Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
I hope that I may be allowed to draw attention to news of the well deserved award of the HCAP Master's Trophy for the Australian Region for 2016 to John Eacott at http://www.pprune.org/rotorheads/586...-honoured.html No arguments with that one.....
A big BZ to John and best wishes to him and a very proud dad - hope all is well with him.
Jack
A big BZ to John and best wishes to him and a very proud dad - hope all is well with him.
Jack
Dear all, I started reading this thread back in 2008 but soon drifted away. I came back to it and restarted from #0001 in Jan 2016 and have at last caught up to the current page. What can I say, just a huge thank you to all contributors.
Bucc
(For Danny: age is 60, RAF ground crew, to Sgt, avionics, 11 years, mostly Buccaneer then VC10 Tankers)
Bucc
(For Danny: age is 60, RAF ground crew, to Sgt, avionics, 11 years, mostly Buccaneer then VC10 Tankers)
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For Danny 42C and those of a similar ilk........
Danny, I hope that this will amuse you.......
For pilots who have hung up their flying helmets......pdf
Credit goes to my old BFT QFI for sending it to me and I claim no credit for the art work.
MB
For pilots who have hung up their flying helmets......pdf
Credit goes to my old BFT QFI for sending it to me and I claim no credit for the art work.
MB
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Bucc Man (#9663),
Worked right through from #1 to today ! As my old Dad used to say to me: "You have the heart of Nelson, Son !"
Knocking off "War and Peace" in an afternoon should be child's play. Only 60 (nobbut a lad, then - generation behind me, but welcome in our cybercrewroom nevertheless).
You have tales to tell, this is the place.
Cheers, Danny.
Worked right through from #1 to today ! As my old Dad used to say to me: "You have the heart of Nelson, Son !"
Knocking off "War and Peace" in an afternoon should be child's play. Only 60 (nobbut a lad, then - generation behind me, but welcome in our cybercrewroom nevertheless).
You have tales to tell, this is the place.
Cheers, Danny.
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Madbob ... brilliant. Thanks for posting!!
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Danny
I'm delighted that you like it. I must say it tickles me. As for your suggestion I will post it again on the captions thread in the morning. (Kind moderators permitting....)
For starters......
"Stannah say it's stressed to 6.5 g, are you sure you're still A1,G1, Z1?"
MB
I'm delighted that you like it. I must say it tickles me. As for your suggestion I will post it again on the captions thread in the morning. (Kind moderators permitting....)
For starters......
"Stannah say it's stressed to 6.5 g, are you sure you're still A1,G1, Z1?"
MB
Last edited by Madbob; 5th Nov 2016 at 21:24. Reason: Spelling
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Sixty years ago today the British invasion of Egypt had started, Eisenhower was being reelected, Soviet tanks were crushing the Hungarian uprising and I was at R.A.F Hornchurch for preselection.
Danny has competition – a Fairey Battle survivor
Just found references to this gentleman S/Ldr Rupert Parkhouse on FBook recently celebrating his 70th Wedding Anniversary to his wife Rosemary. Shot down in 1940 flying a Fairey Battle over France (5 years a PoW) then a post war Sunderland pilot involved in the Berlin Airlift
Oh to get his memories posted on this thread
Oh to get his memories posted on this thread
There is very little material from those dark Blitzkrieg days probably because so few survived the slaughter of the Fairey Battles. Mr. Parkhouse, then 19 years old, survived being shot down by the Me109s of JG26 on his second operation and spent five years in captivity. I am transcribing his enthralling story and hope to start posting towards the end of this month.
Geriaviator, that is wonderful news, and thank you for making Sqn Ldr Parkhouse's story available to us! This is now becoming the default method by which the thread OP is adhered to, with the honourable exception of Danny of course, who is an eternal honourable exception!
Off I went to stores to pick up my jungle kit. A jungle hat, two olive green aertex shirts and two pairs of olive trousers with extra pockets on the thighs. The famous jungle boots; ankle length lace-up fabric efforts with rubber soles. A 38 pattern belt and a fabric holster completed the ensemble. A short walk to the armoury and collect my weapon; an old .38 Smith & Wesson and two boxes, a total of twelve rounds, of ammunition dated 1947. They asked me if I had fired a .38 before and my positive answer was my FEAF Arms Qualification.
Apart from spares socks and shreddies and something to change into in the evenings I could go in what I stood up in. There was nowhere to put anything else and with the restricted payload of the Whirlwind we couldn’t take the weight. One of the sergeant pilots was to fly me out there and gave me a brief on get to get there. “Fly 100 degrees for twenty-five minutes and we should be over Tenom. Then fly 129 degrees for twenty-five minutes and we should be over Sepulot.” I already had a used map so the tracks from anywhere to anywhere were already drawn on it. The first part was over the sea so we collected two lifejackets for the trip. The wasn’t a dinghy on board but as we would only be couple of miles from the coast it wasn’t considered necessary. There not being al lot else to say we got in an fired it up.
Once it was burning and turning the most important thing was to make sure the HF radio worked. Ten minutes after take off it would be the only form of communication available, there being no VHF or UHF stations around. The Army communications. net was of no use as we did not have the right equipment. Once we were airborne we were on our own.
The track took us just south of the cost and then we came to North Borneo proper. There was sparse, in any, habitation and the land appeared to be rough grass with patches of greenery; in fact it looked just like the New Forest. Tenom, at that time just one street with a few shacks spread around came into view and we turned over the top and set up 129 degrees. After about five miles the clearances for the palm oil plantations dried up. We were now flying over a continuous cauliflower and broccoli patch except these were 150-180 foot high,
There was no end to it. It was just a sea of green with an undulating surface which represented hills. Looking in the valleys one could sometimes see a flash of reflected sunlight from the river hidden below. On the horizon were some bigger lumps which could be described as topographical features but as there was nothing to compare them to they were useless for estimating height or distance. Occasionally there would be a scar in the scenery and one would look down at a tangle of trees where one had succumbed, fallen, and then careered down the hill taking a clutch of smaller trees with it. There was nowhere to go if the engine stopped. Should one be very lucky a very rare clear patch above a river but in extremis it was a case of flopping into the trees. The theory being that the energy being absorbed by the rotor blades being broken up would slow the descent so that it was survivable.
In the last few minutes the scenery ahead started to change. The glimmer of wrinkly tin (lightweight corrugated steel sheets) and then the airstrip came into view. No radio, no joining procedure, an airman dressed in shorts and flip flops coming out to meet us was the first indication that they knew we had arrived. There was a group of log landing pads at one end and after landing and shut down I had a look around.
The airstrip had some vintage as it was the only bit of flat land in the immediate area. The Sepulot river was the main North/South artery in Sabah and Sepulot was at the joining of a major tributary. It had been in place before the 2nd W/W and the Japanese had used it as a base. There was a small hut by the airstrip used by the Twin Pins of Borneo Airways and 209 Sqn. On their side were rows of Avgas drums and on our side there were rows of Avtur drums. Up the hill was our ops and accommodation.
The black building was put up by the Japanese and was used as the wireless room. BASO, a RAF Navigator who had landed a years posting there looked after the tasking and was also the camp commandant. The large building at the top was the aircrew accommodation with the ground crew to the left. There was a platoon of Ghurkha signals who looked after the radios and did all the donkey work around the camp. The poles at the right of the large building held up the water drums that supplied the showers. The weather was simple. Light fog in the early morning, clear skies until 13.00 hrs. Heavy showers until 14.30 hrs and then a balmy afternoon and evening. Once a week, normally Tuesdays, there would be a thunderstorm at midnight.
And so I had arrived in a place that I was going to get used to.
[QUOTE][/The theory being that the energy being absorbed by the rotor blades being broken up would slow the descent so that it was survivable.QUOTE]
This theory was proved to be correct a couple of years later.
Apart from spares socks and shreddies and something to change into in the evenings I could go in what I stood up in. There was nowhere to put anything else and with the restricted payload of the Whirlwind we couldn’t take the weight. One of the sergeant pilots was to fly me out there and gave me a brief on get to get there. “Fly 100 degrees for twenty-five minutes and we should be over Tenom. Then fly 129 degrees for twenty-five minutes and we should be over Sepulot.” I already had a used map so the tracks from anywhere to anywhere were already drawn on it. The first part was over the sea so we collected two lifejackets for the trip. The wasn’t a dinghy on board but as we would only be couple of miles from the coast it wasn’t considered necessary. There not being al lot else to say we got in an fired it up.
Once it was burning and turning the most important thing was to make sure the HF radio worked. Ten minutes after take off it would be the only form of communication available, there being no VHF or UHF stations around. The Army communications. net was of no use as we did not have the right equipment. Once we were airborne we were on our own.
The track took us just south of the cost and then we came to North Borneo proper. There was sparse, in any, habitation and the land appeared to be rough grass with patches of greenery; in fact it looked just like the New Forest. Tenom, at that time just one street with a few shacks spread around came into view and we turned over the top and set up 129 degrees. After about five miles the clearances for the palm oil plantations dried up. We were now flying over a continuous cauliflower and broccoli patch except these were 150-180 foot high,
There was no end to it. It was just a sea of green with an undulating surface which represented hills. Looking in the valleys one could sometimes see a flash of reflected sunlight from the river hidden below. On the horizon were some bigger lumps which could be described as topographical features but as there was nothing to compare them to they were useless for estimating height or distance. Occasionally there would be a scar in the scenery and one would look down at a tangle of trees where one had succumbed, fallen, and then careered down the hill taking a clutch of smaller trees with it. There was nowhere to go if the engine stopped. Should one be very lucky a very rare clear patch above a river but in extremis it was a case of flopping into the trees. The theory being that the energy being absorbed by the rotor blades being broken up would slow the descent so that it was survivable.
In the last few minutes the scenery ahead started to change. The glimmer of wrinkly tin (lightweight corrugated steel sheets) and then the airstrip came into view. No radio, no joining procedure, an airman dressed in shorts and flip flops coming out to meet us was the first indication that they knew we had arrived. There was a group of log landing pads at one end and after landing and shut down I had a look around.
The airstrip had some vintage as it was the only bit of flat land in the immediate area. The Sepulot river was the main North/South artery in Sabah and Sepulot was at the joining of a major tributary. It had been in place before the 2nd W/W and the Japanese had used it as a base. There was a small hut by the airstrip used by the Twin Pins of Borneo Airways and 209 Sqn. On their side were rows of Avgas drums and on our side there were rows of Avtur drums. Up the hill was our ops and accommodation.
The black building was put up by the Japanese and was used as the wireless room. BASO, a RAF Navigator who had landed a years posting there looked after the tasking and was also the camp commandant. The large building at the top was the aircrew accommodation with the ground crew to the left. There was a platoon of Ghurkha signals who looked after the radios and did all the donkey work around the camp. The poles at the right of the large building held up the water drums that supplied the showers. The weather was simple. Light fog in the early morning, clear skies until 13.00 hrs. Heavy showers until 14.30 hrs and then a balmy afternoon and evening. Once a week, normally Tuesdays, there would be a thunderstorm at midnight.
And so I had arrived in a place that I was going to get used to.
[QUOTE][/The theory being that the energy being absorbed by the rotor blades being broken up would slow the descent so that it was survivable.QUOTE]
This theory was proved to be correct a couple of years later.
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oh, that does look lovely 
I used to complain about the noise of the centralised air conditioning ducts in the 'New Wing" at Tengah
I used to complain about the noise of the centralised air conditioning ducts in the 'New Wing" at Tengah
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FED (#9672),
Same seemed to hold true for a Vengeance whittled-down to a bare fuselage after an unscheduled half-mile bumpy ride through the Arakan jungle.
...Now that is a "Des. Res." and no mistake ! The theory being that the energy being absorbed by the rotor blades being broken up would slow the descent so that it was survivable.
This theory was proved to be correct a couple of years later...
This theory was proved to be correct a couple of years later...
certainly a future Gp Capt GD/P married to a fellow flt cdr on IOT in the earlyish 80s and I suspect she went higher.
I taught an aussie Sqn Ldr Eng who went on to 2* (and Aussie of the year, OA etc). Late in life she married another 2*. How about that for a cumulative pension?
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Octane (#9676),
Most of fuel in wings as you surmise. But 20 galls in "trap" (collection) tank under my feet, quite enough to barbecue self and gunner.
Sadly, no photos taken AFAIK (piles of scrap not uncommon in those days).
Whole story (in sections) told on Open Post here long ago, but have collated them into a separate Folder (with comment from hindsight).
Not wishing to bore the pants off the good folk here, will not put it on Open Post, and fed-up with PM Inbox at the buffers, if you would like to read whole sad story, PM me with your email and I will send it to you that way.
Danny.
Most of fuel in wings as you surmise. But 20 galls in "trap" (collection) tank under my feet, quite enough to barbecue self and gunner.
Sadly, no photos taken AFAIK (piles of scrap not uncommon in those days).
Whole story (in sections) told on Open Post here long ago, but have collated them into a separate Folder (with comment from hindsight).
Not wishing to bore the pants off the good folk here, will not put it on Open Post, and fed-up with PM Inbox at the buffers, if you would like to read whole sad story, PM me with your email and I will send it to you that way.
Danny.
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Chugalug (#9671),
Amen to that !
ETERNAL ? (Say it ain't so !). Please don't tempt Providence like that - I'm too young to die !
Danny.
... Geriaviator, that is wonderful news, and thank you for making Sqn Ldr Parkhouse's story available to us!..
...Danny of course, who is an eternal honourable exception!...
Danny.