Tales

Included inthe cargo was a cat, which was in a cage. When the pilot was loading the aircraft he stored the cat in the nose of the aircraft. Flying time wasn’t long so the pilot didn’t think the cat would have too much trouble flying ‘up front’. Unfortunately when they landed and began unloading the aircraft they found that the cat wouldn’t wake up or move. When they opened the cage to investigate they noticed that the cat was frozen stiff! The pilot immediately realized that the nose of the aircraft wasn’t pressurized and as they had been flying at 18,000 feet they quickly understood why the cat was frozen stiff. (J Edmondson, Pingelly) Where am I? This story was told to me by a much decorated ex-RAF Bomber Command pilot during a discussion on his early career in aviation.

In the early days of WW2 a lot of training practices, later tightened up, were conducted in a rather hairy “old boy” manner. As a young Pilot Officer he was doing his conversion on to the Wellington and toward the end of his course and after an hour or so of exercise and revision was directed by his Instructor to return to dispersal.

On arrival the instructor unstrapped and said “I’m going for a cuppa, why not do a solo circuit and I shall watch from here?” The pupil moved to the Duty Runway and with a mixture of euphoria, nervousness and pride took the green light and pushed the throttles forward.

However at about 600ft he ran slap bang into a previously unnoticed cloud bank full of dark cloud and turbulence, after a period of trying to settle his nerves and a rather agile aircraft he noticed something unpleasant. In the excitement of the first solo neither the compass or the DG (Directional Gyro) had been set and doubt existed as to his true heading. After some mental gymnastics, two Rate 1 turns and a tentative descent he saw the runway in exactly the correct position.

Carrying out all the drills he landed and turned onto the taxiway and then turned cold. Everything was different!

After speaking briefly to a passing airman and making a mental note of the compass bearing he took out his map and did a quick plot. Gingerly returning to the runway he took off and flying visual for about ten minutes found the correct airfield and made his approach and landing.

At dispersal his instructor came out and wiping crumbs off his moustache said “Good show old boy, your takeoff ing acceptable, but old fellow, try not to was good and your approach and land- spend so much time on the downwind leg. ” (Eric Simmons, Nightcliff) Eastbound C-130A Hercules A long time ago a certain Herc driver was tasked with dropping about two dozen SAS paras into a space constrained drop zone at night. Not an unusually difficult task but one that can go wrong if the winds aren’t what they are forecast, which of course is ops normal.

Anyway, our C-130A is operating out of Pearce and the drop zone is not that far from the base while the flight itself has the option of flight planning back to Pearce for a comfortable overnight and a leisurely departure next day or heading eastward to Richmond where the strong winter jetstreams will, despite the distance, have them home in time for breakfast.

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The Hercules lines up carefully and out go the SAS into the night sky. Unfortunately the aircraft is considerably left of track and the Army elite land not on open fields as planned but amongst woodland studded with rocky outcrops – great! With several injured commandos and some very aggrieved troopers waiting to have a ‘talk’ with the Hercules skipper an instant decision is made by the Here crew to wind up the Allisons and head east at best speed, Like they say, discretion is the better part of valour! Yawn Patrol Just thought you might find this piece from Inside Tourism amusing (or perhaps not): A Delta Airlines jet was forced to land without guidance in the dark after the lone air traffic controller at Florida’s Palm Beach Airport fell asleep. Police believe the controller dozed off while cleaning a pistol. Pilots of aircraft circling above the airport waiting to land alerted aviation authorities.

Police surrounded the locked control tower with squad cars, sounded sirens and aimed spotlights at the windows, but to no avail. When they finally burst in, police found the controller waking up, shoeless and yawning. A pistol in the process of being cleaned, along with a full clip of bullets, was found next to him.

Firearms are illegal in Florida control towers and sleeping on duty is frowned upon (!!), but police found no evidence of drink or drugs so the controller was released and is still directing traffic at Palm Beach Airport while an investigation is carried out. Far out! Uh Oh! In the early days of WW2 I was an airman cadet pilot under instruction at No 4 EFTS at RAF Brough in sunny Yorkshire.

I was the first member of our course to be sent solo and my instructor, Ser- to the end of the large grass airfield, got geant Pilot Hall, taxied the Tiger Moth outwith his cumbersome and very heavy parachute, patted me on the shoulder, told me everything he had told me to remember, wished me luck and most importantly to pick him up when I had landed for returning to the hangar.

Everything went well. I landed. I was truly elated and on cloud nine, returned to the hangar area, switched off and jubilantly went to lunch.

I had totally forgotten about my instructor, Flight Sergeant Hall who was forced to trudge back carrying his parachute all the way from the airfield perimeter. He was not amused! (John Forward, Port Macquarie)