Tales

On this particular occasion, the fighting was centred in and around a remote African village consisting of the usual scattering of thatched huts and cattle pens. The Fire Force were flown into the area aboard several Aerospatiale Allouette III helicopters of the Rhodesian Air Force. As the lead helicopter executed a tight descending turn to deposit its cargo of eager troops, one of the enemy raised his AK 47 assault rifle and sent off a long burst directed at the machine. The unsuspecting pilot was hit in the forearm and reacted, sending a lurch through the steeply cantered and rapidly descending helicopter before control.

The Allouette III did not support such luxuries as seat belts for it’s troops and more often than not, those nearest the either side of the aircraft would sit with weapons across their laps and with one foot on the outside step, ready to alight.

As the aircraft had lurched so violently and unexpectedly, the trooper on the starboard side lost his footing and fell out, weapon in hand at an altitude of around 20 metres and crashed through the roof of a hut, breaking his arm as he hit the earthen floor.

During the course of the subsequent battle, several of the enemy surrendered themselves and on interrogation over the next few days, one of them was reported as saying, “Listen, when you start jumping out of aircraft in your eagerness to get us, there is no way that we are going to stand and fight you. . . You’re guys are all mad!. N Surgeon (Roleystone)

No Pain, No Gain

After a dozen years I decided to go back to China, ironically as it turned out, to write about some of the country’s aircraft maintenance and overhaul facilities.

I normally put great faith in flying being the safest form of transport and all, except for incursions to regions such as China, central Africa and possibly South America. Standards of aircraft serviceability have certainly improved since the withdrawal of the ubiquitous Russian equipment which formed the backbone of airline operations in the previously lesser

oped countries of Asia. Or so I thought.

This adventure started upon check-in for an Air China flight from Guangzhou to Beijing, a service to be operated by a Boeing 747-200C departing at 1830 and arriving at 2155. I never expected the whole event to be trouble free: the reputation of operations within China had been widely broadcast in the media much to the anguish of family members who waited at home hoping not to see a story about CA1302 on the evening news, such had been the regularity of aircraft ‘incidents’ in China.

Anyway, back at Guangzhou domes- tic terminal, sandwiched in the midst of a thousand jostling members of the People’s Republic, I slid my way across the phlegm-soaked floor to the check-in counter, one hour after locating the end of the queue, then paid the departure tax and retired to the thick fog of the smoke laden waiting hall. Not too bad an ordeal thus far, and with only an hour to push back, I relaxed observing the failing light over Do you have a tale to tell? If so, then why don’t you share it with the world by sending it in to ‘Tales’, Australian Aviation, PO Box 3105, Weston Creek ACT 2611 or fax it on (06) 288 2021.

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the with an intriguing ar ray of western and a smaller number of Soviet aircraft in hitherto unseen guises.

As 1830 approached no gate had been allocated for CA1302, and the flight information display was littered with the delays and cancellations for which China has become legendary. I pondered my chances of getting airborne on time.

At 1835 a garbled announcement wafted through the stale air. At the same time the delay of CA1302 was noted on the monitor – domestic services after dark, I conjured visions of the inside of the adjacent airport hotel. “Not too bad” said a fellow Chinese traveller; he had endured it all before.

At 2045 another announcement came, this time advising passengers that meal vouchers were available. Air China’s recent membership of IATA did have some benefits.

Upon hearing this, my Chinese friend said with some trepidation, “This not good”. “In Chengdu once they gave me a boiled egg to last a 24 hour delay. No water, no bed, just a boiled egg”. I didn’t want to hear this. “At least now they give you noodles” he mused.

I declined the generous offer of noodles in polystyrene, and sat staring optimistically at the monitor.

2130 came, and went. At 2135 an announcement in Chinese sent a wave of hysteria through the terminal and much commotion amongst the crowd. ‘A rebellion over a further delay’ I thought. Surprised, my friend grabbed my arm saying “Come! Come! Plane is going!” A sense of relief came over me as the human wave funnelled through the door leading to an early 1960’s model bus waiting on the icy tarmac. A multitude of Air China aircraft sat lifeless around the airport, their shapes variously silhouetted in the misty winter air. No distinctive curve of a 747 anywhere.

As the bus wove its way through aircraft a recognisable shape loomed in forth and in an instant we pass the two port Kuznetsovs of an Il- 86. The brakes ground the bus to a halt as the first passengers skated across the tarmac each vying for a position at the foot of the belly stairs to the beast. A little more nervously my fellow sufferer turned to me and said once more “This not good”. I concurred as I gazed up- ward, staring at the Aeroflot titles. stained by oil slicks across the worn. white and blue fuselage.

Climbing the central staircase to the cabin, immediately the recognisable musty odour of Russian aircraft greeted me. So too did the burly Aeroflot flight attendant who wore her shoulder pads as if they were elbow guards.

“You sit here!” she commanded, pointed to my seat which was appropriately numbered 13A. Good luck for some. . .

The seat of the Ilyushin even when placed in the fully upright position was in full recline, and I strained to look out the ham and cream painted window to observe the commotion outside which sent aircraft staff scurrying. From the flightdeck leapt the engineer who looked as though the vodka had gotten the better of his nerves. He looked somewhat menacing with the mallet in his hand as he walked down the aisle and out of the aircraft.

Some 30 minutes passed as various maintenance crew ran back and forth with tools clutched in hands. The cabin light dimmed romantically to allow passengers fortunate enough to have a window seat a better view of what had become quite a gathering of officials, vehicles and maintenance personnel outside.

Some time later a sound reminiscent of early DC-8s air starting their engines pierced the cabin as the first of the four Kuznetsovs was fired up. Another two started, then failed, the lights flickered as the cabin turned into a disco, and there was silence. At least this provided more opportunity for the cabin crew to drink their coffee, tend to their makeup and play cards.

As the lights played, I counted a total of twelve engine starts, punctuated from time to time by forward and reverse thrust runups that caused the aircraft to lurch and vibrate as if hitting the side of.

Eventually, after what amounted to only a modest delay by Chinese standards, the I1-86 positioned for takeoff with most souls bored of the ordeal, now grunting and snoring and spitting. The aircraft climbed alarmingly slowly over the neighbouring residences as if to prove to the nearby population that CA1302 did eventually takeoff, and without a safety demonstration, without apology, but with the fearsome Aeroflot staff commanding passengers like sergeant majors at a military school.

My view of the suburbs of Guangzhou lasted for quite some time as the four holer slowly climbed under the full moon. Abruptly my sightseeing was interrupted by a meal tray landing in front of me. “You eat!” was the instruction; so I did with great gusto and swilled the cocktail of beef and rice to give the impression of great enjoyment.

So did I get my $269 worth? I’ll let you decide when you travel within China.

Julian Green (Kogarah)

Runaway Wirra!

It was an extra cold winter at Uranquinty in 1953 and I was a new rigger doing a 400 hour inspection on a Wirraway.

Part of that job was to check the brake linings. They were almost down to the rivets and required replacement so I checked the maintenance hand- book parts to be returned to the manufacturer for relining! As the last Wirraway was delivered to the RAAF around 1946 I asked the Flt Sgt what I should do. “Why! Its a do it yourself job now”. I replaced the linings and fitted them to the aircraft, and set the clearances to requirement.

Anyone who has worked on the Wirraway would know how difficult and time consuming this particular job can be. It was a regular thing to see a Wirraway being towed on its A frame to burn in new shoes. My aircraft was no exception.

A taxi test was then called for. A flying instructor who will remain nameless was organised. He climbed into the drivers seat with my Fit Sgt going along for the ride. Off they went out into the paddock. Put on the power to almost takeoff speed and applied the brakes to bring the aircraft to a standstill. Turn around and off again.

This went on for some time with the pilot finally returning to the flightline outside the maintenance hangar.

I climbed onto the port wing to ask the Flt Sgt how things were going. Before I had time to get an answer to the question, off went the aircraft once again, this time with three people on board, the pilot, the Flt Sgt and me on the port side walkway.

Holding on like grim death, knuckles white holding onto the rear cockpit rails, assisted by the Fit Sgt holding me by the collar of my overalls. Then came the exciting part, the pilot continued taxi testing as before, throttle wide open almost to flying speed and braking to a halt, then around once more to repeat the procedure. I have no idea how many near flights I had but was glad when the pilot decided that he should return to the hangar line, switched off and turned round to see me beside the rear seat passenger.

The pilot said to me “You got up there quick” all I could reply was “That I had not left yet”. The look on the pilots face will remain with me always.

All thought it was a great joke, with two exceptions, a 19 year old rigger and the rear seat passenger.

Ex (almost late) A25514 A C Spence.

Definitely Non Visual Flight Rules

At a little outback aerodrome in Queensland a Chieftain was being readied for takeoff.

Before the main flow of passengers boarded, an elderly blind man was wheelchaired and helped onto the aircraft followed by his faithful labrador, which sat right at the front of the aircraft. The pilot was going though his preflight checks and noticed the dog becoming agitated.

After continually banging and shift- ing, the pilot realised that nature was calling and the dog wanted to find somewhere to relieve itself. The pilot donned his pilot’s jacket with Captains badges, put on his dark Ray Ban sunglasses to combat the midday sun and carefully led the dog off the plane. Just at this moment the passengers started to walk out to board the plane. The dropped jaws and dumfounded looks by the passengers was a sight to behold. P Beswick (South Coogee)

Full Stop

We had flown in to San Francisco and were taking the shuttle down to Los Angeles.

The early model 737 was very sparsely equipped, only having open overhead lockers, and no babies cribs as found on the Qantas 747 we were to connect with. The lack of a suitable place for our son consequently put him on our laps for the flight.

When we landed at LAX the pilot applied full braking and reverse thrust. The effect was dramatic to say the least, whilst we tried to keep our nine month old from being thrown into the forward bulkhead, the drink trolley broke loose from somewhere up the back and literally flew to the front of the aircraft. It hit the middle of the cockpit door perfectly. Luckily for the pilots this was locked. Bottles, cans, cups and packets of nuts were distributed over the entire front end of the cabin.

I asked one of the cabin staff, who was tidying up the mess, if this was normal procedure on landing in LA. She replied, “If you enjoyed that sir, you should come with us to San Diego, we get a bonus if we can take the first taxiway off the runway. “