Autumn 2002 PW 5 - Cranfield University

NOSTALGIC FEATURE
CHILBLAINS AND FROZEN PIPES
Abercrombie Davidson
“Our Cranfield days were an experience which neither my
wife, Maud, nor I will ever forget,” writes‘Crombie’, as
you will have known him...
Married a year, it was the first time either of us had ever left
our native S. Africa for any length of time – certainly the
first time for a whole lot of other novelties, such as snow
and living in a caravan.
The motherly student affairs office had managed to reserve a
caravan for us, an 18-footer with electricity laid on. The water
supply was a hosepipe connected to a tap at the ‘Napier huts’ – a
couple of disused prefabricated buildings. The only WC in the
caravan was a bucket into which one poured ‘Elsanol’. These were
emptied – preferably at night – into a loo behind the Napier huts.
Living in a caravan in the snow was also a learning experience.
Chilblains, ordering coal from the college to burn in the little stove
in the caravan, and carrying water in a bucket, as the water pipe had
frozen.
Soon after arriving Maud found a job at the college shop. Then
she found she was pregnant and, thus, had her first experience of
the UK National Health Service. At first they tried to persuade her
to have the baby at home but, when they found out our
circumstances, reluctantly agreed on hospital. Lynette was
premature and we rushed to Bedford General Hospital in the
middle of the night. After the birth, Maud had to stay in hospital for
10 days – the custom at the time. When she came home, Lynette’s
‘evening colic’ made it impossible to study. The college took pity
and gave me a study in Stringfellow Hall – seemingly the residence
of choice for the Irish students, whose antics would turn your hair
grey. I still have a mental picture of Maud typing lab reports with
Lynette lying on her lap.
After my first lecture I was in despair. Professor Ward, Head of
Mathematics, gave no notes and lectured so fast it was impossible
to make your own. I was convinced that the standard back in the
colonies was so far behind that I would never pass but, to my relief,
I found that all the students were in the same boat. We formed
consortia to solve the tutorials he handed out.
Some students, so the story goes, decided to register their dismay.
They stood with a stretched blanket below the lecture room on the
top floor of the Stafford Cripps building. One student suddenly
College of Aeronautics 1959
The caravan site, 1959
stood up, and shouting: “I
can’t stand this anymore!” ran
to the window, opened it and
launched himself into space.
After the resulting chaos
died down, Prof Ward, who
had not moved from the
Crombie (right) with Maud (bottom
left) and some of his family when
they visited Cranfield’s alumni office
front of the classroom, merely requested: “Will somebody please
close the window...”
The students were always up to some prank. One night they
disassembled a concrete mixer and reassembled it in the principal’s
office; on dining-in night they pushed the Lincoln bomber onto the
middle of the runway, and staged an ‘Opening of the M1’
ceremony. My partner in Flight spent almost a semester with his leg
in plaster, having been thrown out of the window at a student
party. The student-run bar at Lanchester Hall remained open as
long as the bartenders were sober enough to continue serving.
Despite all this, I succeeded in my studies and returned to the
Flight Technical Section of South African Airways (SAA) just as they
received their first jet aircraft – Boeing 707s. In 1960, I was promoted
to Assistant Aeronautical Engineer and to Aeronautical Engineer in
charge three years later. In 1973 I rose to Deputy Technical Director
and in 1975 became Technical Director/Chief Aeronautical
Engineer.
In 1983 I left the airline to become Assistant General Manager of
the state-run South African Transport Services (SATS), where my
portfolio included the Planning Group and Data Processing – at that
time the largest in the southern hemisphere. When in 1998 the SATS
was decentralised and turned into a public company, the planning
responsibilities were delegated to the divisions (where they
belonged) and as a result most of my empire disappeared. Instead,
I took on additional support groups besides DP, including the
telecommunications group and Transnet housing.
In 1989 I became Chief Executive of Portnet – what, wondered the
shipping community, could an aeronautical engineer possibly know
about harbours? Actually Portnet was very interesting; we
controlled eight harbours – Durban was the busiest in the southern
hemisphere and Richards Bay one of the largest coal harbours in the
world.
I retired in 1994, and now find myself pretty busy doing all the
things I had no time to do while working.
Morane-Saulnier 760 ‘Paris’ flight test plane
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