GA vs Military Flying Training

Our flying world was governed by these SOPs, amplified by special flying instructions (SFIs), special technical instructions (STIs) and various other orders and directives.

SFIS provided immediate advice of any newly discovered aircraft handling problem, or an amendment to SOPs. In the case of the Navy, SFIs were entered in the front of the squadron’s flying order book and all had to sign as having read and understood them as soon as they were received.

Digressing slightly, I had an early and painful experience of an SFI that informed all pilots that it was possible to trap your little finger in the seat raising and lowering mechanism in the MK 1 Firefly. Somehow I had either missed the instruction or it hadn’t sunk in, and one day I ended up with a trapped finger and straining leg muscles as I endeavoured to keep the weight off it, too embarrassed to tell the RN Wren (lady sailor) groundcrew person that I had a trapped digit! I paid more attention to SFIs from there on in.

STIs obviously affected the maintenance aspects of aircraft operations and were handled by the maintenance personnel, but some were of direct consequence in the handling of the aircraft itself. In summary, there existed clear and precise instructions setting out how you were to handle and operate your aircraft, and there was an established system for ensuring that you received and understood those instructions.

In addition, you were provided with detailed and comprehensive courses of instruction at each stage of your career, be it converting to a new type, or specialist training such as in weaponry. It still required a great deal of hard study, but you were guided along the path.

In summary, you couldn’t really go wrong; you knew that you were being given the best training possible and if you paid heed, you had all that you needed to know.

I should make it clear at this point that I’m talking about the young squadron pilot; obviously as one climbs the ladder of promotion and experience, the emphasis swings from receiv- ing to giving advice and direction.

Finally, a major aspect of military flying is the briefing that precedes every single operation, even self briefing where appropriate.

“It has been said in the past that the military briefing sometimes seems to be more important than the flight itself and I must admit that on some live firing exercises this has appeared to be the case. But at least you knew what was going on!! Now, when I started flying with the aero club I expected to be in a similar cocooned environment: how wrong I was! No SOPs of any consequence, no SFIs, the maintenance release for the aircraft was kept in that particular aircraft (a mortal sin in the military, maintenance documents were never to be carried in the aircraft for which they were made out), and there was no immediate way of knowing the maintenance history of the aircraft.

I was used to reading back through the aircraft’s servicing document (form A700) before flight to note previous unserviceabilities and to see whether there was a pattern. I particularly looked for radio and electrical unserviceabilities because it was my experience that these were the ones that would repeat themselves and it was sensible to be ready for them to occur again.

In addition, one noted defects which had been approved to be deferred by the squadron engineer officer and also operational items such as the guns or other operational equipment that might have been removed, but which didn’t affect the handling of the aircraft.

I admit that with the passage of time, and the simple nature of the club aircraft, I came to realise that there was no need for this detailed examination of maintenance documents and I came to accept it.

Now it could have been the fact that I was a reasonably experienced ex military pilot but I received very little briefing before my first flight with the club, we simply walked out to the aircraft chatting on the way, started it, took off and flew round, returning for a few circuits.

After a couple of flights it was thought that I was safe for a solo, but then it was remembered that a session of simple instrument flying in the clear was a requirement before solo. The young female instructor detailed to take me (that was a bit of a shock, believe me) scarcely uttered a single word of briefing before, during or after. Now she could have been as scared ofme as I was of her, but it would have been nice to have known what we were supposed to be doing.

Another aspect that I found almost totally different was air traffic control and the associated radio procedures, particularly as I was flying out of a primary control zone airport; it is not easy for an old dog to learn new tricks.

I also had to relearn the techniques of handling fixed pitch piston engines which were prone to icing problems. I had left them behind some thirty years previously and my knowledge was somewhat limited. I had become well and truly used to jet engines with precise and positive control and no propeller torque to worry about.

Some of the club aircraft were still fitted with hand held microphones which ever there was a device waiting to cause an accident this was it! Finally, the compass appeared to be the same as the military “E” type compass, the “E” standing for emergency, a bit of a come down after precise, deadbeat compasses, accurate to a fraction of a degree.

Well, I managed to adjust to the world of the private pilot (all except paying for my flying, the King had originally done that for me, followed by the Queen!) but it set me to wondering about the differences between the two. In other words how did the support and guidance given to the young military pilot compare with that provided for his civilian counterpart? I reached the conclusion that there were two essential differences, one was that in the military the information came to you (spoon fed, if you like) but in the world of the private pilot you had to go out and find the information for yourself. The problem was that if you didn’t know the information existed, or where to look for it, or were too embarrassed to ask, you could be very much in the dark.

The other factor was discipline. In the non structured civilian world there appeared to be no real organisation to ensure that all knew what was going on. In other words, there was a crying need for someone to take charge.

Now I know that another fundamental difference between military and private flying is the mighty dollar! Also there is the question of egos. In the military if your ego doesn’t match your ability and experience, it will be very quickly curbed by your peers and your seniors.

In the civilian world, however, if your ego is bigger than it should be (and what pilot doesn’t have an ego), and you think you are not being treated with due deference by the organisation you fly with, you can always take your custom elsewhere. This can be a big disincentive to that organisation to take you in hand; I am well aware that one unhappy customer can negate ten happy ones, but notwithstanding this, I believe that flying is a serious business which if not approached in a disciplined manner can end up with you fatally dead.

My conclusions from all this, and being aware of my limited experience of the aero club world and other GA flying training organisations, is that I believe that there is a need for such organisations to adopt a firmer line with their customers, and somehow get the message across that it is in the latter’s best interests that they accept and adopt a more disciplined ap- proach to their flying.

You might be wondering at this stage what triggered me to start thinking about the differences between the military and civil approach to flying training. Well the answer is the spate of weather related “press-on-itis” accidents that have occurred over the last year or so.

As I see it there are four reasons for this apparent increase; the unusual weather we have been experiencing, lack of appreciation of what the conditions were actually like, inexperience (training?), overconfidence, and perhaps most importantly of all, lack of operational discipline.

By operational discipline I mean being able to set aside the urge to get to the destination, and to make a rational independent decision that it is a no go situation and abort/divert or return. This doesn’t necessarily come naturally and I believe has to be very much a part of everybody’s flying training instruction.

Having nearly written myself off early in my flying career in a classic press on situation, I am well aware of the factors involved.

It is a truism that modern aircraft are very easy to fly, after all if they weren’t, the manufacturers wouldn’t be able to sell them! So the physical handling of the aircraft is not the problem, its the approach to the way it is operated that is of greater importance. This means the acceptance of the need to operate in accordance with the handling notes for the particular aircraft, and compliance with parent organisation, CAA and FAC regulations, and instructions.

Inour current society, the philosophy of “do comfortable for you” still prevails, which is not conducive to ready acceptance of being told what to do, and therein, I believe, lies the problem.

This was very much borne out at a recent helicopter conference where a major operator stated that it was not an applicant’s ability to handle the machine, but rather his or her approach to its operation that had now assumed greater importance. They were more concerned that the people they took on were in the “right” psychological mould rather than hot stick handlers. The problem was now of such magnitude that they had adopted the philosophy of cadetships to ensure that the right training was given from the word go.

The fact that the problem has been publicly aired would tend to support my view that there is a need to tighten up the personal approach aspect of flying training I’ll leave it at that. I expect the Editor will get a few letters expressing disagreement with my views, but I hope I may have prompted a few instructors to consider whether they are ensuring that their students are imbued with the right approach to flying.