(I don't know what's happening to the font - my gremlin is running amok !)
Congratulations to Tartare Junior - when are the cigars to be handed out, proud Tartare Senior ?
Long, long ago, when a very old man was a young man in a Stearman .....................
“My great day came on 19th September, 1941.
You never know in advance. I'm doing dual circuits and bumps, taxying back down the edge of the field after each landing. Half way back, Bob tells me to stop, and climbs out with his 'chute. "Off you go - remember what I've told you!" Another instructor is sitting on his chute, with a cigarette. (I suppose he'd just sent his pupil off), and Bob joins him.
This is no time to feel nervous. You have to move the aeroplane. I taxi warily round to take-off point (no runways), make sure nothing's coming in to land on top of me, turn into wind and push the throttle open.
I swing a little, travelling diagonally across the field, and into the air. So far, so good. There is supposed to be a special Providence which looks after first solos, the same one which takes care of drunks and toddlers when they fall down. A first solo never comes to harm, at least not in my experience.
Round I go, mechanically following routine, and come in for quite a decent landing (I've done many worse). I trundle round back to Bob. He waves me off again. This time I keep the take-off straight, again I put it down in one piece. This time Bob's on his feet - clearly he thinks he's pushed our luck far enough for one day. He climbs in: "Take me back to Carlstrom".
From that day on, I'll always be a pilot. I'm still a long way from my "wings", but I've been up "alone and unaided"; I'm down alive, and the aircraft can still fly!
Remember it as if it were yesterday,
Danny.
Last edited by Senior Pilot; 29th Sep 2017 at 01:43.
Reason: Fix font and sizing