COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

CHAPTER TEN CHARIOTS OF FIRE
the reserve pilot as one of his crew - no problem there - Frank and Pat
his wife gave me a warm welcome. But with Jack, who was Frank's
crew chief, the initial relationship was less easy. When I delivered the
Vanguard to his home, he decided to test my driving ability. Supper
dragged on and on, until there was hardly time to make the twenty or
so miles to catch my train from Banbury, then he tossed over the keys.
"You drive," he said, "but you'll have to go like the clappers."
Difficult to resist such a challenge - I knew the Vanguard better
now and used all its performance. By some miracle we got there intact
with a couple of minutes to spare and I hope he was thoroughly
frightened!
We drove more circumspectly on the way to Madrid. Even more so
after seeing Lome Welch's combination jack-knifed amongst the
poplars in southern France. It emerged later that the trailer chassis was
not symmetrical. Fortunately no one was hurt and the damage was
minimal. Now they were mobile again, somewhere ahead of us on the
final leg of the journey.
Castile at last and the bare plateau felt like an oven. The villages
which looked so picturesque in the distance were little better than
collections of hovels with families and livestock living together under
the same roof. The poverty was shockingly obvious as we wound our
way through the narrow streets. After a while we began to wonder
what was in store for us at the other end.
The airfield of Cuatro Vientos, a few miles south of Madrid,
seemed to confirm our worst fears. It was hardly better than a huge
overgrazed paddock, more dust than grass, with a windsock and a
couple of tiny hangers. A newly completed headquarters building, and
an elegant swimming pool, stood nearby in magnificent isolation.
That swimming pool was a godsend in the heat. Protected by its
massive walls from the dirt and dust outside we swam and sunbathed
and drank sangria - and sometimes chatted to the other teams. It was
here that the implications of a German entry, the first since the war,
struck me most forcibly. I found it interesting and by no means
unacceptable.
But the presence of Otto Skorzeny, and of Hannah Reitsch who
was competing in the two seater class, was a different matter entirely.
Many Nazis had taken refuge in Spain at the end of the war and the
legendary Skorzeny - who had been rather a worry when our
Typhoons were snowbound at Chievres in January 1945 - had settled
in- Madrid. With his black eye patch and close cropped hair he
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