8 FlightJournal.com
DEATH AT DAYBREAK
This over, we left the dispersal carrying our
parachutes and moved towards the waiting
Tempests. As we re-entered the cold air, it
cut sharply into my lungs; the tip of my
nose numbed as it inhaled the freezing air.
Some of the bricks underfoot were slippery,
and I watched my footing. The Eastern sky
brightened slightly, and the brooding shapes
of our waiting aircraft became visible against
this lightening horizon. Small patches of
ground mist clung to the surface of the
perimeter track. An airman stood waiting
on the wing of my aircraft. He took the
parachute from me and dropped it into the
cockpit. I climbed in, settled on the parachute
and strapped myself in securely. The airman
jumped down and stood holding the fire
extinguisher close to the exhaust stubs as I
readied for starting.
Explosions from the starting cartridges
broke the silence of the morning. The
reluctant propellers struggled, stopped, spun
again, caught the air and then settled into
smooth operation. Hyphen taxied his aircraft
forward and trundled down the perimeter
track in that gray, mournful dawn. A frozen
airman sitting on the wingtip gave him
guidance. We followed in the order earlier
decided. Hyphen, together with his no. 2,
turned onto the runway, cleared his motor,
waved to the no. 2 and blasted off into the
Tempest F.5 Prototype HM595 in original configuration. (Photo courtesy of Joe Gertler)Tempest V, WD-K, EJ713 of 80 Squadron. (Photo courtesy of Joe Gertler)Hawker Co. photo of Tempest F.5, JN729. (Photo courtesy of Joe Gertler)