COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

CHAPTER EIGHT IN A QUANDARY
immediately below the standard blind flying panel.
I remember one morning taking the Vampire out over Woburn,
where the carcases of heavy bombers, which had been flown there to
be broken up, were scattered around the Duke of Bedford's estate like
stranded whales.
I went higher as the sunshine weakened under the cirrus of an
approaching warm front. Enjoying the smooth vibrationless ride, and
near silence, which had been such an attractive feature of the Meteor.
Just the gentle hiss of air sweeping past the canopy and cockpit sides.
But there was another dimension to the Vampire. It was a
thoroughbred with delightful handling and light, well harmonised,
controls. I ran through a sequence of aerobatics and found myself over
a vast complex of earthworks and concrete runways which was the new
London Airport.
The three fuel gauges stared at me accusingly. It was high time to
go home. I leaned the nose down in a long shallow dive back to
Cranfield, aware of the slippery feel, as the speed built up and the
airflow sounds became louder and more urgent. Apart from the
delightful absence of torque and vibration this greater awareness of the
surrounding air was one of intense pleasures of jet flying.
Back in the circuit, low on fuel, and the nose wheel refused to lock
down. I went through the usual motions, made a pass close to the
watch tower, and they said it looked OK. Still no green light and the
tanks were almost dry. This time I held the nosewheel off deliberately
for as long as possible and all was well - although there was barely
enough fuel to taxi in.
The turbine faded into silence and I climbed out savouring the heat
and smell of Kerosene. As Gloster's man on the course it was
embarrassing to realise that I preferred the competition. In their
different ways all de Havilland aircraft which I had flown seemed to
have admirable handling characteristics - Moth, Mosquito, Vampire
- and the Dove too later on.
At the other extreme we tried our hands at a couple of very
different gliders. Thanks to Ron Hockey, and his Special Forces
contacts, a Halifax and Hamilcar came to Cranfield for several days of
intensive flying.
The Hamilcar was huge, its tandem cockpits far above the ground
and, on tow, the controls were heavy. My two flights were early in the
day, when the air was calm, and there was no difficulty in holding
station just above the slipstream. So I began to ease my way out of
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