Air Training Corps

 

In 1939 when I was thirteen and a half years old, Britain declared war on Germany.  Anticipating a long war someone thought up the bright idea of starting up cadet training services for teenagers so that when they became old enough to join the services they'd be trained to the point of being combat ready. 

 

Nearby at the town of Crail was the shore-based #785 Training Squadron, Royal Naval Air Station, H.M.S. Jackdaw. Waid Academy formed, Waid Flight #964 Air Training Corps and I signed up as soon as I became old enough and eligible to join.  As I knew a bit about navigation and was proficient in morse code, thanks to my brother Noel, I was assigned to train to became a Navigator/Radio Operator.  Very shortly I was measured and issued a cadet Air Force blue uniform. (This was the first time in my life that I wore long trousers.) Training was ground school three nights a week using a Waid Academy classroom at Anstruther  and on Saturdays and Sundays flying out from Crail on attack training torpedo dropping maneuvers in the Firth of Forth. 

 

The airplanes that we flew in were open cockpit, biplane, Fairey Swordfish and Albacore torpedo bombers. The Swordfish had a tubular steel frame that was entirely covered with doped fabric. The enclosed cockpit Albacore that was supposed to replace the Swordfish but never did was an all aluminum aircraft. 

 

The war did have its lighter moments. Not long after I enrolled in the Air Training Corps I was fitted for a clip on chest pack parachute harness at the Crail Royal Naval Air Station (RNAS) base HMS Jackdaw.  A pretty young WREN did the honours of fitting me. After she'd pulled all of the adjusting straps to the very end of their adjustments there was still quite a gap between the straps and my crotch. Whoever was the designer of the harness never figured that they would also be worn by boys.  She looked at me and I gave her a questioning, “What now?” look and she just lost her professional cool. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.  To solve the problem a Navy rating produced a punching tool to make extra holes in the webbing. We all had a good laugh as the young lady made further adjustments to snug me in and inked my name on the webbing.

 

HMS Jackdaw had a great dance band and several very fine vocalists who sang the songs of the time. Saturday nights were dance nights at the NAAFI canteen which was in a large Nissen hut. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" and we cadets had a standing invitation to attend. What great nights these were. My favourite music is still that of the sentimental 40's. There will never be another era or time of camaraderie like the 40's.

 

The pilots who flew the old Swordfish, Stringbags as they were nicknamed, were just too in love with the old birds to give them up. The fabric that covered the entire fuselage of the Swordfish was either Grade A cotton or linen. This was made rigid and waterproof by the application of several coats of nitrate or butyrate dope which filled the weave and caused the fabric to shrink  until it became drum taut. When the doping was completed a coating  of silver/aluminium paint was applied to shield the fabric from the harmful effect of the sun's ultra violet rays. Last of all the exterior finish paint job was applied.  Those who worked in the fabric/dope/paint  hangar couldn't help but get higher than a kite.  The  fabric was attached to the framework of the wings, fuselage and the horizontal and vertical tail surfaces by long needles, reinforcing tape and thick cotton thread.  This thick cotton thread or rather thin string was the derivation of the loving term Stringbag.  To recover a wing, the struts and  the tensioning wires were first detached then the sewn fabric envelope that looked like a bag or a sock was pulled over the framework of the wing  from the tip to the root for the fitting and the doping to begin. There are others who think that "Stringbag" has something to do with a vintage Victorian lady's handbag. So be it.

 

Any time there was a choice of which airplane to fly, pilots always took the Swordfish. Antiquated as it was the Swordfish was a revered airplane and during the war years, with skilled pilots, it gave a good accounting of itself. The enclosed cockpit Albacore was technically a better airplane and had one way radio communication but there just was something about the helmet and goggles, open cockpit Swordfish with the wind whistling in the stranded steel strut wires between the wings and the never to be forgotten smell of doped fabric and hot engine oil. With seat of the pants "feel" and the varying sound of the wind in the stranded steel strut wires the Swordfish could be safely taken off, flown, dived and landed without an airspeed indicator. (The Albacore had streamlined solid roll formed monel struts between the wings that considerably reduced the sound and the drag factors.)

 

The fixed pitch propeller Fairey Swordfish first entered service in 1936 and while ancient by today's standards for it's day it was state of the art and the latest technology. Fairey designed the Albacore to replace the Swordfish but the Swordfish ended up outliving the Albacore.

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The Swordfish had no means of communicating by radio of any kind so the job of navigator was of the utmost importance when at sea and out of sight of everything. Keeping track of the aircraft's position and where  the carrier would be on returning was done by dead reckoning navigation plotting on a chart. On this there was no room for error. Dead reckoning was well named. If the navigator didn't keep an accurate track of the aircraft's position the plane could easily run out of fuel and end up crashing into the sea. Several did. The amount of fuel remaining was always a prime concern.  For every ounce of weight lifted fuel is required to be consumed. With this a fact most all Swordfish were flown minus and without the weight of the ineffective machine gun that fired to the rear, ammunition for the gun or the gunner.  A number of Swordfish were shot down as they flew in to the line of fire of enemy ships  but few, if any, Swordfish were shot down by bullets from pursuing  enemy aircraft. One of the Swordfish's attributes was that it could fly at very low speed. The evasive action was to do a hammerhead stall, stand the aircraft straight up on it's tail so that the attacking aircraft had no option but to shoot right on by. With a half decent headwind, landings could be accomplished in a very short distance. The need for carrier deck length was an absolute minimum. The same went for take-offs. With a good headwind, just a few feet and these great old birds became airborne.

 

A fault the Swordfish had  was the antiquated method of starting the 9 cylinder, radial, air cooled Bristol Pegasus engine. The Swordfish had no electrical push button starting system.  The engine had to be started manually. It boggles the mind that the aircraft that would be sent out to attack the world's most powerful battleship, the Bismarck, had but one engine that could only be started by winding an external hand crank, like an old vintage car. Shades of Don Quixote tilting at windmills !  To start the engine of the Swordfish, a cranking handle  had to be inserted into a hole in the left side of the airplane just aft of the engine and in front of the wing.  By a system of a chain and sprockets, (similar to that used on a simple bicycle) just behind the cowling, an inertia flywheel and clutch  were coupled up to the engine to enable it to be turned over. The cranking handle was  wound  by two ground crew persons. One man stood on the wheel struts and the other stood between the wings.  In the winter time when the engine was cold and the oil was thick it took all the brawn of two strong men to crank start the engine. If the engine didn't start the first time two different ground crew men were needed to make the next attempt.  When the engine coughed and started there were usually loud bangs and a huge cloud of smoke and yes, cheers. Once started and after 5 minutes of warm-up time the engine idled and ticked over just as smooth as could be.  The "Peggy"  was a very good smooth running, vibration free and  extremely reliable engine. By contrast the Bristol Taurus II radial engine in the Albacore was disliked for it's unpredictability which is why Swordfish were flying when Albacores often were not--if the pilots had a choice. One improvement the Albacore had over the Swordfish was that it had an engine starting device that looked like a built in Verey pistol that contained a ten gauge shotgun shell. One Albacore crashed into the sea at West bay, Earlsferry as a result of the engine losing power at the end of it's dive. The injured pilot was rescued. A few weeks later a fishing boat snagged the plane in it's trawl net. The wreckage was hoisted on board and deposited on to the end of the west pier at the Anstruther harbour, alongside of the lighthouse. From the wreckage I used a hack saw to remove one of the  monel stainless steel wing tensioning struts.  I used the threaded end to make a dirk for my kilt outfit. I also salvaged it's P.8. compass, Serial No 37554.D. and it's morse code key.  The dirk, the compass and the key have adorned my desk ever since. 

 

 

Each practice attack consisted of three flights of three airplanes taking off and climbing to 5,000 feet above the runway. This took about 20 minutes.  In formation, the nine aircraft then flew on a heading of 234 degrees True for 6 minutes along the 10 miles of shoreline of the Firth of Forth to the Elie Lighthouse.  On our approach, the target ship, the "Brigadier", that was usually in the bay and right off Earlsferry, would then go to full speed ahead while it made  an evasive, zigzag course. Each aircraft in turn followed the leader as the pilot peeled off and in a spiral dive descended almost vertically to between 50 and 80 feet above the sea.   At 90 knots airspeed, fly straight and level, zero in on the target ship, allow for "offset", release the torpedo, break away and watch as it runs straight and true.  It was always fascinating to watch the wake of the torpedo as it converged with the track of the speeding ship to be at the right place at the right time. A fully loaded 18 inch torpedo weighed almost 2000 pounds.  Practice  torpedoes weighed about 1600 pounds. When dropped at a distance of 1000 yards it takes 1 minute and 11 seconds for the torpedo which travels at 25 knots  to cross the projected track of the ship. In that time the target ship if traveling at 18 knots will have traveled 717 yards. With variable times and distances like these and the ship possibly making an evasive maneuver it took great pilot skill to make a successful attack. Torpedoes were set to run at a depth such that they'd pass under the keel of the target ship.  In all during my training I was along on about 50 practice drops and all of these were in good weather. With the warhead of the torpedo empty the torpedoes floated at the end of their run. A converted trawler fishing boat snared and winched them on to it's deck and took them to the Anstruther harbor where they were unloaded on to the pier to be taken back to Crail for reuse.

 

The target ship had a dual purpose. It also was used to train navy recruit anti-aircraft gunners. The gunners used camera guns to record the results of their "shooting down" of the "attacking" airplanes.  It was sobering to say the least when back at the  base we'd get to see the film of their target practice.

 

The pilot that I liked to fly with best was Lt. Commander Maund.  He was a self starter if ever there was one. He made things happen. When he was at Crail he was actually on shore leave from aircraft carrier duty. This wasn't exactly leave as  he chose to spend his leave as the leader of flights of 8 in-training  aircraft.  When he was truly off duty for the day he had a de Havilland Tiger Moth that he liked to fly. On several occasions he took me along with him.  He showed me how to loop, roll and do several other aerobatic maneuvers in it. ( Later in life flying, building and maintaining small airplanes became my lifelong hobby)

 

 In addition to being a friendly, outgoing person, Lieutenant Commander Maund was a born leader.  He was purposeful, tactful, skillful, knowledgeable and a courageous man.  Had he had no gold stripes at all, signifying his rank, he would have had the same respect from all who knew him.  He had great charisma.  In today's words, "He was the right stuff."  At that time his father was captain of the aircraft carrier, Ark Royal. 

 

In adverse conditions it's nothing short of miraculous that in foul weather and with an armed 2000 pound torpedo slung underneath that the crews of these airplanes in open, exposed to the weather, cockpits ever made it off the wind blown salt spray covered deck of the heaving carrier, found  their target or that they ever found their way back to and were able to land on their carrier. In addition to all of that sometimes they had to do it in the dark of night.

 

To the British the battleship HMS Hood represented Right, Might, Empire and the keeper of world peace. When the untried German battleship Bismarck broke out into the Atlantic by way of the Denmark Strait we thought well the Hood will take care of this upstart in short order. Imagine our dismay when the Bismarck at extreme long range and in rough sea conditions and in the space of only a few minutes sent the Hood to the bottom. Only 3 of the Hood's crew of 1418 were saved.  We regarded our seasoned battleship The Hood to be invincible and unsinkable. We stood taller just thinking about it and now unbelievably it was gone. If the Germans could do this what could they not do.

This is when Winston Churchill showed what he was made of. In just three words he growled his order to the navy, "Sink the Bismarck". 

 

On the evening of May 26, 1941  an attack on the fleeing  German battleship Bismarck by courageous Swordfish pilots, flying off from the pitching deck of the carrier Ark Royal, just before dark and in horrrrible weather, launched a torpedo attack that knocked out the steering gear of the Bismarck. Had this one hit not been made it's more than likely that the Bismarck under cover of darkness would have escaped by making it to the port of  Brest in France where it was heading.  Next morning, May 27th, when our battleships caught up and arrived on the scene and found that the Bismarck could only steer in a circle the big guns of the fleet pulverized the Bismarck sending it to the bottom, just three days after the sinking of our battleship, HMS Hood.   The score was more than evened.  Had the Bismarck escaped to sink everything in sight that moved in the Atlantic the war may have ended much sooner than it did ! 

 

Later that same year, on November 14, 1941, I was again flying with Lt. Commander Maund.  On that morning as we landed back at Crail  a WREN approached the Swordfish as we were climbing out and handed the Lieutenant a message.  The admiralty regrets to inform you that today the Ark Royal has been torpedoed and sunk near Gibraltar in the Mediterranean.  As of this time, your father is unaccounted for. Such is war. As it turned out all of the crew of the Ark Royal except one survived the sinking.

 

The  news  of the loss of the Ark Royal and possibly  his father stunned the lieutenant but it  only increased his determination.  The last flight we'd been on was supposed to have been his last for the day but instead of calling it quits he lead training flight after training flight until it was well after dark. That was the kind of man he was. 

 

At that time I was 15 years old and still a cadet.