Paul, Ralph : Addinsell's Warsaw Concerto was on Radio 3 only this week. Even though it's obviously pastiche Rachmaninov, I love it. I was very interested to read about Addinsell - amazing what you learn from these Boards
Chris
Very new old boy
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silver-fox
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Paul, I did not know anything about Richard Addinsell’s war service. At 40, he would probably have been the oldest navigator on that raid.
Chris, you are quite right. The producers tried to get Rachmaninov to write the score, but he refused. Coincidentally, Rachmaninov was the next composer that I ‘discovered’, followed by many of those in northern Europe - from the latter part of the nineteenth century onwards.
Silver, there were two types of bomb that did not detonate on impact. There was the delayed action bomb that was intended to go off at some future time and there were the duds. It didn’t happen all that often but you would hear the whistle as it descended and then nothing. Mostly there was evidence as to where the bomb was but sometimes, as you know, some were not found for years and how many more are out there still waiting to be found? Bombs can do strange things. It has been known for a non-exploding bomb to start going through the earth vertically and then being deflected by say a change in the soil structure, to actually travel horizontally. Now where do you look for it?
Here’s an edited quote from Page 31, Volume IV, of The Strategic Air Offensive Against Germany 1939-1945, the official record, discussing British not German bombs.
. . . Bomber Command dropped over half a million 500-lb. G.P. bombs . . .they were relatively inefficient and all too often defective weapons. . . . .and large numbers of the bombs failed to detonate.
I have always regarded this as an absolute scandal. Whatever the merits or demerits of the bombing campaign, sending those young crews to fight through shot and shell so that they can deliver useless lumps of metal is unbelievable. The shortcomings of the weapon designs were appalling.
Ralph
Chris, you are quite right. The producers tried to get Rachmaninov to write the score, but he refused. Coincidentally, Rachmaninov was the next composer that I ‘discovered’, followed by many of those in northern Europe - from the latter part of the nineteenth century onwards.
Silver, there were two types of bomb that did not detonate on impact. There was the delayed action bomb that was intended to go off at some future time and there were the duds. It didn’t happen all that often but you would hear the whistle as it descended and then nothing. Mostly there was evidence as to where the bomb was but sometimes, as you know, some were not found for years and how many more are out there still waiting to be found? Bombs can do strange things. It has been known for a non-exploding bomb to start going through the earth vertically and then being deflected by say a change in the soil structure, to actually travel horizontally. Now where do you look for it?
Here’s an edited quote from Page 31, Volume IV, of The Strategic Air Offensive Against Germany 1939-1945, the official record, discussing British not German bombs.
. . . Bomber Command dropped over half a million 500-lb. G.P. bombs . . .they were relatively inefficient and all too often defective weapons. . . . .and large numbers of the bombs failed to detonate.
I have always regarded this as an absolute scandal. Whatever the merits or demerits of the bombing campaign, sending those young crews to fight through shot and shell so that they can deliver useless lumps of metal is unbelievable. The shortcomings of the weapon designs were appalling.
Ralph
Indeed, he would have been 40 by the time of that raid. I've searched for more details, but all I can find are brief mentions of his RAF career, like in this one:auster wrote:Paul, I did not know anything about Richard Addinsell’s war service. At 40, he would probably have been the oldest navigator on that raid.
http://us.imdb.com/name/nm0005941/bio
Martin Middlebrook's book, "The Nuremburg Raid" ( which I currently don't have ) gives a few more details, e.g his squadron and where he was based. He never revealed his 'other' life to his colleagues. They would quite often play 'The Warsaw Concerto' on a gramophone in the mess, completely unaware that the composer was sitting right next to them.
Paul,
Many thanks for that information. The things you learn on this site. Martyfly is right, I do wonder why I wasn’t here years ago.
I went looking for my copy of Martin Middlebrook’s book to see if there was a mention of this. Haven’t found it yet. I think the Polish Government presented him with an award for his work.
Ralph
Many thanks for that information. The things you learn on this site. Martyfly is right, I do wonder why I wasn’t here years ago.
I went looking for my copy of Martin Middlebrook’s book to see if there was a mention of this. Haven’t found it yet. I think the Polish Government presented him with an award for his work.
Ralph
Hawkers
The war had finished and in the summer of 1946, Dad was promoted and we moved from Lincoln to Wandsworth, London. At school, I had just completed my first year in the sixth form and after one more year in the Upper Sixth I was scheduled to go to university to study maths. The move interrupted this plan and I started at a new school for the final year. The contrast between the schools was enormous. I had come from a ‘working class’ but very progressive and industrious grammar school where it was usual for everyone to get a university place, several of them to Oxbridge (I’m talking about the time when only about 10% of the student population made it to university). The new school was on the public schools’ register and the students there were sons of stockbrokers, doctors, solicitors, etc. When one of them said I was bucolic, I thought he was paying me a compliment.
This school had an abysmal academic record (like about 3 getting places out of 15) but was very good at sports. The financial burden on my parents for various reasons was enormous. The only place that you could buy the school uniform was at Harrods! Trousers £5, blazer with a portcullis badge, £9. Dad earned about £8 per week!!! My brother also attended this school. The masters wore gowns and the head wore a mortarboard hat plus gown. I felt uncomfortable and out of place.
One day I was talking to a lad who was in the year behind me and he happened to say that he had applied for a job at Hawker Aircraft in Kingston because he had no plans to go to university. What a turn up! Never occurred to me! I had a think and decided that rather than spend the next few years as student I would rather get among the aeroplanes. It was an easy decision to make, not least because it was a chance to relieve the financial pressure on my parents a bit, and I managed to get an interview for a 5-year apprenticeship.
The interview itself was extraordinary. Here was I, a 17-year-old callow youth, who didn’t know a bee from a bull’s foot, sat in front of 5 interviewers! They were no less than one of the Directors, the Company Secretary, the Chief Inspector, the Apprentice Supervisor and I can’t remember who the fifth one was! Talk about over the top. I still cannot believe that they were there or even needed to deal with me! As you know, engineering apprenticeships were normally taken up to learn a trade and eventually you became a turner, miller, fitter, etc. This one was new and different – you were to spend some time in each of the departments whilst studying engineering theory, finally going into the design office with a practical background. When they offered me an apprenticeship, I accepted it with enthusiasm.
Back at the school, Head speaking, ‘You’re going to do WHAT?’ ‘Work in a factory! Whatever are you thinking about? You are on your way to a university!’
I left Xmas, 1946 and started in the detail fitting shop at Hawker Aircraft in January 1947. Only been there about 4 weeks and they sent everyone home. It was the year of the big freeze and numerous factories had to close because of the lack of fuel and power. The closure lasted about 6 weeks.
What was very good about this apprenticeship was that you were ‘attached’ to an experienced hand or, if the department was large enough, several separate hands to learn about a range of processes.
I really did not know what to expect at Hawkers but I assumed that I would be among the aeroplanes. I must say that it was a huge disappointment to realise that there were no aircraft within miles of the place. What was there were hundreds of bits that go to make up an aircraft, brackets, angles, clips, cleats, plates, etc. At first, they confused me because I did not know where they went or what they did. It’s true that the drawings for these parts had a panel titled ‘Type’ and this had something like ‘Sea Fury FB 11’ in it, so I knew that I was in the right place.
A couple of interesting processes went on in this shop. Hawkers maintained a very high standard of finish and the Sea Fury rudder was assembled there It was skinned with aluminium alloy 26G (.018 inches) thick (or thin?) which is prone to pant or oilcan when rivetted. (previously, all rudders had been fabric covered). To tension it the sheets were placed over the ribs and then large panels of infrared lamps were brought up on both sides, switched on and the skins expanded. The only trouble was that the two fitters had to work with the lamps behind them whilst they drilled and pop-riveted the assembly. In the summer, the glass roof trapped the sun’s heat and these two were in a permanent sweat. When the lamps were removed and it all cooled down, the skin was tight and blemish free. The other process surprised me. When they had to make a batch of canopies for the Sea Fury, they got out the former for it. This was made of highly polished resin-impregnated compressed wood. They put a large sheet of 3/8 inch thick Perspex between more infrared heaters and then four fitters got hold of the corners, each using a pair of pliers and pulled the now pliable and stretchable Perspex down over the former, whilst a charge hand pushed down on it with a cloth and inwards at the bottom to form the re-entrant flare which blends in with the fuselage profile.
I stayed in the shop for about nine months and then moved into the machine shop. This was even further away from aeroplanes than the fitters. Lots of obscure turned parts, lots of obscure milled parts, ditto ground parts. About the only thing that I saw that related to the Sea Fury was when they plough ground the forged steel tail hooks to form the mounting faces.
Next was the heat treatment department where I learned a lot about hardening, annealing and normalising. It was equipped with furnaces and quenching tanks and hardometers (they’re for testing metals, for goodness sake!). Next came the plating shop where production parts were corrosion proofed. The steel parts were cadmium plated (its poisonous nature was not discussed in those days and it is now banned) and the aluminium parts were anodised
Great attention was paid to corrosion proofing the structure because the Sea Fury operated at sea (Oh, yes!). The aluminium alloy was Alclad which has a very thin layer of near pure aluminium bonded to the alloy core. This was because of the superior corrosion resistance of unalloyed aluminium. Yellow zinc chromate paint was sprayed everywhere and all joints between components had a layer of Duralac applied. This was thick goo again containing zinc chromate.
It was at about this time that Hawkers arranged for a number of us apprentices to go to RAE Farnborough for a day. No, not to the air display but for a guided tour around the workshops, offices and labs. We visited the 3 wind tunnels and walked inside the 24 feet diameter one where you could edge between the cascades that were place at the four corners. The rotor blades were enormous and the rotor itself had to be positioned precisely to have minimum gap between its tips and the annulus. Later we went to a carpentry shop where they were actually carving blades of this size from laminated sections set in a helix. We also saw their small vertical tunnel, in which they placed balsa models to check for spin recovery. They had an elastic band on the rudder with a lit fuse and they recorded the action when the fuse caused the rudder to click over. It all looked a bit small to me. They also had a water tank that they used for testing and recording the take off characteristics of flying boat models. The models were supported at their wing tips on the carriage and their weights were to scale. They were designed so that they just cleared the water before they reached the end of the tank. Outside they showed us an experimental catapult that was used for launching aircraft placed on a carriage. The latter had 2 large spikes facing forward, one each side and they pierced the replaceable lids of large water filled cans. This system decelerated the carriage in a controlled way so that the aircraft would overtake it and fly off. They told us that once, someone forgot the water, so the carriage didn’t decelerate and parts of it went up with the aircraft falling off some way away.
Next stop was the very large Richmond Road assembly shop, which is where Sopwith aircraft were assembled during WW1. There are numerous photographs showing this production. Here I did get among the aeroplanes, or at least among the major sub-assemblies. I worked mainly on the wings and undercarriage. They used rigs that enabled the whole wing to be completed, including the hydraulic functioning and testing of the undercarriage retraction and wing folding. The sub-assemblies were then transported to the company airfield at Langley, just to the east of Slough. The Hawker Siddeley group had been formed and contracts were exchanged between its members. At one time I found myself acting as a rivet-boy on the inside of a batch of Gloster Meteor MK 8 rear fuselages. The noise was deafening and I used to have permanent headaches at that time. Mind you, all the fitting shops were very noisy due to the amounts of solid riveting and swearing that were going on. This exchange of contracts led to almost the entire production of the Sea Hawk being done by Armstrong Whitworth because Hawkers did not have the capacity due to the forthcoming Hunter production.
In a corner of this very large workshop was the experimental shop and we lesser mortals were never allowed in there. However, the door was sometimes open and I do remember seeing the mock up of a sleek jet aircraft inside. This turned out to be the Hunter. My next move was to the Flight Sheds at Langley.
Langley was a small airstrip, long gone because of its proximity to expanding Heathrow. There were two sets of black hangars, one set comprised the Flight Sheds and the other hangars were used by AVM Bennett of Pathfinder fame who was operating an air transport company from there (Berlin Airlift and all that). At the side of the Flight Sheds was an air traffic control block where the pilots’ offices were. ‘Wimpy’ Wade was the chief test pilot and Neville Duke the deputy chief test pilot. There were 2 or 3 more pilots for testing the production aircraft. This is what I had been waiting for. There was almost continuous flying going on. We chatted with the pilots from time to time. Neville Duke was an absolute gentleman.
A number of different aircraft types were being handled. Firstly, there were the Sea Furies for the Royal Navy as well as new Pakistani Furies, looking very smart in their two-tone brown upper camouflage and sky blue undersides with the green and white roundels and tail insignia. The production pilots flew these out to Karachi, usually. Also there were ex-RAF Tempests MK6 that were being sold to India after re-conditioning and that was some of the work that I did.
After the first flights of the Sea Furies there were always snag sheets to be dealt with. Often the pilot had reported prop vibration due to it bedding down and loosening and I remember this enormous spanner that stretched up from waist height to the crankshaft height, being pulled and tugged by several fitters. Also, they were forever reporting the oil pressure gauge fluctuating. This involved muggins here, big and beefy, having to go down into the cockpit head first to worm my way under and round the back of the panel above the rudder bar to replace the gauge, nuts, bolts, capillary tube, etc. I really wasn’t made for that job but the old boy I was attached to was – all 5 feet of him! Unfortunately for me he had made himself a little sleeping nest in the roof of the hangar and he used to just disappear! It was ages before I found out about his little secret. Actually he was a nice old boy and lots of fun. But after a short time I was attached to Bert Hayward.
Bert had been with Harry Hawker since 1918, was a licenced engineer for airframes and engines and he looked after the Hawker Flight. This consisted of ‘The Last of the Many’ Hurricane, G-AMAU, now with the BoBMF as PZ865, the Tomtit, G-AFTA, originally owned by Neville Duke and now with the Shuttleworth Collection, a plush Anson 12 that had belonged to Emperor Haille Selassie of Ethiopia and a Dragon Rapide, all painted in the Hawker colours of blue and gold. Sidney Camm’s first design, the Hawker Cygnet was also there and I seem to remember a Miles Messenger also in blue and gold. At the back of the hangar was a silver Hawker Hart, dismantled. I was told that its Kestrel engine had a cracked cylinder block and they were looking for a replacement. I am pretty sure that it was the one restored to flying condition that is now at Hendon as J9941.
The aircraft of the flight were not used much and so the engines had to be run on a regular basis. Bert would say to me ‘Ralph. Got to run the Merlin today’. And then he would stare at me with a fixed grin. We would push the Hurricane out to the tie-down point, chock it and tie down the tail wheel to a hard point. He would get into the cockpit whilst I trundled up the ground starter battery trolley and plugged its cable into the socket. He would start the engine and then, after a period of idling to warm it up, signal me un-plug the ground starter. For those who are unfamiliar with the Hurricane layout, the ground starter socket is in the fuselage on the left hand side low down and just forward of the wing root. So, to unplug it, you have to walk along the leading edge of the port wing to get at it. I would creep along the wing and when I got about half way, he would then open up the throttle and I would have this bloody great propeller, about a yard to the left of my head, exhaust flames above my head and all of it giving me kittens and taking my breath away!! Unplugging the batteries was then far harder to do because of the draught and he, grinning away, left it at that throttle setting whilst I struggled to clear the area.
One day, Frank Murphy, one of the test pilots came up to me and asked if I would like a flight in the Dragon Rapide. I think he had to check the local weather. I cleared it with the foreman, dashed out and boarded it for my very first flight ever. Overcast cloud base was about 1500 feet, I think, and as we broke out on top I saw a new world of glorious sunshine, stunningly clear blue sky and a carpet of brilliant fleecy clouds stretching out to the horizon. Magical!
I really could not have asked for a more interesting and absorbing finale to the works experience of my apprenticeship. I enjoyed every day of it. Just imagine how privileged I was when I could jump into the cockpit of a Hurricane whenever I liked.
Next stop was the design school back in Kinston, with only 2 students! There we designed a control column and rudder bar. We also stressed the components i.e., we calculated the stress levels according to specified loads for stick shoving and pushing and rudder bar kicking. From memory the stick loads were 200 lb fore and aft, 80 lb sideways and 400 lb on the rudder bar, which must have assumed the pilot was in a blind panic.
I then went to an offshoot of Technical Pubs for a short time. Rather oddly, this department designed repairs schemes for the Sea Fury, Sea Hawk and Hunter and also wrote Vol 6 (Repairs) of the Air Publications for these aircraft. This position was a stopgap because I was due to serve His Majesty any time now.
Ralph
The war had finished and in the summer of 1946, Dad was promoted and we moved from Lincoln to Wandsworth, London. At school, I had just completed my first year in the sixth form and after one more year in the Upper Sixth I was scheduled to go to university to study maths. The move interrupted this plan and I started at a new school for the final year. The contrast between the schools was enormous. I had come from a ‘working class’ but very progressive and industrious grammar school where it was usual for everyone to get a university place, several of them to Oxbridge (I’m talking about the time when only about 10% of the student population made it to university). The new school was on the public schools’ register and the students there were sons of stockbrokers, doctors, solicitors, etc. When one of them said I was bucolic, I thought he was paying me a compliment.
This school had an abysmal academic record (like about 3 getting places out of 15) but was very good at sports. The financial burden on my parents for various reasons was enormous. The only place that you could buy the school uniform was at Harrods! Trousers £5, blazer with a portcullis badge, £9. Dad earned about £8 per week!!! My brother also attended this school. The masters wore gowns and the head wore a mortarboard hat plus gown. I felt uncomfortable and out of place.
One day I was talking to a lad who was in the year behind me and he happened to say that he had applied for a job at Hawker Aircraft in Kingston because he had no plans to go to university. What a turn up! Never occurred to me! I had a think and decided that rather than spend the next few years as student I would rather get among the aeroplanes. It was an easy decision to make, not least because it was a chance to relieve the financial pressure on my parents a bit, and I managed to get an interview for a 5-year apprenticeship.
The interview itself was extraordinary. Here was I, a 17-year-old callow youth, who didn’t know a bee from a bull’s foot, sat in front of 5 interviewers! They were no less than one of the Directors, the Company Secretary, the Chief Inspector, the Apprentice Supervisor and I can’t remember who the fifth one was! Talk about over the top. I still cannot believe that they were there or even needed to deal with me! As you know, engineering apprenticeships were normally taken up to learn a trade and eventually you became a turner, miller, fitter, etc. This one was new and different – you were to spend some time in each of the departments whilst studying engineering theory, finally going into the design office with a practical background. When they offered me an apprenticeship, I accepted it with enthusiasm.
Back at the school, Head speaking, ‘You’re going to do WHAT?’ ‘Work in a factory! Whatever are you thinking about? You are on your way to a university!’
I left Xmas, 1946 and started in the detail fitting shop at Hawker Aircraft in January 1947. Only been there about 4 weeks and they sent everyone home. It was the year of the big freeze and numerous factories had to close because of the lack of fuel and power. The closure lasted about 6 weeks.
What was very good about this apprenticeship was that you were ‘attached’ to an experienced hand or, if the department was large enough, several separate hands to learn about a range of processes.
I really did not know what to expect at Hawkers but I assumed that I would be among the aeroplanes. I must say that it was a huge disappointment to realise that there were no aircraft within miles of the place. What was there were hundreds of bits that go to make up an aircraft, brackets, angles, clips, cleats, plates, etc. At first, they confused me because I did not know where they went or what they did. It’s true that the drawings for these parts had a panel titled ‘Type’ and this had something like ‘Sea Fury FB 11’ in it, so I knew that I was in the right place.
A couple of interesting processes went on in this shop. Hawkers maintained a very high standard of finish and the Sea Fury rudder was assembled there It was skinned with aluminium alloy 26G (.018 inches) thick (or thin?) which is prone to pant or oilcan when rivetted. (previously, all rudders had been fabric covered). To tension it the sheets were placed over the ribs and then large panels of infrared lamps were brought up on both sides, switched on and the skins expanded. The only trouble was that the two fitters had to work with the lamps behind them whilst they drilled and pop-riveted the assembly. In the summer, the glass roof trapped the sun’s heat and these two were in a permanent sweat. When the lamps were removed and it all cooled down, the skin was tight and blemish free. The other process surprised me. When they had to make a batch of canopies for the Sea Fury, they got out the former for it. This was made of highly polished resin-impregnated compressed wood. They put a large sheet of 3/8 inch thick Perspex between more infrared heaters and then four fitters got hold of the corners, each using a pair of pliers and pulled the now pliable and stretchable Perspex down over the former, whilst a charge hand pushed down on it with a cloth and inwards at the bottom to form the re-entrant flare which blends in with the fuselage profile.
I stayed in the shop for about nine months and then moved into the machine shop. This was even further away from aeroplanes than the fitters. Lots of obscure turned parts, lots of obscure milled parts, ditto ground parts. About the only thing that I saw that related to the Sea Fury was when they plough ground the forged steel tail hooks to form the mounting faces.
Next was the heat treatment department where I learned a lot about hardening, annealing and normalising. It was equipped with furnaces and quenching tanks and hardometers (they’re for testing metals, for goodness sake!). Next came the plating shop where production parts were corrosion proofed. The steel parts were cadmium plated (its poisonous nature was not discussed in those days and it is now banned) and the aluminium parts were anodised
Great attention was paid to corrosion proofing the structure because the Sea Fury operated at sea (Oh, yes!). The aluminium alloy was Alclad which has a very thin layer of near pure aluminium bonded to the alloy core. This was because of the superior corrosion resistance of unalloyed aluminium. Yellow zinc chromate paint was sprayed everywhere and all joints between components had a layer of Duralac applied. This was thick goo again containing zinc chromate.
It was at about this time that Hawkers arranged for a number of us apprentices to go to RAE Farnborough for a day. No, not to the air display but for a guided tour around the workshops, offices and labs. We visited the 3 wind tunnels and walked inside the 24 feet diameter one where you could edge between the cascades that were place at the four corners. The rotor blades were enormous and the rotor itself had to be positioned precisely to have minimum gap between its tips and the annulus. Later we went to a carpentry shop where they were actually carving blades of this size from laminated sections set in a helix. We also saw their small vertical tunnel, in which they placed balsa models to check for spin recovery. They had an elastic band on the rudder with a lit fuse and they recorded the action when the fuse caused the rudder to click over. It all looked a bit small to me. They also had a water tank that they used for testing and recording the take off characteristics of flying boat models. The models were supported at their wing tips on the carriage and their weights were to scale. They were designed so that they just cleared the water before they reached the end of the tank. Outside they showed us an experimental catapult that was used for launching aircraft placed on a carriage. The latter had 2 large spikes facing forward, one each side and they pierced the replaceable lids of large water filled cans. This system decelerated the carriage in a controlled way so that the aircraft would overtake it and fly off. They told us that once, someone forgot the water, so the carriage didn’t decelerate and parts of it went up with the aircraft falling off some way away.
Next stop was the very large Richmond Road assembly shop, which is where Sopwith aircraft were assembled during WW1. There are numerous photographs showing this production. Here I did get among the aeroplanes, or at least among the major sub-assemblies. I worked mainly on the wings and undercarriage. They used rigs that enabled the whole wing to be completed, including the hydraulic functioning and testing of the undercarriage retraction and wing folding. The sub-assemblies were then transported to the company airfield at Langley, just to the east of Slough. The Hawker Siddeley group had been formed and contracts were exchanged between its members. At one time I found myself acting as a rivet-boy on the inside of a batch of Gloster Meteor MK 8 rear fuselages. The noise was deafening and I used to have permanent headaches at that time. Mind you, all the fitting shops were very noisy due to the amounts of solid riveting and swearing that were going on. This exchange of contracts led to almost the entire production of the Sea Hawk being done by Armstrong Whitworth because Hawkers did not have the capacity due to the forthcoming Hunter production.
In a corner of this very large workshop was the experimental shop and we lesser mortals were never allowed in there. However, the door was sometimes open and I do remember seeing the mock up of a sleek jet aircraft inside. This turned out to be the Hunter. My next move was to the Flight Sheds at Langley.
Langley was a small airstrip, long gone because of its proximity to expanding Heathrow. There were two sets of black hangars, one set comprised the Flight Sheds and the other hangars were used by AVM Bennett of Pathfinder fame who was operating an air transport company from there (Berlin Airlift and all that). At the side of the Flight Sheds was an air traffic control block where the pilots’ offices were. ‘Wimpy’ Wade was the chief test pilot and Neville Duke the deputy chief test pilot. There were 2 or 3 more pilots for testing the production aircraft. This is what I had been waiting for. There was almost continuous flying going on. We chatted with the pilots from time to time. Neville Duke was an absolute gentleman.
A number of different aircraft types were being handled. Firstly, there were the Sea Furies for the Royal Navy as well as new Pakistani Furies, looking very smart in their two-tone brown upper camouflage and sky blue undersides with the green and white roundels and tail insignia. The production pilots flew these out to Karachi, usually. Also there were ex-RAF Tempests MK6 that were being sold to India after re-conditioning and that was some of the work that I did.
After the first flights of the Sea Furies there were always snag sheets to be dealt with. Often the pilot had reported prop vibration due to it bedding down and loosening and I remember this enormous spanner that stretched up from waist height to the crankshaft height, being pulled and tugged by several fitters. Also, they were forever reporting the oil pressure gauge fluctuating. This involved muggins here, big and beefy, having to go down into the cockpit head first to worm my way under and round the back of the panel above the rudder bar to replace the gauge, nuts, bolts, capillary tube, etc. I really wasn’t made for that job but the old boy I was attached to was – all 5 feet of him! Unfortunately for me he had made himself a little sleeping nest in the roof of the hangar and he used to just disappear! It was ages before I found out about his little secret. Actually he was a nice old boy and lots of fun. But after a short time I was attached to Bert Hayward.
Bert had been with Harry Hawker since 1918, was a licenced engineer for airframes and engines and he looked after the Hawker Flight. This consisted of ‘The Last of the Many’ Hurricane, G-AMAU, now with the BoBMF as PZ865, the Tomtit, G-AFTA, originally owned by Neville Duke and now with the Shuttleworth Collection, a plush Anson 12 that had belonged to Emperor Haille Selassie of Ethiopia and a Dragon Rapide, all painted in the Hawker colours of blue and gold. Sidney Camm’s first design, the Hawker Cygnet was also there and I seem to remember a Miles Messenger also in blue and gold. At the back of the hangar was a silver Hawker Hart, dismantled. I was told that its Kestrel engine had a cracked cylinder block and they were looking for a replacement. I am pretty sure that it was the one restored to flying condition that is now at Hendon as J9941.
The aircraft of the flight were not used much and so the engines had to be run on a regular basis. Bert would say to me ‘Ralph. Got to run the Merlin today’. And then he would stare at me with a fixed grin. We would push the Hurricane out to the tie-down point, chock it and tie down the tail wheel to a hard point. He would get into the cockpit whilst I trundled up the ground starter battery trolley and plugged its cable into the socket. He would start the engine and then, after a period of idling to warm it up, signal me un-plug the ground starter. For those who are unfamiliar with the Hurricane layout, the ground starter socket is in the fuselage on the left hand side low down and just forward of the wing root. So, to unplug it, you have to walk along the leading edge of the port wing to get at it. I would creep along the wing and when I got about half way, he would then open up the throttle and I would have this bloody great propeller, about a yard to the left of my head, exhaust flames above my head and all of it giving me kittens and taking my breath away!! Unplugging the batteries was then far harder to do because of the draught and he, grinning away, left it at that throttle setting whilst I struggled to clear the area.
One day, Frank Murphy, one of the test pilots came up to me and asked if I would like a flight in the Dragon Rapide. I think he had to check the local weather. I cleared it with the foreman, dashed out and boarded it for my very first flight ever. Overcast cloud base was about 1500 feet, I think, and as we broke out on top I saw a new world of glorious sunshine, stunningly clear blue sky and a carpet of brilliant fleecy clouds stretching out to the horizon. Magical!
I really could not have asked for a more interesting and absorbing finale to the works experience of my apprenticeship. I enjoyed every day of it. Just imagine how privileged I was when I could jump into the cockpit of a Hurricane whenever I liked.
Next stop was the design school back in Kinston, with only 2 students! There we designed a control column and rudder bar. We also stressed the components i.e., we calculated the stress levels according to specified loads for stick shoving and pushing and rudder bar kicking. From memory the stick loads were 200 lb fore and aft, 80 lb sideways and 400 lb on the rudder bar, which must have assumed the pilot was in a blind panic.
I then went to an offshoot of Technical Pubs for a short time. Rather oddly, this department designed repairs schemes for the Sea Fury, Sea Hawk and Hunter and also wrote Vol 6 (Repairs) of the Air Publications for these aircraft. This position was a stopgap because I was due to serve His Majesty any time now.
Ralph
Cracking stuff Ralph 
I worked as an 'arty' maker for many years, using a variety of materials..unfortunately not in the aviation industry :sad: ...your description of hauling a sheet of perspex over a former to form a canopy..four guys with pliers on each corner whilst the gaffer smooths it down????... :shock: ....
..my kind of job...
Looking forward to the next chapter...and very glad that you're posting your experiences here...saved for posterity..
ATB,
Derek
I worked as an 'arty' maker for many years, using a variety of materials..unfortunately not in the aviation industry :sad: ...your description of hauling a sheet of perspex over a former to form a canopy..four guys with pliers on each corner whilst the gaffer smooths it down????... :shock: ....
..my kind of job...
Looking forward to the next chapter...and very glad that you're posting your experiences here...saved for posterity..
ATB,
Derek
'My Auntie Mabel told me I'd make a great soldier, though I don't know how 30 years working in a biscuit factory had qualified her to make that judgement.....' Eddie Nugent
Airborne Signals
Airborne Signals
Sorry Ralph..I should have said 'artistic'....for many years I worked as a professional modelmaker....lots of pattern and mould making. Then I got side-tracked and became a furniture maker.
My biggest regret now is that I didn't work in the aviation industry...
Derek
'My Auntie Mabel told me I'd make a great soldier, though I don't know how 30 years working in a biscuit factory had qualified her to make that judgement.....' Eddie Nugent
Airborne Signals
Airborne Signals