COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

CHAPTER NINE A KIND OF APPRENTICESHIP
Early in the morning, on the day after my introduction to Carrow
et al, David Dick and I were bungyed off in our respective club
Olympias. We kept together, climbing in the smooth untroubled lift,
until we were almost a thousand feet above the hill. Airbrakes were to
be the modus operandi for our little game - the leader unlocking his
to create a little extra drag - and the number two using them like a
throttle. At least that was the idea. For we intended to fly our
sailplanes in close formation.
Within minutes we were making a neat echelon starboard, then line
abreast, moving closer - responding to the familiar hand signals - a
few careful turns - steeper now and less tentative with growing mutual
confidence. Into line astern and back to echelon. Then building up
speed for a couple of tight low passes, moving as one, sweeping along
the ridge.
Soon the first feeble rags of cumulus began to form and drift back
over the ridge and the smooth lift distorted into areas of growing
turbulence. Accurate station keeping became more difficult. It was
time to call it a day. We wound up our little show with a fighter break
over the clubhouse and down in time for one of Mrs Jarrett's
substantial breakfasts.
My only regret is that we failed to work it up further - or to use
it for some of the air displays which came my way soon afterwards.
But David gave up gliding, and our lives diverged, when he went back
into the RAF.
He eventually retired as an Air Vice Marshal, after a career which
had included ETPS, V bombers, OC Flying and Commandant at
Boscombe Down, and a spell as Director of Operational Requirements.
Later that week Espin Hardwick, chairman and founder of the
Midland Gliding Club offered us a flight in his Slingsby Petrel. A
singular honor for two such recent practitioners at the Mynd. An
embarrassment too, as we were invited to fly it again whenever we
wanted. For his pride and joy was not all that it seemed. Without any
doubt the highly cambered gull wings gave it an outstandingly good
low speed performance. Marvellous in weak lift. But the penetration
was negligible.
In addition the old gas bag had a strong objection to flying at more
than about 45 mph. She told you so by shuddering noisily. Two
enormous clear vision panels were the origin of that unpleasantness. As
the speed increased they generated considerable turbulence, and
sufficent sound and fury, to discourage any rash thoughts about
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