fuselage tank plus external stores,
bombs, six machine guns and armour plate,
make that 12,000lb. I had previously flown
a T-6 Harvard and had thought how huge it
was but, strangely, now it appeared almost
toy-like in comparison.
WWII fighter jocks could afford to look
cool as they climbed onto the wheels to
get up to the cockpit−today there is a
thoughtfully provided spring-loaded step
in the flap: put your left foot in, grab the
canopy rail with your right hand and
launch yourself up so that your right foot
lands on the wing. Climb inside the
cockpit by standing on the cushion and
then shimmying down into the seat.
First impressions? Head height is eight
feet-plus and the cockpit is higher-up and
couldn’t even operate his aircraft for that
amount in Britain−it costs way, way more
when we’re paying per litre for fuel what
the Yanks pay per gallon.)
In my ten hours of training on the
Mustang the fuel flow never went below
63gph: during upper air work it was often
in the high eighties. And, as with fuel, all
the other day-to-day bills coming in when
living with a WWII fighter in the USA are
generally in dollars what British owners
are paying out in pounds. If you don’t
have the means to do an entire course or
even a whole hour, Stallion 51 will roll out
a Mustang for just a thirty-minute hop. A
flight in one should be on every pilot’s
bucket list.
The Kissimmee region of Florida is devoted
to Disney−Disneyworld is just down the
road and you can see references to Mickey
Mouse et al everywhere. As I sit typing
these impressions in the hotel foyer, the
song Let it Go is playing on closed loop on
the PA (aha−the concierge has disappeared
and I’ve just nipped round the desk and
turned it off!) Yes it is Disneyville or Tourist
Town USA, but I’m on my own kind of
pilgrimage. That first look into Stallion 51’s
hangar took my breath away. There, in a
space so clean it could be an operating
theatre, are parked not one but four
Mustangs; three company-run, two-seater
TF-51s and a single-seat P-51D
fighter... Oh and an L39
Albatros jet (to be honest, I
hardly noticed that one!)
Unlike the Spitfire, the
two-seat Mustang isn’t
compromised in terms of C of
G by the addition of a rear
cockpit and its occupant. In
fact the single-seaters were
often flown with 25 gallons of
fuel remaining in the fuselage
tank behind the cockpit to
keep the C of G aft. The
two-seater’s rear cockpit is
where the fuselage tank
would be on a single-seater
and the weight of an adult plus parachute
is roughly the same as 25 gallons of fuel.
Some say the TF actually flies better than
the fighter (but some don’t). In fact, they
sell for thirty to forty per cent more. I’d
say flying is a team sport and there’s
nothing better than taking your family and
friends with you−especially in a Mustang.
Loads of fuel – and lots of weight
The Mustang is a big machine. With a total
of 225 gallons of fuel in its wing tanks (two
mains and an auxiliary in the right ammo
compartment) and two-up, we were
topping out at 8,000lb. In wartime, with the
Beyond the PPL | Mustang Conversion
http://www.pilotweb.aero Pilot April 2015 | 25
The fuel flow never went below
63gph: during upper air work it
was often in the high eighties
You have to be there to appreciate the fantastic sound
PHOTOS: ANDY BERSHAW