Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
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Fareastdriver,
Yes quite a number of PPRuNers have served under the banner of that famous feline (at various times, for it has had many reincarnations, Wiki knows all about it).
Bit of a shame that the suffix: "Hyderabad" seems to have been taken off the wording; rather ungrateful as the Nizam of that princely State coughed up for a whole squadron of aircraft for the RFC in WWI, and did the same for the RAF in WWII (I believe). Any offers of a squadron of F-35s from our business community (BAE ?). Thought not.
But then, I suppose, the Princely States have been airbrushed out of history, for the Governments of India and Pakistan are still slightly touchy about the British Raj (which at its height only directly governed 60% of the subcontinent: the remaining 40% being ruled indirectly through the Rajahs and Maharajahs). The Nizam of Hyderabad (reputedly the richest man in the world) was in the Premier League of these.
Danny.
"Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!"
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!"
(Kipling: Recessional)
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Flt.Lt. Jack Staffford (RIP) DFC
Geriaviator (your #8038),
So Jack Stafford lives to fight another day ! The Tempest must have been a tough old bird to survive collision with a Grid cable (luckily it didn't leave him dragging a hundred yards of the stuff behind him !) This is a fantastic story. It would be nice to know what damage his aircraft had suffered, but perhaps that will be in the next episode.
Nice, sad little story about Bill Williams.
Danny.
...We droned on just on top of the cloud ready to drop into it if attacked by German fighters. I was anxiously checking the instruments, for the engine had low oil pressure and a high temperature, but apart from being very noisy everything seemed to function...
Nice, sad little story about Bill Williams.
Danny.
Bit of a shame that the suffix: "Hyderabad" seems to have been taken off the wording;
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Fareastdriver,
Sign of the times, FED, I'm afraid. At least, they can't worry me much longer ! But I'm sorry for you youngsters, for things are going to get much worse before they get better.
À propos of nothing at all, a cat's erect tail is a sign of welcome and happiness, it seems,
Cheers, Danny.
Sign of the times, FED, I'm afraid. At least, they can't worry me much longer ! But I'm sorry for you youngsters, for things are going to get much worse before they get better.
À propos of nothing at all, a cat's erect tail is a sign of welcome and happiness, it seems,
Cheers, Danny.
a very happy new year Danny . . . we all want you to see in as many more as you can manage . .. . . . so keep taking the pills ...
It used to be said that a tom when about to spray had his mast at the vertical and his flag at the ready at the base.
and on the subject of the country not being in the very best of hands and other ills of society . .. . was it Oscar who said . . . Youth is wasted on the young?
a cat's erect tail is a sign of welcome and happiness,
and on the subject of the country not being in the very best of hands and other ills of society . .. . was it Oscar who said . . . Youth is wasted on the young?
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Danny, Fareastdriver ...
I've also seen some crests of 152 Squadron RAF with 'Hyderabad' airbrushed out ... shame on those responsible I say.
Coff.
PS. F/L R M D Hall DFC (ex 152 Squadron BoB) was a good friend ... sadly no longer with us ... RIP Sam.
I've also seen some crests of 152 Squadron RAF with 'Hyderabad' airbrushed out ... shame on those responsible I say.
Coff.
PS. F/L R M D Hall DFC (ex 152 Squadron BoB) was a good friend ... sadly no longer with us ... RIP Sam.
Gentleman Aviator
Halley (Squadrons of the RAF) records a very large number of "Empire" Sqns in addition to those mentioned above. I'll try and not take up too much space .........
They were:
18 & 257 - Burma. 35, 79, 99, 234 & 264 - Madras Presidency. 44, 237 & 266 - Rhodesia. 46 - Uganda. 56 & 130 - Punjab. 65, 92, 127 & 149 - East India. 72 - Basutoland. 74 - Trinidad. 75 - New Zealand. 122 & 132 - Bombay.
124 - Baroda. 125 - Newfoundland. 129 - Mysore. 139 - Jamaica. 167, 183, 218 & 249 - Gold Coast. 82 & 87 - United Provinces (where they?). 88 & 114 - Hong Kong. 91 - Nigeria. 97 - Straits Settlements.
102 & 165 - Ceylon. 174 - Mauritius. 214 - Federated Malay States. 222 - Natal. 247 - Canadian (not just "Canada"). 245 - Northern Rhodesia. 250 - Sudan. 253 - Hyderabad State (not just "Hyderabad" like 110 and 152).
When I was first on 72 ('71 to '73) ISTR the "Basutoland" name still being on some (old-ish) badges and memorabilia, but not when I returned a few years later.......
They were:
18 & 257 - Burma. 35, 79, 99, 234 & 264 - Madras Presidency. 44, 237 & 266 - Rhodesia. 46 - Uganda. 56 & 130 - Punjab. 65, 92, 127 & 149 - East India. 72 - Basutoland. 74 - Trinidad. 75 - New Zealand. 122 & 132 - Bombay.
124 - Baroda. 125 - Newfoundland. 129 - Mysore. 139 - Jamaica. 167, 183, 218 & 249 - Gold Coast. 82 & 87 - United Provinces (where they?). 88 & 114 - Hong Kong. 91 - Nigeria. 97 - Straits Settlements.
102 & 165 - Ceylon. 174 - Mauritius. 214 - Federated Malay States. 222 - Natal. 247 - Canadian (not just "Canada"). 245 - Northern Rhodesia. 250 - Sudan. 253 - Hyderabad State (not just "Hyderabad" like 110 and 152).
When I was first on 72 ('71 to '73) ISTR the "Basutoland" name still being on some (old-ish) badges and memorabilia, but not when I returned a few years later.......
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United Provinces
United Provinces - unsure of S African link, but Wiki (Yes I Know) has this link
United Provinces, former state, India
PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)
United Provinces, former state, India
PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)
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Squadron Badges
Whilst working on my History of No. 35 Squadron project my enquiring mind asked when and why the squadron ceased to be known as No. 35 (Madras Presidency) Squadron.
I haven't managed to answer that question, so if anyone does come up with the answer, please let me know.
I haven't managed to answer that question, so if anyone does come up with the answer, please let me know.
Yes, all par for the course I'm afraid. Editing Jack Stafford's memoirs has made me even more aware of the sacrifices made by New Zealand, who sent the very best of her young men from 1939-1945. The UK handsomely repaid them only 30 yrs later when we joined the Common Market and told Aussie and Kiwi alike to p--s off, you and your products aren't welcome now that we're friends with the Germans, the French, the Italians, the Spanish and even the Belgians, who will soon be buying our country anyway 
Rant over before my blood pressure gets overboosted. For Danny and others following the Stafford story, this is the only sortie he described in detail as it clearly had a great effect on him. The Tempests of 122 Wing carried a heavy load in the last year of the war as only they had the range and performance for low-level warfare, and paid a terrible price for it. More tomorrow.
Rant over before my blood pressure gets overboosted. For Danny and others following the Stafford story, this is the only sortie he described in detail as it clearly had a great effect on him. The Tempests of 122 Wing carried a heavy load in the last year of the war as only they had the range and performance for low-level warfare, and paid a terrible price for it. More tomorrow.
Last edited by Geriaviator; 4th Jan 2016 at 16:19. Reason: Add the picture
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Euro v Commonwealth
Geriaviator you are so right - have always considered it an utter disgrace that visitors from Oz or NZ need visas to enter a country that they or their forebears defended, the latter often at cost of their lives.
With all discredit to Ted Heath & his minions..........
harrym
With all discredit to Ted Heath & his minions..........
harrym
Gentleman Aviator
Editing Jack Stafford's memoirs has made me even more aware of the sacrifices made by New Zealand
Now the sponsored ££ Squadron
Nothing stays the same, folks, anyway the Government is planning to sell everything including the RAF to China. Until then, I see a commercial opportunity in the sponsored squadron:
84 (RENTOKIL) Sqn, SCORPIONES PUNGUNT (Scorpions sting)
617 (DYNOROD) Sqn, APRES MOI LE DELUGE (After me the flood)
6 (SPECSAVERS) Sqn, OCULI EXERCITUS (Eyes of the Army)
Aircraft, or the few of them we have left, will be painted in sponsor's livery. The scheme will finance a new Bureaucratic Wing for the Ministry of Defence.
84 (RENTOKIL) Sqn, SCORPIONES PUNGUNT (Scorpions sting)
617 (DYNOROD) Sqn, APRES MOI LE DELUGE (After me the flood)
6 (SPECSAVERS) Sqn, OCULI EXERCITUS (Eyes of the Army)
Aircraft, or the few of them we have left, will be painted in sponsor's livery. The scheme will finance a new Bureaucratic Wing for the Ministry of Defence.
Did a dead colleague bring Jack home through the flak and the weather?
Post no. 20 from the memoirs of Tempest pilot Flt Lt Jack Stafford, DFC, RNZAF
Post no. 20 from the memoirs of Tempest pilot Flt Lt Jack Stafford, DFC, RNZAF
AFTER SOME time Bev indicated a reduction in height and we dropped into the cloud gradually lowering through it in tight formation. We broke cloud about 1000ft and were met by a mass of flak, for they were waiting for us. Bev went onto his back and disappeared beneath me and I was almost blown upside down as a large hole appeared in my starboard wing close to my cannons. I pulled up into the cloud, with the flak all around me providing a most disconcerting scene, and flew south-west for some time, quite sure that I was the only one left. Again I broke cloud to try and locate my position and saw an airstrip with a windsock but no sign of any aircraft or transport. I thought it might have been recently captured by the Allies and could be in south-eastern Holland.
My engine was giving trouble, running rougher than ever and the temperature was alarming. I thought I should try to put it down and approached the airfield. I felt I must be in southern Holland by now and I did a cautious circuit, but as I was on the downwind leg I became apprehensive. Something didn't look right and when I opened up and started to climb away I was again subjected to some very unpleasant flak, mighty close. I was still in enemy country, so I remained in the cloud continuing SW but was starting to doubt the compass and everything else. Finally the motor started to miss and smelled dangerously hot, with oil pressure right down and vibrations coming through the stick and rudder pedals.
The cloud had lowered even more and I was just skimming along its base looking at the dark landscape beneath. I saw a village and flew towards it, deciding that if I were in the British-American zone, transport would be there and if Allied, it would be easily identified. I passed over the village very low and thank God, I saw big white stars on the tops of several trucks, with a large ploughed field suitable for a belly landing.
As I turned and lined up for the approach I was amazed to see recall rockets piercing the mist in the distance, obviously from an airfield. My chances of survival would be better there, with a 'fire truck and meat wagon.' I made for it, nursing that faithful old kite through the gathering gloom. As the strip came into sight I couldn't believe it was Volkel, the strip I had left to go on this show! I approached without any circuit, dropped my wheels, got the green lights, dropped the flaps, and found no flaps. That didn't matter at Volkel, with the length of runway on this ex-Luftwaffe airfield I had plenty of room. I glided over the perimeter track and touched down on the airfield I had despaired of ever seeing again. Home, safe, alive, no more flak until tomorrow, I could hardly believe it.
In the mess I was congratulated, even by our Kiwi Group Captain Pat Jameson, on my great navigational feat in that weather, with no radio and a badly damaged aircraft. I said nothing but wondered how in hell I had get home, for I had had no idea where I was. Was some unknown instinct guiding me the 70 miles from that flak-torn little town? Was it perhaps the soul of Billy Williams in the cockpit with me? Did we come home together?
Bev Hall had survived to arrive back long before me with an aircraft as battered as mine. Five days later we were together, just the two of us, high in that cold and merciless German sky when he was shot down and killed by a Focke-Wulf 190.
My engine was giving trouble, running rougher than ever and the temperature was alarming. I thought I should try to put it down and approached the airfield. I felt I must be in southern Holland by now and I did a cautious circuit, but as I was on the downwind leg I became apprehensive. Something didn't look right and when I opened up and started to climb away I was again subjected to some very unpleasant flak, mighty close. I was still in enemy country, so I remained in the cloud continuing SW but was starting to doubt the compass and everything else. Finally the motor started to miss and smelled dangerously hot, with oil pressure right down and vibrations coming through the stick and rudder pedals.
The cloud had lowered even more and I was just skimming along its base looking at the dark landscape beneath. I saw a village and flew towards it, deciding that if I were in the British-American zone, transport would be there and if Allied, it would be easily identified. I passed over the village very low and thank God, I saw big white stars on the tops of several trucks, with a large ploughed field suitable for a belly landing.
As I turned and lined up for the approach I was amazed to see recall rockets piercing the mist in the distance, obviously from an airfield. My chances of survival would be better there, with a 'fire truck and meat wagon.' I made for it, nursing that faithful old kite through the gathering gloom. As the strip came into sight I couldn't believe it was Volkel, the strip I had left to go on this show! I approached without any circuit, dropped my wheels, got the green lights, dropped the flaps, and found no flaps. That didn't matter at Volkel, with the length of runway on this ex-Luftwaffe airfield I had plenty of room. I glided over the perimeter track and touched down on the airfield I had despaired of ever seeing again. Home, safe, alive, no more flak until tomorrow, I could hardly believe it.
In the mess I was congratulated, even by our Kiwi Group Captain Pat Jameson, on my great navigational feat in that weather, with no radio and a badly damaged aircraft. I said nothing but wondered how in hell I had get home, for I had had no idea where I was. Was some unknown instinct guiding me the 70 miles from that flak-torn little town? Was it perhaps the soul of Billy Williams in the cockpit with me? Did we come home together?
Bev Hall had survived to arrive back long before me with an aircraft as battered as mine. Five days later we were together, just the two of us, high in that cold and merciless German sky when he was shot down and killed by a Focke-Wulf 190.
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Funny, that.
Geriaviator (Jack Stafford's Memoir Post 20),
Strange things happened in war, which were difficult to brush off as coincidences. I offer a much less dramatic case of my own in Burma (Post p.135 #2692, block lettering mine):
Makes you think !
Danny.
...Was some unknown instinct guiding me the 70 miles from that flak-torn little town?...
....I must have run a good 40 miles north of target with him sitting on my tail, so I had to guess a rough heading for base. Keeping climb power on the engine, I steamed along over the endless mountain ridges, feeling very lonely and insignificant in a very wide world.
Half an hour later, I spotted five dots on the horizon, dead ahead. It was the rest of the formation, dawdling along to let me catch up, and wondering where I'd got to. And I'd run straight up behind them! Stew was amazed (so was I) and bored the Sgts. Mess rigid when we got back, bragging about the navigational genius he'd got for a pilot (I didn't disillusion him!)..
Half an hour later, I spotted five dots on the horizon, dead ahead. It was the rest of the formation, dawdling along to let me catch up, and wondering where I'd got to. And I'd run straight up behind them! Stew was amazed (so was I) and bored the Sgts. Mess rigid when we got back, bragging about the navigational genius he'd got for a pilot (I didn't disillusion him!)..
Danny.