Pilot Training in WW2
At the end of the course I had logged 35 hours dual and 33 hours solo, with 8 hours on the Link Trainer, and we were posted to 14 SFTS at Cranfield. At Paddington the RTO said,
“14 SFTS are now at Lyneham. I know. I moved them two weeks ago!” So we entrained for Wootton Bassett.
Lyneham was a new grass field with a perimeter track, two hangars, new tarmac roads and temporary buildings, surrounded by a sea of yellow mud. We were in billets dotted around in fields, mostly with cattle which had churned the mud by the field gate to a depth of over a foot. We wore wellingtons most of the time, no parades, and carried our shoes out to the Oxfords to put on inside the aircraft. The wellingtons were put in sacks in the rear.
We rarely wore Flying Boots which were of black leather with green canvas inserts at the sides; the best flying boots we ever wore.
The billets were on either side of a corridor with two beds in a room. There was no electricity, but paraffin lamps with a weekly oil allowance which gave us about one hour a night, so we had to buy candles. Each room had a little coal stove but a very miserly coal ration, so raids on the coal dump became quite common. One cold water tap per site had been left in the ditch, so we usually shaved there to avoid the crowds in the ablutions on camp. There was only the overcrowded NAFFI in which to sit in the evening, so stayed in the huts where we could brew up, with plenty of milk from the cows nearby. We rarely moved off the camp, except on a day off when we hitched into Calne.
The previous course greeted us with, “for the first two weeks we had sausage meat at every meal, - except on the second Friday lunch, when we had sausages!” A very famous sausage factory was nearby in Calne.
Two static Airspeed Oxfords were jacked up in a hangar and here we had intensive exercises, in every aspect and emergency of flying. A final test, blindfolded, of 15 exercises had to be passed before being taken out to the aircraft for the first flight.
My instructor was a young Australian, P/O Wheaton. We taxied out to take -off and Wheaton said, “First check there are no aircraft in the circuit or the landing approach.”
I looked to my left and said, “One Oxford on the approach, NO! TWO, “ and at that moment the second Oxford ploughed into the first. There was a shower of what looked like falling leaves, then both aircraft fell on to the other side of the peri track, killing all four on board.
We had no radio, just one Gosport Tube so the instructor could speak to his pupil. but not the other way round. The pupil just shouted when necessary.
Wheaton said, “Turn into wind and line up for take off. Now open the throttles gently, counter-acting any swing.” So we took off, but there was no longer a Fire wagon nor an Ambulance.
Quite illegal, but who argues with his instructor?
We settled down to a 3 month course of twin engine flying, with 50 hours dual and 50 hours solo with 8 night landings. fredjhh