Things didn't go according to the Air Force's plan that first night. First of all the barracks which were in the form of an H and was equipped with central heating and double glazing [what's double glazing you ask] with the very large heater situated in the center of the H with the ablution block at the end of each barracks.            

We from down under were not used to all this heat and that there was no fresh air flowing around and so the windows soon were partially opened, the heater turned off and the room made more comfortable for us Kiwis.

Funnily enough the Canucks [Canadians] were certainly not going to put up with this and so a good scuffle between us Kiwis and the Canucks started as to whether the heater was to stay off and also should the windows be closed.      

They said no and we said yes. Peace was  restored  temporally  by the S.P.'s [Service Police] for even though we had to report to the hangar in the morning don't think that that the battle was over. That evening battle lines were again drawn and the fighting was resumed in earnest and once more the S.P.s had to intervene to restore peace.     

Peace was eventually solved by shifting the Canucks into another barrack while we the victors stayed in our now modified barracks. I must admit that comes the next winter one soon realised what central heating and double glazing was all about. But for now, we were victorious and had shown these foreigners that we were a force to be reckoned with.          

But for now the serious job of learning to fly was of paramount importance and so we were given our training schedule. That was we were split up into two groups, A Flight and B Flight. A Flight would fly in the morning and B Flight would go to school and the next day the roles would be reversed. And so on and so on ad infinitum. Now there's a word you don't get to spell very often, thank goodness.

Well on the first morning we all trudged over through slush as there were still signs of winter around, to the hangars and we were introduced to our instructors. Now mine was a pigeon-toed chain smoking Canadian [it wasn't a very thick chain] and as I was not and have never been even to this day a smoker, this was very annoying. Even though smoking was prohibited in the aircraft you just try telling that to him.          

Still he was an excellent instructor. Now the usual two pupils per instructor was still the order of the day with my partner now being one LAC Pettit.

 

LAC Dave Petitt in the pilot's seat

So out to the flight line we went to inspect the planes we would be flying. But wait a minute, what's this!? These aren't OXFORDS but a thing called a CESSNA CRANE.

Trevor in front of a Cessna Crane

  Trevor in the Crane's cockpit

These looked far too flimsy and not what I had expected at all. I knew that we would not be learning on ANSONS as these were considered too unforgiving as an aircraft and did not have enough vices built into them as we would expect from later aircraft
  
These Cessna Cranes proved to be excellent aircraft in which to learn as they had everything on board and even c/s [constant speed] propellers, although till we had mastered the art of twin engine flying and had gone solo, we had fixed wooden props to abuse. These aircraft were considered hot aircraft to fly and they certainly were. I was also horrified to find that the control wheel was not mounted on a column but came out of the dash.
  
But before being let loose on the aircraft the instructor unzipped the rear fuselage cover which was situated just behind the rear seat and showed us the very flimsy looking fuselage.
  
“If you think that you are going to fool around with this aircraft just think again.' So it looks like there will be no aerobatics as such. Pity.
  
But enough of this small talk - there is flying to be done and we the pupils are anxious to get cracking. Just get used to this Air Force language as we are learning the lingo fast.
  
As the Air Force did not want to see their aircraft suffer some ignominious fate, at least not in front of them, we were therefore sent out to an auxiliary field far away from their eyes. Ours just happened to be a place called Vanscoy. Why I'll never know, because there were no houses around and in fact the only thing around was a small hangar with the field surrounded by a standard issue wire fence just to keep any animals out - or rather to keep us in - and because of the official secret act they the animals could not divulge the secret of why we were here. We were placed in the middle of nowhere with plenty of Alkaline lakes around which had a habit of changing shape and so was of no use in map reading.
  
But it was a perfect place for us learners to practice landings, etc. So off we go, my partner in the pilot's seat with the instructor in the co-pilot's seat and me sitting in  the  back with my parachute strapped to my backside, as we were required to wear it at all times when we flew, to locate and land at Vanscoy where I would get out and Pettit and the instructor would go and do battle.

When it came my turn to fly I was very surprised as to how much room we did not have when sitting in the seat and I am built on the short side. At last I am beginning to look and feel like a pilot. This aircraft was beginning to look like we were in the real world of flying, for instead of just one set of engine instruments to monitor we were blessed with two sets and we did not have the luxury of sitting down and studying them for they were there, we were there, so just get used to them and don't forget them, at your peril. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
  
Whereas the old Tiger had just a fuel cock to turn on or off, this one had not one but two and also a lever called a cross feed plus a fuel pump that had to be activated on both take off and landing as well as if you suffered some kind of engine malfunction. So the gloves were off and you learnt the hard way fast.
  
Not only that but with a twin, or in fact any multi-engine, you had to worry about a motor or worse a couple of motors failing at some time in your career and indeed I was blessed with this happening more than once and much sooner than any one could imagine, much less me.
  
So even though I took only six and a half hours to go solo in my beloved Tiger, no-one could be expected to be a Superman and do the same sort of time.

You see this aircraft also had a wheel lock lever perched up in the roof console to the right of the first pilot and it also carried the tail trim handle as well as the rudder trim. The tail wheel had to be centralized and then locked in the straight ahead position prior to take off and for landing, and God help you if you had forgotten to check as no one else would and upon landing you could expect the unexpected. This of course would earn you a black mark in your log book after you had extradited yourself from whatever mess you had got yourself into.
  
You see you could or should lock the tail wheel after you had turned onto the runway and you had made sure that you were in fact facing straight ahead. This was accomplished by standing on the brakes one at a time and wobbling the aircraft from side to side to make sure the tail wheel was in fact facing in the right position, but due to your unbridled enthusiasm and eagerness to get off the ground you may not have noticed the slight shuddering from the rear as you concentrated on the take off. But when you landed OH BOY! So you see concentration on what you were doing was paramount, as this could be only the start of your troubles.
  
We were also required to master another simulator, which was the bomb aiming device which we as potential bomber pilots were supposed to know. For this, your offsider would act as pilot while you would assume the bomb aimers position then when you had completed the task you would swap over. This was in a building at the back of the main hanger.
  
It was quite fascinating seeing where the bomb would burst had it been a real exercise and you were actually flying over the terrain unfolding before you for at the precise moment of impact the map below you would stop and a white light would appear at the spot where the bomb had landed. So you knew by how much you had missed the target. This exercise was for the Air Force's benefit in that you as 2nd pilot on some missions should be able to take over any position in the aircraft as you were trained for all positions.
  
This was at a time when the Air Force considered that there had to be two pilots on board even though the aircraft might only have one set of controls. All was not lost however as they presumed that if any one was killed or wounded then the 2nd pilot could take over his position. However what the powers-that-be had forgotten was that if both pilots got the chop, then who the hell would fly the plane if it was flyable?
  
Here again, the Air Force had an answer. As some of the crew would have been washed out trainee pilots. What better way to utilize them than to give some one in the crew a bit of flying practice for at least if they could keep the plane reasonably level they could get home but not necessary land it. This was the case on quite a few occasions with planes and crews damaged on operations.

Yes we also had to understand the intricacies of the working of machine guns that we would be using in the aircraft, as well as having to understand the workings of the wireless. This consisted of two very large units - not your pocket size radio but each unit would be a couple of feet long by eighteen inches high and some twelve inches wide. One being the transmitter and the other the receiver. Apart from learning just how to repair the thing we also had to be able to use the Morse key and send and receive at least 10 words per minute. Also don't forget that we still had to master the LINK trainer as well as doing PT.
  
And don't forget that if we had a washout day or even if we didn't we would still have to do extra PT. Did you think that the Air Force would neglect our health, do you? Not on your bloody Nelly. You got your dose of PT whether you wanted it or not. At least they made no distinction or considered your delicate condition, especially after a night out on the town.
  
Now as it was early on in our training, and because for some unknown reason the CO [Commanding Officer] did not like us Kiwis as on one Thursday evening he issued an order confining us to camp [silly old man], but as we, the Kiwis, had other plans for the Friday evening no one was going to upset them and so a plan was hatched smartly.
  
Now when the bus for the city arrived at the guard house Thursday night we were ready with our plan. One of the Canucks - whom by this time we had kissed and made up with literally - then went out to the driver, who was a civilian, and had a conversation with him. By this time the Canucks, who were on leave, started to go and check out at the guard house. So while they were milling around we just walked up to the gates en masse and passed through the guard house, wishing the Sergeant goodnight in the process, and promptly climbed aboard the bus who also promptly departed leaving one very astonished Sergeant of the guard wondering what the hell has happened.
  
You do not think for one moment that he would take this lying down. OH NO he was going to spoil our fun. That is if he could find us. And so he set forth with a few of his trusty MP's and he did manage to pick up two that were taken back to the base but for the rest of us lets just say that our evening went very well with what we had put into place.
  
Of course the evening must come to an end and so it was time to return. So being dutiful little boys we caught the last bus back to the camp. On arrival we went through the usual routine and that was to let the Canucks go through first to sign in, and in the midst of milling around the entrance we, the Kiwis, went in behind them and being very courteous wished the Sergeant a goodnight, much to his chagrin. We could tell he was surprised just by looking at his opened mouth.
  
By the time he had pulled himself together we were all back in the barracks and by the time he had got his MP's together we were either in bed or just getting into bed. Any way we were confined to the barracks weren't we, so how could it have been us!
  
Now the morning duly arrived and being a Friday a C.O.'s parade was on order. Well we dutifully formed up, you just could not say that we were not obedient. The CO arrived and flag raising was the next thing on the agenda. So the parade was brought to attention, the order given to raise the flag, and the folded flag was duly started on it's way up - but wait what's this - for at the end of the yard arm hanging in all their glory was a pair of woman's standard issue panties. So how did they get up there and the most important query was who's were they?
  
To say that the CO was not amused would be the understatement of the year. Needless to say just who climbed up the pole and whose panties they were was never established. I do have my suspicions as to who climbed the pole but as for the panties, well that's another matter. Now it seems strange that from that moment onwards we received no more hassling from any one in charge. It seemed as if the Canucks were admitting defeat. But it was not all over for the WAAF's as they were subject to a kit inspection to see if the culprit was missing any issue panties, but no shortages were found, and so the miscreant was never discovered.
  
On our graduation we were at last given the reason for all the trouble but onwards and upwards you will just have to wait for the reason.
  
Navigation was very high on our training agenda and it was not easy to navigate around Saskatchewan as although there were plenty of alkaline lakes around every one looked the same with no redeeming features to isolate and identify them, and as for the railway lines, depending on your direction, were just non existent. So you were kept on your toes so to speak to make sure that you did all the right calculations and adjustments.

On one of my final navigation tests I was put under the hood and made to do a triangulated course lasting two odd hours and you should if you if your calculations were correct finish over the airfield.

Well all went well [so I thought] and as I got near the end of the final leg I waited to see what my instructor wanted me to do when he told me to do a rate 1 turn to port when I thought that I had finished the exercise.

As I went into the turn to indicate to him that the exercise was finished he proceeded to remove the hood from around me and told me to look down my left [port] wing and there in all its glory was Saskatoon airfield and I was circling it at 1000ft . This of course gave me very good marks once again for navigation and also gave me great confidence in my ability to navigate.
  
Now around this time there occurred an incident that was to hold a profound affect on my future flying ability.

On August the 5th, 1942 I along with LAC WEBB was ordered to an exercise under the hood. So as I would be under the hood I was the 2nd pilot and Webb was designated 1st pilot and in command - being the safety pilot. It was usual that after 35hrs flying all trainee pilots were permitted to act as safety pilots when another trainee was doing instrument flying. A system that worked well. My exercise on this occasion was to practice taking off under the hood, climbing, doing rate 1 and 2 turns - both climbing, and level flying and then letting the 1st pilot land from the right hand seat while you sat peacefully on your side after you had removed the curtains.

At this point in time I must explain the blind flying hood. This consisted of a very heavy cotton, lined on the outside with a thick coating of rubber. This material was used for army ponchos, etc. And also used as ground sheets. This sheeting was attached to the aircraft by dome fasteners.
  
Now to attach you started at the entrance door behind the pilot on the left then, it went across the windshield behind the Kolsman compass which was in the center of the windscreen high up, then past the throttle quadrant, turning to come back past the throttles and the roof trims and tail wheel lock to just before the rear seat. The whole lot reaching to the floor except for the piece across the windscreen, so you see you were well and truly hemmed in. Now the left hand pilot [me] was virtually flying a single-seater for although you had all the main blind flying instruments in front of you, you did not have the engine instruments .
  
This is where a problem showed up. Now Webb turned me onto the runway [remember that I can't see} and I checked the tail lock, for remember the right hand pilot can not reach the locking lever due to the blind flying cover being in the way. At this point Webb gave me the OK to proceed and handed control over to me, and so I set my DI [directional indicator] for take off and then advanced the throttles keeping the aircraft straight. Getting the tail up to take off position we roared down the runway and just at the point of take off the right hand motor [starboard] started to slow down, but I was already off the ground and had started to raise the undercarriage as we were now at flying speed.
  
This of course meant that I was committed to continue flying and also had to go into motor failure check but remember that I cannot see the engine instruments but on asking my co-pilot what was showing he assured me that every thing was normal and he then proceeded to pull the curtain down whilst I on the other hand was doing the one handed juggle. This consisted of making sure that you did not shut the wrong motor down as this would have been very embarrassing and it could have been disastrous as well.
  
But at this point I was committed to flying and thank goodness for this type of aircraft as it had the power to climb on one motor. Not finding anything wrong with the oil pressure, engine temp, cylinder head temp, or in fact anything that would indicate a problem, I proceeded to fly a left hand circuit as this was the correct way to go seeing as to how it was the right hand motor that was playing up. So now I'm heading downwind and seeing as to how the aircraft is maintaining height I decided that I could make the field alright so lowered the undercarriage and prepared to do a quick turn onto the runway and to heck with everybody else.
  
Now we the Air Force had very strict orders in place and in that if a passenger aircraft was coming into land and remember that we the Air Force were only guests at this airport as this was a civilian owned field and not an Air Force one and that they the civilian aircraft had absolutely the right of way. That may be their way of thinking but I'm a coming in 04/18/05 come hell or high water. The aircraft concerned was a BARKLEY GROW an aircraft very similar to a Lockheed 12 except this one was designed for Canadian conditions and it had a fixed aircraft but could also be fitted with skis or floats.
  
If the aircraft came from Winnipeg it would come straight in doing a right hand turn straight onto the runway thus cutting time in the air. Well I was on the cross wind leg when I saw him as he was just starting to turn onto the runway - but hey I've got a motor out although it was still turning and come what may I am going to land. However the pilot of the passenger plane was very intimidating and kept on his approach, and so did I as I lined the runway up for a single engine landing. No way was he going to intimidate me.

Well after a successful single engine landing with the passenger plane buzzing me I taxied over to the flightline with the offending motor still running although not at full pitch. But I was adamant that what I had experienced was a fact. Now the phones in the flight room were a buzzing just wanting my guts for garters and my flight commander, a NZ 'er told the airline for that was the people on the phone, that if I had trouble then and make no mistake I was entitled to priority and he would back me up 100%. So there. Well this episode was not finished even though both Webb and myself had given an account of what had transpired.
  
On testing the aircraft the fitter could find nothing wrong with the motor and it was delivering its full power and so I'm in very big trouble. However the Lord must have taken a shine to me in the guise of one Flight Sergeant who decided to do another test himself.
  
He ordered that the aircraft be well and truly chocked and getting a couple of erks [the lowest rank in the Air Force] to hold the tail down he proceeded to open up the throttle to full power, on the offending motor . He had calculated how long it would have taken me to reach the point of take off and timing the motor he just waited and low and behold right on cue the motor slowed down and nothing he did could coach it into giving any more power. So he now ordered a much closer inspection of the throttle linkage.
  
All aircraft have every bolt and nut wired in the locked position so on checking the throttle he could find nothing wrong but on holding the butterfly in the carburetor and the getting someone else to work the throttle he found that although the throttle moved the butterfly stayed still. Problem solved. I was exonerated at last by a very dedicated F/Sgt, bless him. Still this episode was not over yet as my flight commander rang up the airlines office and told them in no uncertain terms that when one of his pilots, note that he called me a pilot, was in trouble he - the pupil - would land in preference to any airliner. So there.
  
This episode was the beginning of quite a few forced landings but it taught me a very valuable lesson, one that I did not forget as it was to stand me in good stead in latter life and that was when you made a decision do not change it. This was what the Air Force would have you do. So No. 1 forced landing is out of the way. Of course the entry of my log book now had to be changed as I had now been told that I was the designated captain and my partner now became the 2nd pilot, and you can see the change in my log book as the original entry had to be vigorously rubbed out and the new entry written over the top.
  
There was one incident that occurred one day, the name of the pilot escapes me but I do have a photo of the plane as the fitters were repairing it.
  
Now the Cessna Crane had a unique under carriage retraction system. This consisted of a screw jack , the screw being turned by an electric motor with a chain drive driving the screw so it was possible to land on the aircraft when it was in any position without fear of the undercarriage collapsing. Well on this fine day either on take off or landing, I don't remember which but I suspect it was on take off, the undercarriage was half way up [so it must have been take off] when the chain on the starboard side [r/h] broke and so now he had a problem as one wheel could go up or down but the other was stuck in the half way position.

The Crane being lifted after the chain had broken

Having no radio, no one could inform him of the trouble but his on board indicator would show him that he had trouble and that one of his wheels was not where it was supposed to be. A dilemma now arose for the pilot - do I put it down or do I raise it - that was the question. Shakespeare couldn't have put it better. Decisions, decisions. Now if he had known in what position the damaged wheel was [it was still attached wasn't it!] he could have lowered the other undercarriage down until the two were level and then he could have made a hairy landing. But not knowing this he put the other side down and came in for a lopsided landing with only one broken propeller to show for it. A bloody good landing under the circumstances.

It was also about this time that I was doing a dual cross-country exercise with another trainee in the second pilots seat, he was to navigate while I did the flying. Now normally if I was to fly in the morning I would not have my usual breakfast which was a grapefruit plus other cereals. One reason was that I would be taken short after about two hours so I would be close to a toilet and safe. But this morning I knew we were having lectures so I indulged. How wrong can one get as on arrival at the hanger we were informed that the lectures were canceled and we would be flying instead as there was some pupils who where behind in their navigation and seeing it was such a beautiful day what better way than to go fly in the wild blue yonder.

I was told to be 1st pilot and my co-pilot would be doing the navigation and all I had to do was to follow his instructions and not get lost. As if we would. And so it was up, up and away into the wild blue yonder until we were about 1 ½ hours into the exercise and you can guess what happened next.

Well these aircraft do not have an Elsen can in them [a toilet] so what to do! A brilliant idea flashed before my eyes. Boy oh boy, am I good.

“Give me your map,” I said, with some authority I might add. Remember I am Captain of this aircraft and must be obeyed. Rather reluctantly he complied. So far, so good. Now as Captain I ordered him to fly this aircraft nice and steady [ boy am I good] with no sudden movements and laid his map out on the floor behind the main spar which was higher than the floor then lowering my pants I relieved myself of my pent up emotions, well motions anyway. Not gift wrap you may note as I didn't have any ribbon on hand, and as we were way, way out in the prairies with nary a house, railway line, or road in sight I pushed the map out of the window and let it float gently earthwards. Now my offsider bleated rather painfully, “How am I going to explain the loss of my map?”

Well it was not my problem but in fairness I should help him out.
 

“You could say that it was sucked out the window when you opened it to get a better view”, see I can come up with good excuses sometimes. So another problem is solved. This being in charge is OK with me.

We had a visit one day from a Canadian built Hawker Hurricane fighter. What surprised me was the fact that it did not have a spinner on, just why has never been explained to me.

 

The Hurricane that visited. Numbered 5398, this Hurricane XII was built by the Canada Car and Foundry co. at Fort William, and was taken on strength with the RCAF on the 15th of July 1942 by No. 133 (Fighter) Squadron. This photo has to be around that time as it was before the aircraft was coded FN-L with the squadron. It had been inscribed at the factory with the nose-art legend "DONATIONS TO"MARCH OF DIMES" HELPED TO PURCHASE THIS AEROPLANE". March of Dimes was and is a Canadian charitable group that works with handicapped children, modelled after the US organization of the same name. The aircraft later served with Western Air Command, and it crashed on the 4th of February 1943 near Pender Island, British Columbia. It was subsequently written off and reduced to spares. The lack of spinner on the nose was common for Canadian-based Hurricanes with the Canadian Hamilton Standard propeller. Reference

Now the Lysander that I was to be acquainted with later on also never sported spinners, although most did in the UK possibly something to do with the cold or at least that's my explanation and I am sticking to it.

Now on his departure, the Hurricane pilot promised us a beat up with the blessing of the CO. Boy did he keep his word and what a sound that Merlin motor made and just how low could one go!

But time was marching on and soon we would be sitting our final exams but for some they would not make it as being forbidden to enter any Cumulonimbus clouds two of our class decided to do just that. They were buried a few days later.

Now our class consisted of not only us Kiwis but also English and Canadian pilots and we the Kiwis got through without loosing any of us.

It was on one of my final flying assessments with the Flight Commander [F/L Alington] that we took off facing North we then did a 180° turn and started to fly South but just wait a minute what the heck is that ahead of us - for as far as the eye could see there was an enormous threatening black line of what.

At the base was a rolling mass of dirt and dust and just at that moment although we were still some distance from  this  phenomenon  and  in  clear skies the wind hit us and we were propelled upwards even though the nose of the aircraft was being pointed to the ground the control column being pushed by both F/L Alington and myself our rate of climb without moving forward was at a terrific rate. The instructor decided to turn for home and we did smartly.

Now as we had taken off in the direction we now were facing the boss decided to go straight in and to hell with doing a circuit but as we got to the fence this unknown force also got there and we proceeded to go across the airfield wheels and flaps down and the ground passing underneath us at a great rate of knots and no way were we going to land.

As we got to the other end of the field F/L Alington did a split arse turn into the wind and pushed the nose down towards the ground. Then remarkably we were on the ground, and still in one piece.

“Just sit here and keep the motors running but don't try to move until someone comes over to you “And with that he hopped out of the aircraft and disappeared into the dust for that is what it was - a prairie dust storm. While sitting there wondering what was to happen an aircraft came along side me about 100ft up turned slowly to its left and ever so slowly sunk to the ground with first the wing then the motor hitting ground then it just rolled over onto its right side and proceeded to demolish the other side As the wings were built of wood you can imagine all the kindling wood around.

To add insult to injury another plane appeared on my right but he got down safely. Now what was amazing was the fact that neither plane was moving forward at the time of this episode so powerful was the wind. A few moments later four erks with handkerchiefs tied around their noses arrived two going to the tail and leaning on it while the other two went to the windward wing and held on to it and then signaled me to head towards the hangar. On arrival at the hangar, I was signalled to do an unheard of thing and that was to taxi into the hanger still with my motors going where the hangar doors were immediately closed and I was told to shut down.

This experience I do not want to ever do again. After the wind had passed and the casualty's totted up, there were surprisingly few serious casualties. Oh yes a few had managed to get to other fields and so were safe. This occurred on July 8th, 1942

Now a good slap up meal had been organised at the Besborough Hotel for us. This is or was the swankiest hotel in town and the meal was sort of a farewell dinner for having come this far.

 

The Besborough Hotel

Now the boys decided that as we had not at this stage had our final navigation test and seeing as to how, in their minds anyway, I was well in with the navigation instructor, I could get him drunk and ascertain just what to expect in the exams to come.

This was easier said than done as the more liquor the instructor drank the drunker he got and the tighter his mouth became. So for all our trouble we got nothing. This was unfortunate for some of the lads, as some were struggling and it was hope of course that he would relent and give us some hints on what he had in the exams.

You can't call that cheating, can you? Not when you have been given the answers. Most of the other instructors had at least given a hint of things to come, so he was not playing by our rules and it cost the boys a lot of money just to soften him up. Well I hope he had a very sore head next day, as comes exam time and I suppose we had better do the exam paper honestly.

Of course the day of the exam arrived and surprise, surprise, we all passed, so we did our money in for nothing. But here is the irony of it all for I received 99% for my paper and was told that no way could they give me full marks as the Air Force did not like to think that someone could manage it and so I was deducted 1 point for failing to put a comma or full stop in. Just how's that for logic.

Now comes the flying test, which I passed but not without an endorsement in my log book as I did not know the finer points, not of the flying but of the wing loading of the aircraft which should have been top of my list but as my flying was considered very good and also my navigation was also tops I was passed as a capable pilot. I can assure that from that moment on I learnt all I could about each aircraft that I flew and also made sure that I flew in every position in the aircraft just to experience what my crew would have to put up with.

So of course we just had to wait for our graduation parade, our new rank and of course our posting. Would any of us go straight overseas or would we be sent to do some thing else.

Now what were the good points for the Cessna Crane, both the Mk. 1 and the FJ model? Both models used Jacobs L4MB radial motors the PJ's had constant speed propellers whereas the 1 used mostly a wooden fixed pitch propeller although some did utilize a constant speed prop. The aircraft also had a very unique undercarriage. First it was very sturdy and second its retraction system was quite unique. As I explained earlier the wheels were raised via a screw jack which was electric in operation. This in turn was controlled by a micro-switch, which in turn was only activated when the oleo legs were fully extended, this being started by a cable that was loose when on the ground but as the legs extended so the cable tightened and activated the switch which in turn started the motor that turned the screw that raised the jacks.

This system led to some very hairy take offs amongst the more adventurous of us. One of the tricks was to open the throttles push the stick [wheel] hard forward and flick the undercarriage switch with your little finger and hold the aircraft hard on the runway.

Then when the take off speed had been attained, pull back on the stick and of course as the oleo legs extended the wheels retracted. This did have its drawbacks as if you started to bounce while still running down the runway, each time the legs extended the under carriage would start to retract and then as the wheels touched again the undercarriage would stop retracting. Now you can see what could happen for as each time the undercarriage started up the aircraft would be sitting slightly lower and lower. Us smart arses didn't have any trouble, but it was exciting

Now the other method was to go down the runway, then just before getting airborne, flick the undercarriage switch and as the aircraft left the ground the undercarriage would start to raise. Both methods were spectacular but for some reason the powers-that-be frowned upon them and insisted that we follow the correct method. But no-one told us not to do it the following day. Just who did they think we were, numskulls?

The aircraft as such did require your utmost concentration as it would kick you if you let it but as a training aircraft I would say personally that it was a very good instructional aircraft.

And now the big day arrives and it's time for our wings parade, and in our class all got through. Amongst us we had one Kiwi who had been incarcerated for some serious breach of flying regulations and so when his time came up he was assigned to our course as they, the Air Force, had spent too much money on him and also they were desperate for pilots and he had the makings of a good pilot so he was given another chance and here he was qualified.

So all bods formed up on the parade ground in their best No. 1's with our white flashes still prominently displayed, but of course the CO must make a speech first. In his speech he explained just why he had been so hard on us initially. It seems that the course ahead of us consisted of, just wouldn't you know it, Aussies - and they had led the station a real merry dance so he was not going to let another bunch from downunder pull the same stunts [as if we would]. And that GENTLEMEN [notice he now called us gentlemen] was the reasons for all the hassles.

So now we are called up one by one and presented with our wings and postings, and those that were handed an envelope knew that they were now officers while the rest were sergeants. This parade was held on 14/8/42 and I have now done what I set out to do and that was to become a pilot in the best Air Force in the world.

But [there's that word again] if you think that the training was now complete well just hold onto your hats cause you ain't seen nothing yet.

 

 

Next Chapter

Table of Contents

Home

______________________________________________________________