Every now and then whilst walking the cliff path to Beachy Head, the unmistakeable purr of a Merlin engine can be heard as a Spitfire roars overhead evocatively recalling a sight that the local inhabitants must have witnessed so often in 1940. Ironically it happened today, the very day that the new Biggin Hill World War II Museum was officially opened. RAF Biggin Hill was at the heart of the Battle of Britain and for generations was familiar to all aspiring RAF Officers as the home of the Officer and Aircrew Selection Centre. I went there in 1969 in my bid to follow in my adopted father’s footsteps and become a fighter ace. Prior to the medical, you were required to fill in a form detailing any conditions that might be an issue, including eyesight. Stupidly, I confessed to needing glasses, as I was very slightly short-sighted. Those that didn’t, were wheeled in by the ageing and cavalier ophthalmologist three at a time. He would say “the bottom line is XYZ isn’t it?”, they’d all say “Yes”, and he would give them the required tick and send them on their way. Worryingly this is absolutely true! However, as I had admitted to fallibility I was given the full going over and failed. It didn’t stop me becoming a helicopter pilot at a later date, but that’s another story.
Much later in life I went on to commentate on Airshows for the BBC, including a VE Day commemoration airshow one year at Biggin with David Dimbleby, who despite his limited aviation knowledge was superbly professional. In 1995, there were numerous VE Day 50th Anniversary celebrations. Having served in both the RAF and the Army, I was a natural to commentate on the Review of The Fleet at Spithead by Her Majesty The Queen. I knew that ships had a bow, not a front end, that submarines didn’t like depth charges and that torpedoes weren’t just a rugby pass, but it would be wrong to say that my knowledge of the Senior Service was extensive. On the other hand Raymond Baxter (of Tomorrow’s World fame) who had been a WWII fighter pilot, was also Commodore of the Little Ships Association, being the proud owner of Sundowner, a gorgeous little cruiser that had determinedly sailed the Channel in the heroic evacuation of Dunkirk and he had a pretty good understanding of matters nautical. He then, was chosen to commentate on the re-enactment of Pegasus Bridge where many of my former Para and Army Air Corps colleagues were involved. I’m sure my bosses at the BBC had their reasons….
(Historical note of interest: Sundowner had previously been owned by C.H. “Lights” Lightoller, who had been Second Officer on the Titanic and the most senior surviving officer)
Anyway, I was working at Portsmouth, with a naval expert who’d never broadcast before alongside me and with the late lamented and much loved Jill Dando as Presenter. I was just about keeping my head above water when we went into a rather quiet phase with not much happening. The Producer suggested that Jill should go outside and do a VoxPop with some of the assembled masses. This was, of course, all live and she asked the first couple she came across whether they were enjoying it. “Yes very much zank you” came the reply in a strong German accent. “Ve hav come especially from Hamburg to vatch”. Needless to say we all descended into peels of laughter off mic, whilst trying to maintain a modicum of composure. Jill was highly professional as you would expect and continued undeterred.
It was a long broadcast and because of my lack of knowledge of the subject, had required an enormous amount of research. I reckoned I had done just about enough but I knew that I hadn’t done the necessary preparation for the next phase, should things go wrong. Having Reviewed the Fleet, the Royal Flotilla set sail into mid Channel, where a Service of Commemoration was to be held with many wreaths thrown onto the choppy waters. Brian Hanrahan (of Falklands War, “I counted them all out and counted them all back” fame) was the on-board commentator, with his words of wisdom, along with the pictures, being relayed via a helicopter, some string and tin cans back to TV Centre and thence around the world. They had warned me that technically it was quite complex and things could go wrong so I should be on standby to pick up, if we lost Brian. I was trusting to luck that the magnificent BBC engineers would have it all in hand……
After about two minutes, I got the dreaded words in my ear. “Pick up Julian, we’ve lost everything”. Everything that is apart from a recording (known as VT) of the first two minutes of ships bobbing on the oggin, surrounded by rapidly drowning wreaths, with men in ecclesiastical robes waxing lyrical in pious tones that we weren’t actually privy to. HM and the gang were also in evidence. So yours truly then had to try to make intelligent comment as they played this two minute loop over and over again. I failed. Miserably. I wouldn’t have got as wet standing under the Niagara Falls as the perspiration cascaded down my back. The seven P’s…..Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance applied. There was nothing proper or prior about my preparation. Needless to say that bit is not on my Showreel.
It wasn’t a Spitfire engine I needed at that point. It was Merlin the Magician.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 