Flying Start by Hugh Dundas

Author:Hugh Dundas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Bisac Code 1: HIS027140
ISBN: eBook ISBN: 9781844687169
Publisher: Pen and Sword
Published: 2011-07-12T04:00:00+00:00

The Typhoon aircraft dominated my life throughout 1942. The objective of putting it on the map as a successful fighting machine took on, for me, the nature of a personal crusade. In this I was supported over the months by an exceedingly enthusiastic and squadron-proud group of pilots. In 56 Squadron that year there was no odd man out. If one cropped up, then he went out. Whatever we did, on the ground as well as in the air, we did as one. When we went out in the evenings, we went as a squadron, each putting the same amount of money in the pool, which was then handed to a ‘treasurer’ appointed for the occasion. We were tremendously proud of the squadron, with its magnificent tradition – it had been one of the very best in the First World War, including among its pilots at that time such legendary aces as Ball and McCudden. And we insisted on being proud also of our Typhoons, despite the unending difficulties, disappointments and, sometimes, dangers with which they confronted us.

Having at last disposed of my plaster cast, I made my first flight in a Typhoon on 2 January 1942. Taxi-ing out, I felt as though I was about to try to take off in a steamroller. But once off the ground I soon responded to the sense of excitement engendered by the plane’s speed and power. I did a couple of rolls over the airfield and came in for a careful landing.

My pilots crowded round to get my first reactions. What did I think of her?

‘I think she’s great,’ I said. ‘The speed is really exciting. And what a steady gun platform she must make. But one thing’s certain. We’re not going to war until the rear view is improved. That will have to be put right.’

The sloping cover behind the cockpit on those early Typhoons was made of material that was solid and opaque not, as on the Spitfire and Hurricane, of transparent perspex. To make matters worse a slab of equally opaque metal armour plating extended almost from one side of the aircraft to the other immediately behind the pilot’s head. The result of all this was that, however far you leant over to peer back, there was a blank spot behind you which extended through a cone of about 160 degrees. I immediately made up my mind that this was utterly unacceptable. A fighter pilot who could not watch his tail was a dead duck, no matter how fast his plane.

I put in an official report, stating this view very strongly. It was a fortunate thing for me that at about this time Duxford station was taken over by John Grandy, then, I believe, the youngest group captain in the RAF. He was an experienced fighter pilot and he had an original mind and was not in the least afraid of pressing his views on higher authority. We saw eye-to-eye on most things and he gave me wonderful support and leadership in the difficult times ahead.

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