John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham The Aviation Legend
John Golley
Airlife England
Copyright First
by
©
1999 John Golley
Published in the
Airlife Publishing
UK in
1999
Ltd
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication
Data
A catalogue record for this book is
available
ISBN
1
from the
British Library
84037 059 9
All rights reserved.
No
part of this
book may be reproduced
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the Publisher in writing. Edited by
Bill
Gunston,
OBE, FRAeS
Typeset by Phoenix Typesetting, Ilkley, West Yorkshire Printed by Biddies Ltd, Guildford and King's Lynn.
Airlife Publishing 101
Ltd
Longden Road, Shrewsbury, SY3 9EB England
E-mail:
[email protected]
Website: www.airlifebooks.com
or
Dedication This book is dedicated to the late Alastair Simpson, who founded Airlife Publishing Ltd. Over the years his books have made an invaluable contribution in recording the history and development of aviation and the personalities involved, in both war and peace.
Acknowledgements To Air Vice-Marshal Freddie Hurrell, who generated the project, and to Raymond Baxter who wrote the foreword. Both John Cunningham and I
Jimmy Rawnsley
are indebted to the late
(John's navigator)
and the
Bob Wright, who wrote Night Fighter. This excellent book, recently reprinted by Crecy Publishing Ltd, recorded John Cunningham's
late
partnership with Jimmy Rawnsley throughout their service with the Royal Auxiliary Air Force. As John never kept a diary and is most economical with words, Jimmy's narrative proved invaluable in prompting John's recollections of the days when he became famous as 'Cat's Eyes' Cunningham. special thanks to the writer John Maynard (ex de Havilland) for his support and help throughout. Maynard's potted biography, published in Aeroplane magazine, provided a concise framework of Cunningham's life. Furthermore, Maynard's recollections of life at Hatfield, and the impact of triumph and disaster on the community, added depth to the momentous events which took place. Test pilots John Wilson and Desmond Penrose, who flew with John, provided splendid back-up both from the cockpit and the lifestyle during their association with John Cunningham. Also, I would like to thank Roland 'Bee' Beamont (ex Chief Test Pilot of British Aerospace) andJohn Gibson (Test Pilot) for their help. Amongst others who contributed were Mick Oakey (Editor Aeroplane), Dennis Baldry (photographs), Ian Hamilton (computer work), and Chris Oldfield who got me there 'on time'. I would like to thank the Archivist of Whitgift School, F.H.G. Percy, and Mike Ramsden, who both provided particularly valuable
A
insights. I
would
particularly like to thank Peter Coles
and
his associates at
biography of John Cunningham. Previously, they handled my biography of the jet pioneer Sir Frank Whittle, and working with them is always a pleasure and a
Airlife for their expertise in creating this fine official
satisfying experience. Finally, the
most
my
vital
support in recounting the John Cunningham
old friend and colleague Bill Gunston, whose technical expertise and highly professional editing needs no amplification! story
came from
By
the
same author
The Big Drop
Day of the Typhoon Hurricanes over Murmansk The
Whittle - The True Story (paperback, Genesis of the Jet)
So
Few
So
Many
Freedom
to
Forget (Battle of Britain Play w.
Aircrew Unlimited
Tony
Attard)
Foreword
No
pilot has
made
a
more
spectacular and significant contribution
to the aviation history of his time than John It is
logical sense.
true that his date of birth
He was born
is
relevant,
Cunningham.
though not in the
into his time, learning to fly with the
astro-
Royal
Auxiliary Air Force in 1935 - perfect for an active operational career from the outbreak of the Second World War. So were a great many others. But few went on to become an 'ace', achieve the rank of Group Captain and win the DSO and 2 Bars, DFC and Bar and be awarded the
CBE. Cunningham, to his embarrassment, became a popular whose name appeared in headlines in the Press, which had honoured him with the colourful soubriquet of 'Cat's Eyes'. That he scored unprecedented success against the hated German night bombers during the darkest period of the War endeared him literally to the longIn fact John
national hero
That he owed his success not so much to his and still secret, airborne radar was neither here nor there. To disguise the facts, his optical discernment was attributed to, amongst other factors, eating raw carrots. As one whose only 'Below Average' rating in my Service Record was for Night Vision, I consumed raw carrots by the ton, but to no avail! Thus by 1945 John Cunningham had achieved the cliche status of 'a legend in his own lifetime'. So had other RAF wartime pilots of outstanding gallantry and success. But few of them went on to become leading test pilots at the very frontiers of development and challenge in the dawn of the jet- age. And only one was to go down in history as the world's first Certificated Captain of a commercial passenger jet aircraft. Even this was not enough. As Chief Test Pilot at de Havilland his qualities of leadership, which had blossomed during the War, inspired and guided the team which emerged from disaster to ultimate triumph. Furthermore, to this day, he is acknowledged by his peers to have been amongst the finest display pilots of large aircraft ever to perform at Farnborough and elsewhere. Can there be more? Indeed there is. His prowess as a communicator - he is among the most articulate men with whom I have ever conversed suffering British Public.
night- vision as to the new,
vin
Foreword enabled him to become an extremely successful salesman for his company, while his diplomacy proved a match for even the most challenging of customers - the Chinese. One final tribute - and I will not spare your blushes, old friend - a more modest, charming and delightful man it has never been my privilege to meet. Your story is the stuff of greatness, and this book is a worthy telling of a noble
tale.
Raymond Baxter
IX
1
Contents Introduction
xi
1
Middle Wallop
1
2
Early Days and a Taste for Flying
7
3
Groundwork and Early Testing
19
War
4
Tense Peace, Phoney
5
The Magic Box
33
6
Breakthrough
39
27
7
Partnership
44
8
By Royal Command
52
9
Not Carrots but Cathodes
56
10
Duel of Champions
60
1
Desk-Bound
64
12
Back on Ops
69
13
The Mosquito
72
14
83
15
Summer 1943 New Enemy Tactics
16
Winding Down
93
17
Farewell Party
99
18
Conflict
Over
103
89
19
Back with the Family
109
20
119
22
From Sonic Bangs to Tragedy The Jet Revolution The Birth of the Comet
23
Empire Days
145
24
The Gathering Storm
153
21
25
Reawakening
26
Trident's
27
Held
28
The
in
Long Incubation
Awe
Chinese Episode - 1972-79
123
127
165 1
72
183
189
Contents 29 30
John Wilson Remembers The Reluctant Hero
.
.
.
209 218
Bibliography
Appendix
1
Appendix 2
200
German Aircraft Destroyed by John Cunningham 1940-44 Flight-testing
Record
219 220 222
Index
XI
Introduction growth from TheCentury remarkable phenomenon.
nothing of the aviation industry during the 20th is a Aviation has changed both the way we live and the world in which we live. It has shrunk the globe, and made possible journeys that our ancestors never even imagined. Two world wars during the first half of the Century made the sky a battleground, and command of the air became an essential ingredient towards achieving victory. These wars greatly accelerated the growth of the industry, and during the Second World War the emergence of jet aircraft symbolised a revolution in aviation which has no parallel in history. The conquest of the air both in war and peace attracted a special breed of men and women, whose lives became totally dedicated to flying. One such man is John Cunningham, whose flying career spanned 45 years, during which he became an aviation legend. Opening the door to gain insight into a legendary character is a fascinating business, particularly as John is a most reluctant hero whose natural charm and self-effacing manner make him exceedingly reticent about his achievements, and more willing to talk about those of his associates. He has never previously collaborated with an author to write his own story, which is both dramatic and inspiring. It was Air ViceMarshal Freddie Hurrell, formerly Director of Appeals at the RAF Benevolent Fund, who persuaded him that a biography was essential during his lifetime. Freddie pointed out that such a book would avoid inaccuracies that might occur from those who rewrite history, and that he owed it to the many people who supported and admired him.
During World War II the media branded him 'Cat's-eyes Cunningham' because of his famed exploits as a night-fighter pilot, together with his partner Jimmy Rawnsley who operated the 'Magic Box' (also called 'Magic Mirror' at the time) which guided them to intercept their targets. The miracle of airborne radar had arrived, and the Air Ministry's somewhat naive efforts to conceal its existence from the enemy are part of the story. This is set against a background of total blackout below, and night skies punctured with bursting shells and probing searchlights. 'Cat's-eyes'
Cunningham became xn
a household
name throughout
One
Middle Wallop in the day John Cunningham and radar-operator Jimmy Rawnsley had tested their radar equipment against a friendly aircraft as a target. This was to be Jimmy's first operational experi-
Earlier
ence in the new Bristol Beaufighter equipped with the latest 'Magic Box'. Naturally he was keyed-up, and determined to position John close
enough behind an enemy bomber for John to see the glow from its engines. For him this was a personal challenge to prove that, having completed
his radar course,
he could master the technique.
The Battle of Britain had come and gone, but in its wake there still hung the threat of an imminent invasion. During the long dark autumn nights, the Germans had been launching major bombing offensives, coming over in their hundreds. They took off from the airfields across Northern France, such as Caen, Toul-Rozieres, Cambrai, Beaumont-le-Roger, and Norville. In early November 1940 they changed tactics by directing their attacks against Coventry, Birmingham, Wolverhampton and other Midlands cities. Previously they had made the short run across the Strait of Dover heading for the moonlit Thames estuary to concentrate on the giant conurbation of London. Targets in the Midlands and the North, however, involved a longer sea crossing, followed by a deep penetration into blacked-out and hostile England. Middle Wallop in Hampshire was perfectly positioned to enable the Beaufighters to make early contacts over the sea and the South Coast area. At first glance they appeared an unlikely pair to become a lethal team -John, a boyish-looking young man of 24 with blue eyes and fair hair and a slim but strong physique, while diminutive Jimmy, incredibly old at 37, was only five feet four inches (1.6 m) tall and weighed a mere seven and a half stone (47.6 kg). The freezing night air hit them as they walked out of the wooden hut towards their Beaufighter R-Robert parked on the north-east corner of the grass airfield. Usually the ground was wet and soggy, but on this night frost had made it hard and firm. There were beds in the hut on which to relax when they were on standby, and slit trenches to take cover from enemy attacks. The airfield had been bombed on several occasions, and had played a significant role by both day and night during the recent Battle of Britain. Arras, Achiet
1
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Behind them the ground rose steeply, climbing towards the old hill fortress of Danebury where the sentinels of ancient Britain and of the invading Romans had kept watch over the plain. The surrounding hills of the Hampshire-Wiltshire border, topped with clumps of trees, rolled
away in undulating curves across the horizon. John was highly conscious of the fact that the night-fighter operation still had to make its mark, and give German bomber crews something to think about when they took off. The previous night fighter, the Blenheim, had been incapable of doing the job required of it, and there had been numerous problems with its primitive radar system. On 15 November 1940, Sir Archibald Sinclair, the Secretary of State for Air, had written to Prime Minister Churchill that, The result of last night's battle was thoroughly unsatisfactory. Three hundred German aircraft converged on a previously known target. Round that target were five times as many guns per head of population as there are around London. One hundred British fighters were airborne. Yet the only German casualty is claimed neither by the fighters nor by the guns'. Now, in 1941, they had a much more powerful fighter and the latest airborne radar, AI (Air Interception) Mk IV, backed up by a new type of ground control radar station. John had been involved in night-fighter development since pre-war days, and it had been an uphill struggle with few indications of a major breakthrough. Instinctively he knew that this would not come suddenly, but now at last, they had the aircraft and the technical improvements to give them a chance of meeting the challenge. National and global publicity had been focused on the Battle of Britain, and made day-fighter pilots into heroes. Everybody wanted to climb into the skies and duel in the sun. Victory in this battle engendered a surge of confidence in the nation's ability to stand and fight alone. Little was said or heard about the Royal Air Force's night fighters. As the bombing attacks increased, the night skies were continually punctured by probing searchlights and bursting shells, but the defences seemed ineffective. There was no evidence that the British night fighters could shoot down any of the raiding bombers. On the night of 12 January, Beaufighter R-Robert from No 604 Auxiliary Squadron stood waiting for action. She looked a formidable machine, with two pugnacious 1,600 horsepower Bristol Hercules engines jutting ahead of a tough airframe housing the devastating forward-firing armament of four 20-mm Hispano cannons; later six machine-guns were added. The 'Beau' had the power, the speed, the radar and the field of vision from the cockpit which combined to make a classic night fighter. In his flying overalls and brown muffler, John pulled down his belly hatch and climbed up the integral ladder into the fuselage and then up the sloping floor to the cockpit in the nose. Jimmy's entrance was further it
Middle Wallop back, and he climbed in and wriggled into his seat where the 'Magic Box' was suspended from the low roof behind a Perspex dome. He sat with his back to John, facing the tail, and could look directly into the rubber
two cathode-ray tubes. With only a slight turn of his head, he could keep a visual watch over the tail. Having completed their checks, John taxied out ready for take-off. On that particular night for some reason they were to be controlled by the ground radar station at Tangmere, outside Chichester in Sussex, instead of their usual station at Sopley, near Bournemouth. The Tangmere Controller's call sign was 'Boffin', while John's was 'Blazer visor studying the
Two
Four'.
John opened up the engines, the Beaufighter gathered speed and Jimmy, as usual, tensed up. Despite the number of hours he had spent in the
he never could relax on
air,
hand, never
take-off.
He
trusted John's pilot skills
made no
difference to his tension. John, on the other allowed anything to interfere with his concentration.
implicitly, but
it
Jimmy's tension eased only
as the
ground dropped away.
After taking off, John climbed into cloud heading eastward, and at about 3,000 feet (914 m) they emerged into a clear moonlit sky. He called up the GCI (Ground Controlled Interception) station at Tangmere, and 'Boffin', the Controller, turned them south out over the Channel. As they crossed the coast the cloud suddenly stopped short like a broken iceberg over the chalk cliffs known as the Seven Sisters. As the 'Beau' moved out across the silvered moonlit waters of the Channel, the cliffs retreated into
background haze. Suddenly the radio came to life. Boffin called, 'Hallo, Blazer Two Four, orbit orbit. There is a bandit coming in. Angels eleven' (1 1,000 feet). John immediately opened up the throttles as he responded 'OK, Boffin orbiting'. Over the intercom he said to Jimmy, 'I'm going up to fifteen. We'd better have a bit of height in hand'. The sleeve-valve engines took on a deeper booming as they climbed through the freezing sky. They now had some trade, and were in business, alert and standing by for instructions from Boffin. Soon the compass courses to direct them towards the target began to flow in: 'One five zero turn starboard on to two one zero turn port on to zero six zero Although Jimmy had his eyes on the cathode-ray tubes of his AI Mk IV 'Magic Box', he realised that they had been turned aside to allow the German bomber to pass. Now he could see that they were banking round in pursuit and heading back towards tht South Coast. In contrast to his utterly cool pilot, his adrenalin flowed as he was anxious to prove that he the
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
could successfully operate the
new
.
.
set.
weapon' came the command from Boffin. This meant 'Switch on your radar', showing that they were closing in on their target. Hitherto this command had made some of the WAAFs (Women's 'Flash your
•.)
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Auxiliary Air Force) working the.GCI system blush a little. They blushed even more when they received the discouraging reply 'My weapon is bent', which was quite often the case with the notoriously unreliable
AI
Mk III RAF night-fighters had been using.
Jimmy
adjusted his tuning control for about the twentieth time and reported to John saying, 'No joy yet'. John had the Beau at almost full power, closing on the enemy at well over 300 mph (483 km/h), and felt the bandit couldn't be very far ahead. Jimmy held his breath and watched
from an aerial target ahead) which would enable him to track his target. Suddenly he saw a bulge forming, and it gradually became a definite blip. He gave it a few more seconds and then, moistening his lips, found his voice: 'Contact at [a range of] 12,000 feet', he told John, 'Slightly port and well below'. From now on it was all up to him. He was determined not to lose 'sight' of the bandit and, if he got it right, to bring the Beau dead astern of the target. 'Check port', he said, meaning 'turn slightly to the left'. The blip moved across the display as John turned, and then centred again as John straightened out, having executed a neat side-step. The bandit was now dead ahead at a range of 10,000 feet (3 km), but slightly intently for a blip (the reflection
above.
John could see that if they dived they would soon overshoot the target. Accordingly, while letting the nose fall below the horizon, he throttled back the engines and dropped the wheels to act as airbrakes. The Beau continued to close on the bandit, whilst descending at a controlled rate. Suddenly Jimmy realised
that the blip
was
drifting to the left again, so
He had been
concentrating so hard on manoeuvres that he had forgotten to keep an eye on their altitude, until John said, 'On course. I'm still losing height, by the way'. Jimmy confidently replied, 'OK, level out now. Range 8,000 dead ahead and
they executed another side-step. these
.
level
.
.
.
.
.
increase speed again'.
The Hercules engines stopped making popping noises and regained their booming asjohn opened the throttles. The range closed rapidly, but then Jimmy saw the blip again drifting away to the left. He said, 'Turn port ten degrees'. Range was now 5,000, and the blip was getting larger and
clearer, but then
corrected,
and
'Starboard
five'.
it
starting drifting to the right.
said 'Turn starboard five degrees'.
He had
over-
John acknowledged
things were going well, but he realised it would be a good idea to give John as complete a picture as possible of what was happening. 'Range three thousand. Throttle back a bit. It's dead ahead and slightly above'. He watched the blip coming down the vertical central trace as fifteen still ahead the range decreased. 'Range two thousand degrees above. Throttle right back. Range fifteen hundred ...'Jimmy began to be really worried that they would overshoot.
Jimmy
felt
.
.
.
.
.
.
Middle Wallop one thousand 'Twelve hundred still ahead fifteen degrees above. Nine hundred .'John had cut the throttles right back, and the engines were again spluttering. Now really big, the blip sat at the bottom .
.
.
.
.
of the trace, indicating
hovered
there.
Then
it
back. 'Increase speed again
.
.
.
.
.
.
minimum range. For a frightening moment it slowly climbed the trace again, as the Beau fell
thirty degrees above'. At such every word of guidance, whilst straining his eyes to search the dark sky ahead. Suddenly John said 'OK, I can see it!' The blip started moving down again. The miracle had happened! At long last the system had worked! Jimmy continued to read off the range until the blip disappeared inside minimum range. John said 'It's all right, you can take a look now'. Close ahead but considerably higher was a dark shadow, blotting out the stars
close range John
had
.
.
.
It's still
there
.
.
.
to react instantly to
and silhouetted against the night sky. John climbed until they were some 300 feet (90 m) beneath the enemy. The shadow grew a tail, and a nose and engines formed a recognisable outline. 'What would you say it is?' John asked. Jimmy guessed it to be a Heinkel He 111: 'It's got the right sweep to the wings and the Heinie elliptical tail'.
For several minutes they flew below the enemy bomber, while John checked everything, switched the guns from SAFE to FIRE and adjusted the brilliance of his gunsight. Everything had gone deathly quiet, but even John was breathing a little more heavily. After what seemed an age but was probably only a few seconds John pulled back gently on the yoke and lifted the Beau until their fin was almost in the Heinkel's slipstream. There was no doubt about the enemy's identity. It had an almost perfectly streamlined fuselage sitting on a very broad wing, and at the back was an elliptical tail. Underneath was the 'bathtub' which would contain a gunner, who was clearly not paying attention. John pulled back slightly more. The black shape came down until it was at their own level, and the Beau rocked in the bomber's slipstream. His work done, Jimmy could spend all his time looking ahead to see what was happening - and to be ready to reload the cannon with massive 60-round drums from the racks on the side of the fuselage. Suddenly all Hell was let loose as John opened fire. The four Hispanos thudded and shook the entire aircraft, and Jimmy could see the cracks round the entrance hatches outlined in the bright light from the muzzle flames. The din was indescribable, and acrid cordite smoke began to fill
Then the noise stopped. The Heinkel just flew on. John said 'The guns have
the fuselage.
stopped'. Jimmy
checked and said 'The magazines aren't empty'. When John pressed the button again, the cannon fired, and Jimmy saw the flashes all over the Heinkel's starboard engine. Then the guns fell silent again. Still the
John bomber
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
flew on, seemingly untroubled by by its hammering, oblivious m) astern in bright moonlight.
of the Beaufighter barely 100 yds (90
Though nothing could be done about the bright flames from the Hispano muzzles, RAF night fighters never used tracer ammunition, and most of their rounds were ball (solid) or AP (armour-piercing). However, about every fourth round there was an HE (high-explosive), so their impacts on the target could only be seen at night as tiny white flashes. John's second burst resulted in most of the flashes being on the target's starboard engine.
Jimmy discovered that the pneumatic firing system had failed. Desperately he looked for the cause, but suddenly the Beau went into a tight turn. John said 'Now the wretched man's shooting back at us'. Red tracer was curling back at them. At first it seemed to crawl away from the Heinkel, before suddenly whipping past over the Beau's starboard wing. Quickly John formated down-Moon from the Heinkel and watched, while Jimmy tried to the restore the guns' lost air pressure. He suddenly realised that that he was crouching like a boxer, trying to make himself a smaller target. By this time the Heinkel had slowed down and turned back for France, steadily losing height. It seemed amazing that it could still fly. Frustrated by the failure of the cannon air supply, at least John and Jimmy could take comfort from the fact that the enemy bomber had been prevented from reaching its target. But the real significance of the encounter lay in the fact that Jimmy had correctly guided his pilot to the point where he could open fire on an enemy aircraft. The system had been proved to work, and John and Jimmy had created a partnership which was to last to the
end of the War.
Early Days and a Taste for Flying over 190 mph, even though it had only a D.H. Gipsy Major engine of 140 hp. At the same time in 1935 that John joined D.H., a friend of the family who was an Auxiliary Air Force pilot, was about to retire from part-time service with No 604 Squadron, one of the three Auxiliary Air Force squadrons based at Hendon. He suggested that John might like to apply for the vacancy and learn to fly. John was naturally eager to qualify as a pilot, and he was thrilled at the idea of joining the squadron. The friend got him an interview with the Commanding Officer of 604 Squadron and, after a medical, he was accepted. This was to change the course of his life, and his career in the aviation industry. Now he would be taught to fly and join the elite band of Auxiliary pilots, who came from University Air Squadrons, the professions, business and commerce. But young John had not pursued a career in aviation with the sole objective of becoming a pilot. He had not been motivated, as had many others, by the flying VCs of the First World War, such as Captain Albert Ball, Billy Bishop, and McCudden. He didn't go to the cinema to become entranced by war in the air and its heroes. His obsession had been purely with aeroplanes, and he believed that the aviation industry had a great future, in which he wanted a role. He was now a member of a one-parent family and was very close to his mother, who was keen for him to join 604 Squadron because she regarded it as an opportunity not to be missed. For him it was something completely new and challenging. The squadron had previously been flying Westland Wapitis, but in 1935 it was being re-equipped with Hawker Demon two-seat fighter biplanes. They were adorned with the squadron's bold red and yellow markings. Most of the week-end flyers were several years older than John, and were a flamboyant fraternity of well-heeled characters. The CO, Squadron Leader Gabriel, first took John up in a Westland Wapiti, and later he did his training with Flight Lieutenant Hugh David, his flying instructor, on Avro 504Ns. John went
on 15 March 1936. and ran it for nearly a year, replacing it with an open two-seat Morris car from the 1920s, which he bought for £5 from a friend. He only managed short visits home, mostly late on Sunday and departing very early the next morning. Such an early start enabled him to get to Hatfield in about an hour, travelling from Croydon right through the centre of London and then via the upper Finchley Road, and on to the newly-built Barnet by-pass. His reading consisted mainly of studying technical papers and books. He and the other students would occasionally pile into a car to see a good film at the St. Albans solo
on
aircraft J8541
He had bought
cinema. 'Working morning, because
a motorcycle
life at
we
Hatfield',
he
said, 'was
started at half-past eight'.
at 7.30.
13
gentlemen's hours in the The factory clocked on
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
summer of 1936 he was awarded his RAF wings. 'They didn't a lot to me', he recalled. 'I had gone solo in March, and had done a lot of flying since then'. This was a rather cool and strange reaction, but In the
mean
and character. He expressed no emotion achieving the coveted emblem. The vast majority of students regarded 'wings day' as a big event in their lives, when they wore their wings for the first time. For him it was a natural progression that he would 'put up' his wings, but his words revealed that he disliked anything ostentatious. In no way were they spoken in an arrogant manner, but as a statement of fact. He had been living in the flat adjoining the Hatfield factory for a year or more, when he was sent to do engine training in the old Stag Lane factory, at Edgware. This meant that he would have to start work at halfpast seven, and the journey from Hatfield would make life difficult. Accordingly, he managed to get a permanent room in the Officers' Mess on the aerodrome at Hendon, little over a mile from the factory. He still had to make an early start, but managed to get a pot of tea from the batman before leaving. Then it was a question of heading for the works' tea-and-buns trolley to satisfy the 'inner man'. Although John returned to Hatfield after completing his work on engines, he continued to live in the Mess, and never went back to the flat. In 1937 a partnership emerged between John Cunningham and Jimmy Rawnsley which was to last for eight action-packed years, and make them into national heroes as the most successful RAF night-fighter crew of World War II. It began when Jimmy became his air gunner, and commented that, 'What with John's blue eyes and his crinkly fair hair, his downy pink cheeks and slim, boyish figure, it was not altogether surprising that this young Pilot Officer should be nicknamed "Boy" by his fellow- officers. But the name did not stick. Young as he was, there was a certain quiet determination in his manner, and a steadfastness in the gaze of those blue eyes that soon made them think of him as more than entirely indicative of his style
whatsoever
at
just a boy'.
He was a
won the respect of the men who serviced the aircraft. Here who asked shrewd questions, and whose criticisms were
quickly pilot
always constructive. This young Pilot Officer was no flying-club weekender to be turned aside with smooth answers, or a bit of technical double-talk.
Jimmy Rawnsley was
at that
time an electrical engineer.
ACH/GD
He was
orig-
(aircraft-hand, inally accepted to serve with No 604 as an general duties), and his work consisted of sweeping out hangars, cleaning oil trays and pushing aircraft around. He had to attend the aerodrome for two evenings a week to attend every week-end, and Town lectures. He'd been christened Cecil Frederick, but he had the foresight to realise that those names would not go down well with the lower ranks.
HQ
14
Groundwork and Early lation for the air
gunners
like Jimmy.
Testing
Otherwise they would have been
out of a job.
Few people could have been John Cunningham. His
better prepared to take an aircraft to
war
technical and test-flying background, combined with his RAF experience, enabled him to handle aircraft in a professional manner under the most difficult circumstances. Furthermore, he had the temperament to cope with the vagaries of war. He had even 'baled out', but one piece in the jigsaw of survival was quite beyond his control, and that was to have 'Lady Luck' flying with him! Sitting around and waiting for something to happen during their last few days at Hendon before war was declared was a frustrating business. From the aerodrome they could see an endless succession of trains steaming north, packed with children being evacuated from London. The Thirties' era was rapidly coming to a close, having kicked off in a depression - in 1932 there were some three million unemployed - and
than
finishing-up with a world war.
The decade had had
its
moments, with the
King abdicating, the burning of London's huge Crystal Palace, Jesse Owens winning four gold medals at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, children waving Union Jacks on Empire days, political upheaval, the Munich crisis and the finality of a war which seemed increasingly inevitable. It was a little over twenty years since the end of the First World War, and people during the decade had longed for stability and the 'good life'. The Thirties had a style of living in which magazines, comics, toys and games, radio, cinema, ballroom dancing, day trips, sport and entertainment were part of everyday life. Slimming became a craze for women, as did white shirts and dazzling teeth for men. Cigarette smoking symbolised glamour and style, with advertising slogans such as, 'Ten minutes to go and mine's a De Reszke Minor' - 'Craven A cigarettes will not affect your throat' and 'Players Please'. The motor-car market was expanding rapidly, with Ford 8s at £100 and Austin Sevens at £120; later in the decade driving tests were made compulsory, and Belisha-beacon pedestrian street crossings were installed. Aware of the growing shadow of war, the British people began making the best of life while they could. Dramatic changes were taking place in aviation during this period. The R.101 disaster in October 1930 had made people lose faith in airships. Gradually biplanes were giving way to monoplanes, and fabric to metal. Civil aviation was expanding, although technical progress was hampered because of lack of finance. Government policy strove to make civil aviation 'fly by itself. The public, however, were becoming more airminded, with air shows flourishing, records being broken, and the rapid growth of flying clubs. In 1936 war clouds began to gather, when Germany repudiated the Locarno Treaty, followed by the occupation and remilitarisation of the Rhineland, while Italian troops occupied Abyssinia. It became 25
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
more pilots. myopic attiand implement an enormously expanded
increasingly obvious that urgent action was required to train
At
last
tude,
the Treasury dispensed with their pinch-penny and
and agreed to programme.
ratify
training
On
30 July 1936 the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve was formed
as part of the
RAF.
Reservists trained as
weekend
flyers
with
civil flying
and many others were built as part of an expansion scheme. The Treasury agreed that volunteers should be paid a retaining fee of about £40, plus ten shillings (50p) per day flying pay. Arrangements were made for civilian flying schools to provide three months ab initio' (primary) training, while more advanced training at RAF Service Flying Training Schools was cut to six months. The civilian scheme proved to be a great success, indirectly bringing back into the Service many experienced instructors who had previously served with the Royal Air Force. clubs at airfields near large towns,
(
26
Four
Tense Peace, Phoney
War
On
12 April 1937 a serving RAF officer became the first person ever to start up a turbojet engine. His name was Frank Whittle, and his invention, which has no parallel in history, was to change the face of aviation and affect the lives of almost every human being. Even though it was ignored for seven years, Whittle's invention was to give the country a lead of about three years in jet technology in the immediate post-war period. However, the birth of the turbojet came at a time
when
German
was so serious that the aviation industry was at Government. The Ministry was preoccupied with approved designs, the Shadow Factory scheme (assembly of standard aircraft at several different sites) and eight-gun fighter production. Modern monoplane metal bombers, such as the Blenheim, Whitley, Wellington and Hampden, were at the production stage, and bigger fourengined machines were about to fly. In early 1937 the Treasury more than doubled the Air Estimates, from <£50.1 million to £137.6 million, at last providing a basis for further expansion and development, particularly in aircraft production. Germany's Lufiwaffe was already geared-up for rapid growth, and Great Britain was ill-equipped to meet the challenge. During 1937/8 the stage was set for the British aircraft industry to manufacture nothing but military and naval aircraft until the end of the war. At this time there were two revolutionary concepts awaiting Ministry support. Air Ministry contracts for Frank Whittle's W.l turbojet engine, and for the Gloster/Whittle E. 28/39 jet-engine testbed, were awarded in 1939. This aircraft was first flown by P.E.G. 'Gerry' Sayer from RAF Cranwell on 15 May 1941. In October of that year full information was handed over to the USA, putting America instantly into the jet age. The second revolutionary concept was conceived by Captain de Havilland and his team. The success of the D.H.88 Comet in winning the MacRobertson Air Race in November 1934 - 11,000 miles from Mildenhall to Melbourne in 71 hours - encouraged D.H. to propose a fast airliner incorporating the Comet's clean aerodynamic lines. However, the Government was not prepared to sponsor airliner development at that time. Although the company was among those invited to the
threat
the disposal of the
27
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
tender for military contracts, the Captain had little interest in Air Ministry He thought that the officials and staff officers concerned were totally out of touch with modern thinking. He regarded the bombers that they envisaged, with big crews, most of the men manning gun turrets, as 'flying battleships'. What he proposed was a clean aeroplane with a crew of only two, using exceptional speed for defence. This philosophy generated an inbuilt resistance amongst the Air Staff, which was hardly surprising in view of their totally different concept of a bomber force. Nobody in any position of authority was prepared even to spend time considering the radical de Havilland proposal. Being a shrewd businessman, the Captain continued to manufacture civil aircraft, and during the 1930s the company's turnover went from just over £600,000 in 1933/4 to £5 million in 1938/9 - doubling its turnover during the final proposals.
year.
Apart from his business acumen the Captain was very patriotic by were his team, and various discussions took place regarding the Air Ministry specification P. 13/36 for 'a twin-engined medium bomber for worldwide use'. Hatfield were doing all they could to find the most effective contribution which they could make to rearmament. In nature, as
1938, during the Munich crisis, they again came to the firm conclusion most useful aircraft that they could contribute was the radical idea
that the for a
bomber in which defensive gun turrets were eliminated in exchange
for speed.
No headway was made until September 1939, when Germany invaded Poland and Britain declared war. The project was then again put forward, and - to the astonishment of many - it received the powerful backing of Air Marshal Sir Wilfred Freeman, the Air Member for Development and Production. Despite fierce opposition from certain members of the Air Council, the company was given the go-ahead on 29 December 1939 to proceed with their radical unarmed-bomber formula. During that year Hatfield had manufactured 150 Oxford twin-engined trainers to augment the Airspeed company's own output, as well as 660 Tiger Moths, 130 pilotless radio-controlled Queen Bees, the 71 Moth Minors, and the first few Flamingos. This considerable output was two-and-a-half times as many aircraft as had been produced in 1938! Both the Tiger Moth and the Oxford were used extensively for training throughout the War, well over 8,000 of each being produced. Both played a major training role in the Empire Air Training Scheme (later, The Commonwealth Air Training Plan), which was a rare example of British strategic vision actually carried into effect. By late 1944, this gigantic plan had trained 131,553 aircrew in Canada, 23,262 in Australia, 16,857 in South Africa, 8,235 in Southern Rhodesia, 3,891 in New Zealand, and over 13,000 pilots in the USA. In early October 1939 the 'unarmed-bomber project' design team was 28
Tense Peace, Phoney
War
moved from
Hatfield to Salisbury Hall, near London Colney, five miles This old country mansion was surrounded by a moat, south-west. to the and had a historical and romantic charm about it quite out of touch with
and construction of a modern war machine. There, in a more and for secrecy and safety from air attack, the team gave birth to W4050, the prototype D.H.98 Mosquito. It was doubly radical: it was not only an unarmed bomber but it was made of wood! The Captain recalled that, 'The design staff worked in the house, and sheds were erected in the grounds for assembling the prototype. These were ideal conditions, for we felt we were working in a small world of our own, with the minimum of interference. To watch a new design taking shape day by day is always absorbing and exciting. Only those with special permits were allowed to see the work in progress, and we were worried by fewer official visits than usual, although there was one unofficial one. Whether by accident or design - we never knew - a German spy was parachuted one night and landed nearby. He must have been inefficient at his job, because he was captured within a few hours, before he had even been able to collect any useful information. He was the design
tranquil atmosphere,
quickly disposed of in the usual way'.
Meanwhile, John Cunningham and his associates found themselves in accommodation when, in September 1939, 604 Squadron moved from Hendon to North Weald in Essex. Regular squadrons occupied the buildings on the other side of the airfield and were awaiting deployment, so it was a question of 'making the best of it'. Fortunately, the early autumn weather was good, but later it turned cold in the extreme. Neither the Blenheims nor their flying suits were heated. Long daytime shipping patrols up and down the North Sea, as far as the Humber estuary, and night patrols in bitterly cold weather, made life most uncomfortable! John recalled, 'As one climbed, the temperature inside the cockpit dropped rapidly. The air was searingly cold to breathe, and seemed to bite the nose and the eyes, tending to make the eyes stream, and one could even end up with ice on the inside of one's face-mask. No amount of clothing, no matter how many layers, seemed to stop the icy cold from tented
reaching the body underneath.
It
required considerable concentration to
awake and make sensible decisions.' The night patrols proved hazardous. Only a few squadron pilots had any appreciable amount of night-flying experience, and that was in peace-time under good weather conditions. Their Hawker Demons had been slow and stable machines, and flying from one brightly-lit area to stay
another presented few problems. In wartime, in the blackout, at night no landmarks, and wintry weather meant that one was flving
there were blind.
They had no homing beacons, no system of way in which they could be talked down on 29
no approach and
blind approach, and the final
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
They also had trouble with the blind flying instruments, and the was weak and had short range. In addition, the Blenheim's multi-
landing.
radio
faceted windscreen was cufficult to keep clean, and liable to reflect any glimmers of light. It was hardly surprising that John lost a number of his friends as they carried out night patrols. Stalling after take-off, or becoming disoriented while turning at low speeds close to the ground, were two common factors, and the accident rate continued to be alarmingly high.
On the credit side the Squadron was gaining experience in night flying, hard way! Nevertheless, lack of training, lack of experience and untried equipment led to many accidents, and even more close calls, and albeit the
was
it
at this
dreaded
good
in
as a
enemy came to be named 'the Newton's gravity. John's flying skills stood him and Jimmy was pleased to declare him 'as near Isaac-proof time that the deadliest
Isaac' after Isaac
stead,
man
could
be'.
had endless problems with instruments, and the North Sea patrols were intensely boring and very cold. On one occasion during a four-hour stint he got so stiff and cold that, in order to ease his frozen muscles, he moved over and sat in the navigator's tip-up seat, keeping a hand on the wheel! Brief night-flying tests (NFTs) were carried out almost every day to ensure that instruments worked. Then in early January 1940, when we used to escort the Thames/Humber coastal convoy, he was asked to do a circuit in a 'long-nosed' Blenheim IV, Serial number P4847, with something secret on board. He was told that the box inside was the sort of thing that was being developed to make possible an interception with another aeroplane. T thought at the time how bloody stupid it all sounded! But on 8 January I took a Sergeant Horder and an air gunner for an hour's flight without realising that I was carrying the
John
recalled that he
purpose-designed AI (Airborne Interception) radar set ever installed an aircraft'. In the middle of January 1940 the Squadron was moved to Northolt, a north-west suburb of London, which was under snow when they arrived. The word got around that they were going to be posted to a tropical climate. This sounded too good to be true, after the intense cold they had experienced over the North Sea. Visions of hot sunshine, sandy beaches and warm seas soon faded when they saw their Blenheims painted with civil registrations, and the blue-and-white Swastika insignia of Finland. The tropical posting rumour had been an eccentric security measure, and their job was to fly to Finland via Sweden - hence the civil registrations - and help the Finns fight the Russians. The Bristol company had sold some Blenheims to Finland earlier on, and 604 Squadron was to provide support operations. Just how the British version of the Blenheim would have performed in the depths of a Finnish winter is open to considerable doubt and speculation. John Cunningham remarked that first
in
30
The Magic Box A. A. Hall, a brilliant young 'boffin' who among a number of other things was a gunsight expert. Hall immediately got to work and redesigned the sight, which cured the rheostat problem. Thus did John make the acquaintance of the man who, as Sir Arnold Hall FRS, was in the 1960s to be his boss as Chairman and Managing Director of the vast Hawker Siddeley Group. During this period radar control from the ground had been on trial in the Middle Wallop sector for several months. John had become involved liaising with the 'boffins' concerned, keeping them up-to-date with the pilots' problems concerning the system they were developing, known simply as GCI (Ground Control of Interception). Gradually the system was able to direct a radar-equipped fighter near enough to an enemy bomber to make first a radar, then a visual contact, and the Beaufighter had the speed to overtake it. All the night-fighter Beaus were painted black, and were fitted with AI Mk IV, with a harpoon-like transmitter antenna on the nose and dipole receiver antennas ahead of the outer wings.
The Station Commander, Group Captain 'Bill' (later Air Chief Marshal Sir William) Elliot, took a special interest in 604 Squadron. 'He was a charming man with a great sense of humour', John said. 'He had served in the First World War, and had contacts in high places. Whenever we had a serious problem he would organise a meeting with the man at the top.' When they experienced stability problems in pitch with the new Beaufighter John was able to contact Sir Sholto Douglas directly, who told him to fly to Bristol immediately and get them to sort it out. 'They put weights on the stick to tighten the elevator control system.' John explained, 'but later they increased the dihedral on the tailplane to improve the longitudinal stability. The Blitz (the name given to sustained and heavy night attacks on London), had begun on 8 September 1940, when over 300 Londoners were killed and 1,337 seriously injured. The campaign rapidly gained with swarms of bombers flying up the Thames Estuary, but was only a prelude for what was to come. Full priority had been given to developing radar-equipped night fighters and the GCI control system. Air Marshal Sir Philip Joubert, the Assistant Chief of the Air Staff (Radar), made a habit of dropping in on 604 Squadron at Middle Wallop on his way to meet scientists, controllers, radar officers, and technical staff further south. Thus he was able to get first-hand and up-to-date information from all sides. John himself began to have regular meetings with Sholto Douglas to discuss problems, going up to Bentley Priory in the Squadron Humber car. During September and October 1940 he flew both Blenheims and Beaufighters. He said T remember the "Worth" patrol, as we called it. Worth Matravers is on the Dorset coast, and we flew night patrols along
momentum, this
37
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
a straight line to the east of it. Jimmy Rawnsley was still with me then in Blenheim turret. I also took up student operators from the AI school, as well as carrying out stability checks and other tests on the Beaufighter during that period. When the Battle of Britain was easing off we could do more uninterrupted day flying from Middle Wallop'. In early November the Luftwaffe changed tactics and began bombing cities across the Midlands and the North. The problems facing Fighter Command at this time were exceedingly serious, because Britain's cities were being systematically destroyed, and the Germans were flying over the country at night with virtual immunity from interception. Then on the night of 19/20 November John Cunningham, with John Phillipson as his radar operator, took off on a night patrol. Phillipson, a young, quiet, thoughtful type, was one of the ground radar men who had got out of France. There were enemy aircraft about, and John Cunningham was little later he saw a concentration vectored by GCI after one of them. of searchlights on the clouds and headed towards it. Phillipson was staring intently at his cathode-ray tubes, and suddenly he got a good firm contact. During the chase that followed he had problems with his microphone freezing up, but managed to clear it. Gradually he brought John into close range of the target. In the dark night ahead John caught a glimpse of a cluster of stars which seemed to be moving in a different direction from the others, and as he did so a dark shape formed around them, only to fragment as he looked directly at it. Climbing a little closer, a silhouette took shape. 'OK', he the
A
T can see it'. John skilfully manoeuvred his Beaufighter below the contact and there was no doubt that it was a Ju 88, and at long last he had come to grips with the enemy. He throttled back, keeping below the Ju 88 until he was well within range, and fired his cannons. The Junkers went down and finally exploded when it dived into the ground. For the first time, an AIequipped Beaufighter had justified the faith of all those who had worked called,
prove that the system worked, and that now there was a major role for the radar-equipped night-fighter. For the record, this interception had been preceded by two others, the first in July 1940, both achieved by F/O Ashfield flying a Blenheim from the Fighter Interception Unit, a research unit engaged in radar development. The splendid news was transmitted to Group Headquarters, Fighter Command, and to the Air Ministry. The initial optimism was fully justified when a few nights later the CO, Mike Anderson, bagged an He 111. At the time ofJohn's success there were only three crews in 604 Squadron who were operational on Beaufighters. More aircraft and further training of former Blenheim crews were badly needed. Even by the end of 1940 only six pilots and operators were available to allow the operational programme to proceed exclusively with Beaufighters.
for so long to
38
Six
Breakthrough November
1940 proved to be an exceptional month for John Cunningham. He had made his first 'kill' in the Beaufighter, and somewhat later he was asked to go and see Sir Charles Portal, Chief of the Air Staff. Sir Sholto Douglas told him to report to the Air Ministry as soon as possible, but gave him no indication of what it was all about. Feeling somewhat apprehensive, he was ushered in and was very relieved to learn that his former boss, Captain Geoffrey de Havilland,
had asked Portal if he could have John's services for a day to fly his new machine - the D.H.98 Mosquito - and make a judgment as to its suitability as a night fighter. This was a shrewd move on the Captain's part, and a bonus for John who had vaguely heard that his old company had
new
built a
high-speed
bomber
prototype.
On 25 November W4050, the prototype Mosquito, made its first flight hands of Geoffrey de Havilland Junior, with John Walker, the chief of the Engine Installation Department, taking the seat at his right side and
in the
slightly to the rear.
'The great
Captain de Havilland wrote:
moment had come
after
only eleven months from the
start
of
we had ever built - a speed record in itself. many watchers showed itself in various ways.
the design of the fastest aircraft
The
tense excitement of the
We
all tried to look and act normally, but I kept walking back to my car open and shut the door quite without reason, while others walked off a short way and returned more quickly. It was a great relief when I heard the engines opened up fully, with the plane held back by the wheel brakes. The engine roar continued as the brakes were suddenly released. The Mosquito gathered speed rapidly, the power-to-weight ratio being very high, and it lifted easily and was truly airborne on its first flight. As it continued its steady course, the pent-up feelings of awful anxiety gave way to relief and great hopes for
to
the future'.
On
John flew his Beaufighter to Hatfield, which for home. Shortly afterwards he got his first glimpse of the Mosquito. 'I was overjoyed', he said. It had a marvellous shape and was a typically elegant-looking D.H. aeroplane following the lines of 2 February 1941
him was
like returning
4
39
John the
D.H.
Albatross'.
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
He was the third pilot to fly it
Havilland was the second), and the very
first
(George Gibbins of de Service pilot to do so. 'It
was light on the controls" and lovely in the air', he said. 'Its performance matched its elegance, and I was convinced that it had great night-fighter potential'. The aircraft was shortly to be delivered to the Boscombe Down testing airfield for Service trials, as was customary for a prototype. A little while later Allen Wheeler at Boscombe, who was to conduct these trials, contacted John saying, 'You wretched young man. I should have been the first Service pilot to fly this aeroplane; now you've somehow beaten
me
to
it!'
Meanwhile Jimmy Rawnsley had been training to join the 'Magic Circle' as an AI operator. Naturally he wanted to fly withjohn, and recognised the challenge. Phillipson was standing in as John's operator, and getting air experience with the AI was not at all easy. Jimmy still had to continue with his job as air gunner in the remaining Blenheims that had turrets. His only chance of getting any practice in the air was to fly as third man during night-flying tests, and try and persuade the regular operator to let him 'have a go'. He kept on at John, trying to persuade him to take him along on his trips with Phillipson but, although sympathetic, John was quite firm about the way things should be done saying, 'All in good time. We must get the more experienced people operational first'. Jimmy was beginning to feel rather desperate as time went on, knowing that the Beaufighters would be flying on operations at any moment. He began spending a lot of his time in the Special Signals Section and the flight offices, shamelessly cadging to get information and experience. But it was not until the end of October that his turn came up. His first trip with an instructor left him thoroughly disheartened. The blip was faint, barely recognisable, and slid into the 'grass' at the bottom of the display. He found himself being as non-committal about the prospects for this new equipment as others had been. He had criticised them somewhat for such comments, but there was clearly some way yet to go in perfecting this equipment.
On Jimmy's second go, John Cunningham was flying the Blenheim with the imperturbable Bernard Cannon as Jimmy's instructor. Throughout the trip John was extremely patient, even when Jimmy lost the blip as he did time and again. Sitting down in the Mess with a pencil and paper Jimmy began working out what he was doing wrong. He discovered that he would have to stop the turn much sooner, and hold a converging course on the target which would prevent excessive weaving. He was off-duty that night and, satisfied with his conclusions, he went Andover
and relax. When he returned to the aerodrome, things were popping and he joined a scratch crew^is a gunner in an A-Flight Blenheim. They climbed through cloud and drizzle, but at higher altitude the conditions worsened. into
to see a film
40
Breakthrough plane began icing up severely, so the pilot descended. Blenheim went out of control. After being tossed up from side to side in the aircraft like a rag doll. Jimmv tried and down and unsuccessfully to get an answer from the pilot, and felt he had no other choice than to bale out. As he landed on the ground, he was astonished to see that the pilot had apparently regained control and was landing. Later Jimmy learned that the pilot had ordered him to bale out. but nothing was transmitted because the pilot's intercom plug had been pulled out. It says much for Jimmy's inner strength of character that he was undeterred by all these frustrations, and. despite the bale-out. still remained determined to team up with John in a Beaufighter. The Beaufighters were becoming operational and somehow he had to regain his position with John. He knew that there was no time to lose, and finally on 1 1 December 1940 he was sent off in one of the turretless Blenheims with a Sergeant Pilot on a patrol at 1 7,000 feet. During the trip he had his first big chance, when he had a hostile blip on the screen. Unfortunately the Heinkel concerned was coming head-on. and nearly wrote them off! They returned to base in gloomy silence, having had a
At 17,000 but
at
feet the
5,000
ft
the
contact and lost
it.
At this time the Luftwaffe was sending out special "pathfinder" Heinkels from Cherbourg to mark targets in the Midlands by creating fires. Their crack 'pathfinder' unit KGr. 100 was equipped with a special aid to blind bombing, using radio beams known as X-Gerdt. The mam bomber force then followed to 'stoke up the fires'. Thus the crack bomber crews were to become prime targets. They took off at dusk, making a landfall between The Needles, on the Isle of Wight, and the projecting promontory called Portland Bill. The defenders' idea was to send out early patrols and catch them out to sea. John, as usual, was in the thick of things, and on 2 3 December took off with Phillipson on one of these early patrols. Everything went according to plan. At Eve o'clock, when it was already getting dark on the ground, they spotted a Heinkel 1 1 1 coming in about fifty miles out to sea. At 15,000 feet, however, it was still daylight. John calmly bided his time stalking the pathfinder, and then, firing his cannons, hit him squarely in the bombload. The Heinkel blew" up like a gigantic firework display, with coloured flares and burning incendiaries showering out as the machine plummeted down in a near-vertical dive. Finally it disappeared through cloud with three parachute flares, which had fallen out. dramatically lighting the scene.
the Ju 88 on 20 November, had generated confidence those engaged in the night-fighting business. The longsuffering public, who were enduring constant bombing raids, needed some encouragement, and the fact that our night-fighter force was at last achieving results was to become the subject of satisfying Press comment.
John's
amongst
first kill,
all
41
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
morale. However, neither the public nor even most of those in the knew anything about the "magic box'. It had to be kept secret. So a legend was created* which boosted the public image of the night fighter, and effectively cloaked the secret. The Press were allowed to publish pictures ofJohn Cunningham - the first night-fighter ace - whose night vision was said to be so miraculous that it enabled him to see in the dark, as with the eyes of a cat. Inevitably, from then on he was known throughout the country as 'Cat's-eyes Cunningham'. It was also said that he ate lots of carrots, whose VitaminA content helped to maintain his supposed extraordinary night vision. Being singled out in such a manner was utterly indigestible for a man of rare personal qualities like John. He had worked alongside his Mike Anderson in partnership with their operators, and all those who had contributed to making the system work. Also, he was a purist, and the nickname 'Cat's-eyes' was a total misnomer. He looked upon the whole thing with disdain. Most young pilots would have lapped up the publicity and adulation, but notjohn. He was in company with those who knew the secret, and they regarded the 'Cat's-eyes' and carrots business as a joke or, more seriously, a deception. John had to take a lot of goodhumoured flak from his associates while remaining imperturbable - a laugh, a smile, and perhaps a dismissive comment such as, 'The whole thing is quite ridiculous, of course!' However, the branding of John as 'Cat's-eyes' Cunningham, the ace night fighter, achieved its object in making people aware that Great Britain actually did have a night-fighter force, which was rapidly becoming an increasing deterrent to German night bombers. The public at that time were under severe strain and ready to accept any news which gave them a lift, such as the Cat's-eyes and carrots explanation! The Germans must have known from their casualty figures - 604 Squadron destroyed 30 bombers in one two-month period - that the RAF was either to
lift
Services
CO
improving its techniques or had something special. However, that the
Cunningham
Press
comment had
it
appeared
effectively cloaked the secret
of the 'magic box'.
Two factors had altered the pattern of the RAF's night fighting in early The first was the way in which KGr. 100 operated, which permitted the Beaufighters to catch the pathfinders at dusk over the Channel. The second, and more important, factor was the introduction on the South 1941.
Coast of the local GCI stations. These enabled every night fighter to be vectored by a Controller, who could follow the entire course of an interception on a large cathode-ray tube, and who could direct the fighter until he had brought it within a mile or so behind the bomber.
The
usual
GCI
station for
604 Squadron was code-named
'Starlight'.
Sopley, east of Bournemouth, it consisted of a few wooden huts, scattered trucks, a caravan draped under a tarpaulin, and an
Located
at
42
Breakthrough antenna array slowly revolving on its base. In the centre of the Controller's desk was a very large cathode-ray tube, on the face of which was painted the neighbouring coastline of the sector. On this tube, called the PPI (Plan Position Indicator), all aircraft coming within range of the station produced small blips which automatically marked their position on the map. Airmen and airwomen studying the PPI gave readings to others at the far end of the caravan. These, in turn, plotted the tracks of the aircraft using navigation computers, to work out courses and speeds. Others, sitting in front of another cathode-ray tube, established the height of the aircraft.
To maintain
a complete coverage of the sky, the antenna outside
was
kept sweeping around in a full circle. By pressing a simple bell-push the Controller could simply stop or reverse the sweep, and direct the beam to any particular part of the sky. The piece de resistance of all this high technology emanated from a shack beneath. Inside were two airmen sitting on a contraption rather like a tandem bicycle, pedalling away to drive the heavy structure of wire mesh above them. Their pedalling was controlled by a buzzer operated from above. One buzz and they were 'off, and there was nothing for them to do except expend sheer physical energy - they could not see anything of the life-and-death struggle displayed in the room above. These anonymous and humble heroes were known as 'The Binders'.
43
Seven
Partnership the early weeks of 1941, through sheer persistence
and dedication,
InJimmy Rawnsley regained his partnership with John,
at last flying
.regularly as his radar operator. His long experience of flying with
John from the Hawker Demon had enabled him to understand John's manner and style in the air. John's voice was even more brisk and economical while flying, and there was never any casual conversation. John's patience and Jimmy's honesty were essential ingredients in establishing a natural co-ordination between them. Jimmy always admitted liability for his mistakes, and did his best to eradicate them, while some of the other operators covered up by giving pseudo-technical reasons. It was not until mid-February that Jimmy had his chance to become involved in the dusk trap to catch the pathfinder Heinkels of KGr. 100. Their Beaufighter headed out over Bournemouth in a clear, glowing evening sky to commence their patrol. The lakes and sandbanks of Poole Harbour reflected the rays of the dying Sun, while the chalk pinnacles of The Needles stood proudly upright, enveloped in the rising mist of encroaching darkness. They reached their patrol point at 15,000 feet, some 40 miles south of Lulworth, and began going up and down the line. Jimmy had his AI warmed up and tuned in, ready for a radar search, as towards the sunlit horizon the visibility was deceptive. Meanwhile, he looked intently towards the south-west, from where the Heinkels would come. Minutes later the Controller told them that the first bandit was on its way flying at 12,000 feet, and right on his track. Then began the cat-andmouse game in which John excelled. He dropped down to 11,500 feet into the misty obscurity that lay shorewards, leaving the enemy silhouetted against the luminous background. John made no move and continued on his beat as the minutes ticked by. Reaching the end of the beat he turned back. Then Jimmy suddenly spotted the German visually high on the port quarter, a tiny black speck still miles away but easily picked out against the light sky. When he reported the bandit's position, John turned the Beau smartly around on its wingtip. The Heinkel was coming fast, and was soon high overhead, and John kept vertically beneath it. He managed to stay in 44
Partnership concerned. He reflected on the fact that he had been much too high when he was vectored on to his last kill, but his tactic regarding 'returned empties' ensured that this extra height gave him the speed to overtake
them with a dive. A few weeks later it was suddenly announced that His Majesty The King was to pay them a visit, and there was a good deal of 'bull' (scrubbing and polishing) to present the right image. All aircrew had to parade outside one of the hangars to await the arrival of George VI. No. 604 certainly made an impact, because Charles Appleton had them parade in their 'best blue'. The aircrews of the other two units based at Middle Wallop turned out in their flying gear.
51
Eight
By Royal Command A
nxious eyes were on the clock as the early shades of dusk began creeping up Danebury Hill, and John was due for the first patrol A. JLwith Starlight. There was obviously not going to be much time to spare before take-off. Finally the Royal car rolled on to the tarmac, creating a stir of excitement. The King, accompanied by the Sir Sholto Douglas, walked over and had a few words with the pilots. When he got to the operators he hesitated, looking intently at some of the wingless chaps, and asked why they weren't wearing flying badges. Explanations were hurriedly given, that some were former air gunners who could still wear their 'AG' badge, whilst the remainder had commenced flying as radar operators. His Majesty was told that there was no flying badge to represent the new trade, and the King made some comments to Sholto. These were quickly passed down the official line in
/\
AOC
whispers, and the chap at the far end hastily scribbled
them
into a note-
book.
The King went on down the line and confronted Jimmy Rawnsley, asking him what his score was. Jimmy, somewhat taken-aback, hastily did some mental arithmetic and replied, 'Er-nine, Sir'. Whereupon, the King asked him to get another one tonight, especially for him. After the formalities, the King got back into his car and was driven off GCI unit at Sopley outside Bournemouth, to be shown
to Starlight, the
how
worked by Squadron Leader John 'Brownie' Brown, the Chief Controller. As soon as his car disappeared there was a mad rush to the Mess by 604 to get changed for action. Although a little behind time, the first patrols climbed into their Beaufighters and headed for the Channel at full power. When John reached patrol height and was in position, he throttled back and called Starlight. The King had arrived, and the Royal Command Performance was about to commence. Obligingly, the Luftwaffe had provided a bandit, and it was 'on with the show'. The bomber was far out over the English Channel, but heading in the direction of the Royal Party. Brownie had plenty of time to stage-manage the opening sequence. He vectored John on to 'three three zero', and then 'three one zerp'. Jimmy's eyes were glued to his cathode-ray displays, thankful for a clear picture, but there was no contact. Brownie it
52
By Royal Command gave John the final vector, three six zero (due North), and told him that he was now three miles behind the bandit. John opened up the engines, and the time was rapidly approaching for Beaufighter R-Robert to take centre-stage.
King peered over Brownie's glowing PPI tube. The bright time-trace rotated round the display like the spoke of a wheel, with a rigidly unvarying rhythm. With each rotation of the great antenna, and the corresponding sweep of the bright radial line on the display, the two little blobs of light, the players in this scene, came closer together as each crept slowly across the tube. Nothing broke the tense silence but an occasional crackle from the loudspeaker. Finally, the blobs seemed to merge into one. The audience In the darkened caravan at Starlight, the
shoulder
at the
waited, fascinated. for the moment having the leading role in this drama, was 'on when the blip appeared on his displays. The enemy bomber was two
Jimmy, cue'
It was all up to him, and he had to treat it any other interception, a mere routine job. His immediate task was
miles ahead and well below. like
to get
John
to ease off the difference in height, whilst bringing the
Beaufighter up behind the target. While they were still over the sea, at a range of about 4,000 feet, John caught sight of the bandit. Now it was John's turn to take centre stage. light was still too bright. The Moon was shining down behind them, and the sea shimmered silver. John considered that the bandit might spot them against the sea, so he decided not to go to straight in. The coastline was coming up, and inland the ground would be black and would hide them. Accordingly, he planned to wait until the bomber was over the
The
land.
The Controller suggested
to his
audience that they might
like to
go
where there was a chance of witnessing the interception. As they were going down the steps from the caravan, they could hear the sound outside,
of aircraft engines high in the southern sky.
The bandit played its part to perfection, seemingly oblivious of what was coming up behind. John positioned R- Robert just below and behind the target - a big black Heinkel. Slowly he pulled the Beau up until he was dead astern, and still slightly below. At that tense moment he brought the gunsight to bear, and still the Heinkel hadn't noticed. Then he pressed the firing button.
The crescendo
opened the final act as John pulled away, to avoid hurtling wreckage. A flickering glow lit the inside of the Heinkel, and - like most Heinkels when seriously hit - its wheels dropped down, of the guns
the hydraulics shot through. Flying alongside, the Beaufighter crew
watched the glow expand through the
skin, as engulfing flames took over. Mortally wounded, the He 1 1 1 shuddered, and curved over into a steepening dive, flames streaming behind. The curtain had come down on this
53
John Royal its
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Command Performance, leaving R- Robert to return home to have
twelfth Swastika painted
John needed some
on the
sle^ep after
tail fin.
the show, because he
had
to
go up
to
Command the
following morning to attend a conference. When he returned later that day he was told that his very special R-Robert, R2101, was buried deep in the ground. It had been ordered off with another crew in the early hours, and they had destroyed a Heinkel, but the return fire from one of the gunners had set an engine on fire, and the crew had eventually had to bale out. So R- Robert never had its thirteenth Swastika on the fin! The replacement, T4625, was one of the first aircraft to have C-type markings, with the white and yellow portions much narrower (as in the Mosquito photograph on p. 101). John had been awarded a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) in March, and after his hat-trick in April he added a DSO (Distinguished Service Order), while Jimmy got his (Distinguished Flying Medal). Weeks later Jimmy received a bar to his DFM, and he had just been promoted to Flight Sergeant when he was commissioned. John's attitude to these honours continued to be almost one of disinterest: 'Promotions and decorations were an achievement, but part of the job. They were nice to have, but didn't make any difference to me. I had survived so far, and was grateful for the recognition. Lots of people were being killed, and one could not look ahead. Of course, I was thankful to be alive, but mastering the use of radar was a whole-time occupation, and left one little time to think of one's career and decorations.' During May and June enemy night bombing raids slackened off Fighter
DFM
The reason became apparent on Sunday 22 June, when the Germans activated Operation Barbarossa - the invasion of the Soviet Union. Over two thousand aircraft and three million men were involved in mounting the challenge, and overnight the USSR became an ally. With so many aircraft engaged on the Eastern Front, the Luftwaffe changed tactics. Bombers were running in across the mouth of The Wash on their way to raid the Midlands, and there were minelayers flying low around the Humber Estuary and East Coast ports. But, more important, sharply.
there were roving enemy night fighters joining the returning RAF bombers, causing havoc around the congested airfields of East Anglia. To counter this, John took B Flight of 604 Squadron to spend time at Coltishall, in Norfolk, to stand in for 255 Squadron. The latter were to take over the sector, but were still settling in with their new Merlinengined Beaufighter lis, the first of which had been received in July. John had a narrow escape attacking a Heinkel, when the enemy dorsal gunner fired at them accurately as he broke upwards over the enemy's fin. One engine was on fire, and the other was banging and spluttering while they were still far out to sea. However, the Hercules engine miraculously picked up again. He managed to cross the coast and reach Coltishall,
54
By Royal Command doing a right-handed circuit against the good engine before sinking to a touchdown. He yelled for Jimmy to get out quickly, because he thought the other engine was still burning. Jimmy, in his haste to comply, gashed his head on long bolts which had just been added to carry new equipment, before staggering out into the glare of car headlights. The night-fighter squadron which arrived to take over the No. 255 Squadron's sector lost two of their Beaufighters because of engine failure, one being the aircraft of their CO, so 604 spent a few more weeks at faultless
Coltishall.
The
low-flying intruders, especially the fast
Ju
88s,
were
causing problems, partly because of their high performance, and partly due to the fact that there was little chance of finding them by radar at that low altitude, because of 'ground clutter'. It was obvious to John that a faster night fighter (such as the Mosquito) was required, as well as a new AI system which could track these bandits even at low level John had recently been promoted to Wing Commander, and had taken over from Charles Appleton as 604's Commanding Officer. Later, there were to be some changes in their life-style at Middle Wallop. The airfield had been busy both by day and by night, which made it difficult for nightflying crews to relax when they were off duty. Bill Elliot, the Sector Commander, had long since recognised this problem, and arrangements were made to take over The Pheasant, on the Salisbury road. Tt was a lovely old pub', John said, 'and it became the Squadron's Officers' Mess, staffed by WAAFs (Women's Auxiliary Air Force), and totally self-contained - a place where those not flying could sleep peacefully. It was my home for a year, and was conveniently situated, being six miles away on the road to Salisbury. The Pheasant, or Winterslow Hut, to give it its old coaching name, had been modernised with central heating and adequate plumbing without spoiling its quiet, natural charm with chromium plate and juke-boxes. The married chaps had a house in Nether Wallop, near the airfield. When we were off-duty one of our favourite pubs was the 14th-Century Haunch of Venison in the centre of Salisbury. Elderly women used to serve us good food and wine there, and looked after us well. We used to meet some of the chaps from Boscombe Down. Sometimes we used to walk up the hill opposite The Pheasant and have a beer in the little hamlet of Winterslow, or go into Andover'.
55
Nine
Not Carrots but Cathodes
Now
was heavily occupied on the Eastern Front, tempo of operational life at Middle Wallop slackened considerably, enabling the crews to work out new and more involved tactics, and to standardise methods. There was also an influx of new blood at this stage, not only British, but also coming from Canada, the USA, Australia, New Zealand, Poland and Norway. The Squadron was that the Luftwaffe
the
able to absorb this
new talent, producing a highly
everyone was keen
to
competitive mixture -
outdo the others!
Sometimes the Squadron was involved in a PR and liaison exercise. The idea was that factory workers could meet the men using the equipment and aircraft that they assembled. It was a good idea in principle, but often seemed a waste of time because the factory workers were working as fast as they could anyway. Indeed, the visits were a distraction. John managed to avoid most of them, but was once persuaded to visit a factory making the AI Mk IV. The trip turned out to be more interesting than expected, and included an excellent lunch. At one point, John was introduced to a large and sleepy cat, together with a comment on his 'Cat's eyes' reputation. To John, who had no love for cats at any time, this was an awkward moment. Modesty prevented him from claiming to be equal to his reputation, and politeness prevented him from making any comment about the cat. He suffered these kind attentions as courteously as possible, but was grateful
when the tour moved on. John had always discouraged
adulation and hero-worship, feeling that he was simply there to get a job done, and that he would naturally do it as well as possible. But in time of war the public needs its heroes, and the Press could always be relied on to play to the gallery. As a result, John was seldom able to avoid attracting publicity wherever he went. He
remained intensely modest and played the 'Cat's eyes' image down as best he could, but it continued to dog him for the rest of his life. He has never had any urge to stand at the centre of the stage. For an understanding of John's approach, it is helpful to point up the operational differences between day-fighter leaders and John's own modus operandi. A day-fighter CO led his squadron in formation - they 56
Not Carrots but Cathodes were all up there together. They were all there with the CO when they engaged the enemy, or attacked ground targets, and they had R/T communication with him. It was the kind of esprit de corps reminiscent of warfare through the ages. Similarly with Wing Leaders, whose tactics were visible to all those who flew with them. It was leadership by personal example which built their reputations, and their pilots had a grandstand view. At dusk, the vast majority were off-duty and could participate in squadron nocturnal activities, and enjoy their nights in oblivion! John, on the other hand, could never demonstrate his powers of leadership in the air with his squadron alongside him. He and Jimmy went off alone, as did the others. Although his record proved his tactics and skills, his leadership qualities were devoted to helping his crews to develop night-fighting expertise by mastering their aircraft and the use of radar. In so doing he also had to be in regular contact with the scientists - at the time called 'boffins' - to be ahead of the game. When new pilots arrived on the Squadron from an OTU (Operational Training Unit), and were confronted with the Beaufighter, they were invariably apprehensive. Word had got around that the awesome machine was a death-trap, and that an engine failure was inevitably fatal. John accordingly made a practice of taking every new crew for a demon-
own aircraft when they first arrived. The new pilot stood up behind John in the front, and his operator squeezed beside Jimmy in the rear. John would take off loaded with four people, and as he climbed out across the boundary hedge he would cut one throttle right back, and complete a single-engined circuit with one prop idly windmilling. But the show was not over, because he would then take off in company with another aircraft, and demonstrate an interception and an attack. This would lead to a steep curved landing approach, with power in hand, which enabled him to keep a look out below and behind, before flattening out for touch-down. Such approaches were nerve-wracking to the young pilots, but John's comment was, 'It's better to step out of the wreckage at the far end of the flare-path than to be dug out at the near end.' Unquestionably, however, he proved the versatility of the Beaufighter this way, and generated a much greater eagerness and confidence in the aircraft on the part of his new crews to get on with their own flying. Unlike night fighting, the day boys rarely used their instruments, having to keep looking out of the cockpit to stay alive. They could also defuse the power of the dreaded Isaac because mostly they had the luxury of a natural horizon to stabilise the machine. Night-fighter pilots had to be able to fly entirely on instruments, often in severe climatic conditions, and for long periods. Tracking a bandit at night demanded specialised skills and technical training. There were no short cuts or easy stration trip in his
solutions.
57
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
When Jimmy Rawnsley became Navigator Leader, and was promoted to Flight Lieutenant, his side of the partnership in start
by
flying with each df 604's crews in turn.
He
crew training was
to
stood behind the pilot
during night-flying tests, with headphones plugged in, and watched interceptions pre-arranged with target aircraft. This enabled him to listen to the patter, and to check the different methods employed by the inexperienced operators. Some of their responses to the antics of the 'Magic Box' took his mind back to the times when he was himself struggling to pick up a target, and he could understand their frustrations and emotions. By then, the aircrew status of the operators had been classified as Observers (Radio). They were also given a new flying badge with the letters RO, under the single wing, and elevated to the rank of Sergeant. Nobody understood why the letters had been twisted around, and presumed that it was done to cloak the trade in secrecy - though of course could mean Radar Operator. John set himself a programme to become acquainted with every new advance in the radar system, in which he took a keen and active interest. This brought him into regular contact with the secret establishments, who were only too anxious to have his opinion on any projects they were formulating. Now that the operational pressure had eased off at Middle Wallop, he often took Jimmy with him to conferences, trials and demon-
RO
strations.
TRE, TFU and FIU. During would also have Derek Jackson with them. Jackson was the great brain on 604. He could not only talk Thus they entered the
exotic world of
these highly technical dissertations John
language, but also contribute enthusiastically to their scientific theories. The springboard of these outfits was TRE - the Telecommunications Research Establishment - at Malvern, where Air Ministry electronics requirements were investigated, and put into practical shape by some of the best scientific brains in the country. Originally they had been based at Worth Matravers on the South Coast, but when the RAF sent a Commando team and radar experts to steal vital parts from a big Luftwaffe air-defence radar station in France, the realisation dawned that two could play that game! Accordingly TRE was moved into the seclusion of Malvern College near the Welsh border. The prototype experimental gadgets were then tested in the air at Defford aerodrome by TFU - the Telecommunications Flying Unit. From here it was a short trip by car to Malvern where, having gone through the intricate security system, John's party would listen to a scientific debate concerning the 'boffin'
latest projects.
The
'boffins', as the scientists
were popularly
called,
had no
restraints
when it came to turning ideas into new devices. Their enthusiasm was irreverent and infectious. They were highly disciplined in terms of their knowledge, but gave no quarter in their conversation or inhibitions
58
Not Carrots but Cathodes and arguments with each other, no matter what the rank or reputation of the other. One of them would fill the blackboard with figures and diagrams for several minutes, building his case for some aspect of a new idea, while the others listened with increasing scepticism. Sooner or later, one of those seated could stand it no longer, and would jump up, grab a stick of chalk, write out his own arguments, and demolish or modify the contentions of the previous speaker. They were fully aware of the urgency of the situation, and the need to develop and improve equipment as soon as possible. They were totally absorbed in their work. Often they would arrive at 604 after a long and tiring journey, and would then discuss their ideas furiously until the early hours of the next day. These contacts with TRE provided John and his associates with encouraging glimpses of forthcoming equipment to solve existing problems. In particular, much work had been done with UHF (Ultra-High Frequency) radar which, using reflective scanners like large dishes, flung the pulses out in narrow directional beams. The system was designed to reduce dramatically the grass-like garbage of ground returns (unwanted reflections from the Earth's surface below), in order to enable the operator to see well ahead even when flying low down. This became known as 4-inch (10-cm) radar, this being the very short wave-length, and was to provide the answer to the sneak raider, and even to the minelayer flying only just above the surface of the sea. Operational trials on experimental sets were carried out by the Fighter Interception Unit - FIU - based at Ford aerodrome on the Sussex coast. FIU consisted of a number of highly qualified technicians, and hand-picked night-fighter crews who were resting from operational flying. Testing and assessing the prototype night fighters and their experimental equipment, and making suggestions for improving them, was an exciting job. A great deal depended on their findings, and they readily welcomed operational people like John to confirm, or challenge, their conclusions.
59
Ten
Duel of Champions
On
7
the
December 1941
the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, bringing
USA into the War. There was a general air of excitement,
as
powerhouse had been drawn into the action. The German attack on the Soviet Union in June had, at least, postponed the immediate threat of an invasion of England. Now there even seemed to be a prospect of eventual victory. At Christmas 1941 there was a festive atmosphere at Middle Wallop, while the War over Britain was in a stalemate, with enemy activity only well as understandable relief that this giant
sporadic. It had been a year of outstanding success and consolidation for 604 Squadron, and particularly for John himself. His partnership with Jimmy had prospered to such an extent that they were now regarded as 'the best team in the business'. As a result John had been promoted from Flight Lieutenant to Wing Commander, and Jimmy from Sergeant to Flight Lieutenant. Both had been heavily decorated because of their exploits, and they were right in the forefront of the totally new night-time
radar war. By the spring of 1942 both sides were sending out 'intruders', using bad- weather conditions to cloak their attacks. It was known that KGr. 100 - the old high-tech enemy - had been equipped with a new system of blind bombing which would enable them to navigate to their target, bomb it, and return to base without ever having to emerge from cloud cover. These sneak raiders were very difficult to locate, and they came when the weather was too thick for day fighters to operate effectively. Hence, RAF night fighters, manned by experienced crews, were called to readiness on those conditions, even in the daytime. They had better homing and blind-flying approach aids, a longer range, and the AI enabled them to track a bandit even when he slipped into cloud cover. In late May 1942 John had a unique and memorable duel with a Heinkel 111. Drizzling clouds covered the hills, and layers of cloud went up to 20,000 feet. Having studied the weather reports, KGr. 100 decided to 'have a go'. John was called, and took off at four o'clock in the afternoon, with the cloud base frighteningly low. Soon after the undercarriage retracted the Earth vanished, and they were cocooned in white vapour.
60
Duel of Champions Calmly, he looked at the instruments interpreting the message to tell him. 'Now ... let me see. left bank that's better'. The Beaufighter keeled over and gradually things began to quieten down. Jimmy suddenly saw the Heinkel again as it flashed past apparently heading straight downwards. A quick glance at the AI set told him that they were frighteningly close to high ground, which rose up to 900 feet. As he watched the blip from the Heinkel it disappeared in the foliage of ground returns. Starlight could do nothing, and the blip had vanished from their own cathode-ray tube. Jimmy, exhausted, searched for a homing beacon on the AI set. John, who could resist feeling exhausted, felt his way gently down through cloud, finally breaking out into the clear only just above the dripping landscape. It was a relief to get back to Middle Wallop after two-and-ahalf hours of highly-charged flying. When they broke off the engagement, John had the Beaufighter at over 340 mph indicated, which was very high in those blind low-level conditions with a toppled horizon. News soon came through that the Heinkel had 'gone in' on the high ground of the sodden slopes of Cranborne Chase. Apparently it had broken out of cloud at a few hundred feet, diving almost vertically, and failed by only a few feet to pull out in time. They found the wreckage close to the lonely village of Alvediston. Intelligence later discovered that the pilot had been Hauptmann Siegfried Langer, the Commanding Officer of 7 Staffel of KGr. 100. Throughout the battle John had not fired a single shot, so the encounter was truly a match between champions. to himself.
they were trying
.
.
.
.
.
There must have been a smile on Jimmy's face when 'the powers that do away with the confusing RO designation, under the single wing, and replace it with the familiar N, for navigator. Most of the operators, who had had no previous training in navigation, were sent off on special courses. Gradually the operators became known as navigators, which was a much better way of cloaking the secret of the 'Magic Box', and a more satisfying identity for those wearing the badge. Meanwhile, RAF Bomber Command had been steadily increasing its attacks on Germany. The Luftwaffe, stung by these reprisals, retaliated by stepping up the tempo of its own night attacks on England. Discarding the previous policy of sending over long queues of night bombers, it began to probe any weaknesses in the RAF night defence system by operating a series of stealthy 'smash and grab' raids on coastal and carefully
be' decided to
selected inland targets.
63
Eleven
Desk-bound The
'Achilles heel' in the defensive radar system
was
its
inability to
detect the fast low-flying bandit, until he climbed quickly for a short bombing run as he neared the coast. Then he swiftly dropped
his lethal load
and dived out
again.
The defending fighter had to snap up
it would find the sneak-thief had made a successful raid, and was back out of reach almost before the air-raid warning had sounded. On top of this, to add to the difficulties, an odd new phenomenon had lately been appearing on AI tubes. This was a confusing mass of 'grass' that swamped the blips out of existence whenever they ventured out towards the enemy coastline. So began a back-room war of jamming and counter-jamming, which only the boffins could win. In 1942 the Luftwaffes attacks began to focus on Britain's cathedral cities, and became known as the 'Baedeker raids'. They were specifically directed against cities distinguished by three stars in the Baedeker guide book as being 'of outstanding historic or artistic interest'. Based in France, the Luftwaffes KG2 bomber Wing was employing the fast and manoeuvrable Dornier 217, which often inflicted severe damage, because of its large bombload, the paucity of the static defences of these non-industrial targets, and the brevity of the hit-and-run attacks. It had been obvious for some time that low-level interception would involve new technology. At last, in came an aircraft fitted with the
these hit-and-run intruders very quickly, or
production type of 4-inch (10-cm) wavelength radar. This AI, known as Mk VII, dispensed with fixed wing and fuselage antennas and instead sent out a directed beam from a powerful nose-mounted transmitter, behind which was a tiltable parabolic-dish reflector. In Jimmy's words, 'Both the booing [transmitting] and the harking [receiving] were done within a new plastic nose to the Beaufighter, inside which a scanner shaped like a dish whirled around at high speed.' This equipment could track really low down, and had a range of between two and three miles (3-5 km). It represented a spectacular breakthrough by British radar engineers at a crucial period, but it had taken a long time to develop for squadron use. John, in fact, had first flown with 10-cm radar in a flight from the SRDE (Signals R&D Establishment) at
64
Desk-bound Christchurch, near Bournemouth, in the summer of 1941. Jimmy was also delighted to find that the ammunition for the Beaufighter's cannons was at last connected in long belts stored in tanks spaced across the catwalk. This meant that he no longer had the arduous task of reloading heavy drums. He went to FIU at Ford for an instruction course by the crews who had been carrying out operational trials, and VII to be entirely different. For one thing, all the found the new AI information was displayed on a single tube. The ground echoes, although kept at a respectable distance, could still be seen when flying low. The
Mk
surged up and down at the bottom of the tube as the scanner it did not interfere nearly so much with the overall picture. This new kit could see with great accuracy within a strictly limited beam, not unlike that of the sharply focused headlight of a car. Some weeks later, while they were engaged in mastering the new system, John and Jimmy were suddenly told that they were to go on 'rest'. John was to take over the job of directing the work of all the night-flying OTUs of Fighter Command, while Jimmy was to be sent to No. 62 at Usworth, near Newcastle-upon-Tyne. But John 'pulled a few strings' and Jimmy went with him to Headquarters, No. 81 Group, the training group of Fighter Command. John was to take over from Rory Chisholm, who had finished his tour of operations when 604 Squadron left Coltishall, becoming a fighter controller at Middle Wallop before taking on this staff job at Group Headquarters. The Mess arranged a farewell dinner for them at The Pheasant pub, and, as they left, a Beaufighter purred quietly overhead heading for Bournemouth. Looking up John said softly, 'Well that's that. There'll never be another three years quite like it.' Jimmy was in a reflective mood, too, knowing that the break was not going to be an easy one. He described his thoughts at that particular time saying, 'We had had a good 'grass'
revolved; but
OTU
.
.
.
innings together: three years of preparation, and three years of war. In that time we had seen the whole fabric of night defence built up. It had
been three years of hard work and good fun, of long dreary nights of boredom, of nights of frustration, of nights of fear and tragedy, and of nights of sweet content under the glory of the stars. It had been three years of happy companionship in a worthwhile job.' Three years of being 'on call' was, for the RAF, a very long operational tour. Bomber Command later settled, in most cases, for a tour of 30 missions. Fighter pilots were usually given a rest after 18 months or two years on a squadron. But John and Jimmy had been continuously and heavily involved, both operationally and in the development of nightfighting tactics. The medics called it 'operational fatigue', the result of prolonged nervous strain and tension. Consequently 'rests' were made compulsory, even if the person concerned proclaimed that there was nothing wrong with him either physically or mentally.
65
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Jimmy
admitted, 'I was becoming haunted by the idea that I had let team down, that I was not big enough for my boots as the Navigator Leader, that I had had my big chance and had thrown it away.' He was
the
also conscious of the fact that John himself personified the 'action man',
and wouldn't take kindly to being divorced from active flying and tied to an office. However, they had no choice but to comply with the six months' sentence imposed upon them. Just before they left Middle Wallop John was awarded a bar to his DSO, and the Squadron immediately responded by using that as an excuse for an additional farewell party. Jimmy had previously been promoted to Squadron Leader, and had added a bar to his DFM plus a
DFC. They drove
to Avening, on the outskirts of a tiny hamlet in the Cotswolds, to find that the Headquarters of No. 81 Group was housed in an old manor house, surrounded by huts. It was totally isolated and, despite the sunshine, looked rather gloomy and dismal, making them feel even more despondent. They met various 'odd bods', who kept drifting
and out, but, after squadron life, the atmosphere was totally unreal. With his usual reticence, John described this 'office' period as a rather difficult and unhappy time, broken only by the sound of an aeroplane, when he would stick his head out of the window only to find that Jimmy was doing the same further along the building. John did not have a clerical background, and the endless paperwork was a strain for him. Furthermore, he was stifled in an atmosphere where the nicely-turned phrase, the correct report of a meeting, and the neatly kept file were all regarded as so much more important than the realities of the front-line War. Fortunately for both of them the Senior Air Staff Officer could see what John was going through. Group Captain M.W.S. Robinson had distinguished himself in the Battle of Britain, and understood John's problem. He knew perfectly well that John could do far more good in half-anhour's personal contact with instructors and pupils at the various OTUs, in
than pining behind a desk. So when John suggested that he should get out and visit the chaps 'on site', Robinson agreed with good humour. Fortunately for John these units were scattered all over the country. The three principal night-fighter OTUs were at Cranfield, Bedfordshire; Charterhall, in Berwickshire near the Scottish border (from where Richard Hillary made his last takeoff); and East Fortune, east of Edinburgh. The only practical way of visiting them was by air. Initially they used the Group's Oxford, but then John arranged with 604 Squadron to have his beloved Beaufighter on loan.
Then they felt happy and free, flying above the weather and making way from one radar beacon to another as they traversed the country
their
66
Desk-bound OTUs. Instructors and pupils alike watched with awe John's touchdowns and short landing runs, and listened with even greater respect to his suggestions and advice. John soon discovered problems with some of the instructors, who had been unloaded on to the OTUs because they had been incapable, or misfits on squadrons. John had to weed some of them out and tell squadrons that, if they wanted good crews, they would have to supply good instructors. In return, the instructors provided by the squadrons would be guaranteed a return to operational flying with their squadrons at the end of six months, provided that they performed well. Rory Chisholm had made inroads to cure the malady, andjohn furthered Rory's work by forging a gentlemen's agreement regarding instructors, bringing everybody concerned together. While John was busy with the training of pilots and finally of crews, Jimmy was involved in the navigation training programmes. Graduallv the work they were doing began to produce results, but the flight-training programmes were badly hampered by the severe winter of 1942. Their to visit the
faultless
determined efforts to maintain the training programme schedule in foul weather only increased the accident rate. It was in such conditions that Richard Hillary was killed flying a Blenheim. Hillary was an ex-Battle of Britain pilot, who had been very badlv burnt. He received the 'Guinea Pig' treatment at East Grinstead, under the direction of the famous plastic surgeon. Sir Archibald Mclndoe. This
was a long, agonising and painstaking process suffered by manv casualties who called themselves Guinea Pigs - they were being experimented on as their shattered features were being rebuilt. During his period in the burns unit Hillary wrote a book called The Last Enemy, a very talented piece of writing which became a best-seller, and is generally acknowl-
be one of the great books of the Second World War. Hillary, by his burns, forced himself to to get back into the air, undoubtedly against his better judgment. Just after midnight on 7 January 1943 his Blenheim, which had been orbiting a flashing beacon, spiralled into the ground, killing him and his young navigator, Walter Fison. Although John was not happy with the job he was doing, he stoically carried on but, as the weeks went by, he began making contacts, dropping hints, and pulling strings. Jimmy was also becoming restless, although he had more experience of office life. Jimmy recalled that with the coming of Christmas and still no definite news of a posting, John began to grow even more fidgety, more dispirited and even shorttempered, which was most unusual for him. Rory Chisholm had also found life at Avening difficult. To be divorced from active flying and to sit instead in an office, trying to plan, was depressing at times. There were the temptations that mav produce u the drunks" of the next war. To live normal hours, to have every night off and no longer to experience the fear and subsequent elation - the
edged still
to
disfigured
67
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
triumph of getting back on the ground in one piece - will dissatisfy a tourexpired pilot, and he will long for the old excitement; but as a staff officer he can often fly, for his work may take him all over the country, and that sort of flying can also be absorbing.' Older than John, and with an engineering background, Rory was a different character. He was highly intelligent and worked hard to achieve perfection in everything he did, but he was a sensitive man, and fretted. When he visited the OTUs, albeit in a Tiger Moth, he would study the geography of the country, break the flight up into memorised sections, and never be far from a railway line to which he could turn in bad visibilty. He found weather reports often misleading, but he enjoyed the satisfaction of getting there, and always the exhilaration of flying. John, on the other hand, would glance at the map, check the wind, and decide on a course to fly that was never more than a degree or so, and perhaps a couple of miles, out.
68
Twelve
Back on Ops was some time before the end ofJanuary 1943 when John, his eyes sparkling, broke the splendid news to Jimmy. He explained that he had been given Command of No. 85 Squadron, and Jimmy was to go with him as the Squadron's Navigator Leader. So the line was finally drawn, and John's first staff appointment came to an end. Undoubtedly, both he and Jimmy had done a fine job in sorting out Operational Training Units, but it was not their style to stagnate in a quiet backwater. The War had been going well for Britain in North Africa, with Rommel's Afrika Korps in retreat, and they were anxious to get back into action. John was delighted with his posting. 'The Squadron was equipped with Mosquito lis and was based at Hunsdon, from where we could cover Target London', he said. T had no qualms about taking over a new squadron, and my first job was to find out how they performed.' He and Jimmy drove to Hunsdon aerodrome - only a few miles east of Hatfield - in his big open Lagonda, to find that the Officers' Mess was in an old country house called Bonningtons. He stopped outside the entrance, and they got out. For Jimmy the great moment had arrived and, feeling rather like a new boy on his first day at school, he squared his shoulders and
It
followed John into the Mess. A group of officers, obviously dolled up and looking very selfconscious in their best blue, drew themselves up as they walked in. It was all, reflected John, very much in the tradition, and he could not help feeling an inward amusement. young pilot, smiling cherubically beneath a mop of ginger hair well plastered down, came forward. 'Good evening, Sir', he said. 'My name's Farrell. Will you have a drink, Sir?' John sensed that it was not so much an invitation as an appeal. There was something almost beseeching in the way the question had been asked; and the whole gathering seemed to have frozen into a tense silence as they waited for John's answer. 'Thank you', he said, 'A half of bitter, please.' The tension relaxed with an audible sigh, and there was a concerted rush to the bar. Unbeknown to him,John had awarded himself an accumulation of 'house points', because the previous CO, Wing
A
Commander
Raphael, had strongly disapproved of drinking. was taking over a famous squadron which had been formed John (if)
in
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
command of the Canadian ace Billy Bishop, and then of Mick Mannock. Both men -had been awarded Victoria Crosses and many other decorations, and War Birds, one of the great classics of the First World War, gives a moving account of what life was like as a founder member of 85 Squadron. In 1940 the Squadron had fought desperately in France, and then achieved great distinction in the Battle of Britain, flying Hurricanes. Re-equipped with big Douglas Havocs, it converted to a night-fighter squadron in February 1941, and got its first August 1917, under the
Mosquito
in
August 1942.
Hunsdon was not far from North Weald, the sector station which guarded London from aircraft approaching from the East across the Essex marshes, or up the Thames Estuary. John and Jimmy knew the area well,
because 604 Squadron had looked
London
after the eastern
approaches
to
autumn of 1939. After getting to meet everybody on the Squadron, they both began to establish themselves by looking into its operational efficiency, and the in the
ground-control back-up system. There were a number of Canadians serving, because of a long association dating back to Billy Bishop VC. John was told that they were likely to be withdrawn, and posted to exclusive Canadian squadrons, under a politically motivated policy known as 'Dominionization'. Hitherto, most squadrons had contained a mixed crowd of chaps from all over the world, which stimulated a wonderful competitive atmosphere in which the different nationalities acquired mutual respect for one another. Breaking up this system was soon to bring back all the old petty jealousies and misunderstandings, when Home and Dominion squadrons were based on the same stations. Quite apart from that, John was aware
he was soon going to lose some of his best pilots. Their Mosquito NF.IIs were equipped with the pilot indicator AI, which they thought was a stupid innovation. Jimmy wanted to check out his navigators in the air, but the Mosquito cockpit was too confined and that
was no room for a third person. He therefore had AI ground trainer to assess their technique. It gave him there
to rely
on the
quite a shock
when he heard
their staccato, non-stop torrent of words, as he said, 'something like the chanting of a Dutch auctioneer trying to make the sale before closing time'. It was a wonder to him that the pilot could take it all in and react accordingly, when he heard: 'Left - left - left - still left - three thousand - steady - steady - dive - dive - dive- two thousand five hundred - right - right - right - level out - steady - steady - steady .' - two thousand .
.
When he met the retiring Navigator Leader, Jimmy discovered where all
the fast patter
had come from.
source - a sharp-featured,
Flight Lieutenant C.P.
fast thinker,
whose words
Reed was
the
rattled out like a
machine-gun. But to Jimmy's astonishment the system that Phil Reed had 70
Back on Ops promulgated not only worked, but worked well. Nevertheless, Jimmy began training his new navigators by using a more orthodox and relaxed style.
The most flamboyant character at Hunsdon was the senior Flying Control Officer, Squadron Leader M.H. Bradshaw-Jones. He was a tall, gaunt, piratical figure of a
man, who invariably wore a revolver and
thigh-
length waders, and was wont to ride a solo motorcycle around the billiard table with four passengers on board! However, Brad had been accepted
one of the fraternity, and was held in high esteem by the crews. When airborne on a dirty night, they knew that a watchful eye was being kept on the weather, and that they would be recalled in time if it got too bad, and would be given accurate homings with everything properly laid on and waiting for them. The voice was always friendly and calm and confident, no matter what. Perhaps the highest tribute they could pay him was as
to say, as
they buckled on their harness and glanced
at the
thickening
on tonight.' While the men in the Squadron were fundamentally a fine bunch, their attitudes had been softened by too much inactivity over a longish period. They had become too cavalier in their approach, and were being lazy on night-flying tests. John and Jimmy were anxious to point up and remove mist, Tt's all right chaps, Brad's
the shortcomings of the Squadron, before the Luftwaffe did
71
it
for
them.
Thirteen
The Mosquito A
fter
a few flights in daylight, John and Jimmy went off on their
first
/\
night practice in a Mosquito, having worked out a rough system -Z \* for using the pilot-indicator AI. Jimmy's set displayed the entire radar picture, while John had a composite picture relayed to a single small cathode-ray tube, set on the
side of the instrument panel in front
left
of him.
They had previously decided
that Jimmy
would control the
intercep-
As they closed in on the target, to the point when it might take evasive action, John would take over, leaving Jimmy to call out the ranges. When they got close enough for a sight of the other aircraft, Jimmy was to interject tion during the early stages, as part of their established technique.
when
necessary, and supply additional instructions and information, so
from watching his own cathode-ray tube. John had always having to watch the tube and fly the aircraft were separate
as to free John felt
that
occupations!
They were happy
to
be back on the job, especially
in the trim, sleek
Mosquito. John climbed up the small telescopic ladder and disappeared through the small door on the starboard (right) side of the front of the aircraft, with Jimmy close on his heels. Jimmy's seat, unlike his Beaufighter quarters, was nothing more than a shelf on the main spar of the wing on the right side of the cockpit, and set back slightly so that once he settled down he could relax his left shoulder to normal width just behind the pilot's seat. He was known as the 'little man', and he had an advantage over his bigger associates in coping with the distinctly cosy cockpit of the 'Mozzie'. The experienced chaps had warned him not to put on full flying kit, butjimmy was an obstinate fellow and didn't believe that he could ever be warm in any aircraft at night. At least he didn't have to worry about reloading the guns in the new machine, as he and John were literally sitting on top of the four cannon and their big boxes of ammunition, packed underneath the floor of the cockpit. Apart from controlling the radar equipment, he also had some additional tasks, including the operation of the oxygen supply, the petrol selector cocks and the lighting switches, amongst other checks. But, like John, Jimmy had spent hours in the cockpit memorising all the buttons, 72
The Mosquito knobs and gadgets, so that he could drop a hand on them blindfolded. After completing all the checks, John asked, 'All set?' and Jimmy replied, 'Yes ... all set ... gravity tanks on'. When they reached the runway the popping and crackling from the stub exhausts of the Merlin engines close by the side windows rose to an awesome snarl - in contrast to the soft tones of the Beau. The tail lifted and swayed, and the avenue of lights along the runway rushed at them. Then the rumbling stopped and John's right hand came across, reaching for the undercarriage lever. The big wheels thumped back into place, and the dim, clustered lights of the Sergeants' Mess streaked away. It was good at last to be back on the job.
They climbed eastward, heading
North Sea. As they gained became noticeably warmer. The
for the
height, the temperature in the cockpit
Merlin engines were liquid-cooled, and the radiators were set into the centre section of the wings, with the inlets in the leading edges. Only the thin sat
wooden
shell of the fuselage separated
and sweated
in a Turkish bath.
He
them from
the cabin. Jimmy
regretted his obstinacy in insisting
his full flying kit, but he was thankful at the prospect of their second tour being in a really warm aircraft. On the other hand, he was not too happy about the change from aircooled to liquid-cooled engines. The ear-splitting racket from the Merlins was very tiring after the soothing snore of the Hercules. Moreover, those radiators offered quite a large target, and it would take only one bullet, or even a piece of flying wreckage, to put an engine
on using
quickly out of action.
Both John and Jimmy had previously gained a strong impression that had been regarded as mere cursory routine flights, as with night-flying tests. They had been astonished that the target aircraft had always been flown at 10,000 feet, with no variations. When the GCI Controller called, he gave them a course to steer but there was no mention of height. They heard their playmate 'bandit' being vectored after them, but no height was mentioned, and they were puzzled that their accomplice didn't ask for one. John said over the intercom, 'I think we'll have to shake these people up a bit'. He opened the throttles, pulled up the nose, and climbed quickly to 20,000 feet, where he levelled out. Still there was no mention of heights from the Controller. The echo from the playmate, which appeared on Jimmy's set, showed him to be behind, and far down below. The aircraft had no contact with them at all, and soon he was vertically below. The Controller kept calling that he must have contact, and insisting that the two aircraft were together. But the other aircraft called out, 'Definitely no joy'. The Controller, unable to control his exasperation, almost snorted, 'Then your weapon must be bent'. the Squadron's night-interception practices
73
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
John chuckled, and switched the radio to transmit. Quietly he said: 'Two Four calling. What do you make my angels?' There was a brief silence. Perhaps the Controller was too stunned to reply. When he did, it was with obviously restrained indignation at this interruption.
'Why
.
anything
.
.
ten!'
came
the answer, as
if it
would be an outrage
for
it
to
be
else.
'Are you quite sure of that?' John asked. After another pause, the Controller replied 'Well
.
.
.
perhaps
it's
twelve.'
may be interested am at twenty.'
'You 'that I
to
know', John
said,
an icy edge
to his voice,
There was not much doubt left in John's mind that they were going to have to do a lot of sorting out if the Germans were not to catch them napping. Their premonition did not take long to materialise. On the night of 3 March 1943 the Luftwaffe was approaching in strength. As the Squadron was scrambled, sirens were wailing and guns in the Thames Estuary barking furiously. Mosquitos roared down the Hunsdon runway, chasing each other, but John was too late to get contact with one of the GCIs. He broke out of the circuit and climbed hard, noting that the searchlights
were particularly
The
active.
had been reorganised into a regular, box-like pattern around a series of evenly-spaced markers. Each fighter was given one of these boxes to work in, and flew to his allotted marker beacon to orbit until the lights illuminated a target, or formed a cone when he could pick up an AI contact. John was orbiting I for Ink, when they picked up a contact. It was soon obvious that the bandit was going to stay in dense cloud. When they got to within 500 feet of him, John wisely decided not to fire blindly, because the chances of a hit were too small, and if they did clobber the target they searchlights
would almost certainly doned the chase.
fly into
the wreckage. Reluctantly they aban-
They returned to the marker beacon and a little later Jimmy got another contact. They followed it as it weaved its way outward-bound between the swinging beams of the searchlights. When John looked up and spotted a Dornier 217, twisting and turning just ahead, his faith in new AI was swiftly restored. They closed in on what was a sitting target, but John's cannons were lifeless. Twice more they tried, but there was not a flicker of response. Finally the Dornier crew woke up; the 217 dived for the deck and the ground echoes swallowed them up. They were both furious, and could hardly speak to each other when they landed at Hunsdon. A quick check the
74
The Mosquito had dropped its wing tanks and the large its belly, it was very difficult to catch. It of advantages speed, size and manoeuvrability, and a sudden had the dash across the narrow Strait of Dover was going to make it an extremely hard target. The modus operandi of night interception had been based on kills by stealth, but it would need great skill and luck to knock down 190s that way, and the Squadron knew it. However, the German fighter pilots had less experience in night fighting, plus a short range, no radar, and apart from a small mirror they were completely blind behind the tail, so there was everything to play for. The Squadron made up a kitty, comprising bottles of booze and cash, to be awarded to the first crew to knock one down, and Tim Molony, the Adjutant, held the stakes. On the night of 16 May, three days after they had arrived at West Mailing, sirens wailed and searchlights probed the night sky as the 190s streaked in. The phone went in dispersal and the boys grabbed their kit, only to be told to stay put. Some high official had decided that the Typhoons would look after the situation, and there was no point in arguing. The official concerned must have gambled on the fact that the Typhoon had the speed to get at the 190 and the firepower to destroy it. For the best part of an hour B Flight of 85 Squadron sat around arguing amongst themselves. Meanwhile the Typhoons were roaring around the night sky blindly, not having AI, and achieving nothing. Luckily, the Sector Controller had the guts to take matters into his own hands and ordered the Typhoons back to base. Then he scrambled 85 Squadron, who lost no time in picking up the challenge. Peter Green and Grimstone, his operator, were the first to get airborne and got contact three miles behind a 190 homeward-bound. Closing within range Peter shot him down as he crossed back over the coast near Dover. Then, Geoff Howitt and George Irving went after a cluster of searchlights and picked up a contact near Hastings. The Focke-Wulf pilot dived for home, taking evasive action, but they caught up with him and shot him down before he could reach the French coast. Bernard Thwaites and Will Clemo also chased one across the sea but were recalled. On the wav back a freelance contact crossed their bows j and Thwaites whipped round and blew it up from only fifty yards astern, collecting some wreckage in the air intake of one of his engines. Undeterred, he had another crack at a raider and fired three times, and each time he saw hits. The raider disappeared, shedding a large object, and he claimed it as a probable. The score was then three 190s destroyed and one probable, but there was more to come. Shaw and Lowton were caught in searchlights which illuminated them and not the bandit. They managed to extricate themselves and caught the bandit near Gravesend. When they opened fire the locate, and, particularly
bomb which was
once
it
carried under
79
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
190 disintegrated; they flew through the wreckage and came home with windscreen coated in soot. That made four confirmed and one probable for the night. The first kill was made known to Molony, when the jubilant aircrew hammered their
on his door in the early hours, demanding the prizes. The Squadron had cracked the menacing image of the 190, and the boys were going to celebrate.
On the
same day of 16 May the RAF breached the dams in the Ruhr, 617 Squadron's successful attacks with specially-modified Lancasters dropping Barnes Wallis' 'bouncing bombs', so this was a particularly good 24 hours for the RAF. Congratulations from High Command for 85 Squadron's achievement were received at West Mailing, just as they were at Scampton for 61 7's magnificent achievement, which became part in
of
RAF legend
as well as of history.
During this time Jimmy had been away on a Navigator Leaders' Course before reporting to West Mailing. When he returned, he found that life at night in the crew-room in 'Bomb Alley' was rather different. At Middle Wallop they had been able to sleep at readiness and make leisurely take-offs. Here, at Mailing, they
maintained standing patrols throughout the night. While airborne and waiting they would practise interceptions on each other. As soon as GCI cathode-ray tubes showed enemy groups forming over France, the patrols were sent almost to the coast, ready to pounce on the bandits coming in with full tanks and bombload. Simultaneously, the crew-room telephone would ring for another scramble. John did not crack his duck on the second tour until the night of 13 June, when he and Jimmy had gone off on patrol up and down the Channel off Dungeness just before midnight. They were flying at 23,000 feet, having plenty of height to build overtaking speed in a dive. 'Skyblue', the Controller, tipped them off that a fast customer was on his way in, and timed their converging courses to perfection. Jimmy picked up the blip scuttling across his cathode-ray tube only a mile and a half ahead and well below them. John immediately opened the throttles, and Jimmy brought him around in a tight diving turn. The Focke-Wulf was going full bore, hell-bent for London. Thus, the range closed only very slowly, but the blip was as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar. Providing the searchlights did not complicate matters, and the AI performed, the stage was set as they continued to creep up on the bandit.
Unknown
them, the Sector Controller had telephoned the crewroom to tell the chaps that there was a 190 approaching the aerodrome, and that their CO was close behind. Once again John was to be on stage for a big show. Naturally they all rushed out, ears turning to pick up the sound of aircraft engines from the south. The heavy, crunchy snarl of the to
80
The Mosquito German radial engine came first, followed by the familiar howl of the Mosquito's Merlins, until the aircraft drew closer and their engine sounds blended into one. This was John's cue as he identified the 190 and briefly touched the trigger. His guns coughed briefly and the bandit reared up on its nose, flicked over, and dived straight in. Those far below on the aerodrome heard the short bark of the cannon and then the increasing sound from the 190 engine until it grew into a tortured scream, silenced by an exploding red flash that silhouetted the trees to the west, followed by a giant crump that shook the ground and rattled the windows. They learnt later that the pilot had had a miraculous escape from the clutches of old Isaac. When the aircraft had flicked over into its dive he had been catapulted through the canopy, breaking his arm. Faced with the realisation that he was no longer with his machine and was wingless he managed to open his parachute, and was picked up by a searchlight crew. This was the second occasion that John had performed on stage: for the King, he shot down a Heinkel, and then he bagged a 190 with his
Squadron
in the stalls. It
seemed
that
he had the magic touch for the
occasion, but these events were weird coincidences, which could not
them as all part of the and events which could have happened to any of his crews. He had a natural charm, and the infectious enthusiasm in his voice enabled him
possibly be stage-managed. John himself regarded job,
come through his exploits with his perspective intact. Bob Wright, who served under his command on both 604 and 85 Squadrons described him as:
to
'.
.
.
a
man
of rare personal qualities that are a combination of great
strength of character, integrity, and sense of purpose, along with a
warm
and responsive humour His sincerity is to be found in the nature of his voice and his way of speaking. There is in both the attractive quality of sounding as if he is on the verge of a chuckle, accompanied by a ready .
.
.
cheerfulness.
The only change - and
it is
comes when he is at the becomes crisp, impersonal
a remarkable one -
control of an aircraft. Then, as a pilot, his voice
how much he is master of the situation. But most of all and natural charm, and I use the word advisedly, with which he has always treated everybody in his contacts with them/ and
firm, revealing
there
is
the easy
uses the words 'crisp, impersonal and firrn, when describing air, but tnese words could be equally applicable to his command of a squadron. A Squadron Commander has to be ruthless to ensure that his unit maintains the highest possible efficiency, which was John's primary objective. But he also did everything possible to help everyone with regard to tactics, training and radar
Bob
John's change of voice in the
81
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
equipment, via his contacts with the boffins. Throughout he led by example, and his crews were only too keen to emulate him. The Germans soon discovered that even employing 190s on a 'hit-andrun' basis was becoming a costly investment, and that they needed an answer to the Mosquito. Intelligence had told 85 Squadron that they could be up against a new, very fast and manoeuvrable two-seat fighterbomber. This appeared as the Messerschmitt 210, and later the 410. The machine carried a pilot and a gunner-navigator seated in tandem, and was defended by two rearward-firing 13-mm heavy machine-guns, operated by remote control, and mounted in blisters on either side of the slim fuselage. The crews at West Mailing spent considerable time in Intelligence studying photographs and models, checking every detail, especially the angles of defensive fire, and the outline of the aircraft from every conceivable aspect. This was the Germans' answer to the Mosquito, and it looked to be a formidable machine.
82
Fourteen
Summer
1943
The summer
of 1943 was a brilliant one, and it heralded major changes in night-fighting tactics. AI radars had long since passed from the early experimental stages, and equipment of more advanced design, far more reliable and efficient, was being used. It was decided that the time had come to release the earlier types of AI for use over enemy territory. To date, RAF night fighters had been operating in a defensive capacity, but now some of them could take on an offensive role over the Continent as 'intruders'. Meanwhile the Luftwaffe was keeping up the pressure by sending over a mixed bag of Fw 190s, Me 410s and new types of Ju 88, all of which were hard to intercept. This, combined with the presence of the RAF's homecoming bombers, made the job of identification by ground control extremely difficult. The challenge of definite visual recognition by nightfighter crews was transformed by Ross night binoculars, which had no great magnification but an amazing power of collecting available light. The 85-Sqn crews soon tried them out. With their help, a vague blur to the naked eye in the darkness two hundred yards away became a Mosquito, with its Squadron letters VY readable on the fuselage. When the Germans conducted a sharp raid on Portsmouth in midAugust Jimmy got three contacts, all flying fast, and brought John in to visual range. Using his binoculars, the first turned out to be a Beaufighter and so did the second. The third was moving very fast, and was difficult to catch up with. Atjohn's word, Jimmy looked up from his displays. The strap of the glasses caught in his harness, but even without them he could
was no Beaufighter. The fuselage was much too slim and deliwas far more likely to be an Me 410. He fumbled impatiently with the strap and finally got the glasses to bear. It was a Mosquito! Apart from routine and operational flying during that summer, John was busy visiting FIU, Defford, and TRE, Sector Operations, Group and Fighter Command. He was keeping tabs on all interesting and significant factors concerning the business, and often took Jimmy with him. On one trip to FIU, for example, they were able to try out the new US-developed AI Mark X, and later 85 Squadron became the first RAF squadron to see that this
cate:
it
receive
it.
83
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
The skies above were increasingly full of aircraft. By day, ever-larger formations of USAAF bombers were outbound on missions, returning in the late afternoon. Before dusk the RAF 'heavies' in never-ending streams began their climb to cross the enemy coast. Those below the crowded skies, watching and hearing the thunder of those mighty 'airmadas', began to realise that at last the tide of war appeared to be turning, but had no idea of the price being paid. John and Jimmy had visited RAF heavy-bomber stations and were appalled at the casualty rate. On one raid alone Bomber Command lost over 500 aircrew - more than the number of pilots killed in the entire Battle of Britain! The strain of operational flying is a complex subject, because people react differently to exposure to deadly danger. The 'Enemy Within', as it was called, and how it affected them, was something most people kept to themselves, and would not talk about unless pressed. Life went on, each man fighting his own battle his own way. If it threatened to come to the surface, a man would make a joke about his 'twitch', or 'the gremlins'. It was a natural outcome of the job which had to be done, but it was even more dangerous to bring it out into the open than for each man to bear his own emotions and fears as best he might. It took great courage for a man to make public that he had, at times, to control the enemy within. One of Jimmy's great attributes was his transparent honesty in admitting his weaknesses and, in his opinion, his failings. He even wrote about his fears and anxieties. When he thought that he should have made a contact with a bandit, he castigated himself for his inefficiency. But never did he imply or even mention anything about John in this context. John has never admitted that he suffered from nervous tension, or had to do battle with the enemy within. 'One day followed another', he said, 'and I was totally occupied with what I was doing. There was no time to reflect on such matters, and neither was there any reason, as far as I was concerned. We met each day as it came. That was it.' That comment was pure John. But then he was an exceptional pilot, who could outfly and outwit the enemy in cold blood. The duel with Hauptmann Langer was an outstanding example. Whenever a bandit started to play games John would counter each move, gradually closing in until he had him cold. That type of skill, combined with the ability to fly the aircraft as part of himself, bred an inner confidence which few pilots
ever
attain.
John had had an exceptionally good run operationally to date, having recorded 18 kills, 17 of them at night. On 8 September 1943, Italy surren-
On that night the Luftwaffe sent over only seven fighter bombers, of which three were destroyed, all by 85 Squadron. John chalked up his 1 9th kill, but on this occasion he and Jimmy went through a fairly 'hairy' dered.
experience.
84
Summer
1943
The GCI had vectored them to the north when the little wave of bombers came tearing across the Strait, and Jimmy quickly picked up a contact east of the North Foreland. They gave chase at 22,000 feet on what was a dark night, and the bandit was difficult to see. Jimmy brought John closer and closer to him until the blip on his cathode-ray tube approached minimum range, which made him distinctly uneasy. They got to within 800 feet, when John said he believed he could see the bandit's exhaust, but told Jimmy to hang on. John continued to close in, and at 600 feet the blip on Jimmy's set was scarcely more than a flicker beating at the very fringe of
Jimmy, sounding
minimum
range.
would be out of any minute, but then John told him to take a look. The other aircraft was barely visible against the pitch-black overcast sky, nothing but a dark blob and a wafer-thin wing around the little blue exhaust flames. But when Jimmy brought the Ross glasses up, the whole picture leapt into startling clarity. It was a 190 all right, with the wing-tanks still in position and the single big bomb suspended under its belly. John fired and the two wing-tanks dropped away, tumbling back and rushing past right and left under the Mosquito's wings. The German pilot weaved gently, wondering what had hit his aircraft, and completely unaware that he had a Mosquito scarcely 30 feet below him. He looked around but there was no sign of guns firing, no searchlights nor any tracer, so he straightened up and proceeded on his course. The game of stealth went on until John dropped back and eased up for another burst. There were flashes from the hits as the shells exploded squarely in the fuselage, and then the 190 slowed right up, swinging from side to side like an exhausted runner at the close of a marathon. John's immediate reaction was to drop down into the safety of the blind spot. He cut the throttles right back, and with the engines coughing and spluttering, the Mozzie slithered right underneath the 190, which was panic-stricken, told John that things
control
swinging wildly.
Tor a horrible moment', Jimmy said, T thought we were going to charge right ahead and into the German's line of fire; but John had things under control. He gradually sideslipped off our extra speed until we were sitting smugly again as close as a shadow beneath the other aircraft.' When Jimmy put up his glasses to take a closer look at the 190 through the Perspex roof, he almost had a fit. It wasn't the black crosses which seemed so close that he could stroke them, but the 'dirty great bomb' still hanging underneath, just above their heads! He visualised the wounded pilot groping around in his fume-filled cockpit for the release switch and, as he waited and watched with fascinated horror, he could feel the sweat trickling down his sides and back. However, John had positioned them in the safest place, bomb or no bomb, until he could manoeuvre for another attack. It seemed like an 85
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Ah. well. third time luckv'. He was no more than 75 yards away when he opened fire. This time the strikes were followed by a bright flash, as the entire cockpit cover broke eternity to Jimmy, but at last John said,
away with pieces
%
.
.
flashing past them.
Suddenly their cabin was filled with thick white smoke swirling out from behind John's seat. Jimmy turned and saw it squirting from the cabin heater. His immediate reaction was that it must be petrol, and he jabbed his finger into the stuff, tore aside his mask, and stuck his finger in his mouth. The sickly-sweet taste of glycol engine-coolant came as a relief, but John had guessed as much because he was already feathering the port propeller, and trimming the aircraft to fly on one engine. Apparently some of the flying wreckage from the 190 had pierced the port radiator, which also supplied the cabin with hot air. John called up for an emergency homing as thev crossed the coast and turned on to a course for home. He kept looking at his instruments, and muttering in a puzzled way about the height. Jimmy could just make out the black fingers of the waterways indenting the coast, and far ahead he could see the broader streak of the Thames Estuary, flanked with searchlights.
John was worrying about their height, and told Jimmy to clip on his parachute in case they had to step out. He could have sworn that they at 15,000 feet, but the altimeter was steadily indicating five. Jimmy noticed the puzzled tone of his voice, and it was the first time that he had ever heard John uncertain. He switched off the AI to conserve the failing batteries as they edged westwards, aiming to cross the estuary at a narrower part to keep clear of the balloons and the guns. The Sector Controller's voice was thin and weak in the headphones as he tried to establish their position, but they knew that they were over land, heading for base, and maintaining height on the one good engine running smoothly. The searchlights were still coning and sweeping seawards as the last of the raiders went racing back to France. Far off to the left a red pinpoint of fire burst in the sky. It swelled and became a ball, hanging there for a moment, and then plunged into the sea.
were
AA
Someone was still on the job. They crossed the Thames Estuary, and suddenly the
carpet of the dark-
ened land ahead was broken by a fairy ring of tiny lights. From within the ring a cone of the canopy searchlights sprang up and stood there like a luminous teepee; and outside the circle the red neon beacon of West Mailing was winking its greeting. They had heard at the aerodrome that John and Jimmy were in trouble and. air raid or no air raid, they had switched on everything they had to get them home. John did a right-hand circuit on the good engine, followed by a sweet touch-down that was-as light as a feather. He had had a lot to cope with, including a cockpit full of glycol fumes, a return on one engine, and an 86
Summer
1943
emergency radio transmission, quite apart from the close-quarters battle with the 190. However, there was some good news waiting for them. A gun site and a Coastguard station had both reported that the 190 had crashed into the sea off Aldeburgh. The long wait sitting under that bomb had been a strain for Jimmy and '. .for the first time in the four years we had been at war, I had felt an inner rebellion. I forced myself to brush it aside, and I sat down with zest to our night-flying supper, and after that I slept soundly.' Jimmy was not as robustly healthy as John, and during the early part of the War he had suffered from high blood pressure, which had been rectified. His ability to overcome his fears and emotions, coupled with his dedication to the job he was doing, had kept him going. He was not sorry, however, when a little later John told him that he was going to take a few days' leave. John would never admit to strain of any kind, but he must have felt that a break from his hectic and .
would be
As a schoolboy he had been on family holidays to Cornwall, and during the War he had stayed with an uncle who lived at Phillack, on the rugged Atlantic coast. He took a Southern Railway train to Hayle, as petrol rationing precluded him from driving down in his Lagonda. His uncle worked at the Camborne School of Mines, and the little village of Phillack, nestling behind St Ives Bay, provided an ideal retreat for him. Loggans Moor was on the doorstep, and there were three miles of beach from the Hayle Estuary to Godrevy demanding
life
beneficial.
Point, as well as wild-life in the
sand dunes.
By contrast, Jimmy took the night train north to Windermere, and made his way up to Ambleside, on the lake of Grasmere. He loved the peace and quiet of the fells of Cumberland where he was able to get away from the War. His wife Micki had been an ambulance driver, but had ATS (Auxiliary Territorial Service), in which she was later commissioned, but serving at different ends of the country made it well-
joined the
nigh impossible for their leaves to coincide. He joined a party of Youth Hostellers, and 'for a few days nothing mattered to any of us but the weight of a pack or the rub of a blistered heel'.
87
Fifteen
New Enemy Tactics the Luftwaffe had been mingling Junkers 88s in with the and Intelligence had indicated that they could soon expect to confront Ju 188s, a development of theju 88, with pointed exten-
Previously 190s,
sions to
its
wings
shortly after John
to give
it
a rather better performance.
and Jimmy had returned
to the
On
Squadron
1
October, after their
few days' break, a Wellington arrived, converted as a flying classroom to train them in the use of AI Mk X. The nights were getting longer, and by the end of the first week in October the Luftwaffe stepped up its attacks, giving the Squadron one of the busiest nights it had had for some time. The bandits came over in three waves of mixed aircraft: 15 in the first, 30 in the next, and 12 in the last. Jimmy had trouble with his AI that night, but as they were returning to base he got a faint echo drifting in at one side of the cathode-ray tube. He knew at once that the bandit was very close, and told John that something was coming in from the left.
Even while Jimmy was speaking, the bandit flashed past in front of them almost at the same height. John turned tightly to come in about 200 and dropped down below it in his usual style. Jimmy put and saw that it was one of the newju 188s. John pulled up the nose of the Mosquito as the bandit began to sink into his line of fire. But the enemy crew were alert, and before he could open up, the 188's under-gunner fired straight back into their faces. Three big 13-mm
yards behind
up
it,
his glasses
rounds came through the top left-hand side of the windscreen close to John's head, and the whole of that corner was sagging. The windscreen was completely opaque, and John fired blindly, waving the nose of the aircraft around in the hope of getting a lucky hit. There was no sign of the Junkers through the side windows as John throttled back to reduce wind pressure, and headed towards land. Jimmy had donned his 'chute in case the windscreen collapsed, and John asked for an emergency homing. John had collected a face full of little bits of glass, while Jimmy could feel the powdered stuff working its way down the back of his neck. 'You'd better have .my goggles', Jimmy said after taking another look at the
bulging windscreen.
88
New Enemy
Tactics
them over my helmet. I think there's a piece near my eye, but I don't want to disturb it' They crossed the coast and John, looking out from the side window, did a curved approach and at the precise moment straightened out for a ring of torches clustered around the smooth and gentle touchdown. 'All right', John replied. 'Stick
.
A
ladder, everybody wanting to know whether they were all right, what happened, did they bag one? John descended after Jimmy, smiling ruefully at the anxious faces, and said 'I was the victim of an unprovoked assault'.
The Medics
carted
them
off to Sick Quarters
where the
MO,
Flight
Lieutenant 'Rigor' Mortimer, gently pulled the tiny fragments of Perspex
from John's face with a pair of tweezers. One piece was embedded within a fraction of an inch of his left eye and, although John had been very conscious of it, he had refrained from rubbing or touching it. Meanwhile, Jimmy was shaking sharp fragments out of his clothing, right down into his socks. He was aware that his hands were shaking, and he made foolish little jokes to cover up his nervous condition and deter the eagle eye of the
MO. When Jimmy
left
Sick Quarters the
last
of the
was heading home, and gradually the rumble of the guns died down. Describing his emotions, he said, .the tumult within me - the disappointment at being baulked in our chase - the anger at being so easily shaken, the fierce exultation at being alive and well - slowly quietened as I stood there in that peaceful, moon-flecked lane. Roundly damning the moonlight, I set off to walk to the Mess in search of the
raiders
'.
.
precious egg.' short time later Jimmy became the first radar navigator to be the top British awarded the Distinguished Service Order, next to the award for military gallantry. His immediate reaction was that it struck him as ironic, because he felt that he was not performing as well as he
A
VC
should have done. However, other members of the Squadron had been decorated, and he was able to cast aside his doubts and worries in the party that followed.
In mid- 1943 the Luftwaffe was using the fast and elusive Ju 188 and Me 410 to draw off the RAF fighters, while other aircraft slipped through towards the target. Suddenly, the Squadron were finding that, when they closed in on one of them, it immediately took violent evasive action, and dived for home. It had done its job in keeping the Mosquitos fully occupied, and escaped. But the Squadron had become suspicious that the Germans had something new, because of these maddening evasive actions at the critical moment. Their suspicions were confirmed when Intelligence interrogated the crew of aju 188, which the Squadron had recently shot down. The prisoners confirmed that their aircraft were now fitted with a rearward-beamed radar, known as Neptun Gerdt. Crews felt that the Ju 188s - whether they had tail-warning radar or
89
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
not - could be dealt with, because the Mosquito had the advantages of speed and manoeuvrability. The Me 410 was a different matter, because its speed was more or less on level terms with the Mosquito, and the radar tail- warner provided a distinct advantage. However, the morale of the
Squadron was high, and
it
remained
in the forefront of night operations,
The Squadron celebrated its 50th night victory in November, when Hedgecoe and Bamford shot down a 190. Bamford, like others, had previously been on 604, and had come back enjoying the pick of the trade.
for a
second tour with 85.
John had long since lost Peter Green and Edward Crew, who had taken over their own squadrons, and he was constantly searching for experienced crews - especially those who had served with him previously. Second-tour men had the priceless advantage of experience, but this was no passport to survival. John Selway, who had been on 604 Squadron, returned to the fold and went off on his first operational patrol with
Norman Bamford, his old navigator. He kicked off in splendid style by afterwards
Bamford picked up aju
shooting
down
a 190, and shortly
188. Closing in too rapidly,
Selway
slow up, but the German pilot pulled the old trick of suddenly cutting his throttles right back. The German gunner fired, and by chance scored a hit with a 13-mm shell in the narrow gap between the resistant windscreen and the armour plating below, smashing through the instrument panel. Selway felt something hit him like a punch in the belly and he lost control, with his primary instruments out of action. Somehow, he managed to regain control, feeling sick and faint. Gritting his teeth he flew back to base, making a good landing, and walked unaided back to the crew-room. He discussed the affair flippantly, and was about to drink a cup of tea when 'Rigor' Mortimer snatched the cup away. When Selway started to undress, the chaps were shocked to see that his clothes were soaked in blood. Rigor whipped him off to hospital, where an emergency operation was carried out to remove the nose of a bullet in his liver. So ended John Selway's second tour of operational flying. As winter approached, the bad weather was upon them, bringing long nights and low temperatures. Diving after high-altitude bandits resulted tried desperately to
and engines which had been repeatedly flogged There were isolated troubles with airframes, and in countering the new German aft-facing radar. Jimmy had tried quarter attacks to come in outside the German beam, but in the process he lost the target. Closing in on that last half-mile to position for an attack was the problem, and the Germans knew it. They had seized on their advantage and also avoided moonlit nights, when they could be followed
in frozen windscreens,
were getting
tired.
visually.
Every crew had similar problems. 90
When Jimmy
lost
a blip, allowing
New Enemy the target to get too far
do and
on
his
Tactics
beam, he lamely
told John
what he had
'Well never mind', John said. 'Don't burst into tears.' Frustrations were creeping in. When they chased a raider and John actually got visual contact the windscreen iced up. Jimmy could see an Me 410 up there through the roof panel, which was clear. They flew on tried to
failed.
.
.
.
hoping that the windscreen would also clear, but then the enemy coast showed up through the side windows and they had to let him go. John was disgusted. Then a bout of influenza affected nearly everybody, including John, and this descended during the period when they were trying to get to grips with the new American AI Mk X. The first of the Mk XVII Mosquitos equipped with it had arrived, but there was a lot of work to be done before they could test it operationally. Moreover, John was to find out how fatigued their Mosquitos were when they set out on a routine patrol in early December. Soon after take-off he began fiddling with the trimmers and rocking the stick, saying that there was something very strange and odd about the aircraft. She was very slow and sluggish, and wanted to roll to the left. They both nearly strangled themselves turning their heads to look around the outside, until Jimmy spotted something odd on the port wing, just behind the centre section. It turned out to be the inboard flap sticking upwards at a grotesque angle, in the opposite direction to its normal travel. John gently eased the aircraft round in the direction of base, carefully losing height while keeping the speed down. Jimmy clipped his parachute on, hoping that John would not notice. They landed fast without John touching the flaps, and taxied in to find the ground crew looking glumly at the port flap, which was hanging precariously from the remains of one hinge. As they walked towards the crew-roomjohn gave Jimmy a strange look.
'That's the first time I've ever known you put your parachute on without being told to,' he remarked drily. Just over a week after the flap incident their tired aircraft let them down again. The weather in mid-December was bitterly cold, and they were flying towards their patrol beat, when the port engine vibrated so severely tnatjohn had to feather the prop and switch it off. John maintained height until he was quite certain of being within gliding distance of the airfield. He called up the Controller at West Mailing, who told him that the weather was OK, and that he would put on the 'canopy' of searchlights.
John put the Mosquito into a gentle dive, knowing that the coning searchlights of the canopy would guide him when they were switched on, and he would be able to come straight in to land, without having to do the usual circuit. The murk thickened up as they got nearer the aerodrome and John became restive, because they were down to ()()() feet and there was still Satisfied,
91
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
sign of the coned searchlights. He called Control, saying that he was approaching base. There was a slight pause before the Controller came back: 'Sorry, Two Four. There's a snowstorm right over us at the
no
moment' This put John on a spot, because he had little choice. They were too to bale out, and could not climb. They could not divert to their nearest alternative aerodrome, Ford, which was at sea level, because their route would take them over high ground. Jimmy got out his maps to search for spot heights and likely routes as they milled round, but at last John said, There's no future in this. We'd better have a try at Ford.' He set course, but suddenly Jimmy, looking back towards West Mailing, saw the aerodrome lights through a clear gap in the cloud in line with the flarepath. John turned back to starboard and dived through the gap, with solid clouds rolling past on either side and over their heads. Concentrating on the lights of the flarepath, he juggled with the trim, wheels and flaps, and got her down at speed, finishing up at the far end of the runway where he turned off- and so were the canopy lights. They could not taxi any further, because they could not steer on one engine,
low
and
sat there in the pitch blackness.
The
flight van searched for them but could not find them and John's voice was getting hoarse over the dying radio, while the apologies from the Control Tower were dying away to a whisper. The navigation lights were failing, and the temperature gauges of the remaining engine were creeping to dangerous levels until John had to switch it off. Then the cold began seeping its way into the cockpit, and chilling them to the bone. Even John's inexhaustible patience had drained away as he sat there fuming. In an outburst of rage, he shouted 'How much longer do they think I'm going to sit here and freeze!' Jimmy tore the Very signal pistol from its mounting and stuffed his pockets with cartridges. Disdaining the ladder, he leapt out on to the wet grass. Walking a few yards downwind he set up his own firework display, happy in the knowledge that they had again escaped the clutches of old Newton. However, the cascade of gaily coloured stars did finally bring
some
action
'at
the double'.
92
Sixteen
Winding Down Mk X The AI and bad weather
presented a challenge, which combined with frustra-
tions
to
make
life
difficult.
Jimmy's
first
impression was that they would have to breed a new race of radar navigators with three or four more hands to cope with it, as it bristled with controls. The confidential notes on this new AI started off by saying The points which particularly affect the method of operation of this Mark of AI are its wide azimuth directional cover, approximately equal maximum range at all angles off-centre, and the equal (and high degree of) accuracy of d/f [direction finding] at all angles from straight ahead to nearly 90 degrees port and starboard. Navigators who have had experience with Mark IV or Mark VIII before coming to Mark X will do well to consider the implications of these three great advantages.'
These technical notes were made a little more digestible by leading off with a quote. In the case of the Mark X: 'It works! Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!' The Tempest. Then, under the first paragraph, there was a cartoon drawn by David Langdon, depicting an operator with his hair standing on end, surrounded by knobs, buttons and switches. Underneath were the words - Great number of controls. This lighter touch at least brought a sense of relief when tackling the official technical notes - which of course were marked CONFIDENTIAL in heavy black type. Jimmy discovered that most of the controls could be pre-set during the night-flying test, although there were still a number to be located swiftly by touch. His description of the 'new tool' in operators' language is much easier to understand than quoting from the confidential notes. 'The presentation of the radar information on the new set was radically different from anything we had known in the past. There were two tubes framed in rectangular masks. The blips appeared, at ranges of up to ten miles, as small, roughly rectangular blobs on the right-hand tube, on which range and bearing could be read and relative courses assessed. A selected blip could then be transferred to the left-hand tube, which displayed
it
as
if
there
was a
large clock-face standing vertically in front
93
.
John of the fighter.
From
Jimmy whenever
could not possible,
to
able to continue with our technique of look in terms of clock reference.'
resist*
and
Cunningham
we were
this
where
telling the pilot
'Cat's Eyes'
injecting his
in so
own
particular style of
humour
doing he recreated the atmosphere of those
times.
Mk
'If the tube of our VIII sets, so often infested with whirling spirals of light, might be likened to a slice of Swiss Roll, the new Mark resembled more a piece of that sinister-looking cut cake, amber in hue and
X
sparsely curranted, sold by the NAAFI [PX / Service Shops].' It was not long before the radar mechanics were referring to the wads [sliced cake etc.] of their choice at their morning tea-break by Mark numbers: 'Cuppa char, love, and a Mk VIIF. The scanner of the new equipment rotated about a vertical axis in the nose of the aircraft so that it could see forward through the whole 180 degrees from beam to beam. It also nodded as it whirled around, and so could see above and below the fighter's line of flight; the angular limit of its nodding could be varied at will by the operator. This flexibility could be put to good use for cutting out the ground echoes when flying low, or following evasion at close range. The new Mosquitos were also fitted with a separate piece of radar equipment, tucked under the roof behind the pilot's seat, which enabled the aircraft to be guided by the ground radar beacons. These were installed all over the country to render suitably equipped aircraft independent of ground control for fixings and homings. Although Jimmy knew that the crews would need all their wits about them if they were going to make the most of the new AI, he felt that the day was not far off when they would be able to operate with a reasonable chance of success without any help from the ground. When that day came they should be ready to go on to the offensive with a vengeance, and tackle the Luftwaffe over their own territory. But for all these operations, over home or enemy territory, bold tactics were necessary Jimmy constantly preached that to the new navigators. 'Snap up your contacts', he told them. 'Don't hesitate turn in early and keep the target on the outside of your turn'. He stressed the necessity of trying to avoid the long chase. 'Keep pressing on it. Cut the corners, and don't slow up too much too soon. Keep right on into .
.
minimum range. Jimmy put his
.
.
.
.
.' .
heart and soul into his job as Navigator Leader, while at the same time he had to live up to John's meticulous standards. Radar interception was a fickle game to play, and new operators looked to Jimmy for their modus operandi. The RAF had been undergoing the its history, and the trainees came with every educaand background. Jimmy had had to adapt his style to accommodate the lively modern minds. His dissertation on the Mk X AI was an
biggest expansion in tion
94
Winding
Down
example. Having given them the benefit of his long experience in AI was always conscious that he had to prove that he had mastered the new tool himself, by helpingjohn to extend his kills. For some time pilots had been complaining that their hard-worked Merlin engines were getting a bit 'clapped out', and not giving them the extra boost to overtake bandits diving for home. The boffins, meanwhile, had got to work and came up with the idea of introducing nitrous oxide - laughing gas - to feed extra oxygen into the Merlin cylinders and allow more fuel to be burned. Heavy gas cylinders and pipes were installed in the belly of the aircraft, but the use of the gas was restricted to only a few minutes at a time. Things had been quiet over Christmas, but on 2 January 1944 the lull came to an end. They were still using their Mk VIII radars in their old aircraft, and John was patrolling over the Strait at 25,000 feet. Control called up telling them that there could be some trade for them, as a fast machine was approaching from the south-east. Jimmy was a little 'woundup', hoping that he would be able to give John a visual this time, having operation, he
some recent contacts. All his fears and inhibitions vanished when the Controller wheeled them round to meet the target, and a blip flickered on to his tube. They had a little height in hand as the bandit, going fast, took evasive action.
lost
Jimmy took note
of his style of evasive techniques and called out 'corner they began to close in. When they were about 3,000 feet behind, John caught a glimpse of the target's exhaust flames, and the bandit sensed that he had somebody on his tail, so he did a steep left turn and dived, weaving continuously. This was the moment when John turned on the 'laughing gas' and the Mosquito surged forward. The German was wriggling like a fish on a hook, having lost the initial advantage of speed. Jimmy had now got the timing for cutting off those desperate manoeuvres and they slowly closed the gap, while streaking back across the Channel. When they were getting close to the French coast the bandit, thinking that he was safe, began to ease up on his weaving and then his speed dropped off. Jimmy said, 'The blip on my tube came gliding gently back to where I wanted it. Twenty degrees at twelve o'clock, range twelve hundred one thousand and we had him cold! I was almost overcome with relief when John said in the middle of my patter that he could see it. I sat back and moistened my dry lips and reached for the night binoculars. There it was: a 410. The twin barbettes bulged on either side of its cuts' as
.
.
.
.
.
slim fuselage.'
They were very near the French coast when John pulled up the nose and pressed the firing button. Thinking that they were nearly home, the German crew must have relaxed, when suddenly their aircraft was lammered with cannon shells, exploding in dazzling flashes, before 95
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
down spewing out a great sheet of yellow flame. Apparently the Controller then confused John's blip with that of another fighter further to the north, and he gave John a homing vector which would have taken him deep into enemy territory. John chuckled and switched over to transmit. 'I think not,' he answered drily. 'I am at they went
present steering three four zero.' The Me 410 that they had shot down had crashed between Le Touquet and Berck, and this was confirmed later by the Royal Observer Corps on the English coast at one minute to midnight. Later they were to discover that John had fired only ten rounds per gun. This, his twentieth, was to be his last 'kill', because a few weeks later he was promoted, and posted to a staff job at 1 1 Group, becoming Group Captain, Night Operations. Jimmy was told that, if he wished, he could recrew with another pilot and remain with 85 Squadron. So, at the age of 26, John became one of the youngest Group Captains in the RAF. Jimmy had ere wed up with John Cunningham, as his gunner, in 1937, and during those eight years they had become a legendary team. John, labelled 'Cat's-eyes' Cunningham by the Press, was a national hero and had received a second bar to his DSO. On the question of night vision, eye specialists published a pamphlet and made it plain, in a non-technical way, that neither cats nor men can see in total darkness. However, by employing certain techniques, it was possible to make the most of a glimmer of light on the blackest of nights. Oxygen helped, as did vitamins, and it was better to search slightly from the side of the eye rather than looking straight at the target. Naturally the Press didn't promote the pamphlet - they wanted their hero. As the man closest to John throughout his Service life, Jimmy Rawnsley had been with him constantly, both in the air and on the ground. Flying an aircraft, especially in wartime conditions and at night, is a demanding business. Most pilots adopt a style and manner to meet the requirements of operating in a tough environment. Jimmy often referred to John's complete and instant switch from laid-back casualness to precise and demanding professionalism as soon as they were airborne. Sadly, Jimmy died in 1965. John had neither made notes nor kept diaries, and had only his flying log-books for reference. Paperwork was not his style, and he was far too modest to discuss his achievements. When this book was first mooted, in June 1998, nobody was alive who had flown with him during the War years. It seemed impossible to contemplate a biography. However, during discussions John handed over a book to the author, and said
HQNo
quietly,
'It's all
in there.'
Jimmy Rawnsley and Bob Wright, first published by William Collins, became a best-seller. Corgi Books took i. over, and it has now been republished by Crecy. Bob Wright ha The book,
Night Fighter, by
,
96
Seventeen
Farewell Party could always rise to the occasion, not only in the but also on John the ground. When he got the second bar to his DSO, and was about air,
to
depart to
him
giving
HQ Fighter
Command,
a hairy farewell party.
It
the
Squadron responded by midday session, during
started as a
to see him for the first time 'under the joined in by drinking his usual half-pint tankard of beer, but somehow the tankard kept being topped up with straight gin until it was clear liquid. John naturally rose to the challenge, and kept steadily working away at it, and by 3.30 had polished it off. Although a little flushed, but otherwise under control, he pulled himself together and said that he thought perhaps a little sleep was indicated. Returning to his quarters, to the Squadron's delight he reappeared in the Mess just after six, ready to carry on with the party and looking as immaculate as ever. At about this time his brother Bill had been awarded a DSO, serving with the Marine Commandos in Sicily, where he was badly wounded in the landings. So, the two Cunningham brothers had the rare distinction of collecting four DSOs between them. Meanwhile 85 Squadron, which John had handed over to Wing Commander CM. Miller, had been performing well. In Jimmy's words, 'trade was booming, and the new tools were just beginning to take on a fine cutting edge'. But Jimmy himself was hesitant about ere wing up with a new pilot. He didn't want to leave all his friends, but felt that he was not up to the job and was rapidly becoming a Navigator Leader in name only. Also there was new blood fit and ready to fill his shoes. He therefore accepted a posting to the Fighter Interception Unit at Ford, and for a while his partnership with John was broken. In March 1944 John was working on Staff duties at Uxbridge when Air Marshal Sir Roderick Hill asked him to go to Farnborough, in company with Group Captain 'Sailor' Malan, to fly the RAF's first de Havilland ^ampire. Malan was to check it out as a day fighter, and John to report ts potential for night fighting. This proved to be a momentous occar T 'i) orJohn, because jet propulsion was opening up a new era in aviation
which the chaps were determined table'. John
r
,
In
and John was a D.H. man.
May
1941 the de Havilland team, including their engine designer,
99
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Major Frank Halford, had flown up to Cranwell to watch some of the first Frank Whittle's Gloster E. 28/39 Pioneer. Their reaction was to
flights of
about designing a production jet engine of greater thrust, suitable for a fighter. While Halford started work on the Goblin engine, R.E. Bishop, their Chief Designer, began planning a single-seat fighter. The result of their labours was the diminutive D.H.100 Vampire, powered by a single Goblin jet engine. After climbing up ladders into the Beaufighter and the Mosquito, John found himself extremely close to the ground sitting in the cockpit of the Vampire. He almost felt that his bottom was scraping the runway as he sank down and landed. However it was basically a very simple machine, and he enjoyed flying it, although he confessed that he knew little about the workings of the Goblin turbojet. His basic comments were that, if the cockpit was extended to accommodate a navigator and more fuel was incorporated, it would make an excellent night fighter. Thus, John's old company de Havilland Aircraft was in the forefront as an extremely successful pioneer of jet propulsion and, in fact, a pair of the first flightcleared Goblins had powered the Gloster Meteor on its first flight! John had become heavily involved in planning operations for the forthcoming invasion. Fighter Command had reverted to its old pre-war title of Air Defence of Great Britain (ADGB), and was commanded by Air Marshal Sir Roderick Hill. The famous No. 1 1 Group, commanded by Air Vice-Marshal 'Dingbat' Saunders, was the most important group working within ADGB. John was primarily concerned with the organisation of the night-fighter force, which demanded a great deal of paperwork. This time, however, he didn't mind labouring away at his desk with the enormous challenge of an invasion of Nazi-occupied Europe becoming a reality. It soon became evident that he needed somebody to do high-speed tours of night-fighter stations, and to report on conditions, effectiveness, ideas, complaints, morale, and so on. Squadrons were being moved around so fast that the overall picture was changing from day to day. So he pulled a few strings and brought Jimmy into the act, thereby restoring set
their partnership.
Jimmy found that tension was mounting at the airfields, with everybody expecting the invasion to take place at any time, and wanting to take part. The Luftwaffe was carrying out spasmodic night attacks against assembly areas along the South Coast, and scattered raids further west as far as Dartmouth and Start Point in Devon. There were 1 7 night-fighter and intruder squadrons maintaining night watches to counter these raids, which cost the Luftwaffe at least 22 aircraft and crews. No fewer than 171 Allied day-fighter and fighter-bomber squadrons were crowded into fe§J south-east corner of England.
During the
first
few months of 1944, bombers and fighter-bombers had 100
Eighteen
Conflict Over Several weeks before the Germans launched their flying-bomb offensive, the Air Ministry transferred 85 Squadron to 100 Group Bomber Command. The Squadron moved from West Mailing
in to
Swannington in Norfolk, to provide a long-range night-fighter escort for RAF bombers. The objective was to infiltrate into RAF bomber streams on their way across Europe, and catch Luftwaffe night fighters as they came in to attack. Everybody was delighted at the thought of going over to the offensive, but, before becoming operational, navigators had to take a short intensive course to enable
them
to
make
long-distance night
While this was going on, on 13 June the V.l offensive started, and the Squadron had to return to West Mailing to meet the challenge of the flying bombs. John had been anxious about employing Mosquitos, because of wreckage coming back from the explosion when the flying bomb was hit. One of his former Flight Commanders, Edward Crew, and his navigator Warrant Officer Croysdill, had to bale out when flying at maximum speed when the nose of their Mosquito was split open. However, Crew (later Air Vice-Marshal) shot down 31 flying bombs, apart from recording 15 kills of piloted aircraft. He had served with John on 604 Squadron in the early days. However, by the end of August 1944 85 Squadron was back at Swannington, and once more enjoying high scoring in their bombersupport work. Apart from his desk work, John was making trips at home and across Europe visiting squadrons, and seeing for himself what was going on. Many of the pilots then flying the latest and even faster Marks of Mosquito had been selected and trained by John, when he commanded 604 Squadron. Both he and Jimmy between them had been a major force in building the structure of the night-fighter business. They were now reaping the reward of all their dedication and hard work over those years since 604 was designated a night-fighter unit. Neither would admit to anything other than that they had done the job required of them. Jimmy, for example, would not attend the VE (Victory in Europe) celebrations of 85 Squadron, because he felt that he had not earned the right to be there. 'So many of my closest friends were either maimed or dead\ flights.
103
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
he wrote. The fact that he had not been 'in the line' serving with 85 Squadron for some time probably influenced him. John explained that Jimmy had suffered frorrr migraine for some years, but wasn't going to be put off by these attacks. He recalled that the had said to Jimmy in
MO
the early stages of their partnership, 'Look, old chap.
want
to carry on,
I
It's
up
to you. If you
can't stop you.'
Reflecting on Jimmy as his partner, John said, 'I was extremely fortunate to have such a splendid character. Having previously been an electrical engineer, he had shown that he could make sense of the radar picture. were a team, and worked as one in dealing with the advances in technical developments. Jimmy gave guidance and help to new people, enabling them to follow what we did. He was a marvellous asset,
We
and
had complete
I
result
we
faith in
him
as
an individual, and he was
vital to
any
achieved.'
began to ease off towards the end of the War, John decided to take two weeks of the leave that was owed to him. After the heavy bombing of Croydon his mother had wisely gone to live with her elder daughter Mary in Ireland. Mary had married an officer in the Irish Guards, who sadly had been killed at the Anzio landing in Italy. She had been left with an infant daughter, and it made sense for her mother to live with her in the beautiful Culdaff house in Ireland's extreme northwest. John arranged to spend his leave there. He took an Oxford from the 1 1 Group Communications Flight with a friend who flew it back to Northolt from Eglinton, John having stressed 'Don't forget to come and get me in two weeks' time!' John went first to one of Mary's relatives in Londonderry, where he changed into civilian clothes. He then hired a taxi and perfectly legally crossed the open border into the Republic. He found the good living, the brightly-lit towns and the sense of peace a major culture shock, but loved gentle Donegal and returned to Northolt In
fact, as
the pressure
thoroughly refreshed. The Staff job that John had been carrying out from before D-Day to VE Day and beyond had been a fascinating and enjoyable phase of his Service career. It had given him the opportunity to continue his flying, and meet a wide range of people. When not flying with Jimmy, he often used Spitfires on his visits, and thought them lovely to fly. However, being John, he liked to get his hands on anything that he hadn't flown. As Group Captain Night Operations throughout the Invasion of Europe, he always had the opportunity to see for himself what was happening, and to meet the squadrons involved. To be up front and on the spot was essential to him. He dismissed any idea of rest or recuperation as meaningless. But he was by no means alone in this respect, because others pressed on in the same way. They simply could not survive in any backwater away from the action.
Soon
after the
end of the
War
in
Europe on 8
104
May
1945,
John was
Conflict Over put 'on attachment' to the Far East. A Group was being formed in Rangoon, to include a squadron of Mosquitos, to help recover Singapore from the Japanese. John said, 'I was to take Jimmy with me, and look after the actual operation of those Mosquitos, but not fly them. I had to take out a new Mosquito to a big maintenance unit in the middle of India at Allahabad. There I was to pick up another Mosquito provided with all the necessary operational equipment.' They took off from Portreath in Cornwall, and flew via Malta, Cairo, Baghdad, and across to Karachi. On their way from there to Allahabad, in August 1945, they learnt that the atomic bombs had been dropped, and that Japan had surrendered. 'The airfield outside Rangoon was deluged with water, and looked more like a seaplane base when we approached it', he said. 'There was no need to continue with the planned operation, because it was never launched.' After a few days the Japanese General came into Rangoon to give himself up to John's Commander-in-Chief, Air Marshal Saunders. 'That was the end of the War, for me, 'John remarked. 'Marvellous - we
were both delighted, but it wasn't the ideal place to be. The Japanese had removed all the fans, and there was no air conditioning in that hot and
humid atmosphere.' John explained to his and wanted
AOC that he was on attachment from
1 1
Group,
He was told that Rangoon was under the control Command, whose HQ was at Kandy, Ceylon, and
to get back.
of South East Asia
he would have to get permission from there. They were sedately conveyed across the Bay of Bengal in a Short Sunderland to Negombo, Ceylon, where they were met and flown up to Kandy. 'It was the first time I enjoyed the climate in the Far East. It was pleasant and not too humid', John said. 'That evening I went into the Mess for a meal and to my amazement and delight I saw Air Marshal Sir Ralph Cochrane, then AOC-in-C Transport Command. He was just as surprised to see me and said, "What on Earth are you doing here, Cunningham?"' 'I've come to get permission to be flown back to 1 1 Group.' Cochrane smiled and said that he was going back the following day, after inspecting his stations at Karachi and Cairo West. 'He then asked if Jimmy and I would care to join him. So, we took off in the Air Marshal's long-range DC-4, in which I had a proper bed in the rear alongside Cochrane's, and that
Jimmy
occupied a comfortable reclining armchair beside Cochrane's Personal Staff Officer up front.' Both men were looking forward to ciemobilisation and a return to civilian life. John had been offered a Permanent Commission in the RAF, but was also aware that de Havilland wanted him back as a test pilot. He knew that if he stayed on in the Service that he would become involved in Staff Courses and committees, and that gradually flying would become 105
John "Cats a
He
secondary occupation.
making
Eyes'
didn't
Cunningham
have
to
ponder and think hard about
his decision.
He was
very happv
once more working
RAF
at
the thought of returning
to
in the aviation industrv. D.H.
de Havilland. and of
had
tried to get
him
but the Service wouldn't release him. The Managing Director. Wilfred E. "Gold Block' Xixon. had written to him saying that the Company wanted him back. \\ nen he was at 1 1 Group Aubrev Burke, a director of the de Havilland Engine Companv. had come over and had a chat with him. saying that as soon as he was demobilised they wanted him to come to them straight away. John was about to return to a companv that had expanded enormouslv during the previous seven vears. It was always referred to as the de Havilland Enterprise, a name linking aircraft, engine and propeller companies, and D.H. companies in all parts of the Empire. Emplovees on the pavrolls at home and overseas had risen from 5,000 to 38.000. and an even greater number in other firms were dependent on work from the company. Turnover had risen from about £1.5 million to over £25 million during the last vear of the War. excluding the Governmentout of the
owned shadow
earlier,
factories
and D.H. -associated companies
at
home and
overseas.
In the Mosquito. D.H.
War
II.
Its
had created the most
usefulness doubted
at
the
start.
versatile aircraft of
World
7.781 of this multi-purpose
high-performance aircraft had gone into service, of which over 5.500 had been manufactured in D.H. factories in England. Total de Havilland wartime production, in fact, had been spread among some 100 factories. mostly situated in the Home Counties surrounding London. The Company had made a major contribution in providing training aircraft. Over 8,000 Tiger Moth primarv trainers were produced, making an invaluable contribution to the operation of the Commonwealth Air Training Plan. Over 8.750 Airspeed Oxford twin-engined trainers were built up to YJ-dav. Among many other things. D.H. had supplied more of the RAF's propellers than anv other firm, a total well over 100,000. In March 1044. John had flown the D.H. Vampire, powered by the Goblin, the first D.H. turbojet. Thus the Company was in the forefront of jet development, in which Britain at that time had a technical lead. Thousands of young men who had flown fast aircraft, such as Typhoons, Tempests. Mosquitos and Meteors during the War. wanted to earn- on flying. Competition for a vacancy in either the RAF or within the aviation industry was therefore fierce, and there was no lack of talent.
To a certain extentjohn was fortunate, because he had been on the de Havilland permanent staff as a test pilot pre-war. and by law he was entitled to get his job back. Wing Commander Roland "Bee" Beamont was not so lucky. He had joined the RAF in 1038 and during the War had been attached to Hawker Aircraft to help test-fly the Typhoon and later
lot;
Conflict Over
He then returned to combat flying, as a squadron and then command and develop successful operations with both and was awarded the DSO and bar and a DFC and bar. He was
the Tempest.
Wing
leader to
aircraft,
leading five squadrons of Tempests from the Dutch airfield at Volkel at the age of 24, and approaching the end of another operational tour, when Hawker Aircraft asked the RAF to release him on attachment to help
develop the Tempest. This move would undoubtedly have resulted in a permanent job for him as a Hawker test pilot. Unfortunately, he was shot
down
at this crucial time,
and spent the
rest of the
War
as a prisoner.
He
of course, the vacancy at Hawker had been filled. However, he was instead able to join Gloster Aircraft, and began test flying the Meteor IV. Later he was to work for English Electric
returned to
civil life to find that,
successors for over 30 years, becoming their famous Chief Test and a director of one of their companies. Bee's dedication to flying was much the same as John's. Talking about the immediate post-war period, Bee said, 'a jet engine had twice the power of a conventional piston engine, and over the next five years it was to become five times greater. This was to be an exciting era, and I wanted
and
its
Pilot,
Many
felt
the same.
Incredibly, the long hard
War had
to take part in
emerged
it.'
not affected John in any way. He an outstanding combat
as a highly-decorated senior officer with
record. Nevertheless, he hated the publicity
which had surrounded
his
achievements, especially being known as Cat's-eyes' Cunningham, and always brushed it off in the most disarming fashion. Although he was now more mature and experienced, his personality, manner, and style had not changed one iota since his early days with D.H. at Hatfield and Edgware. John was demobilised in November 1945, and rejoined D.H. on 1 December, at the age of 28. He explained that he didn't need a break, because during the previous two months he had made his farewells, and had enjoyed an easy and nostalgic time in which to relax. Back in 'civvies' he went to live with his mother and sister Mary, who after the War had returned to England and purchased a long white-painted house in remote Kinsbourne Green, in Hertfordshire. John had always been a countryman at heart, and the delightful period house, surrounded by acres of land and adjoining stables, was an ideal place for him to set up his quarters. Hatfield was only a few miles to the south-east, and the splendid village of Harpenden lay at the end of the little country road passing the house. Furthermore, he had his mother to look after his wants, which enabled him to concentrate totally on his new appointment as Chief Test Pilot of the de Havilland Engine Company. Geoffrey de Havilland Jr, CTP of de Havilland Aircraft, supervised all the test pilots, including those of the D.H. Engine and Propeller companies. John had no reservations about his appointment, and was aware that it was going to be a very full-time occupation. c
107
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
His first day back at Hatfield, which he had visited only briefly since August 1939, was a happy return. Tknew the people', he said, 'and many of them were still there. The old family spirit was evident, and I remember the first thing that Captain de Havilland said to me when we met. It was something like, "Glad to see you back in the old business". Despite the end of the War, the Company was still expanding enormously, with many new aeroplanes and tremendous possibilities ahead, as the world was wide open for civil and military aircraft. The years had gone by and I was back, but I knew that there was an endless amount to be done.' John was given an annual contract at a salary of £ 1,500 per year. Thus he was comfortably off financially, but in no way affluent. The immediate post-War era accentuated problems of fatigue and stress, when aircraft speeds were suddenly almost doubled. This increased the already high element of risk in test-flying, and many pilots were to lose their lives whilst pioneering the jet era. John always emphasised that test pilots do not do their job for money. He also pointed out that rates of pay throughout the aviation industry were not high by comparison with other industries. The family atmosphere at Hatfield, engendered by the Company's pioneers, pervaded throughout the organisation, and compensated in some way for the lower rates of pay. In any case, the aviation industry had a glamour and appeal of its own, plus the fact that it was ripe for ongoing expansion to cater for world markets. It was in this atmosphere that John returned to the family.
108
Back with the Family 1990 the Swiss replaced their last Vampires and Venoms with they presented John with the spade-grip from the control column of one of the retired aircraft, superby mounted on a wooden stand. In 1997 he was invited to Sweden to mark the 50th anniversary of their first Vampire, and was looked after by the British Air Attache. There were two Swedish chaps present who flew in their first formation of Vampires, all those years ago', he said, 'and I was delighted to meet them again.' Then, in the early evening of 27 September 1946, a dramatic event occurred that was to change his life. As he was taxying out to the end of the Hatfield runway to deliver the first Swiss Vampire, Geoffrey de Havillandjr took off in TG306, the second tailless D.H.108, to carry out high-speed runs over the Thames Estuary. The 108 was a swept- wing research aircraft without horizontal tail surfaces, evolved from the Vampire. Its prime objectives were to explore the tailless possibility for the projected D.H.106 jet airliner, and to provide information affecting
When in
Hawks
future fighter design.
'We took off together, Geoffrey in the 108 and me in the was going to Geneva, and would be there for a few days. Geoffrey, of course, was due to return to Hatfield.' Geoffrey's father later wrote, 'Geoffrey felt pretty certain that the machine had a chance of breaking the world speed record, which then stood at 616 miles per hour. It was arranged that he should try for the record in a few days' time, and I saw him off on a final test flight from Hatfield on the evening of September 27th. I was rung up at home later in the evening with the news that he was long overdue, and that an aeroplane was reported to have 'exploded' over the Thames Estuary. I dreaded the worst. At low tide next day wreckage was reported on the mud flats near Egypt Bay, just north of the village of Cliffe and north-east of Gravesend. Geoffrey's body was not found for several days, and then much further down the river.' John continues, 'Next morning I was having breakfast in the hotel reading the local newspaper Journal de Geneve before I was to be picked up. I saw the headline, "Test Pilot Geoffrey de Havilland missing", and I thought, "Oh dear"! That was the first I knew. Captain de Havilland rang later that day, and I told him I was needed for two or three days. He said, "Well, I would like you to come back as soon as you reasonably can. Not immediately. Do what you really must do".' John Cunningham knew the family well. Three years earlier Captain de Havilland's son John had been piloting a Mosquito in cloud, and collided with another Mosquito, piloted by George Gibbins. They, and their test observers, were killed. So the Captain had now lost two of his three sons, Geoffrey and John. Peter worked in the business but on the ground. When John heard the news about Geoffrey, he was 'sad, but I had got inured to those situations over six years, having lost so many of my comrades. One just had to learn to carry on.' John
said,
Vampire.
I
Ill
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Those who have not been involved in having to 'put their life on the might interpret John's words as indifferent or even callous. However, they reflect precisely the attitude of fighter pilots during both World Wars when their comrades vanished. They had to put it out of their minds, in order to carry on. Deep attachments were rarely made, while understatement was 'the name of the game'. line'
John's passion for flying in the pursuit of excellence has already surfaced time and again. It was the job that he had to do which demanded his total concentration
and
self-control. Captain, later Sir,
Geoffrey de Sky Fever. These two simple words aptly describe a contagious condition prevalent among those working in the aviation industry. When John returned from Geneva, the Captain, who must have been under immense strain, said quite simply, 'Please, I'd like you to take on Geoffrey's job. That means you'll be in charge of all the flying here. You had better go and see Nixon and get it sorted out'. John told Wilfred Nixon that he would be happy to take it on at whatever Geoffrey was being paid. It transpired that Geoffrey had been earning £2,000 per year. John had previously been on £1,500 as Chief Test Pilot of the Engine Company, and had two test pilots working with him. John's task was formidable, and there was little time to reflect on the sadness of his promotion. He fully understood the Captain's grief, because of his great respect and admiration for the de Havilland family. Geoffrey was quietly buried in Tewin churchyard, next to his younger brother John, and a plaque was placed in the entrance hall of Hatfield's main building in memory of Geoffrey and his death 'flying faster than
Havilland called his
own autobiography
man had
flown before'. Apart from having to take over Geoffrey's flying programme, John had to assess his team of test pilots, numbering over 20. T had to ensure that I had the right people, in the right place, and in the right job,' he said, 'and I soon found that some needed weeding out.' He had great - probably unrivalled - experience of crew selection during the War, and he wanted efficient and confident pilots who were balanced personalities, and could work well as part of a team. He particularly made the point that he would not have anybody who, to do the job, had to rely on alcohol.
Simultaneously, he had to become fully acquainted with the D.H. and diverse design, development and production programmes. The export market was booming, and the Vampire was selling worldwide. On the research side, the D.H. 108, employing a new high-speed wing and an uprated Goblin engine, was given priority. Within two years of the War's end it was becoming increasingly difficult to produce all the fighters required by Commonwealth, Allied and friendly nations. Thus production, as much as development, had been a Enterprise's huge
112
Twenty
From Sonic Bangs to Tragedy
On
6 September 1948 John Deny became the first pilot to exceed the speed of sound in a British aircraft, the D.H.108. Diving from 40,000 to about 25,000 ft, the needle of his Mach indicator reached and flickered at the 1.0 position (his Goblin engine was not capable of achieving such a speed in level flight). This was a superb achievement at a time of serious world tension. Only two months previously the Russians had closed all surface access to Berlin, which had become isolated except by air. The Berlin Air Lift was quickly mounted by the Allies. Allied transport aircraft had been landing at
Gatow every
three minutes in
good weather, and every
five in bad.
This, the largest aerial humanitarian relief operation in history, did
much
to further the development of air traffic control systems, as a wide variety of aircraft with varying performances had to be handled. London's new airport at Heathrow, at this time, was a relatively small operation on a gigantic sea of mud, with tented accommodation and a roped grass area for spectators. This period, reaching into the late 1950s, was basically one of world rearmament. In 1947 de Havilland had decided to cairy out a vast
enlargement of the Enterprise's productive capacity, and was able to reap huge rewards. In the the fruits of this expansion enabled D.H. Aircraft to instigate further development work, leading to the creation of the D.H. 106 Comet. Captain de Havilland, knighted in 1944 for his services to aviation, had started with a handful of friends at Stag Lane,
UK
Edgware, and seen it grow into the mighty de Havilland Enterprise, involving a tight group of companies and associate companies throughout the Dominions and the Empire. Many of its products were manufactured by D.H. firms or under licence in Canada, Australia, S. Africa, New Zealand, Switzerland, Sweden, France, Italy, and other countries. Thus the Company had a highly successful record in the production and marketing of its products, both civil and military. Sir Geoffrey had left the financial wheeling and dealing in Wilfred Nixon's capable hands, having no expertise or professionalism in financial 119
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
and development work, by John Cunningham and his team,
matters. All this, plus specialist design
pioneered and recorded in the air formed the strong foundation necessary for creating the world's
first jet
airliner. It is axiomatic that every increase in speed, flying to the limit and even beyond, creates problems. Speed is aviation's prime advantage, both in war and peace. It is vital for military aircraft, while passengers want to get to their destination as quickly as possible. As Sir Geoffrey pointed out. This is one of the invariable rules of human behaviour.' Naturally there was extensive Press coverage on major air crashes, especially those that took place at air shows. However, this did little to
diminish the public's fascination for the idea of supermen defying fearful
go supersonic. A great deal of publicity had been devoted to test during the first generation of jet aeroplanes. They had become the heroes of post- War aviation, in the quest for supersonic flight. Jet flights had captured the imagination of the public at large, even more than Formula One racing has today. The aviation industry was earning Great Britain more money from exports than any other major industry, and the Country had an overall position in jet technology unrivalled by any other nation. Test pilots symbolised this new age. The Press portrayed them in much the same dashing style as that given to wartime fighter pilots. Such an image actually misrepresented the test pilot, who was a cautious and highly-skilled man with an analytical mind, working within a technical society. Many of them in the immediate post- War period had been operational fighter pilots, but the swashbuckling image was not
odds
to
pilots
their style at
all.
a trail, creating new speed and But the general public had little idea what a test pilot contributes to research into aeronautical development, or of his daily routine. All are characterised by a high degree of professionalism and a sound scientific knowledge, enabling them to work closely with the 'boffins' and engineers involved in the project. The scientist Sir Arnold Hall wrote in his foreword to the book Test Pilots, 'Having myself known, worked and flown with some of them, I see them not quite as "a race apart" - though in some ways they are, particularly when facing alone the latest frontiers of our knowledge - but as enthusiastic, gallant, warm and highly-professional people, doing the job they like and
Given headline treatment they blazed
altitude records.
enjoy.'
Courage
A
is
obviously an essential ingredient of a
dictionary definition describes
it
test pilot's character.
as 'that quality of character
which
enables men, by overcoming fear, to encounter danger and difficulties'. John Derrv's supersonic plunge in the D.H.108 on 6 September 1948, when his Mach indicator passed the Mach 1.0 position, is an outstanding example of self-control and professionalism - continuing to dive when
120
From Sonic Bangs to Tragedy the aircraft
slow
it
was
difficult to
down and
The element
regain
of danger
part of the job he
handle, and having to experiment in order to
full
control.
was a constant
factor in a test pilot's career, and was doing. As explained later, John Derry and Tony pay the ultimate price some four years after the super-
Richards were to sonic breakthrough in the D.H.108. Of the 24 students who graduated from the 1953 course at the Empire Test Pilot's School at Farnborough, seven were killed in flying accidents soon after. The ETPS had been formed in 1943, and courses lasted for ten months, providing the Services and the aviation industry with a regular supply of specially trained men. Those who were selected regarded themselves as being extremely lucky, as there was no shortage of applicants! Companies employing test pilots naturally regard each as a member of a team, being in close partnership with their design and research colleagues, who occasionally flew with them. However, their prime function is to carry out detailed and exhaustive testing of aircraft, from the prototype through production. They shoulder a heavy responsibility for their company. The future prospects for each new aeroplane, representing a very considerable financial investment, is in their hands. It is incidental that they often put their lives 'on the line', especially when flying the barrier-breaking prototypes of future production aircraft. It can be argued that British test pilots were undervalued by the companies who employed them. John Cunningham has always emphasised that, so far as he was concerned, finance had never been a prime consideration. When taking over as Chief Test Pilot after Geoffrey de Havilland Jr was killed, he said quite simply that he expected to receive the same salary and contract as Geoffrey. This was a fair point, and typical. He was one of the top men in his profession, and could only have been regarded throughout his long test career as being 'comfortably off. Service test pilots were paid in accordance with their rank, so there was no question of any financial incentive. Test pilots are a special breed of men (and occasionally women). They are serious-minded, highly-professional, and wedded to the job they carry out. They have to fly very precisely, observe and record. They work in a scientific atmosphere stimulated in a technical sense, but utterly alien to any flamboyant attitude. Since the advent of the international air shows, test pilots are also expected to be highly skilled in demonstrating their product 'on stage', adding an extra dimension to the business of test-flying. In the UK the stage is Farnborough, and they perform as high-powered salesmen, presenting their product's flexibility and the limits of its performance to potential buyers. Thus the test pilot has evolved to become a senior marketing executive in a highly competitive scenario. Moreover, he has to perform within the confines of the airspace over the airfield to
121
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
in sight of spectators, yet never fly towards them - as did everyone before 6 September 1952 - requiring a high standard of positioning and
be
judgement.
John Cunningham wrote, '. .Those of us who had the privilege of taking part in these displays look back on the time from the late 1940s to 1960 as a period when a large number of new types of aircraft were being built, and pilots were learning how to display them effectively. Inevitably, .
there
was
between the different British companies, but equally happy relationship between all the pilots involved.' late 1940s John had been facing the most important chal-
rivalry
there was a very
During the lenge of his
was
to
life
in the birth of the world's first jet airliner. This great story
be a saga of triumph and
for the entire British nation.
The
disaster,
not only for de Havilland but
story of the
when
D.H.106 Comet began
in
a few people at Hatfield started to think about designing a civil jet transport aircraft.
late 1942,
122
Twenty-One
The Jet Revolution year 1942 had been a bad one as far as the War was concerned, but towards its end the Germans had been halted by the Russians
The
and Rommel's army was in full retreat in North had entered the War on 7 December 1941, and throughout 1942 Stalin had been calling on the Allies to open a Second Front in Europe. Nobody had any idea how or when the conflict might at Stalingrad,
Africa.
The United
States
end.
On 23 December of that year, the Brabazon Committee was set up in London to consider a transport-aircraft programme, and discuss the cateWar. It included was extraordinary, bearing in mind that there was not the remotest sign of an end to hostilities. Furthermore, Britain's desperate need was for more bombers and other combat aircraft, and industry was working at maximum capacity to provide them. Thus, the decision to convene such a committee at this gories of civil aircraft that Britain should build after the
the revolutionary idea of a civil jet transport. This
War showed exceptional far-sightedness. There were some underlying reasons why it was formed. The Gloster/Whittle E. 28/39 jet-propelled research aircraft had made its maiden flight on 15 May 1941, and in October of that year full information concerning Whittle's turbojet had been handed over 10 the USA for military application only. Back in March 1941, General Henry H. 'Hap' Arnold, Chief of Staff of the US Army Air Corps, had been on a factfinding mission in Britain, and was astonished when, by chance, he learned that Whittle's engine was about to fly. He was aware of British jet patents, and after checking out the Whittle project he was convinced that the British invention could become the springboard for America's entry into the Jet Age. Within a few months contracts were signed between the British and US governments for Whittle's W. IX engine (the stage of the
only one he had) to be shipped to the USA, and Arnold picked General Electric to build it, and the Bell Aircraft Corporation to create the aeroplane. Concurrently, all the big US aviation companies were working full-blast to produce Lend-Lease aeroplanes and engines for Britain, as well as building America's own rapidly expanding forces, as her own entry into the War no longer seemed remote. 123
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Meanwhile Air Vice-Marshal (later Sir) Ralph Sorley toured the US and on his return home urged that some British design capacity should eventually be allocated to transport projects. It was obvious to him that after the War the USA would be in a prime position to run the world's airlines, while impoverished Britain would be left with thousands of useless fighters and bombers. Sir Roy Fedden followed up this tour and found American hangars stuffed with modern transport aircraft. The DC-3, in fact, was to become the 'workhorse' for the Allies throughout the remainder of the War. All this information in report form was handed industry,
to the
Prime Minister.
Post- War competition
from the USA, via its thousands of transport during the War, was clearly going to be a major factor. aircraft developed Britain had a worldwide Empire, and the need for Imperial communications was paramount. The loads carried by British airliners comprised His Majesty's mails, plus a few special passengers and items of cargo. There was no volume passenger traffic. This was especially the case on longer routes, where any jet aircraft might be expected to operate. Moreover, British airlines were State-run. This tended to obscure the obvious fact that airliners, including those powered by jets, ought to be commercial vehicles subject to exactly the same laws of economics as buses or trains. Thus, the first of the Brabazon Committee recommendations resulted in the Avro Tudor, an aircraft exactly in the class of the DC-6, though designed not for 80, but for just twelve passengers. The fourth recommendation was for 'a jet-propelled mailplane', but by 1944 it was considered that it might be possible to carry as many as six passengers from London to New York. Later this concept was regarded as being too bold, and it was thought better to bring the design range down to only 1,400 miles, but to carry twelve passengers. Looking back from the end of the Century, such uneconomic ideas seem unbelievably parochial. During 1943 the scope of jet-propulsion activity was considerably increased, even in Britain. It was belatedly recognised that, as Whittle had written in 1928 and 1929, the turbojet really did sweep away the previous limitations on aircraft speed which were imposed by piston engines driving propellers. Very few non-German aerodynamicists had read the papers published openly in 1935 and 1940 by Busemann and Betz describing the advantages of sweepback of the wings and tail for delaying the sharp drag rise as the speed of sound was approached. Until 1945 none of them related this to the practical design of aircraft. If they did it was for some nebulous far-off future. It was in this challenging environment of new aerodynamics that a small D.H. team at Hatfield spent the first two years formulating unconventional designs and layouts, having been charged with meeting the 124
The Jet Revolution Brabazon IV specification. In May 1943 the Brabazon Committee had recommended, as Type IV, a turbojet transatlantic mailplane cruising at over 400 mph, carrying a ton of cargo, and incorporating a small pressure cabin for the crew.
The de Havilland firm was already in the forefront of jet fighter development with the D.H.100 Vampire, which made its first flight on 20 September 1943. Geoffrey de Havilland Jr, who had flown it, remarked on the uncanny absence of vibration, and how this phenomenon would reduce human fatigue on long flights. So smooth', he remarked, 'it was like driving a quiet luxury car off into the sky. I found l
myself tapping instruments to
What an engine The portfolio
make
sure the needles weren't sticking.
for airliners!'
of Allied jets during the latter part of the war consisted
of the Gloster Meteor, the de Havilland Vampire, the Lockheed XP-80 Shooting Star and the Bell P-59A Airacomet. Both the Shooting Star and
Airacomet were originally powered by British-designed turbojet The XP-80 Shooting Star had the D.H. Goblin, and the Airacomet engine was the GE I-A, based on a Powerjets (Whittle) design. Thus, Britain had a technical lead on turbojet development during this the
engines.
period.
The working
relationship between the two countries had been excelFor example, Bud Kelley, Deputy Chief Test Pilot of Bell Aircraft, delivered an Airacomet to the RAF in exchange for a Meteor, which Gloster pilotjohn Grierson delivered to the US Army Air Force. In order to help Lockheed get the XP-80 airborne quickly, de Havilland sent them the engine actually taken out of the second prototype Vampire, as there was no spare available! There was a generous interchange of key men in the industry on both sides of the Atlantic, as well as of test pilots and crews. Britain could have been even more in the driving seat of jet technology at the time. Jet pioneer Sir Frank Whittle estimated that he had lost at least six years, because of the total lack of finance and support for his engine. Had he received such back-up in 1929, he said, Britain could have had jet fighters and bombers in service long before World War II! The Americans lost no time when they received his engine: Lockheed had built and flown their XP-80 Shooting Star in the remarkably short time of 150 days. In rugby-football language we had passed the ball to the United States and let them run with it. They pursued military jet development during the post- War period, but when on 27 July 15)49 the Comet emerged as the world's first jet airliner, the Americans hardly took it seriously. They had been manufacturing a range of transport aircraft throughout the War, and there was a huge demand for these aircraft from airlines and military establishments within the USA and throughout the world. When the War lent.
125
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
ended the USA was in a dominating position to capture world airliner markets with Constellations and DC-6s, and later with Super Constellations and DC-7s. Furthermore, she had a mature and extensive internal network of airline operators, who had been able to continue commercial operations throughout the conflict.
126
Twenty-Two
The Birth of the Comet the Brabazon Committee should have been formed early That December 1942 was astonishing Equally remarkable was as
in
as
itself.
the belief that the practical problems of flying high
and
fast
could
quickly be overcome, and that a turbojet airliner was a feasible proposition. Captain de Havilland and his designers were to play the central role in pursuing this concept. Great Britain had been forced to manufacture
only military aircraft, and her commercial aviation was almost in a vacuum. The D.H. team concluded that it was going to be impossible to catch up with American propeller transport aircraft, and they resolved to lead the entire industry, by building the world's first jet airliner. In May 1941 de Havilland had made the very first study of a civilian jet-transport project, which later became a subject for discussion by the Brabazon Committee as Type IV. From 1943 the Company had been gaining invaluable experience in high-subsonic (i.e. just below speed of sound) flight with their D.H. 100 Vampire jet fighter, and in mid- 1944 Sir Geoffrey, recently knighted, presented a paper to the Committee on the prospects for jet-propelled commercial airliners. His proposals were endorsed, and some two months later the D.H. airliner design study was renamed the 'Vampire Mail Carrier'. It was tailless, and powered by three Ghost engines. In October 1944, this project was designated inhouse as the D.H. 106, and officially as the Brabazon IVB. Initially, during the early post-War period, it was felt that the jet's high fuel consumption would force it to be applicable only to short-stage operations, but the team at Hatfield thought otherwise. They believed that the longer haul was the correct field for the jet, and that this could be achieved with aircraft having large fuel capacity, and using longer runways. The British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC) and others had from the outset taken a keen interest in what the visionary firm was doing. Thus they were able to formulate their plans and requirements in consultation with the Hatfield team.
Shortly after the Invasion of Europe had taken place on 6 June 1944, team decided that a more conventional aircraft was needed, and began considering an airliner carrying not 6 or 12 but 24 passengers, and powered by four Ghost engines mounted beneath the the D.H. design
127
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
wings near the trailing edge. At this stage it was still devoid of a horizontal tail. Later, captured German studies showed that compressibility could be delayed by sweepbaGk, and modest sweep was added to enable the aircraft to approach transonic speeds. Two (later three) flying half-scale models of the proposed D.H.106 were constructed to investigate the behaviour of the swept-wing design. These, designated D.H.108, were essentially experimental Vampires with swept-back wings and no horizontal tail surfaces. Geoffrey de Havilland Jr had made the first flight on 15 May 1946, and had personally carried out the initial
research programme, making 5
1
flights
with
few problems. Friday, 27 September 1946, proved to be a day of triumph and sadness for D.H. Sir Geoffrey had telephoned the Corporation on some final item concerning the decision to go ahead with the jet airliner, and was told that detail design could proceed. That evening his eldest son was killed when his D.H. 108 broke up over the Thames Estuary. Geoffrey had been attaining Mach numbers very close to unity in the second D.H.108 TG306, and was about to attack the world absolute speed record. That evening he was going to fly near sea level at high speed as a prelude to his attempt.
John Cunningham, who took over from him as Chief Test Pilot, carried on with the test programme three weeks later, flying the first (and aerodvnamically slower) D.H.108 TG283. During the latter part of 1946, and throughout 194 7, John did all this high-Mach testing himself. Meanwhile a third D.H.108, VW120, had been constructed, and he made its first flight on 24 July 1947. This was designed for even higher speeds. Sometimes John made two or even three flights a day, and by the end of 1947 had over 100 in his log-book. Few post- War experimental aeroplanes flew as extensively as the D.H.108. Sadly, as described later, when delivered to Service use, both the surviving aircraft crashed, killing their
RAF pilots. John's schedule was always varied, including stalls using anti-spin parachutes to recover from inverted spins. He was conducting such a test during his seventh D.H.108 flight on 31 October 1946, when the aircraft went into an inverted spin. His anti-spin 'chutes were ineffective, because they had a fixed attachment to the wingtip instead of a swivel mounting,
which would have prevented their rotation and collapse. He managed to recover from the spin by making full use of the rudder and elevons, but the aircraft was grounded for several weeks for modifications. Other tests he carried out included powered controls, accelerations at 35,000 ft, cockpit temperatures and calibration, 'g' in turns, demonstration flights, and practice for the SBAC Show which at that time was held at Radlett, not far from Hatfield. The gearing of the powered elevon controls was adjustable from the cockpit, and John was not happy with this arrange128
The Birth of the Comet ment. In 1946-7 a full-size rig representative of the Comet control system was then set up in the factory, and operated continuously for three years before the Comet's first flight. This enabled the engineers to check the system's effectiveness in flight and durability well in advance. John also disliked the D.H.108's tendency to pitch oscillation, and apparent pitch instability. However, its clean lines and revolutionary layout produced an outstanding performance on the modest power of a standard Goblin. Thus, the machine was gradually probing into the unknown, and required expert handling and cautious airmanship. In any case, in March 1946 it was decided to abandon the tailless concept for the D.H.106 in favour of the more conventional unswept tail surfaces which later were to characterise all Comets. The basic reason was that the tailless configuration proposed for the airliner would have been uneconomical. During the 1946-7 winter an interesting experiment was carried out to check the ability of the D.H. 106 windscreens to shed rain effectively. This was particularly important in the landing approach at low speeds. It was discovered that the fuselage diameter of the War-veteran Airspeed Horsa glider was identical to the rear frame of the D.H. 106 nose. A mock-up of the proposed jet airliner cockpit was fitted on to a survivor of the 3,633 wooden gliders, which was then towed around coupled to a Halifax flown by Desmond 'Dizzie' de Villiers of the Engine Company. They searched for elusive rainstorms, with John in the left-hand seat. After completing the Constellation Pilot Conversion Course at Montreal's Dorval airport in December 1946, John had to gain experience of modern airline operations to prepare himself for testing the future jetliner. 'This kind of experience I lacked', he said. T had to understand what an airliner had to face up to, and I wanted to absorb and study what
BOAC
actually
went on
in airline operations.
flew as co-pilot in Constellations
on
I
donned
the
BOAC uniform and
five return flights across the Atlantic,
and two round trips to Australia.' He did remark, however, that in his experience RAF-trained captains had more finesse in landing and takeoff techniques!
John had an exceptionally heavy work-load throughout this period because, apart from his concentrated test-flying programme with the D.H. 108, his airline activities and experimental work, he had to oversee all test-flying activities as Chief Test Pilot. The dedication and skill in handling the experimental Vampires day after day required maximum effort and self-control. John would never admit to being overstretched. For him it was all part of the job. When asked how many aircraft types he had flown he looked puzzled. 'I've never counted them', he said. One must believe it. However, in November 1947 he was delighted to have John Derry join him from Supermarine as an experimental test pilot. Derry was well 129
John qualified to help
'Cat's Eyes'
him with
the
Cunningham
D.H.108
test
RAF pilot who got his Wings in Canada in
programme. He was an
ex-
He
served with Coastal Command, before joining the Second Tactical Air Force flying Typhoons on close-support operations. He was awarded the DFC and promoted to Squadron Leader in 1945. After commanding a Tempest squadron he flew a variety of fighters at the Central Fighter Establishment, before joining Vickers-Supermarine as a production test pilot. John Cunningham was well aware of Derry's capabilities long before he arrived at Hatfield. 'Deny was a very competent pilot and an excellent demonstrator', he said. T was delighted to have him with me, and we worked closely together on the D.H.108 flight-testing programme.' 1943.
John Cunningham had been flying the new D.H.108 VW120 since 24 July 1947, and resumed the high-speed programme, initiated by Geoffrey de Havillandjr, in September of that year. Deny soon joined up speed in dives until near-sonic Mach numbers were recorded. Each flight involved pressure plotting, a process during which special instruments measured the precise aerodynamic pressure all over the wing and fin area at various speeds and Mach numbers. Both Johns were making flight after flight in the patient and painstaking process of investigating stability and control, relative to approaching Mach 1, and perhaps going beyond. It was during Derry's high-speed flights that he was able to locate the cause of Geoffrey de Havilland Jr's fatal crash. He discovered that, when a high indicated airspeed and Mach number were combined, an unstable in building
pitching oscillation developed which was too rapid for the pilot to control
Geoffrey had been flying 'faster than man had flown low level. John Wilson (Ch. 29) compiled a series of flight- test reports relating to the D.H.108. These formed part of Henry Matthews' book, D.H.108 The Saga ofthe First British Supersonic Aircraft. The following reports by the two Johns give the flavour of some of the daily testing routine they carried out from Hatfield on the 108s: at
low
altitude.
before' at
Flight Date: Pilot: John
Aircraft:
31 October 1946
Cunningham
TG283
Objectives: Stalls; used anti- spin chutes to recover from inverted spin from stall.
John Cunningham
My
test
flown
recollects
(04/08/95):
programme was concerned with low-speed handling and stalls,
in the
inverted
me
usually
8,000-10,000 ft height band. The approach to the stall that was made with undercarriage and landing flaps lowered.
130
The Birth of the Comet As far instead
wing dropped rather sharply and nose and continued (dropping) to the
as I can remember, the starboard
ofTG283
rolling, it
dropped
its
The spin started and I had no
inverted position.
effective control,
use the anti-spin chutes fitted on each wingtip. I streamed
and decided
to
them and watched
them deploy - as soon as they filled with air they immediately began
to close
had no effect on me to try and recover
up
as they were rotating furiously in the wingtip vortex. They
stopping the inverted spin,
and I realised
it
was up
to
the
situation.
I do not rudder. I
know how I stopped the spin, but obviously made full use of the nose coming down from the almost level inverted spin
really
remember
and I eventually returned to level flight through the last half of a loop. I returned to Hatfield and landed with no damage to TG283. I contacted RAE Farnborough and told them about the failure of the spin chutes to deploy properly; on examination it was found that the chutes had a fixed attachment to the wingtips instead of a swivel mounting, which would have prevented their rotation and collapse. attitude,
Flight Date: 11 Pilot: fohn
Aircraft:
March 1948
Deny
VW120
Objectives: Qualitative
handling at high Indicated Air Speed - 600 mph.
Report number: W/23/48 These flights gave complete confidence in the aircraft at the speeds so far reached
(605 mph). The longitudinal pitching which was expected
bumps appeared the aircraft to
was
to be far better
to
cause trouble in
damped than at lower speeds. Even in bumpy air and never took more than 2 oscillations
quite comfortable to fly,
damp.
600 mph it is necessary to have the same M, i.e. 10.5 full turns from max. feedback, but the Servodyne is very satisfactory and completely accurate flying is possible. Mach number was 0.8 at 600 mph; the only complaint was heat in the cockpit. This is not so excessive at 600 mph, but bad enough to make one appreciate the necessity for cooling at speeds in excess of 640-650 mph. [Note: 600 mph indicated corresponds to a higher TAS (True Air Speed)] In order
to
pull 3
'g'
or so in turns at
feed-back setting as at near
These concise reports reveal the
lifestyle
of
Cunningham and Derry
during a research programme which lasted for some three years. Like their colleagues, neither presented the swashbuckling image of test pilots so beloved by the Press. Demonstrations, particularly at airshows, gave the impression of 'Dan Dare' characters in the cockpit, but the reality was utterly different. When they were 'on stage', test pilots flew their 131
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
order to sell them - or, in the case of research aircraft such as the 108, because the manufacturer was proud of it, and liked to show what had been achieved. -Their function was to take them to the limit regarding speed, controllability and manoeuvrability. Record-breaking could well be part of the job of a research test pilot. It was a b\ -product of an experimental and development programme. Establishing a world record automatically put man, machine and the aviation company on the front page. Such an achievement was good for business, good for the Nation and a morale booster for all concerned. Furthermore, the many world records achieved bv Cunningham and Deny were stepping stones in the process of giving birth to the Comet. The D.H.108. jointly owned by de Havilland and the Ministry of Supply, was a pure research tool. In August 194 7 John Cunningham had established a world record speed of 496.88 mph over a 500 km Closed
machines
in
Vampire I. Only some eight months later John Derrv was speed by over 100 mph in D.H. 108 VW120. On 23 March 1948. Cunningham had gained the world height record at 59,446 ft flying the Ghost-engined Vampire. This brought him the Royal Aero Club's Britannia Trophy, which he received in his ordinary white overall and Circuit fixing a
to increase this
leather flying helmet.
On SBAC
and 12 September 1948 John Cunningham flew VW120 at the Show, which was held at Farnborough for the first time. It was also the first occasion on which the general public were admitted. The weather was appalling', he recalled, Tt was raining, with low cloud, but VW120 was fitted with a revolutionary double-curved windscreen, giving me excellent vision, which helped enormously." The two Johns between them were to make 294 tests flights on the D.H.108 in 1946-50. Cunningham making 163, and Deny 131. In the autumn of 1948. TG283 was handed over to the Ministry of Supply, who sent it to the Royal Aircraft Establishment at Farnborough for testing the low-speed characteristics of the swept-wing design. VW120 was transferred on 28 June 1949 for research on the high-speed characteristics. Tragically, two Service pilots of the Aero Right at Farnborough were killed while testing the two machines. They were Stuart Muller-Rowland and Eric Genders, both Squadron Leaders, who had been promoted to command the Aero Flight. Muller-Rowland had been climbing: to make a transonic dive when he became unconscious, and it was assumed that he had run out of oxygen or had his supply disconnected. Genders was carrying out stalls when the aircraft entered an inverted spin. Only the left hand anti-spin parachute operated, and he was unable to regain control. In baling out he was struck bv the aircraft, and he was unable to 1 1
pull his ripcord.
Both men were well aware of the risks thev were taking;, as Geoffrey de Havilland Jr had been when he was doing his maximum-speed run 132
The Birth of the Comet low over the sea. John Cunningham often remarked that 'it was all part of the job\ Losing three highly-experienced pilots and their aircraft was particularly sad for all concerned, and the resulting Press comment generally ill-informed - cast a shadow over the D.H.108 experimental programme. The general public began to have doubts about such aircraft, and the price that was so frequently being paid in human life, bearing in mind that Britain was no longer at war. It was mentioned earlier that test pilots are a special breed of men. Chris Capper, who made 51 flights on D.H.108 aircraft, knew Stuart Muller-Rowland and Eric Genders well. Chris had joined the RAE Aero Flight in early 1949 (then commanded by Lt-Commander Eric 'Winkle Brown of the Royal Navy) and recalled that Stuart was infectiously enthusiastic about his work, and always willing to pass on his knowledge to the new boys on the Flight. He also remembered that Stuart was in the process of stripping and rebuilding the engine of his Rover car. 'We used to pull his leg a lot', he said, 'and occasionally put a few extra nuts and 1
bolts in with the stripped
components
to
cause consternation
when
reassembling'. 'Eric Genders', he said, 'was known as 'Jumbo', a very quiet, unassuming man - almost shy, but with considerable test-flying experience.'
These tragedies highlight the dangerous tasks these men were underCunningham had taken over the major role in the D.H.108 test programme from Geoffrey de Havilland Jr, with tremendous backup from John Deny, and latterly other test pilots such as Capper. Henry Matthews stated in his book, The D.H.108 was a demanding aircraft, and pilots chosen to fly it had to be extremely skilled, which is why Service pilots chosen to fly it were top graduates of ETPS (Empire Test Pilots' School) courses. The pilots of the D.H.108 included de Havilland Chief and Assistant Chief Test Pilots and RAE Aero Flight Commanding Officers.' John Cunningham wrote the book's foreword dated 1 May 1996. Ironically, it was on 1 May 1950 that Genders was killed at Hartley 7 intney, which ended the saga of this experimental machine. WTiile John Deny had been carrying out high-speed research on the third D.H.108, his boss had been concentrating on getting ready for the D.H.106 prototype. In 1948 he had brought in John Wilson as an experimental test pilot. Wilson had been serving with the RAF Central Fighter Establishment, who had sent him to carry out Vampire F.3 tropical trials in Singapore. He made three flights in VW120, and worked with his boss John Cunningham on the D.H.106, becoming co-pilot on the first flight. Every air-minded Briton knew de Havilland was building a jet airliner, which in December 1947 had been named Comet - repeating the name of the D.H.88 of 1934 - but the Company was almost paranoid about secrecy. Even as late as April 1949, when Comet prototype 06001 was externally complete in the erecting shop, not a vestige of its appearance taking. John
W
133
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
had been made public. All the Company's glossy magazine de Havilland Gazette had to say in that month was The time has come when some preliminary information -about the projected [author's italics] jet airliner may be released design details must be kept from competition while the leeway of the War years is made up'. The brief account also warned against 'a protracted publicity campaign that might give the impression that the type was materialising only with considerable difficulty'. Less than three months later the Comet was in the sky. Gleaming in its pristine unpainted state, with the B-Conditions (British experimental aircraft) marking G-5-1, what was probably the country's most important single aircraft was rolled out secretly on 25 July. From its perfectly streamlined nose to the graceful unswept tail it abounded in new features. The broad wings had a thickness/chord ratio of 1 1 per cent, significantly thinner than the wings of previous airliners, and a sweepback at the V4-chord line of 20°. Because of the sharp taper this made the trailing edge almost straight. On the wings were huge plain flaps, and ailerons which, like the tail controls, were unusual in being fully powered, by duplicated Lockheed Servodyne units in three independent hydraulic systems called Red, Blue and Yellow. Designed for 2+2 seating, the fuselage had a perfectly circular crosssection in order to bear the unprecedented pressurisation. This cut in as the aircraft climbed, maintaining a comfortable interior while the sky above progressively darkened until it almost resembled that at night. This wholly new experience for passengers belied the fact that at 40,000 ft (12,192 m) the outside was lethal, not only almost devoid of oxygen but at minus 70°C. Thus, not only did the Comet's environmental system have to be of a totally new order, but every part of the fuselage design had to be meticulously checked, tested and rechecked. Avoidance of leaks was assisted by replacing millions of rivets with a metal-to-metal bonding system called Redux. This had been proved in countless airframe parts of such aircraft as the Hornet and the Dove. At the roots of the wing were bulges housing the four D.H. Ghost turbojets, each giving 5,050 lb of thrust at take-off. They were in the centre between the widely-spaced spars, with long ducts from the oval inlets in the leading edge and circular pipes leading to the jet nozzles just behind the trailing edge. Between the two nozzles on each side were pointed fairings where it was planned to install de Havilland Sprite rocket engines to boost thrust at hot or high-altitude airports. Under the engines were large doors giving perfect access to maintenance staff standing on the ground. Redux bonding also helped avoid leaks in the huge space between the spars, which was simply carefully sealed and then filled with fuel, with no need for the usual addition of rubberised-fabric tanks. Here again the Comet broke totally new ground. Over 20 tons (6,050 gal, 7,266 US gal, 27,500 litres) of kerosene could be loaded in 20 minutes through .
.
.
134
The Birth of the Comet The thrilling career of the first of all the world's jet airliners had commenced, carrying with it the name of de Havilland across the globe. John Cunningham, who was to be primarily responsible for its challenging and highly specialised testing, received star treatment whenever he emerged from it. The entire British people, particularly, were delighted to renew their acquaintance with 'Cat's-eyes' Cunningham, who had been so renowned during the War. His good looks and unassuming style made him an ideal subject for photographers and publicists. Although he was about to achieve new dimensions of fame and personal achievement, he remained as constant as the Northern Star, always retaining his modesty and self-control after undertaking long flights and breaking records. Record-breaking had always been part of the Founder's strategy for promoting the de Havilland image. From the 1920s his mass-produced D.H. Moths had established numerous records and encouraged many thousands to fly. With the advent of the Comet came an opportunity for achieving world records in a totally new sphere. Compared with existing airliners, she could fly twice as high and twice as fast on projected airline routes, without the slightest vestige of competition. Three months after her maiden flight, and bearing civil registration G-ALVG, she made her first flight to an overseas airport, from London Airport to Castel Benito, Tripoli, and back, as explained later. Then, on 16 March 1950, 'Victor Golf set up her first world records flying from Hatfield to Rome and back. Her outward trip took 1 hour 55 mins 37 sees, establishing a C-l (Class 1) point-to-point record with an average speed of 447.246 mph. The return flight took 1 hour 48 min 4 sec at an average speed of 453.296 mph - another C-l record. She had on board the Permanent Secretary at the Ministry of Supply, Sir Archibald Rowlands, together with other senior civil servants and Government officials, making it a first-class public-relations exercise!
Later, the Comet was to attract the rich and famous to enjoy the experience of a lifetime flying in this remarkable machine, and to be photographed on the steps leading up to its elegant fuselage. Today, millions of people travel by jet airliner without giving it a thought. Concorde is the only airliner to match the Comet's fame, offering regular supersonic flight services, together with special trips for those whose special ambition is to fly in Concorde and go through the sound barrier. This was an Anglo/French project, and the Americans still have no super sonic jet airliner. Half a century ago, to fly by Comet was an even more revolutionary experience, to be shared with one's family and friends. To fly at 500 miles an hour eight miles above the Earth seemed almost unbelievable. Never before had passengers sat so remote from our Earth and travelled so fast and so smoothly. On 6-1 1 September 1949, John Cunningham and his crew took Victor
139
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
Golf to the tenth SBAC Air Show, again held at Farnborough. Her appearance proved to be the most exciting event of the show, where there were representatives from at least 15 major airlines. Charles Gardner, the BBC Air Commentator, spoke into his microphone as the throttled-back Comet almost silently passed overhead saving, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, when you look at the Comet, you look at the bright future of air travel. This quiet, vibrationless, civilian jet aircraft with twice the cruising speed of current piston-engined airliners, and using less-flammable, lowerpriced fuel, was hailed as a world-beater. Furthermore, in January 1949 the Government had announced that the British Overseas Airways Corporation could in future order its aircraft directly from aircraft manufacturers. Hitherto, the Ministrv of Supply had acted as agents for orders from the Corporations or the Ministry of Civil Aviation. Immediately after its triumphant debut at Farnborough, the Comet carried out a series of high-speed proving flights to check fuel consumption under airline conditions, and to establish 1
records. It is interesting to record that at this particular show, in 1949, de Havilland were well represented. In addition to achieving a 'first' with the appearance of the Comet, the Company's Chipmunks. Dove. D.H.I 13 Vampire night fighter. D.H.103 Sea Hornet and D.H.I 12 Venom were on displav. All these aircraft came under the umbrella of John Cunningham's domain. His fitness, resilience, professionalism and self-control enabled him to work seven davs a week as an ongoing schedule. This alone set him apart from others, and contributed to his legendarv status. In his autobiography Sky Fever, Sir Geoffrey wrote 'Testing a modern aircraft is an arduous and exacting job. Hundreds of flights are made, each flight being carefully planned to give specific information. In between flights, adjustments and small modifications are made. The cabin has onlv a few seats and is unfurnished, but is full of all kinds of instruments for measuring every aspect of performance. Testing a new type like the Comet usually takes about a year, and when the makers are as satisfied as thev are ever likelv to be - the technical staff would probably like another year or two John had a great gift for selecting his pilots. His wartime experience as the Commanding Officer of 604 and subsequently 85 Squadron proved invaluable both in contacting pilots whom he knew, and in selecting the right man for the job he had in mind. In 1948 he brought in Peter Bugge as a development test pilot to work with him on the Comet project. Peter was one of three Norwegians who had joined 604 Squadron in the winter of 1941-42 for training as a night-fighter pilot. Jimmy Rawnslev described him in the early days as. *A flaxen-haired giant, whose rare words emerged reluctantlv in a series of scarcelv audible grunts. Per
140
The Birth of the Comet (Peter) Bugge (pronounced Booggay) appeared to be unshakeable, and was always pleasant and most courteous. He soon made a name for himself as an exceptionally capable pilot.' Peter completed a second tour of operations with John on 85 Squadron, serving with distinction. After the War he became a civil airline pilot flying Lockheed Lodestars with DNL (Norway), before joining the Swedish airline ABA, flying DC-4s from Stockholm to Leuchars, in Scotland. John regarded him as a first-
with a fine brain. away another Peter he had known during the War, Peter Bois. He was flying with the merged Scandinavian airline SAS. Thus both Peters had substantial airline experience, including fourengined, which suited John's requirements, particularly with Comet development and its operational programme. Peter was to fly on many trips with John, as his co-pilot, and later became Chief Development Test class pilot
John
also lured
Pilot.
At this time John lived with his mother and widowed sister in his mother's house Canley, situated on the plateau of Kinsbourne Green, close to Harpenden. His mother had been brought up in a little village called Canley in the countryside outside Coventry, and she adopted the name. Later, in the early 1920s, the Standard Motor Company estabthere, and Canley became engulfed by surrounding lished its
HQ
factories.
John, who has always been a countryman at heart, was able to get away from it all and relax in the rural atmosphere at Kinsbourne Green. They had some Jersey cows, stables for his widowed sister's horses, and acres of land to grow produce in a landscape of trees and hedges. The house was a rambling, cottage-style property, with latticed windows, facing a green pasture high up on the plateau. A little country road led gently down to the village, which was on the route for Luton. John had many friends and colleagues living in the general area surrounding Hatfield, which was only a few miles away. He remembered bringing back small bananas on stalks for them from his trips to Kenya and Uganda. 'They were a lovely fruit', he said. 'Nothing like the bananas we buy at home. They were sweet and exceptionally delicious.' Being famous, good-looking, and highly successful in his profession, obviously made John an extremely eligible bachelor. John, himself, was keen to get married. He was about to become engaged just before he was sent out to Burma towards the end of the War, and on his return he found that his fiancee, whom he said was a sweet girl, had married a colleague serving in 11 Group. A little later, in 1947/8 John had another serious girlfriend. 'Unfortunately, it fell through', he said, 'but I still see her. She is now widowed, and we recently had lunch.' It is quite understandable with the sort of life John was leading that marriage would be an extremely difficult proposition for both parties. He recalled those times, saying in a 141
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
good-humoured manner, almost
a chuckle,
thought that on the third occasion
might be lucky!' But
as
we
I
'I
had
tried twice, it
was not
and
to be,
shall discover lateT.
Apart from other
flights during 1950, John added record-breaking with the Comet prototype to Copenhagen and Cairo. That year was the 30th anniversary of the de Havilland Enterprise, and also the year flights
which the Korean
in
displayed
War
broke
out.
At the Farnborough Show John
G-ALVG in full BO AC livery, with Peter Bugge as his co-pilot.
On 22 August
1950, John Wilson had made the first flight of the two-seat D.H.I 12 Venom, and this also took part in
night-fighter version of the
the
programme.
John Maynard, whose comments have already been quoted, had joined de Havilland in 1948 as an engineering apprentice at the D.H. Technical School. He qualified as a mechanical engineer, and worked in production at Hatfield. He remembers those times, 'as the peak of a golden age when everything had a rosy glow, and Hatfield was a marvellous place to be working. Working relationships were so good, and there was hope and confidence throughout. Sir Geoffrey was a traditionalist in some ways, who took great pride in the enterprise he had created, although some of his later aircraft were far from traditional, such as the D.H. 88 Comet racer, the Mosquito, and, of course, the Comet jet airliner.'
when the peak of its fame. His simple comments about
John Maynard's words portray
Company was reaching the Sir
the atmosphere at Hatfield
Geoffrey are incisive. Sir Geoffrey's great faith and belief in the
Enterprise overrode all other considerations. He had already lost two of his sons,John and Geoffrey, flying D.H. aircraft, and then his wife, Louie.
'Louie died at
home a few weeks later', he wrote,
'due,
I
believe, as
much
and Geoffrey as to physical causes.' While Sir Geoffrey was primarily concerned with design and engineering, he had a great love of flying throughout his life. An astute man, he never involved himself in financial affairs or administration, as he to the tragic losses of John
regarded himself as non-professional in that respect. John Cunningham remembered an occasion when he, Sir Geoffrey, and others had flown to Africa. 'We stayed in a country hotel', he said, 'and came down for dinner. Sir Geoffrey looked at us around the table and said, "I'm sure Mister Gold Block won't mind if I order a bottle of whisky. It is appropriate for the occasion!" ('Gold Block' was Wilfred Nixon, the Managing Director). Sir Geoffrey liked informal talks rather than formal meetings, but had to acquiesce as aircraft became bigger and more complex, which demanded larger meetings to accommodate more departments and people involved. 'The trouble with a big meeting', he wrote, 'is that some people talk too much because they like talking, and others talk too little because they are shy in a crowd.' 142
The Birth of the Comet
At Eastleigh Airport, Nairobi, in 1950John encountered the D.H.51 Miss Kenya. First flown in 1925 as G-EBIR, it became VP-KAA. Powered by an Airdisco V-8, it remains airworthy to this day. On John's left is Matin Sorsbie, General Manager of East African Airways, and on his right Sir Geoffrey de Havilland, who made the first flight of the D.H.51. (Peter Colmore)
John Maynard personifiedjohn Cunningham as the
man' operating in a highly technical modern society. Cunningham always concentrated on the work required of him as Chief Test Pilot. A complete 'action
professional, he always gave careful consideration to the job in hand. For
he took John Wilson as his co-pilot on the maiden flight of the Comet, rather than the more experienced Peter Bugge. He felt that if anything disastrous were to happen on that flight, then Peter was more equipped to take over. Undoubtedly, there was a special relationship betweenjohn Cunningham and his boss. When he was thirteenjohn had lost his father, and he hardly remembered him. He had then worked with Sir Geoffrey's sons and had become involved in the D.H. family background. It was hardly surprising thatjohn came to look upon Sir Geoffrey almost as a father. His real father, who had been Company Secretary of the great Dunlop Rubber Company, specialised in finance and administration, in stark contrast to Sir Geoffrey. Sir Geoffrey himself had a particular regard for John, and it was certainly odd that their birthdays coincided, and that the maiden flight of the Comet took place on that particular dav! Sir Geoffrey wrote, 'Some people have asked how it came about that the first flight was made on this day, and I have always had to instance,
143
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
say that I do not know. Recently I asked John whether it was "fixed" that or was mere coincidence. John said that, strange as it may seem, it was pure coincidence.' * John's character has emerged throughout this book and so, to a certain
way
extent, has Sir Geoffrey's. Their self-control and dedication have been mentioned on many occasions when highlighting specific events. This has been done deliberately to emphasise that neither of them changed his style or character, whatever the circumstances surrounding them during their long association. A key to their approach to life and habits lies in the fact that both symbolised the distinction of being labelled 'a
gentleman'. Certainly not in a snobbish sense, but as men who maintained an unvarying code of conduct. Today, people always refer to John as being the 'perfect gentleman'. There were certain traits common to both of them. Both had worked with their hands: Sir Geoffrey in his workshop at home and as a pioneer of aircraft construction; John as an apprentice and working in the D.H. Technical School. They were outstanding pilots, had a great love of nature and the countryside, and enjoyed their motor-cars. Both had the ability to co-ordinate and enthuse staff throughout the D.H. Enterprise, which was a high-tech business. John's experience dated back to the War when he was working with scientists and technicians who were developing the radar night-fighting system, while Sir Geoffrey had been an aircraft designer for many years, and understood the technicalities of aircraft construction. Thus, the two men had much in common, but essentially they were both 'very British', maintaining the 'stiff upper lip' in
triumph and
disaster.
144
Twenty-Three
Empire Days A JL
UK
from his busy schedule overseeing test flying, John was in contact with the D.H. companies in Canada, South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. 'I used to visit Phil Garratt in Canada, Rod
part
/\ JL
South Africa and Murray Jones in Australia', he said. were all great big men who had served in the First World War. Phil Garrett was a tremendous character. He had come to Britain to learn to fly, and fought with the Royal Flying Corps. During the Second World War he had shown great leadership in building up the Canadian plant at Downsview, Toronto, to manufacture Tiger Moths, Ansons and Mosquitos. He flew a Vampire in 1947, and apart from being a giant of a man I recall that he had huge hands. He liked his whisky, and his whisky glasses were so large that I had to use both hands to pick one up!' There was a very close liaison and understanding between the men of Hatfield and the Canadian Company. Martin Sharp mentioned that 'Phil Garratt would fly to Hatfield as readily as he would tell his driver Terry to take him to the Granite Club in Montreal'. After the War D.H. Canada was making Chipmunks, Beavers, Otters and Caribous. The Chipmunk, an elementary trainer, was adopted by the RCAF, and a further 988 were made in England for the RAF. The Beaver, a utility bush-flying machine for up to six passengers, was exported to 60 countries. The Otter could transport up to 14 passengers or carry one ton of freight. Both the Beaver and Otter were sold in large numbers to the US Army, and the Beaver to the British Army. Allan Murrayjones had headed D.H. Australia from 1931, and was another 'larger than life' character. John Cunningham had visited Australia at the time a road was named after Allan at Point Cook - the equivalent of RAF Cranwell - when he died. Mosquito production had carried on until 1948, to be followed by the Australian-built Vampire and the Drover, a three-engined light transport used for the Flying Doctor
Douglas
in
'Strangely, they
Service.
D.H. policy for the overseas companies had always been for them to serve aviation in their own particular country, and not simply to act as a sales and servicing organisation for the parent. The men who ran these companies made a deep impression on John Cunningham. They were 145
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
powerful characters imbued with a pioneering spirit from the early days of aviation history. Apart from- working in league with the parent company in the UK, they built and sold aircraft designed to suit the requirements of their own particular countries in the immediate post- War period and thereafter. The D.H. man who prepared the ground and visualised the possibilities and potential in Canada and South Africa was Francis St Barbe. He began by selling D.H. Moths in Montreal and Toronto, back in 1927. A small, dapper, energetic and decisive man, John Cunningham said, who liked his grog, 'he had a nice house and charming wife, but no family. He didn't fly, but his brother Sidney ran a number of old aeroplanes from Hendon during the 1920s and 30s, carrying out skywriting. Sidney had
been a
First
World War
pilot,
and was quite famous.'
Thus, the St Barbe brothers had both had commercial interests in aviation since the early days. In his book, Martin Sharp always referred to Francis as St Barbe. John Cunningham explained that it was always surnames in those days, or abbreviations, never Christian names. He recalled St Barbe asking his opinion regarding two prospective appointments for the Canadian operation, as they were people who had served with him (John) on 604 Squadron in 1940. No man is an island, and John was surrounded by colleagues who made an impression upon him and influenced his life. The seed of his youth had been nurtured in D.H. soil. Being one of the youngest Group Captains in the RAF, with an outstanding War record, had given him status. John would be most reluctant to admit it, undoubtedly pointing out quite forcibly that he had simply returned to his pre-War occupation. Nevertheless, it helped him in building his relationships with the pathfinders of the D.H. business, and their associates.
R.E. Bishop, the Chief Designer of the Aircraft Company, who had joined as an apprentice in 1921, was such a man. 'He was known as "Bish", a quiet man who was quite severe with his design team in that he expected the utmost and more from them', John recalled. 'A recent Post Office stamp issue commemorating the great aircraft designers included him. He designed the first all-metal D.H. airliner, the Flamingo, just before the War. The Mosquito, featured on the stamp, was a classic example of his genius at producing a great versatile operational aircraft. Then, of course, he led the team which designed the Comet. He learnt to fly before the War, and he was a keen sailor. I remember that Charles Abell of had great faith in him.' Naturally Bishop would have great respect for John's qualities of perseverance and dedication. D.H. had made special arrangements for John to fly Bishop's prototype Mosquito in Febuary 1941 before it was handed over to the Aeroplane & Armament Experimental Establishment at Boscome Down for evaluation. In 1946 Bishop had been awarded a CBE,
BOAC
146
Empire Days as a recognition of the
work he and
his
team had carried out in the devel-
opment of the Mosquito. C.C. Walker, Chief Engineer of the Aircraft Company, was an outstanding character who had been one of the founders in 1920. A down-to-Earth man with outstanding technical qualifications, he was Sir Geoffrey's closest friend on the technical side. A great humorist imbued with a strong team spirit, he was one of the pillars of D.H. society. He was always approachable, and those knocking on his door seeking technical advice would find him gazing at the carpet and drawing on his pipe while he listened. He would then reply in his deep slow voice, 'Well, take the case of a knitting needle a mile long, with a fly perched in the middle!' Characters including Sir Geoffrey, Walker, Bishop, Frank Hearle, and 'Gold Block' Nixon, were among the group of men at Hatfield who had been pioneers in the aviation industry and created the atmosphere at
D.H. which John found so amenable. Of course, younger associates of his were taking up key positions at this time. C.T. 'Tim' Wilkins, who became Chief Designer after Bishop, John remembered as an easygoing and delightful fellow with a penchant for the social life. J. P. 'Phil' Smith, who had shared accommodation with John when they first joined D.H., was appointed Wilkins' deputy, and became Chief Designer, Trident. These appointments were to allow Bishop more time to study new aircraft at the early
design stage.
John's associates and friends at Hatfield, who mostly lived in the surrounding area, were all aviation-minded and provided a social life for him. He enjoyed going out for a pint, or a meal with a friend in the relaxed atmosphere of the Hertfordshire countryside. Naturally, the chit-chat had a strong aviation content even when John was 'off stage', but anything to do with flying or aircraft was always his passion in life. Part of his job as Chief Test Pilot had been championing the Comet around the world when he stepped out of the cockpit into the waiting scrutiny of the Press. He had taken the aircraft to Rome, Copenhagen, Cairo, Nairobi, Khartoum and many other cities on its various trials and demonstration flights for airline executives.
His daily life was onerous and demanding in every respect. For example, as a preliminary to the first flight to Africa he flew the Comet prototype to London Airport (Heathrow) on two consecutive days, carrying out a series of night landings and Ground Controlled Approaches (GCAs) in mixed October weather. This was done in order
new
and its control procedures. Towards the end of these landings the Comet was operating in extremely bad visibility. On 25 October 1949, the day following these tests, he and his crew left Hatfield at about 9.30 pm and touched down on the illuminated runway to familiarise himself with the
at
London Airport some
airport
ten minutes later.
147
Then they
retired to bed, but
v
hn 'Cat's Eye-" Cunningham
am
thev were up and looking at weather reports and receiving naviand radio briefings Around 6 am. John dressed in a suit and tie. carrying his raincoat and briefcase, and climbed the steps into Victor at 4
gational
Golf, bombarded bv Press flash-bulbs. Pete Bugge was his first officer. Brackstone-Brown flight engineer, and Blackett navigator and radio
operator.
Thev took
06.33 in darkness and light ram. and climbed to ft, passing through tenuous cloud at 31,000 ft. Three hours and _ minutes after take-off thev landed at Castel Benito. Tripoli. A smiling: John, carrying his briefcase and looking like a genial businessman, stepped down into the crowd of photographers and journalists. .After a late breakfast thev flew home to London Airport for lunch, having been off at
:
to .Africa
and back
in half a
daw
Bringing ihe Comet up to airline standards was a continuous process in which John plaved a major role. The British public and manv around the world had sensed that the Comet was about to transform airline operations. At home thev were impatient for faster production to crvstallise Britain's lead, as John Cunningham's proving flights had demonstrated its potential as a world-beater. However, in practice it is not the public demand that governs production, but the airline operators across the world. Many had only recently bought their existing piston-engmed airliners, and in anv case, taking their cue from the USA. manv dismissed the Comet as 'uneconomic', saying there would be no profit margin from
Comet
operations.
However, de Havilland were ahead
game. First flown on 2 7 Jul Comet. G-ALZK. had been loaned to the British Overseas Airways Corporation BOAC on 2 April 1951 to explore the operating technique of the jet airliner. This was one of two Comets ordered bv the Ministry of Supplw and differed in several respects from those being built for the Corporation. The interior lavout was not standard, and the fuselage was not fullv soundproofed or furnished. v :r Frank Whittle - the inventor of the jet engine - was Honorary Technical Adviser to the Corporation from 1948 to 1952. He adwsed on numerous problems relating to jet routeing and performance. John Cunningham met him on several occasions, both at home and overseas in the Middle Fast and .Africa, when he was engaged m the statistics of route planning. Whittle himself had been a test pilot in the RAF and was a technical prodigw whose foresight in the 1920s enabled him to visualise aircraft flying at speeds and heights hitherto undreamed of. powered bv his totally new kind of engine: a gas turbine whose sole function was to produce a jet of hot gas. In December 1950 the first Comet prototype began flight-testing the -"
1
'.
precisely a vear after the
first,
of the
the second
definitive landing eear. with neat four-wheel bogies, but these could not
Empire Days be retracted without costly and unnecessary rebuilding of the wing. The first to have retractable bogie landing gear was the first production aircraft for BOAC, 06003, later registered G-ALYP. First flown on 9 May
was
1951, this
in virtually all respects similar to the eight
BOAC Series I
followed at close intervals. The first Certificate of Airworthiness was granted to G-ALYY on 22 January 1952. The first delivery to BOAC came on 4 February. John Cunningham flew 'Yoke Peter' on its delivery flight from Hatfield to London Airport in company with senior BOAC executives and his associates R.E. Bishop, C.T. Wilkins, and J.L.P. Brodie, a director of the de Havilland Engine Company. On 2 May 1952, BOAC opened the aircraft that
service. The first production aircraft, Yoke Peter, London Airport to Johannesburg, carrying a full load of 36 passengers with Captain A.M. A. Majendie in command. D.H. had been well aware from the outset that the Company had to develop the Comet
world's
first jet airline
flew from
provide longer range, greater capacity and perhaps higher speed to promote world-wide sales. The Series 1A, with engine thrust maintained at 'hot and high' airports by water/methanol injection, and further, to
Bigger engine air inlets show that this engines. John
posed with
the tiny grass airfield at
it
at Entebbe,
is
G-ALYT,
Uganda,
RAF Haltonfor
use as
in
the first
May
Comet
1953.
an instructional
149
to
have Rolls-Royce Avon
Many years aircraft.
later he delivered
it
to
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
extra fuel capacity, was the first stepping stone to this end (Roman numerals had switched to Arabic). Astonishingly, some two months before the BOAC inaugural flight to Johannesburg, John Cunningham made a successful maiden flight in the first Series 2 Comet on Saturday, 16 February 1952. He flew for nearly two hours at heights up to 25,000 feet and let down in the approaching dusk on the illuminated Hatfield runway. It had taken D.H. only two years and seven months after the maiden flight of the original Comet to begin testing the second stage in their jet- airliner project. This was a remarkable achievement, and was entirely due to the speed at which Rolls-Royce had developed its Avon axial-compressor turbojet. These fuel-efficient and more powerful engines (four of 6,500 lb static thrust) matched the increased capacity payload of 44 passengers, with freight and mail, in a slightly longer fuselage, on the world's longer stages. D.H. arranged to build the Comet 2 and subsequent versions at their large factory at Chester, and also at the Belfast factory of Short Brothers and Harland. To test the civil Avon, G-ALYT was completed with larger engine inlets and modified engine bays, first flying on 16 February 1953. The first operator to buy the Series I Comet and then place an order for the Series 2 was, of course, BOAC. The Corporation, under the chairmanship of Sir Miles Thomas, had done a great deal to bring the Comet
and had championed the aircraft amongst its often disbelieving international competitors. Further orders began to flow in following the Corporation's initial batch, once airlines could see that this was a real, firm programme. The first came from Air France, UAT, Canadian Pacific Airlines and the Royal Canadian Air Force. There were also others preparing to take options on the Comet 2, including Japan Air Lines and Venezuelan Air Lines. All was going well on the Comet front as the weeks and months went by following its triumphant debut. On 23 May 1952 there was a special Royal occasion when the recently widowed Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, Princess Margaret and Lord and Lady Salisbury joined Sir Geoffrey and Lady de Havilland for an afternoon tour of Europe. John Cunningham took them on a four-hour flight around France, Switzerland, Northern Italy and home across the Pyrenees. John got out of his Captain's seat on the way home to enable the Queen Mother to take the controls, with John kneeling beside her and Pete Bugge in the into being,
co-pilot's seat.
The Queen Mother was delighted with her flight in the Comet, and was keen to know whether they were flying faster than a Meteor fighter. She was due to dine shortly with No. 600 Royal Auxiliary Air Force Squadron, of which she was Honorary Air Commodore, and was anxious to be able to tell thern that she had flown faster than they had! John Maynard recounted an amusing story concerning the Duke of 150
Empire Days Edinburgh who was given a ride in March 1952. 'Visibility was bad as the Comet entered the final approach to Hatfield and, with the Duke standing at the rear of the cockpit,
John sought out
his various visual
These were the tower ofJack Olding's caterpillar-tractor approach factory, the large oak tree just before Green Lane, and the housetops along Green Lane as the lights of Runway 24's threshold came in sight. Behind him and peering through the murk the Duke suddenly saw the lights and the next moment they were down. "That was lucky", he said.' 'Luck be damned!', thought John, 'It was brilliant airmanship.' Peter Bois in the right-hand seat accurately read his boss's thoughts, and found aids.
it
difficult
not to laugh out loud.
BO AC
had started their Comet service on 2 May 1952 with four and by the end of September the initial fleet was completed delivery of the ninth aircraft. Early services had been booked with the for months ahead, and if there were any doubts about the practicability of jet air service the public did not share it. John Cunningham had watched the departure of the inaugural flight in the company of de Havilland's founder directors. He was highly conscious of all that had been achieved, and of the vital necessity of retaining the lead that Britain had secured. He had great confidence in the aeroplane, and especially in the knowledge that D.H. was developing a series of larger and more powerful Comets which would increase the lead-time over US competition, but John equally had a great respect for America's ability to
Comet
Is,
respond
to a challenge.
man who would ever discuss or reflect on his own contribution to any successful enterprise. In 1952 John was in his mid-thirties, and fast becoming a legendary figure in aviation. He knew that Government policy had become cognisant of the importance of jet transport since the end of the War, and that diplomatic aid to assist Comet sales across the globe was becoming more readily available. On proving flights and VIP trips, he melded into the ambassadorial scene, personifying the English gentleman with his good looks, quiet manner and cultured voice. The tone and pitch of his voice engendered enthusiasm in a casual and appealing way to those around him. There was no embroidery or sales patter. With his huge reputation, his words and He
is
not a
manner conveyed
sincerity.
He and
the
Comet became synonymous
world-wide.
had been talking about producing jet transports which might become available at some period between 1958 and 1960. He had many friends in the US aviation industry, including some of their test pilots. Test pilots are a fraternity and talk openly, even when they are in competition. A.M. 'Tex'Johnston, Chief Test Pilot of Boeing, had asked John if he could be taken up in the Comet, andjohn welcomed him on board. Tex was most impressed, and
John was
well aware that the Americans
151
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham i
trip when they got around to producing their own machine. This courtesy reflected the D.H. attitude, refreshingly open and clever. They knew that Tex would talk about his experience and the uniqueness of the Comet, which would help Comet sales to US carriers. D.H. could afford such a policy, because they were seemingly far ahead of the game. By a like token, BO AC championed the Comet to rival operators, though the Corporation had first call on each improved Series as it was developed. It was Wayne W. Parrish, Editor and Publisher of American Aviation, who blew the 'Clarion Call' in the States, saying, 'Whether we like it or not, the British are giving the USA a drubbing in jet transport. We've done our best to ignore their inroads on the prized world market, we've smugly acknowledged their valiant pioneering efforts, and we've thought up every sound, logical reason why we aren't prepared to have jet transports flying until 1958.' Parrish's article made hard reading to his American audience, especially when he reported that 'When Comet I appeared, the American designers and operators were dutifully critical. Comet I is not an economical airplane to operate. It has plenty of bugs. If de Havilland had operated in British tradition it would have fussed over Comet I for so long that it would have missed the world market. But de Havilland continued to build Comet Is and has sold the lot. Now it is building Comet 2, which will also have imperfections, but it is selling this lot, too. Next will be Comet 3. And then, by the time we are just testing our first models, de Havilland expects to be producing Comet 4, which will be a tried and tested production aeroplane combining all of the
promised John a
lessons
and development of earlier models.'
He went on
to point out strongly that the de Havilland sales blitz was not yet over by any means, and that the British would move Heaven and Earth to sell Comets to a US carrier. Ironically, on 20 October 1952, after prolonged negotiations, Pan American Airways announced that they had ordered three Comets of a more advanced development stage, the Comet 3. He concluded that the British challenge was no longer academic but very real, and that the USA was 'on the spot'.
152
Twenty-Four
The Gathering Storm The Farnborough
Air Display provides a great marketing platform companies, and an unrivalled opportunity for all those interested in aeroplanes to see 'the big show'. Saturday, 6 September 1952, was a public day, and Farnborough's popularity had reached a new peak with over 300,000 attending during the two public days - almost half as many spectators again as in the previous year. People had come especially to hear the exciting sonic bangs - a new phenomenon - and see the new white-painted Avro 698 Vulcan protofor aviation
bomber, which gave a superb display hands of Roly Falk. There were 35 aircraft (all
type, a giant triangular (delta-wing) at
low
altitude in the
British, of course) in the flying display, a high proportion of them new prototypes or experimental machines. No fewer than 27 of these aircraft were eventually to achieve production status and enter civil or military
service.
The weather had been bad, and on some days had delayed the flying programme until a more favourable 'break' after lunch. On Saturday the was packed
rows of people sitting close together on the hill to the South, overlooking the main runway. Ranald Porteous had been stunting his Auster Aiglet Trainer, finishing off with his stylish one-wheel landing, much to the delight of the crowd. John Derry had been demonstrating the black-painted D.H.I 10 second prototype, WG240, during the first five days of the show. WG236, the silver first prototype of this powerful twin-engined fighter had been first flown by John Cunningham on 26 September 1951. It was an outstanding machine powered by two Rolls-Royce Avon engines in a central nacelle, with a thin swept wing and twin tail booms carrying a high tailplane. The pilot sat on the left, under a blister canopy, while the navigator was placed lower down on the right inside airfield
to capacity, with
The RAF had issued a specification for a night fighter in 1949, and the D.H.I 10 was in competition with the Gloster GA.5 (which became the Javelin). John Cunningham regarded the 110 as potentially a world-beater, and certainly superior to the early GA.5. On the Saturday the black D.H.I 10 was unserviceable, and John Derry, accompanied by flight-test observer Tony Richards, had had to the nacelle.
153
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
go back to Hatfield in a D.H. 1 14 Heron to fetch WG236. Tony Richards had been crewing for Derry since late 1951, and in early March 1952 had
been the
first
British flight-test observer to record speeds faster than
The loudspeakers announced that the 110 had taken off from Hatfield. The atmosphere was electric as the test pilots ambled out of their sound.
marquee, while guests in hospitality enclosures eagerly moved forward. For a few minutes there was a hush with nearly 200,000 people gazing upwards. High in the distance a speck appeared, and as the 110 reached the airshow there was a massive sonic bang. On each of the days the black 110 had made several bangs, giving spectators an occasion to remember. Derry came past very low at about Mach 0.98 and pulled round in a tight turn to the left to cross the runway when the 110 suddenly broke into pieces. While hundreds of fragments fluttered down, one Avon jet engine arched over heading straight for the spectators crowded on the hill. A stunned silence was broken by screams, and then, after a shocked pause, the sounds of fire engines and ambulances racing towards that disaster area.
Derry and Richards were killed instantly, 29 spectators lost their lives, and 60 people were seriously injured by falling debris. This was a terrible tragedy for all concerned, and even more so for D.H., who had lost a brilliant test pilot and flight observer, due to a catastrophic failure in the 110. Of course, the immediate reaction, by the D.H. design and development team, was to find out what had gone wrong and rectify it. The stresses imposed on the structure of that aircraft, pulled into a tight turn at very high indicated airspeed, was more than six times over the norm. Sir Geoffrey commented that a wing had failed because it had presumably been overstrained previously. However, it proved to be really a problem involving flutter (rapid oscillation), because there was insufficient torsional stiffness in the wing. The next failure was separation of the tailplane. Following Derry's crash, official design requirements for aircraft operating at very high speeds had to be rewritten, and this was to have a considerable impact on supersonic fighter progress. Eventually the D.H. 110 became the Sea Vixen, a carrier-based naval fighter produced at the Christchurch factory. It was hardly surprising, in view of flutter problems, that the decision to proceed with the 110 was put on ice for several years.
prototype D.H. 110 cast a cloud over many of those The D.H. 110 was their machine, and it had very publicly disintegrated in flight. Furthermore, Derry and Richards were a great team. John Maynard said that Derry was a dashing sort of chap, good-looking, with a first-class War record, and was everybody's ideal, rather in the late Geoffrey de Havilland Jr mould. Tony Richards had been through the D.rl. Aeronautical Technical School and was utterly
The
loss of the
working
at Hatfield.
154
The Gathering Storm and unobtrusive, which veiled his eagerness for his work. Loss of such personalities to the Enterprise left large gaps in both morale and experience. D.H. asked in the National Press for information from anybody who witnessed the event. The response was a great influx of mail, including photographs. By a morbid coincidence Derry had written an article entitled, Test Flying', which was published in The Times Survey of British Aviation, September 1952, on the occasion of the Farnborough Air Show. He was captioned as Test Pilot of de Havilland fighter aircraft - the first reliable, quiet
British pilot to
not, as
is
exceed the speed of sound.' He wrote, The actual risk is believed, primarily one of structural failure but of
commonly
losing control over the aircraft or its moving surfaces.' However, there was nothing he could have done when 'flutter' induced a vibration which tore the wing off his aircraft. This symptom did not necessarily manifest itself at high speeds. Derry made a name for himself during the War flying Typhoons, initially during the liberation of Holland. The early Typhoons experienced flutter problems when tails fell off, sometimes even at cruising speeds when the aircraft was under no severe load. This condition cost the lives of 3 1 Typhoon pilots before it was diagnosed and
remedied. The sadness at Hatfield over Derry's accident was exacerbated because people remembered Geoffrey de Havilland Jr's death on 27 September 1946, when his D.H. 108 likewise broke up at low level. Both pilots had known precisely what they were doing, and accepted the risks involved. While de Havilland was attempting to go faster than man had ever gone before, Derry was carrying out a series of 'sonic bangs' purely to entertain the public. Derry wrote in his article for The Times, 'It is through the hard school of research and development, and, later, operational flying, that the new territories of speed can be made safe and comfortable for all the work is done by a team, and of that team the test pilot can be likened to a doctor who must diagnose his patient's malady by careful examination of his symptoms, by understanding and by experience.' Other aviation companies had lost aircraft and crews in the quest for supersonic speeds, so D.H. wasn't alone in this respect. But the break-up of the D.H. 110 came at a crucial time when the Company was embarking on the capture of world markets with the Comet. Also, the Farnborough Air Show was the big event for aviation executives world-wide. The media build-up for the Comet had been brilliantly planned and organised, to the point that it was a national crusade. Derry's last high-speed run, during which he was preceded by the awaited 'sonic bang', followed by the death or injury of so many spectators, was naturally the focus of .
.
.
worldwide media attention. It cast a huge shadow over those working throughout the organisation.
Upon
in
reflection,
155
D.H. it
factories
became
and
offices
the 'hinge of
John fate',
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
a portent of what the future held for this eager and successful
organisation.
John Cunningham had
and colleague. Whatever he felt beneath the surface he kept to himself. The War had inured him (his favourite phrase for this situation) to such losses, and he never let anything compromise the job he had to do. Quite simply he said, 'We had to find out what went wrong and put it right'. His only relaxation was to get into his new Riley saloon and forgather with colleagues at The Crooked Chimney. The D.H. house magazine Enterprise (price two pence in the old money, or less than lp) recorded the Farnborough tragedy, together with a lengthy and fascinating appreciation of the life and work of Derry and Richards, including the following: 'By the Queen's Order the names of Derry and Richards were published in the London Gazette on 12 September as "commended for valuable service in the air".' Alongside the article, under the caption Statesman and Elizabethan there was a picture of Mr and Mrs Winston Churchill boarding an Ambassador of British European Airways on 9 September 1952 at London Airport, to take a holiday in Nice. D.H. had taken over Airspeed, who had produced lost a brilliant test pilot
Predictably, he took the loss in his stride.
the aircraft.
was certainly Great Britain. Each Ambassador aircraft famous figure of the first Elizabethan era, and Winston's aircraft was Sir Francis Knollys. This gentleman (1514-96) had served Henry VIII before becoming a statesman and courtier in the service and favour of Elizabeth I. The Churchills were seen off by Peter Masefield, Chief Executive of BEA. Naturally, Winston sat in the driving In those days
was named
seat,
it
after a
taking the controls during the
flight!
The Ambassador had gone into service on 13 March 1952 under name Elizabethan, which BEA had bestowed upon it. Previously
the the
had been bolstered by men from Hatfield, including W. A. 'Bill' Tamblin, who became Chief Designer. Design work on the side-by-side trainer version of the Vampire was also being carried out at Christchurch. As part of the Enterprise the former Airspeed flighttesting unit came under John Cunningham's jurisdiction. Later it took over the challenging Sea Vixen programme. The Comet had undergone very few changes as a result of its test programme. The Sprite rockets eventually became available, and from May 1951 John carried out some spectacular tests from Hatfield with G-ALVG, but their use was wisely abandoned. In-flight refuelling was also considered, and John flew a Meteor IV to link up with a Flight design unit at Christchurch
Then in May 195 1 he flew G-ALVG fitted with a refuelling probe, but after flying the probe into the hose on a number of occasions it was not considered to be a practical operation for airlines. On 26 October, nearly two months after the D.H. 110 crash, the first Refuelling Ltd Lancaster.
156
The Gathering Storm Comet
accident occurred. In an aborted take-off at
Rome Ciampino
BOAC Comet G-ALYZ was damaged beyond repair, but there were no The Comet had failed to become airborne, and had overshot runway into soft ground. The Italian Government, with a British
casualties.
the
accredited representative, carried out an investigation which resulted in Capt R.E. Foote, being blamed for the accident. Bob Nelson, a former Air Investigation Board (AIB) investigator, wrote that in his the pilot,
decision was unfair to the pilot. John Cunningham carried out a series of tests at Hatfield. John Maynard remembered seeing him repeatedly roaring down the runway,
opinion
this
whilst raising the Comet's nose higher and higher, and then trundling back for another go. Cunningham's objective was to reproduce the conditions resulting in the Rome accident, and to establish both cause and remedy. As he said, T had to keep grinding my tail bumper on the
runway.'
Some
four
tion of the
later, on 3 March 1953, there was an exact repetiaccident, but this time with fatal results. CPA
months
Rome
A
(Canadian Pacific Airlines) Comet was destroyed on the airport at Karachi while on its delivery flight. John Cunningham, together with several de Havilland engineers,
became involved
in the investigation into the accident at Karachi, offi-
Bob Nelson, who was the representative of Apparently, CPA Captain Charles Pentland, with co-pilot plus four crew and six passengers, was in the process of delivering the Comet 1 A, Empress ofHawaii, from London to Australia to take part in the trans-Pacific service. Coincidentally, Pentland was attempting to establish an elapsed-time record for the England- Australia route. He had considerable experience as an airline pilot, but little experience of jet-powered aircraft. John Cunningham had fully briefed him on the Rome accident when he took the Comet conversion course at Hatfield. John had demonstrated the revised take-off technique, pointing out the absolute necessity of keeping the nosewheels down on the runway until the correct 'rotation speed' for take-off had been reached. Rotation speed was a new concept. At 0300 hours they proceeded to take off from Karachi, with a ground haze obscuring the horizon. This was to be the first night take-off in a Comet by the CPA pilots, and the aircraft was at maximum weight carrying Comet spares, and with full fuel tanks for a non-stop flight to Rangoon. Undoubtedly, their record attempt from London to Sydney must have been on their minds and put undue pressure on them. Also they were flying east, involving a five-hour time difference between London and Karachi. This produced jet-lag and fatigue, and may have been a contributory factor. Pentland proceeded to take off in darkness, and limited visibility. cially as technical advisers to
the British
Government
.
.
.
157
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
all Cunningham's instruction on the revised take-off technique overcome the nose-high problem, Pentland allowed the nose to lift prematurely on the take-off run. Realising what had happened, he got the nose down again and belatedly became airborne. But he was too late. The Comet hit an open drainage culvert arid burst into flames. The experts were able to obtain evidence of what had happened by studying tyre scuff marks and tail-bumper marks on the runway and in the sand overrun area, indicating that the aircraft had become airborne when the starboard wheels struck a low culvert wall and the aircraft crashed into a dry, deep and wide drainage ditch, exploding instantly. These two quite unforeseen accidents, the first at Rome, followed by the one at Karachi, highlighted the problem of take-off by aerodynamically clean jet airliners. Such aircraft had never existed before. In both cases the nose had been raised too high too early, resulting in a great increase in drag - arresting acceleration - and also impairing lift as a result of airflow breaking away from the upper surface of the wing. John mentioned that if the nose of a large propeller-driven aircraft was raised
Despite
to
too early the aircraft could still stagger into the air, because of the extra airflow over the wings generated by the propellers. By a remarkable coincidence, John had spent many hours in the cockpit with Captain Pentland. In 1946 he had been John's instructor on Constellations, when John had gained airline experience with BOAC. Shortly after Captain Foote had crashed at Rome, John had Pentland in the Comet at Hatfield to show him exactly what Captain Foote had done. T had the tail on the ground and he was in my right-hand seat, and I demonstrated what happened to the Rome Comet. I remember him saying, when I got the nose up too early, "Holy Jeez, how on Earth did the chap do that?". So Pentland knew perfectly well what not to do. Then what happened? About a week later he does what Foote had done!' On the following day John's telephone rang at 2 am, and he boarded
an
aircraft for
Karachi to participate in the investigation.
He
recalls:
'I was able to interview a BOAC Captain who had witnessed the accident from the base of the control tower. I then went out to the runway and saw where the nosewheels had come back on the ground and spun back in sand. I could see where they had left the ground again very near the end of the runway. It was pilot error - he'd over-rotated - no lights - no visual identification of what he was doing - there were no houses around nothing to give him a visual clue. He was anxious to get off too early - it was the same problem as Foote. After that I came back to Hatfield, determined to get back to this business of putting the tail on the ground and stalling the aircraft and not taking off. This was when Bishop did his soft-pencil drawing saying that we must droop the leading etlge. We had it made within 24 hours and applied it to
158
The Gathering Storm *
the Comet we had there. Thus I was able to have the tail firmly on the ground and hold it there until the aircraft took off. This became a standard test procedure that every jet transport has to go through.'
The revised leading edge, and instructions from John to Comet pilots regarding take-off procedure, solved the problem, and there were no further accidents of this type.
be expected that a revolutionary aircraft like the Comet would present new problems during its early operational stages. Nobody had previously thought that an airline pilot would pull the stick back, raising the nose, without having the necessary flying speed. John Cunningham It
was
to
made
the point that a propeller-driven aircraft could stagger aided by extra lift fed back from its props, while the jet had only its true airspeed to provide lift. Pentland's comment, when John raised the nose high before the required flying speed, 'Holy Jeez, how on Earth did the chap do that?', is indicative. Pentland at that precise moment was astonished. Yet he went ahead and did it himself, although in extenuating circumstances, where a total absence of external visual cues added further difficulty to the situation. Both accidents were the result of pilot anxiety or tension in getting the aircraft airborne. It could be argued that too much was expected of them in the early stages of high-tech Comet flying. John did not anticipate that anything like this would happen. He had pioneered the Comet, and had trained all the first Comet pilots, who to a man were experienced in airline operations. The reactions of Foote and Pentland had been psychologically induced, yet were non-professional, though due to lack of familiarity with pure jet aerodynamics. However, the modifications solved the problem of impatience on take-off. At the close of 1952, 48 Comets had been sold and options taken on a further 100. John was then busy carrying out tests on the Comet 2 to prove this version's superior flight performance over the Comet I. On 5 May he flew the Hatfield-Cairo stage, besting his previous record by more than half an hour. Later that year, the Comet 3 Series was announced at the Farnborough Show. This version appeared certain to become by far the most important development to date. This next-generation Comet had more powerful Rolls-Royce Avon engines and a stretched fuselage, and would be capable of carrying 58 first-class passengers, or 78 tourist passengers - more than twice as many as the Comet I - over extended-range routes. John flew G-ANLO, the first Series 3, on 19 July 1954. His crew comprised Peter Bugge, Tony Fairbrother, Edgar Brackstone-Brown and John Marshall. Higher speeds, greater payloads and longer stages were the result of extremely rapid technological advances, particularly in the case of more powerful and more efficient jet engines, and the operational experience gained with the earlier versions.
repeatedly into the
air,
159
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
GMT
At 1400 on 2 May 1953, the British Overseas Airways Corporation should have completed the first year of jet airliner operation in the history of aviation. The Corporation's Comet I fleet had operated successfully, and at a profit. However, some two hours before the end of that first year, the fates dealt the first of a succession of devastatingly cruel blows to D.H. and BOAC. At about 1200 on 2 May 1953, BO AC Comet G-ALYV, with a crew of six and 37 passengers including an infant, crashed shortly after take-off from Calcutta. There was massive cumulo-nimbus cloud surrounding a storm centre but, rather than detour, the experienced Captain, Maurice Haddon, decided to climb through it. He encountered very heavy turbulence, but he had almost reached cruising altitude when Yoke Victor went out of control and in a high-speed dive disintegrated as it fell to the ground in paddy fields 24 miles west of the airport. Everybody on board was killed. After scrupulous reconstruction, and detailed examination by the experts at Farnborough, it was thought that the tailplane had failed through excessive downloading, probably caused by a cumulative effect
GMT
of severe gusting and a heavy
commented
that Captain
manoeuvring
Haddon was
load.
John Cunningham
a splendid chap, but 'he
had no
weather radar, and quite clearly went into the storm centre. He may not have realised the importance of slowing down to rough-air speeds in violent storms, but the accident had nothing to do with any prior failure
With G-ANLO, the Comet 3, de Havilland produced a vehicle that it hoped would sell worldwide in large numbers. Here this beautiful aircraft arrives at the Farnborough airshow on 7 September 1954.
160
The Gathering Storm *
accident as a telling justification for in the aircraft.' John highlighted weather radars, which at the time had not been specified for Comet Is. commented that it was well-satisfied with its Nevertheless, exciting new aeroplanes, and with their levels of serviceability and this
BOAC
comparatively easy maintenance (easier than for their older aircraft). D.H. had established a world-wide network of distribution and service outlets. Two months after The Queen Mother had flown to Southern Rhodesia in a BOAC Comet in June 1953, John Cunningham flew
G-AMXA,
the
first
production
Comet
2 for the Corporation from
Hatfield.
Manager Martin Sharp,
writing later, 'As 1953 closed, jet propulsion had been firmly established in the airliner world, by one aircraft only, the Comet, of which there was an accumulated experience exceeding 30,000 hours. Comets were then flying 177,000 miles a
According
to P.R.
week, which could be visualised as seven flights round the world every seven days. Apart from the Rome, Karachi and Calcutta accidents, two of them disastrous but none of them mysterious, the record of safety and punctuality had been satisfactory.' It was to be expected that the first Comet would encounter problems, but there was general optimism that these were
now
history.
Comet
2 was a reality and the
Comet
3
was on
the way. All this relief and return of confidence
was shattered eight months later.
BOAC Comet I G-ALYP, the very first production Comet, which made maiden flight in January 1951 and famously inaugurated scheduled jet service on 2 May 1952, took off from Rome on 10 January 1954, and climbed en route to London. The air was clear but, as the Comet was reaching cruising altitude at 35,000 feet, something catastrophic happened. Yoke Peter disintegrated, and the wreckage fell into the sea a few miles south of the island of Elba. The remains were scattered over the sea-bed in water 500 feet deep, which made recovery difficult and salvage operations expensive. The BOAC Comet I fleet, and even the new Comet 2s, were - except for testing - immediately grounded. The Italian Government instituted a Board of Enquiry consisting of an air force general, two colonels and two majors. Bob Nelson, who had been involved in both the two previous Comet accidents, was appointed UK its
accredited representative.
John Maynard was working
and wrote 'There Elba accident. The Comet's structure had been more exhaustively tested statically, dynamically and in flight than any previous aircraft. Its various systems, some of which were revolutionary in terms of civil aviation, had been soundly proven and were duplicated, triplicated and more in the actual aircraft. It is no wonder that some act of sabotage was widely suspected. Nevertheless, more than 50 precautionary modifications were introduced in the hope
was near
at Hatfield at the time,
disbelief at the circumstances of the
161
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
of remedying a totally unknown and fatal flaw.' In total ignorance of what had happened, these modifications were essentially random. John Cunningham mentioned that another passing aircraft had seen fragments falling through the air, and its pilot was able precisely to confirm the location of the accident. 'By the grace of God', John said, 'the bottom of the Mediterranean in the region round Elba was sandy, so they were able to scan the wreckage with the aid of underwater television cameras, and recover scattered remnants with the delicate use of grabs and trawls. Incredibly, some 75 per cent of G-ALYP was recovered. It was unbelievable! They found some of the bits of the front of the aircraft embedded in the tail. There were imprints of coins from passengers in the tail, confirming that the tail was on when failure took place.' A few days after the Comet I fleet was grounded, John took the first production Comet 2 to its tropical trials at Khartoum. It took a man of his professionalism and vision to maintain the faith of others in the Comet at this time, particularly in view of the Elba publicity. Nobody could have been more valuable to de Havilland. In the event, the aircraft performed exceptionally well, and John was convinced that the prospects for this Avon-engined version were excellent. Meanwhile, on 23 March 1954, clearance was given for Comet I services to be resumed. However, the fatal flaw concerning Comet Is was, as John Maynard wrote, 'still unknown'. Some two weeks later, on 8 April 1954, Comet G-ALYY - Yoke Yoke - took off from Rome for Cairo on its way to Johannesburg. While climbing to cruising altitude in clear air there was again some kind of an explosion, and the aircraft disintegrated. The wreckage fell into the sea
south of Naples, near the volcanic island of Stromboli. This tragedy seemed to be a repetition of the Elba disaster. The crew of seven and 14 passengers were killed, and all Comet fleets were again grounded worldwide. The aircraft carrier Eagle, en route to Naples, flew off aircraft which located wreckage and even bodies floating on the sea. Again, Bob Nelson was the accredited representative. He went on board officials, including the Chief Eagle accompanied by several Medical Officer, Air Marshal Sir Harold Whittingham RAF (Retd). Whilst examining flotsam wreckage Nelson was called to the sick-bay, where he found Sir Harold arguing with a group of men who were taking flashlight photographs of the recovered bodies. A mixed group of Italian police and journalists had found their way on board. During the commotion, Nelson was able to enlist the help of the police, and they removed the film from the cameras. Meanwhile, the salvage operation was being carried out at the other crash site in the Mediterranean off the island of Elba, where Yoke Peter had disintegrated. The Royal Aircraft Establishment at Farnborough was
HMS
UK
BOAC
162
The Gathering Storm *
being greatly helped by the Royal Navy, and while the trawling was being carried out it was decided to fatigue-test a complete Comet fuselage at the RAE in a huge specially-built water tank. The plan was to subject the fuselage to simulated flight loads and actual pressurisation cycles (each cycle simulating one flight) until an area of weakness or structural failure revealed itself. Pressure testing to the point of failure, whilst the fuselage was being subjected to dynamic loading, had been considered in the early 1950s, as manufacturers on both sides of the Atlantic became increasingly concerned about the phenomenon of metal fatigue. D.H. Aircraft had carried out numerous tests on sections of the Comet fuselage, including cabin windows and antenna cutouts, but there was a feeling that these accepted practices might be inadequate for highly pressurised jet aircraft. The job of discovering the precise cause of the Elba and Stromboli catastrophes was given to the RAE. The Director of the RAE was Arnold (later Sir
Arnold) Hall.
He had
when he had been one
helped John Cunningham back in 1940,
of the 'boffins' working
on AI
radar,
and had
redesigned the gunsight for John's night fighters. Now he directed the test programme in the water tank. At 1,830 simulated 'flights', the fuselage failed. A big section of skin started to come away from the line of a crack starting at the corner of one of the square passenger windows in the side of the forward fuselage. While this testing was in progress, the RAE had been reassembling the thousands of pieces of the fuselage of Yoke Peter. Eventually it was possible to confirm that the crucial point of failure was an initially microscopic crack in the corner of one of the two square ADF (automatic direction-finder) flush antenna cut-outs in the top of the fuselage. A deep shock was felt by everybody as the news spread throughout the de Havilland workforce. It was a body blow, especially for those concerned with the original Hatfield tests which had included pressurisation up to twice the design pressure. The initial reaction was one of disbelief, but gradually the engineers began to understand, as Maynard recorded, 'that the company specimen test mock-ups had not been fully representative of production and operation actuality. In the first place, they were hand-made without recourse to press tools, and within limits and tolerances inevitably above the normal hitherto acceptable production specification'.
Maynard went on
to point out that, 'Secondly,
and more importantly,
had been subjected to pressure more than twice the projected working level in the courst of the long programme to prove structual integrity. Ironically, these higher pressures had themselves made the tests unrepresentative by bedding or firming down the various the test sections
component
parts,
and
actually altering the molecular structure of the
material to the extent of improving 163
its
fatigue performance. This
John
'Cat's Eyes'
phenomenon, not then appreciated,
Cunningham now
widely understood. Thus de Havilland's painstaking research programme had yielded optimistic results.' It was tough for de.Havilland that this new knowledge had to be learned in the hardest way possible. Thus, the golden horizon for D.H., when they were poised to capture world markets, had suddenly been wiped out. The Company was cleared of any blame into the loss of the two Comets, but all their progress and pioneering had been fragmented. John Cunningham, who had been primarily responsible for the aircraft's development programme, felt some relief in the fact that the 'unknown factor' which caused the accidents had at
last
been
is
identified. Also,
from
his
own point of view,
it
was
important that no criticism whatsoever had been levelled at the Comet flight-test programme. But it was the Company's US rivals who benefited, because the results of all the enquiries, and their conclusions, were published in the interest of aviation safety. Thus, the honour and integrity of 'The Captain' was followed through, even at serious risk to the Company being overtaken by its rivals.
164
Twenty-Five
Reawakening Following the belated discovery of the 'fatal flaw', the period of strain and
reflection
on the part of most D.H. employees was quickly
dissipated by subsequent events. John Cunningham flew to Canada to bring back the two RCAF Comet lAs to Hatfield for all cut-outs in their fuselages to be reinforced. 'I picked up the first one', he said, 'from Toronto where D.H. Canada had a factory. It was a question of either flying unpressurised or at two-and-a half pounds pressure. So I decided to make a short flight to West Winnipeg to prove that my height was adequate. I think I flew at about 25,000 feet. After their fuselages were rebuilt, I took them back to the RCAF, where they gave many years of
excellent service.'
was busy the whole time collecting Comets, including those from Air France and the French airline UAT, but I knew all the people, as I had been involved in training them.' Meanwhile, D.H. had built their own water tank at Hatfield for pressure fatigue-testing, and collating new information regarding the fatigue-resistance of pressure cabins. A structurally redesigned Comet was being prepared to meet all the requirements following the Court of Inquiry Report, which was published on 12 February 1955. This massive report was made available to the aviation industry throughout the world, and D.H. had discussions with British, American and other manufacturers, making their hard-won experience 'I
available to
By
all.
time everybody at Hatfield was looking to the future with an unswerving determination to rebuild their Company's great reputation. In mid-March 1955, a little over a month after the Court's Report had been published, D.H. announced the birth of its new jet airliner incorporating all the lessons learned, the Comet 4. The Company also projected that it would be in service with BO AC at the end of 1958. The airline ordered 19. Having brought Comet Is back from around the globe, John Cunningham had been heavily engaged in the Comet 3 test programme. The one and only Comet 3, G-ANLO, did not have the new fuselage structure, although this did not seriously affect its long series of trials. Thus, the Comet 3 enabled him to complete a great deal of development this
165
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Comet 4, long before the latter had been built. Comet 3 was crowned by a triumphant world On 2 December 1955, he took off from foggy Hatfield and set course
flying for the future
John's hard work on the tour.
by Bombay, Singapore, Darwin and Sydney, which 24 hours and 24 minutes. Then he flew on Zealand, Fiji and Honolulu, crossed the Pacific to Vancouver and New to went on to Toronto and Montreal. He then headed home across the North Atlantic direct to London Heathrow, arriving on 28 December for Cairo, followed
he reached
after
in a flying time of
covering the 3,350 nautical miles in 6 hours 8 minutes,
less
than half
the best airline schedule.
John said that he was extremely pleased with the wonderful reception he received wherever he landed, and with the aircraft's flawless performance. His objective was to demonstrate the potential of the Comet 4, and to convince the world at large that D.H. was very much back in business. Of course, throughout the difficult years production had continued on the Vampire and Vampire Trainer, Venom (single- and two-seat) and Sea Venom, Chipmunk, Dove and Heron, and development of the supersonic Sea Vixen. John's schedule on the tour had been very demanding, and, as usual, he had to cope with the Press wherever he went. He confided that he never worried about Press gatherings, saying, T used to fly them on various occasions. Arthur Reed of The Timesl knew quite well over the years, and he was a nice chap. So was Reg Turnill of the BBC. It was all part of my job, and one got used to it' However, with the advent of the Comet 4, de Havilland was no longer the sole pursuer of the commercial jet airliner business. Boeing, Douglas, Convair and France's Sud-Aviation were committed to entering the market. Boeing later invited John to fly the 367-80 prototype, which paved the way for their 707. 'The Americans', he said, 'had grave doubts that commercial jet aircraft would be successful, but realised the attraction for passengers. They were extremely interested to know all they could about our problems, and appreciated ^ery much that they had learnt an enormous amount from our failures and benefited from them, quite rightly.'
T went
where Boeing did their development work, and It was a straightforward flying machine, fly. I was very happy with the low-speed characteristics and stall. With its early engines I thought it was underpowered compared with the Comet, and the take-off and climb were not so startling. There was a magnificent fin and rudder, but the four engines were spaced wide apart, and I thought that an engine failure to Seattle,
flew the Dash-80 prototype. and a very nice aeroplane to
might not be so straightforward
to handle.
But
I
very
much enjoyed
the
experience.'
On 23 October 1956 John went to the USA where, from the hands of President Eisenhower, he received the Harmon Trophy for his contri166
Reawakening bution to jet transport - with particular reference to having flown the first jet airliner round the world in 1955. This is the highest American honour for services to aviation. Peter Bugge, his co-pilot on that world trip, later
became
development test pilot. In 1955 there had been discussions about changing the name of the Comet before the new series was introduced. However, BOAC felt that a name change would be undesirable, suggesting a lack of confidence, especially when those in the airline and in the factories were dedicated to re-establishing the good name of the world's first jet airliner. Also, there was little doubt that the public at large would take one look and say somechief
thing to the effect that 'of course, The financial burden carried
it's
a
Comet really'.
by D.H.
as a result of the
Comet
I
had been enormous. Martin Sharp recorded that Tn round terms some £10 million pounds of loss was involved on the manufacturing side - to say nothing of the loss of the benefit which would have accrued had the Comet I gone straight ahead'. By today's standards this would have been in the region of £ 1,000 million! The founding board of the Company was due for retirement, and it was hardly surprising that the winds of change began to blow through the corridors of power at tragedies
Hatfield.
Finance wasn't the only challenge, as there were exciting prospects in RAF Transport Command needed jet transports for a fast service to support the Woomera rocket-testing range in South Australia, to maintain what amounted to a regular scheduled service. Ten modified Comet 2s, originally intended for civil customers, were delivered to the pipeline.
G-APDA,
the first Comet 4, looked superficially like the Comet 3 but was heavier and more and upgraded from nose to tail. Crucially, the passenger windows and ADF antenna (black dots on the top of the fuselage) no longer had sharp corner radii. (Tlight
powerful, cutouts
International,)
167
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
RAF's No. 216 Squadron, and from 1956 saw intensive use. Other modified Comet Is went back into service, mainly on various test programmes. Rolls-Royce had further developed the Avon engine. which greatly improved the economics of the new Comet 4. Shortly after the Court of Enquiry's report, BOAC decided to standardise on the Comet 4 for all their routes except the North Atlantic. Based on the Comet 3, Comet 4 was half as large again as the original Comet I, more than twice as powerful, and could double the passenger content. It could fly twice as far, faster, and was greatly superior from an operations cost point of view. The Corporation eventually ordered 20 Comets: 19 Comet 4s, and a modified Comet 2E to provide initial experience with the new Avon Mk 524 engines. Rated at 10,500 lb thrust, these introduced thrust reversers (for use on landing) and noise-suppressing the
nozzles.
Almost a year
Court of Enquiry Report, major changes began to take place in the hierarchy and structure of the de Havilland organisation. On 1 January 1956 Aubrey Burke became managing director of the Aircraft Company, and Stuart Kennedy was made financial director after the
It coincided with the time when Soviet leaders Bulganin and Khrushchev were known world-wide as B and K, so Burke
of the parent company.
and Kennedy became the B and K of Hatfield! Aubrey Burke had previously been in charge of the D.H. Engine Company. In 1956 the design team were working at full stretch on the new Comet
Mk
4 for BOAC, the 4A for Capital Airlines of the USA, the stretched-body but clipped-wing 4B for BEA, and the 4C to match the original wing with the long body to combine high payload with longrange capability. On the military side D.H. continued production of the Sea Vixen, Sea Venom and Vampire Trainer. Suddenly, on 4 April 1957, an announcement took place which was to have massive repercussions throughout the British aviation industry. In the Palace of Westminster, Defence Minister Duncan Sandys stated that henceforth manned military aircraft were obsolete. Bombers would be replaced by Thor and Blue Streak missiles, and fighters would give way to SAMs (surface-to-air missiles). This totally disorganised the RAF. and virtually stopped the development of new combat aircraft. The English Electric P. 1 Lightning was the last type of British fighter. By coincidence, its Chief Test Pilot, Roland 'Bee' Beamont, made the maiden flight of the first Lightning on the day Sandys made his announcement. Fortunately for English Electric, this interceptor fighter had, said Sandys petulantly, 'already gone too far to cancel!' Hawker Siddeley had been so confident of an order that they risked £1 million of their own money in building a powerful supersonic fighter/attack aircraft, the Hawker P. 1121, unofficially known as the Hurricane. This became one of several cancellations, including the Saunders-Roe 177 and the Avro series: the
168
Reawakening 730 supersonic bomber, proving that the 'no more manned aircraft policy' was indeed to be implemented. It is fair to say that, with hindsight, it can be seen that this policy was wholly misguided. Its immediate result was to herald an era of take-overs and mergers within the crippled aviation industry. The Government had, in effect, stepped in to cut down dramatically the number of individual companies, saying it would in future place orders only with large groups or merged conglomerates. The policy was to affect the D.H. organisation sooner rather than later. Take-overs and mergers continued throughout the years, and since 1977 British Aerospace has been Britain's only fixed-wing aviation manufacturing conglomerate. However, the statement made by Duncan Sandys on 4 April 1957, that manned military aircraft were henceforth obsolete, was soon seen to be nonsense. In 1957 de Havilland had been considering the possibility of building a larger jet airliner for the North Atlantic crossing, to meet the requirements of BO AC from the mid-1960s into the 1970s. Having cancelled the British VC.7 in the same class, the Corporation had purchased a fleet of Boeing 707s, but for some reason was interested in a Comet successor to do the same job. D.H. began paper studies. Meanwhile, British European Airways (BEA), chaired by Lord Douglas of Kirtleside (whom John had known as Fighter Command's Sir Sholto Douglas), were considering the purchase of a small fleet of Comet 4Bs for their busy European network. Back in December 1956 Lord Douglas had said that the British Vickers turboprops would provide the basis for the BEA fleet in the 1960s, but that it might be necessary to buy a very few short-haul jet aircraft to cope with possible competition from big American jets appearing in Europe. This statement on future requirements for BEA proved to be wrong, as turboprops were later to be almost phased out - even if temporarily - and replaced by jet aircraft. In 1956 BEA announced a requirement for a jet airliner capable of carrying 100 passengers, a payload of up to 19,000 lb, operating from 6,000 ft runways over 1,000-mile sectors at 600 mph. Furthermore, it had to be faster than the very successful French Caravelle. That autumn D.H. came up with the D.H. 11 8, based on the new long-range jet thev had conceived for BOAC. This was followed by the D.H.I 19 and D.H. 120, neither of which satisfied either BEA or BOAC. There were endless arguments, and it seemed that nobody had any clear idea of preciselv what was required. Apart from technical reappraisals, the design range and the number of passengers the proposed airliner had to carrv was far from clear. This was worrying, because by now American, French and Soviet jetliners were coming into production. Then in July 1957 de riavilland proposed the D.H. 121, emploving three Comet-type Avon engines and carrying 79 passengers five-abreast 169
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
was striking, with all three engines in the tail, a high T-type tailplane and a low swept-back wing. This design was accepted by BEA as a premise for negotiation, and it seemed that de Havilland was well on the way to securing a large order from BEA, and a great potential world-wide market. But it was not to be. Government policy, as a result of Sandys' White Paper on Defence, had clearly stated that collaboration was the essential ingredient for all future projects, even civil ones. There was to be no compromise, and the Government was ruthlessly determined to force individual companies to form large groups, and the proposed BEA jet airliner had to meet these requirements even if it delayed or damaged the overall programme. As a result, firms played musical chairs to find suitable partners. The directors at Hatfield proposed a consortium for the D.H.121, comprising in a tourist configuration. Its basic layout
themselves as leaders building the fuselage, with Bristol building the wings, while Fairey and Hunting contributed as smaller participants. However, they failed to nail Bristol, who began talks with Hawker Siddeley in an all-out effort to sink de Havilland. This proposed but nebulous joint company offered the Bristol 200, powered by Rolls-Royce RB. 121 engines. Accordingly, de Havilland responded with a consortium comprising Saunders-Roe, Hunting, Fairey and possibly Handley Page. The contestants were interviewed by a Ministry committee in January 1958, when Bristol made it plain that they were not prepared to associate with de Havilland. There was no possibility of compromise or backingdown, because of the enormous potential in home and export markets. In August 1957 BEA had announced that it would order six de Havilland Comet 4Bs to fulfil its initial jet requirement. The swing of the pendulum was moving in D.H.'s direction at last, so in late January 1958 the Bristol/Hawker Siddeley team went to the USA to offer the improved Bristol 205, with three BS. 75 engines, to Pan American. It was a clever move, because the possibilities of starting with an export order might well have made the British decision-makers think twice before making a commitment. D.H. immediately hit back by reporting that Pan American wanted discussions on the D.H.121 as soon as a meeting could be arranged. Then on 4 February 1958 the Aircraft Manufacturing Company Ltd (Airco) was announced as the consortium to build the 121, with de Havilland in the driving seat, accompanied by Hunting and Fairey. Airco was already registered (de Havilland had actually begun this name in 1915). The Bristol/Hawker Siddeley team again tried to delay the BEA choice
under
by saying
that the Corporation should wait and see whether the Bristol 205 or Airco 121 could win an export order, but they knew by this time that they were losing out. On 12 February 1958 the fight was over, when
the
Government authorised
BEA to commence contractual negotiations, 170
Reawakening and
issue a letter of intent for the purchase of
24 Airco 121s, designed
to
carry 110 passengers, and powered by Rolls-Royce RB.141 Medway engines, each of 14,000 lb thrust. Hatfield was riding high again, building their the big
BE A
contract. John
new Comets and winning Cunningham had played an unobtrusive but
influential role in the selection of
de Havilland.
He took part in the
early
discussions regarding the airline's detailed requirements, and remembered Sholto Douglas saying that he wanted the Hatfield team to design
new
aeroplane. 'Particularly because Pete Bugge and I had been concerned with the development of the Comet. Also, during the early 1940s both of us had been involved in the development of the nightfighter business, which had been one of Sholto's responsibilities after the his
largely
Battle of Britain.'
Thus, their long association was a significant factor. As Sholto said to him, 'I wanted the team I knew for my new aeroplane.' Also, Sholto was initially buying Comets, which John had pioneered. On 1 December 1958 John Cunningham was appointed to the de Havilland Aircraft Board. Martin Sharp wrote of him at the time John Cunningham has been responsible for the flight development of all de Havilland aircraft since he succeeded Geoffrey de Havilland Jr in 1946. It is hard to realise that he has nearly reached his twenty-fifth anniversary in the firm, having joined the Technical School in September 1935. He was the leading
RAF in the War, most directly concerned in developing the radar technique of interception. His thoroughness goes hand in hand with an easy confidence and modesty. Much-decorated, he probably values more than most honours the Harmon Trophy.' In addition C.T. Tim' Wilkins, Chief Designer, was also made a director. These appointments were all part of the winds of change, as Martin Sharp commented, 'a further step to give the younger men the night-fighter pilot of the
responsibility of direction for
which
their
171
work and
ability fitted them.'
-
Trident's
Twenty-Six
Long Incubation
Wilkins headed up the
121 design team, and by April 1958 the general layout of the aircraft had been formulated, with the maiden flight targeted for mid- 1961. The de Havilland market research team had carried out a study, and forecast export sales of over 500 aircraft in this category by 1965. Everything looked good, in the sense that Britain was on the edge of building an outstanding aircraft which would satisfy both home and overseas markets. Work was going ahead well when in March 1959 dramatic outside circumstances once again struck the entire operation. BEA, who naturally kept a close watch on European traffic trends, discovered that those for 1958/59 revealed a very small drop in growth. Amazingly, the statisticians extended the likely percentage drop regarding future traffic, without the hierarchy considering that this was almost certainly a temporary and uncharacteristic slippage. BEA's extraordinary reaction was one of panic: they insisted that the D.H.121 was far too big and could not be filled with passengers. Therefore the aircraft had to be cut down in size and powered by smaller engines. Like a thunderbolt, the Corporation emasculated its future mainliner and virtually binned the original design. They told de Havilland to scale the aircraft down, and get Rolls-Royce to design smaller engines. The aircraft was shortened by some 13 feet, the wing area was reduced by some 30 per cent, and the Rolls-Royce Medway engines (which were already on test) were replaced by RB.163 Speys, of only 9,850 lb thrust (which did not even exist on paper). John Cunningham recalled that there were endless arguments about the power. 'BEA', he said, 'were insistent that they would have the Spey engine, and were not prepared to have an aeroplane with bigger engines which would have had considerable worldwide sales. It was a question of the Spey or no orders. They made it plain that there was always Bristol they could go to, and Hatfield had to accept it' Submission to these demands was to cost the Company worldwide sales, and the problem ever afterwards of endeavouring to extend the small 121's capacity and performance back to what had originally been intended. Having created a potential world-beater, the D.H. team were
172
Trident's
Long Incubation
back around the table arguing, and it was six months before they reached agreement on the cut-down form of the 121. At this point Aubrey Burke stopped his sales and marketing executives from even daring to talk to any foreign airline so that everybody could concentrate on the revised BEA specification. The emasculated aircraft was named Trident. During all this period the Comet was back in business and John had flown the first BO AC Comet 4B G-APDA on schedule on 27 April 1958. Then, on 1 1 August, he took the same aircraft to New York, and made an unofficial record flight on his way back to Hatfield. The primary purpose of this trip was to check whether the Comet would conform with the Port of New York Authority's rigid noise regulations. He was off again on 12 September flying to Hong Kong for the celebrations marking the opening of the new Kai Tak airport. He returned via Bombay and Cairo
Aboard a Comet 4, with Peter Bugge Comet development flying.
in the
right-hand
173
seat.
Peter did the largest share of the
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
hours 35 minutes flying time. Two days later he was off again crossing the Atlantic to Canada, and he then proceeded to tour Mexico and South America. BOAC put the Comet 4 into service on the London to New York route on 4 October 1958. The Comet had not been designed for such a long sector, but BOAC wanted to beat PanAm, which put the larger Boeing 707 into service three weeks later. Having established the big 707, in 1956/59 Boeing had been investigating the short/medium-range market, resulting in the Boeing 727 concept. It was ironic for de Havilland that this machine coincided almost precisely with the original specification of the D.H.121. Boeing, as de Havilland had done originally, had created an aircraft for world markets. Fortunately for Boeing, their project did not have to be submitted to Congress or to a state-owned airline operator at the initial project stage. Furthermore, the vast US domestic market provided ample opportunities and funds for project development by independent manufacturers, to Hatfield in 16
were able to take a broad view of the project's potential and on with it. De Havilland had done exactly the same, and had reached
so Boeing
get
was common practice to don their Cunningham ofMiddle East Airlines' chats to the company's General Manager GJ.R. Tod on the inaugural MEA flight to Qatar.
When
visiting customers, for
example
to train their crews, it
uniform. Here in February 1961 'Capt
174
Trident's
Long Incubation
same conclusions, but had been stopped in their tracks by the Government and the national short-haul airline operator. Sholto Douglas had heard about the Boeing project when visiting the
the
States, and suggested to D.H. that the two companies, who were both developing projects with three engines at the tail, should get together. D.H. immediately responded by inviting a Boeing team to Hatfield, to see what their rivals were doing with the Trident. So, in the process, the Americans were handed D.H. research on a plate (and there were one or two details they found useful), while the British Press was barred completely from the factory! Needless to say, in the return match in early 1960, D.H. executives were not given a similar opportunity, and learned nothing of Boeing's plans for the 727. The British had kicked an own goal, eventually resulting a final score of 1 17 Tridents sold - all but 10 to BEA and the Chinese, as against 1,832 Boeing 727s! Some people felt that Aubrey Burke should not have given way to BEA's foolish and doctrinaire attitude, but he was in a nutcracker situation, between airline operator and Government. He did not appear to be the sort of man who would acquiesce easily, having been trained as an engineer in the hard school, and possessing a talent for administration and negotiation. John Maynard wrote that Burke's acerbic style purged the organisation of any lingering despair, and inspired his subordinates to keep to the demanding programme. Had the Trident project gone smoothly then the Airco consortium might not have been dissolved. At this stage it was not working sufficiently well to cope with the Trident situation. However, it must be said that the consortium was not a genuine merger or take-over at all, but a mere arrangement. The result was that in January 1960, de Havilland became a division of Hawker Siddeley Aviation, Hunting became part of the British Aircraft Corporation, while Fairey ceased aircraft manufacture. Thus, the D.H. 121 was to become the Hawker Siddeley Trident, and de Havilland part of a conglomerate. A far cry from 50 years previously when Sir Geoffrey had made the first flight in the first de Havilland. T climbed out of the seat,' he wrote, 'exhilarated at my achievement and scarcely able to believe that I had actually flown in a 'plane that we had built ourselves. Those few inches meant more to me than the thousands of feet which separated me from the ground later when I took the altitude record. I believe this was the most important and memorable moment of my life.' His accomplice was Frank Hearle, who became his partner in 1908, and retired from his directorship on 30 September 1956.
had been made
Government's policy was to do aviaand to cut down the number of companies. D.H. was now a division of Hawker Siddeley, and Aubrey Burke and Stuart Kennedy were given seats on the latter's board, with It
clear that the
tion business only with large conglomerates,
175
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
offices in Duke St, London. Hawker Siddeley had previously bought Avro, Hawker, Gloster, Armstrong Whitworth, Armstrong Siddeley, Blackburn, Folland and* numerous other companies. However, their prime concern had been the production of military aircraft, including the Javelin, Hunter, Buccaneer, Shackleton, Vulcan and Gnat. Duncan Sandys had 'put the cat amongst the pigeons' when he announced that manned military aircraft were henceforth obsolete, and Hawker Siddeley was desperate for a strong-selling entry into the civil market. Buying de Havilland provided that entry. The general feeling at Hatfield was naturally that life would never be the same again. John Cunningham, however, said, 'Nothing changed as far as I was concerned. We continued to run our own show at Hatfield, and the Hawker test pilots at Dunsfold ran theirs. It was sad about what happened to the D.H.121, and an unfortunate decision in the long run,
and
as a result the British aircraft industry suffered.' This is a typical reaction from John. His attitude, as always, was to get on with the job in hand. He had long been a figurehead, who had played a major role in pioneering the de Havilland business. His directorship, two years previously, symbolised his contribution to the Company. Sir Geoffrey wrote at that time, John is test pilot, demonstration pilot, salesman and ambassador, all in one, and has made some sensational flights. He can do thousands of miles for many days, and at the end of the flight can be charming, unruffled and apparently as fresh as ever when discussing points raised by a host of officials, Pressmen and others.' John was well aware that it was better for de Havilland to live as part of Hawker Siddeley than to go under in an attempt to survive alone, although his roots had been with D.H. since he was eighteen. Apart from that, he had long since become inured to dramatic changes in life. His attitude was naturally cheerful in the spirit of 'Let's get on with it. There's plenty to do.' Trident construction proceeded during 1960 and 1961, cloaked in secrecy. As with the formative years of the Comet, the Press knew roughly what was going on but were not given any technical details. Previously, the emergence of the Comet had been very much 'under cover', and attempts were even made to disguise its appearance, which is understandable because it was such a revolutionary aircraft. There appeared to be no reason why the company should have been so secretive about the Trident, the only explanation being that design changes were being made constantly and no firm decisions about the final format
had been ratified. During this period John Cunningham was busy testing the different versions of the Comet. BOAC had ordered the Comet 4, and BEA the Comet 4B with a longer body, clipped wings and no external tanks. It seemed somewhat ironic in the circumstances that BEA should have 176
Tridents Long Incubation i
ordered the larger Comet, but the order had been placed before the and temporary dip in passenger traffic which had resulted in the Trident fiasco. The Comet 4C, with the longer fuselage but having the original Comet layout, was ordered later by other airlines (including that of Kuwait, who later became one of the Trident's few export customers). John naturally became involved in the training of crews, while keeping an eye on the overall company flight-test programme. When the first Trident was completed in early August 1961, John had been happy to return to test flying, which he found far more productive and personally rewarding. He began taxying trials with non-flight Spey engines, but by November three flight-cleared engines had been installed. However, Hertfordshire then suffered the worst blizzard for 50 years, delaying the first flight until 9 January 1962. The aircraft had acquired its name from a competition run jointly by BEA and de Havilland. The winner had undoubtedly been influenced by the aeroplane's three engines, and triplicated hydraulic and electrical trivial
systems.
The
implement
dictionary definition records: 'trident, n. Three-pronged
such spear or sceptre as attribute of Poseidon or Neptune'. Much later the Royal Navy purchased the US missile system of this name! However, the prototype Trident 1C was to become the first aircraft to be equipped with an Automatic Landing System. This uniquely successful development proved to be a classic example of co-operation between D.H. /Hawker Siddeley, BEA (who provided part of the finance), and Smiths Industries, who were the originators of the system and the equipment. John was closely involved in the initial trials which he regarded as, '. a tremendous development this was a time when fog used to cause a lot of problems throughout Europe. It was essential for BEA to ensure regular passenger services and operate into airports in "blanket" weather conditions.' Although the veteran Comet 3 G-ANLO was used initially at RAE Bedford, most of the development work was done on the first Tridents, in which de Havilland test pilot John Wilson was closely e.g. fish-spear:
.
.
.
.
involved.
John Cunningham had
to recruit
new
pilots to
handle Trident
testing,
and these included Desmond Penrose and Peter Barlow. Desmond had a permanent commission in the RAF and had graduated from the Empire Test Pilots' School course at Farnborough. He fittedjohn's requirements, in that he had swept-wing experience with Lightnings, and had flown the Sea Vixen and also the early Comet. He took up John's offer, and resigned his commission to join the Hatfield test team, where he commenced test work on the Sea Vixen and Trident. During this period John had met a widow with two sons, and they planned to get married. He had been engaged twice during the War years, and on the last occasion had been posted abroad, only to find on amongst other
duties,
177
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
The Christchurch factory followed the Sea Venom by the far more powerful Sea Vixen, derived
from
the
D.H.
1 1
prototypes. This example
was XJ690, an FAW.2. (Dennis Baldry)
UK that his fiancee had married one of his colleagues. Those were turbulent and difficult times for everybody as far as marriage was concerned, and John had been unlucky. 'I had tried twice', he said,' and I thought on the third occasion that my luck would change.' But it was not to be: his friend died suddenly. He was then in his mid-forties. Had he got married, it would undoubtedly have affected his way of life. Recalling those years Desmond Penrose his return to the
more time with the Company than with was a natural way of life that he enjoyed, and wanted to continue. From an early age I think John had been protected by his rank in the RAF, and subsequently within the Company. said,
our
'We, his
own
test pilots,
families.
spent
For John
this
He, unlike most of us, did not have to worry about a mortgage, or the problems of school fees, because he was living with his mother and these
him as they did us.' In the early 1950s John's widowed sister married, as did his brother, and left the large family house. John built a smaller house alongside the
things did not affect
stables for himself
and
his
mother, keeping acres of surrounding land. 178
Trident's
Long Incubation
to maintain the continuity of the environment which he loved, in the locality which suited him. John was never a big spender, and money as such did not mean much to him. He had, however, been influenced by the older pioneers of the de Havilland business, who over the years had kept a strict control on budgetary finance - keeping a budget down was well regarded by these stalwarts! John had always maintained that the rates of pay in the aviation industry were lower than in many other industries. Desmond Penrose commented that some of the test pilots, looking over their shoulders, would casually remark that the Vickers people (for example) were doing better than they were. When he was asked why they didn't make a move to get more money he hesitated for a moment and smiled, 'because ofJohn', he said. 'He was a good man to work for. He was a very competent chief pilot, also he had within the Test Department a very good team. There was a lot going on, a future for us. We had two aircraft on the go, the Trident and the D.H.125 [a small business jet described later]. John was full of enthusiasm and goodwill. He was not selfish. I remember him giving the
Thus he was able
first flight
of the 125 to
First takeoff by
unusual
G-ARPA,
somebody
the first Trident for
in that the nose unit retracted
side. (British
else,
and Jimmy
Phillips
made
the
first
BEA, on 9 January 7962. The landing gear was
sideways and the main
Aerospace)
179
legs
had four small wheels
side-by-
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
Autoland landing. He is a superb pilot to fly with. He's got excellent hands and a very, very steady approach. He doesn't get distracted, although if your intercom is switched on, and he hears your heavy breathing, he reaches across and switches it off.' As Desmond Penrose pointed out, the essence of test-flying was to keep near-disasters under cover to ensure that the image was kept polished. He mentioned the first flight of the Trident on a bright winter's day on 9 January 1962, as an example. John was flying the aircraft with Pete Bugge and three other crew members on board. Desmond was flying 'chase' on this occasion in a Canberra je f bomber, and had a photographer with him to record this memorable flight. The photographer's job was to take pictures to record the flight, while Desmond was on hand to give any assistance that might be required. He had manoeuvred the Canberra beneath the Trident to watch the landing gear come down and then be retracted. During the retraction cycle Desmond saw that the starboard main landing-gear door had failed to open, and that the four-wheels-in-line gear had come up and jammed against it. He described the situation to John over the intercom, while the photographer took pictures. John checked with the senior flight engineer, Edgar Brackstone-Brown, who was on board, and they released the hydraulics and let the unit do a free fall. Desmond watched the gear come down, and told John that it looked as if it had locked. The Trident later
made a safe landing. Desmond briefed
the photographer, who had captured the entire word of this was to leak out, and that he was to do some prints and have them delivered to the Chief Test Pilot. He was unable to see John Cunningham after the event, but two days later John telephoned him and said, 'Thank you very much, Desmond. It was a great help', and put the phone down. Economy with words, Desmond
sequence, that not a
was one of John's
However, the malfunction of the landing gear never did leak out, and the fault was identified and remedied. By today's standards, those prints could have been worth a lot of said,
money
to
characteristics.
an unscrupulous photographer.
Sadly, there was to be a far
known
more
serious
problem with the Trident,
could prevail at the point of stall with aircraft whose horizontal tail surfaces were mounted high on the fin, such as the Trident, Boeing 727 and BAC One-Eleven. If the nose of such a 'T-tail' aircraft was high up at the stalling point, the elevators could become blanketed in a wake of low-speed disturbed air from the wing which rendered them useless. With the absence of lift, and with no chance of lowering the nose, the aircraft became locked into a flat, fast descent with no forward speed - literally falling like a stone. The pilots had stick pushers to help them ram the control columns right forward under the instrument panel in order to force the nose down and as the deep-stall or superstall condition. This
180
Tridents Long Incubation This device was designed to take matters out of the hands and lower the nose when it sensed a decav of speed combined with an increase in the angle of the airflow bevond a preset danger point. However, the airworthiness authorities demanded that, in testing civil aircraft, the stick pushers had to be deliberately disconnected at the point of stall. On test, pilots were required to disengage the stick pusher to
avoid a
stall.
of the pilots
establish the individual aircraft's handling close to the point of
The
was
stall.
dangerous flight regime to investigate. a team five led bv Mike Lithgow were killed in October 1963 of On 22 a BAC One-Eleven. On 3 June 1966, after Tridents had been put through 2A95 stall tests. G-ARPY crashed in a superstall on its first flight. The crew, who were all killed, were George Errington and Peter Barlow, and test engineers Brackstone-Brown and G.W. Patterson. John Cunningham had recruited Brackstone-Brown to his team during the earlv davs of the Comet I. and had a particular regard for him. T had worked with mamengineers over the years', he said, "but I remember "Brax" as a brilliant practical man. with most notable diagnostic abilities.' superstall
a particularly
Return from a pro: ing flight by G-ARPB on 2 Decern Wilson, BE4 Capt \Uke"Mitchell. Philip Birtles. Peter ;
test
pilot Peter
Barlow and JC.
'British
A 181
_
Owen
From (later
the left: test pilot John
Chief Designer at Hatfield),
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
when they were carrying nose was way up', he said, 'and we were shoving hard on the yokes, getting them as far forward as possible. It was a strange sensation for a tense few seconds, watching and waiting for that nose to come down, almost as if life itself had lost momentum. Then the nose slowly descended, and we had control again. John, looking across to me said quietly "I think that's enough for today". That's the measure of the man.'
Desmond Penrose
recalled flying with John
out deep-stall tests in the Trident.
The
182
Twenty-Seven
Held
in
Awe
Cunningham was held in awe by most of the airline pilots he John trained. Ian Whittle, the son of jet pioneer Sir Frank. Whittle, was one of them. Like his father, Ian was a product of the RAF, and flew Vampires in the Middle East before becoming an airline pilot. John trained him on the Comet 4C - the final Comet variant in which the
4B fuselage was married with the original wings of the Comet 4. Ian Whittle's words portray the status of John in the eyes of an airline pilot undergoing a conversion course. stretched
'At the time,
and
I
was a
bitterly cold,
we looked much
First Officer
with Kuwait Airways.
but with a clear blue sky.
It
was February
The Chief Pilot and
decided
I
smarter in our uniform jackets with our gold braid visible
than in our winter coats. Consequently,
we
nearly froze to death for our
vanity.
We were
standing outside the hangar at Hatfield awaiting the
moment
would start to open and reveal our brand new Comet 4C, so splendid in its Kuwait Airways livery, with the distinctive bright-blue tailplane. John Cunningham was there, sensibly wrapped in his overcoat, rosy cheeks aglow, friendly and relaxed with the Kuwait dignitaries who were about to see the first jet aircraft to join the company fleet. I must say, that sleek and lovely aeroplane was quite breathtaking. If John felt pride in the sight, he had every reason to. He would soon captain the 'plane on its proving flight, and then take it on a tour through the Middle East to Kuwait, with stops at Beirut and Cairo. Captain Hebborn and I were to take turns to sit in the first-pilot's seat during certain times in the cruise to gain familiarity with the autopilot and avionics, and listen to JCs words of wisdom about the various flight characteristics. I remember, in particular, his emphasis on the care needed to avoid what was known as Mach tuck - a gentle nose-down pitch that would start at a point when the Mach number rose to a value of about 0.82 and which, if not corrected by an automatic pitch-up system, could result in the aircraft becoming a little difficult to control. He completed my flying training on the Comet at that the doors
Beirut International Airport in early 1963. I
can remember feeling quite nervous
183
in the
presence of
this
famous
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
warrior of wartime flying. Although he would allow no inaccuracy, he was
modest, calm and kind.
If he perceived his trainee was at least doing his he would resporTd with encouragement and praise at just the right
best,
level, to
make
the process of conversion to this lovely aeroplane a great
assets made him a fine training pilot. John Cunningham converted me to the Comet in 1963, and
These
pleasure.
I
met him
again
when the airline bought two Trident 2Es. But my conversion training
to the
Trident was done by another capable and charming de Havilland
Ron
Over 30 years
later, walking through Westminster memorial service, I found great comfort in Abbey seeing John's kindly face amongst a sea of strangers.'
test pilot,
Clear.
following
my
father's
Ian Whittle's memories of John mirror the style and character of the man, which seemed never to vary. Ian made the point that he felt quite nervous 'in the presence of this famous wartime warrior'. Yet, over 20 years had elapsed since those days of 'Cat's-eyes' Cunningham's legendary exploits, which John always took pains to conceal. The past glories were buried deep inside him, and his self-control never allowed him to regurgitate them for self-promotion. But, inevitably, they were part of the aura and respect in which he was held. An unfortunate day meant nothing to him. He could put his head on the pillow and sleep. Tomorrow was another day, and there was always much to be done. Yesterday was history, and looking into the future was an occupational hazard.
Had he a mind to do so, he could have reflected on the extraordinary pattern of the Comet's progress since the disasters at Naples and Elba in 1954. Within three years, following fatigue testing in the huge water tank at Farnborough, this remarkable aircraft was to become the star of a momentous year in the history of British aviation when BO AC ordered 19 Comet 4Cs for all routes except the North Atlantic. Despite not being
designed for this route, a year later it inaugurated the first transatlantic passenger service, from London to New York. This was a triumph for de Havilland and for John particularly. But he was not the sort of man to indulge in any form of self-congratulation. His attitude was quite simply
jet
that the fatigue
business.
No
problems had been solved, and the
aircraft
hats in the air or back-slapping, because there
was back was much
in to
Comet family. The takeover by Hawker Siddeley had resulted in de Havilland aircraft adopting the prefix H.S. Some of the pilots found this irritating, especially
do
to regenerate the
concerning the Comet, Dove, Heron, Sea Vixen and 125. This was a and it was going to take time for them to become acclimatised to the winds of change. Desmond Penrose recalls, 'One day I went to collect a Heron, and took Technical Director Ron Bishop's 15-year-old son with me. I was chatting to him in the natural reaction in the circumstances,
184
Held
in
Awe
and bv mistake was transmitting over the contractors' frequency. lose the world-renowned name I Sopwith but who was Hawker, and who of de Havilland. I know about was Siddelev?" I made it quite plain that I didn't think much of the new owners, when a voice from Air Traffic Control told me to shut up. So my career went on a plateau!' It was not long before there was a change in the hierarchy at Hatfield. It came in 1963, when Air Commodore F.R. 'Rod' Banks became Assistant Managing Director and Chief Executive (Civil Aircraft Aged 66, he was a brisk, business-like and talented figure with a career that spanned the birth of aviation, two World Wars and the emergence of the jet age. A pioneer of high-octane fuel development, engineer and pilot. Banks was a first-class negotiator and administrator. He won his RAF wings when he was over 40 in the Second World War, during which he became Director-General of Engine Production and then Director of Engine Research and Development. Before going to Hatfield he had been a Director of the Bristol and Blackburn companies. The fact that Rod Banks had been a pilot enabled him to understand the test pilots' problems, and command their respect. John Cunningham said that they got on well together, and he liked him very much. This was a particularly good time to have such a talented man to bridge the gap following the Hawker Siddeley takeover. It was almost like a return of one of the pioneers in aviation who had created the D.H. business. Moreover. Banks was held in high esteem world-wide, which helped cockpit,
remember saving something like "We'll
.
Trident negotiations.
During
his first
week
at
Cunningham took him up in a edge of a thunderstorm with some hail.
Hatfield John
125, when they flew through the Banks heard a sharp crack from the cockpit roof, and after landing discovered that some of the balsa-wood fairing had peeled off and disappeared. He tried to get rid of this fairing and have a deep pressing for the cockpit canopy, but this was a costly and difficult modification. It took him some time, but he persisted and eventually the modification was made. Banks called his autobiography I Kept No Diary (and neither did John Cunningham, so it is hardly surprising that they had a mutual respect for one another). He was to spend four years at Hatfield, which he said were good years with very pleasant colleagues. In 1978. at the end of his autobiography, he wrote 'Finally, I do not believe in bigness as such, size for the sake of size. We have seen too manv amalgamations and takeovers in the last decade in the so-called interests of operating economy and market efficiency with the conglomerates resulting from the merging of widely different kinds of companies. Many of these amalgamations have not given the return on capital thev were expected to earn, although sometimes the capital has not been sufficient.'
185
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
During the period that Rod Banks ran Hatfield, John was fully committed to the Trident programme, and handed the prototype and development work on the 125 over to Chris Capper and Geoffrey Pike. Chris Capper had graduated from the Empire Test Pilots' School, and then worked in the Aerodynamics Flight at Farnborough, where he made a total of 51 flights on the tailless DH.108. After a brief spell with the Bristol Aeroplane Company, he joined de Havilland in January 1953. Geoffrey Pike was an 'old hand', having joined D.H. as an apprentice in 1934 - a year even before John Cunningham. He had learnt to fly in the RAFVR, and become involved in the Mosquito programme. By the end of the war he had flown some 500 of them, and become assistant to Chief Test Pilot Geoffrey de Havilland Jr. These two test pilots made the first flight of what was then still called the D.H. 125, which after only 20 hours' flying was demonstrated at the Farnborough Show of 1962. During the Show the Minister of Aviation, Julian Amery, announced that it would be ordered by the RAF as a navigation trainer. This nimble 6-8 seater business jet was to have an excellent sales record, particularly in the USA. For some reason British Aerospace did not want a best-selling aeroplane and sold it to the US conglomerate Raytheon, who took production past the 1,000 mark in 1998. John Cunningham used a 125 frequently for communications
work.
At its
Farnborough Show in 1962 the Trident also made Blake and Mike Hooks wrote in their book 40 Years at John
that particular
debut.
Farnborough.
'The Trident was designed to a close specification from
BEA
for a short-
haul jet capable of working from short runways. Normally a 75-seater, the
was exactly what BEA wanted, with the right characteristics for and later proved fully compatible with the Autoland fullyautomatic landing system - incidentally, Smith's Industries' first commercial application of this. Rear-mounted engines gave a 'clean' wing and greatly reduced cabin noise. Powered by Rolls-Royce Speys, the third production aircraft had flown for the first time only two weeks before the Show and it was joined at the Show when airborne by the first and second off the line. These were Trident Is, with an 800-mile (1,287.5 km) range carrying 77 passengers and freight. BEA had ordered a full fleet of 24 off the drawing board. The later Trident 1C carried 1,000 gallons (4,546 litres) more fuel, which extended the range to 1,500 miles (2,414 km). A welldesigned aircraft, its prospects were to be considerably hampered by loyal compliance with parameters that were of interest solely to BEA, thus inhibiting orders from other airlines with quite different requirements.' aircraft
short sectors,
The 1963.
sentence said wrote:
last
He
it all.
Rod Banks was in Japan
186
during Christmas
Held 'We were asked
to
go there
in
Awe
at short notice since
All-Nippon Airlines were
interested in a stretched version of the Trident which, although
it
would
have involved major design work, nevertheless offered a chance of the additional sales we so badly needed beyond the BEA order. This version would have been somewhat larger than the Trident 1, but could only offer an increase in passenger capacity at the expense of range, since the Spey engine, which had replaced the Medway, did not have the extra thrust needed.
number of visits with our performance and manufacturing colleagues, we lost to the Boeing 727. It was all rather sad, but we managed After a
shortly afterwards to get an order for three Tridents
from Pakistan Airlines
in Karachi.'
The Trident required a longer runway than obvious during the
trials at
the 727, which
Osaka, and both JAL and
became
ANA selected the
American rival. Meanwhile John Cunningham, as usual, was fully occupied. BEA pilot training had started at Hatfield, and some 500 hours of testing had been completed prior to route-proving trials with BEA. Trident G-ARPE had previously carried out a 35,000-mile flight on a tour of the Far East to promote sales and check routes. It generated a great deal of interest and substantial orders were being discussed, but simultaneously the Americans had been demonstrating the 727, which won virtually all the worldwide orders. As with the Comet, D.H. were creating a family of Tridents to suit the varying requirements of the airline operator. From the prototype the 1C, IE, 2E, and later the 3B, when the fuselage was and the RB.162 take-off booster engine incorporated. This version was almost back to D.H.'s initial proposition of a large-capacity,
emerged
stretched,
powerful aeroplane with sound small-airfield performance and route flexibility, but by then all the markets had been lost. John Cunningham and his associates had conducted over 1,800 hours of testing before the first Trident finally received its Certificate of Airworthiness on 18 February 1964. Flight-testing was a major feature of John's life, and undoubtedly he was happiest in the cockpit working on each version until it got its C. of A. Desmond Penrose, who always enjoyed flying with him, summed it up when he said, Tt is a joy to be with somebody who has given his life to perfecting his skills as a pilot.' The Trident's first revenue flight was made to Copenhagen on 1 March 1964, and scheduled services began early the following month on routes to Frankfurt, Geneva, Helsinki, Nice, Stockholm, Rome and Zurich. Meanwhile, initial trials had been progressing with the automatic landing system, in which John was closely involved. The first fully automatic landing was made at Bedford on 5 March 1964, flown by Jimmy 187
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
later on 10 June 1965 when Trident 1C Gthe world's first in-service automatic touchdown at Heathrow, carrying passengers from Paris. Several years beforehand, John had been the first pilot in the world to demonstrate a truly blind landing in a civil transport aircraft flying a Trident into Heathrow. This successful development ensured continuity of services throughout Europe without being inhibited by weather conditions, and later systems Phillips. It
was over a year
ARPR made
are
employed globally today.
188
Twenty-Eight
The Chinese Episode 1972-79
when Pakistan Trident IE AP ATK on 1 March 1966. Pakistan had ordered three Tridents to replace their Vickers Viscounts, and the aircraft were used on services from Karachi, Lahore and Rawalpindi to Dacca and later to the Persian Gulf. A fourth Trident was originally ordered for the Pakistan Air Force but was repainted in PI A colours prior to delivery. John Cunningham had been involved in the delivery of the Tridents to Pakistan, and the training of operators. Later, there followed a sequence of events culminating in the People's Republic of China taking over Pakistan's Tridents in an exchange deal. During 1972 and 1973 China ordered a further 27 Trident 2Es, as well as two longer-range Super 3Bs with additional centre-section fuel and increased gross weight. Thus Hawker Siddeley received a considerable export boost out of the blue, and John Cunningham was to spend over a year in China during the seven-year programme from 1972
The Chinese
affair first
emerged
International took delivery of
as a possibility
its first
until late 1979.
John explained
that the Trident's
first
appearance in China dated back
to the Indo-Pakistan war, at a time when Pakistan relied on America to provide its military aircraft, F-86 Sabre fighters. When the USA decided to stop supplying military aircraft to Pakistan, China, having always had friendly dealings with Pakistan, stepped in, offering to supply them with up-to-date MiGs in exchange for the Tridents. The People's Republic wanted a modern airliner, and knew that the Trident was a wellengineered aeroplane. They had previously bought the Viscount, but the Vickers people had never been allowed into China. In those days Chou en Lai was the right-hand man for Chairman Mao, and American aircraft such as the 727 were not acceptable to China, which had been totally dependent on the Soviet Union for the supply of aircraft. The exchange deal represented a great new move by China, and a unique opportunity
and his technical associates to enter the secretive People's Republic.
for John
Meetings were held
at Hatfield
Communist
with Chinese representatives, and
189
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
arrangements were made for Chinese technicians to be trained there. John's task was basically to deliver Tridents one by one to Kwangchow, together with a team of technical experts, and get them accepted. Until the acceptance agreement was signed, the aircraft remained the property of Hawker Siddeley, but they were to be delivered with Chinese markings. It sounded quite simple for a man who had delivered aircraft worldwide and trained crews, but China was unknown territory and seemingly as remote as the Moon. Characteristically John regarded the task as an exciting challenge. 'This was going to be a new world for me', he said, 'something which I had never experienced, and probably strange to begin with.' John decided to take Desmond Penrose with him as co-pilot on the first trip, and Desmond worked on the route plan. The technical team had been briefed, and they were all set to go, when suddenly a BEA Trident crashed at Staines immediately after take-off. John and Desmond had to stay behind for the enquiry proceedings and all thoughts of going to China had to be put on one side. The Trident concerned was on a commercial flight, and while climbing steeply out of Heathrow the aircraft entered a deep-stall condition at a few hundred feet. It fell to the ground, and disintegrated upon impact, killing everybody, including the pilot Captain Key. Feelings were intense on the flight deck, Key being a martinet senior captain and his two junior pilots fiercely supporting a union-backed dispute. Key had a heart- attack and died as the aircraft began its climb-out. It was concluded that the aircraft had deep-stalled as a result of lethal premature retraction by one of the junior pilots of the droop flaps on the wing leading edge. There was no fault on the part of ,
the aircraft.
This worst Trident accident wasn't exactly a happy prelude for John's excursion into the People's Republic, but fortunately it did not influence China's decision to buy more Tridents. John, together with his team of technical experts, left Hatfield at about 10.30 am on the first leg of this memorable trip. They landed at Istanbul to refuel, and again at Dubai. Then they headed towards Colombo in Sri Lanka (Ceylon), which was friendly towards China -John had previously been there during the War, and later during the Trident era, when Air Ceylon had bought Tridents and he had trained their crews. The flight had taken some 15 hours, and it was almost sunrise the next day when they landed at Colombo. The aircraft was left under Sri Lankan Air Force security because of the danger of anti-Chinese people planting bombs. The Pegasus Hotel was on the shore of the Indian Ocean in beautiful surroundings, where they were able to have a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed. Then it was back to the airfield to get the aircraft ready for take-off about midnight on the following day in order to arrive at Kwangchow at the correct time. They were not allowed to fly across India, and had to avoid Cambodia
first
190
The Chinese Episode
With
the
25th Trident
IE for CAAC,
tested as
- 1972-79
G-BBWD and delivered to
China as B-263.
(British Aerospace)
and Laos for political reasons, so they headed east towards Kuala Lumpur, where they arrived at dawn to refuel. The aircraft was refuelled as quickly as possible because the locals didn't want an aircraft with Chinese markings sitting on their airfield. Then the Trident took off for Hong Kong, flying in the direction of the Philippines rather than going close to the coast, where they risked being shot at by Nationalist Chinese aircraft patrolling the Formosan Straits. The Trident touched down at Hong Kong at lunchtime, and HAECO (the
Hong Kong
Aircraft Engineering
Company) made
sure that the
was in excellent order. John, meanwhile, had checked that the aerodrome at Kwangchow was ready to receive them, as there were very few aircraft going into the People's Republic of China. Pakistan International, Aeroflot and Air France were the only airlines allowed to aircraft
fly there. It was a short flight of about 100 miles to Kwangchow, in the Province of Kwangtung, and the Chinese had made it clear that they were expected
4 pm. They were feeling very tired after the long journey, involving loss of sleep and little chance to relax. Naturally, the party was wondering what to expect when they stepped on to Chinese soil exactly at the at
191
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
appointed hour. Although they would be meeting aviation people, nobody knew what life would be like under the regime of this 'forbidden' country. In short, they were vernacularly 'knackered', but keyed-up to
make
a
good impression.
When the
aircraft touched down at one minute to 4 pm, and taxied to reception, they were officially greeted by the Head of the Chinese Organisation and his associates. The welcoming party were extremely friendly, and after short speeches and an exchange of greetings they were conducted to a great official banquet, which set the tone for the entire
Chinese episode. Having sampled the 'starters', a series of dishes appeared including chicken, duck, prawns, and small pancakes with savoury and sweet fillings, involving some seven or eight courses. They drank lager beer, fizzy orange, and numerous toasts containing a powerful liquid which John could not at first identify. This was probably mautai, the fiery, colourless spirit distilled from sorghum, which fortunately was served in tiny liqueur glasses! There were numerous speeches, to which they had to respond amid the clinking of glasses and shouts of 'Cambai' (Bottoms Up!). It became increasingly evident that the Chinese greatly enjoyed their food and drink, although John tactfully suggested some time later that it might
John taught Capt Wang
ofCAAC not
only about the Trident but also about the British pint!
Extraordinarily tall for a Chinese, he later became manager of his country 's civil-aviation South East Region. In the centre is the vital interpreter.
192
The Chinese Episode
- 1972-79
be preferable to hold the banquet on the following day, when the party had recovered from the somewhat exhausting trip out. He was rather relieved when the Chinese boss agreed without hesitation. As John was to make over thirty trips, and the welcoming banquet was a traditional Chinese custom, he had made life a lot easier for everybody when they disembarked. The party found themselves quartered in a section of a transit hotel in Kwangchow, and were to find that they were the only people who remained in the hotel for two weeks or more. Foreigners entering China usually came by train from Hong Kong, and stopped the night at the hotel. Next day they were flown by CAAC, the Chinese airline, to Peking (now Beijing) in an Ilyushin aircraft. They soon found that life in the transit hotel was a little different from life at home. There was no refrigerator, no air-conditioning, no milk, no cheese and no bread. John remarked that the Chinese beer was very good, but there were no spirits available except Chinese vodka, which was very effective when mixed with tomato juice! John got on very well with the Chinese, who were keen, polite and meticulous. Tt was strange to begin with', he said, 'but I enjoyed it as I began to understand the way they reacted to a problem. We had a specialist in each trade, so that their engineers learnt how to take things off and put them back on. When they wanted some unit changed, because they thought it was inadequate or second-hand, I accepted their point of view and arranged for a new spare to come out on the next flight. In some cases, when they didn't speak any English, they had an interpreter who did a very good job. They were determined to fly our aeroplane, and hopefully to learn enough to be able eventually to build their own. The pilots I dealt with had all flown jets in the Chinese Air Force.' John always had to do a test flight with a Chinese crew from Kwangchow to Shanghai. This was a flight of about 800 miles, heading north-east in the direction of Hangchow, with Nanchang over to their left and Wenchow on the coast to their right. The flight would take place in the morning, and he would fly the aeroplane. Arriving at Shanghai, in the Province of Chekiang, about mid-morning the Chinese would take him around one of their factories in the area on their way to a very good lunch. John has always said that the food was particularly good, and in the afternoon he and his associates were left to walk around the huge city, which was rather drab and totally colourless, except for the scarlet posters and banners of the Communist regime. There were no illuminated signs or displays in shop windows, and little to buy except food and essential household goods. Everyone seemed to be wearing loose white shirts, baggy blue trousers and blue canvas shoes. A Westerner could tell the women only by their hair, the young girls being in pigtails and older ladies having short bobs. 193
John
'Cat's Eyes'
A coach would then take Kwangchow
On
Cunningham
them back
to the airfield for the flight
back
occasion the Chinese would take over, the right-hand seat. This was their first night would occupy and John flight, andjohn said, 'I was there to guide, assist or help them as required.' On the following day, prior to the acceptance ceremony, there would be a meeting to run through any points or difficulties concerning the aeroplane. When everything was sorted out, there would be an acceptance Airline Director andjohn signed the papers. banquet, when the that the papers they exchanged would go to Peking explained John the payment for the aeroplane was made by the Bank of (Beijing), and China in Hong Kong to Hawker Siddeley's account, usually within two weeks of the exchange of signatures. John and his technical team then left by train to Hong Kong, where they would spend the night before to
at night.
this
CAAC
back to London. was made more comfortable at the Transit Hotel when they had a refrigerator flown in, and each Trident delivery brought fresh supplies of bread, butter and cheese. The Chinese also allowed them to bring in whisky, gin and Schweppes tonic water (unknown in China), which was put aboard by HAECO. John made two interesting trips in China in early flying
Life
About
to deliver the last
bench specified by
Trident; from the
CAAC,JC,
Peter Bugge,
left:
Bert Trigg at the two-man radio and navigation
and flight
194
engineer Barn' Smith. (British Aerospace)
The Chinese Episode
- 1972-79
1973, apart from his on-going Trident programme. These involved flying a senior Rolls-Royce party, including the Chairman Sir Kenneth Keith, and Technical Director Stanley Hooker (later Sir Stanley), from Hong Kong to Peking (Beijing). John said, 'The Chinese wouldn't allow RollsRoyce to use their own HS. 125. But they told me that because I had been going to and fro into China, I could bring the party in in my Hatfield 125.'
He
explained that the Rolls-Royce visits were in connection with signing agreements to overhaul or build RR military Spey engines in China. The Chinese liked and admired Stanley Hooker, and gave him the unique privilege of becoming the First Honorary Professor at the Peking Aeronautical Institute. Hooker became involved in a number of technical developments in China during the period 1972-79. He wrote in his autobiography Not Much of an Engineer (AirlifeJ, T paid many visits to China, and from the many Chinese engineers and high officials that I met I have received nothing but generous hospitality, respect and warm friendship. I hold them all in great affection, and have been very happy to make my contribution to the progress of aeronautics in that Great Nation.'
he became, naturally made the point that it is the great of Rolls-Royce that opens the doors in aeronautical circles all over
Sir Stanley, as
name
When
had to be flown in byJC, who in this picture is holding the At the extreme left is Sir Stanley Hooker, Sir Kenneth (later Lord) Keith is looking at camera and immediately beyond him is Sir William Cook. Rolls-Royce visited China they
passports. the
195
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
the world, and that travelling under their patronage is a privilege. However, there was one occasion when somebody in Rolls-Royce made a classic blunder by addressing a letter to the Republic of China. Upon arrival Hooker sensed that the atmosphere was very cool and unfriendly.
The Chairman of the meeting, Madame Wei, had the envelope in her hand with the address heavily underlined in red. She pointed out that they were the People's Republic of China and that the letter had been addressed incorrectly. She made the point that 'We are extremely displeased, and will therefore accommodate you in the Friendship Hotel, which is reserved for common foreigners'. Hooker proceeded to eat large chunks of humble pie and pointed out that Sir Kenneth Keith would be visiting shortly, and that the Chairman of Rolls-Royce must have a suite at the Peking (Beijing) hotel. Otherwise, reluctantly, he would have to advise him not to come. The Chinese appeared to ignore the warning, but just before Sir Kenneth was due to arrive all their belongings were transferred to the VIP hotel. Ironically, the Friendship Hotel had suited them well. The four of them had excellent accommodation, and dined alone in a room capable of seating a thousand!
John Cunningham made several visits to Peking (Beijing) where the weather was like a good British summer. There were hardly any cars, except a few rather large and ugly black limousines, based on the Russian Zil - itself based on the 1939 Packard. The streets were alive with thousands of bicycles, some towing little carts, while trams carved their way through throngs of people in baggy attire, most wearing the emblem of Chairman Mao and carrying his little red book. The bicycles would weave about without warning, and any collision would generate a crowd of bystanders and a smartly dressed 'bicycle traffic' policeman to sort matters out.
A visit to the Forbidden City - the Winter Palace of the old emperors - was a major attraction. In front of the Palace lies the vast Tian'An-Men Square, housing the enormous Great Hall of the People. The Palace itself is on the Chang' An Avenue which cuts straight across the City, comprising six traffic lanes between wide tree-lined borders. There was nothing to buy in the shops, but John and his associates could go to the large Friendship Shop, as they were foreigners, where there were groceries and typical Chinese items made of silk and jade. Two weeks after taking the Rolls-Royce party to Peking (Beijing), John found himself south of Durban, at the opening of the St Margaret's airport, flying the same 125. He had previously flown the South African Chief of the Air Staff in a 125 during a visit to England, and he met him again at the airport ceremony. 'One travelled about a great deal', John remarked casually. 'All part of the job. I recall that mining companies were interested in the 125, when I was in South Africa on that occasion.' Pointing out that he travelled a great deal was the understatement of 196
The Chinese Episode
- 1972-79
the Century, but only John could put it that way. Except when he had to bale out of a Moth Minor on 1 1 April 1939, Lady Luck had flown with him. Even during the traumatic War years and in the quest for transonic flight, he never had a serious accident involving injury. He had always
been able
sometimes in very dangerous circumhe had enjoyed robust health throughout his life. most aviation enthusiasts that this legendary figure was
to control his aircraft,
stances. Furthermore, It
seemed
to
invincible.
a winter's day in 1975, just before dusk, at the Hawker Siddeley airfield at Dunsfold, south-east of Guildford in Surrey, the Finger of Fate beckoned him. Earlier, he had flown a party of Chinese,
Then on
including their Minister of Transport, from Hatfield. The Harrier had been performing in its inimitable fashion, creating a spectacular volume of noise which had sent flocks of birds scurrying from the airfield. John had got the Chinese party together, and they boarded the 125 for the short return trip to Hatfield. Everything was fine as John took off, and at about 100 feet selected wheels-up. Then an extraordinary thing happened. Looking ahead he saw a huge flock of plover returning to the airfield and there was nothing he could do to avoid them. His engines ingested numerous birds, lost power and died. He had to push the stick forward and the aircraft touched down again at about 130 mph. It hurtled beyond the runway, crashing through the boundary and shot across a public road, before coming to a standstill in a field. Then it caught fire, but everybody was able to get out. However, in crossing the road it had collided with a car, and the four occupants of the car were killed. John had hurt his back, and later found that he had two crushed vertebrae. He was able to return to flying in early 1976, and suffered no lasting effects. John was then 58 years old, and would normally have been retired. He had long since decided that he was not going to continue flying for the sake of keeping a licence going after retirement. This had been a difficult decision for him, because of his passion for flying, and the fact that he had been in the cockpit for all his working life. However, he was a man who would carefully consider any situation confronting him, make up his mind and stick to it. But again, fate had something in store for him. On this occasion it was to provide an extension of his career as Chief Test Pilot. When the Chinese got wind ofJohn's impending retirement, they made it plain that they required his services to fulfil the contract, and they were not going to accept a replacement. So, John was able to look foward to another three years as Chief Test Pilot, and more visits to Kwangchow and the
concrete Transit Hotel!
He once remarked that the on well with engineers and
Chinese did not like salesmen, but they got That comment was interesting,
technicians.
197
John 'Cat>
Eyes'
Cunningham
it revealed that he never regarded himself in anv uav as a salesman. Yet, he was a powerful piece on the chessboard of marketing. The Chinese made the point when thev insisted that he remained 'on stage". He had gained their confidence and goodwill through his pro-
because
fessionalism, diplomacy,
charm and
personality. So
had
Sir
Stanlev
banquet in honour of the Chairman Hooker, to such an of Rolls-Rovce was laid with knives and forks and not chopsticks! Throughout his long career John had accumulated various outside interests, which naturally concerned aviation. Thev formed a pattern of fullv occupied during his retirement. When his life, and were to keep he had rejoined D.H. he was invited to re-form his old Squadron Xo. m the post-war Roval Auxiliary Air Force. Then, m 1948, about a vear after he was appointed as Chief Test Pilot, he served as Deputv Lieutenant of the County of Middlesex, a post he was to hold for eighteen years, becoming the longest-serving Deputv. When Middlesex became part of the Greater London Council he became Deputv Lieutenant of the extent that the
mm
GLC.
retiring at the required age of 75.
The Lord Lieutenant of Middlesex was the pioneer aircraft manufacturer Sir Frederick Handley Page, who had appointed him. He was a good friend, and John admired him for his strength of character and his humour. John's particular responsibilitv was for the Territorial and parttime Services throughout the Countv. T never had a Deputv Lieutenant's uniform', he said. 'However. I remember seeing Princess Margaret off from Heathrow, as a favour to Sir Frederick. It was a cold daw and I was wearing my tweed overcoat.' He was made a Committee member of the Roval Aero Club shortlv after the War. 'I was a member of the Club", he explained, 'and became one of the youngest on the Committee, in companv with Lord Brabazon
and Whitnev Straight, DSOs and two DFCs as
whom
I
greatlv admired.'
Having won three
and had become one of the youngest Group Captains in the RAF. he was naturally a target for aviation associations who wanted to enlist his help and support. He always responded bv doing whatever he could, and these activities formed an ongoing pattern during his working life. John, of course, had become a world figure, but he had kept his roots m the countryside around Harpenden. near Hatfield. He had a network of de Havilland colleagues and friends throughout the area. Thus, he was able to enjoy a social life and relax in the surroundings he loved. This was an important factor, bearing in mind his globe-trotting and the
demands
a night-fighter pilot,
of test-flying.
However, bv courtesy
of the Chinese, he
three years in his job as Chief Test Pilot.
He
was able
said,
to enjoy a further with a smile, that during
his last two years in China thev had produced an air-conditioner which had been installed in his room.
The Chinese Episode
- 1972-79
industry was undergoing further 1975 the Government introduced its Nationalisation Bill for the industry, and 1976 was the last Farnborough Show at which Hawker Siddeley names appeared, as the company became part of British Aerospace. The time was fast approaching when the British industry would consist of one large conglomerate, and the famous names reminiscent of the golden years in British aviation would disappear. John retired from British Aerospace in 1980.
During
this period, the British aircraft
transformation.
On
1
May
199
•
Twenty-Nine
John Wilson Remembers home, Lamer HisLamer Lane on
hidden behind shrubbery
corner off the outskirts of Wheathampstead. A small driveway to Lamer House passes the Lodge, and climbs gently up a slope before disappearing over the brow. Early morning rain had given way to broken cloud, while a late October Sun had painted blue patches here and there as the mild wind brushed away the lower layer of mist. At least the weather was improving, which was a good portent for meeting a man who had been a close friend ofJohn Cunningham for half a century. He stepped out of the Lodge - tall, slim and extremely upright for one who had recently celebrated his 75th birthday. He was casually dressed, with strong features, prominent ears and a high forehead. We sat at a long table in the conservatory, facing beautiful green countryside, with clumps of beech trees on the side of the hill picturesquely sheltering the elegant late Victorian-style house. It was apparent that, like John Cunningham, his friend John Wilson enjoyed the country life. Before we got down to reminiscing, he turned to the author and explained that whenjohn Cunningham and Geoffrey de Havilland baled out of their Moth Minor in 1939, John had landed about 300 yards from where we were sitting. He had been told thatJean Paterson (of the Carter Paterson parcels family who then lived close by) had dismounted from her horse and watched John take out his camera to photograph his parachute, which was spread out on the ground. She was a well-built girl and took a fancy to this dashing young airman, and John's contemporaries pulled his leg for many years, advising him to keep clear of that part of Hertfordshire - he never took riding lessons! Lodge,
Wilson
first
met John
is
in 1948, shortly after
at a
Wing Commander
(later
Air Vice-Marshal) Bird- Wilson had recommended him. Cunningham had been looking for another experimental test pilot to join him and Derry and Geoffrey Pike. Wilson had been carrying out Tropical Trials on the Meteor 4 in Singapore in 1947 with 'Birdy' - both of them were in the Air Fighting Development Squadron at the Central Fighter Establishment, West Raynham. In 1948 Wilson had been back to Singapore to do the Vampire 3 trials.
200
John Wilson Remembers
.
.
.
He admitted that Cunningham was a bit daunting at that meeting:
'He
'and at that age and at that time, that was a big difference. As a young Flight Lieutenant, being interviewed by a famous Group Captain with a cluster of DSOs and DFCs did make me feel a little apprehensive, but he was very kind and I didn't have any problems in that sense. It was simply a matter of joining one day at
was
six years older
than
I
was',
he
said,
and test-flying the next!' Wilson mentioned that he had wanted to do development work because of his earlier Meteor 3 flying with 124 and 56 Squadrons, and interception evaluations at CFE. This led me to want to inquire into the whys and wherefores rather than be satisfied with production aircraft Hatfield
an established schedule' he said. He found Hatfield a wonderful and there was no difficulty in getting to know everyone. 'John Derry was married, but most of us were bachelors, and often met up in flats or pubs. John Cunningham's mother asked us to their house occasionally - she was a splendid person, and very like her son John in appearance, with the same facial bone structure, determination and charm. He was closer to his mother than to anyone else, and she had a great influence on him. At one time JC had a very attractive Norwegian girlfriend, and it was thought that she might be the one. But in the end she confronted him saying 'It's either me or your aeroplanes', and that was that!' Wilson recalled that they had tremendous fun competing with other testing to
place,
during various Air Races, each flying his own Company's on a handicapped basis. These were great occasions away from Hatfield, during which each pilot faced a competitive challenge in the spirit of the D.H. tradition, pioneered by Sir Geoffrey during the early
test pilots
aircraft
years.
However, most of the D.H.
test pilots were unhappy about their Cunningham has previously mentioned that pay levels in were low in comparison to other industries, and John Wilson
salaries -
aviation
emphasised
this point:
'One of the things
much were there
that bothered us
was
that John didn't
appear
to
make
of an effort to improve our pay - for experimental test flying the risks
when flying beyond established limits, where was a much greater chance of things going wrong. Pensions were
fairly high, especially
pitiful: I still
get the magnificent
sum
10 years of test flying at Hatfield!
of <£ 1 78 a year,
my pension for nearly
Not even index-linked
as
it
would be
today! It should be pointed out that John was never a man who wanted to build an empire for himself, which could have given him more power and prestige and allowed him more flexibility in seeking better salaries for his pilots. Sir Geoffrey and his stalwarts put the Company first, and operated with a
201
John tight
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
budgetary control, never for personal financial gain. John was very and very much the boss of his vital department at de Havillland,
similar,
but his pilots were
grumpy about
their pay,
and grew more so
subsequently married and had families. But they significant reflection
on
all
as they
stayed with John, a
his character.'
Two
years after Wilson joined D.H.,John Cunningham was best man wedding to Jane Joubert de la Ferte, whose uncle ACM Sir Philip Joubert had played a vital role in the development of airborne radar for night-fighter aircraft, particularly for the Beaufighter, in which John and Jimmy Rawnsley were so successful as a team. Meanwhile Wilson had taken part in the first flight of the Comet I prototype on 27 July 1949, John Cunningham's and Sir Geoffrey's birthday! Wilson explained that his Comet flying 'had covered only the first 100 hours or so'. Asked why he flew in the right-hand seat, he said John Cunningham had decided that John Derry would succeed him as Chief Test Pilot but, as he was realistic about surviving the Comet development programme, he planned for the possibility of his death, mindful of Geoffrey de Havillandjr's untimely end in the D.H. 108. 1 was considerably more expendable than John Derry (who had great leadership and at his
test-flying capabilities), so that's bit of a
dogsbody,
Christchurch built
why
I
got the Comet's right-hand seat -
really.
256 Sea Venom
Wilson made 738 Venom
all-weather fighters. This
test flights
(Dennis Baldry)
202
is
XG638, an FAW.21.John
John Wilson Remembers Rarely did
I
get
my hands
on the
.
.
flying controls -
.
I
was detailed
to
check
the engine rpm, raise the undercarriage, select flaps, things like that.
me a bit more, but he didn't and he flew it - he was bloodygood at it! But he was right, of course, because I had had no four-engine or large aircraft experience. Very wisely he brought in Peter Bugge, who had been flying as an airline captain with SAS, and served with him on Mosquitos during the War, and Peter took over from me on the Comet and I returned to Vampire and Venom development testing.' handed
Actually, John should have
operate like
JC had
that.
John was
it
over to
the Captain,
said to the author that
he never kept
diaries,
but
JW said:
he had Letts diaries for his appointments - they were very small pocket ones, with minute maps at the back. On long overseas flights, like to Khartoum for Tropical Trials, John used to pull his diary from his pocket, open it at one of these tiny maps and set course for Africa by it!' 'I
at
recall that
Wilson went on to say how much he enjoyed demonstrating the Comet the Farnborough Air Show in 1949. 'Our
Farnborough was 340 knots, very fast for an which had only been flying for three weeks. At that time we had
fly-past airspeed at
aircraft
not explored in great detail the handling characteristics
We had
Chris
Beaumont (Chief Test
Pilot of the
at
higher speeds.
D.H. Engine Company)
with us, and he stood at the entrance to the cockpit - every time
we
pulled
go round the corner Chris found the floor on which he was standing was bulging up. And there was a loud bang at that speed from the nose of the aircraft where the skin panted, so when we heard this bang we knew, without checking the airspeed indicator, that we were doing 340 knots. In later years we realised that these were indications of how flimsy 2V2-3
'g'
to
the structure really was.'
A
large number of Vampires were delivered by Hatfield pilots to the Swiss Air Force and it gave the opportunity to combine a short skiing holiday with business. John Wilson recalled that:
'On occasionjohn had got approval
to
of a delivery aircraft - one to each
boom. He had checked on
tion flight that they
have
made no measurable
his skis strapped to the
difference to drag
range, which was quite tight without drop-tanks for the
The Swiss thought it a splendid demonstration aircraft
and the Chief Test
1
booms
a produc-
and therefore
hr 20
min
flight.
of the versatility of both the
Pilot.
On 3 December
1949, John Derry, Chris Beaumont and I set out in three Vampires (mine wasj 1046) on a delivery to the Swiss Air Force at Lucerne. In those days there was no upper wind forecast available, nor could we talk to the
in the
ground on VHF radio en route- so we telephoned Emmen first thing morning and if the weather was then OK there, we set out. On this
203
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
occasion the ground could be seen from our cruise altitude of 35,000 ft we passed over Paris, when much lower cloud gave continuous cover
until
At about this point my cockpit canopy cracked and very quickly it and the three front screens iced over - up till then we had been in formation with Derry leading. I had to scrape the sidescreen with my nails to see Derry's aircraft, and when we started the let down (on a time-gone basis from take-off) I decided to continue down on my own. Unfortunately the Alps were largely hidden in low cloud and separately we made our descents to make contact with the ground. We all broke cover in the Sarnen Valley and made our way on to Emmen. When John Cunningham heard about the details of the flight, he was furious - quite rightly - so much so that he sent each of us a yellow Memo stating in the strongest language that such risky airmanship would never be tolerated again - the only time I recall him reprimanding a pilot in writing. In March 1950 when John was due to make a direct flight in Comet GALVG to Cairo and I was to deliver a Vampire (1502) to the Egyptian Air Force at the same airfield, I challenged him to make a race of it by giving me 2 hrs start. I had to land and refuel at Nice and again at Luqa in Malta and, although my airborne time was 5 hrs 50 min, the refuelling did not go well at Luqa and the elapsed time was 7 hrs 55 min. Much to my annoyfor the rest of the flight.
Operation Snowball: about
to deliver the
January 1950. Compared with hasJohn's skis strapped
to the
48th Vampire for the Swiss Fliegertruppe on 12
the first Swiss delivery the tail has been redesigned,
tailbooms! (British Aerospace)
204
and
this
one
John Wilson Remembers ance, John and the lost
my bet by
Comet were on
the
ground
.
.
in a
.
little
over 5 hrs and
I
40 minutes.'
Michael Majendie, who had captained the first BOAC Comet flight in had asked in his will for his ashes to be scattered in the air over south-east England. When the time came, many years later, the task fell to John Wilson and Peter Cane of Smiths Industries. 'We went up in a Trident 3 withJC, who was carrying out buffet boundary tests at high altitude', said Wilson, 'the aircraft was bare, with no furnishings, and we had only two seats right at the back of the cabin - it was one of the most disturbing flights I have ever experienced. At 35,000 ft the aircraft was bouncing and shaking so much that bits fell out of the urn we were carrying and it was not until much later at low altitude that the urn could be held near the pressurisation outflow valve, and the ashes disappeared 1952,
in a twinkling.
'Tm
had to carry out the of course, poor Majendie was dead
terribly sorry" John said, "but
I
programme first". He was right, and the test programme had to have priority.' But when Sir Geoffrey de Havilland died on 21 May 1965, careful arrangements were made to scatter his ashes from the sky. John flew a Trident low over the prehistoric Seven Barrows in the hills of Hampshire close to Middle Wallop fighter airfield, where he had been stationed during the War. The ashes were scattered over the field where Sir Geoffrey had flown his first successful aeroplane in 1910. John Cunningham's colleagues always mention his consummate skill and aptitude as a pilot, and he is undoubtedly in a class of his own. When John Wilson was asked if there had been any 'pilot errors' or near misses, other than his bale-out from a spinning Moth Minor and the 125 accident at Dunsfold, he recalled two occasions: John told me that, when he was flying low in a Blenheim at the beginning of the War, he very nearly hit some electric pylon cables near Dunstable, Bedfordshire, which would undoubtedly have finished him off. Secondly, and much later, there was the embarassment of a wheels-up landing at Luton airport in a 125. Peter Bugge was with him, and there was a fault with the horn switch on the throttles which, on throttling back for landing, should have warned him that his undercarriage was not lowered. Without checking for "3 green lights", he flared out above the runway but sank lower and lower. When the men with the crash tender arrived John had to look up to see them because his bottom was virtually on the runway.' Before we went to lunch at the local pub, where he often meets with John Cunningham, John Wilson said, T should point out that as well as being a superb aviator, John was a most valuable asset to the Sales Department - potential overseas buyers respected him enormously when he flew an aeroplane and gave it his approval. That meant a lot more to them than any salesman's blarney.' buffet
205
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
In 1957 John Wilson resigned as a Test Pilot to become Chief Operations Engineer in the de Havilland Design Department. He made the first flight of the D.H*1 10 Sea Vixen. He made the first flight of the
D.H.I 12 Venom, the
D.H.I 13 Vampire Trainer, and was named as He had made 426 flights in Vampires, 738 in Venoms and 196 in the Vixen. Asked why he made that decision, he said, 'After the D.H. 110 programme moved from Hatfield to Christchurch, I didn't want to move there or go back to being a co-pilot on transport aircraft - I have always been interested in mechanical engineering and it seemed to be an opportunity to combine my flight-testing experience with the need for a pilot's input to the engineering design organisation. I continued to use my pilot's licence and went willingly. I was not "posted"!' first
Assistant Chief Test Pilot.
Comet's
First Flight
Report:
When John
Wilson was talking about his Comet experience, he mentioned that he had John Cunningham's technical report of the first flight, on 27 July 1949, which is an historical document. It was entitled:
Hop
with
Crew:
J.
full flap,
Cunningham
J.W. Wilson
first flight.
Pilot
Second
Pilot
F.T.
Reynolds
Flight Engineer
A.J.
Fairbrother
Aero
H. Waters
A
and
Flight Test
Observer
Electrician
hop was made with full flap. The nosewheel was held off the ground until the speed had dropped to 50 knots; had the impression that could have put the tail bumper on to the runway. Immediately after this hop taxied back to the grass at the East end of the runway and prepared for take-off. The aircraft came off the ground in about 500 yards, and on reaching about 50 feet height selected u/c [wheels - Ed.] up. As the speed was increasing rather quickly throttled down to about 9,500 - 9,700 rpm and 135 kts [knots- Ed.]. About this moment the windscreen-wiper blade on the starboard side started to rotate: a position was found where it could be parked out of sight for the short
I
I
I
I
I
remainder of the
flight.
light, but very effective. The flap was taken off and very little trim change was noted. A climb was made towards a clear patch of sky at 9,750 rpm and 240 kts. jetPipe Temperatures of all engines showed 580° C and Rear Bearing 100° C. Engine Oil Temperatures were 63° C. in
The two
ailerons appeared rather stages,
206
John Wilson Remembers During the climb
at
200
kts
I
found
geared; the spring centring on
all
.
.
.
controls \er\ powerful and highk
controls produced a
all
pronounced
jerk
throughout the machine on releasing the control after slight displacement. On reaching 10,000 ft lowered 20° of flap and reduced speed to 100 kts and I
little change of trim noticeable. Marked strain on the outboard side or the inner flap near the scissor mechanism were noted from the rear of the cabin b\ Fairbrother. Wheels were next selected down, when it was noticed that no lights were showing, although the mechanical indicators showed Locked Down'. While Waters (Electrician) was checking the circuit breakers reduced speed to 80 kts. where there was still plent\ of control and no buffet. On replacing the circuit breakers noticed there was no green light for the port main wheel, although the mechanical indicator showed 'Down'. W heels and flaps were selected up and a descent made to 3,500 ft w ith the inboard engines throttled back. At 2.500 ft cruising at 8. "00 rpm on all four
lowered
full flap.
There was \er\
lines
I
I
240 kts. A gradual descent was made back
engines
I
was
indicating
during which it was 150-160 kts down the approach to land was completed
to the airfield,
extremely hard to lose speed. After a low fly-past
at
runwa\ a wide circuit was made, and the final 1 00 kts. The landing and touchdown were perfectk straightforward, and \er\ little braking was required ow ing to a fairly strong wind. Two points that need attention before long are: replacement of the two curved windscreens in the nose b\ screens that ha\e much better optical properties; also it is possible that the adjustment of the rudder pedals is insufficient. ,
at
DISTRIBUTION: Mr
Bishop.
Mr
Mr
Clarkson.
Wilkins, Aero Flight
Test. File.
John Wilson quipped that Fairbrother wrote Cunningham disliked writing anything!
Comet
the report because John
Flight 24:
FLIGHT TEST REPORT BY J.W. WILSON Comet G-ALVG, 18 August 1949:
Flight f
24
High Altitude, high Mach \o. Levelling off
at
40.000
ft.
at
10,000 rpm, speed was allowed
di\e was carried out to maintain 0.80 M,
descending
spiral 'g'
was applied
to build up: a slight
when bank was
applied.
progressi\el\ to a max. of 2.9 at 3~.000
In
a
tt
at
Mach 0.79, at which point buffet 'which had started at 2.5 ^ was pronounced. No tightening, no wing drop, but sharp and fairly rapid pitching until 'g' was reduced
to 2.5.
207
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
speed was allowed to build up at 10,000 rpm. In ft, 0.80 at 42,000 ft and 0.832 at dive.^Slight buffet and straight a feeling of being near the [tranft in a 40,000 sonic] drag rise. Speed was 255 kts IAS at 40,000 ft, pulling out at 0.83 at Levelling off at 45,000
the dive,
Mach 0.70 was
ft,
attained at 43,000
M
38,000
ft,
where
was noticed. Bearing temperature] showed 180°C
a small increase in buffet with application of
'g'
On the 3rd dive, No 2 engine RB [Rear 43,000 ft and was throttled back to idling, the remaining three set to 1 0,000 rpm and dive commenced. Mach 0.80 was attained at 40,000 ft, increasing to Mach 0.84 at 38,000 ft where definite buffet evident in pitch; ailerons unaffected and response good. No sign of trim change either visually or in stick movement. These characteristics are much the same as a good Vampire 0.01 0.02 below compressibility stall or trim change. at
[For these flights there
was very
wearing pressure masks writing
cabin pressure and the crew were oxygen, making speech and note-
little
to breathe
difficult]
208
Thirty
The Reluctant Hero and biography has been written to put on record the This achievements of an extraordinary man, who became a legendary life
figure in aviation history in
war and
in peace.
The
archivist of
Whitgift School, where he was educated, wrote of him,
'I do not have to extremely modest, retiring and unassuming, qualities that did not bring him to great prominence at School, which he left in December 1934 from the Science VI form'. Those qualities were to remain with him throughout his life, and to categorise him as a reluctant
tell
you
that
he
is
hero.
Such a person, however, can present problems for a biographer, Cunningham, who had previously always declined their approaches. His natural modesty and distaste for personal promotion has made him unaware of the inspirational effect he has had on people, not only in the aviation industry but on the public at large. It is incredible that this book is the first that has ever been written about him. Not until he was 80 was he persuaded by Air Vice-Marshal Freddie Hurrell to go on record, because he owed it to the many people who supported and admired him. Moreover, such a book avoids the inaccuracies that would occur from revisionist historians. The first visit to Canley, John's house, was fascinating in that the house especially John
revealed a great deal about him. He appeared smiling, dressed in country attire in a loose shirt, pullover and corduroy trousers. In the entrance hall the walls were adorned by a painting of the prototype Comet jetliner and plaques bearing the badges of 85 and 604 Squadrons. A hall table supported a statuette and some envelopes, while, in the long lounge, tables groaned under many books, papers and magazines in tidy piles. Extremely large picture windows showed a wide expanse of grass, bordered by clusters of trees. An elegant antique settee in faded colours faced a fireplace blocked by an electric fire. Two well-worn armchairs were separated by a long grey footstool standing on a coloured rug. A sly glance through the dining-room door, which was ajar, disclosed a large table, likewise stacked with more piles of papers. Aviation pictures and a few scattered gifts completed the scene.
itself
Except
for the television set, everything
209
about the place was old-
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
was obvious that little money had been spent on reground floor was John's working area, and there was no sign that he entertained at home. He explained that he was always busy signing prints, writing forewords, answering queries, attending meetings and working for voluntary organisations, which kept him fully fashioned, and
furbishment.
it
The
entire
occupied. It wasn't exactly a good start when I heard him say that he never kept diaries, and only wrote the occasional letter, pointing out that he had always had a competent secretary, who looked after his affairs during his working life. But, he said, all his log-books were upstairs. It was with some trepidation that I put the tape recorder on the footstool, plugged it in, and sat facing him. His blue eyes looked straight at me, and he answered my questions in a cultured voice, but was most economical with his words. His replies were straightforward, but with no embellishment, and it soon became apparent why those previously seeking his biography had retreated!
BMW
On my first visit he had apologised for his old car, saying that he couldn't afford a later model. This was housed in the adjoining stables, which had been converted into garages which also housed his large siton mower. We lunched each day at his local pub, on the outskirts of Harpenden. As we entered, the locals would say, 'Morningjohn, Good Morning John', and he would smile. Everybody knew him, as he had been a resident for over 50 years, and they obviously liked his casual style and charm. Our customary lunch consisted of plaice and chips with a pint of real ale, and in the comfortable atmosphere of the old pub we talked about RAF characters and aeroplanes. During our many meetings, these lunch breaks were great fun, during which John's sense of humour became more and more apparent, despite two hours of tape recording in the morning. During these sessions he would gradually unwind and talk more easily about associates, events, aeroplanes and problems, but almost never about deeper personal issues. He was naturally shy in this respect, although he would give straight and honest answers to personal questions. When asked why he had never married, for example, he had no hesitation in relating the story of his two engagements during the War, and on the third very sad occasion, when his wife-to-be suddenly died. T had tried three times,' he said, 'and I thought that it would be third time lucky. But it was not to be.' I had great expectations that the War period, during which he achieved great fame, might induce him to be more expansive about his accomplishments. When questioned, he suddenly handed me a paperback entitled Night Fighter. 'It's all in there', he said with a smile. 'It was written by my navigator Jimmy Rawnsley, together with Bob Wright, who also served with me.' I was dumbfounded. John's apparent intention to bale out, and not tell me about his personal wartime experiences, in his own 210
The Reluctant Hero R
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£ 211
John 'Cats
Eyes'
Cunningham
words, came as a crushing blow, and I didn't think he realised the implication of what he had just said and done. Thumbing through some of the pages and glancing at photographs, I made an excuse to call it an early day, and returned home in some despair. After reading the book, I began to understand what had been in John's mind when he had rather abruptly handed it over. It was extremely well written, and provided almost a week-by-week record of his activities during the entire War. Furthermore, his character, style and professionalism emerged via his navigator. John's records included only his log-books and media references - there were no letters or diaries. John
and Jimmy had shared most of their War experiences, both in the cockpit and on the ground. John's war was indeed all there, and Jimmy had described it in a masterly fashion, which John could never have done. Thus, the book presented a platform for me to question John, and get his personal reactions. So, on my next visit I enthused about Night Fighter, and thanked him for giving me a signed copy. John was very amusing when first questioned about the night-fighter business. With a twinkle in his eye, he said that it was all a question of Newton's Law. He emphasised that a night-fighter pilot had to maintain control of his aircraft, totally reliant on his instruments to avoid the clutches of Sir Isaac. 'Newton's Law', he went on, 'Newton's Law, that's what it was all about'. He seemed almost boyish as he pointed out that what goes up must come down, but under control, and not like Newton's apple!
During our tape-recording sessions concerning the
War
period, John
talked enthusiastically about his involvement in the development of Air
Interception (AI) radar, as a pioneering operator. His collusion with scientists and technicians was ongoing. Thus he had a double function, one as ace night-fighter pilot and commanding officer, and the other in technical development and application. To carry out this dual role he had to become inured to casualties and stress. Wartime operational fighter pilots had to condition themselves to the acceptance of life on a day-today basis over long periods. The adage of 'living it up today because there might be no tomorrow', became a way of life for them. Furthermore, when associates disappeared, no further mention of them was made, except perhaps, 'Fred has had it'. But their prime function was to take off
and do
next day. time to indulge in 'living it up', because he was so preoccupied with the radar business and his other activities that the thought of 'no tomorrow' never occurred to him. He simply carried on with the job in hand, as he has said time and again. That required great strength battle the
John had
little
of character and self-discipline. To help me with background material he handed me other books, including Sir Geoffrey de Havilland's autobiography, and Martin Sharp's
212
The Reluctant Hero history of de Havilland.John
had spent most of his working
life
Company, and these two books provided the atmosphere and
with the
the people
involved, together with technical details of de Havilland aeroplanes, research, outstanding flights, records and political influences throughout. These proved invaluable in providing topics for discussion, and charting
John's ongoing story.
During these many interview sessions I discovered that there were life which particularly exposed his personality and style, when faced with disastrous events beyond his control. Triumph and disaster often walk hand in hand. The enormous success of the Comet lasted nearly two years, during which the world's first jet airliner became the embodiment of British pride. The name of de Havilland reverberated around the globe, asjohn flew this beautiful aircraft, making record flights from one country to another, while at home people with wartime memories were delighted to find that 'Cat's-eyes' Cunningham, who had done so much to defend them during night blitzes, was now the certain occasions injohn's
Comet
test pilot.
Worldwide media focused on this fantastic revolutionary jet airliner, and on John Cunningham himself. D.H. were on the threshold of securing tremendous revenues, and enormous prestige for British civil aviation. It looked as ifJohn would be controlling a much-enlarged flighttesting division with more finance available, more kudos, and more security. But those thoughts never occurred to him, because he was not an individualist by nature, and creating a personal empire for selfadvancement was simply not his style. He always saw himself as playing his own particular role in the de Havilland team, and had no other ambitions to further himself. There was nothing mercenary about him. His working life had been conditioned by the D.H. pioneers such as Sir Geoffrey, Bishop, Nixon, Walker, Hearle and Povey, who were hardheaded and practical men. Nevertheless, he was approaching the zenith of an illustrious career when, through no fault of his own, on 10 January 1954, a Comet I disintegrated in flight, killing all on board. He was 36 when this disaster reared its ugly head, and it continued to strike. Disbelief, coupled with despair, might well have made a lasting mark on a lesser man. But not John. His reaction when confronted by calamity always remained the same: he was inured to it. As usual, he would then point out, quite simply, that he had a job to do and he had to get on with it. There were no recriminations as far as he was concerned, only a determination to get the reconditioned Comets back into service, and to start flight-testing the new series. His concern was primarily for his associates who had worked so hard to create the aircraft.
The Trident affair was another example. He knew perfectly well that the original concept could have gained a large slice of world markets. 213
John There was
talk of
estimate. After the
'Cat's Eyes'
500 Tridents
Cunningham and this was a conservative success was going to be central to
for export,
Comet disasters,. its
D.H. As previously described, the State-owned customer's decisions destroyed its potential, and subsequently Hawker Siddeley took over the Company. During tape-recordings John had talked most enthusiastically about the original concept, but repeated that D.H. had no alternative but to comply with BEA's short-sighted demands. The Chairman of BEA, Lord Douglas, had been a friend of John for many years, but there was no sign or indication that John had made use of their relationship. He was never a man to cross the Rubicon in that respect, and always confined himself within the boundaries of professional etiquette. As with the Comet, he was disappointed that things hadn't worked out as they should have done, but his sadness was for his colleagues, whose tremendous efforts had not been rewarded. It was quite remarkable that, throughout his 32 years as Chief Test Pilot, he had only one accident, involving injury to himself, which prevented him from flying. This alone is a tribute to his high standard of professionalism. Following the accident to the 125 at Dunsfold, he got back in the cockpit as soon as he could. After this tragic incident, which he was powerless to prevent, his resilience and determination to resume his heavy workload was typical of the man - he was then 58 years old, and had just recovered from an injured back. He had reached an extended age limit for retirement, when most men would have happily called it a day. But once the Chinese demanded his continued presence, to fulfil the contract, he was only too delighted to acquiesce. The Chinese episode had been a most enjoyable and fascinating experience for him, and he liked flying the little 125 around the world. These two tasks dominated the close of his flying career, before he really did face the prospect of retirement.
John was then in his early sixties, when most men entering retirement look forward to taking life easy, and making plans to do all the things that had eluded them during their working life. But John did not slide into obscurity. He put his heart and soul into extending the charitable work that he had always undertaken for aviation societies during his working life.
He
said,
'My
after retirement. I after all
my
problem was the lack of a competent secretary had always had one while working, and she had looked
biggest
affairs.'
had to get down to dealing with a heavy influx of mail, keeping an engagements diary, answering phone calls and becoming his own secretary. As time went on, the demands on his time and presence increased. He was still a Deputy Lieutenant of the Greater London Council, Chairman of the de Havilland Flying Foundation, President of the Bedfordshire and Buckinghamshire Aircrew Association, President of the 604 and 85 Squadron Associations,
John
disliked administration, but
214
The Reluctant Hero a Liveryman of the Guild of Air Pilots and Air Navigators, and heavily involved with the Battle of Britain Fighter Association and the Royal Air Force Club. In 1980 John was appointed Chairman of the Sir Geoffrey de Havilland Flying Foundation, a charity devoted to assisting young people interested in aviation. Among other things the Foundation makes an award each year to the top cadets from around the country at RAF Cranwell. John is delighted to make the presentation in person. He has a very wide circle of friends, and maintains close contact with all
Many honours have been bestowed upon him for
aspects of aviation.
a CBE (Commander of the Order of the British Empire). Thus, his voluntary workload gave him little opportunity to step out of the limelight and put his feet up. Money had never been a prime consideration for John, and he knew his great contribution to air transport,
little
and he
is
about handling financial matters. However,
was appointed
to the Aircraft
Company board
the innermost workings of a large
this
changed Having
in 1958.
company gave him
after
he
to learn
a valuable insight
management, and brought him some confidence in his ability to invest wisely. It also persuaded him not to invest in aircraft manufacture! Without professional advice, he gradually began buying stock in Blue Chip firms, and by chance happened to be buying at a rock-bottom price. Over the years his investments made him, by any yardstick, a rich man. Then a colleague suggested that he should become a Member of Lloyds, explaining that many senior officers had done so, and that it was a natural thing for him to do. He had no financial worries at this time. He had back-up services to maintain his acres of land, and domestic help. He had always liked his car, and his current saloon was quite adequate for his needs. Canley, his home, was in the heart of de Havilland country, and many old associates were living in the vicinity. Two of his test pilots, John Wilson and Desmond Penrose, lived in Wheathampstead, a village a few miles away. Life was an ongoing sequel to his lifelong dedication to aviation, and his love of the Hertfordshire countryside. Yet, once again, the ugly Finger of Fate beckoned, and he was faced into
its
costings
and
financial
BMW
with financial disaster.
He was 71 at the time, in the evening of his life and, as usual, fully occupied with aviation affairs, mostly of a charitable nature. His friends had heard him say in his casual way, Tt's nice to be able to put something back in.' Then, in 1988, Lloyds collapsed, and he was a Member - a socalled 'Name'. Few Members were aware, initially, what was in store for them financially. But many people, like John, were committed to 'unlimited liability', and soon found themselves facing financial ruin. John had never been confronted with money worries during his life, and he had been encouraged to become a Member of Lloyds because 215
John
'Cat's Eyes'
Cunningham
over a long period it had proved to be an attractive proposition for retired senior officers. Following the collapse and the prolonged investigations, John was faced with an enormous liability. In order to meet this huge debt, he was forced to remortgage his property and land, leaving him with only a very small income upon which he could just manage, if he lived frugally.
At least John was able to continue living in the house, and in the surroundings which had been an integral part of his life. But this catastrophe was a cruel blow for any man or family. Some Members committed suicide, while others simply vanished, being forced to leave their homes, and drop out of their existing lifestyles. John mentioned his problem to me as a statement of fact, while pointing out that he was fortunate in being able to remain at Canley. But in 1998, he told me that he had later had to find, at short notice, a further significant sum, because he was inextricably involved with four syndicates still operating. There was a touch of bitterness in his voice, because it had to come out of what was now an almost empty pot, after very careful handling of the earlier ruinous sum. Unfortunately the financial upheaval wasn't his only problem, because subsequently he suffered a serious illness. Undoubtedly the financial affair had put a great strain on him, although he was not the sort of person to be bitter about it. He had always enjoyed robust health, and these two major set-backs, coming at a more advanced age, presented a challenge to which a lesser man might have succumbed, John not only came through his ordeal, but continued the daily routine which had totally occupied him since retirement. It was often difficult for
me
a day in any one week to do tape-recordings! He still he confessed to being unenthusiastic about trips to London. On most occasions we completed three hours of tape work and informal talk during each session. The lunches in the local,
him
to find
travels a great deal, although
however, did much to revive us! It wasn't the alcohol, because John would just have his customary pint of real ale, and very rarely topped it up with a second half. He didn't smoke, and his disciplined life enabled him to maintain his schedule. He gave no sign of becoming tired during our sessions, and neither did his voice lose its resonance. There is a boyishness about him, which bubbled up when he was relating a
humorous
He
incident.
never escape from the 'Cat's-eyes' label. The Aeroplane magazine of October 1998 displayed a photograph of him captioned, .John will
'.
.
Cunningham, who tested many of the company's aircraft including the Comet, and gained wartime prominence as night-fighter pilot "Cat'seyes" Cunningham'. The article described a test pilots' reunion at Popham Airfield on 14 July. Other D.H. test pilots who were present, most of whom have been mentioned in this book, included John Wilson, 216
The Reluctant Hero Jimmy
Phillips, Pat Fillingham,
Chris Capper,
Ron
Clear, Peter
Bugge
and George Aird. This unique event, brought about by the generosity of Rolls-Royce, was an occasion for reminiscing about the golden years of British aviation, and its personalities. John was smiling in his photograph, and obviously happy to be with the fraternity. Many of the events described in this book were mentioned in conversation - not least that 2 7 July 1999, John's 82nd birthday, is the 50th anniversary of the first flight of the Comet! Finally, due to John's shy and retiring nature, writing this biography has not been easy. He is not alone in this respect. Other men, who have achieved legendary fame, have never overcome this same trait of character. During our close association, as the events of his life unfolded, I was stimulated by his charm, sincerity, humour and total dedication to his profession. His resilience when overcoming disasters, and his reluctance to discuss his triumphs, made a deep impression. It is a measure of the man that, throughout the aviation industry, he is revered as a true gentleman and 'really good chap'. On a less serious note, I was recently asked what book I was writing, and I replied that it was the biography of 'Cat's-eyes' Cunningham. 'Well, he didn't get much out of it', the chap said. 'Mind you', he continued, 'those things in the middle of the road were a bloody marvellous invention. Wonderful for us motorists.'
217
Appendix One German
probably destroyed and damaged by John
aircraft destroyed,
Cunningham
in 1940-44.
Date
Result
Radar
Ju88 He 111 He 111
Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Probable (Night)
Phillipson Phillipson Phillipson
He He He
Damaged
Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley
Type
operator
With 604 Sqn (Beaufighter) 19 Nov 40 23 Dec 40
2 Jan 41 12 Jan 41 15 Feb 41
March March
41 41 3 April 41 7 April 41 9 April 41 11 April 41 11 April 41 15 April 41 15 April 41 15 April 41 3 May 41 7 May 41 1 June 41 22 Aug 41 22 Aug 41 1 Sept 41 4 April 42 23 May 42 12 12
111 111 111
(Night)
Destroyed (Night)
Damaged Damaged
Ju88
He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 He 111 Ju88 He 111 He 111
(Night) (Night)
Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Probable (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night) Destroyed (Night)
Damaged
(Night)
Destroyed (Night)
Damaged
(Day)
Destroyed (Day)
With 85 Sqn (Mosquito) 13 June 43 23 August 43 8 Sept 43 2 Jan 44 20 Feb 44 23 Feb 44
Fw Fw Fw
190 190 190
Me
410
Destroyed Destroyed Destroyed Destroyed
Damaged
Ju 188 Ju 188
6
(4
He
1 1
1,
1
Ju
(Night) (Night) (Night)
(Night)
Probable (Night)
Destroyed: 20 (14 He 111, 2 Ju Probably destroyed: 3 (2 Hel 1
Damaged:
(Night)
88,
]
88,
3Fw
190,
lju 188) lju 188) ,
219
1
Me
410)
Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley Rawnsley
Appendix Aircraft flight-tested
Two
by John Cunningham before World War
2:
D.H.82A Tiger Moth D.H.87B Hornet Moth (nosewheel) D.H.89A Dragon Rapide D.H.94 Moth Minor D.H.94 Moth Minor experimental versions D.H.94C Moth Minor Coupe Airspeed Oxford Aircraft tested
by John Cunningham during the War:
Numerous, but specifically including D.H.98 Mosquito (Mk I and Mk II prototypes and various Gloster F.9/40 Meteor (Halford H.l Goblin) DG207 Aircraft for
which John Cunningham had
later
marks)
responsibility as Chief Test
Pilot:
D.H.98 Mosquito, especially NF.36 and NF.38 D.H.100 Vampire, all single-seat marks to FB.9, Sea Vampire F.20 and export versions
D.H.100 Vampire Ghost testbed Avro Ghost-Lancastrian testbed D.H. 103 Hornet F.3 D.H.103 Sea Hornet F.20 and NF.21 D.H. 104 Dove, all versions up to final Series 8, Devon and Sea Devon D.H. 106 Comet prototype, and Series I, 1A, 2X, 2, 2E, C.2, T.2, 3, 4, 4B, 4C and C.4 D.H.108 D.H.I 10, Sea Vixen 20X prototype and Sea Vixen FAW.l and FAW.2 D.H.I 12 Venom prototypes and Venom FB.l and FB.4 D.H. 1 12 Venom NF.2 and NF.3 D.H.I 12 Sea Venom prototype, NF.20, FAW.2 1 and FAW.22
220
Appendix
Two
D.H.I 13 Vampire NF prototypes and NF.10 D.H.I 14 Heron prototype, Series IB and 2A to 2E, C.3, C.4 and Sea Heron D.H.I 15 Vampire Trainer and Vampire T.l 1 and Sea Vampire T.22 DHC-1 Chipmunk T.10 and Mks 20-23 Hawker Siddeley Trident 1, 1C, IE, 2E, 3B and 3B-104 (3B Super)
The
pilots
who
flew the large fleet of aircraft based on the north side of by de Havilland Engines, de Havilland Propellers and
Hatfield (operated
Hawker Siddeley Dynamics, mainly on engine, propeller and missile development) came under John Cunningham's responsibility, but he did not usually fly any of these aircraft. After his retirement he deliberately allowed his licence to lapse.
221
Bibliography Aircraft types de Havilland Aircraft since 1909, A J. Jackson - an outline ofde Havilland History, C. Martin Sharp Mosquito, C. Martin Sharp and J.F Bowyer de Havilland Comet, Derek Dempster
DH
M
D.H 108, Henry Matthews Hawker Siddeley Trident, Max Hawker: Story of the Beaufighter,
125, Bill
Kingsley-Jones
Gunston
Chaz Bowyer
Radar and night interception Night fighter, Jimmy Rawnsley and Robert Wright Night fighters,
Bill
Gunston
Cover ofDarkness, Roderick Chisholm Night Intruder, Jeremy Howard-Williams Avionics, Bill
Gunston
Radar, a Wartime Miracle, Colin Latham Confounding the Reich, Operational History of Radar, Martin
Bowman
General Sky Fever, Sir Geoffrey de Havilland Test Pilots, the Story of British Test Flying
1903-84,
Don Middleton
40 Years at Farnborough, John Blake and Mike Hooks Raymond Baxter's Farnborough Commentary I Kept no Diary, F.R. 'Rod' Banks Genesis of the Jet, John Golley Not Much of an Engineer, Sir Stanley Hooker
222
Index Because they change, ranks have been omitted
AI radar AI.
V
30, 33
AI. VII
156, 168, 169
Overseas Airways (BOAC)
British
64
AI. VIII
European Airways (BEA)
British
46, 59
76,
127, 140, 150, 165
94
ALX
83,88,91,93
Airco
170
Bugge, Peter 140, 173, 194 Burke, Aubrey 106, 168, 173, 175
George 217 100 Air Defence of GB 156 Airspeed Ambassador Horsa 129 Oxford 28, 104 Anderson, Michael 15,31,36,38, Aird,
48 Appleton, Charles Ashfield, F/O 38 Avening 66
Avro 504K
504N
Cannon, Bernard 40 Capper, Chris 186,217 42 China, People's Republic 189 Chisholm, Roderick 34, 48, 65, 67 Clarkson, R.M 115
carrots
Coltishall
9
Banks, Francis R. 'Rod' Barlow, Peter 177, 181
John,
113 185
141
Blenheim 205
38
1
never married
141
on D.H Board resume 209
171
107
Moth
D.H.94 Moth Minor 12, 17, 21, 22, 200 D.H. 95 Flamingo/Hertfordshire 24,31 D.H.98 Mosquito 28 et seq, 39, 46, 70,72,76,77,91, 101, 106 D.H. 100 Vampire 99, 116, 203 D.H. 106 Comet 124 et seq, first flight 135,206
u
Bristol
victory
21
et seq
Bristol Beaufighter
first
de Havilland D.H.87B Hornet
158
bomb",John's 32 Brabazon Committee 123 Brackstone-Bro wn, E 1 80, Bristol 200 and 205 170
104
return to de Havilland
Beamont, R.R 'Bee' 106, 168 Beaumont, Christopher 113, 203 Bentley Priory 36, 37 Bird-Wilson, H.A.C 200 Bishop, Ronald E. 100, 137, 146, 58
7,
99
Bill
13
Bois, Peter
184,217 54
Croydon 10 Cunningham family
Lancastrian (Ghost)
boffins
Ron
Clear,
48, 55
8
1, 36, 37, 57 2,20,24,31,41,
accidents:
Karachi Calcutta
223
Rome 157 160
157
John 'Cats de Havilland D.H.106 Comet Elba 161 Stromboli 162 Series 1A 149, 165 Series 2 150,167
Hawker Demon
168, 173, 174
168, 177, 182
13,
16
Henley
165, 167, 176
4C
37,
120, 163
152, 159, 160, 165,
Series
100
Hall, A.A. (later Sir Arnold)
177 Series 4
4B
Cunningham
Halford, Maj Frank
(cont'd)
Series 3
Series
Eyes'
32 Hawker Siddeley 125 179, 195, 205 Trident 172 et seq, 190 Hillary, Richard 67 Hooker, S.G. (later Sir Stanley) 195, 198 Hunsdon 69, 74 Hunter, Alistair 15
D.H.108 111, 115, 118, 128 D.H.I 10 and Sea Vixen 153, 178 D.H.I 12 Sea Venom 202 D.H.118 169 D.H.121 169, then see Hawker
Hurrell, F.C.
India
Siddeley Trident
209
xii,
105 104
Ireland
D.H.125 see Hawker Siddeley T.K. aircraft, see T.K. de Havilland Engines Ghost 134 Goblin 100 Sprite 134, 156 de Havilland into Hawker Siddeley 175 de Havilland Enterprise 119, 145 de Havilland, Capt (later Sir) Geoffrey 11, 111, 142, 143,205 de Havilland, Geoffrey Jr 22, 1 10, 111
Deny, John
Jackson, Derek 48, 58 Joubert de la Ferte, Sir Philip 37 Jane (Mrs John Wilson) 202
King George VI 50 Kinsbourne Green 107, 141 Langer,
(later
Lord)
35, 50,
Hptmn
Cherwell)
KGr.100 Elliot, Bill (Sir
William) 181
Manston
map Tony 135, 206 Farnborough, see Royal Aircraft Establishment Fighter Interception Unit 59, 65, 89,99 Fillingham, Pat 217
Fairbrother,
Focke-Wulf 190
1,
156 78
33
Gravesend
33
xiv
of interception
Majendie, A.M.A.
Maynardjohn
149,
Nelson,
Bob
157, 161, 162
106,
142 40, 111
205
118, 142, 150, 157,
161, 163, 175 Messerschmitt 410 82, 83 Middle Wallop 1,33,55 Murray Jones, A 145
145
Gibbins, George
Lord
41,42,60
Nixon, Wilfred E. Garratt, Phil
(later
32
37, 48, 55
Errington, George
Flight Refuelling
84
215
Lloyds
Luftwaffe bases
52, 169, 171
63,
Lindemann, Professor
114, 118, 119, 129, 153
Douglas, Sholto
88
Junkers 188
29 North Weald Northolt
224
29, 70
1
12,
1
19,
Index 189
Pakistan International
Desmond
Penrose,
187, 190 Phillips,
Jimmy
179, 188
9
Phillips, Percival
38,40,41
Phillipson,John Pike, Geoffrev
86
R&D
Sinclair, Sir
Tangmere Radar, see AI Ramsden, Michael Rangoon 105
2
1
RAF etc,
see Royal Rawnslev, Jimmy" 1, 14 etseq, 104 Reynolds, Frank 135, 206 k
'
Richards,
Tony
153
et
seq
Rolls-Royce
Avon
'
195 150, 168
Medwav
194
171 99,
132, 162
Royal Air Force 85 Sqn 69 et seq Royal Auxiliary Air Force 604 Sqn '
3
Telecommunications Flying Unit 58 Telecommunications Research Est. 58 test pilots 121,216 Tizard. H.T. (later Sir Henry) 36 T.K.2 12, 17 T.K.4 17, 18 Trigg, Bert
Spey 172, 195 Roval Aircraft Establishment '
Walker, C.C. 147 Waters, Harold 135,206 West Mailing 77, 92 77 Welkin, Westland Wheeler, A.H. 40 Whittle,
114
13, 16 etseq,
F
(later Sir
etseq,
St Barbe, Francis
Salisbury
64
Establishment Archibald 2 Smith, Barry 194 Smith, J. Phil 11, 17, 147 Sopley 3, 42, 52 Swannington 103 Tamblin, W.A 156 Signals
177, 179, 184,
E.N
Ian
146
55
Salisbury Hall
Saunders, Sir 100, 105
29
Hugh
'Dingbat'
Frank)
100, 123
148
182
Wilkins, C.T.
115, 147, 171
Wilson, John
133, 177, 181,
seq
77,
Worth Matr avers
22 =
37, 58
200
et
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