Gaining an RFC Pilot's Brevet in the Great War

[Wwyvern]

I recently came across "A personal History" written by an uncle who flew in the First World War. He joined the RFC as a cadet pilot, gained his wings and flew DH9s in France towards the end of the War.

If there is any interest, I'll jot down the relevant parts of his "History" in easily digestible chunks.

[BEagle]

Here's how it was done.....

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;)

[Wwyvern]

Beagle

That'll save me a lot of editing!

[Archimedes]

Whether it's of interest to Ppruners (and I suspect it will be to more than just me), it'll be of interest to historians; there is some material out there about experiences of training and some about DH9 Ops, but the more that can be added to the available material, the better.

As a couple of members of this site know from their incarceration at Shrivenham, there's one bit of the MA programme that would be enhanced by your uncle's memoirs...

[Amiri01]

Wwyvern,

There is another military aviation forum that would really appreciate a transcript of your uncle's story.

It is at The war in the air - Great War Forum (http://1914-1918.invisionzone.com/forums/index.php?showforum=25). There are many reputable WW1 aviation historians at that forum as well as many people such as yourself who hold these fascinating stories. I would certainly like to hear it.

Cheers.

[Dengue_Dude]

Would love to read such as that - yes please. It would be a shame to 'lose' it.

Regards

[Wwyvern]

This is a record of the few months in 1917 and 1918 when Henry Ernest Sidney Blades, known to his family as “Harry”, trained as a Royal Flying Corps pilot and his subsequent posting to fly DH9 day bomber aircraft in France. He became my uncle by marriage.

When the War started, he was 14, and he was very keen to be involved in the War. He was a Boy Scout, and they were used in observation and guarding roles. As soon as he could, he joined the WW1 version of the Home Guard. However, his main hope was to fly in the RFC. He could not go to war until he was 18, and he feared that the War would be over before he was old enough.

He confided his fears to his local clergyman, who had learned that the RFC were recruiting boys under 18 to be Flight Cadets. This branch had been introduced by the War Department to help cut down the time required by a cadet in learning to fly, and enable would-be flyers to be sent to France as a pilot or observer by the time they attained the age of 18. This sounded just what Harry wanted, and the clergyman corresponded with the Air Board, and accompanied Harry to London, to the Hotel Cecil, the wartime HQ of the Air Board. He was interviewed by a Major who wore wings and decorations, and was told he was accepted and would be informed of where and when to report.

After a couple of weeks, he received a rail warrant and instructions to report to Ipswich recruiting station for his medical. He recalls being in a large, cold hall with several dozen other hopefuls, stripped naked and moving between tables manned by clerks and with a doctor to carry out specific tests. After the medicals, now clothed again, groups of 12 or so swore the oath of allegiance to King and country for the duration of the war and for a further year if necessary.

This group was destined for Bury St Edmunds and the Suffolk Regiment. Given rudimentary bedding, they were fed and quartered. Ablutions were with cold water (he was glad that he hadn’t yet begun to shave), and toilet facilities were a large galvanised tub which had to be carried by two persons and emptied outside. Next day they were kitted out at the Quartermaster’s Stores.

This was in September 1917. There seemed to be no formal training, only route marches. He learned to put on puttees, however. They were there only for 5 days and they were ordered to St Leonards, near Hastings, to join No 1 OTTW, Royal Flying Corps. This was 7 days after enlisting, and he joined about 600 other boys in his situation. He noted that they could hear the guns firing across the Channel in France.

Accommodation was in rooms equipped with three iron cots, straw-filled mattresses and pillows, and small bedside cabinets. There was only cold running water for washing and shaving. Diagrams showed precisely how beds were to be prepared each morning for inspection, including the layout required of their worldly possessions.

Daily routine was intense drilling and PT. Eventually the cadets were issued with Lee Enfield .303 rifles and bayonets. It dawned on them that should they fail to learn to fly, they would be part way to being trained soldiers. Harry was assigned to the Rifle Brigade, and even had his Regimental number in the event he was dropped from flying training.

The course syllabus expanded to include aviation-related topics, engines, airframes, military law etc, but marching and rifle drill continued. (Ed – reminiscient of Junior Entries at RAFC Cranwell in the late 50s) Eventually they went to London for the aircrew medical. Tests included standing on one leg with the eyes closed, arms extended. This could be practised beforehand. Then there was the whirling chair followed by the examinee trying to walk a straight line. This could not be practised. Another test that could be practised – on a table was a flat board about 14 inches long with a spike at one end, standing upright on the board on its flat base. The test was to pick the board up and replace it without knocking the spike off its base.

Other tests included blowing a column of mercury up a scale, and other normal medical checks of eyes, ears etc. At the end of the examination, Harry was graded “Passed fit for Pilot”. He was now permitted to put the Flight Cadet symbol of the white band around his uniform cap. The people who had passed to carry on training were pretty pleased with themselves, but were brought back to reality when the arrived at the nearby railway station for the return to St Leonards. Unfortunately, the next train was not until the morning, and the group spent the night trying to sleep on the platform.

To be continued.

[Fareastdriver]

Brill! Can't wait.

[Wwyvern]

Continuation 1

October 1917. The Cadet Wing training syllabus consisted of foot drill, military law, organisation, Morse code, guard duty etc. When part way through the course, the cadets qualified for officer-pattern uniforms bought from Gieve’s and Co of Saville Row by way of a uniform allowance of £50. Gieves’s representative visited the Cadet Wing to measure and take orders.The officers’ cap was wedge-shaped, and was generally called the “slit arse” cap. At the end of this phase of training there were examinations. Harry passed the exams and was posted to No 5 School of Aeronautics at Denham, Bucks. The locations of the other Schools were not disclosed.

The Denham School was a hutted camp, with hangars and a real aeroplane, a BE2e of 1913 vintage. More aviation-related ground training continued, including once-a-week drilling, aerial navigation, compass theory, theory of flight, map reading and rigging of aeroplanes. There were at least 10 different engines to learn about, all of them fitted with propellers and set up on beds of concrete so that the cadets could start and run them. The Lewis and Vickers machine guns were studied and fired.

This was the first school in which the cadets had their meals at tables which had tableclothes, and meals were served by members of the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps. This was pretty overpowering for a 17-year-old.

In the third week of the course, Harry’s colleagues had to endure two weeks of isolation because one of their number contracted measles. Course tutors did keep in contact and an interim test was set to see how much of the original studying had been assimilated. After the isolation period, Harry’s group were reunited with their fellows, and had then to cram to catch up.

The final examinations were prepared and set at the behest of the Air Board, and the exam papers were brought from London. The exam papers were identified only by numbers, no names. Three days after the exams were taken, the cadets were paraded to hear the numbers read out of those who had failed. Harry’s number, 11, was not read out, and the parade disolved in chaos as the cadets who had passed threw their caps in the air and hugged each other.

The soldier-pattern uniforms were exchanged for flying kit; a full length leather coat, sheepskin flying boots which reached the waist, rather like a fisherman’s waders, leather flying helmet, pair of goggles, silk inner gloves and leather gauntlets. Then the students were assigned to the type of aeroplane they were to fly; scout, bomber or artillery observation. Harry was assigned to a day bomber squadron, and he was to move to Boscombe Down for training. He and five others travelled to Amesbury by train, and on to No 6 Training Depot Squadron and a tented camp. No sooner had the group been allocated their tents than the flu epidemic which was raging in the country hit 60% of the camp occupants. After a few days, people felt better, and the group discovered that they were posted to “A” Flight. They met their instructor and were introduced to the procedures which applied to their Flight. The instructors had all been in France.

Harry took his first flight on 30 Nov 1917 in an Armstrong Whitworth biplane with a 200hp Beardmore stationary engine. His abiding memory of this 15 minute flight was how the airstream buffeted him, entering his goggles and causing his eyes to water. (Ed- funnily enough, this was exactly what I felt on my first training flight in a Tiger Moth in 1956. Soon learned to have the goggles pulled tightly around my face!) Harry recalls that he was quite uncomfortable and perhaps a little scared of the whole thing.

The next few weeks were taken up with more groundschool, and firing the aircraft machine guns from aircraft fuselages on the ground. The group’s instructor was not keen on instructing, and used his students as bowlers so that he could practise his batting in the nets. Their flying time was very low, and someone senior had noticed their lack of progress. They were assigned to the Wing Examining Officer, a Captain Oliver. Each student flew with Capt Oliver in turn, flying in an Avro, which was equipped with a Gosport Tube. Four of the group, including Harry, passed, one was sent to observer school and one “washed out”.

The four were assigned to a new instructor, Lieutenant Keevil, who was very keen, and they all began to make progress. There was much activity on the aerodrome, and there were several instances of aircraft landing on top of aircraft on the ground. They were now flying a DH6. Harry was sent first solo on 13 Dec 17. He describes the first solo exercise as being a take-off, two level turns and a landing. (ED - I guess this is pretty much a description of a circuit.) He managed the take-off, the turns and the approach. He had difficulty controlling his speed during the landing, landed at speed and knocked a main wheel off. He slewed to a stop, but right-way up.
Lt Keevil trotted over to him, asked how he felt, to which the answer was, “Very well but not too happy.” There were two or three other DH6s sitting outside the hangar, and Lt Keevil got Harry into one, told him to get airborne again, but to stay overhead the aerodrome for 30 minutes and then land. This all happened without further incident. Harry was very conscious of at last being one of only a few hundred people who had piloted a heavier-than-air- machine up to that time.

He comments here that the RFC had suffered heavy losses in aircraft and pilots due to the Richthofen and similar Jagstaffel squadrons with their faster Fokker machines and the ability to fire their twin machine guns through their propeller arcs. On the British side, the Camels, SE5as and Bristol Fighters were just beginning to show their mettle and would more than hold their own during the Spring of 1918.

Life at the flying school remained very interesting, with tests to pass on the ground and in the air. The students (Ed- with their instructors? – it’s not clear) attempted “stunts” such as loops, spins and other manoeuvres, timidly at first. Harry refers to the “Falling Leaf”. He says it was spectacular to watch but difficult to perform.

He lists some of the flying tests required to be passed. There were three categories, only the first one of which he details. To cover the other tests, in the operational aircraft, would have taken up too much time and space. The “Flying Standard” test requirements were:-

Three sustained turns in each direction, with and without engine, the bank to be 45 degrees or over.

Sharp figures of eight. Climbing turn to right and left.

Stall the machine with and without engine.

Sideslip in either direction, and land off a sideslip.

Spin, half roll and loop.

Confident and reliable in clouds, rough weather or on a forced landing. Understand the theory of crosswind landing.

The “service-type” aircraft were the types which the students would fly in France after graduating. In Harry’s case this was the DH9, and the tests were based on the training provided on type, ie air firing of the machine gun (there was a forward firing Vickers gun and a rear-firing, observer-controlled, Lewis gun), and dropping bombs which were carried on racks under the lower wing.

The DH9 was capable of flying to 15,000ft in 45 minutes, the altitude at which they were flown over enemy lines on the Continent. This was without oxygen and parachutes. Harry questions the reasoning for denying pilots and observers of aeroplanes the parachute, while observers in kite balloons were equipped with them. One reason, he understood, was the authorities believed that pilots and observers with parachutes would have baled out in the event of an emergency, real or imaginery. He says, “A sad commentary on the result of some idiot thinking in the higher echelons of the Royal Flying Corps!”

He reminiscences on the “glamour” of being an RFC pilot, “the aura surrounding the life, the pretty girls who flocked around the khaki-clad wing-sprouting hero. We loved it, strutted around like young gamecocks.” (Ed – I thought it was only Hunter pilots to which this applied. I found out in later life it applied to all fighter and helicopter pilots.)

Harry goes on, however, about the other side of the picture; that of the casualties amongst the students, so many killed in training due to the incessant demands for replacements to fill the ranks of flyers killed in France and other theatres.

To be continued.

[Wwyvern]

Continuation 2 and Epilogue

He lists several students whom he knew who were killed during that period. One spun in from 1,000ft, one burned to death on the aerodrome, and others were killed in crashes, including at least one instructor.

As he neared the end of his training, his group was sent to Old Sarum. Here the training was war-like. They learned to fly in tight formation, five and sometimes 10 aircraft in the same formation, at up to 18,000ft. He considered that the students didn’t have enough time to perfect the art before being shipped out to France.

They flew the DH9s on photographic missions, being given a map reference of the object to be photographed. The camera was mounted on a bracket just to the left and rear of the pilot’s seat. The plates were changed by an air-driven motor with power from a tiny propeller. As the pilot pulled the control cord, the shutter was released and the plate changed ready for the next picture to be taken. He doesn’t say how the camera was aimed at the target.

They fired the Vickers machine gun by diving the aircraft at a ground target, pulling out of the dive at 500ft. They dropped bombs using a very primitive aiming system. In the plywood floor of the pilot’s cockpit in the DH9, 9a, and 4, in front of the joystick, a piece of bevelled glass was fitted flush with the floor. Across the glass were stretched three wires, marked 5,000, 10,000 and 15,000, relating to the altitude at which the aircraft was flying. This was the bomb sight. The pilot had to deduce the wind direction and fly into wind over his target. As soon as the target appeared in the site related to his altitude, he toggled the bomb. This could be 120 or 230lbs in weight, or the anti-personnel weapons of 25lbs. The latter were for low level distribution over the enemy hordes, not a favoutite target for the RFC crews.

Harry relates how the guns were fired through the propeller arc. “A thin copper tube, filled with oil, connected the lock of the machine gun to a cam mounted on the hub of the propeller. To put the oil under pressure to enable an impulse to be sent through the tube to the trigger of the gun a pump was installed in the cockpit on the right hand side. The pilot pointed the nose of the machine at the target, put the oil under pressure, squeezed the release on the handle of the joystick or control lever: thus when the cam rotating with the hub of the propeller sent an impulse through the oil tube, tripping the trigger, the gun was able to fire. Preparatory to taking off, the machine gun sights were lined up right with the centre of the propeller blade, thus when the bullet left the muzzle of the gun, the propeller had moved enabling the bullet to speed, presumably, to the target. A constant speed had to be maintained, either in the dive or when flying level, otherwise the bullets would strike the propeller …..All this sounds complicated, but the guns did work. Of course, inevitably there were accidents, such as those caused when the pilot forgot to clear his gun of the round which was in the breech which, when the propeller was touched after the machine had landed, resulted in a very loud report and the passage of the bullet through the hangar, missing someone or other by inches. This happened quite often, despite numerous warnings --- another hazard of war.”

Harry was able to take leave over the Christmas period at the end of 1917. When he returned to Old Sarum it was to a new instructor. He had been returned to UK from France because of sickness and fatigue. There was no system of so many missions and you were returned to a safer job, as was the case in WW2. In WW1, crews flew on until death in action, wounds or nervous breakdown.

Soon the group had completed all their tests, both ground and in the air, and were completing all arrangements for deployment to France, documentation, inoculations, vaccinations and waiting for their names to appear in the london Gazette. With the appearance of this notification on the Wing Orderly Room notice board, it was official that they were Second Lieutenants, and were entitled to wear the silver wings of the RFC.

He notes that Second Lieutenants in the RFC were paid £5-12-6 per week plus 12 shillings per day flying pay for each day on which they flew. This seemed a good deal to an 18 year old.

Soon the four remaining in the group were transported to France by ferry from Southampton. They arrived at Le Havre, and took a train to St Omer, the HQ of the RFC in France. They were posted to 99 Squadron as replacements to fill the losses which all the day bomber squadrons were experiencing, from the only source available, the hastily half-trained pilots being rushed through the training squadrons in Britain. Harry’s solo flying time was 13hrs 40mins, of which 5hrs were on the operational DH9.

He says, “Squadron 99 was a member of the Independent Air Force, 8th Brigade. The IAF had been formed by General Trenchard on orders from the War Office with the express purpose of dropping bombs on the German people in retaliation for the raids by Zeppelins and Gothas on the British people.

There were 9 squadrons in the 8th Brigade of the RFC, and they flew a variety of aircraft – DH4, DH9, DH9a, Handley Pages (with four engines), FE2b (pusher type) and FE2c (ditto) – the role of the squadrons being that the De Havilland types dropped their bombs during the day whilst the Handley Pages and FEs dumped their bombs at night.”

99 Sqn had been formed in August 1917, somewhere in the English midlands, and from that date until my uncle’s group joined the squadron in February 1918, they had had four COs. From the time Harry joined 99, the squadron flew 76 raids on German targets; he flew on 34 of these. They dropped 61 tons of bombs on railway yards,, stations, munition works, targets they sometimes couldn’t see, so bombs were dropped from as low as 8,000ft on a Very Light signal from the formation leader. Harry records that it was very cold, and expressed sympathy for his observer, who had to stand in the rear cockpit completely exposed to the slipstream, “trying to keep alert to spot hostile Jerry fighters who literally swarmed around us, looking for lame ducks who, with faltering engines, couldn’t keep up with the leader.”

“It was all so confusing, at times I wondered what it was all about, only to be brought back to reality very smartly by the appearance of bullet holes through the wings and canvas of the fuselage.”

He comments on the constant westerly winds, meaning that the returning aircraft always had to fight against it to return to Azelot, his base, and how welcoming the aerodrome looked each time he returned. “I’m afraid I wasn’t a hero by any means. I was always thankful to get down in one piece, and dreaded the next effort we had to make. I suppose it was natural in a way. I had never encountered death in any form until I commenced to fly, and then saw the chaps being killed in training. Those deaths seemed to be part of the scheme of things, but here in France, there was the hazard of flying machines equipped with unreliable engines, the half-trained skills of some of us pilots, the appalling fear of getting lost and flying into the Vosges Mountains plus the German Luftwaffe who had everything in their favour, the winds which always blew from the East and the added advantage of being able to stay on their own side of the trenches as we were always the attackers. Once in a while there would be an enemy air raid at night on our aerodrome … but they were few and far between, thank goodness.”

During the 76 raids by his squadron, 12 enemy aircraft were claimed as shot down, either Albatros or Halberstadt, with an additional 7 aircraft being seen to go down out of control; these could not be claimed as “kills”.

To illustrate the wasteage of crews, on 20 May 1918, there were 42 pilots and observers on 99 squadron. By 25 July 18, of those originals, there were 17 left. In addition, 19 pilots and observers were posted to home establishments, medically unfit or who couldn’t take the physical and mental punishment caused by flying daylight bombers over Germany. (Ed’s note – what a contrast to what the ground forces had to endure.) Other squadrons were as badly off. The CO of 104 Sqn between May and November 1918 had to go non-operational because of his losses. 55 Sqn lost 18 aeroplanes in 49 raids, and 110 Sqn was virtually shattered in 5 raids.

When the Armistice came, everyone was so relieved. They were full to the eye teeth with flying over Germany and they found it hard to realise how fortunate they all were to have survived. They did very little celebrating, fired a few Very Lights and drank a little and felt a little disconcerted that there would be no bombing in the morning.

99 Squadron was disbanded, and its personnel returned to Home Establishment. The RFC and RNAS had been absorbed in the fledgling Royal Air Force and the 29,000 pilots and observers were offered permanent commissions in the Royal Air Force. Harry decided against that, and in May 1919, he was once more a civilian.

Epilogue

Finding it difficult to obtain work in Britain, around 1920 he moved to Australia, taking advantage of the assisted passage system. There he did casual work, mainly in the outback, often on farms and including sheep shearing. In 1929 he moved to Canada, again finding casual work, until more permanent work was available in a sanitorium in Kamloops. He joined the equivalent of the TA, the militia, and was commissioned into the Rocky Mountain Rangers. When World War 2 broke out, the militia was mobilised, and after much guarding of bridges etc all over western Canada, the RMR joined with a USA force to storm Kiska, an island in the Aleutian chain which had been occupied by the Japanese. The assault began in August 1943. The amphibius landing was unopposed because, unbeknownst to the Allies, the Japanese had departed 12 days earlier. They spent several months exercising and training on Kiska, returning to Canada in January 1944. Shortly thereafter, they were mobilised and sent to Britain. The battalion was in England on D Day, and was tasked with providing reinforcements/replacements to the Armies on the Continent. He was eventually sent to HQ 4th Division near Brussels and was appointed to command an infantry company in the armoured division, which post he held until the War was over.

He returned to England as was a member of the organisation set up to oversee the repatriation of the Canadian soldiery. On 3 Jan 1946 he was promoted to Lt Col, and awarded an MBE. Shortly after, it was his turn to go home to Canada. He remained in the militia, eventually commanding his battalion. When he retired from his sanatorium work, he and his wife travelled extensively. I remember them visiting my home in Scotland when I was young, and twice they visited my family when I served in the Far East. They continued to travel until they were too old.


The End

[green granite]

What a great tale Wwyvern, really must re-read "Sagittarius Rising"

[Pom Pax]

I have asked this before but this seemed a likely thread to repeat the request.

My father always said he was in the R.F.C.and therefore a founder member of the R.A.F. I have down loaded his R.A.F. record but where do I look for R.F.C. records?

What I have got says:-
C.D.D. on 22-4-18. What was C.D.D.?
Medical board "Fit as Pilot" 6-6-18.
Transfers to 10TTW 25-7-18 What was 10 TTW? Was it at Hastings? He was there.
Transfers to 5 S of A (169) 14-10-18. No. 5 School of Aeronautics (Denham)
Transferred to Class G R.A.F. Reserve 12-1-19.

I know he original volunteered for the R.F.C (his 18th birthday was 5-4-17) but then was deferred (family farming). To many troops and not enough land workers but later heavy losses reverse the ratio and he is called up. He is supposed to join the Army but manages to bribe the Sgt ten bob to reinstate his original application.

[November4]

Pom Pax that is a set of questions probably best asked on The war in the air: Great War Forum (http://1914-1918.invisionzone.com/forums/index.php?showforum=25) that Amiri01 mentioned previously

[teeteringhead]

Wonderful tale Wwyvern, didn't realise flying was in your blood before you became a Hunter pilot (and then a proper one!! ;)). My favourite RFC story dates from just before I joined the RAF in the (very) late 60s.

I was ushered into an old man living a few doors away, who lived over the sweet shop his wife ran. He was Mr Walker (senior citizens didn't have Christian names for teenagers to know in those days), who had been an RFC pilot himself, and had asked to see me - he never went out of the house. Part of the conversation was as follows:

Mr W: I hear you're joining the RAF as a pilot?

TTH: Yes Mr Walker (or probably Sir!)

Mr W: Do they still talk about "dog fights" in the RAF?

TTH: I believe they do .....

cue paroxysm of emphysemic cough/laugh from Mr W.

Mr W: We never really called them that. We called them "dog fcuks". Think about it! When dogs fight, they go head to head. But when they fcuk, one tries to get behind the other - like we did with Jerry (or possibly "the Hun").

TTH: So why "dog fight"?

Mr W: Some reporter chap from the Times was visiting the Squadron - heard us talking about "dog fcuks". Brilliant story he says, but I'll have to call them something else......

I do so hope the story is true. Don't think I've heard it anywhere else. Mr Walker (still don't know his first name) died a very few years later, and left me a gold and blue enamelled RFC tie pin .....

[Wwyvern]

TTH,

Yes, I had heard that REAL Gentlemen wear tie pins. I never did work out why I'd been left out of the Northern exercise. Probably because I was not Gentleman enough?

[teeteringhead]

I never did work out why I'd been left out of the Northern exercise. Probably because I was not Gentleman enough? ... not at all - we were just worried about the competition socially ........:E