One of the best known personalities to be trained on Cornells with the Rhodesian Air Training Group (RATG) during the war is Tony Benn. Tony Benn was Labour MP for Bristol South-East for 31 years and in 1943 joined the R.A.F. for training as a pilot.
He was posted to Southern Rhodesia for pilot training and the entry below is for 14th June 1944, the day of his first solo in a Cornell PT-26 trainer at No. 26 EFTS Guinea Fowl not far from Gweru (Gwelo) in the middle of the colony.
Wednesday 14 June 1944
At six this morning Crownshaw told me to get into 322 straightaway, a PT-26 Cornell trainer. I apologised to him for boobing the check yesterday and he remarked thet were really only nominal things and that they didn’t really matter.
We taxied on to the tarmac and I got out and walked back with Crownshaw. He said we’d just have a cigarette and then go up again. I was very surprised, but put it down to a desire on his part to finish me off ready for another check tomorrow. However, we took off, did a circuit or maybe two, and then as we taxied up to the take-off point, he said to me, ‘Well, how do you feel about your landings?’ I replied, ‘Well, that’s really for you to say, sir.’ He chuckled. ‘I think you can manage one solo,’ he said. ‘I’m going to get out now and I’ll wait here for you,’ he went on.
So this was it, I thought. The moment I had been waiting for came all of a sudden just like that. ‘OK, sir,’ I replied. ‘And don’t forget that you’ve got a throttle,’ he said. ‘Don’t be frightened to go round again -OK? And by the way,’ he added -he finished locking the rear harness and closing the hood, then came up to me, leant over and shouted in my ear, ‘you do know the new trimming for taking off?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ I replied, and he jumped off the wing and walked over to the boundary with his ‘chute.
I was not all that excited. I certainly wasn’t frightened and I hope I wasn’t over-confident but I just had to adjust my mirror so that I could really see that there was no one behind me.
Then I remembered my brother Mike’s words: ‘Whatever you do don’t get over-confident; it is that that kills most people and I only survived the initial stages through being excessively cautious.’ So I brought my mind back to the job, checked the instruments, looked all around and when we had reached 500 feet began a gentle climbing turn. It was very bumpy and the wind got under my starboard wing and tried to keel me over, but I checked it with my stick and straightened out when my gyro compass read 270 degrees. Then I climbed to 900, looked all round and turned again on to the down-wind leg. By the time I’d finished that turn we were at 1,000 feet, so I throttled back, re-trimmed, got dead on 180 and I felt pretty good about things.
I thought I was a little high as I crossed the boundary so I eased back to 800 rpm, and as I passed over, I distinctly saw Crownshaw standing watching where I had left him. Now we were coming in beautifully and I eased the stick and throttle back. A quick glance at the ground below showed me to be a little high, so I left the stick as it was, gave a tiny burst of engine and as we floated down I brought both back fully. We settled, juddered and settled again for a fair three-pointer.
I was as happy as could be. I taxied up, stopped and braked. Try as I did, I couldn’t restrain the broad grin which gripped me from ear to ear and Crownshaw, seeing it, leant over before he got in and said ironically with a smile, ‘Happy now?’
I was more than happy, I was deliriously carefree, and as he taxied her back I thought about it all and realised that the success of my first solo was entirety due to the fine instruction I had received; it was a tribute to the instruction that I never felt nervous once, and all the time had imagined what my instructor would be saying, so used had I got to doing everything with him behind me. We climbed out, and attempting to restrain my happiness I listened while he told me where and what to sign. Then I wandered back to my billet and one of the greatest experiences of my life was behind me. The lectures were pretty ordinary, and it being my free afternoon I had a bit of lemonade in the canteen and wrote this
His diaries can be viewed online here:
The Benn Diaries: 1940-1990 - Tony Benn - Google Books