After ninety hours of flying, half of which was solo, Gordon’s logbook gained another big stamp. This summed up his flying time to date, including five hours of night-flying, along with a rating as ‘above average’ as a pilot and ‘average’ as a pilot navigator. ‘Nil’ was the comment for the ‘faults that need watching’ box. This was then signed off by the Chief Flying Instructor and the Wing Commander in charge of Induna. The date was 25 June 1943.
RAF KUMALO
After a few days celebratory leave, Gordon and his good friends were posted to 21 Service Flying Training School (SFTS) at Kumalo, right on the edge of Bulawayo. Despite having more than twice the flying hours required for a private pilot’s licence today, they still had not been awarded their ‘wings’. This would come at the end of the course, where their basic skills would be turned into something the Air Force could use.
In fact, the syllabus at 21 SFTS was split into two parts. The first part was a conversion course to the twin-engine Airspeed Oxford. The Oxford has been forgotten by many today, but few aircraft could have done as much to help win the war. It was a development of the Envoy, infamous in southern Africa for the crash that had killed several members of the RAF boxing team, the one Al Deere had been lucky to avoid. The aircraft involved in that incident was one of seven ‘Convertible Envoys’. These could be fitted with bomb racks and a gun turret on top of the fuselage. The South African order to some degree paved the way for the Oxford, as it showed the flexibility of the design. Airspeed had been founded in 1931 by Alfred Hessel Tiltman and Neville Shute Norway, both of whom were better known with one name less. Tiltman, who was responsible for the design of the Oxford, usually omitted Alfred and was better known as Hessel. Norway, who left the company just before the war, was better known as the author Neville Shute. Under this name he gained considerable fame and many of his books were later filmed, such as A Town Like Alice. The Airspeed Company had been taken over by de Havilland in 1940, the more mature aircraft manufacturers taking control from Swan Hunters.
The twin-engine Airspeed AS.10 Oxford was used for training in navigation, bombing and gunnery, and radio operation. (Author’s collection)
The aircraft itself was a thoroughly modern design, being a semi-monocoque cantilever monoplane with retractable landing gear. Perhaps the most groundbreaking part of the design was that it was intended from the start to be a full crew trainer, capable of instructing pilots, flight engineers, wireless operators, bomb aimers, navigators and gunners. To allow for this, the second pilot’s seat could be removed, giving space for a bomb aimer to lie and aim through the clear nose. Alternatively, this seat could be pushed back, allowing the occupant to use the navigator’s plotting table. A wireless station was included in the cabin and, on almost all early aircraft, a gun turret at the rear of the cabin completed the set-up. Over 8,000 of these versatile aircraft were built, and it is estimated that at least a quarter of all RAF pilots during the war trained on them. Half of them were assembled at Airspeed’s Portsmouth plant, while the rest were built at the company’s shadow plant in Dorset, or by de Havilland, Percival or Standard Motors, at Hatfield, Luton and Coventry, respectively. The Oxford moniker came from the RAF’s tradition of giving names with educational connotations to its training aircraft.
The three young men from Britain must have made their way to Kumalo with a tinge of regret. Some of their comrades from Induna had been posted to Harvard flight schools. This big single-engine trainer was the next step on the way to becoming a fighter pilot. The posting to an Oxford school suggested a life of multi-engine ‘bus driving’. However, this was not guaranteed, as once converted to their new aircraft all the trainee pilots followed an identical syllabus.
The Harvard schools had had their share of interesting, and sometimes tragic, incidents. One pilot had a very lucky escape when he got totally lost during a night-flying exercise and found himself running out of fuel more than 500 miles from home. He bailed out over the edge of the Kalahari, way over the Bechuanaland border, and broke his leg upon landing. Having crawled under a thorn bush, he was subsequently rescued by a young cattle herder near the village of Moiyabana. He was then taken the 30 miles north to the hospital in Serowe, before being returned to Rhodesia. During the search for the missing pilot, the runway of the landing strip at Serowe was extended by the order of Tshekedi Khama so that the Harvards of the search party could safely operate from it.
Those destined for fighters would have been posted to a Harvard flight school.
While that story ended happily, some incidents had more gruesome outcomes, and not just for the pilots. All Service Flying Training Schools included bombing on their syllabuses and this would often take place over dams or other easily recognisable areas. There were six ranges in all and the limits of each one were set out in the ‘Flying Regulations for RATG [Rhodesian Air Training Group]’. One particular range was set up with a buoy as the target on a large reservoir, approached from the river end and exiting over the dam. Judging height over still water is very difficult at the best of times and near misses must have been common. Today there is a Harvard display team in South Africa whose party piece is to make a low pass over water with their wheels touching the surface, kicking up an impressive amount of spray, but there is a big difference between pilots with tens of thousands of flying hours and trainees with less than 200. These low-flying aircraft must have been a magnet for young boys of all races and this might explain why one young African boy was on the dam when a Harvard made a misjudged pass. The pilot was obviously too low and was probably so concentrated on getting himself out of mischief that he did not even see the small figure on the rampart. The boy was killed instantly and this incident caused some problems with the local people, with some believing the child had been ‘murdered’.
Gordon would have been well aware of the low-flying regulations. Flying below 1,000 feet was prohibited at all times. If a pilot found himself under this level he was expected to make an entry in the ‘Low-Flying Book’, meaning a trip to the Chief Flying Instructor’s office, where it was kept. Other restrictions were a 2,000-feet minimum height over built-up areas and game reserves, including the local Matopos. This meant having no opportunity to buzz your friends on their bush treks. Victoria Falls was unusually well protected, with a 75-mile exclusion zone that could only be entered with express permission from RATG headquarters.
RAF Kumalo was right on the edge of the city centre, being only a mile or so down the road from Harare. A left turn off the main road would take you immediately into the administration area with its many single-storey buildings and offices. Behind these, and hidden from the main road by the long grass, stubby trees and a slight dip, was the main concrete runway, surrounded by a large grassy area. Just beyond the opposite ends of the runway were a sewage works and a cemetery. With characteristic black humour it was often pointed out that new pilots would eventually end up deep in one of these. To the northern edge of the aerodrome, the Harare railway line curved past the boundary fence. About 5,000 people were working at Kumalo at any one time and the base provided three churches and a cinema with a different film every night of the week to meet their needs. Best of all in many airmen’s eyes were the number of attractive WAAFs, with the Polish girls being favourite in many a smitten young man’s eye. The base was also home to a large number of native Askaris. Unlike their Batswana neighbours, Rhodesian politics meant that black troops were used exclusively for second-line duties. For the Ndebele descendants of Mzilikazi’s great warriors, it must have been extremely frustrating to have been treated as second-class citizens, with only a relative handful trusted with rifles for base guard duty. Segregation, while not strictly legal, was enforced. Indeed, a visit to Bulawayo could be made easily without having to communicate with a single black face. Townships had grown up around the city, deprived areas where few whites would ever venture. For those who had already served with black troops, and even aircrew, this was something of an eye-opener. However, most pilots seem
to have accepted it as being normal, a reflection of pre-war attitudes to race.
As at Induna, the course at Kumalo consisted of numbered exercises. Gordon’s first flight in an Oxford would have probably included drills 1 to 8 – Air Experience and Familiarity, Effect of Controls, Taxiing, Straight and Level Flying, Climbing and Gliding, Medium Turns, Taking Off into Wind, and Final Approach and Landing. If new pilots were lucky, instructors might give a demonstration of low-flying as well. The biggest difference from Induna was the fact that pupils tended to be assigned to a single instructor. Gordon and Walter maintained their close partnership, both being assigned to Alfred ‘Alf’ Eves.
After about nine flights, the trainees were given their first solo in the Oxford, gaining an extra certificate in their logbook stating that they understood the fuel and oil systems of the training aircraft. Soon afterwards, formation flying and low-flying would be started, at first with the instructor present. Roughly half of Gordon’s flights would now be solo ones, with navigation, instrument and night-flying becoming more important. The next crucial step occurred after about eighty hours on the Oxford, with the cadet pilots being certified not only to fly the Oxford, but also to carry passengers and act as safety pilots for other trainees. From now on Gordon would mainly fly with his classmates, rather than with an instructor. It would have been a natural choice for Gordon to pair up with his friend from Yorkshire, Walter Adamson. The pair flew their first sortie, a photographic flight, in the middle of August.
Walter and Gordon took turns as captain as the flying became more varied and interesting. Formation flying with the other pupils, instrument flying and navigation sorties became progressively more challenging. At the same time more warlike missions were added, forcing the pair to act as a team. Bombing sorties to one of the six ranges, both at high- and low-level, added to the sense that the trainees were getting closer to the day when they would see action for real. This was especially true when formation strikes were practised. Photography and reconnaissance missions added to the skill set, while simulated artillery spotting gave the pilots a reminder that the Air Force did not act alone.
Airspeed Oxford ‘office’. (Toby Williams)
One exercise highlighted by the mythical Pilot Officer Prune in Tee Emm would not have been practised, however. The only Oxford aircrew to be awarded the magazine’s MHDOIF award was a flight sergeant who was a passenger on a cross-country exercise. Feeling the need to relieve himself, he opened the Oxford’s cabin door in order to carry out the act. The next time the pilot saw him was when he returned to his station with a loosely bundled parachute under his arm.
During this period all the sergeant pilots were given their commission interview. Sadly, there were still many RAF officers who were just as conscious of class as ability. One commanding officer’s interview allegedly consisted of only three questions. He believed that a cadet’s future could be predicted on their father’s profession, whether they had attended a grammar school and their preference for rugby over football.
The last existing photo of Gordon Edwards. (Edwards family)
Alf Eves still gave instruction to Walter and Gordon, especially on navigation and night-flying. Perhaps, the most difficult exercise at this point was the night ground-controlled approach, with Gordon learning to land on moonless nights, trusting to his instruments and the controllers on the ground. Gordon would fly with Alf on about one in six sorties, picking up valuable hints and tips. By this time the prospective pilots had more than 200 flying hours under their belts. This was a remarkable improvement on the desperate days of the Battle of Britain, and an unthinkable number from the days of Biggles. In the Great War it was not unknown for pilots to have less than twenty hours of instruction before being posted to the Western Front. It must also be remembered that most of the pilots on Gordon’s course would next be posted not to the front line, but to an Operational Training Unit where their war-flying skills would be honed still further.
Alf would have still been responsible for measuring the progress of his students. This was done through a series of tests, including the Observers test and the Pilot Navigation test. Gordon, Walter and Harry passed these and were well on their way to their wings.
FINAL FLIGHT
At the start of October 1943, Gordon and Walter were well aware that they only had three weeks of their course left. A lot of discussion had gone on between the two as to where they would be posted to next. Given the fact they had been on a twin-engine course, Bomber Command loomed large in these talks although Coastal Command or even Transport Command were possibilities.
By October 1943, Bomber Command was getting well into its stride, largely re-equipped with the four-engine Lancasters and Halifaxes under the command of Arthur Harris, who had come a long way from his Rhodesian bugler-boy days. While lacking some of the glamour of the fighter boys, Bomber Command had had a good year so far. The heroics of 617 Squadron’s ‘Dam Busters’ had generated great publicity and had made heroes of the ‘Bomber Boys’, for perhaps the first time. Along with the introduction of the new ‘heavies’, great leaps had been made in the development of technology. H2S, a ground-mapping radar allowing independent navigation, and ‘Window’, metallic strips cut to the wavelength of German radars that effectively blinded them, had both been introduced. Both these devices had played their part in the destruction of Hamburg, creating a firestorm that had killed more than 30,000 in July.
Coastal Command was another posting they had to consider, although neither fancied the idea of long patrols over the Atlantic in a Sunderland flying boat. They both would have recognised how important the RAF was in the war against the U-boats, but they would have also known that the average Sunderland crew spent more than 200 hours in the air before spotting one of the elusive German submarines. Alternatively, they could have been sent to an anti-shipping squadron where rockets were just becoming the favoured weapon, taking over from the air-dropped torpedo. This would have satisfied the need for excitement the trainee pilots had, but these squadrons had some of the highest loss rates in the entire Air Force.
Neither Gordon nor Walter were interested in being a ‘bus driver’ with Transport Command. While recognising their vital logistical role, it was hardly the stuff to get the blood of young men racing. Perhaps Gordon’s biggest fear was a return to the Middle Eastern theatre, especially now that Italy had been invaded the action was moving back to northern Europe. The fact that the majority of pilots trained in Rhodesia in the first couple of years of the RATG had been sent to the Middle East would have weighed on his mind.
These were the issues on the minds of Edwards and Adamson as they strolled out to their waiting Airspeed Oxford on a sunny Monday morning, the activities of a ‘pay day’ weekend already fading in their memories. Gordon was captain for this flight and Walter was merely present as an observer, an arrangement they were used to. Having flown together many times since their arrival at Kumalo, taking turns as pilot, they had a good understanding of how each other thought in the air, which had helped cement their friendship.
The mission for the day was a simple navigation exercise: taking off from Kumalo they were to head north-east to Selukwe, turning south-west to Gwanda, before finally turning north back to Kumalo. Take-off was set for 10:45 and both pilots were hoping to be back in time for a slightly late lunch.
Having already signed for the aircraft, they arrived at Airspeed Oxford HN607, a Portsmouth-built turret-equipped version of the versatile trainer. Gordon did the external pre-flight checks with Walter casting a careful eye over his preparations. Starting at the entrance door on the left of the fuselage, Gordon worked his way around the aeroplane in a clockwise fashion, using his checklist as a guide. The left wing would have been checked first, looking for any damage to the surface and that the fuel tank cover was secure. The flap and aileron were followed by the engine, checking for any leaks and the condition of the propeller. The port undercarriage was checked next, ensuring that the shock absorber and tyre were
fine. The nose, where the external fire extinguishers were kept, was followed by a repeat of the checks so far – this time on the starboard side. Finally, the fuselage panels and the empennage, including both elevators and the rudder, were checked.
Boarding for a navigation sortie with a camera to prove their success. (RAF Museum Collection – 1988/0416/S)
Satisfied with the external condition of the aircraft, both pilots climbed aboard to complete the final checks. After ensuring that there were no loose items in the cabin, Gordon checked that the first-aid kit was in place, the fire extinguishers were in position, the crash axe was correctly stowed, and that the engine covers were present and correctly packed away. Finally, before strapping in, he would have checked the presence of the water container. This was not part of the standard Oxford pilot’s checklist but had been added locally.
Gordon would have probably reduced the height of his pilot’s seat, while Walter would have raised his. This would have been important for the shorter man, as only the pilot’s seat could be adjusted in flight. Having sat down, they would have checked the electrical switches, undercarriage setting and that the aircraft was fuelled correctly. The ground crew then would have primed the engines before they were started. In the October warmth this would have been a straightforward procedure.
While the engines warmed up, final checks and preparations would have been made, with the engine starting handle being passed in to the aircraft and stowed, while the flap operations were tested. The direction indicator would have been set according to the compass and, finally, a radio check made. Once the chocks were removed the Oxford would have rumbled gently towards the concrete runway as Gordon checked the compass, artificial horizon and the brakes.
The Kalahari Killings Page 8
