The year was 1938, and it was getting late, very late indeed if Britain was to save itself from the coming storm which threatened to engulf Europe. Hitler’s armies had marched into the Rhineland (1936), taking it back from Allied control, they had merged with Austria (1938) Adolf Hitler’s native country, in what was known as ‘Anschluss’ (political union) and a significant part of the Czech Republic, known as the Sudentenland, which was mainly populated by ethnic Germans. Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain was thought to have submitted to Hitler’s demands too easily, but in reality, he bought precious time.

In an earlier post I commented on the desperate weakness of the RAF at the time of the Czech crisis. In 1938, Chamberlain realized the failure of the then Secretary of State for Air, Lord Swinton, to press quickly enough for expansion of the Royal Air Force, and replaced him with Sir Kingsley Wood. Immediate plans to establish new factories and extend existing ones to produce aircraft, aero-engines and other components were put into action. This was known as the ‘Shadow Scheme’ and the factories ‘shadow factories’. This was not to imply that the plants so created were covert, or that they were disguised (although they were all subject to appropriate camouflage schemes when war broke out), but that they were ‘shadowing’ an existing aeronautical company, and learning how to produce their products. Large scale Government grants and cheap loans saw to it that nine new plants were set up and many existing companies expanded; the intent was to treble aircraft production. It became obvious that plants producing motor vehicles were the easiest to convert to aircraft production; it also seemed that their management were best suited to run the new shadow factories. Industrial magnates such as Lord Austin (Herbert Austin, 1st Baron Austin, KBE) and Lord Nuffield who owned large car plants were encouraged to participate. Indeed, Lord Nuffield (William Richard Morris, 1st Viscount Nuffield GBE, CH) was given the new factory at Castle Bromwich, and told to produce 1,000 Spitfires a year! (Needless to say, there were huge problems with this).

Ford had a redundant assembly plant in Trafford Park,  Manchester, which had been shuttered since 1931, and welcomed the chance to participate in the scheme. As well, in 1941, they were handed a brand new £6.6 million plant close by; they were told to build Rolls-Royce Merlins - lots of them! At the time, this engine was in the vast majority of British fighters and bombers, including the two which had just won the Battle of Britain, the Vickers-Supermarine Spitfire and the Hawker Hurricane. Other aircraft powered by the Merlin included the De Havilland Mosquito, certain marks of the Handley-Page Halifax, Bristol Beaufighter, and Vickers Wellington, the Fairey Fulmar, Fairey Battle, and the superb Avro Lancaster bomber, built in their nearby Chadderton and Newton Heath facilities.

Ford re-drew the blue-prints for the Merlin, making it more suitable for mass production, and by 1944, over 400 engines a week were flowing out of the plants. Sir Stanley Hooker, later to be Chief Engineer of Rolls-Royce, characterised them as ‘damn good engines’. The final total, from June, 1941 to March, 1946, came to 30,428. This was only 2,000 less than the main Rolls-Royce plant at Nightingale Road, Derby (although there were several other plants producing Merlins in the U.K.). In the U.S.A., the Packard Motor Car Company built 55,523 Merlins under licence, and these were fitted to Lancaster III bombers, Canadian and Australian built Mosquito aircraft, and most famously, the North American P-51 Mustang, transforming this fighter.

Here we see the very last Ford-built Merlin produced at Trafford Park, Manchester and according to the brass plaque affixed to it, rebuilt by company apprentices. It is a Mark 24, capable of producing 1,610 hp at 3,000 rpm, and is on display in the Museum of Science and Industry, Manchester. The Merlin 24 was used in Avro Lancaster I and VII, Avro York I and Handley Page Halifax II aircraft.

The shadow factory system worked so well, that it was also applied to tanks, small arms, shells, and even petrol cans! The 10,000 plus men and over 7,000 women who worked at Fords in Manchester producing the war-winning Merlin engine could be proud of their achievement. It is, however, a strange fact that almost every aircraft enthusiast has heard of a Packard-built Merlin, yet the ‘Ford Merlin’, with a total production close 60% of Packard’s, is almost unheard of!

By the way, the blue-painted fixture the Merlin is mounted in is an original assembly jig, allowing the engine to be rotated during the building process.

York Minster, or to give it its full title ‘The Cathedral and Metropolitan Church of St. Peter’, is not just a hugely significant place of worship, but a gigantic repository of architectural and artistic splendour. There has been a church on this site since around 627 AD, when a wooden structure was erected over some part of the Roman city of Eboracum (the Roman ruins may be seen in the Minster’s undercroft). The first stone church was built in 637 AD, but subsequently destroyed by Danish invaders in the 11th century.

The wave of religious fervour which swept across Europe in the 13th century gave rise to great Gothic cathedrals which slowly rose - sometimes taking hundreds of years to complete – in almost every land. Masons, wood-carvers, and other artists, wandered from country to country seeking employment, constructing a chapel here, painting a fresco there. The present York Minster, the seat of the Archbishop of York, was begun in 1230. It was a gigantic undertaking, on a such a scale that it seemed to dominate the Vale of York for miles around. Indeed, it is often said to be the most significant Gothic building north of the Alps, containing as it does, in the Great East Window, the largest expanse of Mediaeval stained glass in existence. Generations of artisans, skilled carvers and masons worked on the site, which took so long to complete that successive styles are built on the traces of a Norman foundation. They include a Decorated Gothic nave, a Perpendicular Gothic choir, and Early English north and south transepts. The work was finally ‘completed’ (if any cathedral can be said to be complete) in 1472.

This magnificent church is mainly constructed of Magnesian Limestone, a creamy-white doleritic sedimentary rock, quarried in nearby Tadcaster. As with all limestones, this is subject to weathering and erosion, particularly by acid rain. The rise of industrial activity over the last two and a half centuries, and the exhaust from internal combustion engines, has caused a lot of damage to parts of the structure. The photograph you can see here is of a modern-day Masons’ Lodge and Stoneyard adjacent to the Minster. This is an approximation of a Mediaeval masons’ lodge similar to those which would have been erected at every work site around Europe. Workmen would come to this place to be hired, carrying their own tools, and identify themselves to the Master Mason on site. To prove their level of skill, they would usually pass some secret sign, known only amongst those of their craft; that done, they would be accepted, and hired, if work was available. As an aside, it was on this foundation, and other ideas, that the modern organisation of Freemasonry would be established.

As you can see, by the stock of stone blocks, and the semi-finished work, this is a very active site. There is a scheme currently running to completely conserve the stonework of the 14/15th century East Front for future generations. This is part of a comprehensive plan, devised by Alan Baxter Associates, which will also involve reconstruction and repair of many areas of stained glass and a formal scheme of school visits and adult education using these works as teaching tools. Craft apprenticeships in stonemasonry and glass conservation are also part of this plan. The whole effort is called ‘York Minster Revealed’, and is being funded by a £10 million grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund.

I doubt that either St. Bosa or St. William of York – who are both buried in the Minster – could have envisaged the modern world that their church exists in today, but the magnificence which is York Minster will continue to dazzle and amaze all who come to look on its beauty.

The De Havilland DH.98 Mosquito was almost ‘all things to all men’ in flying terms. From the dark days of 1940, when it was almost certain that the unarmed, mostly wooden, private venture bomber by De Havilland would never take flight, to the relentless hunting of the Luftwaffe nightfighter force over their own airfields in 1944/5 by Mosquito NF.XII and NF.XIIIs, the ‘Wooden Wonder’ emerged triumphant. Later, high-altitude bomber versions such as the B.XVI spawned even longer photo-reconnaisance Mosquitos such as the PR.34. Inevitably, as the fighting waned and was finally brought to abrupt halt by the atomic strikes on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, orders for the most developed versions of this ‘first of the multi-rôle aircraft’ were either severely cut-back or cancelled. The B.35 bomber, powered by a Rolls-Royce Merlin 113/114 combination (each of 1,690 hp) was capable of 422 mph at altitude, but its first flight did not occur until 12th March, 1945, so none saw squadron service during WW2. The B.35 was issued to No. 109 and No. 139 Squadrons at RAF Hemswell, post-war, but the Hatfield-built aircraft you can see here, TA719, after being completed in June, 1945 went straight into store at 22 MU. TA719 never saw service in the rôle for which it was designed, languishing in various storage facilities until 1953!

In 1953, TA719 was flown to Sywell Aerodrome, where she was converted to a target tug (TT.35) by Brooklands Aviation. She was delivered to No. 3 Civilian Anti Aircraft Co-operation Unit, and then transferred to No. 4 CAACU at Exeter Airfield in June 1954. The next nine years were busy, as TA719 provided high-speed radar targets for various stations, and towed target banners around the sky. Retired in March, 1953, she was assigned the civilian registration, G-ASKC and flown to Bovingdon, where much of the shooting for the film ‘633 Squadron’ was taking place. Whilst there, TA719 was painted with the fictitious codes and serial, ‘HT – G’ and ‘HJ898’. Acquired by the ‘Skyfame Collection’ at Staverton Airport, Gloucestershire, post-filming, TA719 was damaged during a landing accident. Following repairs, she had her second and last turn in front of the cameras, during the filming of ‘Mosquito Squadron’ in 1968,  during which she was used to simulate a crash landing, and suffered in the ensuing fire. To add insult to injury, various components (including the engine cowlings) were stolen before TA719 was returned to ‘Skyfame’. When the collection closed in 1978, the Imperial War Museum acquired the remains. 

What follows was nothing short of a labour of love. The aircraft was minus engines, engine bearers, propellers, spinners, cowlings and needed a new port wing! A small team, lead by Ron Smoulton, built a new wing from scratch, fabricated a framework to carry fiberglass cowlings, propellers and spinners and painted the aircraft in a 1944 Bomber Command scheme for exhibition at Duxford. In 2005, a team of eight, lead by IWM staff members Dennis Smits and Dave Roberts completely overhauled TA719, and repaired the bomb bay doors and cockpit area, before returning the aircraft to her target tug scheme of a stylish silver topside and high-visibility yellow and black striped undersides. The year-long rebuild – essentially the whole aircraft – was completed in early 2005, and TA719 was exhibited for a time in No. 4 Hangar at Duxford, before being hoisted into her permanent position in the roof of ‘AirSpace’, IWM’s tribute to British and Commonwealth aviation history.

 John Lilley worked as part of the team on TA719, and it was this that inspired him, not just to become an owner of warbirds, but to now form the group ‘Peoples Mosquito’, an organization dedicated to seeing a Mosquito flying in British skies once again. I would urge all of you to explore their website, and consider ways in which you might help this grand vision to succeed!

http://www.peoplesmosquito.org.uk/ 

http://twitter.com/#!/peoplesmosquito 

http://peoplesmosquito.wordpress.com/contact-us/ 

http://www.facebook.com/groups/1819037052 

http://travelforaircraft.wordpress.com/2012/01/16/mossie-write/

‘The Tin Lizzie’, ‘The Flivver’, ‘The Model T’, these names and more were applied to the most successful car in the world, the Model T Ford. Before the advent of the Model T in 1908, all cars were bespoke. Sometimes a prospective owner (and you had to be rich) would wander into a car showroom – always in the centre of large cities – and find a second-hand vehicle taken in as a ‘trade’, but usually a ‘socially acceptable’ salesman would take the new client out in a ‘demonstrator’. The client would then choose a body style, colour, type of upholstery, and any accessories (such as acetylene lamps). Sometimes, just a bare, rolling chassis was delivered to the client’s ‘coachbuilder’ and a custom, one-off body fitted.

With the Model T, all this changed. Henry Ford aided by Joseph Galamb, Eugene Farkas and Childe Harold Wills had designed the very first car intended for mass production. Ford’s previous attempts to produce a popular car had not succeeded, but the Model T was an instant hit. It’s 2,900 cc engine produced a maximum of 20 hp, which was transferred to the rear wheels through a two-speed planetary gearbox. This was enough to carry a family of four (in certain body styles), and the low gearing ensured that the steepest of hills could be tackled. It is true that Ford DID say that ‘Any customer can have a car painted any color they want, so long as it is black’, but this only arose because black was the fastest-drying paint, and the assembly line system (instituted by Ford) and using standardized parts,  demanded speed above all. Roadsters, sedans, touring cars - the variations seemed to be endless, and the company set up plants all over the world.

The English assembly plant was in Manchester, which had benefitted from the establishment in 1894 of the superb Manchester Ship Canal and its docks, linking Manchester to the Irish Sea. The Trafford Park area of the city, hard by the Canal, was ideal for the embryonic Ford Company operation, which was selling about 400 cars a year by 1911 from its London showroom. A factory was set up in a former carriage works (the first outside the USA) and parts sent from the Ford plant in Dearborn, Michigan began to be assembled, along with locally made bodies. The car you see here, on display at the Museum of Science & Industry, Manchester, was built in Manchester in 1912 and would have sold for the (then) price of £175, about half the price of an Austin, its direct competitor. In case you are wondering why the car is green and not black, before the assembly line system was instituted other colours WERE used! An incredible worldwide total of over 15,000,000 Model T’s had been built when production finally ended in 1927.

The Trafford plant was closed in October, 1931, when the new, even larger Ford plant at Dagenham was opened. Amazingly, the old plant was to play a significant rôle in Britain’s aviation industry during World War Two. It had been lying ‘fallow’ for a number of years, when it was taken over as a Government-sponsored ‘shadow factory’; the Government encouraged Ford to produce the superb Rolls-Royce Merlin engine under licence. By 1944, they were flowing out of the factory gates at the astonishing rate of 400 a week.

Henry Ford can be said to have created the modern automotive industry, and released millions of drivers onto the roads of the world. The instrument of this revolution, and the symbol of his success, was undoubtedly the Model T.

It didn’t take long for the British infantry units equipped with the ‘2 pounder’ (40mm) anti-tank gun in the Western Desert to realize that they were being out-gunned and out-classed by the opposing German and Italian units. Introduced in the 1930s, when the standard tank gun was in the same class (the United States used a 37mm gun), the 40mm gun was fast becoming obsolete. The answer was a new, bigger gun, the Ordnance QF 6-pounder. This was a much better anti-tank weapon of 57mm bore, and was able to defeat most Axis armour, if the correct tactics were employed. This gun was rushed to North Africa, just in time to make a splendid showing in the highly significant Battle of El Alamein (23^rd Oct  – 11^th November, 1942) which ended in a resounding victory for the British and Commonwealth forces.

Use of the QF 6-pounder spread; the United States Army used the weapon as the 57mm Gun M1, and built over 15,000 (others were built in South Africa and Canada). The Royal Navy found a use for a version on their Fairmile ‘D’ Motor Torpedo Boats and the SGBs, or Steam Gun Boats, of the RN’s Coastal Forces. The RAF were not far behind; the Hawker Hurricane IId had given valiant service in the anti-armour role (2 x Vickers Type ‘S’ 40mm guns) during the North African campaign, but by 1943 was a bit long in the tooth. Initially, it was thought that the De Havilland DH.98 Mosquito, carrying a special version of the 6-pounder complete with an automatic ammunition feed designed by the Molins Company of Peterborough (a firm more used to making cigarette-making machinery) would take on these duties.

In 1943, a standard Mosquito FB.VI, the most-produced fighter-bomber version, was removed from the production line and heavily modified. The space which would have been occupied by the 4 x 20mm British Hispano cannon was now filled with the Molins-modified 6-pounder and its auto feed system containing 25 rounds of HE ammunition with an armour-piercing nose; the big gun was offset from the centreline of the Mosquito by 4º, to accommodate the stock of large shells. The 4 x .303 Browning machineguns above the cannon bay were left in place. The resultant variant of the Mosquito was officially called the FB.XVIII, and made its first flight on the 8th June, 1943. However, it was usually refered to as the ‘Tsetse’, after the vicious biting fly of Africa which carries the parasite for trypanosomiasis, or ‘sleeping sickness’. Singularly appropriate, I think! The prototype aircraft was given the RAF serial ‘HJ732/G’, the ‘G’ signifying that this was an aircraft which was so secret that it was to be kept under armed guard at all times! The ‘Tsetse’ was always a ‘rara avis’ with a grand total of only 18 being built. This was basically due to a dispute between the ‘big gun’ faction in the RAF and the ‘rocket projectile’ enthusiasts. Ultimately, the RP fans won the argument, and the FB.XVIII remained a footnote to the Mosquito story.

Operated in small numbers by  No. 248, 254 Squadrons, and a Special Detachment of No. 618 Squadron, as part of the Portreath and Banff Strike Wings, the FB.XVIIIs were sent out in twos and threes as part of mixed strike packages, hunting surface vessels and German naval units amongst the Norwegian fjords, and across the wide waters of the Bay of Biscay. Diving from 5,000ft at a 30º angle, the Tsetse would unleash bursts of 3 or 4 shells at around one a second. The 57mm shell, moving at 2,950ft/sec, would do fearsome damage to any vessel. ‘Up-gunned’ U-Boats were fighting it out on the surface against Coastal Command aircraft at this stage, but stood little chance. The Mossie was carrying 900lbs of extra armour-plate (cabin floor, engines, gun bays, fuel tanks, etc) as well as strengthened flaps and fuselage doors, and sank many vessels. On 25th March, 1944, Flying Officer D. Turner and Flying Officer D. Curtis, along with another Tsetse, sank U-976, a Type VIIC U-Boat, near St. Nazaire, France. In June, U-821 was attacked so hard that her crew abandoned her. It wasn’t all hard work though; on 10th March during a shipping attack by FB.VI and FB.XVIII aircraft, around eight Ju 88 fighters tried to interfere. The FB.VIs shot down two, and one then crossed in front of a Tsetse flown by Squadron Leader Tony Phillips. The pilot of the Ju 88 had what can only be described as a real ‘Oh dear!’ moment when he was hit by a volley of no less than FOUR 57mm shells (one of which neatly removed an engine from the wing). The remains of the Ju 88 – and there cannot have been a lot – fell into the sea!

A full-page advertisement in a wartime issue of ’Flight’, showed a smiling RAF NCO holding a 6-pounder shell in front of an FB.XVIII, over the legend ‘The Flying Field Gun’, but it was not to be. Even a laudatory statement from Air Marshall Sir Sholto Douglas, Commander-in-Chief of RAF Coastal Command, (later Marshal of the Royal Air Force, William Sholto Douglas, 1st Baron Douglas of Kirtleside, GCB, MC, DFC) in the De Havilland company newsletter for May/July 1944, called the ‘Mosquito News Report’, was of no use. The Air Staff turned his request for more FB.XVIIIs down; the ‘rocket establishment’ had won. At the end of the war, the rarest Mosquito type to see squadron service was quietly scrapped. A shame, for it was a potent weapon. The 6-pounder, seen here in front of a Mosquito B.35 at the Royal Air Force Museum, Cosford, is all that remains of a glorious experiment.

If you wish to see a Mosquito back in UK skies, then support the ‘Peoples Mosquito’ organization, a group who are intent on rebuilding a Mosquito to flight status! Links to their website and other links are given below. I would urge you all to join in the campaign!

http://www.peoplesmosquito.org.uk/

http://twitter.com/#!/peoplesmosquito

http://peoplesmosquito.wordpress.com/contact-us/

http://www.facebook.com/groups/181903705240642/

http://travelforaircraft.wordpress.com/2012/01/16/mossie-write/

The definitive development of the earlier P.1B research aircraft, which first flew on 4th April 1957, the F.6 combined a lot of detail improvements from the previously generations of Lightnings. XP697, the prototype F.6, made its maiden flight on the 17th April, 1964; compared to its predecessor the F.3, there was a change of wing camber and area, as well as increased fuel capacity (Lightnings, whatever the Mark, where always looking for more fuel capacity!) Overwing fuel tanks carrying 26o gallons each could now be fitted – the 60º swept wing had no space underneath, as that was taken up by the undercarriage wheel wells; a fixed, removeable, refuelling probe was also fitted to the underside of the port wing. The two R/R Avons of 12,690 lb thrust, were stacked vertically but staggered, giving the minimum cross-sectional area and therefore drag, and pushed the Lightning to 1,500 mph – or Mach 2.27 - at altitude. The climb rate was a staggering 50,000 ft per minute! The F.6 served with Nos. 5, 11, 23, 29, 111 Squadrons of the Royal Air Force and with No. 226 OCU (Operational Conversion Unit).

XR771 was delivered to No. 5 Squadron ( Motto, ‘Frangas non electas’ – ‘Thou mayest break but not bend me’) at RAF Binbrook in Lincolnshire in December, 1965, and carried the Squadron letters ‘AN’. It had a long and arduous Service life, finally finishing up with No. 11 Squadron (Motto, ‘Ociones acrioresque aquilis’ – Swifter and keener than eagles’), coded ‘BF’ in 1988. During this period, as well as sending a detachment to their annual Armament Practice Camp at RAF Akrotiri on the Mediterranean island of Cyprus and making other overseas trips, the Lightnings were constantly being scrambled over the North Sea to investigate Russian aircraft (usually Tupolev Tu-95 Bear turboprop bombers) which were probing UK airspace. The F.6 carried two 30mm Aden cannon in the front of their 600 gallon under-fuselage fuel tank (yet another way of getting more fuel onto the airframe), as well as either two De Havilland Firestreak or Hawker Siddeley Redtop first generation infra-red air-to-air missiles. The McDonnell Douglas F4 Phantom began to partially replace the F.6 in 1974, and the end came when the last Lightnings of the Binbrook Wing were replaced by the Panavia Tornado F.3 in 1988.

Amazingly, the Lightning nearly became the LAST manned fighter of the RAF! In one of the most appalling decisions ever taken with reference to the Armed Forces of the UK, the Defence Review of 1957 decreed that, in future air defence was to be undertaken by land-based missiles ONLY. This terrible mistake – forced through by the Minister of Defence, Ducan Sandys, a missile enthusiast – ruined several aircraft manufacturers and force wholesale closures. Despite being reversed in later years, t can be said that Britain’s aircraft industry never really recovered from this stupidity.

Looking at this Lightning, lovingly restored by the Midland Air Museum, Coventry, I can remember my joy at watching the almost unbelievable zoom climb with which RAF Lightings finished a display sequence at many airshows, and seeing the crews of other NATO fighters look on in envy. This aircraft was capable of ‘supercruise’ – supersonic cruise without using reheat; as well, in 1984 a USAF U-2 was intercepted by an RAF Lightning – at 88,000 feet, where the pilot had thought himself totally invulnerable! 

Fortunately, one aircraft (a twin-seat T.5) is under restoration to fly in the USA, and others have flown in South Africa. Long live Lightnings!

There was I time when I use to look with a little disfavour at Labradoodles. The thought of deliberately crossing two very diverse pedigree dogs deliberately (as opposed to an ‘over the garden fence’ meeting) seemed rather odd. I quite understand that some people cannot tolerate – for allergy reasons – being around the average dog. I appreciated that some dogs seemed to have a fur which could be termed ‘hypoallergenic’ (the Portuguese Water Dog and the French Poodle, for example), what I had not understood was that being allergic to dog hair was more than inconvenient if you were visually impaired.

Blind people who are not otherwise physically handicapped, and can used a guide dog (UK – ‘seeing eye dog’ in the USA) but are allergic have a HUGE problem. It was because of this that an Australian breeder, Wally Conron of Guide Dogs of Victoria (Australia) in 1988, selectively bred a Labrador Retriever with a Standard Poodle, in attempt to get a dog that had the gentle trainability of the Lab with the quick intelligence of the Poodle – and the Poodle’s hypoallergenic characteristics. He had been approached by a blind lady from Hawaii whose husband was strongly allergic to pet dander. Only ONE puppy, out of the ensuing litter did not cause an allergic reaction (hair samples from all of the pups were sent to Hawaii) and this puppy was trained to become the first Labradoodle ’seeing eye dog’. Others now fill rôles as Therapy or Assistance Dogs.

It is not true to say that all puppies in a litter have hypoallergenic characteristics, or even the same type of coat; they are, after all, mixed breeds of two radically different types of dogs. Other breeds have, from time to time, been added to the mix, such as the Portuguese Water Dog (hypoallergenic) and the Curly-coated Retriever, but the ‘standard’ seems to be Labrador Retriever x Standard Poodle. Needless to say, these dogs became fashionable amongst the general population and are now found all over the world as pets. There many different colours, depending on the colour of the Poodle parent, and three ‘standards’ of coat – ‘wool’, with tight curls like a Poodle, ‘fleece’, with looser, wavy curls, and ‘hair’, which can be straight or have a slight wave, like a Lab. There are some breeders who insist on breeding Labradoodles with Labradoodles and try to establish a new ‘breed standard’, and those that suggest that every new litter should come from a Labrador x Standard Poodle cross, thereby reducing the possible dangers of such defects as hip dysplasia.

Here we see a local Labradoodle! He is Maury, a two-year old Labradoodle with what is known as an apricot-coloured ‘fleece’ coat. Maury is carrying a short stick (he likes picking them up on his walks) and is proudly wearing his new Christmas neckerchief, which his groomer gave him as a present! 

Labradoodles are performing a useful service for those who have both visual and allergy problems, and delighting their owners everywhere!

This aircraft has it all – speed, power, grace. It was built against all the odds, when the Air Ministry just couldn’t understand the concept of a bomber without defensive armament or gun turrets. It was only due to the staunch support of the Air Member for Research and Development, Air Chief Marshal Sir Wilfred Rhodes Freeman, Baronet, KGCB, DSO, MC, FRAeS, RAF, that the De Havilland DH.98 Mosquito was built at all; indeed, its detractors often refered to it as ‘Freeman’s Folly’. The prototype Mosquito, W4050, was built in secrecy close to Salisbury Hall, Hertfordshire, and took off from a small field nearby on 25th November, 1940, to start its flight test programme. It was only because of its mainly balsa/plywood ‘sandwich’ construction, with wood being used wherever possible so using relatively little strategic metal resources, that it got the green light under Specification B.1/40. W4050 soon amazed a gathering of senior officers and others by exhibiting near-400 mph speed, extreme manoeuverability for a twin, and performing upward rolls with one of its two Rolls-Royce Merlin engines feathered! It became the fastest warplane in Europe – of ANY type – a title it held for nearly 18 months; indeed, it stayed the fastest bomber in RAF service until the 1950s, and the advent of the twin-jet English Electric Canberra.

Everyone now wanted the Mosquito!  RAF Coastal Command for anti-shipping strikes, Fighter Command as a superb night-fighter and day fighter-bomber, Bomber Command as a hard-hitting low-level attack aircraft and later a night bomber with the capacity to carry a 4,000 lb bomb to Berlin and return (and do it TWICE in one night!). Photo-reconnaisance units prized it for its enormous range – able to penetrate as far as Prague, Czechoslovakia in later versions - and its ability to outmanoeuver opposing German fighters. Even the USAAF wanted the Mossie, going so far as to suggest a one for one swap involving P-51 aircraft!

Production was split amongst many UK subcontractors in the former wood-working and furniture trades, and rapidly spread to Canada and Australia. Even after the end of the war, Mosquito night-fighters, such as the NF.30, were used to defend Great Britain until the new jet aircraft could be developed (No. 616 Squadron, RAuxAF, at RAF Finningley, near Doncaster, was an example of this). The final versions produced were target tugs, which provided fast towing  and target facilities for anti-aircraft units around the country; some of these were converted from B.35 bomber versions, (as seen in the above photograph) which was taken in the Royal Air Force Museum’s  ’Milestones of Flight’ Gallery at Hendon. Inadvertently, the Mossie must have given radar operators a harder time than they might have expected, because its wooden structure conveys certain ‘stealth’ characteristics. 

Due to the tragic loss of the British Aerospace-owned  ’RR299′ at Barton, in 1996, there is no longer a flyable Mosquito in European skies (up to three restored aircraft may fly in the next year or so, one in New Zealand, one in the USA and one in Canada). However, there is big news this month; a popular movement has been formed with the avowed intent of restoring a Mosquito to flight status, and then presenting it to the nation – in the shape of the RAF’s Battle of Britain Memorial Flight – so that future generations can marvel at the sight and sound of a warplane which did so much to influence the outcome of WW2. I would urge you all to support the efforts of the ‘Peoples Mosquito’ organization (links at the bottom of this page), as being not only the right thing to do, but as a way of honouring those who gave their lives in the service of their country. Bomber Command, especially, has been under-represented until recently in the way of public memorials, and this would be a wonderful way of righting that omission. As I was saying to a friend, ‘It’s Mosquito time’!

http://twitter.com/#!/peoplesmosquito

http://www.peoplesmosquito.org.uk/

http://www.wix.com/varcs4/peoplesmosquito

At this time of year, the shops and businesses in our small New England town put up decorations. These can range from a few trimmings in a window to elaborate Christmas trees to festive wreaths placed on buildings. Our town is multi-cultural and multi-faith, so a menorah has, in recent years, joined other religious symbols outside our town hall.

Here we see a lovely wreath of pine cones and small branches, decorated with baubles and a red bow, typical of those used to decorate local shops, in this case ‘Aerus’ the successor company to ‘Electrolux’. Wreaths have been used since ancient times by many cultures and religions as symbols. The Romans used them as symbols of victories, and carved wreaths were seen on many public buildings. Druids, the priests of the Celtic tribes, also used evergreens and mistletoe as part of their religious life.

The area I am from, Derbyshire, has echoes of many cultures. As well as earlier Roman forts and Celtic tribal settlements, the area became part of the ‘Danelaw’, that part of eastern and northern England ruled by Danish overlords from their capital of Jorvik (now York) in the 9th and 10th centuries. Indeed, the next village to mine is called Denby, which means ‘village of the Danes’. Consequently, some local folk rituals are unique, from the ’well dressing’ of springs with patterns of flower petals, to the use of a large holly branch as a ‘Christmas tree’ (my own family did this for many years). After all, the use of the pine as a decorated tree at Christmas only came into England with Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, the German husband of Queen Victoria.

Whatever your faith, may this season be full of peace and joy for you and yours, and the coming year a truly memorable one.

It broods over the ‘Milestones of Flight’ collection in the RAF Museum, London, as if poised to strike. The Messerschmitt Me 262 is one of those aircraft which seems to exude an air of menace, even when its fangs are drawn! The jet engine was developed in both Britain and Germany, but although Frank Whittle (later, Air Commodore Sir Frank Whittle, OM, KBE, CB, FRS, Hon FRAeS, RAF) had produced experimental units in advance of the German engineer Hans von Ohain, due to funding difficulties and official indifference Germany always had the lead. For example, the experimental Heinkel He 178 flew on 27th August, 1939 well before the Whittle-powered Gloster E.28/39 did (15th May, 1941). Similarly, Britain’s first operational jet fighter prototype, the Gloster Meteor flew on 12th June, 1943, whereas the Me 262 – ordered by the Reichluftfartministerium in 1938 –  had flown under the power of 2 x Junkers Jumo 004 turbojets of 1,850 lb st on 18th July, 1942. Before its jet engines were ready, a prototype had flown using a single Junkers Jumo 210G piston engine of 700 hp on 4th April, 1941. 

German authorities were not convinced of the need for large-scale production of the Me 262 – they thought that the war would be won before it was ready for combat – so it wasn’t until May, 1944 before the first production version, the Me 262A-1a Schwalbe (Swallow) was delivered. The ‘Programme 223′ plan to deliver around 60 aircraft a month from May, 1944 was foiled initially by heavy Allied bombing attacks on the Messerschmitt factory at Regensberg, and the following dispersal of production and development facilities, and the personal intervention of Adolf Hitler. It was Hitler who, having seen the Me 262 fly, declared that it was to be his new ‘Schnellbomber’, and demanded that all aircraft be modified to carry bombs! This ‘Sturmvogel‘ (Stormbird) Me 262A-2a variant of the aircraft was to be used to repel the Allied invasion of Europe. Undoubtedly, this demand slowed the production of the ground-breaking fighter, but there were also difficulties with the powerplants. The Jumo 004 used chromium plating, rather than chromium steel alloys, for certain components and along with a critical lack of other temperature and wear-resistant metals such as cobalt, nickel, molybdenum and tungsten, gave the early Jumo engines a ‘time between overhaul’ of only 25 hours!

A test and training unit, Erpobungskommando 262, was formed in 1944, which lead to the formation of III/Erg. Jagdgeschwader 2 in November, 1944. Other Me 262 units included Jagdeschwader 7 and the elite Jagdverband 44, which, lead by the then-disgraced General Adolf Galland, carved a swathe through American bomber formations in the last few weeks of the war. Basically, only 15% of the 1,433 Me 262 aircraft built made it to front-line units, and despite their incredible speed (540 mph at 20,000ft) and armament (4 x 30mm MK 108 cannon, and 24 x 5cm R4M air-to-air missiles) the Me 262 was a classic case of ‘too little, too late’. Victories over the Me 262 were achieved by late-model Spitfires, and P-51 aircraft. However, perhaps the most deadly foe of the ‘Schwalbe’ was the Hawker Tempest V, which Luftwaffe pilots feared, especially at low-level for its high speed, and fire-power.

Here we see the RAF Museum’s superbly restored Me 262A-2a, Wk/Num 112372, originally assigned to JG 7 ‘Nowotny’ in March, 1945. This aircraft was flown to Fassberg, Germany, on 8th May, 1945, from Zatec, Czechoslovakia, as Russian forces closed in. It was surrendered to RAF personnel, and members of No. 616 Sqn., the RAF’s first Gloster Meteor unit, made several test flights in it. Flown to the U.K., it was taken on charge by the Royal Aircraft Establishment’s Aerodynamics Flight at Farnborough, where a flight test programme was carried out. Following this, the aircraft was put on display at various RAF Stations, including Cosford, Gaydon and Finningley. Eventually refurbished as ‘Yellow 4′ at RAF Cosford, it was placed in the ‘Milestones of Flight’ Gallery in the RAF Museum, London in 2003. Its menacing appearance and impression of sheer speed are shown in this front view of ‘Yellow 4′.

If you think that the Allies had a lucky escape when circumstances delayed the service entry of the Me 262, consider this. If the Luftwaffe had ordered the Heinkel He 280 fighter prototype in 1941, they would have had a 500 mph twin-jet fighter capable of flying rings around the Fw 190 (it did so in a fly-off), and in squadron service by 1942! Fortunately, early engine problems with the Heinkel HeS 8 engines, and a perverse political decision by Ernst Udet, ensured that the USAAF 8th Air Force B-17 and B-24 bomber streams were not slaughtered in 1943, and the course of the war changed.