did not inspect the
PSI gardens. I afterwards wondered how Herr Goldbaum would
have described someone more important than God, had he done so.

Monday, July 5th, was perfect weather. I flew two sorties, each of an hour's duration. The first was solo handling practice at all altitudes, with aerobatics,
followed by authorised low flying. The second was, in effect, a low flying, map
reading, cross-country. It was a necessary exercise, little practised in the past, and
certainly not in a
Sabre. I had to be very quick and accurate reading the map when
flying at over 500 knots at only 300 feet above the ground. Such is necessary when
doing intruder work, the
Squadron's secondary role. Flying a constant height above
ground, looking out for flocks of birds, masts and tall buildings, while following an
accurate track checked against the map, kept me extremely busy and demanded a
high level of concentration. It was possibly more demanding, and certainly more
hazardous, than close formation flying in rough air. Anyone on the ground would
not have heard my approach. The first intimation of my presence would have been a
sudden horrendous overhead noise when, on looking up they would see my classic
Sabre low-level trail of black smoke disappearing, from their point of view, at treetop
height. None of us could have been very popular on such exercises.

My Log Book tells me that on the following Thursday I flew as No.2 in a fourship
formation at dusk in a tail chase. The
Squadron record is at variance with this
but I well remember this tail chase in increasing darkness. It grew dark to the point
when I was following the light from the leader's jet pipe before we switched on our
navigation lights. We landed in total darkness. The sortie was recorded as night
flying of one hour's duration.