Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
Danny, the story of the Thirsk railway accident and of Leeming's part in alerting the Emergency Services of it reminds us of the many ways in which HM Forces have aided the Civil Power in many more ways than the usual use of that phrase suggests. With ever shrinking numbers I fear that the scope for such assistance must correspondingly shrink likewise.
Flash 2001, your uncle certainly kept his tailor busy, subtracting and adding stripes ad infinitum! As Danny says it seems unusual even for the ups and downs of wartime service. I bow to his interpretation of what may have happened but await your unearthing more facts. Most here will empathise with him though, once the desire to fly is there, nothing else matters much.
harrym. Well, you promised and you certainly came through with a description of a unique procedure that is now scarcely known of. I rather suspect that your Army pilot was acting out a role garnered from Hollywood, including the ditching of the cigarette prior to action. If he'd tripped or you stumbled into him the subsequent scene might not have gone with such precision or predictability. Well done you though for trying out the customer experience. Personally those who I dropped, or who I dropped to, were welcome to my service, but I had no desire to join them in their work.
As to it not being on offer these days, well no, but surely a variation of would be a great attraction at a Theme Park. Perhaps if the whole affair ran on rails...?
Flash 2001, your uncle certainly kept his tailor busy, subtracting and adding stripes ad infinitum! As Danny says it seems unusual even for the ups and downs of wartime service. I bow to his interpretation of what may have happened but await your unearthing more facts. Most here will empathise with him though, once the desire to fly is there, nothing else matters much.
harrym. Well, you promised and you certainly came through with a description of a unique procedure that is now scarcely known of. I rather suspect that your Army pilot was acting out a role garnered from Hollywood, including the ditching of the cigarette prior to action. If he'd tripped or you stumbled into him the subsequent scene might not have gone with such precision or predictability. Well done you though for trying out the customer experience. Personally those who I dropped, or who I dropped to, were welcome to my service, but I had no desire to join them in their work.
As to it not being on offer these days, well no, but surely a variation of would be a great attraction at a Theme Park. Perhaps if the whole affair ran on rails...?
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Gaining An R.A.F. Pilots Brevet In WW11
Danny. Ypu must be right about our "GCA, type at Topcliffe, but it worked for us and always got us down.
Harrym. We enjoyed our Horsa/Dakota flying at Leicester East in 1945. It was never suggested that the Horsa could be "snatched". I could imagine the cockpit being torn off with the pilots and leaving the rest of the fuselage and wings behind. No thanks. My embarkation leave for the Far East Gliders ( Hadrians I suppose ) was thankfully ended by the Bomb.
Opioids
Now at Aldergrove in September 1956. Nutts Corner was the civilian airport for Belfast, Aldergrove only R.A.F. We had No 120 Squadron with Shackletons Mk 1, No 202 Meteorological Squadron with Hastings, County of Ulster Squadron Auxiliary Air Force with their Vampires and a Maintenance Unit with various strange aircraft including a Supermarine Swift. Aldergrove was the only stationing my service when, as Station Duty Officer, I had an armed guard when inspecting at nightConversion to the Shackleton was a one to one with the various leaders and my flying conversion was with Stan Boutell , sadly to be lost with that crew in the South China Sea just two years later.
Soon after conversion the Suez War started and we were engaged in trooping with thirty soldiers sitting on the floor behind the main spar . We did manage to get them home to Lyneham in time for Christmas after the shambles of Suez. A trip to the Elsan was quite a struggle!
In the New Year I was given a Captaincy and conversion to the Mark 2.
Harrym. We enjoyed our Horsa/Dakota flying at Leicester East in 1945. It was never suggested that the Horsa could be "snatched". I could imagine the cockpit being torn off with the pilots and leaving the rest of the fuselage and wings behind. No thanks. My embarkation leave for the Far East Gliders ( Hadrians I suppose ) was thankfully ended by the Bomb.
Opioids
Now at Aldergrove in September 1956. Nutts Corner was the civilian airport for Belfast, Aldergrove only R.A.F. We had No 120 Squadron with Shackletons Mk 1, No 202 Meteorological Squadron with Hastings, County of Ulster Squadron Auxiliary Air Force with their Vampires and a Maintenance Unit with various strange aircraft including a Supermarine Swift. Aldergrove was the only stationing my service when, as Station Duty Officer, I had an armed guard when inspecting at nightConversion to the Shackleton was a one to one with the various leaders and my flying conversion was with Stan Boutell , sadly to be lost with that crew in the South China Sea just two years later.
Soon after conversion the Suez War started and we were engaged in trooping with thirty soldiers sitting on the floor behind the main spar . We did manage to get them home to Lyneham in time for Christmas after the shambles of Suez. A trip to the Elsan was quite a struggle!
In the New Year I was given a Captaincy and conversion to the Mark 2.
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Glider pick-up
Gentlemen – your kind comments deserve responses, so here goes:-
Danny: The sad affair of the crocodile reminds me that, shortly after arrival on 194 Sqdn, I was regaled with the story of a krait (a small but highly venomous serpent) that emerged from behind the instrument panel during flight, being duly despatched by an alert copilot's kukri. As I heard this from several sources, I think it can be relied on as truth.
A twist on the snatch story is that I believe an attempt was made to develop a means of grabbing human beings, to be hooked up by passing aircraft. I think it was a US project, probably dreamt up by the CIA as a means of getting agents back to base in a hurry, but whether or not ever used in anger I can't say. Can anyone out there provide further enlightenment?
High Tow: No I don't recall a Kershaw, and have no record of such a name in my log book but then the RAF was a big place back in '45. As for silver-topped Horsas, there were certainly none at Leicester during my stay – wonder what the purpose was, but I think your suggestion is probably correct.
Your pseudonym suggest you were a glider pilot yourself – if so, more details pse!
Chugalug: Ref my ride in a snatched Hadrian, I concur that the army pilot was without doubt acting in the spirit of inter-service one-upmanship, and certainly cut things very fine indeed – but he timed it so perfectly, I think he must have tried it out before. Inter-service rivalry manifests itself in various ways, as I found out years later when I was the victim of an attempted stitch-up by the Senior Service – fortunately unsuccessful!
From the dates you quote, you must have been at Leicester not long after me.
Danny: The sad affair of the crocodile reminds me that, shortly after arrival on 194 Sqdn, I was regaled with the story of a krait (a small but highly venomous serpent) that emerged from behind the instrument panel during flight, being duly despatched by an alert copilot's kukri. As I heard this from several sources, I think it can be relied on as truth.
A twist on the snatch story is that I believe an attempt was made to develop a means of grabbing human beings, to be hooked up by passing aircraft. I think it was a US project, probably dreamt up by the CIA as a means of getting agents back to base in a hurry, but whether or not ever used in anger I can't say. Can anyone out there provide further enlightenment?
High Tow: No I don't recall a Kershaw, and have no record of such a name in my log book but then the RAF was a big place back in '45. As for silver-topped Horsas, there were certainly none at Leicester during my stay – wonder what the purpose was, but I think your suggestion is probably correct.
Your pseudonym suggest you were a glider pilot yourself – if so, more details pse!
Chugalug: Ref my ride in a snatched Hadrian, I concur that the army pilot was without doubt acting in the spirit of inter-service one-upmanship, and certainly cut things very fine indeed – but he timed it so perfectly, I think he must have tried it out before. Inter-service rivalry manifests itself in various ways, as I found out years later when I was the victim of an attempted stitch-up by the Senior Service – fortunately unsuccessful!
From the dates you quote, you must have been at Leicester not long after me.
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Indirect
The only discontinuity I can think of in my uncle's service might be in the reversion from SQ/L to PPO. As far as I know a PPO didn't have a commission and he most certainly did beforehand.
After an excellent landing etc...
After an excellent landing etc...
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Glider snatching...
I found this....
Glider Snatching - British Pathé
Not forgetting "Skyhook"...
Top Secret Weapons Revealed: Sky Hook : American Heroes Channel
Hope the sheep made it...(!)
Skyhook was also used operationally to retrieve film from reconnaisance satellites, descending by parachute after re-entry...
Glider Snatching - British Pathé
Not forgetting "Skyhook"...
Top Secret Weapons Revealed: Sky Hook : American Heroes Channel
Hope the sheep made it...(!)
Skyhook was also used operationally to retrieve film from reconnaisance satellites, descending by parachute after re-entry...
Harrym. The system you refer to is/was the Fulton recovery system used by US combat rescue units. It's a bit complicated and large thread drift but an interesting search at your leisure!
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Danny has a Sad Story to tell.
It was around this time of the year in '69, I think it was mid-afternoon, and it was a very windy day indeed. Normally the JPs always used the main 16/34 (7500 ft) runway, but this south-westerly gale was too much and they moved onto the shorter (4200 ? ft) 04/22 subsidiary. IIRC, the first 200 ft or so was a wartime extension which projected beyond the present taxiway (you may recall a similar arrangement at Thornaby in '54) - but in that case the "stub" was wired-off; this was still available for use, and of course used for landing, but as a take-off involved "back-tracking" out to the end, it was not being used for take-offs that day.
Nevertheless, JP IIIs had been using it all morning without difficulty, taking-off with plenty to spare. Well off to the side, the marshalling point was hard to see from the Tower, so the detail now reported comes entirely from the Runway Controller. I was the Watch Supervisor that afternoon, but as I was in the Approach Room at the time, knew nothing of the accident until it had happened.
It seems that the (solo) pilot had started well enough, the Runway Controller heard nothing unusual in the engine note, and the JP was accelerating slowly, but as it was into the teeth of the gale that was hardly surprising; all the JPs that the R/C had seen taking off since coming on watch that lunchtime had behaved in a similar way.
Coming up to the point where the R/C expected the aircraft to lift-off, the noise suddenly ceased. "Engine Failure", he thought. No problem, the barrier net was up, even if the pilot couldn't stop in time, he would go safely into that.
Then, to his astonishment, full power came on again. The pilot was trying to take-off after all ! But now the aircraft had slowed, there was not enough runway left. In a last, desperate attempt he managed to haul it off in a semi-stalled condition, wet-henned over the net, got it up to (perhaps) fifty feet. Then it stalled, the left wing dropped, it stall-turned and went straight into a field just beyond the airfield boundary. There was no fire.
At the cease of flying, Approach and I went over to the crash site to see if any clues could be gleaned, but it was all too plain. It had gone in vertically: the whole nose and cockpit area was destroyed back to the firewall. It was not survivable, death must have been instant.
A last, pathetic footnote: a small black-and-white cow, which had been grazing very close by, also lay dead. We could see no sign of injury and concluded that the poor beast had died of fright.
So now we knew what had happened. But no one could explain why. The most plausible partial suggestion was that, although his airspeed was building normally, the much slower groundspeed acceleration fooled him into believing that he was losing power. In which case, a decision to abandon take-off was correct (although mistaken).
But that he then made a second attempt to take-off is inexplicable, and must ever remain so (I do not think that the BoI could add much to what was already known). AFAIK, it was the only "fatal" during my time there.
And speculation is always vain when applied to "inexplicable" flying accidents. The recent MH370 case has many points in common with the AF447 four years before: each happened on a long ocean transit, there was no distress call, the aircraft simply disappeared. But, in the AF447 case, the early find of floating wreckage which had certainly come from the aircraft, provided a 'fix' which enabled, by a miracle of undersea salvage, the recovery of both recorders.
The tale they told could never have been guessed by even the wildest imagination. And, in the almost impossible event of the true story of MH370 coming to light, the same will probably be true.
Goodnight, everybody,
Danny42C.
Requiescant in Pace.
Nevertheless, JP IIIs had been using it all morning without difficulty, taking-off with plenty to spare. Well off to the side, the marshalling point was hard to see from the Tower, so the detail now reported comes entirely from the Runway Controller. I was the Watch Supervisor that afternoon, but as I was in the Approach Room at the time, knew nothing of the accident until it had happened.
It seems that the (solo) pilot had started well enough, the Runway Controller heard nothing unusual in the engine note, and the JP was accelerating slowly, but as it was into the teeth of the gale that was hardly surprising; all the JPs that the R/C had seen taking off since coming on watch that lunchtime had behaved in a similar way.
Coming up to the point where the R/C expected the aircraft to lift-off, the noise suddenly ceased. "Engine Failure", he thought. No problem, the barrier net was up, even if the pilot couldn't stop in time, he would go safely into that.
Then, to his astonishment, full power came on again. The pilot was trying to take-off after all ! But now the aircraft had slowed, there was not enough runway left. In a last, desperate attempt he managed to haul it off in a semi-stalled condition, wet-henned over the net, got it up to (perhaps) fifty feet. Then it stalled, the left wing dropped, it stall-turned and went straight into a field just beyond the airfield boundary. There was no fire.
At the cease of flying, Approach and I went over to the crash site to see if any clues could be gleaned, but it was all too plain. It had gone in vertically: the whole nose and cockpit area was destroyed back to the firewall. It was not survivable, death must have been instant.
A last, pathetic footnote: a small black-and-white cow, which had been grazing very close by, also lay dead. We could see no sign of injury and concluded that the poor beast had died of fright.
So now we knew what had happened. But no one could explain why. The most plausible partial suggestion was that, although his airspeed was building normally, the much slower groundspeed acceleration fooled him into believing that he was losing power. In which case, a decision to abandon take-off was correct (although mistaken).
But that he then made a second attempt to take-off is inexplicable, and must ever remain so (I do not think that the BoI could add much to what was already known). AFAIK, it was the only "fatal" during my time there.
And speculation is always vain when applied to "inexplicable" flying accidents. The recent MH370 case has many points in common with the AF447 four years before: each happened on a long ocean transit, there was no distress call, the aircraft simply disappeared. But, in the AF447 case, the early find of floating wreckage which had certainly come from the aircraft, provided a 'fix' which enabled, by a miracle of undersea salvage, the recovery of both recorders.
The tale they told could never have been guessed by even the wildest imagination. And, in the almost impossible event of the true story of MH370 coming to light, the same will probably be true.
Goodnight, everybody,
Danny42C.
Requiescant in Pace.
Last edited by Danny42C; 15th Jul 2014 at 22:33. Reason: Correction.
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Is there a Snake in the House ?
harrym, (not Chugalug)
I must say that the picture of the "dickey" laying about him with his kukri is an entertaining one ! This interests me personally, recalling (as you may) that I, too, carried a kukri when in full battle array in Burma. And when you come face to face with a krait in the narrow confines of a cockpit, you must do something quick with whatever comes to hand !
And you must score a "confirmed" first time - for there'll never be a second. Another option would be your Smith & Wesson, but you'd better be a very good shot (and in any case there'd be a hole in your aircraft).
After giving this some thought, best idea of all would be to take a pet mongoose with you on every sortie. Rikki-tikki-tavi (being the only animal that can beat a King Cobra to the draw :"Ha, the hooded Death has missed ! Woe to thee, Nag"), would do the business and would snuggle down quite happily, I should think, in your haversack when not on snake duty.
What I really cherish is the thought of the imperturbable Captain maintaining normal navigation while cold steel and bits of snake were flying about next door.
Danny.
I must say that the picture of the "dickey" laying about him with his kukri is an entertaining one ! This interests me personally, recalling (as you may) that I, too, carried a kukri when in full battle array in Burma. And when you come face to face with a krait in the narrow confines of a cockpit, you must do something quick with whatever comes to hand !
And you must score a "confirmed" first time - for there'll never be a second. Another option would be your Smith & Wesson, but you'd better be a very good shot (and in any case there'd be a hole in your aircraft).
After giving this some thought, best idea of all would be to take a pet mongoose with you on every sortie. Rikki-tikki-tavi (being the only animal that can beat a King Cobra to the draw :"Ha, the hooded Death has missed ! Woe to thee, Nag"), would do the business and would snuggle down quite happily, I should think, in your haversack when not on snake duty.
What I really cherish is the thought of the imperturbable Captain maintaining normal navigation while cold steel and bits of snake were flying about next door.
Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 16th Jul 2014 at 20:57. Reason: Wrong addressee ! (due to Senior Moment)
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Snakes alive!
Danny, I'm uncertain as to what stage of flight the reptilean incursion took place, but if at cruising altitude the creature could well have been sluggish due to being below its normal operating temperature - I believe snakes don't function too well when cold, but I stand to be corrected if any zoologists are out there.
Quite a few crew members carried kukris, although I was not one of them. As for pistols, the only time mine was used was in celebration of VJ Day when all six of my issued cartridges were discharged skywards (along with many others!).
Quite a few crew members carried kukris, although I was not one of them. As for pistols, the only time mine was used was in celebration of VJ Day when all six of my issued cartridges were discharged skywards (along with many others!).
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Snakes Alive !
harrym,
AFAIK, most of the air traffic over India and Burma during WWII was fairly low; 7-8000 ft providing a nice "Hill Station" climate in the cockpit in the hot weather. As there was nothing in India above 12,000 ft (if you keep away from the Himalayas - and there was no reason to go up there), I never heard of anyone using oxygen except, I suppose, the stalwarts who flew "over the Hump" to China.
Whatever zoologists may say, the only good krait is a dead krait IMHO. I had my kukri to cut my way through vegetation in the event of having to walk back. You were short-changed on your .38 ammo issue, I got 18 rounds in a little cardboard box, carted it all round for three years and handed it back untouched.
Blazing away into the sky in a feu-de-joie is all right, but a Bad Idea if up through the basha roof, as it may bring down invertebrates much better left where they are ! (And I hope you cleaned your pistol afterwards !)
Cheers, Danny
AFAIK, most of the air traffic over India and Burma during WWII was fairly low; 7-8000 ft providing a nice "Hill Station" climate in the cockpit in the hot weather. As there was nothing in India above 12,000 ft (if you keep away from the Himalayas - and there was no reason to go up there), I never heard of anyone using oxygen except, I suppose, the stalwarts who flew "over the Hump" to China.
Whatever zoologists may say, the only good krait is a dead krait IMHO. I had my kukri to cut my way through vegetation in the event of having to walk back. You were short-changed on your .38 ammo issue, I got 18 rounds in a little cardboard box, carted it all round for three years and handed it back untouched.
Blazing away into the sky in a feu-de-joie is all right, but a Bad Idea if up through the basha roof, as it may bring down invertebrates
much better left where they are ! (And I hope you cleaned your pistol afterwards !)Cheers, Danny
Of snakes, and aviation
Danny,
I well remember as an Aircraft Ground Engineer on the C130 circa 1990 doing a Belize schedule, and, on the morning of departure whilst entering the nose gear bay to remove the nose gear locking pin, was horrified to find some serpentine beast wrapped around the nose leg. Backing out, I alerted the Captain, and as always reverted to "awaiting further orders" mode. Well, long story short, after around four hours, a local expert was found who removed the snake without trouble, luckily we had time within crew duty hours to make Dulles (Washington) for the scheduled nightstop. Somehow, during the rest of my time as a GE, whenever I entered the nose wheel bay, I always did it with a feeling of trepidation. I really can't imagine an "in flight" viper on the loose.
Smudge
I well remember as an Aircraft Ground Engineer on the C130 circa 1990 doing a Belize schedule, and, on the morning of departure whilst entering the nose gear bay to remove the nose gear locking pin, was horrified to find some serpentine beast wrapped around the nose leg. Backing out, I alerted the Captain, and as always reverted to "awaiting further orders" mode. Well, long story short, after around four hours, a local expert was found who removed the snake without trouble, luckily we had time within crew duty hours to make Dulles (Washington) for the scheduled nightstop. Somehow, during the rest of my time as a GE, whenever I entered the nose wheel bay, I always did it with a feeling of trepidation. I really can't imagine an "in flight" viper on the loose.
Smudge
Totally off topic but a possibly mildly interesting aside - until fairly recently my family were the nervous owners of a kukri.
My maternal grandfather returned from India after WWI armed with one. Apparently he was given it by a Ghurka in admiration or friendship although I didn't hear that directly, sadly by the time I would have been old enough to understand Parkinson's disease had made him pretty much incoherent. Grandma was terrified about having it - with six children in a two up, two down it's hardly surprising as she didn't want one of them to find it.
I didn't know until relatively recently that had been handed over to my parents at the earliest opportunity - which made my mum equally terrified if not more so. Mum's world record class at worrying...
Six or seven years ago Mum asked how she/we were going to get rid of it - I'd completely forgotten about it. I hadn't a clue but suggested the Ghurka museum. With our family's usual lightning reactions, a couple of years later I asked the museum in Winchester if they'd like it. After initially suggesting granddad bought it from a bazaar as a souvenir and a couple of other rebuffs I sent them some photos.
It turns out they've got issued military kukris a-plenty but this was a genuine Nepalese made hill kukri used by soldiers for their private use and they hadn't got one. They have now.
I'd love to know the story of granddad being given it but of course I never will.
My maternal grandfather returned from India after WWI armed with one. Apparently he was given it by a Ghurka in admiration or friendship although I didn't hear that directly, sadly by the time I would have been old enough to understand Parkinson's disease had made him pretty much incoherent. Grandma was terrified about having it - with six children in a two up, two down it's hardly surprising as she didn't want one of them to find it.
I didn't know until relatively recently that had been handed over to my parents at the earliest opportunity - which made my mum equally terrified if not more so. Mum's world record class at worrying...
Six or seven years ago Mum asked how she/we were going to get rid of it - I'd completely forgotten about it. I hadn't a clue but suggested the Ghurka museum. With our family's usual lightning reactions, a couple of years later I asked the museum in Winchester if they'd like it. After initially suggesting granddad bought it from a bazaar as a souvenir and a couple of other rebuffs I sent them some photos.
It turns out they've got issued military kukris a-plenty but this was a genuine Nepalese made hill kukri used by soldiers for their private use and they hadn't got one. They have now.
I'd love to know the story of granddad being given it but of course I never will.
The Ghurkhas were heavily involved during the Indonesian Confrontation. I was once based at a Ghurkha Battalion HQ in the middle of Sabah where dinner was served on the regimental crockery and Tiger beer was consumed in silver goblets.
There was one annual ceremony that I heard about. It would involve the RSM beheading a young bull with one stroke of a five foot kukri and woe betide the regiment if he was not successful.
This required a bull which were in short supply in the sticks so a helicopter was requested. A Navy Wessex was tasked and owing to the obvious dangers of putting it inside it was heavily sedated, strapped into a harness and underslung.
Apparently, it woke up half way there and, seeing the world pass by 1,000 ft. under his hooves, got quite upset. This resulted in his disturbing his aerodynamic qualities markedly resulting in quite violent swinging and twisting.
No; they didn't bin him and send him off to an instant hamburger factory. They hung on to him, a dozen or so Ghurkhas held him down at the other end and that evening he went to the pastures in the skies.
There was one annual ceremony that I heard about. It would involve the RSM beheading a young bull with one stroke of a five foot kukri and woe betide the regiment if he was not successful.
This required a bull which were in short supply in the sticks so a helicopter was requested. A Navy Wessex was tasked and owing to the obvious dangers of putting it inside it was heavily sedated, strapped into a harness and underslung.
Apparently, it woke up half way there and, seeing the world pass by 1,000 ft. under his hooves, got quite upset. This resulted in his disturbing his aerodynamic qualities markedly resulting in quite violent swinging and twisting.
No; they didn't bin him and send him off to an instant hamburger factory. They hung on to him, a dozen or so Ghurkhas held him down at the other end and that evening he went to the pastures in the skies.
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Danny's sad story......
According to OD's excellent book "Category 5" this accident happened on the 30th September 1969 and involved a solo JP3, XN575, being flown by a student on 3 FTS.
The summary said he was seen to get airborne in a high nose-up attitude and when at the upwind end of the runway at c. 100 feet the left wing dropped and it spun in. The pilot ejected at c. 50 ft but was fatally injured.
The cause was put down to over-rotation on take off leading to loss of control.....
Virtually the same happened ten years later when I was a stude at 1FTS at Linton. A Foreign & Commonwealth student (ISTR from Sudan?) over-rotated a JP3 (which was not over-endowed with thrust
) and the result was that being on the wrong side of the drag curve it didn't accelerate. The result was a crash off the end of the runway. The amazing thing was that the crash crews found no sign of the pilot. When he was eventually found he was in the officers' mess having legged from the scene of his crime totally un-injured. He denied having been even on the flying programme that morning, never mind having signed the F700! Mud on his boots and flying suit rather gave the game away.......
A similar accident happened to a Lockheed T33 (Shooting Star) on take-off from Duxford in the 1980's which nearly ended in tragedy, with a heroic gib (guy in the back - an engineer) rescuing the pilot from the blazing wreckage. So the flight safety lesson is clear - there is always value in reading about other peoples' misfortunes before history repeats itself this time with YOU!
MB
According to OD's excellent book "Category 5" this accident happened on the 30th September 1969 and involved a solo JP3, XN575, being flown by a student on 3 FTS.
The summary said he was seen to get airborne in a high nose-up attitude and when at the upwind end of the runway at c. 100 feet the left wing dropped and it spun in. The pilot ejected at c. 50 ft but was fatally injured.
The cause was put down to over-rotation on take off leading to loss of control.....
Virtually the same happened ten years later when I was a stude at 1FTS at Linton. A Foreign & Commonwealth student (ISTR from Sudan?) over-rotated a JP3 (which was not over-endowed with thrust
) and the result was that being on the wrong side of the drag curve it didn't accelerate. The result was a crash off the end of the runway. The amazing thing was that the crash crews found no sign of the pilot. When he was eventually found he was in the officers' mess having legged from the scene of his crime totally un-injured. He denied having been even on the flying programme that morning, never mind having signed the F700! Mud on his boots and flying suit rather gave the game away.......A similar accident happened to a Lockheed T33 (Shooting Star) on take-off from Duxford in the 1980's which nearly ended in tragedy, with a heroic gib (guy in the back - an engineer) rescuing the pilot from the blazing wreckage. So the flight safety lesson is clear - there is always value in reading about other peoples' misfortunes before history repeats itself this time with YOU!
MB
Absolutely right. I was an avid reader of crash comics, (flight safety magazines) and on at least two occasions I had a similar problem to a previous published incident. Knowing what the cause possibly was and having learnt how to escape from it I survived.
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What a wonderful example of a PPRuNe Forum at its best ! You start with a Sad story, that brings forth another Sad strory that in turn has relevance to a Strange Story I have "on the stocks" and will presently launch.
And then a passing Press reference to a wayward crocodile leads naturally to a Snake, which leads naturally to a Kukri, which leads......
And all this due to the kindly forbearance of our wise Moderators, who are clearly imbued with the ancient Tao principle of "wu wei", which may be expressed as "masterly inactivity", or "knowing when not to act". And so have allowed this Best of All Threads to flourish as it does.
Back at the Ranch...
smujsmith,
It would have made an interesting entry in the 700, wouldn't it ? You did well to leave the beast alone for the expert to deal with. As for snake battles on the Flight Deck (harrym); at least his chap had a Handling Pilot to fly the thing while the hero dealt with the reptile. I would be doing battle with one hand while attempting to keep S&L with the other !...D.
DHfan,
You may recall what I said about kukris a couple of years ago:
"India has many small-gauge railways to places like Darjeeling, Dehra Dun (not sure), Chakrata - certainly ! While there I was told that the local kukri-smiths found rail steel just the job - it would take a lovely edge. Driver of 8.15 gets a shock when his loco drops on to the sleepers, (a length of line having been lifted during the night !")
Sounds like your Grandfather's kind of specimen - even if it was bought (like mine) from a bazaar. Can't remember what it cost, but it wasn't much.
I'm surprised you had such trouble disposing of yours. As for mine:
"The kukri was a most imposing piece of hardware, with its silver-banded grip, and the kit of two small skinning knives fitted into a silver-mounted scabbard. It came home with me, and on my return I ran into "Bert" Andrews, my pre-war line manager (and an ex-Captain in the RFC, flying Sopwith Camels).He'd climbed two rungs on the Civil Service ladder while I'd been away, and was now an S.E.O. in another Department."
"Before the war, he'd kept me spellbound with tales of his adventures, and when I went into the RAF gave me one of his old RFC tunic buttons for good luck. This has the same crown and eagle as an RAF button but with a "rope" design round the rim. I kept it for long enough, but somewhere it had got lost. Never mind, I'd had all the luck I could reasonably hope for."
"Bert had a teenage son who was an avid collector of exotic swords and knives. I passed the kukri on to him. There wasn't much call for them in Southport then. (Nowadays we'd have the Armed Response Squad round within the hour!)" AFAIK, neither the local Plod nor anyone else bothered about it (ah, the Good Old Days - '46).....D.
Fareastdriver,
The idea of a five-foot kukri makes my blood run cold (the RSM should have been able to cut the bull in half with that, if he got a good swing at it ! - and he would need two hands for the job, as the thing would weigh as much as a Crusader's broadsword). The standard blade would (from memory) be about 15 in long.
The secret of the kukri is in its shape, the blade starts narrow (and mine had a neat little double notch at the top to stop the blood running back and making your grip slippery), then broadens out into a wide curve before coming to the tip. In this way the greater part of the weight is out at the end (like a golf driver).
As the blade is kept sharp enough to shave with, your Gurkha has no trouble in whacking the head off anyone who displeases him with a single blow to the nape of the neck. A Gurkha attack is therefore, swift, silent and very effective as they enjoy their work; they are very good people to have on your side when push turns to shove: a bonus being that the morale of your enemy tends to plummet when they learn who they will shortly be facing.
I was told that, in the old days, a Gurkha youth was not rated as a man until he made his first human kill (and came back with the evidence). They practised on full grown goats (there was no wastage, as the goat would go into the curry. The goat skin might find its way to Europe, where it is made into highly prized, and hideously expensive, pilot's flying jackets).
I would suppose the bull carriage as external cargo would be extemely hazardous. I know the Army routinely carried mules in the Dakotas, and would think a mule quite capable of kicking the side out of the aircraft: only glad it wasn't me up front (Chugalug ? harrym ? Anybody ?).....D.
Madbob,
Here we have a perfect example of the Carlstrom Syndrome in action. I have not the slightest memory of an ejection before the crash, nor does the information from your reference awake the slightest glimmer of recollection. Having said that, I didn't think that JP IIIs had ejection seats - wrong again ! - YLSNED !) But why would the "summary" content itself with simply saying:
"The cause was put down to over-rotation on take off leading to loss of control....." That's perfectly obvious ! What about the take-off abandoned, then suddenly resumed ? That's the crux of the mystery. What does it say about that ?
I didn't dream this - everyone was talking about it for weeks after ! I call in support exmudmover (a QFI there '67-'70), who must remember the accident well.
("According to OD's excellent book "Category 5"), you can help me with a query on my next Post, Madbob, if you will. Btw, I had heard the story of the "missing" casualty before, but never knew it was at Linton.....D.
Goodnight, all. Danny.
And then a passing Press reference to a wayward crocodile leads naturally to a Snake, which leads naturally to a Kukri, which leads......
And all this due to the kindly forbearance of our wise Moderators, who are clearly imbued with the ancient Tao principle of "wu wei", which may be expressed as "masterly inactivity", or "knowing when not to act". And so have allowed this Best of All Threads to flourish as it does.
Back at the Ranch...
smujsmith,
It would have made an interesting entry in the 700, wouldn't it ? You did well to leave the beast alone for the expert to deal with. As for snake battles on the Flight Deck (harrym); at least his chap had a Handling Pilot to fly the thing while the hero dealt with the reptile. I would be doing battle with one hand while attempting to keep S&L with the other !...D.
DHfan,
You may recall what I said about kukris a couple of years ago:
"India has many small-gauge railways to places like Darjeeling, Dehra Dun (not sure), Chakrata - certainly ! While there I was told that the local kukri-smiths found rail steel just the job - it would take a lovely edge. Driver of 8.15 gets a shock when his loco drops on to the sleepers, (a length of line having been lifted during the night !")
Sounds like your Grandfather's kind of specimen - even if it was bought (like mine) from a bazaar. Can't remember what it cost, but it wasn't much.
I'm surprised you had such trouble disposing of yours. As for mine:
"The kukri was a most imposing piece of hardware, with its silver-banded grip, and the kit of two small skinning knives fitted into a silver-mounted scabbard. It came home with me, and on my return I ran into "Bert" Andrews, my pre-war line manager (and an ex-Captain in the RFC, flying Sopwith Camels).He'd climbed two rungs on the Civil Service ladder while I'd been away, and was now an S.E.O. in another Department."
"Before the war, he'd kept me spellbound with tales of his adventures, and when I went into the RAF gave me one of his old RFC tunic buttons for good luck. This has the same crown and eagle as an RAF button but with a "rope" design round the rim. I kept it for long enough, but somewhere it had got lost. Never mind, I'd had all the luck I could reasonably hope for."
"Bert had a teenage son who was an avid collector of exotic swords and knives. I passed the kukri on to him. There wasn't much call for them in Southport then. (Nowadays we'd have the Armed Response Squad round within the hour!)" AFAIK, neither the local Plod nor anyone else bothered about it (ah, the Good Old Days - '46).....D.
Fareastdriver,
The idea of a five-foot kukri makes my blood run cold (the RSM should have been able to cut the bull in half with that, if he got a good swing at it ! - and he would need two hands for the job, as the thing would weigh as much as a Crusader's broadsword). The standard blade would (from memory) be about 15 in long.
The secret of the kukri is in its shape, the blade starts narrow (and mine had a neat little double notch at the top to stop the blood running back and making your grip slippery), then broadens out into a wide curve before coming to the tip. In this way the greater part of the weight is out at the end (like a golf driver).
As the blade is kept sharp enough to shave with, your Gurkha has no trouble in whacking the head off anyone who displeases him with a single blow to the nape of the neck. A Gurkha attack is therefore, swift, silent and very effective as they enjoy their work; they are very good people to have on your side when push turns to shove: a bonus being that the morale of your enemy tends to plummet when they learn who they will shortly be facing.
I was told that, in the old days, a Gurkha youth was not rated as a man until he made his first human kill (and came back with the evidence). They practised on full grown goats (there was no wastage, as the goat would go into the curry. The goat skin might find its way to Europe, where it is made into highly prized, and hideously expensive, pilot's flying jackets).
I would suppose the bull carriage as external cargo would be extemely hazardous. I know the Army routinely carried mules in the Dakotas, and would think a mule quite capable of kicking the side out of the aircraft: only glad it wasn't me up front (Chugalug ? harrym ? Anybody ?).....D.
Madbob,
Here we have a perfect example of the Carlstrom Syndrome in action. I have not the slightest memory of an ejection before the crash, nor does the information from your reference awake the slightest glimmer of recollection. Having said that, I didn't think that JP IIIs had ejection seats - wrong again ! - YLSNED !) But why would the "summary" content itself with simply saying:
"The cause was put down to over-rotation on take off leading to loss of control....." That's perfectly obvious ! What about the take-off abandoned, then suddenly resumed ? That's the crux of the mystery. What does it say about that ?
I didn't dream this - everyone was talking about it for weeks after ! I call in support exmudmover (a QFI there '67-'70), who must remember the accident well.
("According to OD's excellent book "Category 5"), you can help me with a query on my next Post, Madbob, if you will. Btw, I had heard the story of the "missing" casualty before, but never knew it was at Linton.....D.
Goodnight, all. Danny.
Danny
Re your recent comments about snakes.
I was bothered by Puff Adders, but on the ground - see my post #4622 here:
http://www.pprune.org/military-aviat...ml#post8178203
Re your recent comments about snakes.
I was bothered by Puff Adders, but on the ground - see my post #4622 here:
http://www.pprune.org/military-aviat...ml#post8178203
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Glider (& other) pick-ups
Molemot:- Many thanks for your 5965, the Pathé clip brought back many memories - I had forgotten the Verey pistol signal from the ground. As for the bod snatch, words fail - think the first guy was wearing just a leather helmet, no hard hat.
Danny:- No I did not clean that pistol, the war was over and it was no longer needed; the only Japs I encountered after the surrender were more likely to present arms than fire at you!
Danny:- No I did not clean that pistol, the war was over and it was no longer needed; the only Japs I encountered after the surrender were more likely to present arms than fire at you!
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Snake in the Grass.
Warmtoast,
Your Bitis arietans looks a nasty piece of work ! Seems it has the same distinction as my krait, that of being the cause of more than any other snake bites in their respective lands.
Wiki says that the krait has the higher untreated mortality rate (70-80%), the Puff Adder >10% (but if it Bitises a bit harder, 52%). But your victim looks to have a harder time before he dies than mine.
Case of "you pays your penny, you takes your choice !", I suppose.
Danny.
Your Bitis arietans looks a nasty piece of work ! Seems it has the same distinction as my krait, that of being the cause of more than any other snake bites in their respective lands.
Wiki says that the krait has the higher untreated mortality rate (70-80%), the Puff Adder >10% (but if it Bitises a bit harder, 52%). But your victim looks to have a harder time before he dies than mine.
Case of "you pays your penny, you takes your choice !", I suppose.
Danny.
Despite having flown in the tropics for some considerable time I have never knowingly had reptiles in the aircraft. In Australia we picked up some really big mudcrabs that had been stunned by heavy naval gunfire and they woke up half back which kept the rear crew on their toes. As far as the cockpit goes I had this one in Borneo. I have posted this before, twice over five years, so some may be familiar with it.
Borneo mid sixties. Operating with a Whirlwind HC1 (S55 with a jet engine to you Americans) on the border with Indonesia. I was flying solo, no crewman, shuttling Ghurkhas rotating from an FOB called Pensiangan to our main base at Sepulot. Loading was simple: Hold up four fingers when you land and four Ghurkhas run in with their kit. One thumps your leg when they are ready and off you go. They tend to collect things so they would carry other packs apart from their army kit so allowing 220lbs each for a Ghurkha base transfer was about right.
I picked up the last stick, only three of them. They had a lot of stuff but weight wasn’t a problem so off I went. I had just settled in the cruise when this gibbon climbed up through the left hand footwell. He climbed onto the seat and looked at me. Not liking what he saw he turned and started to launch out through the port window. Just as he was going out he looked down and realised that he was a thousand feet above the trees so he grabbed the cyclic and pulled himself back in again. Now both of us were looking UP at the trees.
He was now terrified so he jumped for comfort to the nearest human, i.e.me. In a flash he was wrapped round my shoulders and head and trying to strangle me. I got him off and as I pushed him back to the other side two sets of brown hands poked through the floor to recover him. One hand got hold of a leg but little gibbon wasn’t interested. There are lots of things to grab hold of if you don’t want to go out through the floor. Cyclics, collectives, speed select levers, HP cocks and he was having a go at most of them.
There was nothing I could do. I had clamped the collective so I had a hand free to fend off his attentions to the switches and cocks on the centre console. He wasn’t interested in going down and his keeper couldn’t get him down. The only thing I could do was put it on the ground and sort it out then.
There was a clearing with a sandy river bank ahead that I had used before so I set up the descent. As be passed through two hundred the gibbon started to take an interest in the scenery and fortunately the blokes downstairs did too so things calmed down a bit.
It was quite peaceful until we touched down and then the gibbon shook himself free and bolted through the port window. There was a screech as he passed the jet pipe but then he disappeared on all fours into the trees at ten o’clock. Two nanoseconds later a Ghurkha rocketed after him with his Armalite and disappeared into the same trees. I was now stuck. I couldn’t shut down as in Borneo a river can go from zero to twenty feet of water in five minutes and I didn’t have enough fuel to wait very long. After a minute or so I managed to get the attention of one of the other passengers and got him to climb up the side of the aircraft so I could shout at him.
He didn’t speak English so I pointed in the last known position of his mate and held out my hands in a query fashion. He gave me a thumbs up, spun a finger and pointed upwards. I repeated his sign language and he nodded and gave another thumbs up. With that he climbed back into the cabin and thumped my leg to show that they were ready. Not a lot I could do so I took off and flew to Sepulot.
We were living in the Ghurkha officer’s basher so I collared OC HQ Coy and told him what had happened. I described where I had left him but he wasn’t concerned. “He’ll be back tomorrow,” and he was. Complete with gibbon..
Borneo mid sixties. Operating with a Whirlwind HC1 (S55 with a jet engine to you Americans) on the border with Indonesia. I was flying solo, no crewman, shuttling Ghurkhas rotating from an FOB called Pensiangan to our main base at Sepulot. Loading was simple: Hold up four fingers when you land and four Ghurkhas run in with their kit. One thumps your leg when they are ready and off you go. They tend to collect things so they would carry other packs apart from their army kit so allowing 220lbs each for a Ghurkha base transfer was about right.
I picked up the last stick, only three of them. They had a lot of stuff but weight wasn’t a problem so off I went. I had just settled in the cruise when this gibbon climbed up through the left hand footwell. He climbed onto the seat and looked at me. Not liking what he saw he turned and started to launch out through the port window. Just as he was going out he looked down and realised that he was a thousand feet above the trees so he grabbed the cyclic and pulled himself back in again. Now both of us were looking UP at the trees.
He was now terrified so he jumped for comfort to the nearest human, i.e.me. In a flash he was wrapped round my shoulders and head and trying to strangle me. I got him off and as I pushed him back to the other side two sets of brown hands poked through the floor to recover him. One hand got hold of a leg but little gibbon wasn’t interested. There are lots of things to grab hold of if you don’t want to go out through the floor. Cyclics, collectives, speed select levers, HP cocks and he was having a go at most of them.
There was nothing I could do. I had clamped the collective so I had a hand free to fend off his attentions to the switches and cocks on the centre console. He wasn’t interested in going down and his keeper couldn’t get him down. The only thing I could do was put it on the ground and sort it out then.
There was a clearing with a sandy river bank ahead that I had used before so I set up the descent. As be passed through two hundred the gibbon started to take an interest in the scenery and fortunately the blokes downstairs did too so things calmed down a bit.
It was quite peaceful until we touched down and then the gibbon shook himself free and bolted through the port window. There was a screech as he passed the jet pipe but then he disappeared on all fours into the trees at ten o’clock. Two nanoseconds later a Ghurkha rocketed after him with his Armalite and disappeared into the same trees. I was now stuck. I couldn’t shut down as in Borneo a river can go from zero to twenty feet of water in five minutes and I didn’t have enough fuel to wait very long. After a minute or so I managed to get the attention of one of the other passengers and got him to climb up the side of the aircraft so I could shout at him.
He didn’t speak English so I pointed in the last known position of his mate and held out my hands in a query fashion. He gave me a thumbs up, spun a finger and pointed upwards. I repeated his sign language and he nodded and gave another thumbs up. With that he climbed back into the cabin and thumped my leg to show that they were ready. Not a lot I could do so I took off and flew to Sepulot.
We were living in the Ghurkha officer’s basher so I collared OC HQ Coy and told him what had happened. I described where I had left him but he wasn’t concerned. “He’ll be back tomorrow,” and he was. Complete with gibbon..