First of all, thanks you for your brilliant story, Bergerie 1. Frightening stuff. What a stark difference between the flying skills displayed in that situation and the deadly instances of automation addiction or dependency that have been factors in loss of control in IMC where jet transports have crashed because their pilots simply couldn't fly.
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I was taught to fly in the RAAF. During low flying practice at 200 feet it was considered good airmanship to climb to a safe height of 1500 feet if changing over fuel tanks. Any mishandling of fuel tank selection, or air in the lines in single engine aircraft, leaves no room for error at 200 feet. One dark night over the Arafura Sea, that general SOP saved one Lincoln crew from a disaster. It happened like this:
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On 29 May 1955, my crew took part in an anti-submarine exercise in the Arafura Sea between the Darwin on the north coast of Australia and East Timor. With the exception of the navigator, Flight Lieutenant Warren Agnew, the rest of our ten man crew were non-commissioned officers (NCOs). In April 1943, Warren Bunny Agnew had previously flown as a Beaufighter navigator on operations against Japanese enemy forces in East Timor during WW2. Twelve years later he was back flying in the same general area; but this time in peacetime.
Two submarines and three frigates of the Royal Australian Navy also took part in the maritime exercise which was named Operation Anzex. Our job was to hunt the RAN submarines, while their job was to attack an imaginary convoy of ships escorted by the frigates. Our search pattern took us within 50 miles of East Timor.
There were several Lincolns involved, one of which was flown by Flight Lieutenant Ricky Tate. Ricky was my instructor on Lincolns based at Townsville. He had flown Mustangs just after the war and was also a Wirraway instructor during the time I had been a student on course.
Besides wing tanks holding 2850 imperial gallons of fuel, the Lincolns were equipped with two 400 gallon long range fuel tanks hung in the bomb bay, and giving the Lincoln 14 hours endurance. The bomb bay tanks required fancy plumbing and it was the job of the duty signaller to keep an eye on the bomb bay tank gauges which could not be readily seen from the pilots position. When required, the signaller would be called upon by the captain to manipulate the various cross-feed cocks under the main spar next to his radio operator position. On the occasion of this flight, and unknown to the crew at the time, an oversight by the ground staff at Darwin, meant the bomb bay fuel tanks had not been not filled up.
As mentioned earlier, the RAAF considered it good airmanship if flying at low level, to climb to 1500 feet before changing fuel cocks to a fresh tank. For this reason, at midnight during his patrol off the coast of Timor, Ricky Tate increased power on all four engines and climbed to 1500 ft prior to having the signaller switching on the bomb bay fuel tanks. Without any warning, one engine stopped, quickly followed by the remaining three engines. The captain called that all four engines had failed and ordered his crew to take up ditching stations.
Meanwhile, the Lincoln rapidly became a 30 ton glider and began to lose height towards the unseen sea. Sergeant Jim Chataway, the second pilot, who had been on rest beside the signaller, leapt to his feet and headed to the cockpit where Ricky Tate was trying to restart the engines and preparing for ditching. Behind the captain's position was the navigator and radar operator. Flight Lieutenant Ray Parkin (former wartime signaller) was the radar operator. To view the radar screen the operator had a large canvas cover over his head like those old time photographers. Before Ray could emerge from under his canvas cover to take up his ditching position, he found his face un-ceremoniously pushed into the radar screen by Chataways size 10 flying boot.
Chataway managed to turn off the bomb bay tank switches situated on the side wall of the fuselage next to the fuel contents gauges and which were out of reach of the captain in the left hand seat. Meanwhile, Ricky Tate attempted to re-start the engines. This was extremely difficult since the engine start buttons were on the co-pilots side and almost out of reach from the captains seat. The situation being that Tate was trying to fly the Lincoln glider with his left hand on the control wheel while stretching right over to the co-pilot side and trying to press 12 buttons with his right hand. There were three buttons for each engine for starting. One for priming, one for the starter and one for the high capacity spark booster. All this was happening in pitch dark and on instruments.
Once the bomb bay fuel pumps been turned off by Chataway, each engine slowly came back into life; the last engine coming alive at 500 feet above the waves.
No one knew why all four engines had failed and it was a relieved crew that finally touched down at Darwin, two hours later. An Inquiry later revealed that the two bomb bay fuel tank contents gauges were unserviceable with their needles stuck at full on the gauges.
When the ground staff went to fill the fuel tanks prior to the flight, they first checked the fuel gauges in the cockpit. On seeing the bomb bay tank gauges indicating full capacity, they decided the tanks must have already been filled. In fact, both tanks were empty, and the engines had failed when air from these tanks was drawn into the system by the bomb bay fuel tank switches.
The RAAF general advice on climbing to a safe height if fuel tank selections were needed while low flying, proved to be a wise policy.
As a humorous postscript to a serious story, I should add that the signaller had been true to the Annals of the Service. Later, over beers in the Darwin Sergeants Mess, he said he knew something was wrong when through his tiny observation window he saw the exhaust glow from one engine fade followed by a second engine. Then silence; apart from the whistling of air past the gliding Lincoln.
When he heard the captain ordering the crew to ditching stations, the signaller stayed at his post to tap out an SOS with his Morse Code key. He then locked down the key which sent out a steady signal to HF stations listening on his frequency. Then in his signallers log, he found time to scrawl the words All engines failed ditching ****s are trumps.
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