the landrover and walk along side it, putting the Glims in the back or putting them out as the landrover drives itself at walking pace down the airfield :)

Paaah, Google selfdrive vehicles, we were doing it in the seventies ;)



...

CoffmanStarter
17th Sep 2013, 12:38
Angels ... Or is that Mr Spot or Mr Forward :)

Sold in the UK as Bird Scarers ... Google ... But should only be sold to the Agricultural sector. The Sussex Police turn a blind eye to their use during legitimate Bonfire Processions/Parades (e.g. Lewes)... but quite rightly will arrest people using them otherwise ... including spectator usage at such events.

CoffmanStarter
17th Sep 2013, 12:42
Ahh ... Nutty another reason to weave the nose of the Chipmunk just in case some bu99er has left one in the grass !

Danny42C
17th Sep 2013, 16:36
Nutloose, and Coffman Starter,

And long before ! Same thing with gooseneck lighter/snuffer.

Any good runamok Landrover stories, anyone ?

D.

pulse1
17th Sep 2013, 17:49
Any good runamok Landrover stories, anyone ?

Got some good civvie ones so not really appropriate although, for one, we were 303 shooting (300 yd) with the ATC at the time and the driver went on to fly Sea Vixens so it might be.

smujsmith
17th Sep 2013, 19:54
Danny,

Not a run amuck Landrover, but a story from my dim and distant past does relate. Picture the scene, a small airfield in the East Midlands circa 1980. The unit operates Chipmunks (AES) and the " last lander" is sat outside the hangar awaiting the attention of the Groundcrew before bye byes. Inside the hangar, SAC Erk, who has had a bad day, upset the Flt Sgt and been detailed to empty the waste bins has hatched a plan. The little Massey Fergie, with hand throttle, with its towed rubbish container is aimed down the centre of the hangar, throttle set and Erk lets out the clutch, jumps off, and begins emptying the bins into the trailer as it slowly progresses down the hangar. About half way along the hangar, a fod bin slips from his grasp, and makes contact with the hand throttle. Massey Fergie leaps into life and accelerates away along the hangar. Erk, with the realisation of his plan, and its failure, attempts, in vain, to catch the runaway train.

The 1940s hangar was not one of Britains finest, being of fairly flimsy construction the door that was struck by the Massey Fergie actually managed to stall the tractor, and even wavered for a few seconds. It then succumbed to Newton's third law of motion and fell off its mountings. Falling outwards the door hit our waiting Chipmunk at the hind quarters, flattening the aft third of the fuselage, the fin and tailplane. By this time, our hero Erk, had decided he would rather be charged for being absent, than for a new Chipmunk, so scarpered to avoid blame. Thankfully, no one was hurt in the incident and yes, Erk got clobbered. I can vouch for its happening as a good pal of mine was the "gang boss" on the Cat3 repair team that spent several months rebuilding the Chipmunk. Sadly, in those days, the MU did the full recovery to Flight test, and the team somehow managed to reverse connect the elevators during the repair. Causing a lot of consternation to the pilot selected to test it. It's as though the aircraft had decided its time was up. This time potential disaster was averted because the professionalism of the pilot made him query why pulling the stick back put the elevator down :eek: Needless to say, lots of red faces and not a lot of pride in the whole episode. No one injured though, so "alls well that ends well".

Smudge:ok:

clicker
17th Sep 2013, 23:35
The "meatbox" film was interesting and being the lurking layman brings up a question.

The clip suggested it was ATC's task to inform the pilots when time was running low using that clock device shown.

Why ATC and not the crews themselves using that rather handy instrument called a fuel gauge?

Danny42C
18th Sep 2013, 01:50
clicker,

That question has been asked many times. Certain old reactionaries like myself have aired a novel suggestion:

Why not attack the problem from the other end ? Why not recruit for pilot training people who can demonstrate the ability to tell the time and read a fuel gauge ?

Sadly, the suggestion was not well received (at senior level).

D.

clicker
18th Sep 2013, 10:24
Danny,

We must not raise the matter again otherwise some smart "Elf and Safety" man might bring it back. :)

Danny42C
18th Sep 2013, 17:58
clicker,

Pace H&S, another thought occurs to my fertile mind.

Most cockpits have a clock these days (it was not always so, for in former times they were wind-up jobs which had a tendency to vanish, and were certain to do so after a crash). Now on our bedside locker sits a little quartz clock (Boots - £2.50; (this is infinitely more accurate than the expensive piece of machinery on my wrist). For that price they even provide an alarm function.

Why not mod the cockpit clock (or buy another, probably cheaper, so long as MOD does not handle the contract) to do this ? Bloggs could set the alarm as part of his "Vital Actions". A flashing red light might warn him that his 40 minutes were up and it was time to think about getting down.

I offer this suggestion with hope of reward, but will not order the Bentley just yet. As you say, let this be the last word on the subject (some hope !)

D.

Danny42C
18th Sep 2013, 18:35
Smudge,

A harrowing tale ! As for the slap-dash M.U., I am disturbed to read that, so late in the day, this primeval case of Murphy's Law could still happen. It used, so I'm told, be not uncommon in the days of frequent wing changes after landings ('three-point'- both wingtips and the prop). The solution was connecting turnbuckles of different sizes for the control cables to the ailerons.

But long after my days in the open cockpit, I still waggled the stick and had a look round to see what was actually happening, but often you couldn't see the back well (or at all). Your man had learned well. I hope someone's head at the M.U. rolled for it !

Danny.

Fareastdriver
18th Sep 2013, 20:42
Serious (genuine question): why didn't the captain stay in Manchester circuit and get it down there again as soon as he could ? (they've got twin runways, after all, surely a 'Mayday' has priority). Why go wandering off ? (Obviously there's a good technical answer, but what is it ?)

Serious answer; Fuel.

When he punches off to Costa del Whatever he is carrying a lot of fuel. Because of the tight schedules probably enough for both ways. As a result he is way above his landing weight. He could land in an emergency but as you know you can go for some time on one engine. He can either burn off the fuel which takes ages and is not popular with worried passengers or he can jettison it. The inhabitants of Manchester are not happy if you dump a load of Jet A over their washing lines so they have to climb above 3,000 ft. to ensure the fuel vapour does not descend to ground level.

It is tactful to wander off to a quiet corner of the country so that the onlookers on the ground do not phone the local rag reporting an airliner enveloped in flames and trailing clouds of smoke. Above cloud is ideal.

It happens quite often. Not the engine failure bit but other reasons.

When I was on the mighty Valiant years ago the SOP was to jettison the dregs left in the underwing tanks just before you started your final descent. Another SOP was that on arrival at the circuit the pilots would use any fuel in excess of 10,000 lbs bashing the circuit, ILS etc. On a Friday afternoon skilful and experienced pilots like myself would hoard enormous amounts of fuel in the underwings which were required to be jettisoned at the top of the descent. Invariably this resulted in the fuel contents being approximately 10,000 lbs on finals.

Never missed the shutters going up at TGIF.

clicker
18th Sep 2013, 21:13
I don't think it applies to the B757 but I understand some airliners don't have the means to dump fuel so they need to burn it off until down to max landing weight.

Needless to say in a real life and death emergency they would go for an overweight arrival.

Danny42C
18th Sep 2013, 23:29
Fareastdriver and clicker,

Thanks, chaps ! Should've thought of that myself. Never a trouble in anything I flew; just shows, you're never too old to learn !

Danny.

Danny42C
19th Sep 2013, 18:38
We are getting near the end of my time at Strubby; here's a short story before I forget it:

I do not know the Canberra at all, I have never flown it, or in it, and have had nothing to do with it in any way. But there was an Apocryphal Story of a happening shortly before my arrival in '55, which I shall now relate without any warranty of its truth, stated or implied.

I'm told that it is possible to mismanage the fuel system in such a way that the aircraft is left teetering with the CoG. almost exactly above the axles. On the day in question, it was flown by two VSO students at the College. These two, who doubtless would have been wiry young men twenty years before, had put on a pound or two in the intervening period. Together in the cockpit they added up to a considerable counterpoise well forward of the mainwheels.

But having landed back from their exercise, they put the Canberra back on the line and, not without difficulty, struggled down out of the hatch. As VSO No.2 abandoned ship........the Canberra settled back comfortably on its haunches, to the consternation of the bystanders.

As it was now see-sawing in the gentle afternoon breeze, and thumping its tail on the tarmac, a posse of AFS studes was hastily assembled, the Canberra nose lassooed and hauled down and held down until they got a refueller up pronto to restore order. Much damage ? - don't think so.

Did it happen ? Was it even possible ? Don't know. (Ask a Canberra man).

Evenin' all,

Danny42C


Heigh, ho, and up she rises !

Wander00
19th Sep 2013, 19:04
Certainly happened at Bassingbourn in the 60s, ISTR to a PR3

Geriaviator
20th Sep 2013, 17:31
Today we pay tribute to another valiant aviator who has taken his place among the stars: Air Marshal Sir John Curtiss, who died last week at the age of 88. Those who have been enthralled by this thread in recent years, particularly Reg Levy, one of our stars, will find this account of special interest.

John Curtiss was born on December 6, 1924, to an Australian engineer who had come to England in 1914 and joined the Royal Flying Corps. Young John went to Radley and joined the Oxford University Air Squadron in 1943 to train as a pilot but was streamed as a navigator, joining 578 Sqn after D-Day in 1944.

Daylight raids on V1 and V2 sites were interspersed with night raids on Germany, on one of which a 1000lb bomb from an aircraft above went clean through the Halifax fuselage, an event vividly described by Reg. Later, with another crew on a training flight , Curtiss baled out when their Halifax caught fire, he and the W/Op being the only survivors.

After the war he served on the Berlin Airlift of 1948/49, went to staff college and became Sqn Ldr, was promoted to Group Captain and left Wittering as station commander. His subsequent posts included commandant of the RAF Staff College and commander of 19 Group, formerly Coastal Command. After being knighted, in 1982 he joined the five-man command team for the Falklands conflict with its much publicised Vulcan raid on Port Stanley.

After retirement Sir John became chief executive of the SBAC and led planning for the Farnborough air show. He maintained his links with the RAF and at 83, with two artificial hips, he made his second parachute jump in aid of charity. He wanted to do another one but said later he had been grounded by his family.

Danny42C
20th Sep 2013, 20:02
The cat Peter stayed with us until summer '57, then one morning we were discussing getting him the 'snip'. He carried on licking his fur on the hearth rug with feigned indifference. But he was reviewing his options..... Next morning he had gone and didn't come back.

We asked around the neighbourhood; no one had 'won' a tabby. Nor had any been handed into the constabulary. The local children (always the most reliable source in these matters) reported no squashed cats. He had simply vanished; he had always been a semi-feral animal, he would undoubtedly survive on his wits.

In the end it was just as well. Mrs D.'s mother's dog had pups in the autumn. We chose one. "Sally" was just a mongrel, basically a small Manchester terrier (Black-and-Tan). She was to be our faithful companion for 18 years; when she died we were heartbroken. We never had another dog.

The months raced by into summer of '58: we'd been in post for three years, the end must surely be in sight. The news came in August - Thorney Island ! "Jammy", they said. "Lucky devil", they said. They were not wrong.

Someone (don't remember who) would be in line for the best hiring of his life. We started the rigmarole with which all service families grow familiar. We got the Three Estimates from the mover (by the tried and trusted method of picking the one we wanted: he would get two higher ones from his pals in the trade). We started packing our stuff: it is amazing how much you can accumulate on even one tour.

The date for the dreaded Marching Out Inspection was fixed. Actually, we had little to fear. The house had been in beautiful condition to start with and we'd kept it that way. Peter, ever the perfect gentleman, had concentrated his destructive efforts on the hessian-padded kitchen table leg I'd provided for him. Sally we'd house-trained from the start. We were complimented by the Housing Officer on the excellent condition of the place. Final gas and electricity meter readings were taken.

The TV set (hired - 10/- a week, a bad bargain if ever there was one, as over the three years we'd paid £75 - and you could buy a good set for that) had to go back. Against that, the cyclometer on the front fork of the 'Winged Wheel' read 3,000+ miles, all home/duty @ 1d/mile (motorbike rate) = £12/10+ (gross). As it seemed to run for ever on a gallon of petrol (ca 3/- a gallon), it had pretty well paid for itself already and I was in profit.

Someone else would have to stoke the church boiler that winter, and do most of the cleaning and the flowers. Then followed the sad part: leaving our first married home and saying "goodbye" to all the friends and neighbours we'd gathered in the last three years.

Then we pumped up the tyres on old "Micky", loaded kit and small dog on board, handed in the keys, put 180 on the compass and we were on our way. I do not remember how long it took us to get down there, but we finished up in a little hotel in Horndean. We didn't have to stay there for long, for we fell on our feet (housing-wise) almost at once; for a hiring came up in Hayling Island.

A Lt/Cdr had bought a new-built pair of two-bedroom flats for his future retirement. They were in Bembridge Drive, right down at the SE tip of the island; in fact the Drive ran parallel to, and was the last road before, the shingle beach. The top flat was let as an RAF hiring, below us a nice old lady, "Nance" Tibbott, lived with her even older brother. Our flat had a balcony facing across the Solent to the Isle of Wight. The Drive was a dead-end to the east, there was no through traffic. Our landlord had chosen well.

Distances were the only problem. As the crow flies, the ATC Tower at Thorney was only about two miles across the mud flats. But I had to drive some six miles up the Island to Havant, then three along the coast road to Emsworth, then another five down through the 'Deeps' to Thorney. There was no way round this short of a hovercraft (or swim).

However, Thorney was a Master Airfield, open 24/7, so we were on a four-watch system. You would start (say) on Monday afternoon, then do Tuesday morning and (all) Tuesday night to 0800 Wednesday. The rest of Wednesday and Thursday completely off, then in again Friday afternoon and so on. The cherry on the cake was that, although Local and Approach spent the nights at their desks, Talkdown, when there was no demand for his services (which was generally the case), had a room in the bottom of the Tower and got his beauty sleep (or most of it) in there.

More next time. Goodnight, chaps,

Danny42C.


Some people have all the luck.

clicker
20th Sep 2013, 22:56
Danny, your tale of the Canberra reminds me of the first IL-62 airliner I saw at Heathrow. The IL-62 has a small wheel on a strut at the back.

We young aircraft spotters would sometimes get asked why it had that dinky wheel when the VC-10, a similar design, didn't.

Our reply was that when all the Russian hosties had got rid of the passengers they would go to the back of the aircraft for a cup of tea and that was the only way to stop the aircraft sitting on its tail.

Chugalug2
21st Sep 2013, 11:09
Danny, you have now received your just reward from a grateful nation, a posting to what was surely the nearest thing to being an RAF holiday camp, notwithstanding the genuine article at your pied-a-terre, Hayling Island. Talking of which, your chosen hiring would seem to be now sited in a private road. Unless it be at this end of the Drive it must remain an unseen part of your peregrinations:-
https://maps.google.co.uk/maps?ie=UTF8&ll=50.781091,-0.965424&spn=0.00145,0.004128&t=m&z=19&vpsrc=6&layer=c&cbll=50.781285,-0.965332&panoid=sD_WMrUPFf5lu0FXl5N5rQ&cbp=12,159.68,,0,8.01

Danny42C
21st Sep 2013, 17:51
clicker,

I think the explanation you youngsters offered to enquirers might have derived from a rather ungalant reference to the supposed BMI of the Aeroflot hosties !

I've heard of tail-scrapes on landings with the Vampire and Hunter ("Overdone the roundout a bit this time, Hoskins !"), though thankfully it never happened to me (and the Vampire's tail booms do come down rather low).

Purely my own opinion, but I think it is caused by an optical illusion created by the excellent downward field of view over the nose (certainly in the single-seat Vampire, probably with the Hunter). In this, the pilot (who might well have spent most of his earlier time with a huge nose blocking out all his forward vision) instinctively feels he ought to have more nose between him and the concrete, and over-rotates in consequence.

That being the case, an auxiliary wheel well aft should avoid most of the scrapes. (I would be interested in other opinions on this).

I cannot let this go without resurrecting a very old joke. Appointment to a captaincy on the VC-10 carried with it an automatic 'scraper' (or so we heard). Which invited the deflating enquiry: "Are you really a Squadron Leader or just a VC-10 pilot ?"......D.


Chugalug,

Thanks for the link. Have just got a little picture which I can make go round and round, but not much else. Daughter will be back home soon, will ask her to get me a street view. Her cousin was in those parts about 15 years ago, took a photo, the flats were still there then and as attractive as ever. Unfortunately have forgotten street number.

It wasn't a private road in our time (except possibly in being not adopted by the local authority).....D.

Cheers, both,

Danny.

Chugalug2
21st Sep 2013, 19:05
Danny, I'm afraid that the link is the closest that Google Street view can get you to Bembridge Drive now, for it cannot send its candid camera bicyclists exploring off public roads. Obviously your hiring was further along and out of sight, though maybe it can be picked out on the satellite view.
Of more interest is perhaps your place of work, Thorney Island. Very familiar to truckers of a certain age such as I, but for those unfamiliar with it Wikki as ever steps in to advise:-
RAF Thorney Island - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_Thorney_Island)
and on Google Maps here:-
https://maps.google.com/maps?ll=50.816944,-0.920833&q=loc:50.816944,-0.920833&hl=en&t=h&z=14
The satellite view shows how the road to East Thorney crossed the main runway, where Frosty Winterbottom nearly succeeded in running down his wife's mini with a Handley Page Hastings, due to finger trouble by the airman controlling the crossing gates!

Danny42C
21st Sep 2013, 23:08
Chugalug,

Very helpful indeed ! - although I was amused (on the Google link map) to see East Thorney captioned as West Thorney !

Managed to hunt down what I think was our flat, but it's very confusing. When we were there, the end of Bembridge Drive was the exreme SE point of building on the island - you could look across to Thorney from there - but now there has been extensive building to the east of the Drive.

A lot changes in fifty years !

In your "Frosty" case, the Local Controller should have been switching the lights - Lord knows, he'd precious little else to do !

Danny.

Chugalug2
22nd Sep 2013, 09:52
Danny, to be fair Frosty was doing some Co-Pilot Dual training, so he would have kept Local busy with his roller landings. Word has it that espying the car crossing the runway after he had taken over to roll following the co's landing, he pulled back and so staggered over what turned out later to be his own car. Downwind he informed ATC that this would be a full stop and final landing. Thereafter he shut down, signed off the F700 and auth sheet, and made for the OM. There he had a couple of stiff whiskies and made his way home to his OMQ. Apologising to his wife for his now somewhat belated arrival, he explained that he had called in at the bar to steady himself after a rather unnerving experience. "Never mind your unnerving experience, I've had a far worse one, I was nearly run down by an aeroplane earlier!", she complained!
As to Bembridge Drive, is the view any better on Bing?
Bing Maps - Driving Directions, Traffic and Road Conditions (http://www.bing.com/maps/?v=2&cp=50.816944~-0.920833&style=r&lvl=14&sp=Point.50.816944_-0.920833_RAF%20Thorney%20Island___#Y3A9NTAuNzgwODM0fi0wLjk2M zc1OSZsdmw9MTYmc3R5PXImZW89MCZxPUJlbWJyaWRnZSUyNTIwRHJpdmUlM jUyQyUyNTIwU291dGglMjUyMEhheWxpbmc)=

Danny42C
22nd Sep 2013, 19:19
Chugalug,

Thanks ! Bing Maps did the trick. 9 Bembridge Drive duly identified, recognisably the place (by Bird's eye view) although neighbourhood much changed.

Reply delayed because PPRuNe incommunicado for a while - Data link broken, so it seems.

Might get next Post away tonight, if pull finger out !

Danny.

BEagle
22nd Sep 2013, 20:27
I think the explanation you youngsters offered to enquirers might have derived from a rather ungalant reference to the supposed BMI of the Aeroflot hosties !

When I was involved in the Gorbachev / Thatcher meeting at Brize, I was one of the 'assistants' for the first Aeroflot Il62 crew. The 40 passengers, all KGB in matching raincoats, trooped off to the 'Gateway' for a luxury lunch.... We then provided NOTAMs etc. for the crew and chatted whilst waiting for the KGB chaps to finish lunch. The senior Russian stewardess asked if we'd like coffee; initially she had rather a stern 'Rosa Klebb' expression, but when we thanked her for the kind offer, she became more of a prep school matron or favourite great aunt, broke into a happy smile and arranged for the coffee to be brought to us. Whereupon half a dozen gorgeous giggly stewardesses appeared with (very good) coffee and sinfully rich Russian choccy.

So no, Aeroflot hosties aren't all built like Siberian tractor mechanics!

One requirement of the Yanks was that each aircraft had to have an American navigator on board in order to enter US airspace. 'Our' navigator (a lady) duly arrived and we heard much happy laughter from the flight deck. "What's the issue - surely you've had women in your air force since the Great Patriotic War?", I asked Aeroflot Yuri, my Russian interpreter. "Da - we do. But not many look like her!", he answered. It was true that the US navigator was rather a honey - maybe deliberately chosen to put the Russians at ease?

The Gorbachev / Thatcher visit was truly a fascinating day.

Danny42C
22nd Sep 2013, 22:48
After Strubby, Thorney Island was - well - "cushy". For a start, ATC were in one of the new "Gaydon" towers. No longer any need to climb a wet and slippery outside staircase up to Local in a draughty, leaky pigeon loft. Now you were in warm, air conditioned, triple-glazed luxury with a fantastic view through the eight window sections.

A separate console carried all the controls for airfield lighting. You had a repeat CR/DF panel, so that the place could, at a pinch, be run single-handed. If you wanted to go outside (say to fire a Verey cartridge or take an accurate bearing with a hand bearing compass), a little side door at the head of the stairs let you out onto the flat roof.

A floor down housed the big Approach room, SATCO's office and the r/t monitors. Below that,the ground floor housed Met, the little cubby-hole with a bunk for the night Radar man, a small workshop for the radar/radio mechs, somewhere for tea-making (vital), and the Usual Offices.

I've left the best to the last. Away on the far side of the airfield, sited to work runway 19, sat the GCA (a CPN-4, a radar which I had never seen before, and about which I knew absolutely nothing). For all its eight (or more ?) wheels, it never moved an inch (nor did any other CPN-4 AFAIK). Theoretically, it was mobile in the sense that it could be hauled from one airfield to another, but you would need a very powerful tug (it was not a prime mover). A runway change was quite out of the question, so that was one worry less.

So, before pontificating on this equipment from a position of total ignorance, I thought I should arm myself with some useful facts; our good friend Google turned up trumps with:

"radars
martinshough.com/aerialphenomena/Lakenheath/radarspecs.htmCachedAN/CPN-4.

Short range airfield surveillance radar, part of AN MPN-11A Ground Controlled Approach (GCA) system manufactured by Gilfillan. Self-contained ..."

(and if you read that, you'll know more than I remember - it seems that CPN-4 forms part of the MPN-11 system, and we have MPN-11 on board to assist with any arcane questions).

Starting from the Tower, getting across to the Truck was quite interesting. The hamlet of East Thorney lay to the east of the airfield, and so the public road, which ran down the west side from Emsworth, crossed the airfield. The first set of traffic lights were just off the side of the Tower, then the road crossed the West taxiway, two runways, past the access track to the GCA and over the East Taxiway through the other lights to the camp and beyond. The lights were of course controlled by Local and it was amusing to watch the stream of cars, trucks, cyclists and double-deckers going through while a Varsity, both its Hercules smoking at tickover, waited patiently for the lights to change.

After Strubby, which had roughly as many movements per day as Heathrow (then), Thorney was a haven of peace and tranquillity. I would say that it was not nearly as busy as Manby. IIRC, the only users were the No.2 (?) Air Navigation School, with the Varsities and a few Meteor NF 11s for the high-speed exercises, and a detachment of 22 Sqdn with two "Whirwinds"(?) for SAR duty along the south coast. Other than that, we had the occasional visitor and transits and that was all.

As all the School flying was done by 'old hairy' Staff pilots, who instinctively knew their positions within ten miles anywhere at any time in the UK, Approach was not overburdened with work, and I don't remember doing any Talkdowns in my 18 months there, but suppose I must have done some.

To say that the CPN-4 was luxury in comparison with the Bendix was an understatement. The seats were little armchairs; no need for a Director or Tracker any more, for in front of me were two big tubes, one over the other, the PPI on top, going out to 60 miles, and the PAR, (out to 10) below, with both centreline (above) and glidepath (below) presented electronically on the same PAR tube. No more perspex cursors !

The tubes were amber-lit, much easier on the eyes, and we had Moving Target Indicator. This crafty gubbins compares the return time of each pulse with the one before, and rejects all which coincide. You can have this in or out as you please, mostly people just set it far enough out to wipe out close ground returns (up to 3-5 miles). There was a trick: circuit traffic is at times moving in a circle around you, its distance from you does not change, so nor do the pulse return times, MTI will not show the blip.

I am indebted to MPN-11 for the information that there were three identical consoles in a line down the Truck, for I can remember I always took the one nearest the door, but only vaguely recall how many more there were.

Now that is quite enough for the moment, so more about it next time.

Goodnight again,

Danny 42C.


Some people have all the luck.

Danny42C
24th Sep 2013, 17:46
Most of the time at Thorney we were blessed with very fine weather, and the "Winged Wheel" could really come into its own. I reckoned my commute as 14 miles door to door, and it was all pretty level. Around 45 minutes was enough to do it comfortably.

I think it must have been in the spring of '59. It was a pearl of a morning as I set off about 0700 and buzzed up the quiet lanes of Hayling and over the Langstone bridge which connected it to the mainland. I exchanged a cheery wave with the toll box keeper, who knew me well enough by sight (and had been alerted by the approaching sound as of an angry wasp). In those days there was a small toll (only a few pence IIRC) on traffic going onto the Island, but anyone in uniform was exempt, and I suppose the island residents had some sort of a Pass.

On the far side was Havant; I turned East on what I now see is the A.23, the coast road, and opened throttle wide to get up to my 20 mph cruising speed - (acceleration was hardly jack-rabbit with only about 40cc to play with). Having wound it up to that point, I throttled back a bit to take things easier. Or rather, I moved the throttle lever (not a twist grip - but on top of handlebar left ) back a bit.

And that was all that happened, except that the Bowden cable bowed out slightly. The little throttle block in the tiny Amal carb had jammed at the top of its travel. Frantic waggling failed to clear it, so the W/Wheel now had the bit firmly between its teeth, and quickly got up to 25 mph, which was Vne.

This had never happened to me before. There was no ignition switch, so the first, obvious thing to do was to clamp the brakes on hard and kill the engine. There was the usual "pull-up" thing on the front wheel of my old-style bike (lever on RH) and the W/Wheel's internally-expanding device in the back, actuated by back-pedalling. These together produced a lot of noise, but little effect - speed reduced to 24, but no more. No salvation by that method; persistence would only add burnt-out brakes to my woes.

Now I'd some serious thinking to do. The A.23 was a straight stretch of some three miles, then when you reached Emsworth, there was a considerable dip, then a fairly steep RH climbing turn out of it into the village. This would be quite busy with early-morning traffic; something had to be done before I got that far, or it would be messy. I reckoned I had 4-5 minutes at most.

Option 1: Fall off. Even at 24 mph this would result in GBH for me (no helmets then), and a Cat.5 bike.

Option 2: Hold clutch out (lever under LH handlebar), brake to standstill, hop off keeping clutch clenched, try and do something about it before engine overspeeded to destruction - with added risk of losing grip on clutch and bike taking off like a kangaroo (and there was light traffic about). Cat.5 bike (probably) again

Option 3: Keep RH on bars, lean back supine on saddle and try to get left hand underneath the flat tank (on back carrier), feel under it for fuel pipe, run up it till the slide on-off tap and cut fuel supply. Extreme caution would be needed so as to not to lose fingertips in whirling extra-strong spokes, or touch plug (car 14mm, taller than the pot, no insulation on connector tip). And I would be at full stretch backward, not too easy to maintain S&L on bike.

I tried Option 3. It took ages, my cap fell off (the least of my worries) but thankfully I managed it. The motor died about half a mile short of Emsworth. It had, in the words of the great Iron Duke after Waterloo: "Been a damned close-run thing". It was the work of a moment to put it on its stand, whip the top of the Amal off, pull the slide out, clean it off (and inside the barrel), put all back, test for Full and Free Movement, fuel 'on', fire-up and backtrack for my Cap, S.D.

Against all expectation, Mr.Bates's finest was on the roadside half a mile astern, had not been pinched or run-over, and was generally in good nick (only six years old, anyway). The incumbent was still shaving in the Tower when I came in, so he didn't mind my being a few minutes late.

Good-day, gentlefolk.

Danny42C.


"Mind my bike" (might be a limited audience for that).

Union Jack
24th Sep 2013, 18:50
Norman Tebbit would be proud of you, Danny!:ok:

On the hat front, far be it for me to disillusion you, but have a look at Post 23 at
http://www.pprune.org/military-aircrew/400703-raf-officers-hats-2.html

No place here for me to tell the story of my one and only visit to Thorney Island, which resulted in a week in the Royal Naval Hospital Haslar of blessed memory.:sad:

Jack

Danny42C
24th Sep 2013, 20:42
Union Jack,

Jack,

Well, of course there's place to hear your (however harrowing) story of your
ill-starred visit to Thorney Island ! Bring it on !

I may reciprocate shortly with a tale of my Trip in a Submarine, but must first complete the rounds of Thorney.

Sad about Bates. Is nothing sacred ?

Danny.

smujsmith
25th Sep 2013, 20:16
Union Jack,

Lets be having your tale then mate, Thorney has some good memories for many ex Herk folk, but yours sounds of "interest". Fire away a full broadside if you please !!!!

Smudge:ok:

Union Jack
25th Sep 2013, 22:01
Oo err! I've gone a bit shy, not least since it might blow my cover ..... I'll think about it.:hmm:

Jack

Blacksheep
26th Sep 2013, 16:17
Mention of Il62s and Russian crews makes me recall the time in Borneo, when, as a Duty Engineer, I asked a visiting RAF VC10 Captain, in that special way we Englishmen use for addressing foreigners, what services he required. When he replied, I complimented him on his English and of course he fell right into the baited trap by telling me that he was English. "Oh, I thought you were Russians". He was not amused (the Flight Engineer enjoyed the joke though)

Danny42C
26th Sep 2013, 21:24
Strolling across the grass towards the CPN-4 Truck, you were greeted with the sound of - silence ! Or near silence, anyway. The original two-trailer set had, I was told, an Allison engine-driven generator, but the RAF couldn't afford it, so this was taken out; instead they tapped into the airfield mains power and put in a rotary converter to turn this into US current suitable for the equipment. This converter produced only a low and soothing hum. Vertical and horizontal sweeps of the PAR were electronic and noiseless. The Search antenna on top (15 rpm) was quiet, too. All in all, this was a restful environment.

Beside the working trailers, there was a small rest caravan, but for the life of me I can't remember a single thing about it. It is a curious thing that, although I can recall almost every detail of my first radar (MPN-1), the memory of the finer points of my later ones (two CPN-4s, an ACR7D and a MPN-11 PAR (in effect, a CPN-4 which had come in out of the cold) escape me.

As the CPN-4 was a fixture, it seemed that one of the mechs, a keen gardener, had taken the opportunity to dig out a small kitchen garden at the rear of the site; this bore a plaintive little notice with the plea: "Do not strain your greens on our cabbage patch". None of the truck radars had sanitary arrangements of any sort, and with the inordinate quantity of tea consumed, it was standard procedure, on occasion, to dodge behind (but well clear) of the truck onto the grass.

I don't think I had a Search Director at all, although of course we had F/Sgts as Local Controllers, and many of these would have had Director experience on the MPN-1s. The whole idea seemed to be to run GCA as a one-man operation. This is fine in low-intensity (and it would be hard to imagine any lower than Thorney), but it was a Master Airfield. ATC was still haunted by the memory of the "West Raynham" tragedy two years before (a botched, panicky multiple diversion ending in the loss of (IIRC) six Hunters and one pilot).

There was no reason in principle why a similar scenario should not develop again at Thorney one day, and how would we cope if we were on the receiving end ? The CPN-4 idea seemed to be that you would put another operator in seat 2, and yet another in seat 3, and Approach would sequence the rest, giving No.4 aircraft to seat 1 as No.1 a/c touched down, and so on. There was only one flaw in that arrangement - we only had one operator ! And it would require 3 discrete GCA frequencies, and coordinating three talkdowns (after all, you've only one runway) tricky indeed.

If you could find an ex-Director F/S, then he could have seat 2, he would take the PPI tube, I would keep the PAR one, we would operate as in days of yore. However, it seemed that Thorney had simply not thought about it at all, on the good old principle that "it'll never happen". Fortunately, it never did (at least in my time).

On arrival, (and I'm afraid all the names have gone now), SATCO greeted me warmly enough, but rather disconcerted me by telling me that he was immediately handing me over to a Flt/Lt "X" for instruction in my duties. This raised my hackles at once. I had known these 'leading man' arrangements before. "But only one Boss !", I barked back at him. It was essential to get the chain of command right from the start. "Not a lot of little Bosses !" To his credit, he saw the point immediately, and when I later met 'X', he turned out to be entirely helpful and reasonable: and we got on very well from then on.

The funny thing about Thorney was that we seemed to be never there. This showed in a simple way, Mrs D. never needed to be without the car all day, for I was always at home half of two of the four days in a watch cycle, and all day off on the other two. The only onerous bit was the full night's duty every fourth night, and weekends you could forget about. And I cannot imagine a single night when I didn't get a full night's sleep in, before returning home to a leisurely breakcast in the morning sun on our balcony, with sometimes the Queen Mary or Queen Elisabeth, en route to New York, sliding down the Solent before our eyes.

And there was sun. We would never forget the neverending summer of 1959: it would prove to be the Summer of the Century, just as '62/'63 was to be remembered as the Winter of the Century. I remember spotting a "Letter to the Editor" in some page of a Gardening Section of a paper. The writer had a small espalier peach, from which he normally gathered 15-20 fruit each year. This he would remember as "The Year of the Hundred Peaches".

Goodnight again,

Danny42C.


All right for some,

Danny42C
29th Sep 2013, 00:06
There was one occasion on which old 'Mickey' was in demand. For once it was raining, or threatening to rain: the Winged Wheel was out of the question for the morning radar watch. Mrs D. wanted to go to town that morning: we arranged that we would go out to Thorney together, drop me off at the Truck, she would carry on back into Havant or Southsea and return to Thorney to pick me up at 1300. Shouldn't be a problem.

Running in past the lights, I gave the most precise navigational instructions: "You must pass the first small turning on the right, then the next two large turnings, then look out for another very small opening on the right, with a path leading to that big red-and-white thing - that's where I work. Don't forget: it's one small, two large, then a tiny narrow one - that's the one. Got it ?" She assured me that she had, turned, and off she went.

It was a normal morning in the Truck (with next to nothing happening); when you've seen one seagull blip on the tube, you've seen 'em all. As the clock got round to 1230, I thought it a good idea to make the Local Controller privy to our arrangement. He'd seen 'Mickey' often enough, could spot it coming through, and keep an eye on it.

It seems she didn't want to be late for me, so set off shortly after twelve. It would be around 1240, my relief had just come in. The handover didn't take long and we were just finishing.

The Local Squawk Box shrilled: "Get your bloody wife off the runway !!"

I grabbed cap and coat and shot out. She'd turned one corner too soon, and was now wandering around on 19, roughly abeam the Truck (she'd served in the WRNS). She could see it all right and was looking for the access track that wasn't there (it was round the corner). She didn't at first see her demented husband galloping across the 75 yards of wet grass, waving his arms and hollering, until I was running alongside the car, banging on the roof.

Happily reunited, we retired in good order. No harm done.

Short one tonight. Will make up for it with the next instalment,

Danny42C.


Seek and ye shall find.

Chugalug2
29th Sep 2013, 10:30
Wonderful story, Danny. It seems that wifely unauthorised runway incursions were by no means unknown at Thorney, witness yours and Frosty's. It reminds me of a local incident when a railway line was blocked by a car because the driver was instructed by her in car navigation to, "at the level crossing turn left", so she did

I have a bit of a "thing" about railway level crossings and the annual cost in serious accidents that they incur. I guess that airfield level crossings are similarly a problem. The solution would appear to be tunnels (a la LHR) or diversions (a la the A23 at LGW). The TI solution (reinforcing the traffic lights with barriers) didn't really do the trick as if the lights weren't activated then likely the barriers weren't anyway. They also had quite a high toll in windscreens as they slammed down without fear or favour.

BTW LGW has once again raised the threat of a new parallel runway, in which case the Mole River will lose its way if diverted yet again, never mind motorists on the A23.

Your idle salad days in the late 50s are about to be rudely interrupted, I'm afraid. Those dreadful truckies of 242 OCU are on their way; so noisy, so demanding. Thank goodness at least that their night flying will not be tolerated by the local retired Admirals!

Danny42C
29th Sep 2013, 15:53
Chugalug,

It would seem that we got out of Thorney just in time (for I was short-toured and away in early '60), and so our idyll on the Hampshire Riviera was not ended by those big, noisy, dangerous things of yours ! (Let's hear it for the Admirals). Interesting too, that the A23 went as far as LGW, for it was also the coast road where I had my duel with death on the runaway bike !

'Tis all too true that motor vehicles and aircraft do not mix at all well (or MVs with one another come to that, as a horror story - coming shortly - will attest). As you say, complete separation is the answer, but apt to be expensive. I am sorry about the Mole River (that surely must be the one where the immortal "Ratty", Mole and their friends live), but I suppose it'll have to take its chance in the scheme of things.

All forms of barrier fail in the face of the old adage: "There is no such thing as a foolproof system - you only breed a new kind of fool".

Danny.

clicker
29th Sep 2013, 16:32
I remember that level crossing incident as I was on duty in the police control on the shift after it happening.

Didn't get a handover from the previous controller but a comment of "You should read serial 1234, stupid female driver, the road and line still closed".

That said I saw a newspaper that showed a similar incident in Hampshire. I still have to wonder how the driver managed to get as far as she did when you see how the car ended up.

Pensioner takes wrong turn at level crossing and drive 50 yards along TRAIN TRACK | Mail Online (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2092522/Pensioner-takes-wrong-turn-level-crossing-drive-50-yards-TRAIN-TRACK.html)

Pom Pax
29th Sep 2013, 18:25
It seems West Thorney is correct.
Now part of Southbourne Benefice, St Nicholas was originally in the Parish of West Thorney to distinguish it from East Thorney in Selsey, now almost entirely lost in the sea.
St Nicholas, West Thorney / Thorney Island - West Sussex | Diocese of Chichester (http://www.achurchnearyou.com/west-thorney-st-nicholas-west-sussex/)
Remember the Church predates the R.A.F. by over 800 years.

pzu
29th Sep 2013, 19:38
Am involved with a F/book page re 31/34 Sqd SAAF, a photo just posted of a possible Belgian (Congo) pilot attached to 31

In response had this link posted re Belgians training/joining SAAF

BAF South Africa on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/72800337#)

PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)

Chugalug2
30th Sep 2013, 09:36
Danny, the oldest reference that I have to hand is the AA Illustrated Road Book of England and Wales, Fourth edition pub 1966. It shows the coast road twixt Hayling and Emsworth as the A27, as it remains to this day, similarly as does the London to Brighton A23. Reluctant as I am to suggest such a thing, has the memory perhaps very untypically played up this time?

Pom Pax, you are absolutely right, Sir. The same tome clearly identifies the "settlement" on the east side of Thorney Island as West Thorney. I can only claim in mitigation that it was never referred to as "East" or "West" Thorney within RAF Thorney Island, but merely as the Officers Mess, Sailing Club, Church, or whatever. In calling it "East Thorney" I was of course referring to its geographical location rather than its given name. There, that's me off the hook now, isn't it?... Isn't it?

Danny42C
30th Sep 2013, 15:36
Chugalug and Pom Pax.

Touché ! In sackcloth and ashes - again ! Consulting my last two Road Atlases (one AA 2000 and a Philips 2004), I find that you are absolutely right, and I entirely wrong. (Anno Domini strikes once more, I fear).

Danny.

Danny42C
30th Sep 2013, 22:19
The next runway incursion was rather more serious, but at least we'd nothing to do with it. There was this Junior Technician - name forgotten. He was a keen motorcyclist - nothing strange about that. Much of his spare time was spent tinkering with his beloved bike, spending hours making adjustments to the manufacturer's settings in the tenuous hope of screwing a few more rpm out of the thing.

He was a methodical young man, and had realised that, if he were to make any headway at all, it was necessary to test each individual change before proceeding with the next, otherwise he'd never know where he was. So a "standard" test track would be needed, but of course these are few and far between and none on offer locally......unless ?

Because, right under his nose, was this 1750 yard strip of concrete, dead straight and smooth and not used all that much as far he could see. It would be absolutely ideal - and free. The wish is father to the thought. Of course he knew that he would never get official permission for this, but possibly he could find another way to dispense with that...?

It would obviously have to be done under cover of darkness. As observant as he was methodical, he'd noticed that, in the quiet hours of the night when there was no (air) traffic, the Tower reduced the brilliance of the runway and approach lights to the minimum (Stud 5, IIRC) to lessen the electricity bill for the hard-pressed taxpayer. Conversely, when something was expected in, or going out, the wick would be turned up to Stud 4 or even 3 in good time. He could not be taken by surprise.

He chose a coal-black night. He would wear his kit of black leathers (helmets were not yet compulsory). The bike would, of course, be black as most things on the road were in those days, and of course with no lights. He should be invisible for all practical purposes. But not inaudible; here he took a calculated risk. He had heard about the triple-glazed, sound-proofed Tower, and with no air movements the Local Controller and any Assistants up there would probably be (shall we say) somnolent. Fire and Ambulance crews would be well bedded down.

And in any case revellers coming back to camp late through the Deeps from the bright lights of the mainland would often have a "burn up" down the lonely road: a bike wound up to the "blue note" was a common enough noise. And we all know how difficult it is to judge the direction of sound when you cannot see the source. The only remaining hazard was the road crossing. Of course the lights were simply left on green all night when there was no air movement, but headlamp beams would be visible 200 yards and more from either side of the runway.

Yet, then as now, there are always some who are convinced that they are in some way saving money by running on sidelights alone. And one such was abroad that night. It was an airman in an old pre-war "Perpendicular Gothic" Ford 8 ('Y' model). In those days "sidelights" were tiny coffee-cup sized parabolic things, stuck on the front wings, with a 5W bulb inside and "dim as a Toc-H lamp" (even when the glass was clean, and these were filthy). He was coming back from Emsworth and would soon be in his nice warm bunk. His car would be completely invisible from the side.

I'm told that the impact raised a bang comparable to the explosion of a 500lb bomb. The Ford took the blow on the back end. It spun the car round 180, but it didn't go over. Aghast, the shaking driver got out, thinking that he'd been struck by an aircraft and fully expecting to see bits and pieces of debris and casualties all over the place. But all was dark and silent as before. Scouting round he came across the back end of a bike lying some 30 feet away (the front just crunched-up scrap). It was clearly a write-off, as was his car, for the back wheel and axle had been pushed about a foot out of alignment. And the tank had sprung a leak, there was a pool of petrol forming underneath.

Suddenly remembering that he was on 3Party/F/T, he patted his pockets desperately in search of a match, but in vain (in any case, the Insurers would only have paid out market value - £10 top whack - but even that would be better than nothing).

Then from the darkness towards the sea came sounds of loud lamentation. At the same time, Local Control and Crash Crews had been jerked into wakefulness by the bang. Crash 1 had moved out and switched on its two searchlights. Almost the first sweep illuminated the sad scene.

The J/T had travelled several hundred feet along the runway, touching down on quite a low trajectory, and the friction had torn off the lower half of his leathers and removed a considerable amount of skin. He was bleeding like a stuck pig: it would be a long time before he could sit down in comfort, and he was being quite vocal about it. At the other end he had one or two broken bones and some spinal injury. The ambulance was on the spot at once, loaded him aboard, and plugged-in a good dose of morphia to quieten him down. It was clearly far more than a SSQ job; they whisked him straight off to hospital on the mainland. Crash crew dragged the wreckage off onto the grass to await collection by a scrap merchant, swept the area clean and all went back to their bunks. Job done ?....Well no, not quite.

The local constabulary got wind of this, and bristled. The accident had taken place on a public road, persons had been injured and property damaged. The Road Traffic Acts required that it should have been reported to them, and we had not done so. To this the RAF retorted with equal vigour that it was on a RAF airfield runway, and you can't get more "military" than that; therefore it was their business alone. At one stage it looked like "pistols for two and a coffin for one" for the Chief Constable and Station Commander, but somehow ruffled feathers were smoothed, and it didn't quite come to that. A number of tickets were purchased for the forthcoming Police Ball.

And all this is supposed to have happened before I came, and I cannot vouch for a single word of it.

Goodnight, all.

Danny42C.


Things that go Bump in the Night.

Chugalug2
1st Oct 2013, 07:32
all this is supposed to have happened before I came, and I cannot vouch for a single word of it.

Sounds rather like those gabbled radio commercials that, having beguiled you with the sunny uplands within reach if one simply accepts the financial product that is being offered, hastily reminds you that your home is at risk if it rains instead. :)
Vouch away, Danny, for you are adding daily to the rich tapestry that is the real history of the RAF. Forget the deliberations in the corridors of power, it was life at Station level that was the reality and where the soul of the Service resided.

Reader123
1st Oct 2013, 08:53
"And all this is supposed to have happened before I came, and I cannot vouch for a single word of it."

Anything read on the internet is best treated with a generous pinch of salt... though when it comes to forces tales, truth is often stranger than fiction.

I do hope that the motorcyclist's insurance paid out for the Ford.

Xercules
2nd Oct 2013, 13:59
No contribution to make except to put it back on p1 where it truly belongs.

Danny42C
2nd Oct 2013, 14:21
Xercules,

Never was truer word spoken ! Logging-in two minutes ago, I ran down P.1 - nothing. P.2 - likewise. P.3 (with mounting horror) - nix !

Thought: "ah, well, Moderator's binned us at last - it was good while it lasted".

Last throw of the dice: check P.1 to see if I've missed anything. And there you were, loud and clear ! You came in at 59 past the hour, I must have looked a few milliseconds later, exactly as PPRuNe's billposter was pasting it up.

Nonagarian recovers from incipient cardiac arrest !

Danny.

Danny42C
2nd Oct 2013, 17:34
It seems that the Navy decided to extend the hand of friendship to these light-blue people come among them. HMS Vernon was selected to invite a small number (three or four, IIRC) at a time from Thorney, for a day's instructional "course" on torpedoes ! As we knew nothing (and had absolutely no need to know anything) about these, it is hard to resist the conclusion that this was just a "jolly", but no less welcome for all that.

Shortly after our arrival at Thorney, I was detailed as one of the first groups nominated for this, and went over to Portsmouth, as advised, in battledress. In the morning they told us all about the fearful things, but the little I recall is that they come in two sizes (18 and 21 inch dia) and hydrogen-peroxide torpedoes are a Bad Idea, and that shoehorning any kind into the subs is a tricky business.

Lunch in the Wardroom was a pleasant affair. The grub was fair enough, but what took my eye was the little lectern-thing provided at each table place. On this you could prop the (folded) newspaper of your choice, and read while enjoying your lunch in comfort at the same time. This struck me as a most civilised and agreeable idea.

The gilt on the gingerbread came after lunch: a trip round the bay in a submarine ! For this task they had selected an "S" Class 'boat', the "Subtle" . I gathered that she was an old vessel eking out her last days on odd jobs. Our Captain was a mere Lieutenant, and I think he had a Sub-Lieut and just a skeleton crew. We embarked rather apprehensively; but all managed to get aboard without disgracing ourselves by falling into the harbour or down any ladders.

First we were assembled together for a short instruction on the use of the Davis Escape Apparatus (gulp), and then the noisy diesels cranked up and there was much smoke and a lot of "Let go forrard" and "Let go aft" business familiar to everybody from the films. We had now been marshalled up to the conning-tower to see how things were done.

He didn't hit anything on the way out (although some ships did seem a trifle close), and soon we were chugging along, making for the open sea (Solent, actually). On the way, all hands not needed to work the ship (two men and a boy ?) were mustered on the foredeck for a touching little ceremony probably unchanged since Nelson's day.

At the top of a large bluff was a signal station: we would pass quite close under this. As we neared the spot, someone blew a whistle *, the troops came to attention, our Ensign was dipped, the Captain saluted: we all saluted, as clearly it was the thing to do. Far above us, a great Ensign slowly dipped and rose in acknowledgement. Obviously we were "booking-out". This procedure was repeated on the way back, so that a hue and cry could be raised if we didn't turn up on time.

And then we were running in open waters with the land receding behind us.

As this is rather a long story, I have chopped it into two, this is the natural break, the rest tomorrow - with luck.

* (tongue-in-cheek to tease Union Jack - of course I know it's the Boatswine's Pipe !)

Evenin', chaps,

Danny42C.


Sun's over the yardarm !

Union Jack
2nd Oct 2013, 23:54
Tongue-in-cheek to tease Union Jack - of course I know it's the Boatswine's Pipe!

Tease away, Danny:ok: Someone who can switch so smartly (and subtly....) from "tales of the tower" to spinning salty yarns is perfectly at liberty to describe a bosun's call anything they like as far as I am concerned!:)

Standing by to stand by for Chapter 2 - I'm just hoping that you didn't "get your own back" - in the heads I mean!:ooh:

Jack

Danny42C
3rd Oct 2013, 16:38
Union Jack,

You must be positively psychic ! How did you guess ? (See my few words on the "Heads" below - your comment now takes on a double entendre, too !)..D

*******************************

Part II

When the skipper reckoned that there was sufficient water below the keel to allow it, the diesels were stopped, electric drive took over the propulsion, all the hatches were closed and we went under. But not very far: naturally we were always at periscope depth in those congested waters. Then we were split up into individuals for a guided tour of the vessel.

We were shown the rating's bunk space; if you kept a dog in such conditions the RSPCA wpuld be after you. Then we saw the Wardroom; I've seen bigger wardrobes: if you got three officers in there at once you wouldn't be able to close the door. The engine room was dominated by the massive diesel engines and what little space was left was mostly filled by a black-bearded giant of an Engine-Room Artificer who might have walked straight out of the "Victory". We only had a cursory look at the torpedo compartments as of course there were none of the things aboard.

Most interesting were the loos ("Heads" in naval parlance). Behind the doors was painted a list of "Instructions for Use", which really meant "Instructions for Flush". You were well advised to read these most carefully. Offhand, you had to close Valve 'A' and open Tap 'B', then work handle 'C', then do something else with 'D' - the list went on and on. And if you got it wrong, you could let in the Solent and sink the submarine. We decided it might be better to be anti-social and leave the job to the next man, who hopefully might be practised in the art.

High point was your time in the Control Room. They let us have a go at steering the ship, this was done by reference to a little panel Directional Gyro very similar to the DGs in all the aircraft of the period. It seemed simple enough, although you had to wait a bit between turning the wheel and seeing a result. But we were allowed nowhere near the "elevators" - diving planes - for obvious reasons !

Meanwhile our Captain, resplendent in the white woolly roll-neck of his profession, navigated the ship. This was done by visual bearings, and again we were charmed by the centuries-old routine. It went like this:.."Up Periscope"...(scouts around for suitable landmark)..."Ship's Head !"..."Ship's Head, Sir"......"NOW !"....."123, Sir"..(or whatever)...."Down Periscope" Skipper reads off from compass rose engraved on a ring round periscope...notes time, does simple sum, plots position line on chart..."Up Periscope"...(finds another mark). And so on. I suppose Columbus worked this way in his home waters.

As the rotation system allowed only one of us in the Control Room at a time, they were able to play their favourite Practical Joke on us all individually:
Skipper looks around till he spots some slow little tug, coaster or fishing boat, heading directly towards us, but a mile away, and no danger at all. Hands periscope over to us "Take a look". What we do not see is that, as he turns aside, he slyly works a twist-grip on one of the handles. This puts into the optics a set of 40x (?) binocular prisms, so when you look you see something the size of the "Queen Mary" bearing down on you from 100 yards away, with a huge "bone in its teeth", about to run you down in seconds. You recoil with a cry of horror: this absolutely makes their day for them. They revive you with a mug of cocoa (which seems to do the same duty in their Service as tea does in ATC).

All too soon it is time to come up and go back to home port. The conning-tower hatch is opened, the diesels start with a tremendous hiss and clatter, and down into the Control Room comes the most glorious cold, fresh, sweet sea air sucked in by the engines. We realise how stuffy it must have been - and we've only been down less than an hour. What must it be like after 12-plus hours, I do not like to think.

And that's about it. The booking-in ceremony was the same as the booking-out. We returned to our berth, bade a fond farewell to our new friends and to "Subtle", and went home. It had been quite an experience. (No, we did not get any Submarine Pay or Hard Lying Money).

That's all, folks.

Danny42C


We-All-Live-inaYellowSubmarine !

Chugalug2
4th Oct 2013, 20:53
Well at least you got to get to look around the boat, Danny, which was more than three of us did when invited for a cruise up the Rajang on the Grey Funnel line. As soon as we were onboard, following a mutual invite the night before (we get the cruise, they get a re-supply flight in exchange), we were invited to the wardroom for a welcoming drink. We never left it until the ship (a minesweeper of minute dimensions) had tied up (or is it made fast?) at the refuelling jetty which was its destination. Somehow we staggered down the gangway without falling in, and clambered into a prearranged taxi which had mercifully turned up to take us back to Kuching.
Next day there was no sign of our previous day's hosts. Some mention of urgent operational reasons, but I strongly suspect that they thought we would similarly ply them with booze (presumably between DZs).
Of course in these more enlightened days of jointery such misunderstandings are a thing of the past...

Danny42C
5th Oct 2013, 21:14
Chugalug,

You seem to have had a more jovial time with your mariners than we had with ours ! We saw no signs of spirituous liquors on board the good ship Subtle, but then, when your're running around in such close proximity to Davy Jones's Locker, I suppose that is a Good Idea.

We had to make good with Cocoa !

Danny.

Danny42C
5th Oct 2013, 23:36
:suspect:A while ago I promised you a Post on the subject of the humble mushroom, and the important place it holds in the hearts of every true air-trafficker. It was now the "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness". Most airfields, carved out of farmland well nourished by millenia of good farm manure, usually grow a succulent crop of these dainties, and all the best spots are known to ATC. This knowledge is passed from generation to generation of Local Control staff, shared by the Crash Crews and quite rightly witheld from the lesser breeds.

So it was with Thorney. As it was a Master Airfield, open 24/7/365, the Aircraft Movement Area (pretty well the whole of the grass) was permanently under ATC control; no one (in theory) could venture on it without their permission, which permission would rarely be granted. On the other hand, the ATC Landrover is always running about on it, checking lighting, Radar Markers etc. and generally looking out for anything which might damage an aircraft. GCA Truck people are a law unto themselves and are often to be seen wandering about near their Truck for reasons of their own.

Therefore ATC effectively "owned" the airfield, and every thing which grew thereon, which put them in pole position, although poaching could never be entirely eliminated. But on "ordinary" (8/5, M/F) places, things are different, when the field is closed it's a free-for-all.

But in all cases a sort of "gentleman's agreement" was observed: you picked only enough for a good meal for your family, and left the little mushrooms alone - for "little ones get bigger every day". Any attempt to gather commercial quantities was severely discouraged (and there are more means than one of discouraging people). At Thorney ATC ruled the roost.

As I've said, it was a lovely summer and autumn. All along the South coast, the holiday crowds had been thrown out of their boarding houses after breakfast with a packed lunch and strict orders not to show their faces again till teatime. They went down to the beach: the Channel glittered invitingly. Were they not part of a seafaring race ? Did not the blood of Drake, Hawkins and Ralegh run in their veins ? They blew up their rubber rings, inflatble sea-monsters and Li-Los and put to sea.

But being totally ignorant of the exisence, never mind the effects, of tides, waves, winds and currents, it was not long before they were well on the way to Brittany. And as none of them could swim a stroke, their piteous wails grew fainter until a Policeman was found (this was quite possible in those days). He pedalled furiously to the Station. "Here we go again", said the Desk Sergeant, and rang the Rescue Coordination Centre.

Then did the noble fellows of No. 22 Squadron at Thorney gird their loins and get their whirlybird going, and soon the hapless castaways were spotted and brought ashore to the bosom of their grateful families (markedly less grateful now when their rescuers refused point-blank to go back for the Li-Lo, as their next customer was already awaiting them, bobbing about a few miles down the coast).

It followed that 22 Sqdn had to be at readiness from sunup: the DIs done at first light. It seems that the DI included a mandatory airtest (is this true, anyone ?). This was done in an unusual way. It was flown slowly, about 10 feet above ground, the winchman sitting in the step of the open door, legs dangling, in what looked like a "creeping line ahead" across the grass areas.

Every minute or so it would land, winchman would hop off and pick up the cream of the night's mushroom crop, then the chopper would lift off, fly another few yards and down again. We could only look on in impotent fury as our mushrooms were being filched from us wholesale before our very eyes. (I do not doubt that HRH is aware of this strategem and may even have practised it)

An accommodation was reached with the squadron: if ATC got their fair share (ie enough for all ranks in the Tower plus GCA, Crash and ambulance crews), then we would not kick up too mucn of a fuss about what we strongly suspected to be bogus "mandatory" Airtests (or was it just our nasty suspicious natures ?).

Once more, a Very Good night to you all,

Danny42C.


The Race is to the Swift.

Pom Pax
6th Oct 2013, 08:58
Johnny Onions beret was the was the working head wear in the immediate period prior to Danny's visit to sunny TI. This was favoured bag mushrooms for the collecting of, probably could contain 2 lbs per landing. The crews of 22 Squadron seemed to have the airfield pretty well mapped out, first a quick forage round the area where Danny's set up would later be, then north across the public road to conduct the "creeping line ahead" search and finally a quick dart across to the northern boundary.
Us u/t navs believed the story of the mandatory daily airtest.
Danny I knew what this story was going to be since many months ago you hinted at mushrooms later on.:D

Union Jack
6th Oct 2013, 09:36
We saw no signs of spirituous liquors on board the good ship Subtle, but then, when you're running around in such close proximity to Davy Jones's Locker, I suppose that is a Good Idea.

I'm appalled and feel that the Silent Service owes you a belated apology, so here's a virtual large G and T or whatever else takes your fancy. Although submarine wardrooms traditionally used not to drink spirits at sea, the hard stuff will undoubtedly have been there for use in harbour.. I can still remember on my first visit to a submarine, long before I joined the dark blue, being amused by the fact that the wardroom noticeboard used the metal expanding/contracting old style bottle tops from Gordon's Gin (the very strong one) as bulldog clips.

We had to make good with Cocoa !

Er, I hope you didn't. "Ki" is what they should have given you, made from solid bars of darkish chocolate and inevitably as thick as you like.

Jack

26er
6th Oct 2013, 11:41
Re your mushroom scrumpers at Thorney, I seem to remember that at Chivenor some time in the sixties the SAR Flight had their own lobster pots in the Taw estuary. A relatively easy way to harvest the sea, but the local fishermen resented this and as many of them were RNLI, an accommodation was reached whereby they would supply sufficient lobsters to the flight if they would desist from using the Queen's aircraft to go fishing. It was also the case that part of the HSE course (Hunter Simulator and Emergencies) was to be thrown off the lifeboat in Bideford Bay and after a suitable time to allow one to become soaked with cold sea and sea sick from being in a bobbing dinghy - immersion suits of those days were not very waterproof - along came the chopper to winch up the brave Hunter pilots and fly them back to base.

The other trick they had was to have several airman who volunteered for "wet winching", one of the requirements demanded was that that they were teetotal as the M.O. authorised a generous tot of rum for each survivor so the flight were able to acquire a regular supply.

Chugalug2
6th Oct 2013, 12:05
Union Jack, you must forgive my fellow crab. and indeed me, for any offence that may be inadvertently inflicted by our woeful ignorance of the customs of the Senior Service. For myself, it goes back as far as my earliest Service memories.

I was still a schoolboy in the RAF section of the CCF when, with a colleague, I was despatched to a Summer Camp at RNAS Culdrose. In vain did we try to meld in but, as the only two light blues in a mass of dark ones, it was in vain.

Infuriated PO DIs tried their best to synchronise our movements with the RN cadets to the order, "Off", pause, 2, 3, "Caps!", but berets have a life of their own at such times, more so even with the inevitable, "On", pause, 2, 3, "Caps". We were their despair and the inter-Service gulf, no doubt the very reason for our presence, merely widened further.

I remember varied, and for the most part unintelligible, "Pipes" on the PA system, all commencing with a "Do you hear there?". Given the numerous loud speakers, all of obviously high wattage, one had no opportunity but to, yet remained none the wiser.

The ultimate weird thing was however not being allowed to stroll down to the local village chippy, requiring one to be merely reasonably properly attired to exit RAF Station gates, without not only being similarly open to such scrutiny but also to mill around until sufficient numbers had amassed to fill up a "Jolly" boat, of which of course there was no sign.

In fairness I must admit to a similar bewilderment by the RN when, for whatever the reason, they are participants in RAF ceremonial. I believe that the "Telling Off by Squadrons" when on parade has been labelled by them, with some justification, as "Are you there, Moriarty?".

It all goes to show that we are very different, and not even united by a common language. Long may it remain so! :ok:

Wander00
6th Oct 2013, 14:01
Chug, remember it well . RAF section CCF cadet and went on RN Section "Aviation" course at Culdrose. Great week, flew in the Sycamore, had a trip in an MFV from Falmouth to Fowey (and I still cannot stand tea with evaporated milk). Must have been about 1960. Got my own back when we joined up with the RN when we formed 360 in 1966.

Fareastdriver
6th Oct 2013, 18:38
Being a bit picky, the RN did not operate Sycamores. It could have possibly been an example of the other airborne mass of useless pandemonium, the Dragonfly.

Wander00
6th Oct 2013, 19:21
FED - how right you - got my names mixed up. Thanks for the correction

clicker
6th Oct 2013, 19:43
Talking about RN tales, one of my favorites was from one of my best remembered teachers at school who had been in Burma during WWII.

He was an officer with the Gurka's, of whom he was very proud and pleased that he spent some time with a very loyal bunch of soldiers.

He told us lads, one day in a boring maths lesson, of the time he got a weeks leave and decided he would hitch a ride on a naval gunboat to the local city. It was a nice sunny day so he was treated quite well with wardroom drinks on deck watching the world go by.

At this point a tannoy came "Foo, foo...Foo foo, that is all" at which point the RN lads ducked below decks and shut all the hatches leaving himself and one other Army officer puzzled on deck as they were well behind enemy lines.

Then they noticed coming the other way a line of barges towed by a small vessel. Oh dear these barges were filled with buffalo dung ready for the paddy fields etc and with the temp during the day there were also millions of flies etc.

Appears no-one went near these two officers for some time and they belongings joined them on deck as they were no longer permitted to go below decks for the rest of the trip.

In was a great pleasure a few years ago to be chatting to a member of staff at the Watercress Line only to find out he was George's son. That brought back a few school memories and tales but also a shame to find out George had been a victim of the big C a few years previous.

smujsmith
6th Oct 2013, 20:21
Sorry to pop in "mid flow" chaps,

Has anyone else seen this story today.

Back where he belongs! 90-year-old pilot who flew in World War Two returns to the skies in Tiger Moth biplane like one he learnt to fly in | Mail Online (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2446631/Back-belongs-90-year-old-pilot-flew-World-War-Two-returns-skies-Tiger-Moth-biplane-like-learnt-fly-in.html)

He is definitely of your era Danny, but trained in Canada in 1942. Perhaps you may know or have heard of him. Seems keen.

Smudge :ok:

Danny42C
7th Oct 2013, 01:12
Pom Pax,

I can confirm your observation that the area later selected as the TI GCA truck site was a prime hunting ground, and as it was manned 24/7, in the mushroom season, a chap would go out as soon as activity was detected over at the 22 Sqdn flight line. In this way their knavish tricks could be frustrated - at least on our little patch !

As for the mandatory (?) airtest, hasn't it all gone quiet ? We've got plenty of chopper experts on board. Come on, chaps, "tell the truth and shame the Devil" (they can't nail you now - or stop your pension !)....D.


Union Jack,

I gained the impression that Subtle was no longer "on active service", but more some sort of a 'hack' used only for odd-jobs (taking 'crabs' round the bay, for example), and therefore unlikely to have a regular crew or a well-stocked wardroom. And I must admit that the cocoa did seem a bit strong, now I come to think of it !

I once heard a tale about a sub skipper who was very impressed by the ability of the rating, who brought up his (the skipper's) cocoa (Ki ?), to climb the ladder to the conning tower with a brimming mug without spilling a drop. He enquired how this was achieved.

"Well, Sir", was the reply, "I take a full mouthful at the bottom, and then at the top....."

(Apologies if you've heard it before). And you mean there was actually room for a noticeboard in the sub wardroom ?.......D.


26er,

I must say, I've heard of most things, but lobsters are a new one on me! How was it done ? I assume that they'd a boat (hopefully not a Bomb Scow) to service the "Walrus" or whatever, and it picked up/dropped off the pots en route to the moorings.

The teetotal "volunteers" must have been very public-sprited citizens indeed. What was the quid pro quo ?......D.


Chugalug and Wander00,

The difficulties inherent in learning two systems of foot (and arms) drills are all too vivid in my memory. (US Army late'41 and early'42 on top of British early'41). Recollection is painful ! "Take a brace, Mister !" ....D.


Wander00 : your "still cannot stand tea with evaporated milk" Try it (the milk) with gin ! (one of my Posts of long ago, where we were stuck for the night in a train compartment, climbing the Bolan Pass into Quetta, and had the last of the gin left, but nothing to go with it except condensed milk) ......D.


Fareastdriver,

I think 22 Sqdn had Whirlwinds at TI in my day......D.


clicker,

Ouch ! Terribly bad form to abandon your guests to their fate, dont'cher know ? Not in the best traditions of the Service ! (Union Jack ?)......D.


Smudge,

"Sorry to pop in", forsooth. You pop-in for all you're worth - and that's an order !

Fred Lamprey. What can I say ? GET HIM IN HERE, WHERE HE BELONGS ! Anyone have a contact we could follow ? ....D.

Whew ! Caught up at last ! This is what this Thread's all about. Keep it rolling !

Goodnight, all,

Danny.

Chugalug2
7th Oct 2013, 10:49
clicker, being a British Army officer leading Gurkhas has always been considered to be a great honour and privilege, but not without its little inconveniences. The isolation enforced upon your ex-teacher was by no means unique. One of the Cranwell War Studies team in the 60's, a British Army Major, recounted his experiences to us of being a young Gurkha platoon commander in Burma in WW2.

Every day he would receive a sitrep by radio regarding the likely Japanese positions. He made his dispositions accordingly, instructing his Havildar and Naiks upon that night's assault. Having ensured that they fully understood his instructions regarding the Bren giving covering fire, the main assault, and the secondary one, his men would then reportedly dig a trench, and place their Commanding Officer in it, securing him lest he should unwisely decide to join the fray. The planned assault would then go ahead, the position taken, secured, and then, and only then, would one of them be sent to release him to join his command once more.

Their logic was faultless so he told us, for only he could understand the radio and thus secure the information required for that next night's work... well that was his story, and it was he who told it to we young and eager RAF Flight Cadets, so it must be true, mustn't it?

Danny, your description of the Great Mushroom Wars of the 50's has come as a great revelation and, I might add, some surprise. I had no idea of the extent nor ruthlessness with which they were fought. Given the nature of such struggles, no doubt local war lords emerged to control large areas of particularly fertile production, taking over the numerous airfields of East Anglia and the East Riding, for example. Perhaps the closure of many of these RAF Stations, stemming from this time, was in reality the only way that the authorities could curb their evil influence? In any event I will view Air Traffickers in a different way in future and accord them the respect they deserve, lest they should make me an offer that I cannot refuse!

ricardian
7th Oct 2013, 13:30
Not mushrooms but lobsters - posted to 3 MHU RAuxAF at RAF Mountbatten our HQ was adjacent to the pier. At spring and autumn low tides the Royal Marines came in their inflatable dinghies to collect the lobsters that lived in the nooks & crannies of the pier's foundations.

MPN11
7th Oct 2013, 18:07
Danny, mon vieux ... IIRC, the prime area at Strubby for mushrooms was in the angle between 09 and 03, about 200 yards towards the Tower. On a good day the 18"-24" monsters were visible from Local without the need for binoculars. The 'button' mushrooms were only about 6"-10" and thus harder to spot ;)

I may find a suitable moment to chip in on my brief time in the RN, driving small floating objects and dismally failing to become a FAA pilot. Navigating around the Solent using Decca and radar possibly helped my subsequent career in Flying Prevention :cool:

smujsmith
7th Oct 2013, 19:12
Danny,

I've sent an E Mail to the DM in the hope they can contact Flt Lt Jack Lamprey, I've linked this thread in my E Mail and hope that if he's "on line" like yourself they will refer him to it. I will let you know if I hear back from them. I'm sure he would have some stories from Canadian training etc. all the best.

Smudge:ok:

Danny42C
8th Oct 2013, 00:34
Chugalug,

"Ko hai, Sahib !"

I don't think your Gurkhas were unduly solicitous of the welfare of their Sahib. Rather they realised that the success of the night's operation depended on their stealthy approach through the jungle, whereas if he were with them, it would be much the same as having a bull elephant crashing through the foliage, alerting every living thing within five miles.

"A sitrep by radio regarding the likely Japanese positions". How well do I remember them, carefully chinagraphed in on a map overlay on an easel by our ALO at each briefing. Everyone played along with him, although all knew that (a) we had no idea where the Jap was, in fact (b) the Jap probably had very little idea where he was, either. The situation on the ground in Burma was (generally) best described as "fluid".

Post-war, I'm afraid most of the most prolific mushroom grounds soon reverted to the farmland from which they'd been taken (although I believe that pillboxes and air raid shelters were used for small-scale mushroom growers, as being dark and damp, and too much trouble to demolish).

It does my old heart good to hear that someone holds Air Traffickers in respect - if not with affection ! Never mind: "oderint dum metuant" (let them hate provided that they fear), the motto of Caligula and his ilk....D.

ricardian,

Seems like a sensible use of resources, but carried a risk, as the century-old Victorian iron pillars of these old piers would be so corroded that it was only by the lobsters holding claws that they remained upright !......D.

MPN11

"Ah yes, I remember it well !" I'm not sure they were that big (I take it that you're a keen fisherman, and this is akin to the ever-extendable salmon that got away !) But they certainly were huge: we called them "horse mushrooms".

We're all looking forward to your story of your time with the "fishheads" (sorry, Jack, but you did bring in "crabs" - no offence taken !) Never thought much of the idea of landing an aircraft on the roof of a boat myself, anyhow...Ancien Grognard (aka) D.

Smudge,

Thanks ! Go ahead. Let's have the red carpet ready ....D

Goodnight to you all, Danny.

Yamagata ken
8th Oct 2013, 07:51
Danny: "The situation on the ground in Burma was (generally) best described as "fluid"."

"To describe the situation as "fluid" is to give it too-great a sense of cohesion"

Danny42C
9th Oct 2013, 14:28
Yamagata ken,

I think you've stunned 'em all into silence with your gnomic utterance ! But I see your point - the ground war in Burma was (in the early stages anyway) largely a game of blind man's bluff, where your enemy had the nasty habit of popping up behind you when least expected.

Danny.

Danny42C
9th Oct 2013, 20:52
A Lockheed T-33 flew in one day. Nothing strange about that. What raised the hairs on the back of my neck for a split second were the Gothic black crosses on the sides. I know we were all pals again by then, but the "Biggles" in me came to the fore for a moment or two .

And a (F1) Gnat, bearing an Indian AF green-and-brown roundel (flown by an IAF pilot with the engaging name of Flt.Lt. Pal) transited through on its way home. It was the first aircraft I'd seen in those colours, all the others had been in the wartime blue-and-white of SEAC.

As a change from the monotony, one night in autumn, a small party (6-8) of ornithologists from a local scientific society, having heard of the magic of radar, had approached Air Ministry to ask if it might be possible to have a look at waterfowl activity by night, as the migration season was almost upon us, and the whole surrounding littoral was one vast seabird sanctuary).

There was no security angle to bother about; the CPN-4 was a well known civil and military airfield radar, it was not like asking for a conducted tour of Fylingdales. Adastral House graciously consented, the Station Commander had no objection, and it was laid on. I was on radar watch in the CPN-4 that night; we got the three consoles working so that they could all have a good look, while I did the running commentary from behind .

The weather had done us proud - clear as crystal. The birds looked up and thought so, too. They got airborne in their thousands and headed south over the Channel. I put MTI out to 10 miles, and the "twitchers" were fascinated by the mile-long skeins of geese, and the less organised formations of other birds. When some instinct said "Now", the birds would leave the ground all together and the flock would expand for all the world like the time-lapse photography of an opening flower.

I had seen it all before many times, but that night there was a "first" for me, too. One of them asked "what's that ?" I looked and was at first lost for an answer. For very faintly, about 50 miles south, a large formless return was beginning to appear, half way out over the Channel, where there is nothing at all but sea.

Radar "ghosts" were nothing new, but these are small and transient, and usually self-generated in the equipment. I watched nervously as this thing slowly took shape - whatever it was, it must be enormous. At last it condensed into a stretch of coastline (where there is no coast). Gradually it extended southward and I suddenly recognised the outlines of the top of the Cotentin peninsula ! But this was 120 miles South, almost double my maximum range. I realised that I was seeing something for the first time which I'd only read about in textbooks - "Skip Distance".

A huge 'high' was stationary over the area, an inversion had developed over the Channel, and my radar pulses were being refracted round under it and returning to me one pulse 'out of phase' (late). Radar is normally line-of-sight, now it was interpreting these late returns as roughly half-distance. My audience and I watched this for some time until it slowly faded away: our guest were greatly impressed, and left highly satisfied with their evening's outing.

Momentous news next time, so put your orders in at your Newsagent.

'Night, all,

Danny 42C.


Things are not always what they seem.

clicker
9th Oct 2013, 22:28
Going back to mushrooms, I seem to remember when I did an Air Cadets nav course at Finningley of seeing a safety film where it was done in the form of time lapse. It was a Dominie taxiing out to the runway with a small inspection door open which was seen by an RAF snowdrop on his bike, complete with shopping basket, collecting mushrooms. Made me chuckle at the time.

Danny42C
10th Oct 2013, 14:50
clicker,

You mean this joker was swanning around on the Movement Area with flying in progress ? And what's a RAF Snowdrop ? (serious question). Only snowdrops I remember were USAF police, but things may have changed since my day.

Feller would've got 14 days CB from me !

More importantly, what did he do when he saw the Dominie with bits hanging off ?

Cheers, Danny.

ricardian
10th Oct 2013, 16:29
Danny42C said Seems like a sensible use of resources, but carried a risk, as the century-old Victorian iron pillars of these old piers would be so corroded that it was only by the lobsters holding claws that they remained upright !.
Not a pier but a stone-built jetty. (http://goo.gl/maps/7MfEi) Nearly all traces of RAF Mountbatten have long since disappeared, including Breakwater House where I was located (3 MHU RAuxAF) 1970-73.

clicker
10th Oct 2013, 18:07
Danny,

Yes he was an RAF policeman, perhaps my mistake but when I was young I was told that was the nickname for them because of the white hats.

He cycled on the grass waving his arm, keeping the other to steer his stead. until they stopped, then he pointed out the door.

All rather touch in cheek to get the message across I suppose and taking the micky out of the RAFP at the same time.

Chugalug2
10th Oct 2013, 20:24
Danny, I cannot think of a greater contrast than that of your last post with those that you posted of dive-bombing operations in Burma. Here in a nutshell is what all that sacrifice and suffering of WW2 was all about. A night of bird-watching using technology that was devised for war!
Of course it was not the end of war, it is with us still and most probably always will be, but the deliverance from an evil tyranny that threatened our nation and so many others was behind us. What better way to celebrate than to spend time twitching the age old migratory habits of geese, providing of course that their habits keep them well away from we latter day aviators!

Danny42C
10th Oct 2013, 20:25
ricardian ,

Of course ! Silly of me ! (there are more meanings than one of the word "Pier"). Never knew the place myself , but the people who had kept fond memories of it....D.

clicker,

Profoud apologies ! (another Senior Moment !) Did a bit of digging after my last dismissve post, came up with this, lifted from Wiki:

"RAF Police non-commissioned officers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-commissioned_officers) and warrant officers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warrant_officers) are noticeable by their white-topped caps (giving rise to their nickname of Snowdrops), which they have worn since 1945".

That puts me firmly in my place ! You are absolutely correct.

The Corporal expiated his crime by doing the right thing (still shouldn't have been there though). But were Local and Runway Controllers both asleep ?

Now, congratulations on your recent success in the Cap/Comp. What a wonderful pic ! What on earth had happened to the poor little beast ? (Yes, I know, but how?). Please elaborate.......D.

Regards to you both, Danny.


EDIT:

Chugalug,

(Crept up on me while I was in the throes of composition !) All very true, and exactly as you say: just another of the paradoxes seemingly inseparable from wars and their aftermaths. Swords into ploughshares, and all that

And to be fair, the geese were there first !

Danny.

papajuliet
10th Oct 2013, 21:43
Danny
I think Wiki have not told the full story. Snowdrops, as a nickname, was first known in the UK during WW2 when white helmeted US military police were seen everywhere. It was a US term.
In that time RAF police were known as SP's or Provosts.
Snowdrops is something which has transposed into our terminology in recent years and, like so many things, has been accepted as being the norm - it's revisionism.I suspect that the white topped caps weren't introduced until the late 40's or early 50's.I can't find any evidence that they were worn in WW2.Police armbands were worn and, possibly white webbing.If someone can provide photographic evidence to disprove me I'll be delighted to see it.
Sidetracking somewhat but a good example - "Butcher Bird" is another non contemporary name. Where did that come from?. It was always an FW or a 190 or a Focke-Wulf when it roamed the skies.

clicker
11th Oct 2013, 00:50
Hi Danny,

No need to apologise. Memory is a wonderful thing a times. Now where did I leave my glasses?

Oh and I hate to think of how many times I've gone into a room and then forget why I went there in the first place.

Thanks re the cap/comp. To be honest no idea how it happened. I was searching the internet re some wildlife photos and came across it and though it was worth saving in case I needed one for the comp. It didn't have any caption to go with it.

BEagle
11th Oct 2013, 06:06
All rather touch in cheek to get the message across I suppose and taking the micky out of the RAFP at the same time.

The point being made was the Flight Safety is everbody's business (apart, that is, from 'Mrs Doubtfire' at MPA who allegedly wrote on some Flight Safety missive 'Not for admin wing'....:rolleyes:). The Snowdrop had spotted what he thought was an insecure panel, so stopped what he was doing to rush off and report it before the aircraft took off. It was, in fact, the 125's APU intake door and quite normal; he didn't know that but was praised for having raised his concern.

It was a good Flight Safety film - can't remember much else about it, but I can certainly remember that 'laughing policeman' and the undercranked 'Benny Hill chase effect' of him chasing the aircraft on his bike!

Blacksheep
11th Oct 2013, 12:35
Although we all knew what the "Snowdrops" our old wartime Chiefies referred to were, but they were universally called "Snoops" when I was in.

Danny42C
11th Oct 2013, 18:17
papajuliet,

I joined the RAF in Dec '40, came in in May '41, spent 5 months in UK, 6 in the US, another 7 in the UK, and 42 in Burma and India. In all that time, I never heard the term "Snowdrops" applied to the RAF Police, although we were perfectly aware of its use in the US forces. Nor do I remember seeing any white tops.

And I don't remember hearing of "Butcher Bird" as a name for the FW190.....D.

clicker,

Ah, the infirmities of age :confused: What a pity we don't have the story of the poor weeping little elephant. (It'd make my eyes water, too). Anybody ?

At judging time on the Cap/Comp, you must exclude my entries from the field, otherwise you'll be (wrongly, of course) suspected of undue influence from the nice things I've said about the pic.....D

BEagle,

Well done, that man ! But: : "so stopped what he was doing" - Mushroom gathering, by all accounts ?

And I've been under the impression that it was a DH "Dominie" with cabin door open (Start-up checks ?)......D.

Blacksheep,

I think the term "Snoops" referred to the SIB, rather than the uniformed branch....D.

Cheers to you all, Danny.

Al R
11th Oct 2013, 22:11
Danny,

I enjoy your thoughtful and measured contributions, thank you.

Perhaps you might like to comment on this.. is it as you might remember it?

World War Two Radio Chatter- Lancaster Crew - YouTube

Danny42C
11th Oct 2013, 22:27
As autumn shaded into winter, 1959 was to be our Annus Mirabilis. Our daughter Mary was born in the November; to our lives was added this whole new dimension. We were a complete family now: we both had to acquire new skills - and fast ! My share was to learn how to hold the babe without dropping her, to get a nappy on so that it would stay on (without impaling her on the nappy-pin), and deal with the inevitable bucket of used nappies.

These would be of the old towelling variety (I don't think Paddy-Pants or anything like that was on the market then); this last task was, shall we say, character-forming !

To this was added the more technical aspects: sterilising bottles, making up the formula at exactly the right temperature, and getting those diabolical teats on the top of the bottle without their pinging-off to a far corner of the lounge.

However, I must not "protest too much". In the first place, she was a little beauty. Hitherto I'd been of the opinion that all babies looked alike - (just like Winston Churchill). But ours was a stunner. When we strolled abroad with her in her beautiful white "Silver Cross" pram, all the old ladies we met would peep in and couldn't help start coochee-cooing. In return, Mary would "ham it up" shamelessly, beaming and gurgling and waving her little chubby limbs. Even "Sally", on the lead, would prance about proudly: "Look what my Master and Mistress have just got for me to play with!" - but that, of course, would be years ahead.

And to add to all these delights, she was a Good Baby. We cannot remember a single night (but there must have been some) when she knocked us up. Even so, she was a determined character, and would turn a quite alarming shade of purple with rage before breakfast or after bathtime when she considered her rations were late coming up.

Very much around this time we learned of our next (short-toured) move to be - RAF(G) ! We had, it seems, fallen on our feet a second time. One of the first thoughts which sprang to every Service mind after hearing this news was: A New Car ! These were impossibly expensive in UK during those early post war years, basically because of the enormous Purchase Tax levied on them as "luxury items." But if you ordered a British car "for export" (or naturally, bought a foreign one overseas) you escaped Purchase Tax - of course, only under very strict conditions.

Basically, both you and the car had to remain out of the UK for a minimum of two years, otherwise Purchase Tax would be charged on re-importation. As most overseas tours comfortably exceeded this period, it was generally not a problem. So now was raised the pleasant prospect of escape from the long line of moribund old bangers which had been most Servicemen's lot since the war's end.

In nearly all cases, there now started a delightful "window-shopping" time, for the market was your oyster, subject to the amount that your Bank would advance as a personal loan. It was generally reckoned that your Overseas Living Allowance (in Germany, anyway) would buy your car for you over a three-year loan period. For most, the decision "which car" ? was a difficult one. But not for us, and this leads to a turn in the story, which I will leave until next time.

With that happy announcement, I'll leave you.

Goodnight, chaps,

Danny42C


Gaudeamus Igitur - Familia Sumus !

Danny42C
11th Oct 2013, 23:12
Al R,

First, thank you for the kind words, they are much appreciated !

First of all, you must know that I have no experience in (Home) Bomber Command in general, nor of Lancasters in particular.

Second of all, what a load of old bull ! The picture of the Pilot and Engineer is obviously staged on the ground; they dressed up a couple of handsome models and sat them in.

There's no engine noise at all, the dialogue (in the purest BBC cut-glass Received English accents) is in the standard way that the lay public thought crews talked to each other (not a hint of stress in the voices !). And are they supposed to be bombing Germany by day ? (this is in broad daylight !)

I could go on and on. This is all "Boy's Own Paper" stuff, as false as a nine-dollar bill. (Good Show, Chaps !)

Cheers, Danny.

Al R
11th Oct 2013, 23:25
I thought you might say that. I was wondering if it could ever have been as measured as that, even with Received Pronounciation.

26er
12th Oct 2013, 14:23
Danny,

To remind you of when you were younger you may wish to see page 21 of the "Weekend" section of today's "The Times" describing a good walk around Thorney Island. It says it is nine miles but on the plus side it begins and ends at a pub.:)

Pom Pax
12th Oct 2013, 15:12
In Danny's day the licensing laws for the Lunch time session were 10.30 a.m. - 2.30 p.m. in Hampshire and 11.00 a.m. - 3.00 p.m. in West Sussex. The county boundary being the Emsworth Channel which was bridged by the old A 27. Now conveniently there was a pub on either side of the bridge so the citizens of Emsworth could continue their merriment with only a 50 yard stroll.
In winter with a low tide the glare off the mud flats due to the low sun was pretty bad. So on a BABS approach for 19 whilst one was saying 2 1/2 miles left left at the other end on the aircraft was a continuous "can't see a blxxdy thing" and then suddenly "there's The Royal Oak, ok Nav got it". The Royal Oak being the next pub towards Chichester (no longer exists) and conveniently on the extended centre line of 19 / 01.

Chugalug2
12th Oct 2013, 18:43
There was another Royal Oak, Pom Pax, that you might remember at Hooksway, north of Chichester off the B2141. It's still there, but in the 60s a couple had been the licensees going back to before the first world war. They held only a beer and wine licence and you needed an Ordnance Survey map to find them, but that all added to the charm of the place.
A group of us went there while attending 242OCU at Thorney. Entering the front door we were confronted by an elderly couple sitting either side of the fireside. Thinking we had stumbled into their sitting room in error, we made to apologetically leave, but they bid us enter and confirmed that it was indeed their lounge (and only) bar.
Later, other regulars joined us having been hard at work harvesting. It wasn't long before they were singing various ditties of the "I had her in my threshing machine" kind. We in turn regaled them with "Shire, Shire, Somersetshire", and other Air Force songs that were more usually performed in the Mess.
A most enjoyable evening spent many years ago. The pub is under different management now, and no doubt in the same Chicken-in-the-Basket mode as so many others these days.

Taphappy
12th Oct 2013, 21:51
AL R.
Definitely a put up job, apart from the the BBC newsreader accents and ropey intercom phraesology, notice that they are not wearing Mae Wests, rather foolhardy since they had to fly over the North Sea to reach their target.

mikehallam
13th Oct 2013, 13:34
Going back a couple of days to the RAF Police nomenclature.

I too think Snowdrops is an Americanism adopted here. Perhaps the following name became non PC with the rise of USSR's Red Menace ?

In my deferred to 21+ N.S days (59-61) they wore and therefore were simply called 'Redcaps' - as well as less attractive epithets referring to their lack of grey matter.

mike hallam.

p.s. Wiki consulted since the above. It says my lot on the main gate guard post were RAF Regiment, so my redcaps are different to your snowdrops I guess !!

BTW. M/c to the strip & flew a very light 2 seater from Sussex, via close to o/h Thorney, to the Isle of Wight yesterday for a bacon buttie. Both it & Lee-on-Solent are still active fields.

Danny42C
13th Oct 2013, 15:50
mikehallam,

The "Redcaps" were Military Police. I didn't know that our well loved "Rock Apes" had been subsumed into the Infantry to that extent, though. What next ?

D.

Danny42C
13th Oct 2013, 22:27
Niel and Amelia Ker, whom I'd last seen some nine years before, looked us up (Iris had met them only once briefly, in Mablethorpe). He'd come up to Manby, as interpreter for some visiting Russian VSOs to the Empire Flying College. Apparently the Russians were highly amused by the Lincolns, viewing them as museum pieces - Niel tried to save our faces by insinuating that we only kept a few for sentimental reasons, much like the Navy's "Victory".

He'd just bought a bungalow in Littlehampton - only a stone's throw away along the coast, having just left, or being in the process of leaving the RAF. Since last seeing him he'd completed his Habbaniya tour as a Russian R/T monitor, followed by two flying tours: the first on Swifts (he wasn't very impressed) and a second on Canberras in RAF(G) (Sqdns not known). His only tale that I remember concerned his last IRT on these.

The examiner had given him an "Unusual Position" at 25,000 ft. Niel managed to screw this up so comprehensively that their combined efforts only recovered the Canberra at 8,000, at which point they were thinking of abandoning ship. Needless to say, he did not get his I/R, this in turn would not endear him to his Sqdn C.O., but whether that influenced his decision to leave I do not know.

But the purpose of mentioning him is to introduce what he'd brought home with him. At that time, the name Peugeot was hardly known at all in Britain; when two owners met on the road they would exchange flashes of friendly recognition. I tried Niel's car (a 403): it was an absolute revelation.

To be fair, anything would have been a revelation after a 20-year old pre-war specimen which was showing its age in spite of the full mechanical overhaul that I'd given it five years earlier. "Mickey" had served us faithfully and well, I reckoned we'd put on another 50,000 miles and it must now be into six figures (an extraordinary mileage for a humdrum family saloon of the period).

But the 403 was out of this world. Never had I driven anything which rode so well, held the road so well, was so comfortable, steered so precisely and had such powerful brakes. To my mind, it would still stand comparison with today's mass-market cars. It was to be the best car of our lives. The decision was made at once: Mrs D. chose the colour (dove-grey).

Lloyd's Bank in Liverpool - I'd stayed with them since 1948 - played ball. I think the 403 came in at a basic £520 (half the UK price). To this I added £20 for a set of the very attractive wheel trims standard on the insanely overpriced ragtop (TV "Columbo" ran a shabby one of these). The RHD models had a sunshine roof, I would have liked one, too, but for some reason they were not an option on the LHD (I suppose the French reckoned the sun never shone on perfide Albion, anyway, so there would be no demand). My final extravagance was £30 for a "Coupleur Jaeger" (much more about this later, if Mr Moderator will allow).

The bill came to £570, plus a few pounds for rail freight Sochaux/La Garenne, (for I arranged to pick the car up in Paris from the Champs Élysées showroom), and a tank of petrol. Lloyds paid Peugeot (UK) Ltd in sterling, everyone was happy, my loan would (hopefully) be paid off over three years.

Now the run-down started, and the radar rest caravan became a hive of industry at night. For I had to turn my meagre woodworking skills to the task of making open-frame crates for the pram, the Hoover Twin-Tub (these would go out to Germany) and the Winged Wheel (to be stored with our things back home). Of course, when the time came, only the Wheel itself, its appurtenances, and the saddle and front wheel were crated: the old 'grid' was scrapped.

I had my trusty Black & Decker, and bought a set of "Everest" (?) wood drills (these must be somewhere in the garage still, if only I could find them). The "bit" end is flat, shaped as a silhouette of the appropriate screw size, so you take out bore, counterbore and countersink in one operation. Armed with these, about a mile of 2"x 1" planed softwood and a million No.8 screws (or at least it felt like that), the job went on apace, occasionally interrupted by some tiresome pilot wanting a GCA.

Even on the day watches, my spare time didn't go to waste, and I'll explain in my next.

Until then, Goodnight,

Danny42C.


No time to waste !

clicker
13th Oct 2013, 23:13
Danny,

You are one for bringing back some memories.

My third job at the age of 18 around 1970 was working in the stores of Peugeot's dealers in Greencoat Place near Victoria station.

The 403 was coming to the end of its life by then, being edged out in favour of the 404 but it was amazing how many were still coming to be serviced. Lost count of how many had been "round the clock" and still going strong.

While working there I also had my first brush with the law, albeit on the good side and also my one and only appearance in court. Funny that in 24 years working for the police in later years I never got a court appearance for them even thought I must have taken hundreds of emergency calls in that time.

So there I am, working in the stores, when a guy turns up with his right arm in a sling. He came in to buy quite a few spares and wanted to pay by cheque. Because of his broken arm he asked me to write out the cheque so I checked with my boss who said it was OK as long as he signed it as best he could. He also showed the boss some form of ID as a doctor.

Quite a few months later and the local plod come round. The cheque had been stolen from a car along with a few other bits and pieces including a doctors driving licence and prescription pad. The police had followed this one up because drugs had been obtained via the use of the pad.

So I'm now in court being spoken at by the defence who have just asked me what I was doing on a date just three weeks ago to which replied I could not remember.

"So if you can't remember that how can you be sure that my client visited your store on a date several months ago."

"He had his arm in a sling."

"And how can you tell this was the cheque that was passed to you on the date in question if you can't remember what you were doing three weeks ago." Said with a smug look and the client looking pleased that he had a thinking defence lawyer.

Cheque is then passed to me to look at.

"Yes I remember this cheque quite clearly, I wrote it out myself and your client signed it as best he could."

You should have seen the look on the defence's face. Clearly our tealeaf had forgotten that bit or at least not told his lawyer.

Police 1 Tealeaf 0.

Geriaviator
14th Oct 2013, 14:46
The gents (?) in the 1950 Binbrook guardroom were known as SPs. Their baleful eyes would follow us little lads as a cat watches a passing mouse. In fact I first thought their title was bluddySPs as my father so referred to them: "The bluddySPs came up to the hangar today, they say you've been playing around the Lincolns again".

As if we would try to start a Merlin. Perhaps it was just as well that the trolley-accs were too heavy for nine-year-olds to handle. :=

We knew the Snowdrops as US military police. One look at their white-painted steel helmets will show why they were so named.

Fareastdriver
14th Oct 2013, 15:54
I find it strange that you ordered a LHD Peugeot. Everyone I knew who did a tour in Germany had a RHD car so that they could flog it when they got back to the UK.

Danny42C
14th Oct 2013, 16:42
Fareastdriver,

Must be a generational thing. In my youth, LHD (left hand drive) referred to the side of the road you drove on. Not so nowadays, it would seem !

Danny.

Danny42C
14th Oct 2013, 17:33
clicker,

Small world indeed ! I know they had a HQ in Purley Way. Croydon, but didn't know of your Aladdin's Cave in Victoria. Now you'll be able to help me with all the technical details, and generally keep me on the right track. Tell me, was the Smiths - Jaeger automatic clutch popular in the UK ? To my mind, it was one of the most deserving of ideas that fell by the wayside post-war. Peugeot had it on the 403 and 404, but then went over to full autobox on the 504 (IIRC).

Roote's cars developed the magnetic particle idea into a full auto, but I heard of one catastrophic failure on the autobahn, when some sort of short engaged all the gears in the box together, and the bits of casing, oil and cogwheels stretched a kilometer across Austria !

And congratulations on your well-merited triumph in the Halls of Justice ..D.


Geriaviator,

Good thing the Merlins didn't come with a Coffman starter (like the Griffons in the Spits). Otherwise you young devils would have been up, and away !...D.

Cheers to you both, Danny.


EDIT:

A day or two ago I came across somewhere on "Military Aircrew" a link to a 90- minute film starring Ray Milland, a sort of "Private's Progress" about Cranwell - a Columbia or a Movietone thing sponsored by A.M.

Can't find it again. Help !.....D.

CoffmanStarter
14th Oct 2013, 20:57
Danny ...

Check out my thread "Want a good laugh" :ok:

Coff.

smujsmith
14th Oct 2013, 21:33
Danny,

Here's the link. A one and a half hour, definitive narrative of life at Cranwell, late 1950s.

High Flight - 1957 RAF - YouTube (http://youtu.be/8l4byhJVA8o)

Hope that helps :ok:

Smudge

Danny42C
14th Oct 2013, 22:34
Thanks, chaps (am going to enjoy this !),

Danny.

26er
15th Oct 2013, 08:25
Re "High Flight", part of this was filmed by the 2nd unit at Nicosia just after Suez. So many inconsistencies. At about 1hr11min you can see the aircraft sported Nos 1 and 34 Squadron markings. The aircraft are fitted with 2 x 100g droptanks. In the background you can see Hastings (aircraft, not town) on the skyline. I remember that the unit director, who had visions of grandeur, thought the Cypriot setting sun would make a pretty picture. They took hundreds of feet of film which was air freighted to UK but never used.

No matter, the film crew lived in the Ledra Palace Hotel with access to vast sums of company money which we brave lads helped to them to spend on wine and song. Unfortunately the "women" consisted of an old crone who must have been at least thirty and was the correspondent of the Daily Express. Nowadays I would describe her a "tasty piece".

Ah, happy days!

dogle
15th Oct 2013, 18:04
Danny, Sir! ... might I beg a great indulgence, and revert, just briefly, to the Vengeance days?

Following your description of the Vengeance's vital and mighty dive brakes, I was much engaged by your indication that these were sufficiently delicate in their operation to be put to another good - but unintended - use, when wishing to slip in swiftly on rejoining a formation.

Now, having a little in common with Smudge, I am familiar with the use of airbrakes to achieve a very precise (and highly satisfying) landing when no Motive Power is available ... if only you can see where you are going!

I was therefore tantalised for some time by 'what-if?' thoughts following your account of that unhappy day when, heading for home with zero oil pressure, you rejected a straight-in approach in favour of the customary circuit. (I recall that at one base obstructions on approach, in the form of ships in harbour, could be vexing ... brakes ever so handy in that situation? ... but I think you were perhaps not there at that point).

Eventually I convinced myself that, given the limited forward vision in the Vengeance, use of the brakes to assist with the arrival could not really have been an option, and that I was being somewhat stupid in even thinking of it.

Since then, Smudge has awakened my memory and given me a lightbulb moment - glider pilots are now, de rigeur, equipped with an expensive direct-vision panel (about 10 or 11 o'clock low) just in case they might lose canopy transparency (frosting!) when needing to land. (I never - thank goodness! - suffered the pain of needing to open that DV panel for its true purpose - did you, Smudge?). I therefore surmise that, just possibly, the dive brakes on aircraft like the Vengeance might still have saved those condemned to unplanned arrivals some measure of grief, if only people could have practised such use beforehand.

I suspect that the possibility of using brakes to assist with control of the approach never even entered the heads of Their Airships of that time, and only when chaps became faced with the intriguing problem of landing one of those new-fangled (but slowly-spooling) jets on the flat roof of a big grey floating thing (with the hope of using the aircraft again) did the penny really drop. That said, I shall be delighted if anyone can correct me .... ?

smujsmith
15th Oct 2013, 19:26
Dogle,

I once had to land back at Syerston in the middle of a downpour. An ASK18 on approach with a reasonable headwind barely shifts the drops, so a bit of side slip and visual through the "DV window" was used. Luckily I never encountered icing during my gliding time, had I done so I feel sure the same procedure would have worked. Hope that helps, looking forward to the pro power pilot Danny and why he didn't do a straight air brake controlled approach to land. I would say that there was always something about the "solid feel" of stability and control once the brakes were out, apart from the fact that you were going to land whatever, there was always, on every glider I flew, a feeling of great control with the brakes.

Smudge :ok:

Danny42C
15th Oct 2013, 19:58
I'd heard of people returning from 2½ years in Germany with just: "bitte", "danke" and "auf wiedersehen", and not much else. I resolved to set my sights higher than that. On the market at the time were small paper booklets of "Hugo's German Grammar". Each one of the series dealt only with only one aspect of the subject; they were quite cheap, and it avoided the rather intimidating effect of being faced with one weighty tome. As I've mentioned before, we were not exactly rushed off our feet in the Truck, and it did help to pass the time. Always a natural "swot", when I landed in the Bundesrepublic, I could at least make sense of signs and simple text, even if fluency would only come later.

Now I have to think hard over the question of dates. We were told of our posting around the end of November, and I sailed end of March - early April. I know we were still in Hayling at Christmas, for I remember it snowing, which was unusual down there. But the sequence of events must have been something like this:

In the New Year, it would have been nice if my famiy had been able to come out with me, but no quarters were available So my wife, our daughter Mary, and "Sally", reluctahtly had to be taken back to her Yorkshire home to await my securing accommodation for us in Germany. I still had 'Mickey', but no longer willing to trust it over winter roads for that distance, hired a Bedford "Dormobile" for the journey. Returning alone to Hayling, I did the "marching-out" at Bembridge Drive and moved into the Mess.

Now the last act would be the disposal of "Mickey". It was sadl - like selling a much-loved faithful dog - but it had to be done (and no other of our cars would have a name). A buyer wasn't all that hard to find among the nav studes (who had at least seen it running around the Station), we shook hands on £50. His cheque came back for re-presenting once or twice, but finally the ball dropped into the pocket. "Mickey" didn't owe us a thing. Right at the end, the buyer was away from Thorney for some reason, I asked one of his mates how he was getting on with it. "Well", was the reply, "it's his first car - and we think it'll be his last !"

And then I was on my way to London, Liverpool Street Station, Harwich and on the good troopship "Vienna". This rolled, groaned, shook and rattled through the night to the Hook of Holland in the morning.

Now I am going to "shoot a fox" from the years after retirement from the RAF (when of course there will be no more story - it will end when I hand my F1250 in). Fourteen years later I am earning a modest crust with H.M. Customs & Excise. My mentor was a Nigel L. He had been a Captain in REME (I think), and perked up over my mention of the "Vienna". It seems he had had a lot to do with the vessel: it had been sunk (mined ?) at least twice in the war, lifted, each time the holes plugged with concrete and been returned to service. So I suppose it was entitled to groan a bit.

He told another nice little story: Some time in the late '50s one of our tanks had got badly bogged down somewhere on the Hanoverian plain, and all efforts to get it out were failing. A road ran nearby; along came a big, glossy Mercedes and stopped to watch the fun. "Move along", growled the Warrant Officer i/c recovery party, "there's nothing to see here".

A big, glossy business man (complete with cigar) got out, and in perfect English explained that his Panzer had got stuck in this exact hole in '44. "You'll never get it out like that", said he, "This is the way we had to do it". He gave full details of the method. "Well", thought the W.O., "we're getting nowhere as it is, it's worth a try, what have we got to lose ?"

They tried it, and it worked. Two former enemies parted with expressions of
mutual esteem.

And I must squeeze another one in (and then no more). My District chief, ("Surveyor of Customs & Excise "), Jack R., turned out to have been a Sergeant in the 81st (West African) Division in Burma. All the old names came tumbling out - Maungdaw, Buthidaung, the Tunnels, the Ngaukyedouk ("Okeydoke") Pass (through the Arakan Yomas). Jack confirmed that the troops were very appreciative of the Vengeances' efforts, for it was always difficult and expensive in lives to winkle the Jap out piecemeal from his well dug-in lair: far more efficient simply to excavate the whole lot at once with four tons of HE.

H.M.C & E went out of the window for quite a while.

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


Old soldiers never die.

Danny42C
15th Oct 2013, 22:47
dogle (welcome back) and Smudge,

On the Vengeance, we used the dive brakes (apart from dives) merely to reduce speed down to circuit speed, or in case of coming up at 150 mph behind a formation trundling along at 130 mph, to avoid ramming the man in front.

Any attempt to use them at circuit or approach speed would result in an alarming loss of lift (any Meteor driver who has dropped wheels and flap, forgetting the brakes were still out, will know the effect).

In the case of a slow-flying Vengeance, it would promptly revert to "brick" mode. Not to be recommended.

As for gliders, from what little I know, the idea was to use them as "reverse throttles", so you always had a bit in hand if needed. But your airbrakes were as puling kittens in comparison with the roaring tigers of the ones on the Vengeance, designed to hold 7 tons, descending vertically under partial power, to a terminal velocity of 300 mph.

My unfortunate mishap in Burma was my own fault. Having got it into my head that all I had was an instrument failure, and nothing to worry about, I came down to circuit height (1,000 ft) instead of holding on to the 3,000 I had. This would have given me a chance of a 'dead-stick' if I got close enough to the strip, or of us going over the side if not.

As it was, I guessed wrong and still bear the scars.

The place with the harbour was Chittagong. I had my prang from some kutcha strip off in the bundoo. Can't remember a name.

Never tried opening a DV panel. Think it would be rather draughty.

Cheers, Danny

Geriaviator
16th Oct 2013, 11:49
Most or all of the aircraft I have flown have had DV panels. In the Piper Cherokee/Arrow range the panel in the P1's side window is about 6ins x 4ins and hinges downwards. I found it perfect for aerial photography using an SLR. It was also convenient for the disposal of a plastic bag when there was no convenience and the flight was 4hrs30m duration :uhoh:

dogle
16th Oct 2013, 14:27
Thank you so much, Danny, for that clarification - I was labouring under the mistaken impression that the Vengeance's dive brakes could be operated delicately at less than full whack.

Smudge - thanks, I concur of course completely on the splendid 'controllability' delivered by the hefty brakes on latter-day gliders - and indeed those of the venerable but all-too-rare K18, that's one I'd really have loved to fly. No news back from the press re. Flt Lt Lamprey?
(Has the time come for us to try and muster a Press Gang? ... I sense that he might find it amusing to be Shanghaied!).

Danny's fortuitous use of the expression "reverse throttles" enables me to slip swiftly back to the current subject ... I retain a vivid memory (from long ago, as a passenger a few minutes after departure from Heathrow) of the shaken voice of a KLM Captain announcing "I hope that you were not upset by the unusual noise - I had to use the reverse thrust to comply with a very, ah, urgent request from Air Traffic Control".

I have, ever since, been very mindful of that huge weight which rests on the shoulders of the controller.

Danny42C
16th Oct 2013, 15:44
dogle,

Your:

".....a few minutes after departure from Heathrow of the shaken voice of a KLM Captain announcing "I hope that you were not upset by the unusual noise - I had to use the reverse thrust to comply with a, ah, very urgent request from Air Traffic Control....."

OMG - is this standard operating procedure in the air? :eek:

The divebrakes can be opened partially - but not delicately ! It's hit and miss. You just get more or less of the same effect - no nose down, no loss of speed - just an enormous increase in the rate-of-descent !

Danny.

Fareastdriver
16th Oct 2013, 16:01
It was also convenient for the disposal of a plastic bag when there was no convenience and the flight was 4hrs30m duration

I once found that very useful in a Valiant approaching Nairobi after ten hours flying, having flight refuelled overhead El Adem. The DV panels were fairly thick and had handles that pulled them in and down. Young FED here opened it up and being a litterbug discarded all the leftover rations, drink cans etc out the window. As I finished it suddenly occurred to me that just by my shoulder were two Rolls Royce Avon jet engines that must have been having a late lunch.

Every thing seemed to be all right. Our crew chief had a crawl down the intakes but he could not find anything wrong and they got us back to the UK OK.

Reader123
17th Oct 2013, 12:15
"when of course there will be no more story - it will end when I hand my F1250 in."

So what are we all going to do after that? 100,000+ words over almost two years (thus far); Dickens was clearly not the last man to publish in gripping episodes, but he always had a next book! Sorry, Danny, you're going to have to come up with some more tales...

Danny42C
17th Oct 2013, 19:53
And now we have landed in the Hook of Holland. The RTO sent for me. My posting was originally to RAF Sylt, which would involve going a long way across country and almost up to the Danish border. I was now told that this posting had been cancelled - Sylt was closed for resurfacing (or something like that). Anyway, they didn't want me any more. Go on to RAFG (at JHQ Rheindahlen) for onward instructions. Get on the Military Train over there.

And so I ended up in this giant HQ, where it was clear that nobody was much concerned with me or my fate, and I didn't know a soul. After kicking my heels for a day or two, a voice called "Danny ?": I turned to see a friendly face at last. Keith Marfell, whom I'd welcomed into the Thornaby Mess on his commissioning from Warrant nine years before, and who once came to dinner with us at Mablethorpe five years later, clapped me on the shoulder. Now S/Ldr Marfell in the Secretarial Branch, he knew all the corridors of power in the place. A few well-placed phone calls, and I had my posting - Geilenkirchen (hereinafter "GK").

Hearing my story, and realising what would probably happen, he got on to the Equippers at once to stop my baggage going to Sylt - but it was too late, and it had to be re-routed back from there and turned up a fortnight or so late at GK. No matter.

They gave me an RAF "staff car" (1200 entry-level VW, used for the more menial tasks), with a German civilian driver. It was only a relatively short trip, but enough for me to see the good points of the "peoples" car". A very high top gear enabled it to bumble along the landstraßen quite leisurely at 80-90 kph without undue noise, and it was quite a popular purchase among our troops, selling at about the same as a Mini, IIRC. I tried my rudimentary German on my driver, but as his English was far superior to my efforts I didn't get very far.

GK seemed a fairly comfortable place. The Mess rooms were in centrally heated "huts", larger and much superior to the Secos. The Mess itself was a roomy single-storey affair, food was good and in the bar I quickly learned to ask for a "point-two" or a "point-five" of DAB (Dortmunder Aktien Bier) - and never was beer more aptly named - rather than a "half" or a "pint".

ATC was in the middle of a long single-story terrace of offices parallel with, and quite close to the taxi track. A Local control glass-house was mounted on the top. Approach down below just had a CA/DF, IIRC. On the field was a CPN-4, trained on 27 (no subsidiary runways).

In this I expected a nice quiet life, as at Thorney, but had a rude awakening. Instead of tapping into the mains , and feeding it through a rotary converter, power was supplied from a diesel generator. Now a CPN-4 takes a fair amount of power, so it has to be a powerful diesel. And this one was air-cooled . You can imagine the row: outside the Truck you could hardly hear yourself speak, and it was not much better inside. I think the maker was called something sounding like "bow-sher". EDIT (at end of Post)

Of course, it was obvious when you think about it. Although the CPN-4s at home were semi-permanent fixtures, there was every possibility that, in the event of hostilities, ours would have to up-stakes and follow the squadrons to whatever new home they pitched up in. By the same token, they would need their own independent power source with them.

The "lodger units" were 11 Sqdn (Javelin), C.O.: W/Cdr Cro(w)shaw (also Chief Gliding Instructor), and 3 Sqdn (Canberra). The Station Commander was G/Capt Peter Le Cheminant, and that's all the names I can remember. My very pleasant SATCO ran a beautiful pale blue 220S Merc., but his name's gone.

AFAIK, we were manned to Master Airfield level - for the opposition weren't going to send you a postcard to let you know they were coming - but those living in MQs could stand-by at home on the understanding that they could be in position in five minutes. Those living out kept a room in the Mess for the purpose. There were frequent "tacevals", "maxivals" and "minivals" to make sure the system worked.

Goodnight once more, chaps,

Danny42C

EDIT: (came to me out of the blue from nowhere ages later). It was BAUCEM, I'm sure, but looking it up the best Wiki can do is BAUCHEM, they're in that business, but now a Chinese firm. Possible that the German firm was taken over, I suppose....D.


Don't assume - Check !

Chugalug2
17th Oct 2013, 21:08
Danny, how fickle is the Finger of Fate, and no more fickle than when wagged by RAF Postings. Sylt sounds almost as alluring as Thorney Island, well it's by the sea for a start, so to have it so rudely snatched from you only to be sent to the front line instead (Geilenkirchen would surely have counted as that in the Cold War) must have been somewhat of a rude awakening. However we have learned enough about you in your varied and various peregrinations about the globe to know that you will seek every positive advantage in your new surroundings to learn and to absorb all that they have to offer.

Having owned two Beetles I concur with your appreciation of it. The only problem I had was with the first, which had only a 6 volt battery. The renowned willingness of the flat four air cooled engine to spring to life on the coldest of mornings could thus be somewhat inhibited. No such problems with the 12volt one though, and it could soon be supplying a volcanic effect to the heating system in short order. What a pity that the "People" were denied such pleasures, due to a little unpleasantness getting in the way.

Danny42C
17th Oct 2013, 23:44
Coffman starter and Smudgsmith,

Thank you so much for the directions to "High Flight". Just finished it. What a load of malarkey ! (but beautifully cooked). Worth a half-hour of anybody's time. Lovely flying shots, but the storyline's a bit stereotyped.

Will regard Cranwellians (aka "the Lord's Anointed") in an entirely new light from now on (came "up thro' the hawse-hole" myself - only jealous !).....D.

Reader123,

Thank you for your very kind words. Yet all good things must come to an end sometime. But not yet. I still have to work through twelve years and four Stations (inc GK) (if I live that long)....D.

Cheers to you all,

Danny.

Danny42C
18th Oct 2013, 14:32
Chugalug

I tend to "go with the flow": it's least trouble in the end. My favourite literary animal is Kipling's "Cat that Walked on his Own, and All Places were Alike to Him". Yes, Sylt had its attractions, but I'm not sure that some would have appealed to Mrs D. - specifically the freikörperkultur for which its beaches were renowned in summer (even if that only lasts a week by the sea in these latitudes).

As for the VW, it calls to mind the occasion after the war when the Wolfsburg plant was offered to a consortium of British car makers by way of War Reparations. They turned it down ("this silly little thing'll never sell !") Years later, we were celebrating the millionth Morris Minor (VW had shifted eleven million Beetles). They had, I believe, a disturbing tendency to pole-vault over the half-shaft if tucked-in too enthusiastically.

Cheers, Danny

26er
18th Oct 2013, 16:07
Danny, Your good lady wife can be assured that you would have had no problems with the bare-arse beach culture. As one who spent an August there on APC you would find that for every nubile young beauty you noticed there were at least two ancient crones to negate any effect they may have had on the male mind. And one only had to take a dip in the North Sea!

MPN11
18th Oct 2013, 16:59
I just can't wait until Danny42C ends up as an Instructor at CATCS, RAF Shawbury, so I can give him and his colleagues a hard time!! :cool:

Truck on, Danny … loving every minute! :D

Danny42C
19th Oct 2013, 00:26
MPN11,

Sir, I shall endeavour to give complete satisfaction when the time comes - it'll be a while yet, though !

(Any new recruit to my fan club is sure of a warm welcome !) :ok:

Danny

Danny42C
19th Oct 2013, 21:46
Once ensconced in GK, and my baggage having finally caught up with me, my first task was obviously to organise somewhere to bring my family out to join me. Very few (senior) officers were fortunate enough to be able to walk into a quarter on the Station. All junior ones (with exceptions like M.O.s) had to go through a very well established three-stage system.

First you spent a few weeks (I think two months in our case) in what were laughingly called "flats" in Holland. They were really "digs" with Dutch families. In theory there was nothing to stop having them in Germany, but I never heard of any such. Our "flat" consisted of a lounge, a kitchen and bathroom, and a bedroom in the large house of a Mynheer and Mynfrow Verhayden an elderly couple in Heerlen, about five miles in from the frontier which was literally on the boundary with RAF GK.

These arrangements may have started off as private deals, but now seemed to be similar to the "hiring" system at home, for I cannot recall paying Mr.V. any rent in any currency. (There was nothing, of course, to stop you renting your own place privately). It followed that one incoming RAF family succeded another as the first was allotted a house in the second stage in the procedure.

These houses were in the "Volkspark" in Cologne (or Köln, to taste), fifty miles from GK. The history was interesting. In the early days at the end of the war, Germany was in ruins and the local administration non-existent. Each of the Allies (USA, Britain, France and Russia) had been allotted (in the Potsdam Agreement) a share ("Zone") of the former Reich to administer. For this purpose, we had set up the Control Commission (Germany) to govern our share (the northern slice of the Western "half").

This was a civilian organisation (although there were naturally many ex-service officers appointed to it), and they saw no reason why they should not live in some style as being the ruling power in the land (at least, pro tem). Accordingly they had had (at German expense) a large enclave of "executive housing" built in the pleasant environs of a former large park in the south of Cologne.

These places were enormous - far more space than we could possibly use - but each service family got an entire house. However, some foresight had gone into the design. From the outset they had been planned for later conversion into two flats: all the necessary extra plumbing and cable runs were in place to make this easy.

And that is enough about the Volkspark for now, as we shall return to it later. Meanwhile I must pick up the story of our new life in Heerlen.

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C.


There's no place like Home.

Fareastdriver
20th Oct 2013, 20:45
for every nubile young beauty you noticed there were at least two ancient crones to negate any effect

The most effective form of birth control for the over 50s: Nudity

26er
21st Oct 2013, 08:11
It works for under 25s too, at least on Sylt beach!

Danny42C
21st Oct 2013, 21:13
By now, the RAF had managed to get me and my heavy baggage together at GK. The first task would be the dismantling of the crates round the pram and washing machine. Now my foresight paid off. Only a screwdriver was needed for the job; the screws went straight into a bag for re-use, the slats (all numbered for reassembly) packed down into quite a small volume to be ready for eventual return to UK.

There was a difficulty now. Although the "flat" had been allocated to us, and although the RAF transported all my household stuff across to it (and I suppose there must have been a "marching-in" of some sort), I was still without wheels of any kind, and reliant on the help of my ATC colleagues for lifts across and back. But these were readily forthcoming, for almost everybody had been in the same boat on first arrival, and obviously would be honour-bound to extend that help to the newcomers which they themselves had received.

For some reason that I simply cannot remember (but Mrs D. confirms the fact), the "Twin-tub" could not be operated in the "flat" (blow all the fuses ?). I therefore decided to return it to GK. Again, for some unknown reason, I had to rely on a couple of friends to do this for me as I was otherwise engaged. The "humping" was no problem, but the German border Customs demanded duty on the "importation". No amount of arguing would shake them, so we had to concede the principle. But the tax was a small % (and ad valorum). Never did washing machine depreciate so rapidly ! In the end, they had to disburse (on my behalf) a small % of next to nothing. But the bureaucratic German mind was happy, they had got something in their till, if not much; the correct Forms had been filled in; they were content.

Almost immediately after, the Happy Day came. Automobiles Peugeot wrote. Our car had arrived in their compound somewhere in Paris, if I would be so good as to advise them on the date I would be coming to collect (and show ID), they would bring it over to their showroom and obtain temporary French registration to allow me to take it out of the country.

I had already made all the arrangements at the GK end: got insurance from General Accident, Fire & Life (one of IIRC, only two UK insurers who would touch RAF(G) with a bargepole), and passed the relatively simple examination on German traffic rules and European road signs needed to get a BFG driving licence. (I don't think I got its BFG registration ("LP 97 B") until I could produce the car, paperwork and insurance certificate).

Getting to Paris was no problem. Night (stopping) train from GK, not much chance to snooze as it stopped at every frontier. No Shengen Agreement yet, Customs and Immigration came through the train for passport checks. At last it crawled into the Gare du Nord about 0900. I tumbled out, had a wash & brush up, a café-crême (grande-tasse) and a brioche, and dived below onto the métro. Vague memories of my schoolboy visit 22 years before lingered: I decided to make for L'Étoile, for I'd calculated that I'd have to navigate the rond-pointe to start my journey back, and it might be a good idea to have a look at it first.

Thank Heavens, I did ! For I never saw such a scene of horror. In a sort of nightmare carousel cars were hurtling in, round and out again with no quarter asked or given. Lane discipline was totally absent, horns blared and there were loud cries in an argot which eluded me, but were clearly not terms of endearment. Miraculously all seemed to be surviving this mayhem, but I decided on the spot to chicken-out. Needless to say, not a policeman was in sight. By now the grande tasse was having an effect, but in those days the vespasiennes were still a welcome piece of street furniture.

It was quite a long walk down to the Peugeot showroom, but it was late April (I think), warm and very pleasant and all downhill, as I recall. There I was warmly greeted, a coffee appeared and we settled down to complete the formalities. A minion was despatched to bring our car round to the front. Hesitantly, I confessed my terror of what I had just seen. No problem, M'sieu, they were quite accustomed to this. A chauffeur could be provided to take me out of Paris to the end of the métro line, where he'd hop out and make his way back.

Naturellement there would be a small charge for this service, only 10 NF (this would translate as roughly a £ then, say £20 today). This almost cleaned me out of NF, for I'd earmarked this sum for a modest meal on the way back, but it couldn't be helped. My driver appeared; they handed over the keys and I departed in a cloud of félicitations.

More next time.

Cheerio, everybody,

Danny42C.


Wish me luck !

Chugalug2
23rd Oct 2013, 11:32
Each of the Allies (USA, Britain, France and Russia) had been alloted (in the Potsdam Agreement) a share ("Zone") of the former Reich to administer. For this purpose, we had set up the Control Commission (Germany) to govern our share (the northern slice of the Western "half").



http://i184.photobucket.com/albums/x199/chugalug2/512px-Berlin_kammergericht_zpsddb66eb5.jpg

This is the Kamergericht in Berlin Schoneberg built 1913, the seat of the Prussian Supreme Court. In 1945 it was one of very few public buildings still standing in Berlin and was thus requisitioned by the victorious Allies to house the Allied Control Council, the governing body of the four occupation zones (American, British, Russian and French). By 1948 relations had deteriorated badly and the Russians finally walked out over the issue of currency reform. The various functions divested themselves to the 4 different zones, leaving only the Berlin Air Safety Centre in this vast labyrinth of a building.

After I left the RAF in 1973 I joined Dan-Air (flying 1-11s) which did a lot of very profitable business flying chartered holiday work out of West Berlin (that was banned to all but US, British and French airlines). We were encouraged to attend the Air Safety Centre to be briefed on the "politics" of how it was run and in particular what was involved in obtaining permission for out of hours extensions for delayed incoming flights.

The Centre was commanded by 4 Air Force officers of Colonel rank from each of the allied powers. Their subordinates, of captain or major rank, sat at the four corners of what appeared to be a large dining table, awaiting notification of a previously agreed aircraft movement from Berlin ATC, either into or our of West Berlin via one of the three Air Corridors. The centre one of these was British responsibility, so our man would then retrieve the card from his rack with that flight's details, and pass it across to his Russian equivalent who would check it and then stamp it with a large Cyrillic imprint, which acknowledged the information but reminded the reader that the Soviet Government did not guarantee the safety of the flight! He then passed the card back to the RAF officer who placed it in the approved rack, and thus the business of the Safety Centre was carried out.

All this of course left a great deal of time for other pursuits, pleasurable or otherwise. Thus the USAF Major was enjoying a baseball game on a portable TV, the French Capitaine was wreathed in Gauloises smoke as he read Le Figaro, the Russian was amending a large technical manual, and the RAF Flight Lieutenant studying for a promotion exam. He explained that they were trying to teach the Russian officer the British game of darts, but the state of disrepair of the wall surrounding the dartboard testified to a certain lack of success.

The Squadron Leader showing us around introduced us to each of them in turn before then taking us on a conducted tour of the building. He showed us into what seemed to be large ante room, in which indeed the Safety Centre threw the odd social function, but had previously been the main court room. Here it was that the Nazis had dragged the various people arrested following the aborted attempt on Hitler's life in 1944, after they had "assisted" the Gestapo in its inquiries.

Evidently the Fuhrer had insisted that after being found guilty (no ifs or buts of course), sentence (death by hanging by piano wire) was to be carried out within 2 hours of being convicted. Given the day and night raids then being experienced, this was often easier said than done (the normal place of execution at Plotzensee being near Tegel and the court being near Tempelhof). An order from the Fuhrer was of course to be obeyed without fail, so he then led us down into the basement of the building. There, in what was one of the minor court rooms, was a crude wooden beam braced out from one of the walls. He told us that if you examined the top of it from a pair of stepladders there were plainly to be seen the grooves formed by the wires from which hung those who had been condemned upstairs. We took his word for it!

Since unification the building has once again become the Supreme Court of the State of Berlin:-
Allied Control Council - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_Control_Council)

26er
23rd Oct 2013, 15:41
Chugalug, Like you I had the pleasure of a similar visit and briefing. I flew BEA/BA S1-11s at the same time. We may even have met in the pub more or less opposite the Ambassador Hotel. One point which was made was the reluctance to allow any Germans into the building in case they took the opportunity to try to create a "shrine" which could have upset the delicate relations the Western Powers had with the Russians.

Happy days !

MPN11
23rd Oct 2013, 16:33
I had the pleasure of having HQ staff oversight of BASC from my lofty perch at CAA House. Only managed to justify one Staff Visit, sadly, but what a fascinating (and fully functional) relic of WW2.

High on my list of dream postings, never to be realised!!

26er
23rd Oct 2013, 19:56
And another thing, the Berlin corridors were ten statute miles wide because they had originally been designed by the army. There were really four corridors, one of which went to Warsaw. As a result of this LOT operated a service to the west which flew from Berlin Schoenefeld then along the centre corridor, whereas Interflug left DDR airspace to the north over the Baltic before making their way across the North Sea and over Scotland.

Danny42C
23rd Oct 2013, 20:49
Outside, the car stood in all its pristine glory. The temporary registration,(on the back only) in silver stencilling on a sprayed rose-pink background which perfectly set off the car's dove-grey, was a jumble of letters and figures ending in the suffix "-75", which I'm told signifies "Paris".

It was a handsome vehicle. Although not as avante-garde as Citroën's glorious DS19, which had come out at the same time, it was a three-box design with proportions almost the same as the slightly later Rolls "Silver Shadow" (was that the one which was originally going to be called the "Silver Mist" - until someone pointed out that this might inhibit sales in Germany ?) - although the 403 was on a much smaller scale.

I was very impressed. I couldn't say the same of my driver. A small elderly, taciturn Parisian (never could grasp his name), with eyes permanently screwed-up against the fumes of the Gaulois stuck to his lower lip, he did not inspire confidence. But beggars can't be choosers.

The next few minutes are among the most frightening of my life. He launched out into the midday rush hour with total disregard of all other traffic; tyres screamed as he bulldozed through it into the maelstrom of the Rond-point (my eyes were tight shut by now) and flung off somewhere in a north-easterly direction. The noise of battle faded, I opened my eyes, we were bowling along the boulevardes. Traffic grew lighter and less threatening. After another twenty minutes or so, he pulled in at the end of the ligne (Le Bourget), I thanked him, he got out, muttered something which I suppose would translate as "she's all yours now, mate. - it's thataways - Bonne Chance !", and vanished.

I climbed in behind the wheel, set the mirrors (which he'd scorned to do, as I suppose he'd no use for them), got out my maps, set deuxième (on the column) and gingerly moved off. Now I had to feel my way into the "Coupleur Jaeger". And so I feel the time is right for a full description of this remarkable mechanism.

At the beginning of the '50s, the British car industry was getting back on its feet, but nearly all the production had to go for export to get the much needed dollars for the country. There it would be in competition with American models which were, in general, larger, more powerful, softer sprung, and which were coming in increasingly with hydraulic automatic transmissions.

Our view of automatic transmissions was that they were only successful with cars so powerful that they didn't need gearboxes in the first place, and we couldn't compete on that basis. But we could at least get rid of the clutch pedal, the operation of which was (and is) the bugbear of all learner drivers. And that should be much cheaper than a full autobox.

I think Ford were first in the field with the "Ford-o-Matic", and no doubt it was followed with "Austin-o-Matic" and "Morris-o-Matic", and every other-o-Matic. The idea was the same in all cases: Keep the box of cogs which had held sway since the beginning of time, and the friction clutch, but actuate the latter with manifold depression, controlled by solenoid switches.

(Pre-war there had been ingenious efforts made to get round the problem. Daimler had their "Pre-Selector" box with an epicylic system (I think Armstrong-Siddley and Lanchester bought into it, too). And Rover had the attractive idea of a "freewheel", which dispensed altogether with clutch operation once the car was moving, but required good brakes as now there was no engine braking. And there was, I seem to recall, a "Hobbs" transmission).

All the "O-Matics" failed for the same reason. Friction clutches wear slowly, the human ankle unconsciously compensates for the increasing pedal travel. But the mechanism couldn't do that, so the things were always having to be re-adjusted; the whole idea got a bad name and everybody gave up on it.

Except Jaeger in France (I don't know at what stage Smiths Instruments got in on the act, but they did, and it became the "Smiths-Jaeger" transmission over here). They went straight to the root of the trouble - the two leather (or later composition) lined plates rubbing together.

Bin those, for there was a much better idea waiting in the wings: the Magnetic Particle Clutch. Two concentric rotors, fitted, one inside a "hollow" larger other so that only a very small gap was left between the "mating" surfaces. Permanently magnetise the driven surface so that an ounce of iron filings can be evenly spread round it.

Embody coils of wire in the engine-driven rotor so that when a current is passed through them the filings will "scrum down" in the middle, bridge the gap - and "Bob's your uncle". And you can find a diagram and much more about it on Google/Wiki under "Coupleur Jaeger". (Tip: if you come across the Google translation of "balais" as "broom", what they mean is (carbon) "brush.")

And this is far too long already, so that's all till next time. May return to the subject later.

Goodnight, chaps,

Danny42C


Oh, for the Open Road !

Chugalug2
23rd Oct 2013, 22:37
Danny:-
...which perfectly set off the car's dove-grey
May one complement Sir on Sir's excellent choice of colour? It complements the White Wall Tyres so well, which I'm sure that Sir now sees were well worth the modest surcharge!
Seriously, Danny, a classic car in every sense of the word.
I once nearly bought a car in Paris, the Renault 9, which could be obtained in RHD (ie UK spec) at a considerable reduction on the export list price, as they wanted to move the metal. In the event I bought a UK spec VW Polo in Berlin and imported it. Longest drive I've ever done! It came off the Wolfsburg line on Friday, arrived in Berlin by train on Saturday, nothing happened Sunday, and I drove it away from the showroom Monday lunchtime, having flown in by Dan-Air to do so.
http://i184.photobucket.com/albums/x199/chugalug2/Peugeot_403_front_zps23357877.jpg

MPN11
24th Oct 2013, 11:23
And eventually, a brilliant engineer somewhere discovered a way of getting windscreen wipers to park neatly, instead of being left sticking up into the driver's eye-line when not in use! :)

BEagle
24th Oct 2013, 14:44
And eventually, a brilliant engineer somewhere discovered a way of getting windscreen wipers to park neatly...

Or, in the case of the wretched 100E Anglia with its vacuum powered wipers, to stop the things thrashing themselves to death and vanishing over the hedge if you lifted off quickly..... Although driving with anything less than full throttle was a pretty rare event in the infernal vehicle. 0-60 in 29.4 sec - you have to wonder why they bothered to include the .4!!

Wander00
24th Oct 2013, 15:21
Not sure my 100E Prefect ever reached 60!

Union Jack
24th Oct 2013, 15:47
Loved the Silver Shadow analogy, Danny, and trust you had no trouble finding the filler cap when you first had to fill up your Grey Lady (with apologies to Alvis)!:)

My Father stayed loyal to big Peugeots for a straight run of 25 years.

Jack

MPN11
24th Oct 2013, 17:03
My Ford Popular (owned 1963-1965) was Black, not like this gopping colour. But it did have screen-wash. Well, a washing-up liquid bottle, from which I used to squirt liquid at the windscreen through the open driver's side window. :eek:

I eventually discovered that the floor-pan was plywood, screwed/bolted onto stubs on the chassis. But the attachments had long gone, so on sharp cornering the entire floor on one side would tilt, bringing the relevant seat (and occupant) with it. Quite handy for chucking a young lady in your direction!! Oh, and the back seat was remarkably spacious, and had these little trap-doors for the jack … (I'll forgo any further detail). Skinny tyres, though: it bogged down in a field whilst at OCTU, which required a young lady Off Cdt to assist me in getting it out again so that she would be back in time for curfew.

Cost me £40, eventually sold for £5 to an elderly MoD policeman as his first car. During its time at Shawbury, it was "borrowed" at 10/0 a night (make your own arrangements for petrol and any encounters with the Constabulary). That did not inhibit me, as during that period I had invested my Uniform Allowance in a Hillman Minx with a bench front seat, and was thus (for a brief period) a two-car A/Plt Off. :cool:

http://i319.photobucket.com/albums/mm468/atco5473/PPRuNe%20ATC/1956fordpopulararp600pix.jpg (http://s319.photobucket.com/user/atco5473/media/PPRuNe%20ATC/1956fordpopulararp600pix.jpg.html)

dogle
24th Oct 2013, 19:41
Aahhh, Grey Lady indeed ... truly a 'proper' car!

Now, those mirrors which the chauffeur so disdained - it seems that Peugeot was putting the side mirrors in that more logical place long before perfidious Albion saw sense and stopped mounting them above the wheels (the nearer to the eye, the better the field of view).

That leads me to wonder..... Danny, if you can cast your mind back to earlier days, how good was the field of view in that life-preserving mirror on the Spitfire?

Danny42C
24th Oct 2013, 21:03
Chugalug,

The Kammergericht does look a magnificent building, but I only had a fortnight's detachment to Gatow in '61, when it looked as if a second Airlift was on the cards: we were rather busy and I never got time to see it. And the organisational tree of the place does sound a bit "bushy-topped".

Thank you for support in the matter of my impeccable taste, for I fear there are contrary opinions about it. And what a lovely picture ! This one's obviously a Concourse d'Élégance model, bulled-up with every add-on in the catalogue. Mine was a LHD model (so that is a generational thing - see my reply to Fareastdriver #4421 p.222).

Accordingly I had no sunshine roof (what would les Rosbifs want with one, tout le monde et son chien knows that the sun never shines over there ?). I did not have any whitewalls ! But I did have the trims (au cabriolet - 20NF). Now listen to this:

These were stainless steel (on a mass-market car !). They were held in place by the centre dish (standard all models), sensibly secured by an honest 14mm bolt (both stainless). So were the bumpers. So was the side trim, though they did spoil the effect by attaching them with mild iron clips which rusted and started rust in the holes in the bodywork.

This at a time when we were turning things out looking as if there'd been an explosion in a chromium-plate factory (you got it home from the showroom; it rained during the night; you had rust on the bumpers in the morning)....D.

MPN11 and BEagle,

I'm afraid wipers were left sticking out on all cars for many a long year, before they worked out how to make them lie down. And didn't the VW wipers work off the air in the spare (under the bonnet) ?

MPN11, it was probably a similar specimen to yours which was so violently assaulted by our budding Barry Sheene that night in Thorney. And now I remember, there was a story (likely to be true) that old Henry Ford ordered some components from the suppliers to his Model T line, but specified the exact size and shape of the sides of the crates in which they should be delivered.... (yes, you've guessed it)......D.

Union Jack,

Yes, you did have to look in the book first time to find it, didn't you ? (for the uninitiated, lift the lower end of the offside rear lamp cluster).

Your Father was a gentleman of rare discernment (there are not many of us left, I fear).....D.

Now this is real crewroom natter !

Cheers, everybody, Danny

Danny42C
24th Oct 2013, 21:22
dogle,

Re car mirrors, how right you are ! Bought a Renault 16 in '73 with no external mirrors that I can remember. But on the accessory market there was an adjustable external mirror that clipped onto the top of the window (but with fittings so slim that you could still close the window); this was the best idea of all.

As regards the rear-view Spitfire mirror, it was very useful in the carcase "simulator" at Hawarden, with the painted-on-the-wall-behind Me109 (covered with picture of "sky" which the instructor could twitch aside by means of string), and both were "fixed", as it were. But in the air you did better to keep weaving and looking back, for the field of vision in the mirror was very small).

Danny.

Chugalug2
25th Oct 2013, 17:48
Danny, your mention of mirrors reminds me of when I was collecting the Polo that I mentioned above. All the paperwork done at the garage, I was waiting in my new car to be joined by the rep who was to go with me to collect the Export Plates and paperwork for my drive home. My revelry in testing all the knobs and switches and breathing in that new car smell was interrupted by a lot of obviously urgent discussion in German outside the car betwixt salesman, manager and fitter. I wound the window down and asked what was wrong, dreading that having got to sitting in the car I was now not going to be able to drive it home. I was not reassured by the manager's opening remarks, "I'm so sorry, I don't know how this could have happened". "What? What has happened?". "The driver's door mirror is on the wrong side, despite the order clearly calling for it to be fixed to the RH door". "Is that a problem?". "No problem, we are going to move it now", and so they did, but were mortified that such a thing could have happened. As for me I was in blissful ignorance as I had not noticed and would happily have driven as was. Vorsprung durch Technik!

smujsmith
25th Oct 2013, 19:55
Danny,

" But in the air you did better to keep weaving and looking back, for the field of vision in the mirror was very small). "

Are you sure that you hadn't been fobbed off with a mirror left in the Spit by the ATS delivery pilot ? Just a thought :rolleyes: I'll be off about my business then :ok:

Smudge

Danny42C
25th Oct 2013, 21:29
I had my route well planned: it was straightforward and I expected no difficulty with it. One thing was certain: I aimed to bypass Brussels well to the south, for I'd heard alarming tales of that city traffic as being like one big Rond Pointe throughout, exacerbated by the fact that there was no driving test in Belgium in those days - you just paid the money and got the driving licence with no questions asked (as indeed was the case in UK till 1935).

And it would route me through the Ardennes, which I'd heard were worth seeing. The first thing that struck me was how quiet the roads seemed as I pulled away from Paris. Then it occurred to me: of course, the sacred Hour(s) of the Déjeuner ! - when every true Frenchman attends to the most important business of the day - food !

Unfortunately, I had to tighten my belt and put that out of my mind. The car rolled along smoothly and quietly. At a time when the home-grown variety came on the roads with instruction not to exceed 30 mph for the first 500 miles, the 403 had a running-in speed of 60 mph (no, I don't mean kph) - which was no hardship at all to me. The distance was about 220 miles, I reckoned on five hours on the road, I should get in at dusk, barring accidents. The tank was full, no worries there !

It was a lovely day in early spring, the countryside was looking its best, this was going to be a very pleasant drive. Laon was my first check-point, I passed it just to the south, a sort of inland Mont-St-Michel sticking up from the plain; a magnificent sight indeed. It was just after passing Laon that my first puzzle appeared - a triangular caution: "Attention - Grenailles !".

Grenailles ? Grenailles ? Didn't remember that road sign on my BFG test. Thought back 22 years to my dim French mental vocabulary. Only thing I came up with was "grenouilles" - frogs ! That must be it ! At certain times of the year there must be a kind of mass migration of frogs for some reason, they would be crossing the roads, braking distances would be greatly increased if you were running over a carpet of squashed frog. It made good sense.

Only for a few moments ! Then the first loose granite chip cracked under a wing, then a regular fusillage underneath the car. Same as the UK - dump the top-dressing on the road, and let the traffic roll it in. Broken screen ? Hard luck !

Not for the first time (and certainly not for the last), I blessed the continental system of roadside kilometer stones, showing the road number. This is an enormous help to the stranger navigating cross-country: it confirms that you are on the right road, and any mistake shows itself almost at once. With that, and a good road map, you just can't go wrong.

Recalling the thorough Customs and Immigration checks on the train the night before, I expected the same thing on the roads, but I seemed to wander from France into Belgium, and then into Holland without let or hindrance. I suppose, given the hundreds of minor country roads, it was simply impossible to guard more than a handful of main routes. Still, I had my passport, and the "ship's papers", at the ready and had nothing to fear in any case.

And then I was running through the winding hills and valleys of the Ardennes. All the hawthorn and fruit trees were in blossom in the sleepy little towns and villages as I ran through. In the peaceful afternoon sunshine it was hard to think back sixteen years to some of the most savage fighting of the war here in the bitter winter of '44, with the "Battle of the Bulge" (Hitler's "Last Throw" in the west) at its height.

I navigated to Heerlen, and it was plain sailing after that. Across the border into Germany with no trouble with Customs at the frontier. It seems that after "straining at the gnat" of a washing machine, the "camel" (in the shape of a brand new car) could be "swallowed" as being not worth bothering about.
I got in at last light. Dinner in the Mess had never tasted so good !

Goodnight, everybody,

Danny42C


Hunger is a good sauce.

Danny42C
26th Oct 2013, 18:12
Smudge (your #4462)

(You mean the one left in the map case with the phone no. on in lipstick ? Dream on!)

If flown operationally, I suppose I would have paid much more attention to it. But as all we had to watch for was the CFI with his white-spinner job, and I found direct eyeball search better.

Danny.

smujsmith
26th Oct 2013, 18:22
Danny,

Respect to your methods, but "mirror with phone number and lipstick", goodness did such things happen ? I spent a few years hanging out of the back of an aircraft, being the pilots mirror. Not sure how useful I was as they never told me, I usually got told not to extend the straps during the after flight servicing. Perhaps you could enlighten us as to your "contact" with the ATS, if there was any, and your impressions, from the timeframe, rather than the perhaps "politically correct" modern take.

Smudge :ok:

Danny42C
26th Oct 2013, 18:25
Chugalug (your #4461),

Imagine the scene a few years since in an agency for a British car: "Well, do you want the bloody car or don't you ! If you don't, there's plenty 'as does !"

D.

MPN11
26th Oct 2013, 18:35
Shock!! Posh RAFG people who buy new cars!! I think my first new one was in 1986. :\

Danny42C
26th Oct 2013, 18:42
Smudge'

No such luck ! Contact ? With ATS - Nil, with ATA , only sight from afar, I'm afraid.

D.

smujsmith
26th Oct 2013, 21:47
Danny,

My apologies, of course ATA, I doubt you would have needed new tyres so quickly. ATS indeed, five demerits duly awarded :eek:

Smudge :ok:

Danny42C
27th Oct 2013, 00:33
Smudge,

I wasn't really talking about tyres. The Auxiliary Territorial Service were the charming young ladies of the Army variety. (but you were pulling an old man's leg, weren't you ? Shame on you !)

D.

smujsmith
27th Oct 2013, 16:43
:rolleyes: You rumbled me Danny :ok:

Smudge

Danny42C
27th Oct 2013, 18:05
Now what is this Cold War warrior doing in return for the vast sums being devoted to his upkeep by the long suffering taxpayer ? Oddly enough, quite a bit as it happened. And it happened like this:

In my 17 years as an air-trafficker, 3 were spent at the School (Shawbury). The other 14 were all at the "coalface" - half as Approach, half Talkdown. So say, 7 years T/Down, off and on. In that time it is hard to guess, but I cannot have done less than 1,000 runs. Again at a guess, say 80% were clear weather (under the hood) training runs.

Of the remaining 20%, nearly all would be "live" (in the sense that they could not have got down where and when they wanted without my assistance). But no "Life or Death" was involved: they would have the fuel to get to a better place if they missed-approach with me. And then there is a last, tiny number where that did not apply.

It was quite early in my time at GK, for we had not got into an OMQ there yet. At 0200 on a miserable night, I was on watch in the CPN-4; a Warm Front was coming through, and this one was a typical example: low cloudbase still coming down, drizzle and mist below and poor visibility. You would not put a dog out on a night like this.

A NATO exercise was winding-down. We'd recovered all ours, but were still standing by as named diversion for Laarbruch (Lord knows why; they would have to overfly Brüggen and Wildenrath to get to us - I suppose both were stood-down that night). Laarbruch had their last pair airborne: (Mission ## Alpha and Bravo), almost in circuit. Ten minutes more, and we can all wrap-up. The radar mechs stood around impatiently, waiting for the word from me. Then it all went pear-shaped.

I don't know exactly what happened. "Alpha" touched down, a tyre blew, or a wheel broke (as Chugalug knows, this can happen), a leg collapsed or got torn off. And a Canberra was left reclining gracefully on one elbow in the middle of Laarbruch runway (no casualty). It would take a half-hour at least to get it off. And "Bravo" had twenty minuits' fuel and no runway.

My Approach box squawked. Approach gave me the story in a couple of terse sentences, and a QTE. I put a strobe on it and there was "Bravo", plodding steadily towards me. "I have him at 39 miles", I said, "put him across to me - leave the box open - let's have some fresh Met". You didn't need to be Einstein to do the sum, this one was going to be close.

He came up on frequency, we exchanged the ususal courtesies, then I launched into my patter: "GCA minimums * (sic) are 200 ft", I said, "but I understand that that is academic ?" "Yes", he said, "it is". So the chips were down, it would be a one-shot operation.

* (Old Classics Master goes up to 101% rpm in the grave).

I was quietly confident. Pilots come (from my standpoint) as Squadron pilots or Bloggs, and I'd had plenty of both. Bloggs is hard work (after all, the lad's got to learn, this is what it's all about, everybody has to start sometime ) as he wanders all over your tube like a drunken spider. But the Squadron pilot knows his stuff. He will do exactly as told straightaway: he is a pleasure to deal with. And I had one such now.

Approach waited for a pause, and gave me: "400 ft base and 800 yds, light and variable", which I passed on to my man. And now I think I may have got it wrong when I told you a while back that the GK Truck was aligned on 27, for I suddenly seem to have a powerful recollection of his passing me in an easterly direction on the runway, and turning right onto the south taxiway to get to the apron. For of course the "run" went perfectly.

Thanks", he said. "Don't mention it", said I, "Call local on ###decimal#, Goodnight". "Any more ?" I asked Approach. "No, that's it". "Run-down" I told the mechs.

Fast-forward half an hour. Now the scene changes: in the darkened dining hall of the Mess, all the tables are laid for breakfast, but in one better lit corner four people are tucking into their bacon & eggs - the night-flying supper - in companionable silence. On one side sit the two "young tigers" - the Canberra pilot and his nav. Facing them are the two "old hairies" - (for Approach was a wartime nav). I thought of the pleasing symmetry of the picture: the table was divided by almost a generation of time and experience, but "it was a like task we were at". Between us, the RAF still had a Canberra and two young men were still hale and hearty.

It wasn't a bad night's work. They would stay the night in rooms in the Mess (always kept ready), then take the refuelled Canberra back to Laarbruch in the morning. I had my own room (for I would be on duty till 0800), then I'd take the road home for Heerlen or Cologne.

I want to pick up my point about CPN-4 alignment. Two of the four "Clutch" airfields were 09/27, the others 10/28. Almost certainly all would have CPN-4s aligned alike - but how ? There must be plenty of ex-RAF(G) people out there. Anyone ?

Evenin', folks,

Danny42C.


You can't lose 'em all !

Union Jack
28th Oct 2013, 11:33
Between us, the RAF still had a Canberra and two young men were still hale and hearty.

And, hopefully, they still are, as well as the two "not so young" men. "Pleasing symmetry" indeed, and pleasing story too.:ok:

Jack

PS Trust you have been too badly affected by wind ....:)

Danny42C
28th Oct 2013, 16:40
Union Jack,

Jack,

Strangely enough, not affected at all externally, but...........! :ooh:

Thanks for the appreciative remarks !

Danny

Danny42C
29th Oct 2013, 16:42
There was about a two-months gap between my arrival in GK and bringing my family over to Heerlen. GK was fairly relaxed over the weekends; they ran a popular gliding club. Many of the members were naturally squadron crews (a nav was towed off one Sunday morning for a Silver "C"; the next thing we heard of him was that he was down somewhere south of Toulouse, a distance record which stood for many years). I had no particular ambition to go gliding (after all, it's just more flying, with a forced landing after any trip away from base - and you're not even getting paid for it !).

Nevertheless it seemed a harmless occupation and I decided to try it. My instructor was W/Cdr Crowshaw, the C.O. of 3 Squadron. We started on the dual "K.2", rather a handsome thing as I remember, and ran through through the approved syllabus. Like most powered pilots (I imagine), I was horrified by the attitude during a winch launch - even worse than a Meteor in the climb - and pushed the stick forward right heartily when he cut loose ! After a few winches-and-bumps (including the obligatory line-break exercise), I was put in the queue for one of the Club's Grunau "Babies", and in due course came to the top.

Sometime ago I've told the tale of my first solo, but I got round well enough. However, they'd told me to turn in on the end of the downwind leg at 400 ft, and this I dutifully did. But they had not told me to keep tapping the ASI on the way round: it seemed that, in the absence of engine vibration, that elderly instrument tended to stick. I'd been instructed to extend the airbrakes on finals to kill off excessive height ("reverse-throttle", Smudge !), but looking over the side what I saw made that seem unwise - whatever else I'd got, it wasn't excessive height !

To cut a short story long, I kept the brakes in and tightened up a bit, but even so I just managed to scrape in, coming to rest exactly abeam the official timekeeper's trestle. This saved people having to push me back, and of course left it in the ideal spot for the next chap to climb in and the wire to be hooked-up. But that wasn't exactly the idea, of course.

I did a few more circuits in the "Baby", and a dual ot two in the "K.2" to find thermals around the field (and land back). But I got no further than that, for as soon as my family rejoined me, I would be off the Station when not on duty, and far too busy anyway. But it had been very interesting.

However, while I was there, the Club members naturally had to muck-in with all the humbler duties: pushing gliders in and out of the hangar, dragging the wire back after each launch with a Landrover they'd got, and of course working the winch. And this was a home-made contraption of which Heath Robinson would have been justly proud.

They'd got hold of a cheap old open-bodied Opel "Kapitan", and cut off all the bodywork, leaving only the driver's seat. Then they took off the drive shaft, leaving only the wheels and back axle. Lastly they fitted a cable drum back onto the gearbox in place of the shaft (all this perilously close under your toes) - where was "Elf'n'Pastry" when we needed you ? Of course the sorry remains of a powerful old car could no longer move: the Club Landrover (not RAF) hauled it about.

After brief instruction and a dual session, I took my turn on the winch. It was dragged into place head-on to the gliders, and anchored securely. The wire was pulled back off the winch (gearbox in neutral) and down to the gliders. I'm a bit hazy about the signals, but I think that when they levelled the wings, it was "Take up Slack" (I engaged top at tick-over, and watched the cable come taut, then pushed clutch out and held it). And when they waggled them it was "All Out": I let the clutch in and floored the accelerator.

I think the "Kappy" had the GMC three-litre six which had gone into all sorts of war vehicles, and there was much life in this old dog yet. There was a tremendous roar, the glider rose off into the air and you watched the line like a hawk for the next few seconds, lifting off only when the glider released, but leaving the engine ticking with clutch in till the cable drogue hit the ground (to avoid tangles), then back to neutral.

The cooling system had got a bit bunged-up over the years (as they do), so we left the radiator cap off: at the end of each winch I'd be garlanded in steam for a half a minute until it went "off the boil". And we always kept a bucket of water for top-up. The L/R would come flying out, hook-up the cable end and reel it back for the next customer.

One question did exercise our minds: what protection did you have if a cable snapped ? Damn-all, seemed to be the answer. There was only the screen. Get down smartly under the dash, keep the cable drum going to shorten, as far as possible, the broken end which was coming at you. Fortunately, it never happened !

Cheers, everybody,

Danny42C.

Gravity never lets up !

MPN11
29th Oct 2013, 17:14
http://i319.photobucket.com/albums/mm468/atco5473/PPRuNe%20ATC/CroydonAirWing.jpg (http://s319.photobucket.com/user/atco5473/media/PPRuNe%20ATC/CroydonAirWing.jpg.html)

RAF Hawkinge, 18 Aug 1961 ... 3 solo launches. :ok:

From my expression, I guess this was the first one!! :sad:

My logbook suggests I had received 71 minutes dual instruction :eek:

Wander00
29th Oct 2013, 17:24
The story of the Canberra at the last chance saloon reminds me of the day a talk-down controller saved my bacon, and my reputation as an instrument pilot. Six T17s on exercise over the SW Approaches in and we heard Shackletons being diverted to Gibraltar as whole of the UK went out in fog. Boss decided to call it a day on the exercise and we headed for St Mawgan. Boss called the order for descent - me last and I am the only White Card. Everyone goes down the slope in turn and lands safely. I suddenly become acutely aware that one of the guys in the back is a very new Dad. We agreed one attempt, 100 ft minimum, and if we did not get in then I would fly over the airfield at 1000ft or so and they would bang out, I would then head the aeroplane out over the sea and follow them out. In the end I flew the best instrument approach I ever flew with a brilliant talk down controller and we saw the lights at 125 ft and just over half a mile. the boss bought my beer that night. So whoever that controller was - THANK YOU.

Danny42C
29th Oct 2013, 18:17
MPN11,

Congratulations on your First Solo ! Truly, one picture says a thousand words . We all know the feeiing well - we have all (as the saying goes): "been there" in our distant youth......D.

Wander00,

Another heartening story - and another illustration of what adrenaline can do for you when you're really up against it.

And thank you for the compliment to one of my (often derided) clan !.....D.

My regards to you both, Danny.

smujsmith
29th Oct 2013, 18:37
Danny,

" To cut a short story long, I kept the brakes in and tightened up a bit, but even so I just managed to scrape in, coming to rest exactly abeam the official timekeeper's trestle. This saved people having to push me back, and of course left it in the ideal spot for the next chap to climb in and the wire to be hooked-up. But that wasn't exactly the idea, of course."

Or could your previous experience in aviating aluminium around the atmosphere have given you that "sharp edge" to drop it on a sixpence? As a glider pilot, slightly later than your emergence as an engineless aviator, I suspect that, as you advised me in the past, flying is flying. Great seeing some gliding coming in, RAF Germany had some great clubs in my time, any info on thermal or wave flying in Germany in your time would be interesting. Another smashing post, and more service flying options.

multorum ingeniis virum

Smudge :ok:

Danny42C
29th Oct 2013, 22:43
Smudge,

As you say, all flying is flying, the thing has wings and a tail: it matters little whether it is propelled by gravity, or pulled along with a prop, or pushed along by a giant blowlamp - it's all the same. The old stick and rudder works as well today as ever it did for the Wrights.

I'm afraid the fact that I landed "on the button" was pure luck. As for thermals, there were plenty around in '60, it was a good summer in Europe, but I cannot say more than that. I had them shown to me in GK, on finding one the trick seemed to be put the glider on its left ear and do a Rate 4 turn, pulling all the 'G' that you dared (short of ripping the wings off) in order to stay in the rising column.

But I am no authority on the subject, and have little to contribute on it.

Let's have a translation - is it in the sense of "Ingenious, these Chinese" ?

Danny.

smujsmith
29th Oct 2013, 23:00
Danny,

It translates to " a man of many talents " (Latin) so not too far out. Having managed a full Silver Gliding certificate, I can tell you that your description of that landing owed more to flying experience than the standard "patter" I received. The point being, on my first solo, it strikes me that had I been low, and out of position, I certainly would not have ended up "adjacent to the launch point" or anywhere near. Its a shame your Gliding escapades were cut short, many have been, me included. I can though relate to your first solo arrival, just wish mine had been so precise :ok:

Smudge

Danny42C
30th Oct 2013, 15:46
Smudge,

"A Jack of all trades, but a Master of None" would be better applied to me !

So, a full Silver "C" ! I stand in humble awe. Compared with a Magister Gliderorum such as you, I am a mere sciolist, against which PPRuNe rightly cautions us at the bottom of every page - and this is not sarcasm.

I sense there are good stories in the offing - out with 'em !

Danny.

smujsmith
30th Oct 2013, 18:35
Ahh Danny,

I'm sure many may have had some amusement, at my expense, when I was gliding, but no real stories of "derring doo" to tell really. I suspect that as a solo pilot I was always very aware that if I "cocked up" there was no one else there to save my little pink body. Therefore I tended to stay on the safe side of the envelope (as they say). Flogging around for 5+ hours in an ASK8, borrowed from a friend, to get my silver duration, was no fun at all. We had no spare parachutes as We already had them all in use on the other gliders. So our CFI said, stay local, don't crash, see you in five hours. After about two hours I would have appreciated a smoke and a walk, it was not to be. By the time I landed I, unlike the ASK8 was a wreck. But I had my goal. I stopped smoking after that, but will never forget the 5 hour silver duration flight. Incidentally, it was quite a windy day and the owner flew it after me. He allowed himself to get downwind and as it had the"penetration" of a dandelion seed ended up being rescued from a field. The aircraft was perched on a hedge, a fence pole protruding up between his legs, and he spent almost an hour using the controls to balance the thing in that state. Gliding could have its points I suppose.

Smudge:ok:

Danny42C
31st Oct 2013, 18:35
At last the great day arrived: my family was coming out. They flew Newcastle - Düsseldorf. The trip must have been under RAF auspices, for I don't recall paying anybody anything, and I don't know who the (civil) Carrier was.

I met them on time at Düsseldorf: we had a joyous reunion, Mary had grown a lot (or so it seemed to me). The new car was greatly admired and we set off for the 50 miles back to Heerlen (Akenstrasse ?) and our new home-to-be for the next two-three months. I hope I'd had the nous to arrange with the Verheydens (they were a kindly couple) to rustle up some grub for us, but neither Mrs D. nor I can remember. From then on, we were on our own, for we didn't come into contact with them much.

The pram had survived my efforts, and been bulled-up well, now Mary would have more room than in the carricot which had been her lot since leaving Hayling. But the washing machine had to remain in storage at GK for the time being. And now we had to come to terms with life in Holland. Heerlen was a mining town, but you would never guess it but for the pithead sticking up in the middle. The big Brunssum (Hendrik) Mine was one of the largest in Europe, it extended under RAF GK well into Germany - indeed some UHF frequencies were barred to us as they set off alarm systems in the mine below.

But Heerlen had wide, tree-lined avenues (with cycle tracks, of course); it was as far from the gaunt mining villages of Durham as could be imagined. And most of the shopkeepers had a smattering of English, for almost all the RAF people had started in circumstances similar to ours, had got used to the Dutch shops and markets, and even after getting into MQs at GK preferred to go over the border (five miles), rather than to GK town (only two), for what the NAAFI shop on camp could not provide.

One day, not long after arriving, I'd gone on watch at GK; Mrs D. sallied out with Mary to get some meat for dinner. The butcher she chose was the exception to the rule: he knew very little English. And of course, with a baby to look after, she'd certainly had no time (as I had), before she left England, to mug-up any German. The handful of customers in the shop were no help - they had no English, either. It was heavy going.

A small voice by her side piped up: "Can I help you, Ma'am ?" She breathed a deep sigh of relief. It was an American boy of 10-12. Mary had caught his eye, he immediately appointed himself interpreter, fluently and accurately conveyed her wishes to the butcher, and negotiated the sale. She fulsomely thanked her White Knight, saying, "I'm so glad you were there to help me."

In the years since, she has often retold the story. I assume that he would be the son of a member of the US Forces who were serving with us at GK. Today he would be about 65 (if he yet lives, as I hope), and (who knows) may possibly read this.

We settled down fairly comfortably in our first-floor "flat". We were never quite sure what old Mr Verheyden did for a living. Ostensibly he was a semi-retired wholesale produce merchant. But all his work seemed to be done from home; trucks (often unmarked) used to turn up at the door at all hours of the day and night; he would go out and have a short conversation with the driver, and off they would go. We suspected he was a smuggler (probably the "Mr Big"), but what he was smuggling, and in which direction, we couldn't guess. And in any case it was none of our business.

The little "flat" suited our needs well enough. It had some quirks: the bathroom (and kitchen) water was heated by gas wall "geysers" (this idea was common at home before and for a few years after the war). It was economical, as you only used gas as and when hot water was required; (central heating would always by coke boiler in the cellar). But the pilot jets got a bit furred up after a time, you might get light-up with a gentle "plop" - or a more or less violent explosion !

But the one in our bathroom was particularly erratic in this way: I grimly noted the name of the manufacturer - Junkers ! In war they had bombed us with their "Stuka", and shot us down with their "Ju88", and moved their paratroops around in the "Tante-Ju". And now they were trying to blow us up !

Yet I can't complain. Our daughter has run two Mitsubishi "Lancers"; both have been efficient and reliable cars. So I suppose I should forgive the firm for bombing me with their Type 97 ("Betty") in Burma (and losing us a valuable elephant), after having played (as torpedo bombers) the major part in sinking our "Repulse" and "P.O.W." two years before.

And they caused the Allied Navies in the Pacific much grief with the famous "Zero" ("Zeke") shipboard fighter (although I never saw one: it was exclusively a seabird). In the Arakan we had the very similar "Oscar", to contend with. This was the almost as good - but much less well known - Nakajima "01" (therefore a year newer than the Mitsubishi "00" - "Zero"),

Good evening, folks,

Danny42C


Together at last !

Reader123
1st Nov 2013, 14:19
Danny I'm confused...

You're staying in Heerlen in the Netherlands, your wife is in the butcher and lacks German language skills?


More interestingly, you say that even when in MQ at GK, you preferred to shop in Holland; why was this? Because they were our allies?

Danny42C
1st Nov 2013, 15:13
Reader123,

Mrs D. had only come out from UK for the first time a week or two earlier: German was not widely taught in English schools at that period.

Almost all our people had spent their first few months in Holland, they knew all the local shops well, it was only five miles away. GK town was an unknown quantity to them, even though it was only two. Remember that that on leaving Holland we spent the next few months in Cologne, before reaching MQ in GK.

And yes, we were more popular in Holland !

Danny

pzu
1st Nov 2013, 17:33
Danny at al

In case you missed it, this has to be one of the best post WWII stories

http://www.pprune.org/military-aircrew/526827-yank-spitfire-1944-a.html

PZU - Out of Africa (Reyired)

Danny42C
1st Nov 2013, 20:32
pzu,

Thanks ! Just finished it. Great bit of film, and I heartily second Col. Blythe's final remark - everyone should have the chance to try it just once - for we shall not see its like again.

Danny.