James WhartonA Cold War-era Bomber is pulled quietly onto a runway on a bright autumn morning at an airfield in Warwickshire. When it stops, a ground crew congregates around the aircraft. They place chocks on its big, black wheels. Technicians with checklists busy themselves with important tasks. Three men emerge from a small office in olive green coveralls with transparent map pockets on their legs, insignia on their arms and chests denoting their attainments in the air. They walk towards their awaiting aircraft with an unmistakable swagger. These men are pilots.
Ten minutes later, a noise echoes miles around the airfield; a high-pitched hum, a sound that ought to have been consigned to the history books. But not today. In the cockpit, the pilot pushes his thrust levers forward. The Vulcan lives. The 57-year-old aeroplane roars down the runway stopping cars on a nearby A road. Is it about to lift its nose and take to the sky?
The engines' noise reaches deafening heights. Inside, the two men upfront look at each other and nod. The Vulcan's front wheels lift off the tarmac. But as it does, the engines fall silent. The runway comes back into contact with the landing gear. Our brush with history has ended. The aircraft stops, and onlookers applaud the legacy this exercise has forced to the forefront of everybody's conscience. What a sight. And what a job. But who are these men, and why is this long-retired iconic bomber teasing its nostalgic fans with daring aborted take-offs on a runway in South Warwickshire? What is going on? The dedicated volunteers behind one of just three Avro Vulcans that can still turn on its engines and complete "fast-taxi" runs, wowing crowds with its incredible noise and presence, told of their role in keeping the Vulcan's memory alive. During a day with them, they gave a rundown of their role as they prepared for one such demonstration. This is the story of Avro Vulcan XM655 and three of her maintenance and preservation society members, all of whom ex-crewmembers of the iconic Bomber. What Was Vulcan Like To Fly?"It was exhilarating." Those are the words of Nick Dennis, who, from 1961, was an RAF pilot responsible for flying Vulcan. Back then, the aircraft was used to carry the UK's nuclear deterrent. He recalled the days of his flying career he spent on standby for nuclear war: "We were doing QRA [quick reaction alert], which was a duty of 24 hours and 48 hours over the weekend. "I can remember callouts at Coningsby when it was snowing outside. And out we would go, straight into the aircraft, and we would wait and see how far we go, whether it was a taxi or just an engine start. Fortunately for us, it wasn't anything real. It was always a practice. It was an arduous job." In the 1960s, nuclear war seemed more likely than it did later or even today. Nick, asked how it felt knowing that the aircraft he would be firing up and possibly flying contained Britain's retaliatory nuclear weapons, said:
"So, that was the very serious side of it, and it was taken very seriously by everyone on QRA. The most serious moments of my life. I was pretty young then, and I think you think you are pretty invincible and that nothing like that will happen to you. But it was serious." During the Cold War, the Vulcan was not limited to nuclear security activities. They also found a purpose as the Royal Air Force's primary conventional bomber. Nick told us how he played a part in an unexpected operation in the Far East in 1964. "The UK was a member of SEATO [Southeast Asia Treaty Organisation], and as a result, we had to be able to reinforce the Far East, commitments such as Malaysia after its independence. "Indonesia made threats against Malaysia, and that resulted in the Indonesian Confrontation in 1964. So, we had to at very short notice go out in support of Malaysia. And we carried 21 one-thousand-pound bombs, and within 24-hours we were on our way, and we were out there for three months." For Nick, there were other occasions after that when he would have to rehearse responding to similar emergencies as part of standard operational training. He proudly told us this involved several circumnavigations of the planet at the controls of a Vulcan. "If you were going west-about, then you would have to fly right across America, then cross the Pacific, and you would go as far a Singapore. Then after a period out there, you would come back, continuing on west, coming back over the Indian Ocean.
Why Did The RAF Need Vulcans?Today, Nick is part of the XM655 Maintenance and Preservation Society, a group of dedicated ex-Vulcan crew members and volunteers working tirelessly to keep one of just three remaining aircraft in a full ground running condition. The aircraft in question, Avro Vulcan B Mk2 XM655, is the youngest surviving Vulcan, initially delivered to IX Squadron at RAF Coningsby in November 1964. After 20 years of service, during which she flew crews worldwide, including Nick himself, in 1984, she was retired. After falling into a state of disrepair, in 1998, the society was formed. Today, the XM655 is one of just three Vulcans that remain in a taxable condition. The society proudly boasts that the rear spar of the aircraft is in excellent condition and that she is virtually complete in terms of installed equipment. Mike Pollitt, a Vulcan pilot from 1974 and RAF officer with 34 years of service, is at the helm of the society. Mike gave a tour around the aircraft and allowed our reporter the opportunity to sit inside the cockpit. While there, he outlined the origins of the aircraft's service. "You've got to go back to 1945 and the end of the Second World War. In 46, the UK had decided that it was going to have its own independent Atom Bomb, and they were building it at the time. It was a device known as Blue Danube. It had a 16 to 18 kiloton yield, which is the same as the ones they dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima. But it's a monster of a weapon - it's over 24 feet long, it's five feet in diameter and weighs five and a quarter tonne this bomb. And the Air Ministry at the time, the predecessor of the Ministry of Defence, each armed force had its own ministry, decided they wanted to get this rather rapidly to the Soviet Union to have a credible deterrent. "They are looking for something capable of flying over 50,000 feet, faster than 500 knots, which is 575 miles per hour, a range of 3,750 nautical miles, which just happens to coincide with the front-line bomber of the period, the Avro Lancaster. They want an all-weather capability and, if they don't want to be carrying Blue Danube around, a capability of carrying at least 20 one-thousand pounders. Three months later, Roy Chadwick and his team at Avro submitted the design of the B1 Vulcan.
Mike, asked to describe the association his life has had with this iconic aeroplane, used words like "pride" and "incredible" but also detailed how onlookers "just couldn't take [their] eyes off it once it was in motion." Nick, his co-society fellow pilot, agreed, adding: "I can always remember the last time she flew. She did a round-robin flying to the northern airfields on the Saturday and the southern airfields in the UK on the Sunday. And I can remember standing here at Wellsborne, as I had done many times in my 13 years that I spent on the Vulcan, watching her approaching from the south and everyone went totally quiet.
"And that's the effect it had on you. That's the effect it had on me. I saw Vulcan every day, I never tired of seeing it and I thoroughly enjoyed flying it. I was a lucky man." Vulcan And The Falklands WarAnother ex-Vulcan crew member involved with XM655 is Air Electronics Officer Rod Trevaskus, a Cornwall man who served on the aircraft in the mid-1960s and from 1978 to 1982. Like Nick and Mike, Rod, who wears his original flight coveralls while working around the Vulcan, recalled his remarkable experiences of the operations he participated in during the Falklands War. "When the balloon went up, I was sitting on the Vulcan force, which was just disbanding. We thought they were probably not going to deal with us, and anyway, we couldn't reach [the Falklands].
"Mayday!" Emergency Over The OceanOn 3 June 1982, Rod was the Air Electronics Officer onboard XM597 for operation Black Buck Six, a bombing raid on an Argentine anti-aircraft radar position situated on the main island of the Falklands. The mission was successful. Rod and his crewmates destroyed their target of a Skyguard fire-control radar system, killing four members of the Argentine Army in the process. However, a crisis occurred when their in-flight refuelling probe broke during the journey home, leaving Rod and his colleagues facing a life and death situation. He detailed the events that night in the flight deck:
"It became obvious we weren't going back to Ascension Island and started to head for Brazil and think what we had to do." At this point, the crew members on XM597 contended with conflicting priorities. As Rod explained, this involved security procedures and the prospect of the aircraft crashing into the sea. He added: "We had all the force disposition, all the secret documents. The whole lot. "I said, I think we're going to need to get rid of this. If we do get to Brazil, we didn't actually know how they would welcome us, if they would welcome us. And the only way to get rid of something like that in a Vulcan is to open the main door and chuck it out.
Rod then needed to ditch the aircraft's secret documents. After stuffing them in a ration box, he dropped them in the ocean. His thoughts then shifted to that of surviving. "I eventually got in contact with Brazil. And they wanted to know what aircraft we were. So, I said we were a four jet, and they asked what is a four jet? I just said, yes, that's correct. We wanted to get as close as the coast as we might and then they kept saying, where are you from, where are you from?" Rod, laughing, added:
"But they didn't want us to land. We weren't allowed to approach. In the end, I got the 1215, the civil emergency frequency, and declared a Mayday.
"Then they came back and gave us permission to land." The crew managed to survive a hair-raising spiral landing on a runway too short to take an aircraft that size. When it landed, XM597 had less than 2,000 pounds of fuel remaining ⦠not even enough to complete a circle of the airport. Rod and his fellow crew were not greeted with a welcoming party. Instead, "a whole load of guys with guns surrounded us." He added: "We didn't know what to expect. They took the captain away, and we said whatever you say, we will agree with. We were supposed to carry nine-millimetre pistols, but we thought, what the hell are we going to do with a pistol? So, we didn't bother to take arms with us. Why would I want to shoot a Brazilian? They weren't in the war, they were not the enemy. We just didn't know how they would perceive us. We were treated reasonably well. Some of the younger officers were a bit anti because they were more friendly with their Argentine neighbours. They had a bit of animosity. But they treated us very well. "Their interrogation technique was a high-ball glass filled with Jonnie Walker Black Label. I thought OK, we can cope with this." Today, Vulcan's exploits in military service and the displays it went on to conduct after retirement are confined to history. But thanks to the careful work and attention of XM655 Maintenance and Preservation Society, her large number of admirers still have an opportunity to get up close and personal with one of just a handful of these inspiring examples of British aviation heritage. It might not be quite as exciting as witnessing her V-shaped silhouette passing overhead, but when her thunderous engines scream as Mike, Nick and Rod fast taxi her along the tarmac, three men bound by their brotherhood experiences of flying her on operations in decades past, it is possible to visualise the golden era of this iconic Bomber once again. If only briefly.
The XM655 Maintenance & Preservation Society depends on the support of its members and attendees to regular events organised around their Vulcan. For more information or to sign up as a member, visit their website on www.xm655.com. via JC's Naval, Maritime and Military News https://ift.tt/2XTx7gq
She was the third member of the class, which included five other ships. The Connecticut-class ships were armed with a main battery of four 12-inch (305 mm) guns and had a top speed of 19 knots (35 km/h; 22 mph). Vermont was laid down in May 1904 at the Fore River shipyard and launched in August 1905. The ship entered service with the Atlantic Fleet in March 1907. Shortly after she entered service, Vermont joined the Great White Fleet for its circumnavigation of the globe in 1908–1909. She took part in the international Hudson–Fulton Celebration in New York in 1909 and made trips to Europe in 1910 and 1913. Thereafter, the ship became involved in interventions in several Central American countries, including the United States occupation of Veracruz during the Mexican Revolution, where two of her crew earned the Medal of Honor. During the United States' participation in World War I from April 1917 to November 1918, Vermont served as a training ship for engine room personnel. From November 1918 to June 1919, she made a series of trips to return American soldiers from Europe before being decommissioned in June 1920. She was sold for scrap in November 1923 according to the terms of the Washington Naval Treaty. Her bell currently resides at the Vermont State Capitol in Montpelier, VT. via JC's Naval, Maritime and Military News https://ift.tt/3o6V5A9
She was named V-5 (SC-1) when her keel was laid down on 10 May 1927 by the Portsmouth Navy Yard in Kittery, Maine.
V-5 was launched on 17 December 1929 sponsored by Mrs. Frances Adams (née Lovering), wife of Charles F. Adams, Secretary of the Navy, and commissioned on 15 May 1930, Lieutenant Commander John H. Brown Jr. in command. World War II[edit]Narwhal was one of four[7] submarines in overhaul caught by the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in the early morning of 7 December 1941. Within minutes of the first enemy bomb explosions on Ford Island, Narwhal's gunners were in action to assist in the destruction of two torpedo planes. 1st-3rd Patrols and overhaul, February 1942-April 1943[edit]On her first war patrol – from 2 February-28 March 1942 — Narwhal, with Lieutenant Commander Charles W. "Weary" Wilkins in command, departed Pearl Harbor to reconnoiter Wake Island on 15–16 February, then continued on to the Ryukyu Islands. On 28 February, she made her first torpedo attack of the war, heavily damaging Maju Maru. Six days later, the submarine sank Taki Maru in the East China Sea. She spent her second war patrol – from 28 May – 13 June – in defense of Midway Atoll. As TF 16 – with the aircraft carriers Enterprise, Hornet, and Yorktown — prepared to meet the Japanese attack, Narwhal joined Plunger and Trigger in scouting east of Midway; during the Battle of Midway on 3–6 June, these submarines – along with 15 others – accomplished nothing as the Japanese did not move east of Midway.[2]: 236–40 Narwhal's third patrol – from 7 July – 26 August – took her close to Hokkaidō to stalk Japanese shipping off the Kurile Islands. She claimed two small inter-island freighters on 24 and 28 July. One reference credits Narwhal with 3 sinkings on 24 July.[8] However, it is likely that the gunboat mentioned was too small to be considered in the official tally, and the other two sinkings are the ones that took place around this date. On 1 August, Narwhal included Meiwa Maru to her credit despite aircraft bomb and depth charge retaliation. One reference credits Narwhal with an additional sinking on 1 August (the tanker Koan Maru).[8] Seven days later, she sank Bifuku Maru. On the morning of 14 August, the submarine raised her periscope to discover three enemy destroyers crossing her stern in column. She waited while the destroyers "were running all over the ocean" dropping depth charges. Only slightly damaged, Narwhal departed her patrol area the next day. On 8 September, Narwhal sailed from Pearl Harbor for the West Coast, arriving Mare Island Navy Yard on 15 September for overhaul. Her aging BuEng MAN engines were replaced at this time with four GM-Winton 16-278As and other upgraded machinery, including more powerful electric motors and new batteries.[1]: 180 She also received four external torpedo tubes, two in the bow and two on top of the stern casing, and may have received increased torpedo deck stowage as well. She went on to San Diego on 4 April 1943, arriving two days later to embark a company of the 7th Infantry Division Provisional Scout Battalion (including Alaskan Native scouts of the Alaska Territorial Guard) for the invasion of Attu Island.[9] On 18 April, she set course for Alaska, arriving at Dutch Harbor on 27 April. 4th-8th Patrols, April 1943-December 1943[edit]The submarine began her fourth war patrol – from 30 April-25 May – departing Dutch Harbor for the western Aleutian Islands. She rendezvoused with sister ship Nautilus on 11 May off the northern side of Attu Island, and the two ships debarked Army Scouts in rubber boats for the preliminary landings in the recapture of the island, a venture successfully completed on 29 May. Narwhal returned to Pearl Harbor with a stopover at Dutch Harbor on 14 and 18 May. With Commander Frank D. Latta in command, she again got underway for the Kurile Islands on her fifth war patrol, from 26 June – 7 August. Her mission – beginning on 11 July – was to create diversion by bombarding an air base on Matsuwa. Lapon, Permit, and Plunger were about to attempt an exit from the previously impenetrable Sea of Japan which they had so daringly invaded. The night of 15 July, Narwhal drew so much enemy attention to her presence she was forced to dive from the shells, but she accomplished her mission: the other submarines slipped through Etorofu Strait without detection. Narwhal made her sixth war patrol – from 31 August – 2 October – off the Marshall Islands. On the morning of 11 September, she torpedoed and sank Hokusho Maru before a Japanese escort caught up with her. After a severe depth charging, she departed for the Kwajalein Atoll area. By the end of September, the submarine was en route to Brisbane, Australia. Upon arrival, Narwhal prepared to participate in the campaign to assist the guerrilla movement in the Philippines begun in January 1943, when Gudgeon disembarked six Filipinos and a ton of equipment on Negros Island. Narwhal eventually became the leading submarine in supporting the Philippine guerrilla movement with nine secret transport missions to her credit. Narwhal was loaded down with 92 short tons (83 t) of ammunition and stores and a party of ten for her seventh patrol, from 23 October – 22 November, supporting Philippine guerrillas. She was in the Sulu Sea, off Mindanao, the night of 10 November en route to Puluan Bay when two Japanese ships astern opened fire. The night of 13 November, she entered Ptiluan Bay stealthily to disembark her passengers and half of her cargo while lying off the starboard side of Dona Jitana Maru. By midnight Narwhal was safely on her way to Nasipit, on Mindanao, where she docked on 15 November to unload the rest of her stores to the tune of "Anchors Aweigh" played by a grateful Filipino band.[10]: 173 She then embarked 32 evacuees, including eight women, two children, and a baby, for Darwin, Australia, and the end of her patrol. Picking up such odd assortments of passengers and secret cargo soon became routine for Narwhal. She departed on her eighth war patrol – from 25 November – 18 December – with the usual cargo and 11 Army operatives bound for Cabadbaran, on Mindanao, arriving Butuan Bay on 2 December for disembarking. With seven evacuees on board, Narwhal sailed for Majacalar Bay, arriving off Negros Island on 3 December. Taking on nine more people, she stood out of Alajacalar Bay on 5 December. Around sunrise that same day, the submarine sank Hinteno Maru in a blaze of gunfire. On 11 December, she disembarked her passengers at Port Darwin, then continued on to Fremantle, Western Australia. 9th-12th Patrols, January 1944-July 1944[edit]On her ninth war patrol – from 18 January-15 February 1944 – the submarine returned to Darwin to embark observer Commander F. Kent Loomis and more stores. Following a nighttime transit of the Surigao Strait, Narwhal slipped west and north, made a submerged patrol off Naso Point, Panay, then headed for Pandan Bay to transfer cargo to sailing craft. With six new passengers, she came off Negros Island on 7 February to deposit 45 tons of supplies. Narwhal then received 28 more evacuees for the trip to Darwin, including Professor Roy Bell and family.[11]: 155–160 On her tenth war patrol – from 16 February – 20 March — Narwhal delivered more ammunition to Butuan Bay on 2 March. With 28 new people on board, she departed on 3 March for Tawi-Tawi. That evening, she damaged Karatsu (the captured USS Luzon (PR-7)) and was heavily bombarded with depth charges by enemy escorts for her trouble. On the night of 5 March, two small boats – assisted by rubber boats from Narwhal — put off for shore with cargo. Three Japanese destroyers closed in later; she eluded them and transferred her passengers, now a total of 38, to Chinampa on 11 March before docking at Fremantle. Narwhal, with Commander Jack C. Titus in command, departed on her 11th war patrol – from 7 May – 9 June – for Alusan Bay, Samar, where she landed 22 men and supplies, including electric lamps, radio parts, and flour for the priests, the night of 24 May. By 1 June, the submarine was unloading 16 men and stores on the southwest coast of Mindanao. She ended this patrol at Port Darwin.[2]: 775 )]][12] The twelfth war patrol – from 10 June – 7 July – gave Narwhal a chance for some action. On 13 June, she submerged for reconnaissance of Bula, Ceram Island, an enemy fuel depot. That night, the submarine closed the shore and fired 56 rounds of 6 inch (152 mm) projectiles to destroy several gasoline storage tanks and set fires around a power house and pumping station area before she had to retreat from the salvos directed at her. Three minutes before sunset on 20 June, she rendezvoused with native boats to send her cargo ashore during a suspenseful nine and one-half hours. Within 30 minutes she had completed unloading and taking on 14 evacuees, but a submarine chaser was in her wake. Narwhal evaded him to do some shooting herself the next day at a Japanese motorized sailboat and on 22 June at the tanker Itsukushima Maru. After putting her evacuees ashore at Port Darwin on 29–30 June, she continued to Fremantle. 13th-15th Patrols, Decommissioning, and Scrapping, August 1944-May 1945[edit]Her 13th war patrol – from 12 August – 10 September – started at Fremantle and ended at Port Darwin. On the night of 30 August, Narwhal surfaced in Dibut Bay on the east coast of Luzon for her usual disembarking procedures, greatly speeded this time by the use of bamboo rafts built by the shore party under the direction of Major Robert Lapham and Lieutenant Commander Charles "Chick" Parsons, a liaison man in the Philippine supply and evacuation missions. Before midnight on 2 September, Narwhal sent a party and supplies ashore to a beach off the mouth of the Masanga River, and received four evacuees in return to complete the patrol. On her 14th war patrol – from 14 September – 5 October — Narwhal deposited men and stores on Cebu Island on 27 September, then took off for Siari Bay, where on 29 September she received 31 liberated prisoners-of-war (POWs) rescued from the sea after Paddle sank several Japanese transports off Sindagan Point on 6 September. However, according to a POW survivor's account, Narwhal picked up 82 POW's vice 31 at Siari, Mindanao. "Forty-one placed in the forward torpedo room and 41 in the aft torpedo room".[13] Narwhal found herself in danger the afternoon of 30 September, when she submerged to avoid a Japanese antisubmarine patrol plane, her stern planes locked in a 20° down-angle. Forced to blow her main ballast to stop the steep dive, Narwhal reversed direction and popped out of the water stern first just two minutes after she went down. Luckily, the patrol plane could not maneuver fast enough to return before she again dove. After a short refit at Mios Woendi, Dutch New Guinea, Narwhal conducted her 15th and last war patrol from 11 October – 2 November, with Commander William G. Holman in command. Friday the 13th brought a near attack by a PBY Catalina. Once the submarine was recognized, the aircraft signaled "GOOD LUCK NARWHAL." The evening of 17 October she was off a Tawi Tawi beach to deliver 11 short tons (10.0 t) of cargo. Two days later she unloaded the rest of her cargo and 37 men at Negros Island and took on her last passengers, 26 in all, for the trip to Brisbane. Narwhal departed Brisbane on 6 January 1945 for the east coast via the Panama Canal, entering the Philadelphia Navy Yard on 21 February, where she was decommissioned on 23 April. She was struck from the Naval Vessel Register on 19 May and sold for scrap. Narwhal's two 6 inch (152 mm) guns are permanently enshrined at the Naval Submarine Base New London, at Groton, Connecticut. There is an oral tradition in the US submarine force that USS Narwhal (SSN-671) received her hull number as a deliberate re-arrangement of the older Narwhal's hull number of SS-167. via JC's Naval, Maritime and Military News https://ift.tt/3zE8D8p |
AuthorJohn Currin served 15 years in the Royal New Zealand Navy and has retained an interest in naval, marine, military and happenings around the world. Archives
January 2024
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