Readers’ Tale: A year to remember

John Stevenson (aka 5012094 SAC Stevenson J) looks back on a special year in his life.

Many people I think have a special year – always to be remembered. It could be national, such as the 1966 football World Cup or it could be personal. Perhaps trivial, perhaps not.

Mine was the latter and the year was 1959.

First, it was the halfway year of my National Service in the Royal Air Force.

Second, I bought my first decent motorcycle.

Third, I had a flight in a two-seat fighter jet trainer.

Lastly, it was a gorgeous summer. I was 20 years old with no responsibilities except to enjoy myself as much as possible, which suited me down to the ground.

Having completed training, I was posted in the spring to RAF Leighton Buzzard. It was not an airfield but a large mansion for administration in Flying Training Command.

While using a 48-hour pass I could reach it in about three hours on my 1946 BSA 250cc C10 sidevalve – not fast but reliable. I would trundle through London and up the A5, passing on the way the new Routemaster buses and occasionally a Triumph Bonneville.

Britain still made the best.

One day on the unit notice board was this notice: ‘Any airman who would like an Air Experience flight, sign below.’

I signed straight away. To my amazement I was the only one. Don’t ask me why.

A week or so later I was in a MkII Consul driven by an elderly Group Captain to Cranfield, an airfield near Newport Pagnell. I was handed over to the pilot and I am ashamed to say that I cannot remember his name, rank of age. He was just “the pilot”.

We walked out, fully kitted, to the aeroplane. It was not the usual Anson or even a Chipmunk; it was a Gloster Meteor jet fighter (trainer version.

The Meteor was the standard fighter in the RAF in the 1950s. The Mk VIII was normally single seater, but a few were built as trainers called the Mk VII. It was about eight years old and I curse myself for not taking its serial number. Too late now.

I climbed into the rear seat behind the pilot and we taxied out to the runway. Then off.

Smooth. Silent. No vibration, it could show a clean pair of heels.

We climbed, dived, twisted and turned and looped. We may have rolled but I cannot remember. I was allowed to open the throttles and the surge was mind-blowing, such was the power of those two Rolls-Royce engines. My previous throttle openings were on an Amal carburettor on a sidevalve BSA, but then I was barely out of my teens and only a few months in the RAF.

Then we climbed and climbed and climbed. To what height I cannot say. Life had become a bit of a blur.

Looking down, the whole of East Anglia was spread beneath me. I could see in one view King’s Lynn, Cromer and Great Yarmouth. Did I look at the altimeter? No, I did not. Had I been a little more mature I might have been more aware.

And that was my flight in a two-seat jet aeroplane.

A few weeks later I was posted to RAF White Waltham. This was a strange airfield. Near Maidenhead, it was one third RAF, one third private aeroclub flying and one third Fairey Aviation. The latter was testing the ‘Gyro-dine’ helicopter – ridiculously noisy and never made. The only flight achieved at White Waltham was in an elderly Avro Anson.

It was then that I acquired my half decent motorcycle, a three-year-old Francis-Barnett 225cc Cruiser. For a two-stroke it was big. It was top of the Francis-Barnett range and the engine, the Villiers 225cc 1H, was brilliant. I have ridden Cruisers in recent times and my opinion remains unchanged. Finished in a beautiful Arden Green, it had a well-designed swinging arm frame, a deep dual seat and a superb four-speed gearbox. It would cruise effortlessly at 55mph all day. Two-up? No problem.

I would ride home after work to my parents’ house in Mitcham, South London. In the evening, around 11pm on the return trip, I could hear the road cooling down from that wonderful summer’s day. Without doubt an hour and a quarter of sheer bliss.

So, was the future to be a world of Hawker Hunters and Canberras, or A10a and Speed Twins? I had to decide…

Readers’ Tale by John Stevenson (aka 5012094 SAC Stevenson J)