In the RAF each aircraft has a Captain who is responsible for it and its crew. I don't know if this is the same for the other Services but the Captain is usually, though not necessarily, the pilot. He might not be the most senior in rank  but, once aboard, the Captain is traditionally addressed as 'Sir' by his crew, including groundcrew, even if they normally outrank him. When even a humble sixteen year-old ATC Cadet is a pupil under instruction at the controls of a training glider, the Instructor relinquishes command to his pupil who technically becomes the Captain of the aircraft. Likewise, once the pupil goes solo, as the only person aboard he is the Captain of that aircraft. In order to launch the glider it is necessary for the Captain to issue certain commands to the groundcrew who are required to respond, indicating that they have been understood and carried out. It was strange at first, but we soon got used to addressing our mates, even the  most lowly ranks, as Sir, with one notable exception. On looking back, it was rather unkind, but we all felt quite smug when the stuffy Warrant Officer was told in no uncertain manner that he would be sent home immediately if he was not prepared to follow tradition and address a fellow pupil in the manner befitting the Captain of a RAF aircraft. We had the feeling that the unfortunate fellow was not popular with our Instructors either.

We reported to dispersal after breakfast on the second day and after carefully manhandling our machines from the hangar went straight out onto the airfield to resume flying. One of the procedures covered during the lecture on the previous day had involved approaching the field at the correct altitude in order to land within it. Depending upon one's indicated altitude on the base leg, lazy S manoeuvres extending to figures-of-eight were considered the most satisfactory method, bearing in mind that we were not allowed to use the spoilers. I was keen  to try this but had soon discovered that unless  maximum altitude was attained on the launch it was not possible. I found that if the stick was pulled back on the stop as soon as the winch was started and kept hard back during the launch I was soon attaining average launch altitudes of  well over 700 feet which enabled me to perform figures-of-eight on each approach, and once excelled myself with one and a half.

We had been warned to expect simulated cable-breaks on the launch. This involved the Instructor pulling the cable release at the appropriate moment, which I imagine eased his boredom. It was quite exciting when it eventually happened as you had to instinctively shove the stick forward to avoid the dreaded Hammerhead stall and pull the cable release to ensure that you were not trailing a length of broken cable. While doing this you had to check  your altimeter to determine whether to land ahead, perform a lazy 'S' or complete the circuit. There were laid-down procedures depending on altitude following the 'break' which were similar to those for adjusting height on approach. All this had to be memorised and woe betide the pupil that forgot. It was all quite hectic but satisfying when you got it right.

We had to complete a minimum of twenty launches before going solo and I had achieved eighteen by lunchtime. After lunch I was accosted by the fearsome F/O Ross,  the other 'A' Flight Instructor, who had been assigned to give me two check circuits. This worthy had the demeanour of a Gestapo officer and was held in awe by all the cadets. I had considered myself extremely fortunate not to have been one of his pupils as I had heard the most terrible verbal abuse, some of which might well have been richly deserved, issuing from the rear cockpit of the other 'A' Flight T.31 as it passed overhead. Consequently I was somewhat apprehensive when I heard the dreaded words, 'Attrell, stop messing about lad. Two circuits please!' With a sense of foreboding I climbed aboard, performed the necessary cockpit checks and issued the orders to initiate the launch.

The expected 'cable break' did not occur and I managed two reasonable circuits and landings without adverse comment from the rear seat. On  being towed back to dispersal I was preparing to vacate the cockpit when to my surprise a re-assuring voice in my left ear said, 'Right, off you go lad, three left-hand circuits when you're ready. You'll be OK. Don't do anything silly.' This from the man who could reduce you to a quivering jelly with a withering look. His bark must have been worse than his bite. I couldn't believe my luck and after he had vacated the rear seat and secured his harness I had the cable attached and was away before he could change his mind.

They say that you never forget your first solo. I have certainly never forgotten mine. The realisation that you are in charge of your own destiny is impossible to describe, although similar to the feeling you get after passing your driving test. No nagging voice from behind and no criticism of the slightest error. Of course, there had never been any doubt that I would do it, such is the confidence of youth. OK, so it was no Spitfire, but I was in sole command of a RAF aircraft for several glorious minutes.

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1959 was a good year for me as a couple of months later I was selected for a supersonic flight in a Hunter T.7 trainer but that's another story.

Woderful story.. thanks    My head's still at that field.

I think we might need a, "Tales From the Logbook"  section.

And yeah.. I'm kind of partial to 1959 too (year of my birth).

Hagar wrote on Dec 16^th, 2006 at 1:57pm:


I hope that one will be posted here someday...or was it already?

Hagar wrote on Dec 16^th, 2006 at 6:26pm:


You're in luck; I enjoy reminiscing. I don't care what anybody thinks...

But look here, mister; we're talking about a supersonic flight! I'm pretty sure nobody else here has done that. If nobody else here had ever sat on a flushing toilet inside a house, they'd be fascinated to read about that, too... it's all relative, you see.
To you, such a flight might be a regular snooze, but to us, it would be something exciting to hear about!