The Fitter’s Tale (apologies to Chaucer!)

The following is all true with only the names removed to protect personal feelings (but they know who they are!).

It was a murky November afternoon and the only aircraft left to return to base was the Squadron’s two-seat Jaguar which was being flown by the Senior Rating Officer with the Senior Engineering Officer in the back seat.  A seeing-in crew sat in a Land-Rover at the edge of the runway awaiting its arrival and, as expected, the sound was heard through the low cloud of the returning aircraft which gave them a boost as they anticipated getting the aircraft fed, watered and tucked away in its nice warm hangar and for them to stand down and to enjoy the forthcoming weekend.

Through the gloom the dark shape of the Jaguar lined itself up on the runway but something was wrong; the aircraft landing lights couldn’t be seen.  The Electrician said that it was not unknown for them to be unserviceable (but Electricians always tended to state the obvious) and this view was silently shared until the aircraft flashed by and all realised the reason for no lights was that the undercarriage clearly hadn’t been lowered!

Too late, the aircraft settled onto the runway and a shower of sparks as the underside contacted concrete caused the pilot to believe he was on fire, so he ejected.  His passenger, although he hadn't been consulted, thought this to be good advice and followed suit.  Within an instant the air above the abandoned aircraft was filled with canopies, ejection seats and parachutes.

The seeing-in crew rushed out onto the airfield at the same time as the emergency vehicles.  An Ambulance quickly found and collected the crew whilst the Land Rover pursued the aircraft which by now had slewed off the runway to park itself on the grass, engines still running.  They arrived shortly after the Fire Crew who in short order had surrounded the wounded Jaguar, fire hoses poised.  However, as there was no fire, the Firemen didn’t seem quite certain what to do next.  The stand-off situation was rescued by the engine mechanic on the team who leaned over the cockpit sill and selected the appropriate switches to "turn the ignition off".  Silence ensued and fire hoses were lowered.

The subsequent Court of Enquiry confirmed that the aircraft had been quite serviceable but the pilot had just forgotten to lower the wheels.  He was admonished, promoted and then posted to another unit (as the Senior Flying Instructor! ).  The Engineering Officer (who broke his ankle on alighting from his parachute drop) left the RAF shortly afterwards and became a Captain of Industry for a major defense contractor.  As for the aircraft, it spent 16 months being repaired by a Maintenance Unit and after a few tweaks and adjustments was returned to the squadron.

I flew on its second air-test (therefore qualifying to have flown in an aircraft from which the crew had ejected - no mean claim when you think about it.)  At the time I didn't appreciate the finer implications of all this but I guess the saga provided me with a few lessons in life.  Consider this:

• Just because you are in a senior position doesn’t mean you are above simple errors (Senior Pilot?)
• You might be a small cog but it may be that you have the required knowledge to make the difference (The Engine Mechanic?)
• Oh yes, do a good job most of the time and the system will most probably take care of you in times of trouble!