I Remember
My introduction to aeroplanes came in the early 1950s when as an infant I was taken to play on the hulks of the old civil Halifaxes that were dumped on a dispersal just off the lane to Whelpley Hill. Several years later we moved to Ashley Green, a couple of miles from the airfield. I remember lying in bed in the mornings listening to the lovely sound of a fleet of C47s being warmed up across the valley before the day's flying.
School holidays were mostly spent perched atop the remains of the fenced hedge at the Chesham Road end of the runway. My pal David was usually with me - his dad had been a skipper at Bovingdon on Halifaxes and Yorks with LAC. We were always full of anticipation when the traffic lights turned red, we munched on our baked bean sandwiches and wondered what would turn up next. It could be very busy. I recall Globemasters (always a thrill), C54s ,C130s, once a B50, Packets, Providers ,Noratlas, Samaritans, Hastings, Shacks, Neptunes, Devons, Herons, Pembrokes, Varsitys, Valettas, Meteors, Vampires including one that overshot and ended up astride the Chesham Road, T33 and the Fouga Magister.
One foggy morning, much to our glee, a Shackleton landed short in the field before the runway. It roared snorting like an enraged bull over the Chesham Road and swept the fence away with its tailwheel up the runway.
What else do I remember? The squeaks of taxying C47s, the Pilots waving to us, the squeals of tyres on landing and the smell of newly mown grass blown on warm slipstreams. The song of Skylarks and the gargle of an Anson climbing up into the clear blue sky.
Last edited by OUAQUKGF Ops; 31st Mar 2011 at 09:25.