Trials and Errors

by Mike Brooke

  However, only a few months later, with typical lack of vision or foresight, the War Office dismissed Cody and Dunne from military service and withdrew all funding for future aeroplane development. The generals believed that there was no military future for the flying machine. Oddly, Cody and Dunne were allowed to keep their aeroplanes and pay for their own future development, but they were not allowed to keep the engines! It only took three years for the military bigwigs to change their minds and in 1912 the first Military Aeroplane Competition took place. Much to the chagrin of his former employers Cody won first prize!

  During those three years the Balloon Factory had evolved into the Air Battalion of the Royal Engineers and then, on 13 April 1912, that became the Royal Flying Corps (RFC). By now many private aeronautical companies had been set up and were thriving. Names like Avro, Sopwith and Bristol were building relatively successful aircraft, many of them copied from foreign designers such as Wright and Farman. But the military ethos was maintained at Farnborough where the RFC had its HQ and the civilian-managed Royal Aircraft Factory was tasked with designing, building and testing aeroplanes for purely military use. The first Officers’ Mess for the use of the RFC was built on that raised ground from where Cody had launched himself only four years earlier.

  With the outbreak of the First World War the RFC HQ was absorbed into the War Office in London and the Factory’s output was now tested and delivered to France by RFC aircrew based nearby, on the eastern end of Laffan’s Plain, at what was officially known as South Farnborough, or more colloquially ‘the Park’. Many of the Factory’s designs are still well known to aviation buffs: FE2, BE2, RE8 and SE5a to name (or should that be enumerate?) but four. They all flew and fought alongside their civilian-built counterparts, such as the Sopwith Camel and the Bristol Fighter, during the horrific conflagration that was ‘The War to End All Wars’.

  During that conflict the Army had provided personnel for the RFC and the Royal Navy had formed its own flying arm, known as the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS). Both of these forces had spent most of the war in support of their respective parent services. It was a senior RFC officer and pilot, called Hugh Trenchard, who proposed a resounding case for an independent air arm, with the vision of carrying out strategic bombing in any future armed conflict. His arguments were accepted and on April Fools’ Day 1918 the Royal Air Force was formed. This had two immediate effects: Trenchard became the first head of the RAF and promoted himself to Air Marshal and the Royal Aircraft Factory could no longer continue to use its RAF acronym so it became the Royal Aircraft Establishment – RAE.

  With peacetime came a clearer definition of the establishment’s function. It was no longer to be a factory turning out military aeroplanes but to expand its experimental role to become a centre of expertise in all things aeronautical. The RAE continued to be headed by a scientific civil servant, known as the Chief Superintendent, but the wartime staff of over 5,000 was reduced to 1,380. The RAF continued to provide experienced pilots to both advise and fly the research projects.

  Between the two world wars the RAE built a formidable reputation in many areas of aeronautical research. These included the definition of all the parameters that affected an aeroplane during a spin; development of engine superchargers; and research into structural loads and the often-fatal phenomenon of ‘flutter’.15 Research into high altitude flight led to the formation of the RAF IAM, co-located at Farnborough. Part of that initial aeromedical research led to flights in 1936–37 up to the amazing height of 54,000ft, with the pilots dressed like deep-sea divers!

  During this inter-war period three breeds of government employees staffed the RAE: scientific civil servants, civilian skilled technicians and craftsmen and military officers. Most of the latter were RAF pilots who were specially selected for their experience and outstanding levels of skill. Many of these first-class aviators would lose their lives while expanding the envelope of collective aeronautical knowledge in this still relatively little known science. In order to allow the RAE to concentrate on pure research and development (R&D)16 the testing and evaluation for service of aircraft offered to the War Office and Ministry of Aviation became the province of the aforementioned A&AEE, which was based at Martlesham Heath in Suffolk.

  At the outbreak of the Second World War the A&AEE sensibly retreated westwards from Suffolk to the large airfield of RAF Boscombe Down in Wiltshire. At RAE Farnborough the work expanded and accelerated to support the war effort. There was an influx of the nation’s leading scientists and versatility and effectiveness were the watchwords for their work. As in all wars, money became no object and bureaucratic procedures were minimised. Whereas at Boscombe Down the work concentrated on bringing specific aircraft types, armaments and equipments up to scratch for service use, Farnborough was taking a much more in-depth approach to the testing of allied aircraft types with a view to performance improvements across the board. Another RAE role soon became the evaluation of captured enemy aircraft types, while the newly-formed RAF IAM expanded its work in survival at high altitude and under ever increasing G-forces; for which a man-carrying centrifuge was built.

  Amongst the RAE’s important, and often ground-breaking, contributions to the war effort were the gyro-stabilised bomb- and gun-sights, an automatic dead-reckoning navigation aid and a huge growth in the understanding of ballistics, fluid dynamics and aircraft structures. Core research into flight at high subsonic speeds was just one of the many very high-risk areas into which the RAE’s pilots had to tread. For instance, in early 1944, Sqn Ldr Tony Martindale was flying a Spitfire in a dive when, at 0.9 Mach (about 600mph) and 27,000ft, the propeller shattered. The reduction gearbox flew off the front of the engine and the resultant collateral damage covered the windscreen in oil and coolant. However, Martindale found that he still retained control of his injured steed and with consummate skill he glided the 20 miles back to Farnborough where he carried out a faultless forced landing. By doing so he brought back all the data and, most deservedly, earned himself an Air Force Cross. There were many more instances of similar calm, skill and expertise shown by service pilots at the RAE during the Second World War.

  Although in 1945 there was a concomitant downscaling with demobilisation, the work of the RAE in the fields of jet propulsion, high-speed and high-altitude flight continued almost unabated after the end of hostilities. International collaboration, particularly with the Americans, had blossomed during the war and continued well into the peacetime era. The coincidence of the vast amount of data on flying at high altitude and high speed accrued by the RAE with the performance of the new jets, the Gloster Meteor and the de Havilland Vampire and Venom, led, in 1945, to the re-formation of the RAF High-Speed Flight, under the command of RAE test pilot Gp Capt. ‘Willie’ Wilson. And it was he, leading from the front in a Meteor, who established a new world speed record of 606.4mph (975.9 km/h) off the English South Coast on 7 November 1945. Research into the jet engine led, in 1946, to the creation of the National Gas Turbine Establishment in woodland at Pyestock, adjacent to the RAE Farnborough site. The early 1950s saw specially built research aircraft flying from Farnborough to test a variety of powerplants provided by industry. This research led to some weird and wonderful flying machines being seen in the 1950s Hampshire skies. Such as the world’s first turboprop powered aircraft, a modified Meteor. Or the Short Sperrin that had its four jet engines in two vertically mounted pods on each of its wings – did Petter get his idea for the Lightning’s engine layout from this? Then there were Canberras fitted with the new Rolls-Royce Olympus engines or rocket packs in their bomb bays that zoomed to incredible altitudes. On 28 August 1957 Canberra B2 WK 163, piloted by Mike Randrup, flew to over 70,000ft and held the world altitude record for about eight months.17

  The mid 1950s brought about a huge spurt in aerodynamics research. There were the three diminutive, triangular-winged aircraft built by Avro for research into the delta-wing (and forerunner of the formidable Vulcan nuclear bomber). The stalky-legged Shor
t Brothers SC1 for exploring the possibilities and problems of vertical TOL (eventual forerunner of the Harrier). The Handley Page 115 slender delta to look into the low-speed handling of such wings (a forerunner of Concorde). The Fairey Delta 2 supersonic research aircraft was another. But these exotic and immeasurably valuable aeroplanes flying over and around the burgeoning urban development encroaching ever closer to the airfield at Farnborough was not tenable. Fortunately that air-minded visionary Sir Stafford Cripps had proposed, in the late 1940s, that a national aeronautical establishment be created in the wide open spaces of Bedfordshire, centred on three wartime airfields that were close to each other north of the town of Bedford.

  By 1955 Cripps’ vision of the 5-mile long runway and collocated wind tunnel site had dimmed somewhat, but the airfield at Thurleigh now had a 10,000ft runway and two sites for aircraft operations as well as technical and scientific support buildings. So it was to there that the erstwhile Farnborough-based Aerodynamics Flight decamped. Meanwhile RAE Farnborough took oversight of activities at Bedford as well as ownership and responsibility for the support of missile testing in the Cardigan Bay Test Range in the Irish Sea, with sites at Aberporth and Llanbedr on the west Welsh coast. Also under its umbrella was the airfield at West Freugh in south-west Scotland, with its bombing ranges in Luce Bay, south of Stranraer. There were other sites around the British Isles for specific aerospace research work, all coming under the oversight and management of the Chief Superintendent at RAE Farnborough.

  By the 1960s RAE Farnborough was a busy place and the organisation was still operating much as it had done in the past, with functional ‘flights’ manned by service test pilots and commanded by a squadron leader, or RN or Army equivalent. Work now included much more R&D in the field of electronics, including HUDs, navigation systems, automated flight controls, high frequency radio communications and the development of electro-optical devices. In 1968 a decision was made to move the ETPS out of Farnborough, where it had resided since 1947, back to its birthplace, Boscombe Down. This decision was another symptom of management’s concern over the amount and type of flying activity going on over and near the densely populated areas in and around Farnborough and Aldershot. Nevertheless, the risks inherent in that situation were still exercised every two years, and had been since 1948, when the Society of British Aircraft Constructors (now SBAC) held its six-day air show.

  By the mid 1970s the ‘sharp end’ of RAE Farnborough – its flying units, air fleet and the aircrew who operated and managed them – were organised along the following lines. At the top of the pyramid was the Commanding Officer Experimental Flying, invariably known as ‘COEF’. He was a RAF group captain and test pilot. At the time that I arrived Gp Capt. Reggie Spiers was settling into this particular hot seat, having just taken over from his predecessor, Gp Capt. ‘Polly’ Parrat. Gp Capt. Spiers was an avuncular man with a look of a 1930s huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ country squire. But his appearance belied his background as a fighter test pilot at Boscombe Down and the CTFI at ETPS. ‘Uncle Reggie’, as I would soon learn that most of my colleagues called him (not to his face of course), was a great raconteur and had a very ready sense of humour. I would also soon discover that he was a formidable after-dinner speaker, with the ability to deliver the most humorous oratory with mellifluous ease. He did, much later, admit to me that he actually prepared his speeches meticulously and was always quite nervous; it never showed. He also had a wonderful collection of scale model aeroplanes that he had crafted with all the detailed care of a trout fisherman making artificial flies.

  As COEF Gp Capt. Spiers was responsible to the senior airman in the MOD Procurement Executive for the safe and effective conduct of all flying from any of the RAE sites. He was also responsible to the Chief Superintendent RAE for the efficient use of resources under his command and control in support of the overall scientific effort. In effect COEF was the RAE’s Chief Test Pilot. In command of all the flying activities and airfield support facilities at Farnborough was another test pilot, this time of wing commander or equivalent rank. He was also COEF’s deputy and his job equated to a combination of a squadron commander and OC Operations Wing rolled into one. At my arrival through the hallowed portals of ‘the Factory’ this post was being filled by Wg Cdr David Bywater. He was a man with a lot going across his desk and always seemed to be very busy. He did, however, ‘keep his hand in’ by flying regularly with the various flights under his overall command. I had seen him at Boscombe Down before I had started my test pilot course, but only in passing.18 He was presiding over a Board of Inquiry into the loss of a Jaguar during a flight test sortie; I had been impressed by his youthful looks and abundance of blonde hair!

  Both these senior men had their offices in the prominent, white-painted control tower situated right alongside the main runway and so could exercise a great deal of first-hand supervision of their subordinates and their flying. The RAE flying units based at Farnborough in 1975 were: the Experimental Flying Squadron (EFS) with three flights – A (Aircraft Systems), B (Radio and Communications) and C (Weapons Systems) and an independent Transport Flight, which provided air transport around the main RAE sites. Also based at Farnborough were the Meteorological Office’s Research Flight (MRF), who operated a much modified Lockheed C-130 Hercules and a Canberra PR3; there was also the flying element of the IAM, which had its own two-seat Hawker Hunter T7. A squadron leader or equivalent commanded each of the flights; the IAM aircraft was operated within the EFS, but the project pilots for all IAM trials were medical officers who were also fully trained military pilots. In 1975 the RAE Farnborough aircraft fleet included such types as Hunter, Buccaneer, Canberra, Comet, Andover, BAC-111, Devon, Puma, Wessex, Gazelle and Sea King. As I drove east to start work on EFS C Flight, I wondered if I would get to fly all of these.

  Notes

  13 Freugh is pronounced something like ‘Frooh’ with a Gaelic gutteral embellishment for which there is no easily written expression.

  14 Still preserved on the site today and a Grade 1 listed building.

  15 Flutter happens, usually at high speeds, when control surfaces start to oscillate violently and divergently, more often than not leading to structural failure and total loss of control.

  16 R&D was sometimes known as ‘Risk and Disaster’!

  17 At the time of writing WK 163 is still airworthy and will feature again later in my tale.

  18 See the final chapter of Follow Me Through, The History Press, 2013.

  13 SETTLING IN AND

  DROPPING FISH

  For the third time in my thirteen years in the RAF I had found myself moving house and settling into a new job just a few days before Christmas. Overall it was our eighth move in ten years of married life. No wonder service personnel get so used to what is said to be one of life’s most stressful events. I suppose that the stress is still there, but somehow subdued by familiarity; although doing it in winter just ahead of Yuletide doesn’t help!

  I reported for duty at the rather downbeat-looking buildings of the EFS on Monday 22 December 1975. They were situated on the south side of the airfield, near a wooded area in which was the huge green tank that had held the de Havilland Comet fuselage in the 1950s investigation into the Comet’s in-flight disintegrations. The squadron buildings were all single-storey, with a mixture of wartime and more modern adapted portacabins. There was an adjacent double hangar and various aircraft parking areas very close by. Before 1968 this area had been the flying end of ETPS.

  First I met my new flight commander, Sqn Ldr Richard ‘Rich’ Rhodes. He was a largish chap with a broad smile and welcoming, ‘hail fellow well met’ air. He took me to the office I would share with the flight’s other two pilots, Flt Lt Ian Frost, inevitably known as Jack, and Flt Lt Terry Adcock. Both were test pilots and ex-Lightning pilots; Rich Rhodes also fitted into that category. The navigators on C Flight shared another office in the same portacabins and they were Flt Lts Mo Hammond, Vic Avery and Ian Hail. The latter of this t
rio of directional and positional consultants made it possible on many days for Frost and Hail to be widespread over much of the UK, even on warm and sunny ones!

  Vic Avery had been on No. 16 Squadron with me in the 1960s. Before that he had been a member of the ETPS staff at Farnborough. This led to an amusing story that he told me later. At Farnborough there was a fleet of cars that acted like free taxis for staff that needed to move beyond walking distance around the site. We on EFS used their services a lot to go from our rather remote location over to the ‘Factory’ for meetings, or to the western ‘squadron’ area where many of our aircraft were based. Most of the drivers were friendly ladies, not of a tender age. When Vic had arrived back at Farnborough in 1975, after an absence of at least seven years, one of these ladies collected him from his quoted location to return him to the squadron HQ. ‘Oh, hello, sir,’ she said brightly, ‘I haven’t seen you in a while. Been on leave?’

  I was allocated a locker in the aircrew changing room, given the usual pile of books on the local flying regulations to read and told to make sure I’d signed in the appropriate place to certify that I had done so. Some things about life as RAF aircrew never change! In slower time I met some of the other aircrew on the squadron. A Flight was commanded by test pilot Sqn Ldr John Bishop, who was not only an ex-fighter pilot but an accomplished pianist who could frequently be found practising his scales and arpeggios in the Officers’ Mess. I used to think of him as an aviating Beethoven! The other A Flight test pilots were Flt Lt Harry Maclean and, like me, newly arrived from ETPS, Flt Lt Vic Lockwood. Yet more ex-Lightning pilots! Four helicopters were included within the A Flight ‘Order of Battle’ and were manned by three RN pilots, two of whom were test pilots. B Flight was commanded by its sole tp, Sqn Ldr Pete Smith, a small, bird-like chap who nearly always had an air of eager busyness about him. Having all the multi-crew transport aircraft under his wings he had command of a multitude of pilots, navigators and air engineers to help him. Among them was a real gentleman, Flt Lt Ken Mills, one of a slightly older generation than all of us eager young tps. Ken was unswervingly considerate to everyone, an accomplished transport aircraft pilot and captain and a man who crafted and flew the most beautiful large-scale flying model aircraft that I had ever seen. Ken would often invite us ‘jet jockeys’ to learn the art of handling heavy aircraft as occasional co-pilots. He would eventually check me out on the Comet. However, the real backbone of the EFS organisation was the Ops Room staff and its formidable, but softly-spoken overseer, Mrs Penny Lawrence.