Something really frightening suddenly occurred to me. We had no knowledge of what lay beneath us. It was most likely to be the English Channel, which would mean death by drowning as we had no buoyancy equipment of any kind. I had assumed he ( the pilot ) knew where we were but he didn't seem to emit any such assurance. ( to me anyway ) How much in the way of navigational aids had been removed before making this plane available to us was unknown. Several minutes must have passed by giving me more time than I would have liked to consider my fate.
WOW !!! ---- suddenly an explosion of dazzling blue sky occurred all around us. I called out " We're saved " or something somewhat silly like that. The pilot, turning his head back towards me said, in a somewhat deadpan voice, "Just look down below & tell me if you can see about a mile or so of nice smooth concrete."
( This plane requires almost this distance PLUS a drogue to slow down & stop safely ).
There was of course, no such thing. What there was, I believe, was the South Downs, only a few hundred feet below & comprising stone walls, hillocks, trees, rough ground of every kind, flat or sloping & off in all directions. We also had an almost negligible amount of fuel remaining, which with the ground becoming almost a blur as it became closer all the time gave almost no time for a choice of where to put down. We also had to maintain a flying speed of about 200 kph. This allows us to glide - believe it or not ! The fuel tanks suspended from each wing were offloaded - not much else to chuck out. I closed all pipes inside my cockpit. We had to maintain a suitable speed. Too slow & we'd drop a wing & cartwheel, too fast & we'd start to bounce & are likely to disintegrate. An engine cut-out ( flame - out ) & we'd dig a hole for ourselves. I am concious of the pilot having slackened - off undercarriage control, this will help soften fuselage & ground contact on impact as the wheels etc. bed-in to the ground. The pilot has a mass of functions to perform, I help when possible ( although not an everyday 'chore'. ) Ultimately we come to rest, bits hanging off & a trail behind.
Make a rapid exit, putting some distance between ourselves & plane. The pilot has done extremely well. ( couldn't have done much better myself ! ). Grab each other for a brief moment. The pilot then makes for a group of cottages in the distance. I am instructed to remain ' on guard '.
Another opportunity to use the phrase ' shaken not stirred '
I look back at the plane, showing substantial damage & leaking ' here & there.'
I feel sad. It had been quite a beautiful object.
Traffic arrives. Someone with four wheels to return me to the squadron.
Ah Well ! Tomorrow is another day, although unlikely to be 'quite ' so entertaining !!
WOW !!! ---- suddenly an explosion of dazzling blue sky occurred all around us. I called out " We're saved " or something somewhat silly like that. The pilot, turning his head back towards me said, in a somewhat deadpan voice, "Just look down below & tell me if you can see about a mile or so of nice smooth concrete."
( This plane requires almost this distance PLUS a drogue to slow down & stop safely ).
There was of course, no such thing. What there was, I believe, was the South Downs, only a few hundred feet below & comprising stone walls, hillocks, trees, rough ground of every kind, flat or sloping & off in all directions. We also had an almost negligible amount of fuel remaining, which with the ground becoming almost a blur as it became closer all the time gave almost no time for a choice of where to put down. We also had to maintain a flying speed of about 200 kph. This allows us to glide - believe it or not ! The fuel tanks suspended from each wing were offloaded - not much else to chuck out. I closed all pipes inside my cockpit. We had to maintain a suitable speed. Too slow & we'd drop a wing & cartwheel, too fast & we'd start to bounce & are likely to disintegrate. An engine cut-out ( flame - out ) & we'd dig a hole for ourselves. I am concious of the pilot having slackened - off undercarriage control, this will help soften fuselage & ground contact on impact as the wheels etc. bed-in to the ground. The pilot has a mass of functions to perform, I help when possible ( although not an everyday 'chore'. ) Ultimately we come to rest, bits hanging off & a trail behind.
Make a rapid exit, putting some distance between ourselves & plane. The pilot has done extremely well. ( couldn't have done much better myself ! ). Grab each other for a brief moment. The pilot then makes for a group of cottages in the distance. I am instructed to remain ' on guard '.
Another opportunity to use the phrase ' shaken not stirred '
I look back at the plane, showing substantial damage & leaking ' here & there.'
I feel sad. It had been quite a beautiful object.
Traffic arrives. Someone with four wheels to return me to the squadron.
Ah Well ! Tomorrow is another day, although unlikely to be 'quite ' so entertaining !!
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