Never do short field crosswind landings in a Wirraway.

[Centaurus]

With advancing years one does not bound up several flights of stairs anymore. My local library has just two flights of stairs and that’s about all I can handle before having to sit down once in the library and get my breath back. It was then I noticed a line of new books; the title of one which caught my eye. It was called Kokoda Air Strikes - Allied Air Forces in New Guinea, 1942. The author was Anthony Cooper and it was published in 2014.

In 1942 I was only 10 years old and had never heard of Kokoda, let alone New Guinea. In any case, I was living in England at the time and more engrossed in watching German and British fighters mixing it in dog-fights over my home in Kent. Pilots descending by parachutes and aircraft of both sides in terminal dives streaming smoke and flames were common sights in those days.

After migrating to Australia in 1947 I considered myself extremely fortunate to get selected for RAAF pilot training in 1951 despite marginal school exam results. The Korean war was on and the RAAF needed new pilots urgently otherwise I doubt if I would have got in. Over the next 18 years I flew to New Guinea and the Solomon Islands, visiting many former wartime aerodromes that had been used by Japanese and Allied forces. Kokoda airstrip was one of them. Hence my immediate interest last week (October 2014) in borrowing the book on the Kokoda campaign. It turned out to be one of the finest wartime history books I have ever read, made all the more interesting because of the place names I had since visited. Even the names of RAAF pilots mentioned in the book seemed familiar to me because they were still in the RAAF when I graduated with my `Wings`at Point Cook in December 1952.

While reading page 299, the following paragraph got my attention. It was about a flight of RAAF P-40 Kittyhawk fighters attacking the Japanese held base at Buna on the northern coast of New Guinea in July 1942. In part, the author wrote: “Once over the target, the Australian CO, Squadron Leader Peter Turnbull was about to lead the seven P-40’s down into their bombing runs when he spotted eight enemy fighters above. The Australians jettisoned bombs, broke right and dived for the water at full throttle. Even at maximum boost, the diving P-40’s only gradually left the Zeroes behind in a 160-kilometre- long chase, but in doing so the Australian pilots maintained their fuel- guzzling emergency power settings for so long that four of them could not make it back to Moresby.

Three, including Turnbull landed on the unfinished airfield at Milne Bay to refuel, while Flight Lieutenant Vernon “Slam” Sullivan tried to make it back to Moresby but ran out of fuel and glided in for a wheels-down landing in a dry creek bed short of the unfinished strip at 30-Mile.” (the airstrips at Moresby had names like 5-Mile and 10-Mile).

The name “Slam” Sullivan caught my attention as it seemed familiar from 1952 at No 1 Advanced Flying Training School at Point Cook. I soon found my flying log book of that era and there was his name and mine together. It was on 25 November 1952, the aircraft was Wirraway A20-214 and it was my `Wings` test conducted by the CFI Squadron Leader V. “Slam” Sullivan. There are two reasons why I remembered that day. Firstly I managed to pass the test and was awarded the Pilots Brevet. Secondly, it was what happened at the end of the test. After having gone through stalls, spins, practice forced landings, aerobatics and several circuits, the CFI took over control and announced he would make the final landing. I relaxed in the front seat of the Wirraway to learn from the Master. After all, he was the CFI. I never knew about his war record in New Guinea ten years earlier.

Standard operating procedure at RAAF training schools required the pilot to clear the airstrip after landing, then stop so that the after landing drills could be completed without the distraction of taxiing. Wirraways were a tail-wheel aircraft and the view over the engine cowl was poor which is why the pilot needed to taxi in a weaving style to check all clear in front. Same with Tiger Moths and Mustangs. At Point Cook, the CFI did an exemplary landing on Runway 22 from the back seat of the Wirraway (no mean feat) and after slowing down he carefully turned towards the tarmac at the taxiway opposite the control tower. Clear of the runway he braked to a stop and told me to go through the after landing checks. No sooner had I started to go through the drills when the Sergeant air traffic controller called on VHF and asked if we could move further clear of the runway due to someone close behind us. Before I could say anything, the CFI “Slam” Sullivan said to the controller “I am the Chief Flying Instructor and I stop wherever I like on this airfield.”

I was flabbergasted and so was the air traffic controller who could only reply meekly “Yessir.” The CFI then told me to continue with my after landing drills. Of course the CFI’s tone of voice and blatant supercilious attitude was beyond the pale but it sure impressed me. I decided then and there I wanted to be a Squadron Leader one day with all that power. Now I knew why he was called “Slam” Sullivan.

“Slam’s” rank-pulling was in marked contrast to my first Wirraway trip at Point Cook just three months earlier. While I had flown 60 hours on Wirraways at No 1 Basic Flying Training School at Uranquinty NSW, all that had been on a grass field with no runways. Point Cook was to be the first time I had ever landed on a runway. So on 13 August in Wirraway A20-101, I was rostered to fly with Squadron Leader Caryl Noble, DFC, who was the flight commander at No 1 AFTS. ‘Nobby” Noble, as he was affectionately known was one of nature’s real gentlemen. He was awarded the DFC after flying Mustangs against Communist forces in Korea. Again I flew from the pilot’s seat up front while Nobby Noble took the instructor seat in rear cockpit. The view from the rear cockpit of a Wirraway is dismal, as I was to find out later when I became a flying instructor.

Having never flown from Point Cook before, I was shown the limits of the training area, then some aerobatics and spinning and back to Point Cook for circuits on the runway. There was a 15 knot wind across the runway when Nobby asked me to conduct a short field landing. In those days a short field landing entailed approaching barely above the stall. In addition there was no stall warning device. If any sort of crosswind existed it took considerable flying skill to land the aircraft as well as control the tendency to swerve once the tail was down. It was said in those days that if you could fly a Wirraway, then you could fly just about anything. I would attest to that. Nevertheless this was going to be my first ever landing on a runway and that with a crosswind and short field approach.

I chickened out and asked the instructor if he could take over and demonstrate the crosswind short field landing as I had not landed on a runway before. To my relief Nobby Noble cheerily said OK he would do the landing. Thank Christ for that, I thought to myself. It would not be a good look for my career if I stuffed up my first landing attempt at No 1 AFTS. As I said before, landing from the back seat of a Wirraway is not easy in the best of conditions and a crosswind only up’s the ante. Nobby had a Distinguished Flying Cross so I sat back to watch him do some distinguished flying. He nailed the approach but flared too high and was in the process of trying to correct for the wind when one wing dropped sharply and hit the runway causing the severe damage to the wingtip. It was the classic Wirraway stall with wing drop that I had practiced numerous times both dual and solo but always at a safe altitude.

With much ruddering to keep straight, Nobby finally slowed up the Wirraway and let me taxi it to the tarmac with one mangled wingtip bent upwards at 45 degrees. It was Nobby who spoke first to me through the intercom. “Well there you are Trainee Centaurus, you were dead right – not the right time to do short field landings in crosswinds.” I must say I felt absurdly grateful that Nobby displayed such a delightful sense of humour. He was a far cry from my next instructor at No 1 AFTS who had the reputation of being a screaming skull. But that’s a story for another day.