COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

CHAPTER SIX DYING REICH
cowling into the other cockpit.
Difficult to know what to say in such a situation. I shouted in the
sudden silence:
"I'm awfully sorry old chap."
He never replied, just leapt out and ran, as if pursued by the
fiends of hell. The markings on his Spitfire were Free French, the
Cross of Lorraine. Perhaps I had spoken in the wrong language!
The engine was shock tested, a new radiator and propeller fitted,
and my aircraft was airborne again in a matter of days. The Spitfire
was a write off. Vive le Typhoon!
Soon afterwards, flying photo recce on a Wing show near Emden,
the attack ended quicker than expected. Badly positioned, and trying
to follow the last aircraft in before the ground defences had time to
draw breath, my approach was too steep with insufficient nose down
trim. Holding the dive to get the usual close up photograph I was
forced to make a violent recovery, pulled far too much 'G', and passed
out completely.
As consciousness returned I could hear the engine, feel the spade
grip in my hand, and see nothing. Vision cleared, and the aircraft was
in a gentle climbing turn to port, the target far below. Sunshine
flooded the cockpit like a reprieve. And then I looked at the wings. On
each side, inboard of the cannons, there was a massive chordwise
wrinkle and there were missing rivets all over the outer panels.
I flew gingerly home reflecting that, even in the circumstances, the
amount of 'G 1 had been quite phenomenal. Extra care was always
needed to pull off a smooth landing in the photo recce Typhoons
although the elevator felt perfectly normal on the ground. There was
undoubtably something different about them. I must find out why.
Stan Carr inspected the mainplanes in silence and consulted the
Squadron Engineer Officer who had been a stressman at Hawkers
before joining the RAF.
In the end they decided that the spars were undamaged - the
wrinkles on the inboard wing section, which was not stressed skin,
were of no consequence - and new rivets would take care of the rest.
After that had been done, and the wrinkles hammered flat in an effort
to recover the original aerodynamic shape, photo 'C was returned to
service.
The Typhoon's rugged structure had probably saved my life. But
any investigation of its unusual flying characteristics would have to
wait. For much to my relief we were moving on once more. I had seen
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