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N THE BRINK OF THE SECOND WORLD WAR IN SUMMER 1939, COLONEL STANLEY O BARKSHAW, A DORSET LANDOWNER, WAS SURPRISED BY A LOW-FLYING DE HAVILLAND TIGER MOTH 82A TRAINER FROM A ROYAL AIR FORCE VOLUNTEER RESERVE FLYING SCHOOL.

YE GODS! WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT, CHARD?

S-SORRY, SIR!

OOF!

STORY NORMAN ADAMS ART KEITH PAGE

BUDDING VOLUNTEER RESERVE PILOTS BETWEEN THE AGES OF EIGHTEEN AND TWENTY-FIVE JOINED THE RESERVE TO FLY IN THEIR SPARE TIME, USUALLY AT WEEKENDS.

COVER KEITH PAGE


4 PUPIL-PILOT CHARLIE CHARD’S INSTRUCTOR, FLIGHT LIEUTENANT HARRY STRANG, A FORMER FIRST WORLD WAR PILOT, TOOK CONTROL OF THE AIRCRAFT IN THE NICK OF TIME.

THAT WAS TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT, SIR.

SQUADRON LEADER ARTHUR ASHBY, COMMANDING OFFICER OF THE VOLUNTEER RESERVE TRAINING SCHOOL, WHO HAD FLOWN WITH HARRY IN THE WAR, SIGHED AS RETIRED COLONEL STANLEY BARKSHAW ROARED ACCUSATIONS OF DANGEROUS FLYING DOWN THE PHONE. WHAT ARE YOU RUNNING AT POACHER’S FIELD, ASHBY…A FLYING CIRCUS? YOUR PILOTS ARE SCARING THE LIFE OUT OF MY LIVESTOCK. IT’S GOT TO STOP, D’YOU HEAR?

RELAX, LAD! I’VE GOT HER. LOUD AND CLEAR, SIR. SORRY, COLONEL, I’LL LOOK INTO IT.

BARKSHAW, A RETIRED INDIAN ARMY OFFICER, WAS DEEPLY SUSPICIOUS OF ANYTHING WITH WINGS – APART FROM PARTRIDGES THAT HE REARED ON HIS ESTATE.

CHARLIE CHARD, A FARMER’S SON, DESCRIBED TO FELLOW TRAINEES – ERNIE WIGGINS, WHO WORKED IN THE FAMILY GARAGE IN THE NEARBY PORT OF MONKSEA, AND COLLEGE STUDENT TOM BRAND – HOW HE HAD BEEN PRACTISING A FORCED LANDING WITH NO ENGINE POWER WHEN HE FLEW TOO LOW. LUCKILY, I ONLY FRIGHTENED A FEW SHEEP.

SOUNDS JOLLY EXCITING TO ME.


5 THEIR HILARITY WAS CUT SHORT BY ASHBY WHO HAD OVERHEARD CHARLIE. TELL THAT TO COLONEL BARKSHAW AT MANOR HALL! THERE’S NO ROOM FOR BARNSTORMING IN THE SERVICE, CHARD.

IT WAS MY FAULT, SIR. LEAVE THIS TO ME, LAD.

HARRY BELIEVED CHARLIE WAS BORN TO FLY AND BLAMED THE INCIDENT ON A MISUNDERSTANDING BETWEEN INSTRUCTOR AND PUPIL. ASHBY WAS DUBIOUS, BUT ACCEPTED HIS FORMER COMRADE’S EXPLANATION. I’LL KEEP THAT OLD BUFFER BARKSHAW HAPPY…IF YOU PROMISE TO KEEP YOUR PUPILS OUT OF TROUBLE. WE CAN’T PUT OLD HEADS ON YOUNG SHOULDERS, ARTHUR.


6 HARRY WAS A FAIR BUT RIGOROUS INSTRUCTOR AND WAS DETERMINED CHARLIE WOULD NOT REPEAT THE MISTAKE. HE CAUGHT UP WITH HIS PUPIL IN THE STOREROOM.

C’MON, CHARD! READY FOR ANOTHER LESSON IN FORCED LANDING? TRY AND STOP ME, SIR.

ON WEEK-DAYS THE SQUADRON ATTENDED LECTURES ON THE THEORY OF FLYING, NAVIGATION AND MAP-READING AFTER FINISHING THEIR CIVILIAN JOBS. ONE EVENING ASHBY RECEIVED AN URGENT SIGNAL FROM ROYAL AIR FORCE COMMAND. R.A.F. TRAINEES WERE TO BE POSTED TO POACHER’S FIELD FOR ELEMENTARY TRAINING. THIS MEANS BIG CHANGES.

WE’LL HAVE TO BE ON OUR TOES, HARRY.

BY ROAD AND RAIL THE R.A.F. PILOT-PUPILS ARRIVED AT THE AIRFIELD. HUGO SPEARS AND HIS CRONY DIGBY DE BASINET, BOTH FROM WEALTHY FAMILIES, FOUND THEIR NAVIGATION SKILLS SADLY LACKING AFTER THEY HAD LEFT THE ROAD MAP BEHIND IN A HOSTELRY. I SAY, OLD BEAN, WE’VE TAKEN YET ANOTHER WRONG TURN.

HAW, HAW! SOME NAVIGATOR YOU’D MAKE.


7 THEY EVENTUALLY HALTED AT THE FARM OWNED BY CHARLIE’S FATHER. DESPITE THEIR PRIVILEGED UPBRINGING THE PAIR LACKED TACT AND GOOD MANNERS. HUGO’S VOICE BOOMED OUT WHEN HE SPOTTED CHARLIE.

WE’RE LOST!

NO WORRIES, DIGBY. I’LL ASK THAT BUMPKIN!

CHARLIE GAVE NO HINT THAT HE HAD HEARD HUGO’S LOUTISH REMARK BUT HE DECIDED TO TEACH THE PAIR A LESSON BY PRETENDING TO BE A RUSTIC LABOURER. I SAY, FELLOW, WHICH WAY TO POACHER’S FIELD?

UM, YOU’RE ON WRONG ROAD, SUR.

CHARLIE DELIBERATELY GAVE HUGO THE WRONG DIRECTIONS. WITH SNOBS SUCH AS THOSE FOR COLLEAGUES, HE ALMOST WISHED HE’D JOINED THE ARMY INSTEAD.


8 AFTER NEGOTIATING THE TWISTING ROAD FOR MILES THEY STILL HAD NOT REACHED THE AIRFIELD. HUGO WAS FURIOUS AND KNEW WHO TO BLAME. THAT BUMPKIN HAS SENT US ON A WILD GOOSE CHASE. I’M FAMISHED, OLD BEAN, AND WE’VE POLISHED OFF THE SANDWICHES AND POP.

HUGO’S BAD MOOD CHANGED WHEN HE SPOTTED AN UNUSUAL SIGHT IN PEACETIME BRITAIN – A BARRAGE BALLOON.

AT LAST, WE’RE ON THE RIGHT TRACK.

LET’S HOPE WE HAVEN’T MISSED DINNER.


9 IN THE EVENT OF WAR, BARRAGE BALLOONS WERE MEANT TO PREVENT LOW-LEVEL ATTACKS FROM ENEMY BOMBERS. THE SPECIAL R.A.F. BALLOON UNIT HAD BEEN FORMED THE PREVIOUS YEAR, BUT THEY WERE TESTING EQUIPMENT IN OPEN COUNTRY. THE EXASPERATED HUGO AND DIGBY WERE NO CLOSER TO POACHER’S FIELD.

BLIMEY, SIR. YOU’RE WELL OFF THE BEATEN TRACK. ENOUGH CHATTERING, SERGEANT. JUST TELL ME WHERE TO GO.

I BET THE SARGE HAS A FEW CHOICE SUGGESTIONS.

HUGO’S FOUL TEMPER HAD NOT IMPROVED EVEN THOUGH THEY WERE NOW ON THE RIGHT ROAD. BLAST THAT BUMPKIN! HE’LL BE SORRY IF WE EVER CROSS PATHS.

I’D PUNCH HIS NOSE…IF I KNEW THE ROAD BACK TO HIS FARM.

HUGO DROVE LIKE THE WIND. HIS FAILURE TO TAKE HIS FOOT OFF THE ACDELERATOR AT A SHARP BEND ENDED IN CALAMITY.

HOLD ON, DIGBY!

OH, HECK!


10 IT WAS NIGHTFALL WHEN THEY FINALLY REACHED THEIR DESTINATION. ONLY HUGO’S PRIDE HAD BEEN HURT. HE HAD BEEN FORCED TO LEAVE HIS BELOVED CAR IN A REPAIR WORKSHOP IN MONKSEA. YOU WERE EXPECTED HOURS AGO, SIR. NOW YOU’RE HERE FLYING OFFICER SQUIRES WANTS TO SEE YOU IN HIS QUARTERS.

OH, DASH IT. NOW I’M GOING TO GET IT IN THE NECK.

FLYING OFFICER PETER SQUIRES, THE ROYAL AIR FORCE FLYING INSTRUCTOR, WAS UNIMPRESSED AT THE LATE ARRIVAL OF HUGO AND DIGBY. THEY WERE PROMISING PILOTS BUT HAD THE UNFORTUNATE KNACK OF RUBBING PEOPLE UP THE WRONG WAY. HE WARNED THEM TO AVOID PETTY RIVALRY WITH VOLUNTEER RESERVE CREWS.

IF YOU DON’T TOE THE LINE, YOU WON’T EVER BE AIR CREW. UNDERSTAND?

YES, SIR.




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