Your story about the engine oil pressure gauges reminds me of a characteristic the Puma HC1 helicopter sometimes had in the early days.
The engine fire detectors were a series of bi-metallic switches that would close when the engine bay temperature reached a certain level. Helicopters do not have the luxury of a constant flow of air though the engine bay so sometimes it gets very hot. In a downwind the situation can arise where the recirculating air can cause the temperature to rise sufficiently to illuminate the fire warning light even though there is not a fire and so it was with this aircraft.
I had a VIP on board; a staff officer of Air Rank who had come to see how we operated in Northern Ireland. He seemed incredibly keen as he had done all his weapon training and arrived looking like Rambo. It seemed a shame to put him on a milk run so I strapped him into my jump seat between we two pilots and we punched off down south to Armagh.
We were going to do a changeover shuttle between Bessbrook and Crossmaglen. The latter was right in the middle of the Republican area of Ulster and was a hotbed for the IRA. We took off from Bessbrook with a compliment of squaddies and I explained to him that we had a two hundred foot ceiling in this area because of SAM 7s and small arms. I also pointed out that we were weaving around the topography and forestry for the same reason. All this at 145 knots.
The Army post in Crossmaglen was in the police station on the north-eastern corner of the Shinty ground. The prevailing, south westerly wind was blowing and as it was unwise to approach over the town itself it meant a downwind approach and landing across the Shinty field. The Puma had no trouble with this so I flared off the speed and plonked it onto the landing pad. The crewman opened the doors and we started a high speed passenger changeover.
That’s when both fire lights came on.
The reaction of my co-pilot and myself was similar, a resigned grunt, but our Air Officer went ballistic. He was punched me on the shoulder and frantically pointing at the fire lights. I tried to reassure him but he was having nothing of it. He had obviously been in an environment where if the light isn’t put out in ten seconds you eject. Eventually I had to remind him that I was the captain, I knew what was going on with my aircraft and would he please shut up.
Or words to that effect.
It worked either because he understood my reasoning or he wasn’t expecting to be addressed that way by a Flight Lieutenant. I was fireproof; I had said ‘Sir’ twice.
The doors were then closed and the crewman cleared us to go. In the hover, half turn into wind and take off across the Shinty field. Halfway across the field both engine fire warning lights, as expected, faded out.
He was very good about it. He apologised for trying to tell me what to do and accepted wholeheartedly the correction that I had given him. I was quite happy. He had learned more about how we operated than any series of lectures of briefings could teach him.