It was only when the dressing was removed that I realised I had a really deep hole in my leg that had been filled with some special gunk. When I got up to walk it hurt like hell and no matter how I tried I could not help limping. Laboratory tests proved the growth to be benign—an enormous relief.
I had not been out of hospital long when Beryl and I attended a ‘Roman Night’ at the New Sarum Officers’ Mess. It was one of those lovely parties that went through the night, ending with a superb pre-dawn breakfast in the dining hall. At the end of this Christine Nicholls, just out of hospital with leg in plaster, Rob Gaunt with leg in plaster and myself heavily bandaged were all lifted onto the table to give the gathering reasons for sporting apparel ‘unbecoming to our Roman dress’. Rob Gaunt had started speaking when fire hoses were turned on us. The whole place was awash with everyone slipping around before the culprits were overpowered and the hoses switched off. With Roman togas and flimsy dresses soaked through, everyone ended up in the swimming pool where we were treated to some unusual diving exhibitions.
Dawn was breaking when we heard the pounding of hooves and saw Phil Schooling galloping through the trees with cloak flying as in a Roman movie. When we all repaired to the bar, Phil brought his horse to the counter. The floor was slippery from wet bodies which caused the horse to slip, panic, fall and vacate its bowels before being led to a safer environment. I ended up at the doctor’s rooms to have the hole in my wound mended because its over-stressed stitches had failed. But, all in all it had been a great party.
Aircraft accidents 1970-1971
MY ROUTINES IN JPS WERE interrupted from time to time to retain currency on helicopters and conducted Final Handling Tests on pilots trained by Hugh Slatter and Harold Griffiths. Norman Walsh handed over No 7 Squadron to Squadron Leader Gordon Nettleton in early 1970 but his command terminated in a freak accident on 1 July 1970.
Gordon had been ‘under the hood’ on instrument flying practice with Flight Lieutenant Mike Hill as his safety pilot. At the end of the flight a radar talk-down onto the grass runway 14 was completed and, so far as could be judged, control must have already passed from Gordon to Mike. At this point observers saw the helicopter pitch up and roll sharply to starboard. The roll and pitch continued in a tight descending path that ended when the aircraft impacted belly down on the main road verge against the airfield security fence. Both these fine men died instantly.
Assisted by French experts from Sud Aviation, the Board of Inquiry realised that mechanical failure of the cyclic controls system would have resulted in a roll to port so only pilot action could have been responsible for the starboard roll. This being so, there could only be one conclusion; Mike was suffering from ‘flicker vertigo’ before he took control.
Flicker vertigo in helicopters is an unusual condition caused by rotor blade shadows that are seldom noticed. Put very simply, flicker vertigo is to do with synchronised frequencies in which the frequency of shadows perceived by the eyes, consciously or subconsciously, divide perfectly into the brain’s functioning frequency to produce a whole number. This upsets normal brain function causing mesmerism and haphazard muscular movements as in an epileptic fit. Such a condition is known on roadways where the shadows of trees interrupts direct sunlight during early morning and late afternoon. Motorists can go off a roadway when impaired by flicker vertigo.
On 28 October 1970, Flying Officer Al Bruce was on a pairs formation exercise when his Hunter started venting fuel. He turned for Bulawayo Airport but his engine flamed-out short of the runway leaving him with no option but to eject. Al suffered bad bruising of the spine but otherwise he was fine. For the Air Force, however, the loss of our first Hunter FB9 was a major blow, reducing the fleet to eleven aircraft.
Keith Corrans and I were at Voortrekkerhoogte (previously Roberts Heights) in Pretoria for most of 1971, undergoing the South African Air Force Staff Course. In the latter stages of this eleven-month course we were shaken by news of the deaths of Flight Lieutenant Alex Roughead and Air Lieutenant Robertson.
On 16 November 1971, a formation stream take-off of Canberras from Salisbury turned out right to climb through cloud. Alex’s aircraft did not appear when the other Canberras broke out above cloud. Following a short air search, wreckage of his aircraft was located and an inspection of it showed that Frame 21, which connects the airframe to the main spar of the mainplanes, had failed, resulting in loss of the starboard wing.
Prior to this terrible accident, hairline cracks in Frame 21 of all B2 Canberras had been a cause for major concern and they were monitored regularly. The RAF was aware of this problem caused by work hardening of the aluminium castings. This had been overcome by improved material and design for later Canberras, but Rhodesia was stuck with the MkB2 model.
Almost daily, Master Technician Brian Goodwin was seen on the flight-line with black material wrapped around his head to protect him from the ultrasonic emissions of his non-destructive, crack-detecting equipment that tested Frame 21 sections. Whenever a crack was located there was need to carefully ‘blend out’ the offending area to stress-relieve affected sections. Why Alex’s aircraft suffered catastrophic failure of the Frame 21, having only just been declared free of cracks, was the subject of much conjecture but it was eventually concluded that Alex must have inadvertently exceeded the airframe’s ‘G’ limit in turbulence.
Canberra pilots and navigators were already recording time spent in every condition of every flight and a ‘fatigue factor’ was being applied to each of these conditions. I do not recall the fatigue-factoring figures but they ranged upward from something like 1.5 for normal cruise at 250 knots in turbulent conditions to 30 for the speed range 330-350 knots. After applying the appropriate factor to the time spent in each flight condition, the ‘factored flight time’ was deducted from the number of airframe hours remaining. This substantially reduced our Canberras’ life spans even though Frame 21 cracks were occurring at progressively reducing frequency, thanks to successful stress-relieving procedures.
Exercise Blackjack
BY NOW THE AIR FORCE Volunteer force had increased considerably with VR Squadrons having been established at Bulawayo, Gwelo, Salisbury and Umtali-more were to follow. All VR personnel had undergone considerable field training in operations management, air movements, security and so on. Air HQ was pleased with progress and the fact that so many regular pilots and airmen had been freed to concentrate on their primary roles. But there was need to test the whole service in a countrywide exercise codenamed ‘Blackjack’.
A long-range navigation exercise went badly wrong for the crew of a Canberra flying in the northwest sector. Due to weather and unreliable NDB aids, the crew became uncertain of their position and were forced to eject when their fuel ran out. A very uncomfortable night was spent on the ground where the widely separated pilot and navigator experienced the terror caused by lions roaring within yards of their locations.