Library Reference Number: 133
That Weekend!
In the early fifties, while in the RAFVR, I was fortunate to be one of many who kept in flying practice with No 5 Reserve Flying School, based at RAF Castle Bromwich, on the eastern outskirts of Birmingham. Each year, we were required to carry out two weeks of continuous training; this year, there was a snag. I hoped to attend the Farnborough air show but there was a clash of dates. The staff were a helpful bunch so I had no qualms in asking if I might be excused on the middle Sunday. To my surprise, and dismay, the answer was distinctly negative.
The first few days of continuous training went well; this was a friendly place and the weather had been fine. On Friday, I had completed my duty and was waiting for an old pal and fellow Scot, to make his usual late appearance in the circuit. As I lay on the grass, just below the control tower, I thought how lucky I was to be there in the sunshine, rather than at my usual place of work. In WW2, Castle Bromwich had been the largest source of Spitfires; Lancasters had been built there and Wellingtons repaired. Now, in contrast, there were no aircraft more warlike than Ansons, Chipmunks and a few terribly-tired Tiger Moths. Most of our kites had landed and taxied in. Apart from a hum of traffic from the nearby roadway, there was little to disturb the tranquility. All was well.
Suddenly, my pleasant thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an approaching jet aircraft. In those days, in that vicinity, jets were rather rare. I got to my feet and was surprised to see a Venom night fighter, at about a thousand feet, on the downwind leg of the circuit, and was even more surprised when the undercarriage went down. Almost at once, the Venom began a 180 degree turn and was now heading for a grass runway on our airfield, neither of which were designed with the jet age in mind! On that approach, a line of poplar trees reached for the sky, forming an obstruction most certainly to be avoided. It looked as if the Venom was not going to make it. Suddenly, the fighter made a very steep left turn, there was a bright flash then the aircraft disappeared into a fairly extensive grassy area used as some sort of storage yard.
I ran to the main gate, not far from the control tower in this case, dodged across the busy dual carriageway of Chester Road, then was confronted by a high steel fence. Finding a small gap, I continued in the direction in which the Venom had disappeared. On the way, I tried to avoid four 20 mm cannons and various other bits and pieces of wreckage strewn around. Then I came upon the main wreck - a sorry sight. Both tail booms and both wings were broken and fuel was gushing out. Most of the nose of the aircraft had disappeared; a lot of wreckage had piled up in the right hand seat. The pilot's seat looked reasonably intact but there was no sign of the pilot. Then, on the far side of the wreck, I spotted a man in painter's overalls. I shouted to ask if he had seen the pilot. His answer, if any, was drowned out by shouting behind me, from the crew of the crash tender, followed by a deluge of foam. I beat a hasty retreat to a safer place. Thanks to good fortune and the crash crew, there was no fire.
Shortly afterwards, other people came on the scene, then flash bulbs were being fired. The Press had arrived! Almost at once, civilian police appeared and made the photographers expose the films in their cameras. Politely, I asked the Inspector- in charge, if he could tell me what was going on. He explained that the Venom was a night fighter, not yet in service; it was a "Restricted" aircraft so unauthorised photography was not permitted. The photographers dispersed, presumably in disgust, and, in due course, things quietened down. I wandered back to the airfield where I explained to my pal what had been going on. Later, we left to sample some of the night life of Birmingham. When we returned, fairly late, it sounded as if a party was still in full swing in the Mess. We stuck our heads round a door and I was astonished to see the painter, still in his white overalls, in the midst of things! We were too confused to enquire further and drifted off to our pits.
Next morning, we got all the gen. The Venom, a D.H.112, was on a flight from Hatfield, Hertfordshire, to Hawarden, near Chester, when a serious engine problem developed. The civilian test pilot (the man with the white overalls!), tried to make an emergency landing at our airfield but ran out of height on the final approach. As he turned left, the port wing made contact with electrical cables -which accounted for the bright flash. He had landed in very long grass, laced with various building materials, then stepped from the wreck almost unhurt That afternoon, a Dove aircraft delivered several boffins who were to investigate the accident.
Next day, we flew as usual. The wreckage of the Venom was very visible from the air. Just after completion of our duties, we were stunned to learn of a tragic accident at Farnborough. Legendary test pilot, John Derry, and his flight -test observer, Anthony Richards, had been flying a D.H.110 which had disintegrated in mid-air. They and about thirty others had been killed; about sixty more had been injured. That weekend had been a bad one for British aviation. In the evening, the Dove returned to Castle Bromwich, picked up the boffins then flew them to Farnborough.
I was not sorry to have missed that air show. In the next few years, I was able to attend several of the Farnborough shows. Fortunately, these went according to plan.
RAF Castle Bromwich has disappeared to become Castle Vale, a large housing estate. The area's long connection with aviation is remembered in most of the street names, which include Farnborough Road and, perhaps surprisingly, several Scottish names such as Drem Croft, Dyce Croft, Montrose Drive and Prestwick, Stornaway and Turnhouse Roads.
Editor's Footnotes relating to author of above story - In 2004, Dr Stewart Houston offered Gordon Catto a flight in the back seat of the Chipmunk that Gordon had flown about fifty years earlier. This very generous offer was accepted immediately!!
The following is an extract from University of Glasgow Newsletter (issue 252). This was written by Professor Dugald Cameron, and the event was held to celebrate the Centenary of Powered Flight.
"At 10.35am on a dull, cloudy day at Glasgow Airport, 17 December 2003, the Lord Provost of the City of Glasgow, Liz Cameron unveiled a plaque in the VIP lounge commemorating Percy Pilcher, the UK's first aviator. He was then an assistant in Glasgow University's Department of Naval Architecture. A very special guest was John Cruickshank VC, the last remaining air VC who drove down from Aberdeen to be with us. Sadly, his gallant friend and colleague Bill Reid VC, graduate of GU passed away in November 2002."
"We were celebrating the Wright brothers achievement one hundred years previously near Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, USA, by remembering our own pioneer flyer Percy Pilcher, who flew his gliders from fields above Cardross in the Summer of 1895 - the first repeated, piloted, heavier than - air- flights in the UK."
"The occasion was used to launch the book, 'From Pilcher to the Planets', published by the University. It is an account of aspects of Glasgow and the West of Scotland's contribution to aviation and has been written by Professor Dugald Cameron along with Professor Roderick Galbraith and Dr Douglas Thomson of the University's Department of Aerospace Engineering from whom it can be obtained at £10-00, plus post and packing. It is intended that any surplus will be given to the Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund."
"Joining in the celebrations were Dr Stewart Houston and Dr Eric Gillies of the Department of Aerospace Engineering who flew up from Prestwick in a Chipmunk along with Steve Maric in the Pioneer Flying Group's SAL Bulldog; both types having previously served with UGSAS. It was discovered that one of our other guests, Gordon Catto of the 602 (City of Glasgow) Squadron Museum Association, had flown this particular Chipmunk fifty one years ago when it was with No 5 Reserve Flying School at Castle Bromwich. The Air Squadron's Tutors now sport the Grey Douglas markings formerly used by 602."
from an extract of University of Glasgow Newsletter, (issue 252) written by Professor Dugald Cameron.