E-J, your Dad, my pilot.
Anna,
I have been watching this thread for a few days and wondering whether I should contribute. I also realised that your Dad would have been 65 this year which in itself is frightening because when we first met I think he was a mere 27 years old.
I flew with E-J when I was a student on the Vixen training squadron, 766 NAS, and he was an instructor. I then did a short spell on 893 NAS on HMS Hermes before she was decommissioned in 1970. I was then despatched to 899 NAS to join HMS Eagle's air group. It was my good fortune to be crewed with E-J for the latter part of 1970 until around February 1971 when I suspect he left 899 to go to the States.
Your Dad was the only fighter pilot I ever knew who could do an hour's air combat at fairly constant high g and lots of aggressive manoeuvring and climb out of the aircraft without a trace of perspiration or exertion. More importantly, no sweat or otherwise, we invariably won. E-J and I shared an experience in a Sea Vixen that is worth relating and before I start the story I should say that the events I relate reflect no criticism of E-J's flying skills, indeed exactly the opposite because with a less capable pilot I suspect we may have left this particular Sea Vixen to its own ends in the Irish Sea. My log book entry merely says: 25 Jan 1971-XN657-Lt Eyton-Jones-Low Level Intercepts, diverted RAF Valley-1hr50mins. This was the final day of HMS Eagle's work up in UK waters before heading for the Mediterranean.
E-J and I had launched off Eagle mid afternoon to do low level radar intercepts against another Sea Vixen in the Irish Sea. Because the Vixen radar could not see targets well looking down against the sea, the recognised technique was for the fighter to fly low to pick up the target. It was a fairly rough January day over the Irish Sea and during the course of the sortie we accumulated a fair amount of salt spray on the windscreen. The Sea Vixen dispersed rain from the windscreen with a hot air blowing system...no wipers, no washers. This did nothing to remove the salt layer, but that was OK E-J could see well enough to get us home to “mother” with no problem. All was well until we turned finals for the deck and came back to landing speed, this raised the nose and this combined with the fact that the ship was steaming straight into the setting sun turned the slightly opaque windscreen into a white sheet through which E-J could see absolutely nothing. He called for a voice talkdown, this was a practised procedure whereby the landing sight officer (LSO) gave instructions over the radio to allow you to land on the deck when you could not see the “landing sight”.
We missed the wires on the first 2 attempts to land and before the final approach E-J and I discussed the fact that if we missed the next time we needed to divert to RAF Valley. On the 3rd approach we were about 400 yards from the back of the deck when the LSO's radio failed....Flyco (the ultimate authority over deck operations) decided that we were too close to safely be instructed to “wave off” or go around. Instead he took over the talkdown but without the accurate references available to the LSO. The net result was that we came over the back end further right than we should have been, only about 22ft but it shows the accuracy required. I was aware that we were further right than I had ever seen before through my back seater's small window by my right knee. We both felt a thump but the aircraft was still moving at 130 knots or so, everyone had stopped talking on the radio, I started to eject but then thought better of it as I managed to see aspects of the deck which were familiar. I called our speed and a heading to RAF Valley as we left the front of the carrier. We had concluded that we were flying and E-J was in control of the aircraft, having shared a few expletives and the fact that we had both nearly ejected. About now Flyco called “Don't eject, don't eject...check your hydraulics you have lost half your starboard wing.”
Helpful! We set off for Valley and decided we didn't have enough fuel to get there unless we raised the undercarriage to reduce our fuel consumption. So E-J selected undercarriage up at which point the aircraft turned itself violently upside down, he regained control by putting the undercarriage down again and we proceeded to land at RAF Valley very short of fuel, having found a rain shower on the way to wash the windscreen. The fact that we got this wreck safely on the ground at RAF Valley was entirely thanks to your Dad's innate skills in an aircraft, his reactions in a truly life threatening situation were instinctive and intuitive…and right. He wasn't even perspiring when we landed off this one. Some after the event issues; A Sea Vixen pilot cannot see the end of the wings from the cockpit, so it was only after we landed at Valley that we saw what we had done. 8ft of the starboard wing was missing and the aileron was hanging vertically down behind the starboard undercarriage leg...hence turning upside down when we tried to raise the gear. We got a bol****ing from OC Flying at Valley for not declaring an emergency...we thought the ship had told them. Everyone at Valley seemed to have given up smoking and we couldn't scrounge a fag from anyone. Eagle sent a helicopter to take us back on board and upon alighting on the flight deck we were instructed to report to the Captain on the bridge.
His words will live with me forever; “Not your fault E-J, bit of a c**k up in here.” Turning to me he said “So you're a crab are you, that will show you what the Navy's all about. Pair of you go and see the Doc.” We had hit a Buccaneer, a fork lift truck, 2 Sea Vixens and another Buccaneer during our brief excursion along the deck of Eagle. The Doc was a famous FAA doctor whose name I will not mention. He took our pulses and blood pressures and determined that we were a bit excited, opened his desk drawer, removed a bottle of brandy and said “Drink half of that between you and I'll declare you fit to fly in the morning.” He did, and we did.
Anna, your Dad was the most convincing and capable fighter pilot I ever flew with, and I flew with a lot over the next 25 years.
Qwin