Fly Past

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F LYPOST
FlyPast, PO Box 100, Stamford, Lincs, PE9 1XQ, UK
email: [email protected]


82 FLYPAST April 2018


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A more civilised time


I was interested in the photos in
the Glory Days spread of early
jet liners at Heathrow (FlyPast,
March), and it reminded me of
a dawn landing that brought a
friend and myself back from RAF
service in Cyprus in January
1 9 5 7.

No jet was involved, but we joined
a lovely Vickers Viscount at Athens,
off a Middle East Airlines Dakota
from Nicosia. As the photo shows,
passenger movement was basically
‘shanks’ pony’. We walked across
the puddled concrete apron in
the rain, into the reception area. I

cannot remember any details of the
customs, baggage, immigration,
passport control systems... perhaps
there were none, or they were very
casual and passenger-friendly. What
is notable to me is the emptiness
of the place; the lack of security

lights, cameras, personnel and so
on, and the general air of civilised
behaviour. It was a time when
life was generally less hectic and
more enjoyable.
NICK RIDLEY
BANBURY

Stirling thoughts
Congratulations on the February
issue of FlyPast, which I found not
only interesting but personally
relevant.
Two of my grandmother’s
brothers, Richard and John Kerry



  • my great-uncles – flew and died
    under Bomber Command during
    WW2 (Richard with 214 Squadron,
    while John never made it to an
    operational unit).
    Both were air gunners on
    Stirlings, and, as you stated in
    your editorial, it is important that
    we record the actions of these


men. Although I was close to my
grandmother, it was many years
after she passed away that I
learned of her brothers’ exploits.
(I still find it remarkable that I
know so much more today about
their respective roles and fates
than she could ever have known at
the time.)
Two images in the magazine
are particularly relevant to a
personal project: the photograph
of RAF Swinderby in January
1944 – from where, on the night of
January 26-27, 1944, John Kerry
took off in Stirling EH933 on an

ultimately fatal training exercise
with 1660 Heavy Conversion Unit.
Andy Hay’s artwork in the issue
portrays Stirling EH993, which
would have been very close in
appearance to the aircraft in
which John died when it crashed
just after midnight.
Bill Chorley’s Bomber Command
Losses (Volume 8) records the
fate of EH933 as having crashed
into a hill at Exton, Devon. My own
research over the past couple
of years has shown the aircraft
came down some 30 miles north
of this location, close to Exton

in Somerset – a conclusion with
which Bill Chorley was kind
enough to concur.
I am now working with people
local to the area to erect a
memorial to the eight airmen who
lost their lives that night and am
documenting as much as I am able
regarding the relatively short time
the Kerry brothers spent with the
RAF (and, indeed, the exploits of
a third brother, Joseph, who was
killed in Italy serving with the
Royal Artillery).
BOB BROWN
BURTON LATIMER

Viscount G-AMOO at Heathrow in January 1957. The airliner later joined British Eagle Airways,
where – because of its registration – it was colloquially known as the ‘fl ying cow’.

(Editor’s note – sharp-eyed readers may have noted the lack of advertised Viscounts or
Vanguards in the ‘Glory Days’ feature published in our last issue. As a bonus here’s a lovely
view of BEA’s Vanguard G-APEF, and Viscount G-APJU on the right).

Quirks of a Gnat
Roy Gamblin’s fascinating
story, It All Went Quiet (FlyPast
March), recalled all the quirks
of the Folland Gnat’s backup
control systems. On the first
Gnat course at RAF Valley in
1963, student Iain Christie-
Miller also demonstrated fine
judgement after a fire above 8/8
cloud in Gnat XP536 when he
landed at RAF Sealand, only to
hit a ground obstacle. We were
all shocked by his severe leg
injuries.
One of my ‘quiet’ moments
was as an RAF solo Gnat display
pilot on August 22, 1968, the
only occasion my family watched

me fly. I’d given them a sequence
board for my six-minute display.
A minute in, flying Gnat XP530,
while rolling inverted at 500
feet along the active runway,
“it all went quiet”. I had airfield
and runways aplenty, but 200
knots in excess of landing speed.
Instinct took over, and a maximum
rate 270 degree turn while
dragging off speed, dropping the
undercarriage and working like
a Trojan, got me to the threshold
of the main runway with a barrier
that was not needed. Back in the
crew room I made my report and
sat down to a well-earned coffee;
that’s when I recalled my family
and made my excuses to drive to

the rented farm above the airfield.
Their calmness impressed me,
then a brother-in-law said [about
the display]: “We’d thought it
would be longer”. That brought
me back to earth.
Later that year, on a stormy
November 14 night, I put my hand-
up to a double-ejection from Gnat
XP510 into the Irish Sea. I had
led ex-Hunter senior instructors
in a five-ship tail-chase above
a 5,000 foot cloud layer and
forced a fly-through before hitting
slipstream creating an oscillatory
spin. I ordered an ejection, lost
my dinghy, but landed beside the
‘pancaked’ Gnat in no immersion
suit, having swallowed fuel while

knowing gales had grounded
RAF Valley’s Search and Rescue
(SAR) helicopters.
Luck was on our side, we
were found by a volunteer SAR
Whirlwind crew piloted by Fg Off
Malcolm Ridyard. Subsequently,
the AOC gave me a 96-gun
broadside with a reproof, “never
let me see you again!”. But,
minutes later, I was recalled into
the presence, the AOC stood
with hand out to congratulate
me on a ‘good show’. It was a
lesson in man-management I
never forgot, a rare skill few
commanders possessed. 
KEITH PIGGOTT
ST LEONARDS-ON-SEA
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