Post by Dave Homewood on Jun 13, 2023 21:04:50 GMT 12
From the New Zealand Herald dated 22nd of August 1942:
PILOT'S ESCAPE
DROP OF 27,000 FEET
STRUGGLE WITH PARACHUTE
How he baled out of his Spitfire when he was recently engaged in an air battle over Malta, is described in a letter from Pilot-Officer J. D. Rae, of Auckland.
"One well-placed cannon shell," he says, "struck the base of the control column, placing me in a similar position to a car without a steering wheel. Some shells smashed into the instrument panel; obliterating most of the instruments, others penetrated the petrol tanks, causing petrol to pour into the cockpit, and the armour-plating behind my back must have been struck because there was an odd nick in the top of my helmet and a slight furrow on the top of the head.
Terrific Stress on Pilot
"The machine went straight into a spiral dive, picking up a colossal speed. The height then would be approximately 27,000 ft. I decided to depart without further ado. Owing to the speed, estimated at nearly 500 miles an hour, plus the spiralling effect, the stress was terrific and I failed in my attempts to lift the hand high enough to undo and remove my helmet, to which was attached oxygen and radio telephone equipment. Fortunately I was able to lift my hand high enough to extract the pin which releases the Sutton harness, a strap which holds one in. My first attempt at getting out resulted in the opposite and I finished under the instrument panel and tangled up with the remnants of the control stick.
Hurtling Through the Air
"After several attempts to extricate myself from the mess I suddenly found myself free and hurtling through the air. All that had to be done was to pull the ripcord. When standing on the ground you know exactly where it is and it is just a matter of pulling the handle. But when there is a deafening roar in your ears and a mix-up of clouds, sky and earth whirling past like a crazy panorama my frantic grabs for the ripcord were having no results, it was at the useless stage of panic that I remembered the good book-form logic, namely, 'when trying to find the ripcord, look for it,' and that is precisely what I did, after tearing off the flapping oxygen mask so that I could see, and there it was already half-extracted.
Fortunate Landing
"I pulled it, and suddenly everything was quiet and peaceful and I seemed to be perfectly motionless, suspended far above the earth. The only sounds to be heard were the droning of Merlin and Daimler Benz engines above intermingled with occasional bursts of cannon fire. Pure luck was still with me as the wind was in the right direction and blew toward the island, which looked so small a thing to hit from that height.
"I had no wish to hang conspicuous and completely helpless in a parachute while there were still Messerchmitts about. I attempted to collapse the parachute, at the same time side-slipping toward the isle, but the physical effort required coupled with the lack of oxygen and the previous effort of getting out of the machine, left me completely exhausted. It seemed an interminable age before I neared the ground and yet in the last few seconds the rocky and uneven surface just rushed up to meet me. I rolled over a few times without doing any damage to my person apart from the wounds sustained from a cannon shell which exploded by my leg."
PILOT'S ESCAPE
DROP OF 27,000 FEET
STRUGGLE WITH PARACHUTE
How he baled out of his Spitfire when he was recently engaged in an air battle over Malta, is described in a letter from Pilot-Officer J. D. Rae, of Auckland.
"One well-placed cannon shell," he says, "struck the base of the control column, placing me in a similar position to a car without a steering wheel. Some shells smashed into the instrument panel; obliterating most of the instruments, others penetrated the petrol tanks, causing petrol to pour into the cockpit, and the armour-plating behind my back must have been struck because there was an odd nick in the top of my helmet and a slight furrow on the top of the head.
Terrific Stress on Pilot
"The machine went straight into a spiral dive, picking up a colossal speed. The height then would be approximately 27,000 ft. I decided to depart without further ado. Owing to the speed, estimated at nearly 500 miles an hour, plus the spiralling effect, the stress was terrific and I failed in my attempts to lift the hand high enough to undo and remove my helmet, to which was attached oxygen and radio telephone equipment. Fortunately I was able to lift my hand high enough to extract the pin which releases the Sutton harness, a strap which holds one in. My first attempt at getting out resulted in the opposite and I finished under the instrument panel and tangled up with the remnants of the control stick.
Hurtling Through the Air
"After several attempts to extricate myself from the mess I suddenly found myself free and hurtling through the air. All that had to be done was to pull the ripcord. When standing on the ground you know exactly where it is and it is just a matter of pulling the handle. But when there is a deafening roar in your ears and a mix-up of clouds, sky and earth whirling past like a crazy panorama my frantic grabs for the ripcord were having no results, it was at the useless stage of panic that I remembered the good book-form logic, namely, 'when trying to find the ripcord, look for it,' and that is precisely what I did, after tearing off the flapping oxygen mask so that I could see, and there it was already half-extracted.
Fortunate Landing
"I pulled it, and suddenly everything was quiet and peaceful and I seemed to be perfectly motionless, suspended far above the earth. The only sounds to be heard were the droning of Merlin and Daimler Benz engines above intermingled with occasional bursts of cannon fire. Pure luck was still with me as the wind was in the right direction and blew toward the island, which looked so small a thing to hit from that height.
"I had no wish to hang conspicuous and completely helpless in a parachute while there were still Messerchmitts about. I attempted to collapse the parachute, at the same time side-slipping toward the isle, but the physical effort required coupled with the lack of oxygen and the previous effort of getting out of the machine, left me completely exhausted. It seemed an interminable age before I neared the ground and yet in the last few seconds the rocky and uneven surface just rushed up to meet me. I rolled over a few times without doing any damage to my person apart from the wounds sustained from a cannon shell which exploded by my leg."
