It's no doubt better than futilely thumping at it with your fist!
. Funny you should say that. Here is an eye witness description of the first trial at ARDU.
Within weeks we had two prototype knives ready for testing. First I had to convince the brass at Department of Air in Canberra that the canopy break-out knives were a Good Thing. That done, someone had to decide which aircraft should have them. I decided to arrange for the knives to be tested on real aircraft and, working on the theory that a picture is worth a thousand words, the tests would be filmed. The Aircraft Research and Development Unit (ARDU) at Laverton had Sabres, Vampires and Macchis.
These were among the types I envisaged should be equipped with the knives. However, canopies were expensive and there was no way that the CO of ARDU was going to allow me to smash one, just to test a knife. But as luck would have it, there were several canopies in store that had been damaged or badly scratched. They included one Sabre and one Vampire Mk 31 (single-seat) canopy.
The next problem was to find someone willing to risk flying shards while smashing his way out. I was happy to do the job myself, but being a coward who couldn’t punch his way out of a paper bag, I felt the whole project could be jeopardised if my failure to break out was recorded on film. What I needed was a real tough bloke (RTB) with the strength of 10 good men -- if a RTB failed to break through the canopy, then the average fighter pilot would have no hope, even when charged with adrenalin. So we needed a strong knucklehead - and I knew just the right Knuck for the job.
Flight Lieutenant Peter Middleton, DFC, had flown Meteors during the Korean war and when I first met him in 1953 he was a Fighter Combat Instructor at No 2 OTU at RAAF Williamtown. Tall and strongly built, he had a degree in martial arts -- a Black Belt in Karate, I think -- not the sort of chap to upset.
Middleton was now adjutant of Base Squadron at Laverton. Bored behind a desk, he jumped at the opportunity of some excitement other than strutting the parade ground with a ceremonial sword. And if Pete was unable to break out through a Sabre canopy, no one else could.
So the stage was set. Pete would dress the part with a Bone Dome, flying suit, gloves and the knife. The canopy would be locked with Pete at the controls and, on the order, would attempt to break his way out using the knife. The event would be recorded on film and the results sent to Department of Air. If all went as planned, money would be allotted for knives to be installed in various RAAF aircraft. Lives would be saved, and I would be a hero for thinking of the idea. I would, of course, conveniently forget the concept came from the USAF and that some hard working airman in a cold and draughty hangar actually fashioned the knife. Minor details!
The day dawned and Peter Middleton climbed a ladder to the cockpit of the Sabre. One inside, he strapped in and closed the canopy. The airman from the RAAF School of Photography focussed his Leica and held up his sign for Take One. There could be no second chance if a stuff-up occurred -- condemned canopies were in short supply.
Suddenly Middleton waved furiously, and wound open the canopy. He said he had a good idea. The camera man looked up, puzzled, his finger poised. Middleton called out to the waiting throng (all the airmen in the ARDU hangar had downed tools to watch) that before using the knife he would first try to karate his way out -- an event somewhat akin to those fellows who break bricks with one mighty blow of the hand. This was going to be interesting; the camera man refocussed his lens.
With a fearsome shout, muffled by the closed canopy, Middleton lashed out with the side of his gloved hand. The onlookers watched, open mouthed. Then admiration turned to unrestrained laughter as Middleton swore a frightful oath, shaking his hand in agony as his blow bounced harmlessly off the canopy. His muffled curses were terrible to hear. So much for smashing a load of bricks at one blow! There was a short delay for smoko while a nurse treated poor Pete’s badly bruised hand.
The show was soon back on. This time, Pete had the knife in his hand and looked mean. Already embarrassed by his failure, he was not going under easily this time. At the sign of Go, the camera rolled, and Middleton attacked the canopy with the savagery of Ghengis Khan. Huge cracks appeared within seconds and after half a dozen more blows, Middleton had beaten through and heaved his way out of the splintered wreckage. I was delighted. One more canopy to go!
This time it was the Vampire with tough, double width glass which I thought would prove more difficult. Again, in front of the now admiring airmen, Pete was through the canopy in less than 35 seconds. In fact his knife blows were so effective that the canopy frame actually lifted off its rails. Applause -- another smoko, then everyone went back to work. Pete, still nursing a bruised hand, returned happily to his office and ceremonial sword.