things a bit wrong, were seen to fly past the side of the light, missing the tree tops by mere inches. Night cross-country flights could be very confusing but there were bonuses. At Rugby the GEC and British Thompson Houston factories both had very large illuminated signs clearly visible for quite some distance from the air. Our airfield pundit continuously flashed out WM in red, and waterways (rivers and canals) showed up well when looking towards the moon. These were very useful aids. At no time were we ever under radar control. In fact, the word radar was, in my recollection, never used during the course and we were told nothing about it.
During one of these night flying sessions I had landed and taxied back for another take-off. There were two more aircraft ahead of me which took off in turn. Then came an R/T call telling me to hold because an aircraft was in the circuit and was due to land. I sat there watching events, waiting my turn. The aircraft landing had failed to lower its undercarriage. I could hear the scraping and noise above that of my engines, and I've never before seen such a shower of sparks as it ground to a halt. It did not catch fire and no-one was injured. I'd better explain that an Oxford's main wheels protruded slightly below the engine nacelles when fully retracted. In that position, with landing wheels up, the propellors would bend but the wheels would allow the machine to roll forward for quite a distance. That was the end of flying for the night. While taxying back to dispersal I heard, over the R/T, the call to the two aircraft that had just taken off, instructing them to check their fuel states. This done, and there being sufficient, they were ordered to stooge around and stay airborne at endurance speed until first light, by which time the runway would be cleared and checked for them to land.19 The alternative was for them to divert to Shawbury, the nearest Master Airfield. On going to bed I could hear these two planes crossing and re-crossing the airfield, doubtless keeping more people than me awake that night.
Later in the course our Officer training had reached the point when we were instructed to assist the Station Orderly Officer with his duties. These were more time consuming than onerous. My turn came and somehow, although I suppose I should have known better, I had a brush with Mr Williams, the SWO.20 Being still only an Acting Pilot Officer this was a matter for corrective action and I was reported to the Station Adjutant, by whom I was duly disciplined and, as punishment, was given three more Orderly Officer Duties to carry out. Whilst this hurt me intensely at the time because people on such duties were not allowed to fly, it cannot have done me any real harm, but it worried me that I might have accumulated enough black marks on my record to prevent me passing the course.
The next time I flew I was determined to enjoy myself. It was a day with some quite heavy rain-bearing cumulus cloud about. It was fun flying round these cloud pillars, but then I spotted an arch of clear air below me under a large cloud and decided to dive through it. I misjudged the distance and my speed, and it took a seeming age to get to it by which time the arch had filled with heavy rain. I had committed myself and, with engines screaming, the lumbering old Oxford was reaching its maximum speed of 230 knots and juddering like mad, I just had to level off. Now in heavy rain, water started pouring in and running down the instrument panel. Then suddenly I found myself on instruments in dense cloud. Fortunately the cloud cleared almost as soon as I went into it. The rain stopped. I collected my wits after having frightened myself, steadied down, and made my way back to base.
It may have been with my recent series of Orderly Officer duties in mind, or it may have been because quite a percentage of students who had begun the course had had the chop, for there were markedly fewer of us than when we arrived, that I
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19 Endurance speed was 115 mph (not knots) IAS (Indicated Air Speed).
20 Station Warrant Officer. The most senior NCO on the camp. Usually a position held by a man of vast RAF experience who would command the respect of all personnel.
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