Part Two

After breakfast the next morning we reported to the briefing room as ordered. The weather was not very good, being rather damp and misty, and we were taken to see the Quartermaster Sergeant who decked us out in heavy weather gear, in the form of RAF-issue parkas and wellies. We were then split into two flights,  'A' & 'B', introduced to our instructors and given a lecture on the art of engineless flight until around eleven o'clock when the weather miraculously cleared - right on cue.
     
The training gliders we were about to be let loose on were the redoubtable Slingsby T.31 Cadet Mark III which, whatever redeemable qualities they might have possessed, we were to discover had the glide angle of your average house brick! After tea and wads from the NAAFI Wagon we set out for the airfield where I was to get my first sight of a glider. The machines were all housed in a large canvas hangar sited just off the perimeter track. Four T.31s, two per flight, had received their daily inspection and were awaiting our arrival. We helped manhandle them outside the hangar where they were hooked in pairs onto the back of two RAF three-tonners. With one cadet on the wing of each gleaming machine and the rest of us in the backs of the lorries, we set off across the grass airfield in magnificent lumbering procession for the day's flying. The two flights were each allotted one half  of the airfield, 'A' Flight was on the left doing left hand circuits with 'B' Flight on the right doing right hand circuits which appeared to mean that, all things being equal, the twain shall never meet.

After a most uncomfortable, bumpy ride we finally reached our dispersal point where  the three-tonner jolted to a halt. We all jumped out and unhitched the gliders before unloading a strange-looking bright yellow wood and perspex structure from the back of the lorry. This turned out to be the winch control desk which we set up facing the winch at the other end of the field. The contraption was basically a small wooden desk with three micro-switches on the top surface. It was fitted with a perspex covered windscreen on top of which were mounted three coloured headlamps, powered by a car battery, for signalling to the winch operator. My weird sense of humour again threatened to get the better of me when one of the instructors asked for a coat which he then proceeded to drape over the perspex screen. When a brave soul enquired as to the reason for this we were informed that it was to prevent the winch operator at the other end of the field from being dazzled by the sun's reflection in it. This was all very sensible, but as the desk was facing west at the time, with the sun behind it, and as the screen was obviously transparent for a reason, namely to enable the  unfortunate controller to see through it, it  all seemed to me wonderfully ridiculous.

Each Flight had two instructors who shared the pupils. All the instructors were regular  RAF pilots who had been sent to the gliding course for a rest from operational flying, Some rest cure. Inevitably, as my surname begins with A, I was picked as the first to fly from 'A' Flight. My instructor would be F/O Whittenbury who was extremely pleasant and popular, unlike some of the others who were real martinets. The first flight was to be for familiarisation purposes with the aircraft and circuit. The pupil sat in the front cockpit of the tandem seat glider. The control column was rather like a bicycle pump, pivoted to the floor between your legs and the rudder controls were of the organ pedal type. A bright yellow billiard ball on the left hand side of the cockpit operated the towline release. The instrument panel was very basic, comprising an altimeter, airspeed indicator and  bubble-type variometer. Although spoilers were fitted, the control lever in the front cockpit was disconnected. You needed to know your weight in pounds as the centre of gravity was critical and required adjusting by means of ballast in the form of cast iron weights attached to a fixture over the tailplane.

Each winch, which was adapted from the  standard wartime balloon winch, operated two cables, white and green. These would be controlled by flashing the white or green lights on the control desk, with long, slow dashes  indicating 'Take Up Slack' and short, fast dots 'All Out'. A continuous third red light meant 'Stop'. Once seated and strapped in, the orders came thick and fast. The wings were supported in  the level position by a cadet on one wingtip. The Instructor shouted "All clear above and behind?" to which the response from the wingman was "All clear above and behind, Sir!". Then, to the desk operator, "Take up slack, White!" and the response "Take up slack, White, Sir!". A little jolt, then "All out, White!" and we were off.

See Part Three