A.   Halton - The First Year

For Mick, one thing changed rather radically upon his very early days in the RAF as an Aircraft Apprentice at RAF Halton . . . the No.1 School of Technical Training.   The relative absence of aircraft . . . actually flying !   Time mostly alternated between Schools, Workshops, the Square, and the Assault Course.

As one marched . . . past the long row of buildings dating back to the founding of the school in 1921, known as the "Old Workshops" where the 'gash' trades of Armourer, Electrician and Instrument Basher held sway . . . the road snaked down a short steep hill to a huge hangar-like building known - logically - as the "New Workshops" !   It was fronted by a narrow concrete apron on which were parked a few rather interesting aircraft.   How they got there he never discovered, as there was no connection with any airfield, and only the narrow downhill road. One can only assume that they were transported there in pieces on 'Queen Mary's' and later re-assembled.   The first of these was one of the twenty original Avro Manchester Mk.I's, with the central tailfin and short-span horizontal tail surface.

New Workshops Apron ~ Avro Manchester in foreground
( This photo in 1943 has the workshops "removed" by the Censor)

Designed originally to use the interesting X-concept Roll-Royce Vulture 1700Hp engines, based on two R.R. Peregrine V-12's back-to-back, which suffered from too many teething problems in early service. Later, following some fresh scribbling by Avro's Jim Floyd and Roy Chadwick, it emerged with an extended wingspan and four R.R. Merlins, to become the leading RAF bomber of World War 2 . . . the Lancaster ! (NOTE:    Jim later became my 'boss' when I worked at Avro Canada in the 1950's)

At the far end of the apron was parked another relatively rare bird . . . a Handley-Page Hereford twin-engined bomber.   A Napier Dagger engined variant of the original H.P. Hampden bomber, it was never successful, as the in-line engines would overheat on take-off, and then super-cool in flight, leading to seizures.

Very few of these actually ever entered service, with none becoming operational as actual bombers, as far as I know.   Most were relegated to training duties and all suffered a high rate of attrition due to engine failures . . !

Here we have three Handley-Page Herefords in a rare flight formation.

I don't ever recall actually being in any of the aircraft on that apron . . . or of them being used by any other classmates as other than objects of idle curiosity as we passed them each day.    This could account for the fact that my memory may have grown a trifle hazy with old age as to the identity of other aircraft . . . if any . . . parked in that area.   There might have been a Stirling and one of the original twin Vulture-engined Halifax variants parked alongside the Manchester.   The first photo above, of the 44th Entry Drums leaving the New Workshops, shows the nose of a Wellington . . . I seem to recall that there was also a Handley-Page Hampden, "mother" of the Hereford, parked alongside it, and possibly a Whitley.   Also I have a faint recollection of a twin-engined Bristol . . . possibly a Blenheim variant or a Beaufighter . . . this is confirmed by a comment in Keith Youldons, (63rd Entry), excellent book on the history of the Drums, from where I "stole" the initial photo.

Just in case I'll throw in a few photos for old times sake !

Short Stirling

Handley Page Halifax

Armstrong-Whitworth Whitley

Bristol Blenheim IV

Bristol Beaufighter

Handley Page Hampden

Inside the "New Workshops" themselves, the space was divided into roughly three major classroom areas.   One each for the Engine Fitters and the Airframe Riggers, and a third devoted to Basic Workshop skills . . . use of hand tools, coppersmithing and sheet metal work.

To be honest I can't recall what aircraft were in the Airframe section other than a couple in that part devoted to wooden aircraft construction and repair.    There could be found the fuselages of two machines . . . a General Aircraft Hotspur troop-carrying glider, and a DeHaviland Leopard Moth.   The latter was memorable to me only because of the engraved placard on the dash - reminiscent of its' luxury pre-war life - which read :

Prototype and Production variants General Aircraft Hotspur

DeHaviland Leopard Moth

About halfway through the first year of training . . . winning the war with the Axis Powers still being uppermost in most of our minds, . . . the word came down from "on high" that those of us who so desired, could volunteer for aircrew duty upon graduation.    I'm not sure who actually did, but I would guess that it was well above 90% of the Entry.   Coincident with this episode we, of the 47th Entry, discovered that on occasional weekends, instead of compulsory sports activities . . . or Church Parades . . . would find ourselves at the airfield, being outfitted with parachutes, for introductory 'air experiences'.    The Station Flight operations in those days had quite an assortment of flyable aircraft at their disposal, plus a small transient group of instructor-qualified pilots, mostly "resting" following operational tours.   The leader of this motley group was a pre-war civilian flying instructor, known to us all as "Jasper" . . . after the villain in the 'Mellerdrama' . . . due to his sardonic attitude towards we cadets, not helped by the jet black hair, long flowing moustache, and pure white flying suit and helmet he affected.

Most of this pseudo-training and general flight experience was carried out in a miscellaneous collection of Tiger Moths, a couple of Oxfords, an Anson, a couple of Dominies, one or more Proctors, and for a short while at the beginning, a lone Magister.   I recall one flight in the latter before it disappeared to parts unknown.

Avro Anson (Early Bomber Variant)

Airspeed Oxford

DeHaviland Dominie (In my eyes, still one of the most graceful aircraft that ever flew !)

DeHaviland Tiger Moth

Miles Magister

Percival Proctor

A few incidents spring to mind from this early 'air experience' period.    One happened during a flight in one of the Oxfords . . . as we returned from a flight the skipper lowered the undercart as we turned downwind . . . nothing happened . . . the panel lights remained "Red" !   I happened to be sitting in the fuselage area atop the main spar, and was told to operate the emergency lowering system . . . I seem to recall that this was a hydraulic hand pump in that general area.    Well . . . I pumped, or whatever, but still no locked-down wheels.

So . . . down we went for a possible belly landing !    Now, with the Oxford, like the Dakota, even when fully retracted, the main wheels still protruded partially from the nacelles.   Ours had partially lowered, and this, together with the final protrusion, turned an otherwise potential mess into a simple slide with only a couple of bent props to show for it.   My first crash !!!

Halfway through that first year a series of events occurred involving loud nearby gunfire . . . a nasty sinus infection . . . and some ill-advised emergency surgery in a Sick Bay bed.   The ensuing septicemia and multiple major surgeries all combined to place Mick in a situation, that some two years hence would negate any chance of a full-time flying career in the RAF.   But of that . . . more anon !

Once a month, we were allowed a weekend afternoon "Off" and most went to Wendover or Aylesbury to do a little shopping or take in a movie.   On one such occasion, I had arranged with Dad for him to ride my bicycle over to Ivinghoe, some 15 miles or so distant.   I hiked to Aston Clinton, where I caught the bus to Ivinghoe.   After a short visit and picnic on the Beacon, I cycled back to Halton and Dad caught a later bus back to Luton.   With a means of transportation, which I kept hidden in one of the dis-used air-raid shelters in the woods behind #1 Wing barrack blocks, I was now able to devise schemes to "skip" Church Parades and make occasional 20-odd mile Sunday trips home for a good meal.

B. Halton . . The Second Year and Beyond

The second year at Halton continued pretty much in the same vein as the first . . . a quick delve into the Monosoupape radial engines of WW.1 and the joys of castor oil thrown back in a slipstream . . . classroom lessons in the innermost workings of current and past inline and radial engines . . . a visit from Frank Whittle, a prior school member who had invented a weird blowtorch like machine - the jet engine - destined to become the power plant of the future.   Half a dozen of us Fitters . . . the then-current 'top-dogs' in scholastic achievement were chosen to spend a few months learning, in strictest secrecy, the details of this new-fangled gadget .   We extended our skills in hand-fitting of intricate metal parts . . . learned the techniques of pattern-making and castings . . . coppersmithing and welding . . . the use of basic lathes, mills and presses.  

All this time, those of us lucky enough to have gotten onto the 'air experience' roster, continued to make our periodic visits to the airfield.

In those days, over and above the aircraft of Station Flight, in one corner of the airfield adajacent to the Rugby Football field, there existed several WW.1 canvas blister hangars, plus a couple of large 'parking areas', populated with scores of what I considered "interesting aircraft".
For the most part these were machines that had been commandeered from their pre-war civilian owners . . . or were RAF and Fleet Air Arm prototypes no longer needed.    A would-be fliers' "Hog Heaven" !    Occasionally one of the staff pilots would venture out to this area and take one for a joy-ride, but generally most just sat . . . looking lost and forlorn.   During scheduled visits to the field, whenever the absence of supervision, or weather related flying delays made it possible, I made it a point to stray to this area.   Some fascinating types were to be seen here.   A couple of Cierva Autogyros, one of which was equipped with the 'jump-start' pre-rotator system . . . one of the original Allison-engined Mustang prototypes from the USA . . . a Bell Airacobra . . . Blackburn Skuas and Rocs . . . an early Lancaster . . . a Miles Master . . . the list goes on.

Cierva Autogyro

Blackburn Skua

Avro Lancaster

I found myself intrigued by that cluster of tightly-laced canvas blister hangars . . . what was in there ?   So . . . that second winter, I took to sneaking out of barracks after dark, walking the mile or so through the woods and across the sports fields to take a peek.   With a little loosening of the door ropes I could crawl under the canvas, and with the aid of a flashlight . . . take a shufti !   Oh My !   Inside were every sort of antique fabric covered biplane known to man . . . the sort of stuff that would make the Shuttleworth Collection of today green with envy !
Today I can only guess as to what I saw on those frequent excursions . . . the following photos are typical of the types of aircraft in there. 

Gloster Gladiator   Avro Tutor

Avro 504   Bristol Fighter

Bristol Bulldog

Sopwith Camel   Hawker Hind

Royal Aircraft Factory BE2   Royal Aircraft Factory E8

Nieuport 28C   Hawker Cygnet

Hawker Hart   Hawker Tomtit

Gloster Gauntlet   Fairey Flycatcher

DeHaviland Puss Moth   DeHaviland Hornet Moth

DeHaviland Type 51   Bristol Fighter

From chatting with them, most of the 'hack' pilots on Station Flight . . . a mixed bag of NCO and Commissioned types . . . knew that I had, by then, a fair amount of pre-RAF flying under my belt.   Because of this, I tended to get somewhat more 'advanced perks' than others during this general 'experience' period.   Often our flights had a tendency to head towards Bedfordshire and a quick circling of the 'Old Homestead' .   On one occasion, coming back from a flight in a Tiger Moth, the pilot suggested that I try my first landing . . . all went well around the circuit . . . the final glide to touch-down . . . until I flared out for a 'perfect 3-pointer' . . . some 10 feet or more above the ground !    We bounced, although I never felt a thing . . . the sight of the nose rearing skyward led me instictively to hit the throttle and go around again.   The pilot took over control again and as we came in for a second landing the Duty Pilot on the Control Tower fired a Red Very flare warning us not to land . . . . no radios in Moths in those days !   Another circuit . . . . the same result !   Another Red flare !

So we stayed in circuit awaiting a possible Green !    Meanwhile, observing the activity on the ground below, we noted the white-suited and helmeted figure of Jasper running to another Tiger Moth along with one of the ground crew.   Someone swung their prop and the Tiggie took off and climbed steadily to fly alongside our plane.   As their Moth raced across the Halton grass aerodrome, which had a beautiful series of closely-spaced undulating low ridges across it, as if it had once been a cultivated farmers field, one of its' wheels fell off, un-noticed by us or its' crew..   With Jasper formating alongside us, his passenger . . . the Flight Sergeant i/c Maintenance . . . held up a wheel in his hands and kept pointing to our undercart.   Apparently the bumpy attempted landing of mine had snapped a joint in the diagonal inter-strut linkage and both main struts now had somewhat of a mind of their own.

DH Tiger Moth

Meanwhile, Jasper - not being aware that he had himself lost a wheel on take-off - continued to have the Flt. Sgt wave the spare wheel in his hands and point at ours.   My pilot, still unaware of our own broken "legs", after asking me how good was my Morse code still from my ATC days, indicated that I should inform Jasper of his own wheel-less predicament.   So, grabbing the Aldis signal lamp, from the clip on the cockpit wall, I sent my skippers' message :

Eventually both planes landed . . . ours with a gentle belly-slide that broke a prop and caused a few fabric tears in the underside . . . my second crash !   Jasper executed a beautiful single wheel landing which ended up in a ground loop as the wheel-less strut touched the grass.   A brief discussion, and my pilot and I were sent off again by Jasper in a third Moth to "erase" the memory !

On another occasion, standing there with a group of Brats awaiting another Tiggie ride, I was singled out by Jasper to go up with him . . .

We started up and took off, Jasper in sole control, climbing without a word to around 7 or 8000 feet.   Fat, dumb, and happy that Jasper wasn't, for once, making snide remarks, about my sloppy stick action, I just sat there in the rear seat.   I could see his face, with the usual sadistic leer, black moustache flapping in the slipstream, in the little strut-mounted mirror that the instructors utilised to check on us.   Without a word he chopped the throttle closed . . . pulled hard back and left on the stick . . !  Whoops !   We were in the grand-daddy of all spins . . . my first !

Instant total terror !   Through the interplane struts over Jasper's head, I watched the ground coming straight up at us, rotating steadily, faster and faster !   My first instinct . . . Jasper has passed out . . . or died . . . grab the stick and pull out of this terrible situation !   I clutched it with a deathlike grip and pulled back . . . it didn't budge !   A soft voice came to me through the Gosport earpieces in my helmet . . the Tiggie used a little two-way funnel and earpiece voice-tube system for intercom !

A quavering reply . . . .

Followed by . . .

During the second year the air experience scheme was expanded somewhat . . . possibly a dozen small groups of brats were selected from the prior aircrew volunteers to undertake glider pilot training.   The School had received a Dagling primary glider and a couple of Kirby Cadets, plus a surplus barrage balloon winch truck that had been converted to act as a sailplane winch.    Also included in the collection of odds and ends we received, were a couple of antique Standard Beaverette armoured cars.   With the armoured tops cut off by acetylene torches, these became tow cars for retrieval of gliders after each "flight".

               
        Dagling-type                                             Slingsby Kirby Cadet

Over the ensuing months, under the part-time guidance of various members of the Station Flight pilots, we plodded our way through the then-current concept of sailplane training . . . lateral balancing . . . ground slides . . . airborne slides . . . low hops . . . high hops . . . releases and S-Turns, etc.    The ending of the war with Germany in the Spring of '45 brought further changes to this programme.   That summer we received three or four captured ex-Luftwaffe Grunau Baby IIB and two Kranich 2-seater sailplanes.    These were turned over to the Riggers in Workshops classes for repair and general re-building . . . I believe we finished up with three of the Grunaus and one Kranich.    The Kranich turned out to be too heavy to ground launch with our winch in stock form, so a jettisonable dolly, fabricated with sheet metal and two Spitfire tailwheels. was designed and added,   Coincident with the arrival of the German sailplanes, came a full-time Flight Lieutenant Pilot Instructor, who had himself just hurriedly received his RAC "B" sailplane license.

                     
Grunau Baby IIB                                                                      Kranich                  

Meanwhile . . . in the "outside world" away from Halton . . . the old London Gliding Club at Dunstable Downs, had re-instated limited slope soaring activities in a few Kirby Tutors, the long-winged variant of our Kirby Cadets, and several privately owned sailplanes.   Having been a regular visitor to the Club with Dad in pre-war days, and passing the site on my "illegal" bike rides home at weekends, I took to making occasional visits with the help of "extra pennies" from Dads' pockets.   Thus I was able to bypass the "A" license limitations of Halton training and gain my "C" soaring license.   At the Club I met Geoff Stephenson, recently released from a German POW camp, and was offered a short solo flip in his beautiful blue "Gull" - the one in which he had made the first English Channel crossing in the late 30's.

Slingsby Gull

Prologue !   During our final year at Halton the 25th Anniversary of the Schools' founding was observed.   The inevitable formal parade on the Square . . . parents and other notables present to view our activities.   In the afternoon, a presentation of our gliding activities had been scheduled, but due to high wind conditions, it had been limited at the last minute, to simple circuits by our Chief Instructor and various Brat passengers, myself included, in the two-seater Kranich.   My parents, coming by to watch, start chatting with "His Nibs", in the course of which they let the cat out of the bag that I held a higher class of license than he himself did.   Result . . . I became the only Brat to make a solo flight that day in one of the Grunaus.

Following the ending of WW.2, some half-dozen or so of the highest-rated members of the Entry at Schools and Workshops, myself included, were 'rewarded' by overnight trips in the Station Flight "DH Dominie" to "rubber-neck" the RAF's bomb damage in the Ruhr Valley region of Germany.   By the luck of the game, all of the group made it except myself . . . twice I got taken as far as Manston . . . once into France . . . half a dozen times never leaving Halton . . . all due to inclement weather conditions.   On the other hand it enabled me to spend considerable time with the resident pilots of Station Flight gleaning snippets of valuable flying tips.

Additionally, in my first year at Halton I had become one of the "Book and Overall-Carrier" mob who marched to Workshops and Schools each day with the Drums . . . the Halton Pipe Band.   Later, I became a side-drummer in that group, until running afoul of the Band Corporal, Flem Carlton in my second year . . . result dismissal from the Drums !    In a way this was an unexpected bonus for me.   Our Admin NCO in "A" Squadron, Cpl. Kemsley was conditioned to my being with the Drums for practice on Wednesday and Saturday sports afternoons, so never thought to check for my presence on the regular sports teams listings.   This enabled me to often head down to the airfield and hobnob with the pilots.

At this point in time, the war being over . . . the pilots mostly awaiting their tickets back to Civvy Street . . . the atmosphere on Station Flight was, to put it mildly, rather relaxed and informal.   The net result was that I could often get bootleg flying hours, as a passenger, on some of the short range communication/courier flights the pilots made in the Dominie, Anson or Oxford to neighbouring airfields . . . occasionally a little dual stick time could be had.    Possibly, other Brats also had developed similar contacts and enjoyed this extra-curricular joy of flight.

As legend has it, a certain Brat sneaked out of barracks at daybreak one Sunday morning in 1946 . . . no Church Parade that day . . . and headed for the airfield.   A timely choice as it happened.    The Duty Sergeant Pilot was getting briefed for a routine courier trip in the Dominie up to Speke airfield, near Liverpool . . . the lad went along as a fellow passenger with the Flight Sergeant from Maintenance.   A beautiful summers day, mild with light puffy clouds . . . a rarity in England.    After landing, and parking the plane on the grass close to the Watch Tower, the two 'boggies' went off to conduct their official mission.   The Brat took the opportunity to take off his tunic and relax on the grass near the plane in the warm sun.   Just before the skipper returned, a USAAC light spotter plane landed crossways to the main runway, and taxied over to the Tower near the plane.   The pilot, a US Eighth Air Force Colonel it is said, got out and retrieved his duffel bag from the front seat . . . then strolled over to where the Brat was laying.

"Hey Joe !   Which way do I go to get to the boat ?"   His tour in the UK finished, he was heading home.

It was suggested that he check with the Tower crew and he started in that direction . . . paused . . . then came back to the lad.   "You're RAF, right ?"

He replied "Yes, Sir"

"Good . . . he said . . . "No sense letting a good kite like that go to waste", pointing to the spotter plane he'd arrived in.    "It's brand new . . . only uncrated a few days ago . . . no paper work caught up with it yet . . . Ya want it ... it's yours !"

As he started to leave again, the pilot and fellow passenger returned . . . a short discussion, a briefing on cockpit controls and instruments . . . then the Colonel arranged to have it refuelled . . . and the lad found himself instructed to assume the role of pilot and to follow the throttled-back Dominie back to Halton.   His first real solo in a power plane . . . an unfamiliar one at that . . . . albeit not too different in feel to a primary glider.   The trip back, apart from a few nervous thoughts at odd moments, was uneventful.   The Yankee plane, a Taylorcraft L-2, was pushed into the hangar behind the other planes, later to be re-painted in RAF colours, identified as a 'Christmas Tree' Tiger Moth, and used by the Station Flight pilots for unofficial recreational purposes . . . have often wondered what eventually happened to it.

In the last few weeks following final exams at Workshops and Schools, Air Ministry sprang a surprise upon the 47th Entry . . . several in fact.
Firstly, in response to several quibbles from the civilian Trade Unions which were, under the new Labour Government, beginning to rear their ugly heads, instead of being posted to operational Squadrons and Maintenance Units in the traditional fashion, we would all be sent for an additional year of Improver Training to become 'qualified journeymen technicians' !

Secondly, in addition to our scores in final exams, a new score would be factored in . . . one that was a measure of our behaviour as cadets.  So, in my own case, although I had the highest technical score of the Entry, I found myself downgraded due to several spells as a Janker-Wallah.

As a final gesture of their Lordships goodwill, it pleased them to announce that the Apprentices ranked in the top-sixteen of the amalgamated score list would be considered for Cadetships.   This would entail enrollment in a civilian University degree course, regular flying training, commissioning, further engineering management training at the Officers Technical College, and the Empire Test Pilots School.

Despite the setback from the "behaviour/Jankers" I still finished in the thirteenth spot out of some 200-odd Brats, so became eligible for the Cadetship.    For two to three weeks we were interviewed by several Boards of Inquiry . . . evaluated in the 'Officers Mess environment' to determine if we fitted the role of "gentlemen" . . . then poked, prodded and subjected to every conceivable form of physical examination.   In my own case it was found that, following the surgery on my head some two years before, I had almost totally lost the use of my right ear . . . thus my hopes of a test flying career went down the drain.    In the end only three lads made it through the selection process, Taff Holden, Bob Rowe and Jimmy Green . . . tha latter also lost an ear a year or two later, but was allowed to continue in the programme.

As a further 'reward' to the Entry, two, possibly three other Brats were awarded Administrative Cadetships to Cranwell . . . Ken Manning, Dave Muff, and possibly Ron Plater.   A final 'gift' was that of offering one of the Armourers, Dick Barker, a commission in the RAF Regiment.

C. No. 32MU . . RAF St Athan

Following the traditional leave period after Passing Out, some two hundred ex-Brats from the 47th Entry descended upon a small village in South Wales . . . RAF St. Athan . . . No.32 Maintenance Unit.   There we found ourselves in a so-called Improver Training programme for one further year . . . the Riggers assigned to re-furbishing WW2 Halifax bombers for sale to the new French Air Force . . . the Fitters to re-building US Packard-built Merlins to full Rolls Royce standards.  Midway through the year I and one other 47th Fitter were pulled from this project and assigned to help develop and set up the RAF's first jet engine overhaul programme.   A rather dreary year on the whole, with no opportunities to fly other than a couple of trips as a passenger in an Avro York, when the Military Band, to which I now belonged, travelled to RAF Lyneham and Pembrai. 

The one bright spot, for me at least, was the occasional opportunity to be sent out to the "Graveyards" to hunt scarce power plant components. This was a huge 'final resting place' for literally hundreds, if not thousands, of aircraft . . . both old and new . . . to the north of St Athan airstrip. Many of these were brand-new types, straight from the factory, that never saw wartime service and were deemed surplus to post-war requirements.

A fascinating place to linger awhile and explore . . . before the civilian wrecking crews came in with their cutting torches and carried the pieces off as scrap metal.

D. Central Fighter Establishment . . RAF West Raynham

All good things must come to an end and exactly a year to the day following our arrival at St Athan, the Entry was split up and posted to the far corners of Empire.   Along with fellow Fitter, Joe Larkworthy . . . Riggers 'Dip' Dye, and Dickie Watson . . . plus Instrument Basher Johnny Winch, my presence was requested at CFE West Raynham.   This was possibly one of the best postings available . . . interesting work at the forefront of British miltary aircraft development.   In addition to the primary role of development testing of pre-production prototype aircraft, both RAF and RN, the base was also home to the DFLS and NFLS tactical training units . . . Day and Night Fighter Leader Schools.  These units had the responsibility of teaching the latest combat tactics, learned or developed during WW2, to squadron commanders from all the Allied air forces.

Among the test pilots on staff at the time were all those later considered as household names in the post-war aerospace industry . . . Bill Waterton, Neville Duke, John Derry, Jan Zurakowski, Geoffrey DeHavilland Jr., Mike Cooper-Slipper, etc.    The Station Commander had been Douglas Bader following his release from POW captivity.   Young DeHavilland was killed when his DH108 Swallow disintegrated in a super-sonic test flight over the Thames Estuary . . . John Derry later lost his life in the DH110 disaster at the RAE Farnborough Air Show.

          
                      DH.108 Swallow                                                                    DH.110 Sea Vixen

Much of our routine work was that of major servicing and repair of the Spitfire XIV's and Mosquito VI's used by the two Fighter Leader units. It included ironing out the teething bugs of the new Planned Servicing techniques that were then being developed by Air Ministry.   In my own case, as one of the few LAC Fitters at the time from our Entry, I found myself working on power plant system development on several new types . . . the final Hornets, the last of the Sabre-engined Typhoons and Tempests, plus experimental Meteors, both high-altitude PRU's and 2-seat Trainer variants.   In the case of the 2-seater Meteor prototype, and several antiquated Mosquito 'Christmas Trees' I'd helped to restore to operational serviceability, I got the chance to make quite a few flights in the 'spare seat' with Mike Cooper-Slipper as test pilot. A few of the trips resulted in "overly hard landings" with lots of balsa wood splinters flying !

DH Hornet

Gloster Meteors

Around the end of 1947 volunteers were sought to be loaned to the newly-formed Royal Pakistan Air Force, as an instructor nucleus, following the partition of India.   The terms of service seemed quite good, so I added my name to the short list.   In the Spring of '48 I got the call to pack my gear and head for embarkation at Liverpool.    Aboard the good ship, HMT Georgic, I found close to a dozen other ex-47th Entry brats similarly bound.   Somehow it seemed that Air Ministry had gotten a few wires crossed, as first we docked in Haifa Harbour, on the day that Palestine became Israel . . . then proceeded to Port Tewfik at the lower end of the Suez Canal, where we all disembarked and travelled by rail to a little sandy hell-hole in the Canal Zone, RAF El Hamra.   Three days later, following an early morning 'disagreement with an intruding Arab', involving the use of a rifle and bayonet, while acting as a Guard Commander on the rear gate, I found myself with fellow 47th Fitter, Les Yaw, back on the HMT Georgic heading West-bound for Malta.

E. Malta GC . . RAF Safi, Ta'Qali, and AHQ Valletta

F. Training Schools . . RAF Henlow and Wheaton

G. A.I.S. Period . . RAF North Coates, St. Athan and Stoke Heath