Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
clicker:-
It may be of some quiet satisfaction for you to know that we knew that many like yourself were listening in, not so much to routine ATC calls, but to our calls to company. Fearing that calling in a list of defects to the engineers would generate a "Shock Horror Probe Scoop" from the Fourth Estate along the lines of "Stricken Airliner Survives Failure of Vital Equipment", we were told to simply give the appropriate Manual paragraph references. After a period of mayhem, whereby instrument snags generated an entire engine change team meeting the aircraft on arrival, we reverted to calling the snags in clear again.
Chugalug,
Be pleased to know that you fooled a youngster many moons ago.
One of the things that got my interest in aircraft going was the use of a suitable radio
Be pleased to know that you fooled a youngster many moons ago.
One of the things that got my interest in aircraft going was the use of a suitable radio
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Must admit I didn't go for company calls. Used it mainly for the overhead stuff.
In the very early days was quite useful with registrations as callsigns and actual position reports being given.
In the very early days was quite useful with registrations as callsigns and actual position reports being given.
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Danny reflects on the Good Old Days.
You might be excused for believing that ATC/GCA was a life of unremitting toil interspersed with catastrophes great and small, but it was not always like that. You have to take the smooth with the rough. Although there were times when they were coming at you down the QGH pattern, and/or the glidepath, nose to tail like circus elephants, and your mug of tea went cold by your side, yet there were the halcyon days when the sun shone and nobody wanted much (or any) ATC assistance.
Approach could relax and have a good old natter with SATCO, Duty Instructor and anyone else who came in, but it was the Bendix that really had it made. You might do a whole watch without a single run. Now the deck chairs (and the Lloyd Loom) came into their own. Of course, you were as discreet as possible. You pitched your chair(s) on the side furthest away from the Tower and F/Wing HQ, away from prying eyes. Nor could you be surprised by a chance visitor, for no one can set tyre or foot on the Aircraft Movement Area except by permission from Local Controller and as he spent half his time as Radar Director, so you were certain of maximum warning from him.
Accordingly, when O.C.(Flg) decided to bring visitors out to show off the wonders of the new-fangled radar thing, and Local had been advised, his squawk-box would immediately betray the plan to us, and it was the work of a moment to strike camp and get mugs, deck chairs, magazines and newspapers back into the Rest Caravan, and the operators back in the Truck, headsets on and intent on their tubes, giving such an impression of concentration and industry that the much impressed visitors would often apologise for interrupting such obviously vital and important work.
And of course the gloom of the truck, the roar of the generator, the thudding beat of the waveguides, the grinding of the search aerial and the hypnotic weave of the strobes all added to the illusion of mysterious, frantic activity, whereas in fact nothing at all was going on.
Director could always find a few blips crawling about on the PPI; the little "tadpole" tails (when heading towards us) always fascinated them. In fine weather, there would be a lot of circuit traffic and I could usually pick up someone coming round on finals and they could watch him go between the "goalposts" of the Touchdown markers. Wonderful ! And for the last ten seconds I would switch in Fast Scan to add a little drama, for it made them jump (us,too), as it sounded and felt as if the truck were about to fly apart.
They staggered back along the sloping floor and out into the sunshine, having thanked us profusely, and went off, reassured that the safety of the realm was in such good hands. We watched the car out of sight, then fetched the chairs out and put the kettle on. Normal service was resumed. (Now of course you see the advantage of the old, dun green canvas. It blended in, whereas bright candy-striped deck chairs might attract notice from the air).
And the Night Flying suppers between the two phases of a Night Flying programme ! The airmen would draw night-flying rations for all of us from the cookhouse: eggs, bacon, bread, butter, milk, sugar and tea. To this we might add a few tomatoes, and "in the season of the year", lush fresh picked mushrooms from the airfield. Two of our mechs were excellent cooks, get the old frying pan out and light-up the calor gas ring. We had some glorious fry-ups on those nights, eaten at our seats in the truck, for it would be too much of a squeeze for all six or seven of us to feed together in the Caravan, and cook in there at the same time.
Mushrooming on the airfield is worth a post all on its own, so it may get one later.
All the old Truck Radar people go all misty-eyed when they think back on those times, for from the early '60s the AR1/PAR radars (which are built into the Towers) came in, the mobiles were phased out, and our cheerful gypsy life became just a distant memory.
Goodnight, all.
Danny42C .
Those were the days !
Approach could relax and have a good old natter with SATCO, Duty Instructor and anyone else who came in, but it was the Bendix that really had it made. You might do a whole watch without a single run. Now the deck chairs (and the Lloyd Loom) came into their own. Of course, you were as discreet as possible. You pitched your chair(s) on the side furthest away from the Tower and F/Wing HQ, away from prying eyes. Nor could you be surprised by a chance visitor, for no one can set tyre or foot on the Aircraft Movement Area except by permission from Local Controller and as he spent half his time as Radar Director, so you were certain of maximum warning from him.
Accordingly, when O.C.(Flg) decided to bring visitors out to show off the wonders of the new-fangled radar thing, and Local had been advised, his squawk-box would immediately betray the plan to us, and it was the work of a moment to strike camp and get mugs, deck chairs, magazines and newspapers back into the Rest Caravan, and the operators back in the Truck, headsets on and intent on their tubes, giving such an impression of concentration and industry that the much impressed visitors would often apologise for interrupting such obviously vital and important work.
And of course the gloom of the truck, the roar of the generator, the thudding beat of the waveguides, the grinding of the search aerial and the hypnotic weave of the strobes all added to the illusion of mysterious, frantic activity, whereas in fact nothing at all was going on.
Director could always find a few blips crawling about on the PPI; the little "tadpole" tails (when heading towards us) always fascinated them. In fine weather, there would be a lot of circuit traffic and I could usually pick up someone coming round on finals and they could watch him go between the "goalposts" of the Touchdown markers. Wonderful ! And for the last ten seconds I would switch in Fast Scan to add a little drama, for it made them jump (us,too), as it sounded and felt as if the truck were about to fly apart.
They staggered back along the sloping floor and out into the sunshine, having thanked us profusely, and went off, reassured that the safety of the realm was in such good hands. We watched the car out of sight, then fetched the chairs out and put the kettle on. Normal service was resumed. (Now of course you see the advantage of the old, dun green canvas. It blended in, whereas bright candy-striped deck chairs might attract notice from the air).
And the Night Flying suppers between the two phases of a Night Flying programme ! The airmen would draw night-flying rations for all of us from the cookhouse: eggs, bacon, bread, butter, milk, sugar and tea. To this we might add a few tomatoes, and "in the season of the year", lush fresh picked mushrooms from the airfield. Two of our mechs were excellent cooks, get the old frying pan out and light-up the calor gas ring. We had some glorious fry-ups on those nights, eaten at our seats in the truck, for it would be too much of a squeeze for all six or seven of us to feed together in the Caravan, and cook in there at the same time.
Mushrooming on the airfield is worth a post all on its own, so it may get one later.
All the old Truck Radar people go all misty-eyed when they think back on those times, for from the early '60s the AR1/PAR radars (which are built into the Towers) came in, the mobiles were phased out, and our cheerful gypsy life became just a distant memory.
Goodnight, all.
Danny42C .
Those were the days !
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Late on Parade.
In response to Danny's 4269 " is there a Hunter man in the house?" - Sorry Sir! Here but late on Parade.
I did'n't join the Hunter force until the 60s and the T7 was well established in widespread service by then. However, I recall that some of my older colleagues had certainly converted direct to the single seat by the tried and tested Spitfire/Hurricane technique.
You have to remember that despite its exhilarating performance it was a basic flying machine with none of the complicating aids found in modern cluttered cockpits. You flew head out as much as possible with right hand on the stick and left on throttle. No navaids (other than a map and radio compass(located behind your right elbow and virtually impossible to tune in flight)). Thus a straight in first trip was not regarded as challenging.
Not quite the same thing but later in life I had the privilege to fly the last Meteor and Vampire when the Vintage Pair were active. At the end of the Summer season both aircraft disappeared into a hangar for some months only to reappear the next Spring by which time my colleague and I were out of currency. No problem-both aircraft were 2 seat trainers and we were both QFIs. We both climbed in,fired up, and on takeoff the one in control is immediately current and checked out the other.
I bet you are not allowed to do that now!
I did'n't join the Hunter force until the 60s and the T7 was well established in widespread service by then. However, I recall that some of my older colleagues had certainly converted direct to the single seat by the tried and tested Spitfire/Hurricane technique.
You have to remember that despite its exhilarating performance it was a basic flying machine with none of the complicating aids found in modern cluttered cockpits. You flew head out as much as possible with right hand on the stick and left on throttle. No navaids (other than a map and radio compass(located behind your right elbow and virtually impossible to tune in flight)). Thus a straight in first trip was not regarded as challenging.
Not quite the same thing but later in life I had the privilege to fly the last Meteor and Vampire when the Vintage Pair were active. At the end of the Summer season both aircraft disappeared into a hangar for some months only to reappear the next Spring by which time my colleague and I were out of currency. No problem-both aircraft were 2 seat trainers and we were both QFIs. We both climbed in,fired up, and on takeoff the one in control is immediately current and checked out the other.
I bet you are not allowed to do that now!
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Old(ish) Hunter pilot checks in.
1955, Tangmere, and the two day fighter squadrons, Nos 1 & 34, eagerly awaited the arrival of our new aircraft. Of course the first of the Hunter F5s with the Saphire engine went to 1 while we of 34 had to wait until after the Fighter Command Autumn Exercise before ours arrived. Having enjoyed the usual mushroom fry-ups of the season (why did the order to go to cockpit readiness always occur at the wrong time, leaving the full frying pan to be scoffed by the idle undeserving?) the fun eventually ended and we of 34 got down to the business of converting to the new equipment. We had a short period of technical lectures, perhaps five hours in total, then get strapped in and off you go. You could always tell a Hunter pilot on his first trip because no matter how well briefed he'd been, after Meteors the sensitivity of the powered aileron controls and the few seconds of inadvertent wing waggling gave the game away. But from then on it was a delight to fly.
If you can ever get Chris Golds to repeat his performance of a first trip by putting a chair on a table, starting his walk round check, climbing up to sit down and strap in, taxy out and finally take off, as demonstrated at a Hunter pilots reunion at Wittering several years ago, it is a joy to behold.
1955, Tangmere, and the two day fighter squadrons, Nos 1 & 34, eagerly awaited the arrival of our new aircraft. Of course the first of the Hunter F5s with the Saphire engine went to 1 while we of 34 had to wait until after the Fighter Command Autumn Exercise before ours arrived. Having enjoyed the usual mushroom fry-ups of the season (why did the order to go to cockpit readiness always occur at the wrong time, leaving the full frying pan to be scoffed by the idle undeserving?) the fun eventually ended and we of 34 got down to the business of converting to the new equipment. We had a short period of technical lectures, perhaps five hours in total, then get strapped in and off you go. You could always tell a Hunter pilot on his first trip because no matter how well briefed he'd been, after Meteors the sensitivity of the powered aileron controls and the few seconds of inadvertent wing waggling gave the game away. But from then on it was a delight to fly.
If you can ever get Chris Golds to repeat his performance of a first trip by putting a chair on a table, starting his walk round check, climbing up to sit down and strap in, taxy out and finally take off, as demonstrated at a Hunter pilots reunion at Wittering several years ago, it is a joy to behold.
It was even better at Valley in the mid-'70s. After finishing the Gnat course, we would usually have to wait for a TWU slot, so were given a Hunter 'refresher' course. A couple of days of 'tech', read the pilots notes and pass the tech exam, some simulator sessions in the Mk6 sim before flying the T7 - which seemed like an airliner compared with the Gnat.
But the day of one's first solo in the single seat Hunter was always memorable. These weren't normal Hunters, they were stripped of Sabrinas, guns and radar, with the ancient Rebecca DME replaced by TACAN. Added to which they were painted in high-gloss polyurethane and hence went like the proverbial off a shovel. As one mate commented "I finally managed to change to Approach at 10000ft, forgot to set 1013 until about 20000, then muttered "OK God, I have control!". We referred to them as 'GT6' Hunters after the sports car of the time - and they must have been the highest performance 'trainers' ever used by an AFTS! Truly superb, they were!
I can still remember that aroma of burnt AVPIN on start up!
But the day of one's first solo in the single seat Hunter was always memorable. These weren't normal Hunters, they were stripped of Sabrinas, guns and radar, with the ancient Rebecca DME replaced by TACAN. Added to which they were painted in high-gloss polyurethane and hence went like the proverbial off a shovel. As one mate commented "I finally managed to change to Approach at 10000ft, forgot to set 1013 until about 20000, then muttered "OK God, I have control!". We referred to them as 'GT6' Hunters after the sports car of the time - and they must have been the highest performance 'trainers' ever used by an AFTS! Truly superb, they were!
I can still remember that aroma of burnt AVPIN on start up!
Last edited by BEagle; 12th Sep 2013 at 09:26.
Jack - Sir Andrew, shortly before his untimely passing from pneumonia. He stood us a round more than once - as we looked after his personal Gazelle, XW855 that now resides in the Hendon museum.
Blacksheep -
Makes good sense.
"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.
Makes even better sense.
Curiously enough, my mention of FM Carver reminds me of the occasion when, long after he had "retired", he was spending a day at sea as the guest of my Admiral and I was acting as his minder as he took a very informal, and unannounced, walk round the flagship. FM Carver was simply wearing his tanky's beret and a woolly pully with rather tired looking shoulder straps and, whilst we were enjoying a brew in the Stokers' Messdeck, he asked if any of them wanted to ask him any questions about his Army life.
No one did, until the leading hand of the mess felt he had to say something, cleared his throat and, looking at the rather unfamiliar shoulder straps with the combination of crown, laurel wreath and crossed batons (not hugely different from a Chief Petty Officer's cap badge), and said, "Ain't you a bit on the old side to be just a senior NCO ?"
Michael Carver merely smiled, and simply said that he would probably not have got that far if he had joined in the ranks!
Jack
Blacksheep -
Makes good sense.
"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.
Makes even better sense.
Curiously enough, my mention of FM Carver reminds me of the occasion when, long after he had "retired", he was spending a day at sea as the guest of my Admiral and I was acting as his minder as he took a very informal, and unannounced, walk round the flagship. FM Carver was simply wearing his tanky's beret and a woolly pully with rather tired looking shoulder straps and, whilst we were enjoying a brew in the Stokers' Messdeck, he asked if any of them wanted to ask him any questions about his Army life.
No one did, until the leading hand of the mess felt he had to say something, cleared his throat and, looking at the rather unfamiliar shoulder straps with the combination of crown, laurel wreath and crossed batons (not hugely different from a Chief Petty Officer's cap badge), and said, "Ain't you a bit on the old side to be just a senior NCO ?"
Michael Carver merely smiled, and simply said that he would probably not have got that far if he had joined in the ranks!
Jack
Ah, Danny, what a wonderful pastoral scene you paint. Yet the military training was ever present. Use of relief features to obscure and to hide, intelligence to warn of enemy movement and dispositions, camouflage to prevent detection from above and, most importantly of all, a well rehearsed reaction plan to fool and confuse said enemies when engaged at close quarters. All well worth the time and effort to enjoy the life of bucolic pleasure that you describe so well.
Mushrooming was always a seasonal pleasure of course, even more so if consumed there and then though, in the "frying fly up". So sad, and yet so typical, that all this should be swept away by the "white heat of technology".
I remember the joy of laying out on the grass at Thruxton, awaiting my turn to fly one of Wg Cdr (retd) Doran Webb's Jackaroos on a Flying Scholarship course, watching and listening to a Lark ascending. No room now for such of course in its "developed" form.
Ah nostalgia, they don't make it like they used to!
Mushrooming was always a seasonal pleasure of course, even more so if consumed there and then though, in the "frying fly up". So sad, and yet so typical, that all this should be swept away by the "white heat of technology".
I remember the joy of laying out on the grass at Thruxton, awaiting my turn to fly one of Wg Cdr (retd) Doran Webb's Jackaroos on a Flying Scholarship course, watching and listening to a Lark ascending. No room now for such of course in its "developed" form.
Ah nostalgia, they don't make it like they used to!
Five Star Fables
Jack - Sir Andrew, shortly before his untimely passing from pneumonia. He stood us a round more than once - as we looked after his personal Gazelle, XW855 that now resides in the Hendon museum.
Blacksheep -
Makes good sense.
"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.
Makes even better sense.
Curiously enough, my mention of FM Carver reminds me of the occasion when, long after he had "retired", he was spending a day at sea as the guest of my Admiral and I was acting as his minder as he took a very informal, and unannounced, walk round the flagship. FM Carver was simply wearing his tanky's beret and dark trousers and a woolly pully with rather tired looking shoulder straps and, whilst we were enjoying a brew in the Stokers' Messdeck, he asked if any of them wanted to ask him any questions about his Service life.
No one did, until the leading hand of the mess felt he had to say something, cleared his throat and, looking at the rather unfamiliar shoulder straps with the combination of crown, laurel wreath and crossed batons (not hugely different from a Chief Petty Officer's cap badge), and said, "Aren't you a bit on the old side to be just a senior rate?"
Michael Carver merely smiled, and simply said that he would probably not have got that far if he had joined in the ranks!
On another occasion, I boarded a bus late one night in Whitehall, and it was only wehn I sat down that I realised that I was sitting beside a long "retired" Admiral of the Fleet, who may or not have been the son of a very distinguished artist. "Good, evening, Sir, " I politely ventured, to which he simply replied, without turning his head, "You ain't seen me, right?"
Jack
Blacksheep -
Makes good sense.
"Mrs" - yes. We never put rank or title on the "VIP" board.
Makes even better sense.
Curiously enough, my mention of FM Carver reminds me of the occasion when, long after he had "retired", he was spending a day at sea as the guest of my Admiral and I was acting as his minder as he took a very informal, and unannounced, walk round the flagship. FM Carver was simply wearing his tanky's beret and dark trousers and a woolly pully with rather tired looking shoulder straps and, whilst we were enjoying a brew in the Stokers' Messdeck, he asked if any of them wanted to ask him any questions about his Service life.
No one did, until the leading hand of the mess felt he had to say something, cleared his throat and, looking at the rather unfamiliar shoulder straps with the combination of crown, laurel wreath and crossed batons (not hugely different from a Chief Petty Officer's cap badge), and said, "Aren't you a bit on the old side to be just a senior rate?"
Michael Carver merely smiled, and simply said that he would probably not have got that far if he had joined in the ranks!
On another occasion, I boarded a bus late one night in Whitehall, and it was only wehn I sat down that I realised that I was sitting beside a long "retired" Admiral of the Fleet, who may or not have been the son of a very distinguished artist. "Good, evening, Sir, " I politely ventured, to which he simply replied, without turning his head, "You ain't seen me, right?"
Jack
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Ancient and Modern.
Fixed Cross, 26er and BEagle,
Thanks for your help with the question. The problem was, I hadn't dug deep enough:
"Picture of Hawker-Hunter T7 Military Trainer Plane and Information
www.airpowerworld.info/trainers/hawker-hunter-t7-trainer-plane.htm Cached The Hawker Hunter T7 entered RAF service in 1958 and one aircraft was assigned to each of the RAF's Hawker Hunter fighter squadrons, the remaining aircraft......" (Google)....So 'Gus' didn't have a T7 to try.
'Fraid I don't know Chris Golds, but the name may ring bells with others.
Perhaps the moment to put this in, which I've been saving for a rainy day:
A visitor flew in one day for some reason: a smart Hunter F6 with Sqdn markings, Pilot - a F/L Fryer. Claude Fryer and I had been on 'A' Flight of 20 Sqdn together, we'd enjoyed many a tail-chase with Spitfires over Anglesey in the old days. I know he retired a S/Ldr, but don't know whether he got his Sqdn or whether his 'scraper' came later.
He invited me climb in and have a look round. It was one of those aircraft in which you feel at home right away. 80% of what was in front of me was much the same as in the Meteors and Vampires I'd flown ten years before. There was little to frighten the horses.
It would not be all that hard, I thought, for a "Proficient"(?) Meteor pilot to fire this up and take it away (I suppose the Commandant must have felt much the same). Of course, it was all just a pipe dream. My flying days were over for good - but I still had a tinge of regret for what might have been.
I cannot help contrasting that with the cockpits of today. Some short time ago there was a Thread here on the most recent Course of FJs to graduate from Valley. (I think there were as many as four of them). There was a shot of the Hawk II simulator cockpit with an AVM in possession. I looked over his shoulder at a sort of Star Wars scenario.
Everything was utterly foreign to me, I spotted something which looked vaguely like an artificial horizon, but that was about all. And how do all those banks of numbers work ? Does a robot ask you: "If you want to do a slow roll to the left, press number four - to hear these choices again, press hash ? (not entirely joking). And what happens when it all goes pear-shaped ? Do you actually have to fly the thing ?
D.
Thanks for your help with the question. The problem was, I hadn't dug deep enough:
"Picture of Hawker-Hunter T7 Military Trainer Plane and Information
www.airpowerworld.info/trainers/hawker-hunter-t7-trainer-plane.htm Cached The Hawker Hunter T7 entered RAF service in 1958 and one aircraft was assigned to each of the RAF's Hawker Hunter fighter squadrons, the remaining aircraft......" (Google)....So 'Gus' didn't have a T7 to try.
'Fraid I don't know Chris Golds, but the name may ring bells with others.
Perhaps the moment to put this in, which I've been saving for a rainy day:
A visitor flew in one day for some reason: a smart Hunter F6 with Sqdn markings, Pilot - a F/L Fryer. Claude Fryer and I had been on 'A' Flight of 20 Sqdn together, we'd enjoyed many a tail-chase with Spitfires over Anglesey in the old days. I know he retired a S/Ldr, but don't know whether he got his Sqdn or whether his 'scraper' came later.
He invited me climb in and have a look round. It was one of those aircraft in which you feel at home right away. 80% of what was in front of me was much the same as in the Meteors and Vampires I'd flown ten years before. There was little to frighten the horses.
It would not be all that hard, I thought, for a "Proficient"(?) Meteor pilot to fire this up and take it away (I suppose the Commandant must have felt much the same). Of course, it was all just a pipe dream. My flying days were over for good - but I still had a tinge of regret for what might have been.
I cannot help contrasting that with the cockpits of today. Some short time ago there was a Thread here on the most recent Course of FJs to graduate from Valley. (I think there were as many as four of them). There was a shot of the Hawk II simulator cockpit with an AVM in possession. I looked over his shoulder at a sort of Star Wars scenario.
Everything was utterly foreign to me, I spotted something which looked vaguely like an artificial horizon, but that was about all. And how do all those banks of numbers work ? Does a robot ask you: "If you want to do a slow roll to the left, press number four - to hear these choices again, press hash ? (not entirely joking). And what happens when it all goes pear-shaped ? Do you actually have to fly the thing ?
D.
Danny:-
I know where you're coming from, Danny, but the T7 PN's certainly constitute rather more than an evening's light reading:-
2501 todo
just looking at the cockpit layout diagrams, p186 et seq, one recalls Kenneth Williams questions to steely eyed and granite jawed Test Pilot Anthony Aloysius Hancock, "All these knobs and switches, how do you know what they're all for? What does this one do?". Exit man and seat...
I've pored over the lists of numbered items, but can't find a single cup holder anywhere. Can anyone spot them?
There was little to frighten the horses.
2501 todo
just looking at the cockpit layout diagrams, p186 et seq, one recalls Kenneth Williams questions to steely eyed and granite jawed Test Pilot Anthony Aloysius Hancock, "All these knobs and switches, how do you know what they're all for? What does this one do?". Exit man and seat...
I've pored over the lists of numbered items, but can't find a single cup holder anywhere. Can anyone spot them?
Last edited by Chugalug2; 12th Sep 2013 at 20:28.
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Chugalug,
I take your point, but much the same could be true in anything else you were flying - those pictures in the front of the P.N.s, and all those numbers, would give anybody the collywobbles !
2501 todo ? Didn't have any success with it, but it's probably just me. I find the "Jever Steam Laundry" very helpful for P.N.s. But cup-holders ! What will they think of next ? The introduction of the jet engine made life simpler in many ways. Checks amounted to "Fuel and Noise". If the engine were running, and stick and rudder worked, it would probably fly.
Of course, it was a "Walter Mitty" moment for me in the Hunter - ah, well, we all have 'em, don't we ?
Cheers, Danny.
I take your point, but much the same could be true in anything else you were flying - those pictures in the front of the P.N.s, and all those numbers, would give anybody the collywobbles !
2501 todo ? Didn't have any success with it, but it's probably just me. I find the "Jever Steam Laundry" very helpful for P.N.s. But cup-holders ! What will they think of next ? The introduction of the jet engine made life simpler in many ways. Checks amounted to "Fuel and Noise". If the engine were running, and stick and rudder worked, it would probably fly.
Of course, it was a "Walter Mitty" moment for me in the Hunter - ah, well, we all have 'em, don't we ?
Cheers, Danny.
...can't find a single cup holder anywhere.
....such as 34B!
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... then there's the Airbus flight deck, with a handy pull out shelf below the instrument panel to perch one's laptop on.
- and a nice cup holder.
- and a nice cup holder.
All this talk of Hunter T.7s takes me back to 1953 - 1955 when I was at Biggin and saw 41 Sqn convert from Meteor F.8s to Hunter F.5s.
Oddly when 41 had their Meteor 8s they had a Vampire T.11 as a trainer, but why? and why not a Meteor T.7?
Herewith with two photos of what 41 were flying until they converted to Hunters. Photos from my early trials of colour (transparency) film and taken from Biggin's old control tower which was alongside the Westerham Road.
Oddly when 41 had their Meteor 8s they had a Vampire T.11 as a trainer, but why? and why not a Meteor T.7?
Herewith with two photos of what 41 were flying until they converted to Hunters. Photos from my early trials of colour (transparency) film and taken from Biggin's old control tower which was alongside the Westerham Road.
Last edited by Warmtoast; 13th Sep 2013 at 15:55.
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Wonderful!!
The Vampire is a tad close to the grassy stuff, though!
The Vampire is a tad close to the grassy stuff, though!
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I'm hoping to get down to Montrose RAF Station heritage centre tomorrow. They have a Meteor T7 there, so if the weather is OK I'll take a few photos and post them Sunday or Monday if you guys would like.
Their website here - Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre. Britain's first operational military airfield.
Their website here - Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre. Britain's first operational military airfield.
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Talk of many things.
Warmtoast,
Two lovely pictures of two lovely aeroplanes ! Although we Meteor drivers (at Driffield early '50s) derisively called them "kiddicars", I found the Vampire III and V to be a docile, easy to fly and altogether enjoyable little aircraft, and I'm sure the T.11 would be every bit as nice (although I never got to fly one).
Was there any truth in the old tale that the single-seater was designed so that the front half of a 'Mossie' would fit exactly after the front of the Vampire had been chopped off ?
I wouldn't go so far as to call the Meteor "nice", but we must remember that it was the 'Typhoon' of its day, and being "nice" to the occupant(s) was low on the designer's priorities. Again, I never got past the 4 and the T7.
(Your quote):
"Oddly when 41 had their Meteor 8s they had a Vampire T.11 as a trainer, but why? and why not a Meteor T.7? "
The Auxiliary Sqdns. all flew Vampires, but had a Meteor T7 trainer apiece. I was 'selected' (you, you and you) for the Meteor stream at Driffield, then posted to a Vampire Sqdn. It's the way the RAF does things. (In '42, they put me through an expensive Spitfire OTU, then sent me out to India where there were no Spitfires then - I never flew a 'Spit' again till '49 ).....D.
Blacksheep ...(Your quote):
"then there's the Airbus flight deck, with a handy pull out shelf below the instrument panel to perch one's laptop on".
I thought it was for the Captain's dinner (silver service, of course), and would the cupholder handle a champagne flute ? And (unrelated topic) how could you fly it with a left-hand sidestick ? It's impossible !.....D.
MPN11 ... Obviously, Bloggs thought he was driving down the A.1 !...D.
OffshoreSLF ...Thanks! - though I have mixed memories of the T7 ....D.
Regards to all, Danny.
Two lovely pictures of two lovely aeroplanes ! Although we Meteor drivers (at Driffield early '50s) derisively called them "kiddicars", I found the Vampire III and V to be a docile, easy to fly and altogether enjoyable little aircraft, and I'm sure the T.11 would be every bit as nice (although I never got to fly one).
Was there any truth in the old tale that the single-seater was designed so that the front half of a 'Mossie' would fit exactly after the front of the Vampire had been chopped off ?
I wouldn't go so far as to call the Meteor "nice", but we must remember that it was the 'Typhoon' of its day, and being "nice" to the occupant(s) was low on the designer's priorities. Again, I never got past the 4 and the T7.
(Your quote):
"Oddly when 41 had their Meteor 8s they had a Vampire T.11 as a trainer, but why? and why not a Meteor T.7? "
The Auxiliary Sqdns. all flew Vampires, but had a Meteor T7 trainer apiece. I was 'selected' (you, you and you) for the Meteor stream at Driffield, then posted to a Vampire Sqdn. It's the way the RAF does things. (In '42, they put me through an expensive Spitfire OTU, then sent me out to India where there were no Spitfires then - I never flew a 'Spit' again till '49 ).....D.
Blacksheep ...(Your quote):
"then there's the Airbus flight deck, with a handy pull out shelf below the instrument panel to perch one's laptop on".
I thought it was for the Captain's dinner (silver service, of course), and would the cupholder handle a champagne flute ? And (unrelated topic) how could you fly it with a left-hand sidestick ? It's impossible !.....D.
MPN11 ... Obviously, Bloggs thought he was driving down the A.1 !...D.
OffshoreSLF ...Thanks! - though I have mixed memories of the T7 ....D.
Regards to all, Danny.
Guest
Posts: n/a
Danny pits his wits against the Crow (Corvus corvidae).
I can remember very few names from my Strubby days. In the Tower there was S/Ldr Norcross, the SATCO. John Henderson, who had been in ATC at Weston Zoyland while I was there, (and after retirement was SATCO at Teesside Airport when I was at Leeming).
"Vin" Harvey was my "oppo", (worth ˝d a mile to me as a passenger home/duty when I took the car to Strubby). All of us were ex-war, John and I had been pilots, Norcross was a nav, and Vin was a Wop/Ag (I think).
Of the AFS Instructors, I only remember the name of "Paddy" Hine, who would go on to greater things. Among our Mablethorpe friends were Frank Venn, who instructed on the Canberras, and Jimmy Maxwell, an ex-Pathfinder pilot now on the Lincolns at Manby.
Poor Vin had been a F/O for as long as he could remember, for Examination "B" was far beyond his powers. He looked like staying at that rank until retiring, and there were many like him. As a family man, life was pretty spartan on his pay. In a rare rush of generosity to the head, however, the RAF relented and allowed all those over a certain age to be deemed to have passed "B". Vin put up the second ring, and went out and bought fillet steak for dinner.
Then as now, birds were a constant flying hazard. At Strubby we were particularly plagued with crows, and it would have been amusing (if it were not so annoying) to see how quickly these highly intelligent creatures shrugged off our countermeasures. We tried broadcasting recorded alarm calls, they treated them with contempt. Limited success for a short time came from a sort of anti-bird "flak".
A Verey cartridge propelled a little packet of fused gunpowder some 50 feet into the air, where it went off with a very loud bang and a puff of white smoke. I forget what we called it. But as there could be no shrapnel with it, there was no harm in it, it was just a frightener: the crows soon worked that out. And the cartridges must have been very expensive, so they were rarely used.
A cheaper and more effective idea was a two-foot length of slow-burning fuse rope with a big "banger" firework every three inches or so (called ?). As the fuse burned along, you got a bang about every twenty minutes (presumably on the supposition that the crows had forgotten about the last one by then, so they got a new fright). At first, the rope was simply laid on the grass, but if that had grown a bit, the explosions were muffled - but still enough to frighten the ###t out of any mushroomer who was collecting nearby, for of course you couldn't "switch off" the fuse at the end of the day.
Mod No.1 was a two-foot stake in the ground, and fasten the the fuse up to that. This worked well for quite a while, then the crows grew blasé again. Time for Mod.2: two foot-long, inch-wide strips of alloy were dangled from the top of the stake; when a firework went off the blast flung these up and jangled them about for several seconds after. This was a new one on the crows, and really shook them for quite some time (and besides the "chimes" also rang in the breeze).
One day, things were quiet, one of these stakes was about 50 yards in front of the Tower. A large crow had perched on top of the stake, the better to view his surroundings without having to take the trouble to fly..... This should be funny, we got the binoculars out.
The awaited explosion came, the chimes clattered. Our crow flapped his wings a couple of times, issued a derisive caw - but didn't even move off his perch ! Local Controller, who had the binoculars, swore that he lifted two single claws in our direction, but I find that difficult to believe. (Crows 1, ATC 0). We retired defeated from the field.
Of course, these were all pointless exercises, the crows didn't go away, but just moved to another part of the airfield, where they would be just as much of a nuisance. Having said that, I do not recall an ingested crow case ever - they seem to have the sense to keep out of an aircraft's way. It seems (Wiki) that one of the collectives of crows is a "murder" of crows; you can look up the reference, it's quite interesting.
In the end, the only real answer is the falcon, and falcon plus falconer is a pricey item, and the falcon itself is a hazard. Artificial falcons (kites) have been tried, I believe. And how about a radio controlled model aircraft dressed up as a falcon ? You could organise a volunteer body of Air Training Corps Cadets, on a rota of a day off school in turn. They'd jump at it, you'd give them a games console of some sort to control the "falcon" from Local, and when they grew up there's a new Trade all ready for them in the RAF.... Can't be bad ?
This suggestion is offered gratis to MOD (but a MBE would be nice, and a suitable financial reward even nicer, but will not hold my breath, as it might be fatal at my age).
Goodnight, chaps,
Danny42C
Strictly for the birds !
"Vin" Harvey was my "oppo", (worth ˝d a mile to me as a passenger home/duty when I took the car to Strubby). All of us were ex-war, John and I had been pilots, Norcross was a nav, and Vin was a Wop/Ag (I think).
Of the AFS Instructors, I only remember the name of "Paddy" Hine, who would go on to greater things. Among our Mablethorpe friends were Frank Venn, who instructed on the Canberras, and Jimmy Maxwell, an ex-Pathfinder pilot now on the Lincolns at Manby.
Poor Vin had been a F/O for as long as he could remember, for Examination "B" was far beyond his powers. He looked like staying at that rank until retiring, and there were many like him. As a family man, life was pretty spartan on his pay. In a rare rush of generosity to the head, however, the RAF relented and allowed all those over a certain age to be deemed to have passed "B". Vin put up the second ring, and went out and bought fillet steak for dinner.
Then as now, birds were a constant flying hazard. At Strubby we were particularly plagued with crows, and it would have been amusing (if it were not so annoying) to see how quickly these highly intelligent creatures shrugged off our countermeasures. We tried broadcasting recorded alarm calls, they treated them with contempt. Limited success for a short time came from a sort of anti-bird "flak".
A Verey cartridge propelled a little packet of fused gunpowder some 50 feet into the air, where it went off with a very loud bang and a puff of white smoke. I forget what we called it. But as there could be no shrapnel with it, there was no harm in it, it was just a frightener: the crows soon worked that out. And the cartridges must have been very expensive, so they were rarely used.
A cheaper and more effective idea was a two-foot length of slow-burning fuse rope with a big "banger" firework every three inches or so (called ?). As the fuse burned along, you got a bang about every twenty minutes (presumably on the supposition that the crows had forgotten about the last one by then, so they got a new fright). At first, the rope was simply laid on the grass, but if that had grown a bit, the explosions were muffled - but still enough to frighten the ###t out of any mushroomer who was collecting nearby, for of course you couldn't "switch off" the fuse at the end of the day.
Mod No.1 was a two-foot stake in the ground, and fasten the the fuse up to that. This worked well for quite a while, then the crows grew blasé again. Time for Mod.2: two foot-long, inch-wide strips of alloy were dangled from the top of the stake; when a firework went off the blast flung these up and jangled them about for several seconds after. This was a new one on the crows, and really shook them for quite some time (and besides the "chimes" also rang in the breeze).
One day, things were quiet, one of these stakes was about 50 yards in front of the Tower. A large crow had perched on top of the stake, the better to view his surroundings without having to take the trouble to fly..... This should be funny, we got the binoculars out.
The awaited explosion came, the chimes clattered. Our crow flapped his wings a couple of times, issued a derisive caw - but didn't even move off his perch ! Local Controller, who had the binoculars, swore that he lifted two single claws in our direction, but I find that difficult to believe. (Crows 1, ATC 0). We retired defeated from the field.
Of course, these were all pointless exercises, the crows didn't go away, but just moved to another part of the airfield, where they would be just as much of a nuisance. Having said that, I do not recall an ingested crow case ever - they seem to have the sense to keep out of an aircraft's way. It seems (Wiki) that one of the collectives of crows is a "murder" of crows; you can look up the reference, it's quite interesting.
In the end, the only real answer is the falcon, and falcon plus falconer is a pricey item, and the falcon itself is a hazard. Artificial falcons (kites) have been tried, I believe. And how about a radio controlled model aircraft dressed up as a falcon ? You could organise a volunteer body of Air Training Corps Cadets, on a rota of a day off school in turn. They'd jump at it, you'd give them a games console of some sort to control the "falcon" from Local, and when they grew up there's a new Trade all ready for them in the RAF.... Can't be bad ?
This suggestion is offered gratis to MOD (but a MBE would be nice, and a suitable financial reward even nicer, but will not hold my breath, as it might be fatal at my age).
Goodnight, chaps,
Danny42C
Strictly for the birds !