Hawker Typhoon pilot Peter Brett's story continues...
A few times I flew the station Hurricane out to the range and carried out my critical duties from this aircraft whilst cruising up and down the southern bank of the Severn. I usually stayed around for about 1½ hours and finished the time by doing a 'beat-up' of the range hut. I found a very effective manoeuvre was to dive down along the foreshore very low and the pull up violently at the bottom of the cliff where the range hut was situated. This resulted, depending on my angle of approach, in the range hut personnel being presented with either a side view or a plan view of a Hurricane shooting vertically into view about sixty feet in front of their windows!
On one occasion, from my log book it was on 23rd November 1944, I was asked to fly a Typhoon out to the range to see if the weather was good enough for practice bombing. The cloud base was about 1200 feet when I left Aston Down and gradually deteriorated as I approached the Severn where it was down to about 600 feet. I knew from the local meteorological reports that the cloud was much more broken further west, and since I did not fancy climbing up through the cloud until I was sure I was clear of any high ground I decided to follow the southern bank of the river westwards until I found broken cloud through which I would be able to climb without worry. With hindsight I realize that what I should have done was to head West down the middle of the Bristol Channel and climbed up over the water. However I followed the Southern bank of the river, flying very low, about 150 feet. Since I was watching the bank out of the port side and not my actual heading I was somewhat confused when more land started appearing to my starboard. A glance at the compass showed me my error. I was flying almost due South! I had been so busy concentrating on following the bank that I had turned up the mouth of the Avon river and was busy flying up the Avon gorge! A decision to climb up out of it was quickly discounted as I remembered that the Clifton suspension bridge was around somewhere. The cloud base was now below 200 feet and I was flying up what was virtually a tunnel formed by the cloud, the river, and the two sides of the gorge. I slowed down as much as possible but was still doing about 120 mph with 15 degrees of flap and in fine pitch. The Avon gorge is unfortunately not dead straight and it was quite nerve wracking trying to keep in the middle of the river and at the same time praying that the cloud base would not get any lower. After what seemed an eternity I saw ahead of me docks and buildings and realized that I had reached Bristol. Without more ado I slammed open to full throttle, upped the flaps and went into a steep climb on instruments.
Coming out of cloud at about 4000 feet I headed for Aston Down and very shortly found that the cloud was broken enough to descend safely and map read my way home. As soon as I arrived I went to the Wingco Flying and told him what had happened. After having a good laugh he told me not to worry and that, if he had any complaints, he would tell them that it was a special survey flight! I heard no more so I assumed that nobody had reported me. I have always been surprised at this since the Typhoon was quite a noisy aeroplane and to have one flying at less than 100 feet across a highly populated area like Bristol without anybody even bothering to complain was somewhat unusual.
Since all the instructors at Aston Down were 'on rest' there was a very relaxed atmosphere and any flying we did was fun. Most of us did 'beat up' approaches when returning to land at the airfield. (After having asked permission from flying control) which was seldom refused. I think the ground staff enjoyed the fun as much as the pilots and several times I was asked by ground staff members to 'beat up' specific places around the airfield so that they could tell their girlfriends, relatives etc. that they had arranged the surprise!
Whilst I was there, one of the pilots got married at Stroud parish church, and the rest of the instructors arranged a fly-past, low level of course, which was carefully timed with the aid of the mobile R/T van, to occur as they emerged from the church. The result was most spectacular and ear-shattering and also resulted in a cracked window in the church. The Vicar was somewhat upset but was mollified after being invited to lunch at the airfield where he was plied with beer and presented with a cheque for the church restoration fund. All twelve of us who took part in the fly-past contributed a fiver each and also 'took the hat round' to the rest of the station personnel. The final result was for well over 100 pounds which was no mean amount in those days and greatly exceeded the cost of replacing the cracked window.
Aston Down was also a base for the ATA (Air Transport Auxiliary) which was a semi-civilian organization which ferried aircraft around so that operational personnel were freed for combat duties. Most of the pilots were elderly, to us, being in their forties and fifties. However there were some younger ones who were female!
When any of us were going on leave we would always make a point of going to the ATA Flight Office to check if there were any flights scheduled which could help us on the way home. I was lucky in that I lived not too far from Northolt which was an Operational and Ferry station. I well remember on one occasion I was fortunate enough find an aircraft which was being ferried to Northolt on the morning that my leave was due to start.
I was told to report to the office at 0800 hours, where I was directed to climb into the Avro Lancaster 4-engined bomber which was parked outside. "Get into the navigators position and strap in, the pilot is just being briefed and will be along in a minute", the Ground Controller said. I dutifully did as I was told, after having had to find out from the ground crew how to get aboard and where the navigator's position was!
After waiting about five minutes I heard somebody clambering in and coming up the fuselage towards me. Turning round I found myself looking at a very attractive, petite brunette lady of about thirty. She was wearing ATA pilot's wings and carrying two things – a map and a set of Pilots Notes for the Lancaster. She gave me a dazzling smile, handed me the map and said, in a very attractive accent which I later found out was Polish, "You may as well have this. I don't think we will get lost as I am going to follow the railway all the way. By the way this is the first time I've flown a Lanc. so it will take me few minutes to get used to the cockpit layout"!! She then climbed up into the pilot’s seat and began a cockpit check referring now and then to the pilot's notes. I think the latter was partly for my benefit as, after starting the engines, she turned to look back at me, crossed her fingers and winked before commencing to taxi out.
The flight was quite uneventful, we did not get lost, and the landing at Northolt was as smooth as silk. I thanked her and congratulated her on the landing before leaving, and she rewarded me with another smile.
I cannot now remember her name but I was told later that she was a Polish Countess who had been flying aeroplanes since she was fifteen and probably had at least ten times as many flying hours as I did!
One other thing comes to mind regarding my stay at Aston Down. One day I was walking around the airfield, somewhat at a loose end for some reason, when I thought I would have a look at a hangar which I had not previously entered. It was deserted apart from one aircraft parked right at the back. I walked over to have a look at it. It had obviously been parked there for some long time since it was covered in dust and bird lime and no attempt had been made to keep it clean. It was a large single engined, single seater low wing monoplane which looked somehow familiar. It had a fixed undercarriage faired in by 'Spats' and a very thick wing section. It was enormous, even bigger than a Typhoon, and then it suddenly struck me that I seen it before.
I had previously seen it in 1939 or 1940 at Northolt when I was an Air Cadet! It had been parked then in a guarded hangar where we cadets were allowed a brief glimpse. It had then been newly gleaming and pristine. It was the prototype MB2 made by the Martin-Baker Aircraft Company in response to Ministry Specification 5/34. How it finally found its way to Aston Down and what happened to it afterwards I don't know, but it was certainly sad to see its neglected look after all those years.
During December the unit name was changed from 3 T.E.U. back to 55 O.T.U. for some reason. It must have been just at the end of December since I note that I had to alter 3 T.E.U. to 55 O.T.U. in my log book for the end of month totals.
At the end of December 1944 I had a couple of weeks leave, including Christmas, and was then posted back to 183 squadron for my second tour of operations.