The Lost Years (15 page)

Giving the now thoroughly shaken woman a last, withering look, Morwenna turned her back on her. ‘Come, Perys, if we cannot walk in the park without being accosted by foolish, misguided women I think we should return home.’

As they walked away, Perys looked back. The woman in the flowered hat was looking after them, still in a state of shock. She had made no attempt to retrieve her white feathers. He felt almost sorry for her, but his over-riding feeling was one of admiration for Morwenna.

When he expressed this to her she replied somewhat tremulously, ‘Now it is over I would rather we did not talk about it, or I will probably start shaking. I have never before spoken to anyone in such a manner.’

‘She thoroughly deserved all she got,’ Perys said. ‘And thank you for taking my part. You said all the things I would have lain awake tonight thinking I should have said.’

‘I meant every word of it,’ Morwenna said, adding vehemently, ‘This is a wicked war. There are times when I feel like weeping for some of the wounded soldiers I am tending.’

As though to back up her statement, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes and Perys took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

She gripped his hand tightly in return and did not release it until they reached the Knights-bridge square where the Tremayne home was situated.

Chapter 23

The following morning it was still dark when Perys set off for the famous motor-racing track at Brooklands. He allowed himself plenty of time, determined not to be late for the first day of his pilot training. If he did not get lost along the way he would be there long before the appointed time of nine o’clock.

In fact, he reached Brooklands almost an hour too early, but aeroplanes were already taking off, landing, and circling the race track at speeds far less than those achieved by the cars which formerly raced there.

The only aeroplane Perys had been close to prior to today was the BE2c flown by Rupert. That had been a lean, elegant aircraft. Those he saw now were very different. They appeared to consist of a decidedly flimsy framework of wings, wires and struts, suspended in the midst of which was a gondola containing two men and an engine.

A further difference was the position of the engine. Situated behind the two fliers, the propeller pushed the aeroplane through the air, whereas with the BE2c it pulled it along.

Just outside the perimeter of the Royal Flying Corps compound, but within the racing circuit, was a large hangar, built mainly of corrugated iron. Alongside it was a more permanent building, apparently an office. Above the door a sign read: ‘THE MALLOCH FLYING SCHOOL, proprietor N. Malloch’.

Parking his motor-cycle beside the office building, Perys removed his leather hat and goggles, peeled off his gauntlet gloves and knocked at the door.

There was no response. He tried the door and when it opened he peered inside. It was empty.

He was disappointed, but a clock on the wall inside the office showed there were still more than forty-five minutes before he was expected. He decided to have a look around.

The hangar had sliding doors that formed the whole of the front of the building. Perys thought this must be where the aeroplane he was to fly would be kept.

Hoping to see it, he tried a small door built into one of the larger ones. Like the office door, this too was open. There was not one, but three aeroplanes inside, although one was in pieces. Of the other two, one was similar to those he had just seen flying around the perimeter of the race track. He would learn that this was a Maurice Farman ‘Longhorn’, so called because it had a structure in front of the gondola that gave it the appearance of possessing long horns. He thought it looked even more fragile here than it had in flight.

The second aeroplane he did not recognise, but would later get to know as an Avro 504 two-seater. It was impossible to identify the third aeroplane, or what it had once been. At the moment it was little more than a heap of broken struts, wire, canvas, metal and an engine.

While he was standing in the doorway looking at the aeroplanes, a tall, slim, dark-haired man in his thirties stood up from behind the Avro 504, where he had been adjusting a stay on one of the wings.

‘Can I help you?’ His voice carried a Scots accent.

‘I’m looking for Mr Malloch.’

‘It’s Nick Malloch, and you’ve found him.’ Advancing towards Perys and extending a hand, he added, ‘You’ll no doubt be Perys Tremayne. Welcome to my aviation school.’

As they shook hands, Nick said, ‘I’ve heard a great deal about you, Perys. Rupert told me the story of your flight along the Cornish coast. He’s quite convinced he owes his DSO to you.’

‘Rupert is very generous in more ways than one,’ Perys replied.

‘He’s also a damned good pilot. Do you realise that had you been in the RFC at the time you’d have probably got a DSO too?’

‘Would I? I hadn’t really thought about it. All I had to do was make a drawing of the German ship. It was Rupert who did the flying.’

‘Well, it shouldn’t be long before you’ll be flying as well.’

‘How long?’ Perys asked, eagerly.

‘There’s an Aero Club examiner coming down to Brooklands on Friday of next week to test some of the RFC boys. If the weather holds - and it looks as though it might - you should have enough flying time to try your luck with him. Mind you, you’ll need to burn the midnight oil on theory and such like.’

Perys was disappointed. He had believed it should take no more than a week to master the art of aviation. After all, an aeroplane was only a machine, like a motor-bike, and he had mastered that in no more than an hour. Well, almost mastered it.

‘Rupert says some of the pilots who are being sent to France have no more than thirteen hours’ flying time in their log books.’

‘Most of the thirteen-hour pilots are dead within a couple of weeks,’ Nick said, bluntly. ‘Rupert is a good friend of mine and he’s paying for your course. I intend to see that he - and the RFC - get value for money. If I had my way we would be following the example of the French and many of the colonial governments. They demand a great many more flying hours than we do before a pilot is sent up on combat duties. You won’t get it once you join the RFC, but I’ll make damn sure you’re a good pilot before you go to them and learn bad habits.’

‘Is that what you did for Rupert?’

‘I did - and he’s one of the best pilots in the RFC as a result.’

‘Then I’ll try not to let you down,’ Perys promised.

‘Keep that thought in mind,’ Nick said, adding, ‘I’ll know within a couple of days whether or not you’ll ever make a pilot. If I don’t think you will then I’ll tell you. It won’t necessarily mean you won’t make it as a pilot in the RFC, only that I’ll be protecting my own reputation for turning out some of the best pilots in the country. Now, let’s go to the office. I’ll give you a couple of files containing notes you’ll need to read and learn by heart. Halfway through the morning I’ll come in and question you about them. Then you can come out to the hangar and sit in the cockpit of one of the aeroplanes and we’ll run through the controls.’

‘Which aeroplane will I be learning in?’ Perys asked, hoping it might be the Avro 504. He was to be disappointed.

‘You’ll be learning in the ‘Longhorn’.’ Nick pointed to the aeroplane which, with the exception of the two-seater cockpit, appeared little more than a wooden frame held together by an excessive number of taut wires.

Correctly interpreting Perys’s expression as one of disappointment, Nick said, ‘That’s the one the RFC will expect you to fly in order to prove to them you are a pilot, so that’s the one you will need to learn to fly and qualify in. If I think you’re doing exceptionally well I might let you have a couple of circuits on the Avro. I’ve fitted it with dual controls myself because I personally think it’s an excellent training aeroplane. Now the RFC are beginning to take an interest in it, too. It’s an easy aeroplane to fly - though not so easy to fly well.’

At that moment Perys made a decision to master the Maurice Farman ‘Longhorn’ as quickly as possible in order that he might graduate to the Avro. He thought the ‘Longhorn’ embarrassingly fragile and primitive alongside the far more workmanlike Avro.

He spent the morning in the office, poring over the files Nick had given to him and writing copious notes copied from them. It felt like being back at school once more, although he decided that aeronautics was far more interesting than any of the subjects he had studied there.

Mid-afternoon, Nick entered the office as he had at least half-a-dozen times earlier. On each occasion Perys had been hard at work. Now, the flying instructor asked, ‘How is the work coming along? Do you think you know a bit more about aeroplanes?’

‘I’m finding it all very interesting,’ Perys replied, ‘but there’s a lot more to flying than there is to learning to ride a motor-bike.’

‘That’s quite true,’ Nick agreed, ‘but you won’t learn to fly an aeroplane merely by reading about it. Come on outside and have a look at the ‘Longhorn’.’

‘Are we going up for a flight?’ Perys asked, eagerly.

‘In a while. First I want you to sit in the aeroplane, get the feel of it, learn where everything is and, more importantly, what it does.’

Perys was so keen to familiarise himself with the aeroplane that he tripped and almost fell as he left the office, prompting Nick to remark drily that if he broke a limb it would undoubtedly set his flying ambitions back for some months.

The Maurice Farman ‘Longhorn’ had two cockpits with duplicated controls. Seated in the forward of the two, Perys decided it had fewer gadgets than the BE2c flown by Rupert. Apart from a couple of dials and switches there was only a single ‘joystick’ control, topped by a handlebar contraption.

These simple controls, plus two foot pedals, would take the aeroplane into the air, and they were sufficient for the pilot to keep it there and bring it safely back to earth again. In addition, under battle conditions they were expected to enable the pilot to outmanoeuvre an enemy and occasionally fire a gun at him too.

For half-an-hour, Nick explained the controls and the procedure Perys would need to learn by heart in order to fly the aeroplane, repeating it over and over again until Perys felt he could almost say it word for word.

Not until then did Nick say, ‘Right, put on the flying gear that’s behind the door in the office. We’ll go for a flight.’

Twenty minutes later the Farman ‘Longhorn’ was bumping across the grass from the hangar, with Perys seated in the open forward cockpit, feeling far more exposed than he had in the BE2c. Then the sound of the eighty horsepower engine increased to an impressive roar, and with the undercarriage rumbling noisily beneath them, the ‘Longhorn’ gathered speed along the grass runway.

Suddenly the rumbling ceased and Perys realised the aircraft had left the ground - but the banked car-racing track that surrounded the wartime airfield still rose above them, seemingly dangerously close and getting closer!

For a couple of heart-stopping moments, Perys shut his eyes and awaited the crash that seemed inevitable. When it failed to happen he opened them again - and Brooklands was behind them.

A speaking-tube linked pilot and passenger and Nick’s metallic voice commented, ‘She’s a bit sluggish today. Could do with a bit more tuning.’

Determined not to allow his instructor to realise how apprehensive he had been, Perys asked, ‘Where are we going?’

‘High. I’ll take us up to about five thousand feet and let you have a little play. Then, if you do anything particularly diabolical, I’ll have height enough to put it right. While we’re climbing, put your feet on the pedals and take a light hold of the control stick. You’ll begin to get the feel of controlling the plane. The most important thing you’ll learn is to maintain a firm but light touch. Until you’re an experienced pilot - a very experienced pilot - never take liberties with your aeroplane and never panic. Keep a cool head whatever happens and ninety-nine times out of a hundred you’ll be able to right whatever’s gone wrong. Lose your head and you’re finished. Make that your cardinal rule. Repeat it to yourself a hundred times each day until it’s as familiar to you as your own name.’

It took the ‘Longhorn’ almost half-an-hour to climb to the height at which Nick wanted to fly. During this time he put the aircraft through various manoeuvres, each movement of the controls transmitted to Perys via the dual-control system.

Perys was surprised at how readily the aeroplane responded to the slightest movement of the controls and he quickly realised that Nick was indeed an experienced and skilful pilot. He also soon became used to the sound of the wind singing in the myriad wires that held the Maurice Farman together, but it was much colder than he recalled it being in Rupert’s plane.

Peering over the side of his cockpit as they flew even higher, the countryside resembled a detailed, contoured map. Roads, fields, houses, horses, motor-vehicles - even people, as tiny as ants from this height.

Suddenly, Nick’s voice came through the tube beside his ear. ‘How are you enjoying the flight?’

‘Wonderful - but a bit chilly.’

‘Would you like to try your hand at flying it for yourself now?’

Would he!

‘All right, Perys, she’s all yours. I’ve taken my hands and feet off the controls.’

It had all happened so quickly . . . too quickly. Perys suddenly felt he had neither the know-how nor the confidence to fly the aeroplane. For a few brief moments he froze, not daring to move the controls even a fraction, lest he cause the plane to do something disastrous.

Then a sudden gust of wind caused the aeroplane to tilt, and Perys automatically moved his hand on the joystick in order to correct the movement. He overcompensated and the aircraft tilted in the other direction.

For a few minutes the plane wallowed its way through the air before steadying. Although Nick later denied playing any part in the recover, Perys believed the instructor had brought his own skills to bear in order to bring the aeroplane under control.

For the next few minutes the plane maintained a steady course, then, with Nick giving quietly voiced instructions, Perys succeeded in banking and turning to head back the way they had come. He was delighted.