By the gate of No. 60 Night Intruder O.T.U., at High Ercall, Wellington, Shropshire, England, on Tuesday 31 August 1943, with my 249:40 total flying hours, I’m 19 years old and about to fly Mosquitoes. YIPPEE!!!! It’s all ahead for me!!
Months earlier, on 19 February, I was credited with two aircraft destroyed, quite a feat for a young man. Unfortunately, they were ours, so my score didn’t count! My Instructor explained that they counted only enemy aircraft scores (such a pity). Only three more, and I’d have been an Ace!
All those years ago now, but I’d love to do it all again, only this time I would like you to come with me, meet the Mosquito and enjoy some wonderful flying. First, imagine yourself as that famous artist Frank Wootton, at his easel, painting at a WWII Squadron, with all the trappings that give life and time to the art. Aviation Art has been wonderful for aspiring aviators and enthusiasts over the years, firing up interest since flying began. It also livened up our Training Manuals where a picture was ‘worth a 1,000 words’, and how about The Aeroplane and Flight magazines which we looked forward to each month in the Officers’ Mess? Who can forget TEE Emm and P/O Prune?!?!? Just where would we model builders have been without your wonderful illustrations and inspirations to guide us?
Canadian Warplane Heritage does fine work preserving the memories of WWII, featuring the aircraft and people who helped make that history. We have been blessed with a steady stream of visitors from the start, with new exhibits arriving regularly. We’ve got a terrific reference library and the CWH ‘Store’ is second to none. Our capable staff and volunteers work hard to keep up this high level of interest. Many groups host special events here, to our mutual benefit. I am a life member of CWH (at the beginning, I was 13th to join), I’ve had the thrill of flying many of the Museum aircraft, and have checked out several Pilots wishing to fly them.
Flying Mosquitoes on Ops had its thrills too (at times more than we’d bargained for!), and it gave us a great appreciation of their worth. We respected them highly, flying them in their operational role, and also had tremendous admiration for the brilliant designers and craftsmen (many of whom were cabinet makers), who built our ‘Wooden Wonder’. Most other aircraft of that period were made of precious aluminium, so the Mosquito project didn’t affect that supply. It was a ‘win-win’ situation, and used a whole industry not taken up in war work. They did a superb job, adapting the Mosquito to its various roles, and its wooden construction withstood battle damage well, very often easily repaired.
But let’s go through the gate at High Ercall and begin!
Squadron Leader Phil Russell greets us once we are seated in the Briefing Room:
‘Good morning Gentlemen, and welcome to 60 O.T.U. You are Course #6, and will be with us for three months to train for your operational role as Night Intruder Pilots. You’ll likely fly about 75 hours here, plus several hours in our Link Trainer. After a few days here in Ground School, you’ll start flying. You will be divided into two groups, so we can juggle flying times, etc. effectively. You Navigators are qualifying too and you will soon ‘crew-up’. Initially, you’ll spend your time getting used to the aircraft, flying around England, then, with your Navigator, do cross-countries using GEE and night conversion. Following that, you will go away for a Gunnery Course, and when you return, finish up with flying that will simulate your night intruder role. You’ll then be sent to Squadrons and begin your tours. As Squadron aircraft are replaced with newer models, the old ones are put out to pasture to fly out their remaining days in Units like ours. This will give you a first-hand appreciation of the progress made as you compare flying older MKIIs with our latest MKVIs (which you will fly on Ops). I think you will find the Mosquito quite manageable with your various flying backgrounds. The weather in Canada and other countries you have trained in, is very good if you compare it with the UK and Continent; so expect to fly under marginal conditions over here, and also be prepared for flying to be scrubbed quite often. But on a more positive note, what better time could you find on those days, than to take advantage of our all-weather Link Trainer? I’m sure that you’ll love the Mosquito as much as I do. Any questions?
We would be given surprisingly little dual to check out on the aircraft, actually even less, because we didn’t do touch and go landings. Our Mosquito used up far too much runway to allow us to clean up, re-trim, and ‘Go’, so we had to taxi all the way back around the airfield for each takeoff. This resulted in way fewer circuits per hour. But then, we aircrew arrived with a known background from the BCATP, so a quick ‘check-out’ was expected of us. The main purpose of O.T.U. was to prepare us for our operational role: ‘Night Intruding’, and Bomber Command requirements were always changing so we had to adapt as they came up with new ideas. Our aircraft, and to a degree, we aircrew, were expendable. Everyone just had to get on with the job and the demands of war. That said however, nobody could take away from me the pure joy which flying the Mosquito gave me. For some pilots, it was just a job. But for me, it was the satisfaction of a raging hunger which filled my entire being!!
Looking back at my hours flying them, I remember several were spiked with excitement. I think of them as ‘Mosquito Moments’ and they stand out as my tale unfolds.
The Mosquito, still a bit of a mystery in those early days, made us even more curious about its legendary speed, power, armament, and diverse roles; so the few days we spent in Ground School were very interesting as we learned about it. First, of course, they taught us the basics: Wingspan of 54’ 2”, two Merlin 25 Engines, each having almost 1700hp, swinging 12’ diameter Props, and the Mosquito had a 50lb Wing Loading. It weighed over 11 tons. Our version, the MkVI, had four .303 machine guns, over four 20mm cannons all nested closely together creating a devastating concentration of fire. At times, we carried two 500-lb bombs. Also, our fuel load ranged up to 716 gallons. So, not surprising, our stalling speed was 130mph, and single-engine safety speed started at 170mph or more, depending on our load. We were given a copy of the traditional blue ‘Pilot’s Notes’, thinner than the manual you’d get today for your doorbell; yet it held all the information we needed to know. Strangely, they omitted any horsepower reference, just quoting engine numbers and operating limits, etc. I was ‘chomping at the bit’ to get into the air and finally, on Sunday morning, 5 September 1943 … I began!!
My Instructor was F/O Satchwell.
Out at the airfield, we stood beside this beautiful, but sinister-looking ‘dead-black’ monster, a MkIII Trainer (adapted from the fighter-bomber version). I went up to it and gave it a little shove, rapping it with my knuckles. It was as hard and rigid as concrete, unlike the Tiger Moth which you could wiggle with two fingers. (It scared the pants off me, and that alone is scary enough!!) After a quick walk-around, F/O Satchwell climbed up the tiny ladder, pushing his parachute ahead of him, through the small door in the fuselage, over the right seat, settling down in the left. I followed him up, strapped myself into the right seat beside him, and put on my helmet. Our Ground Crew had folded up the collapsible ladder and reached it up for me to stow in the door rack. He then walked under the starboard engine and gave it the required shots of prime, came out front, and gave us thumbs up for start, and went over to do the same for the other engine. F/O Satchwell called out: ‘Contact Starboard’, and pressed the starter and booster coil buttons together for the right engine. It roared into life. WOW!! What a noise!!! Our man then rapped the side of the fuselage with the back of his screwdriver (the noise level was too high for voice), signalling that it was okay to start the port engine; which we did. After we were running smoothly, he disconnected the battery-cart, and we turned on our generator and radio switches and were ready to roll, waving the chocks away. Now alive, this 11-ton ‘slug’ became like an eager racehorse. He waved us out onto the perimeter track and we pranced around to the runup position. Cleared for take-off by the Tower, after the pre take-off check and run up, we taxied onto the runway. He eased his throttles ahead, leading slightly with the left to counteract torque, at the same time pushing the control column fully forward as we rolled. He was keeping straight with coarse rudder, but instantly ready to use brake if required. The tail came up at about 70mph, and now with full rudder control we quickly gained speed. At about 100mph, it started to feel lighter, a bit bouncy, and we flew off around 120 to 130mph. He held it down to about 50ft to let the speed increase, squeezing the brakes a jab to stop the wheels, and raised the gear. At the end of the runway, he eased into a climb as the airspeed reached 180mph, and throttled back to 6lbs boost and 2650rpm, keeping it climbing away for the demo, letting the speed ease off to 170mph for max-climb.
This was faster than I used to cruise, so when we reached about 8000ft and he throttled back to cruise, we were going 250mph. WOW!!! He then showed me stalls, steep turns (‘Look at those wingtip vortices, George’), and let me do some; then single engine procedures, including the reaction when trying to climb out below the SE safety speed. We then flew back to Base for a circuit which was flown at 1500ft. The reason being that, if you were on one engine, the gear would take twice as long to deploy, and the extra height would be used to dive and get your single engine safety speed and raise the gear and flaps if the landing had to be aborted. 800ft on final was the decision point about going around. We were up for 45 minutes, and I was totally impressed. We then went off to lunch. He said:
‘We’ll fly again afterwards.’
Back at the Mosquito, I climbed in first this time to sit in the left seat (the Command position) and went through start-up procedure to taxi out for my first, hands-on, Mosquito flight. I was amazed at its responses and, although a bit stunned at the realisation of what I was doing, it all went well and we did two hours of circuits. As warned, I was ready for most of the Mosquito’s cute tricks and was ever ready to anticipate and correct any swing during take-off, and after landing as the tail came down. The braking system was very effective and successive quick double-jabs seemed to be the best technique. Tired but exhilarated, I taxied back to the flightline and shut down. He said:
‘That went well, George. See you in the morning.’
I was drained but happy and off we went to tea. Monday brought bad weather, however on Tuesday we did an hour and twenty minutes, and after the last touchdown he said:
‘Well, George, I think you’d better go up and do an hour on your own.’
I gulped, and said:
‘GREAT!!!’
I was totally blown away, being sent off solo with so little dual. But I was not going to argue with him! I had likely flown 12 circuits. He signed me out in a MkII fighter bomber and with an anxious feeling in my gut, I did it!!
Later, I thought: ‘WOW!! DID I REALLY DO THAT???’ He sent me up again later in the afternoon in a MkIII for more of the same, and for some local flying, and RT Homings. I was in Seventh Heaven!!
Two days later, Thursday 9th, when the weather cleared again, I flew solo for 1 hour 50 mins doing the same thing. By now, I’m starting to get a bit of a swelled head and I just can’t wipe the smile off my face. I felt a bit strange after a day off, going right back to flying solo, but my ‘butterflies’ were tapering off. I was far from feeling like an old hand at this, but I was gaining confidence with each solo flight … like a kid in a candy store!
English weather kept us down until Tuesday, 14th when another Instructor, F/O Deakin, took me up for an hour’s dual on instruments. Then after lunch, F/O Satchwell sent me off again for 1:40 local flying and homings. Wednesday 15th, wet again, but Thursday was great because I met and flew with the young man who became my Navigator.
After landing from a 1 hour 45 min. solo in a MkII, a young Navigator, F/O Paul Beaudet, asked me if he could come up for a ride, explaining that he was left over from the previous Course. My total Mosquito time was about 10 hours. I said: ‘Sure’, and he would be my first passenger if he felt okay with that. It was fine with Paul, and we went up in a MkII for 2hrs, 50 min. including 30 minutes on instruments. It was a happy flight, both loving the Mosquito. We both agreed immediately to become a ‘Crew’. We flew together from that time on.
My ‘check-outs’ continued with minimum dual, but my night flying check stands out clearly. F/O Deakin had me up the following Monday night, 20th September, for 1 hour 10 minutes, and said:
‘Okay, George. That’s enough of that.’
We taxied back in. He sent me solo the following night. As I stood by the aircraft before climbing in, in the pitch dark I glanced at the ‘Wrekin’ (a 1500ft landmark which loomed straight ahead of us, a few short miles after take-off). My knees were actually shaking, and my guts were clenching!! I climbed aboard, strapped in, and started up. Now, with both engines running and the radio turned on, I felt better as I flew my first solo night circuits, and I felt relief afterwards.
Next day, 22 September, I went on Leave and didn’t fly again for almost two weeks, on 4 October. Those long intervals between solo flights didn’t help my confidence level too much, when each following time I climbed in and flew the Mosquito. However, gradually I was getting used to it, and Paul’s company was comforting as well.
That was the end of my dual instruction, except for a couple of demos for air-to-air firing and low flying. Paul and I then concentrated on x-country, ‘Gee’ navigation flights, as well as practice night intruder trips to Ireland, simulating the same procedures going and returning across the Irish Sea that we would use over the English Channel later on our way to and from Germany.
By the end of our Course, I had about 75 hours on ‘type’ and was raring to go!!
This article is from the Winter 2015 issue of Confound and Destroy
