Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II

[tow1709]

Memoirs of a WW-II Typhoon pilot - part 15

Peter Brett's story continues...

After my first solo on the Typhoon I was expecting perhaps a few hours practice flying and then to start on operations. But no! In the first place, the squadron moved from Harrowbeer to Tangmere on 3rd August and my second flight did not take place until the 8th. From then until the 11th September I accumulated some 17 hours Typhoon time doing things like low level cross-country flights in formation, tail chases, close formation, battle formation flying and air-to-air gunnery practice.
Just as I was expecting once again to start operations the squadron was again posted. On the 18th August we moved to Perranporth in Cornwall. The airfield here was perched on the cliffs above Perranporth and one runway finished at the edge of the cliff overlooking the beach. When landing on this runway, in either direction, there were things to be remembered. If landing from inland towards the beach you had to remember that it would be very unwise to run out of runway on landing since, instead of some rough grass after the end of the runway there was only empty space until you hit the beach some eighty feet below! When landing from the beach end it was well to remember that, if the wind was of any respectable strength, there was a vicious down draft just before you crossed the edge of the cliff (which was also the end of the runway). It was advisable to come in a bit high and fairly steeply. Fortunately the Typhoon had some of the gliding characteristics of a house brick so that with full flap and a closed throttle the angle of descent was quite steep. The aircraft with its very thick wing section lost height very rapidly, even in the normal flying attitude, well before the stalling speed was approached.
Much later I had a vivid demonstration of the difference between the way the aircraft was pointing and the direction it was traveling when doing low level rocket attacks. I remember pulling out of a dive over the river Seine just east of Le-Havre where the river is in a gorge. I had dived on some barges and fired the rockets. I then pulled out with plenty of 'g'. As I did so I looked out right at the gorge side and was able to see that, although I thought I was at least maintaining height, I was in fact still going down! Luckily I was able to climb away again having come within some twenty feet of having wet feet. That however was much later.