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The story about Old 113 the target towing Mustang

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The story about Old 113 the target towing Mustang

Old 26th Jul 2020, 06:35
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The story about Old 113 the target towing Mustang



Picture of Old 113 flown by Centaurus at Townsville in 1953.

Back in 1953, No 2 RAAF Operational Training Unit (OTU) at Williamtown was a budding fighter pilot’s paradise. It was there I learned to fly Mustangs and single seat Vampires. Regretfully my gunnery results were unable to match my youthful enthusiasm and I quickly found myself packed off to Townsville the home base of No 10 (Maritime Reconnaissance) Squadron. My despondency at having failed the fighter course turned to delight when I discovered a single Mustang sharing the tarmac with several Lincolns, a Dakota and a Wirraway. The Mustang ‘s serial number was A68-113 and while it was used for fighter affiliation (mock combat) with the Lincolns, its main purpose was to tow drogues at which Lincoln air gunners fired cannon and machine guns. Perhaps because it only flew a few hours each month, 113 seemed to spend most of the time with its cowls on the hangar floor and a maintenance sheet full of irritating snags such as hydraulic and glycol coolant leaks.

The Lincoln was a heavy bomber powered by 4 Rolls Royce Merlin liquid cooled engines. It was armed with twin 0.5-inch calibre machine guns in the nose and tail turrets, and a pair of 20mm cannon in the mid upper turret on top of the fuselage. It was essentially a larger version of the wartime Avro Lancaster, with a fully loaded weight of 37,000 kgs and a crew of seven. For air gunnery practice, the Mustang would line up for take off while ground staff attached the drogue and 100 yards of cable to a stanchion near the right wing tip. This installation ensured the cable stayed well clear of the tail surfaces. Normally the rudder trim was set to the right to allow for engine torque but with significant drag to the right caused by the drogue, it was better to set the rudder trim to neutral. In cruise the drag of the drogue required almost full left rudder trim to compensate. A power setting of 58 inches manifold pressure was sufficient for take off; the aircraft being light with no ammunition or bombs aboard. After the rendezvous over the bombing range at Rattlesnake Island 10 miles from the Townsville coastline, the Lincoln and Mustang would fly in open formation 500 yards apart. The Mustang would then accelerate and the Lincoln gunners would open fire at the moving drogue.

Scheduled for a gunnery exercise the next day, a Lincoln mid upper gunner approached me over a beer in the Sergeant's Mess to discuss tactics. He had been an air gunner on Halifax bombers over Europe during the war and this being his last trip before retiring from the RAAF he was keen to break the squadron record for hits on the target drogue.

It would make his task easier, he said - if I could position the drogue close to the muzzles of his twin cannons. By this he meant a formation spacing of 100 yards instead of the usual 500 yards. Now Blind Freddy couldn't miss the target at that close range, but a few free beers convinced me that I could indeed help out an old airman achieve his ambition.

The next morning after the guns on the Lincoln were loaded, cannon shells and machine gun bullets were tipped with coloured paint. If the bullets hit the target coloured marks would appear show up where they passed through and as each gunner knew the colour of his ammunition, several gunners could blaze away at the target at the same time. When the ammunition was used up, the Mustang would return to Townsville and jettison the drogue on the runway. The bullet holes and their colour would be checked and scores allotted to each gunner.

By the time the Mustang was airborne with the drogue in tow, the Lincoln was already circling the gunnery range at 160 knots and 5000 ft. Within a few minutes I was in position several hundred yards off the starboard wing tip of the Lincoln. At the same time, the Lincoln gunners reported their guns were armed, their turrets swivelling to track the drogue 100 yards behind me. The Mustang is very sensitive in yaw to power changes and with the heavy pull of the drogue and cable on the right wing, plus throttle jockeying to maintain formation, I was forced to continually adjust the rudder trim which was already full scale left.

As agreed over beers the night before, I slid the Mustang in close until I could clearly see the faces of the rear and top gunners looking at me over the barrels of their guns. The top gunner with the two 20mm cannons gave me a sly thumbs up, and with gloved hand motioned me to come closer. I shook my head indicating that 100 yards range was already stretching the friendship!

Now the time had come to draw ahead until the drogue was abeam of the Lincoln. All I had to do was position 100 yards ahead and fly straight and level while looking over my left shoulder to keep the bomber in sight. This was relatively easy when at 500 yards range, but was literally a pain in the neck now.

The Lincoln pilot ordered firing to commence and all guns opened up. One minute later firing ceased and I was ordered to return to base to drop the drogue on the runway. I had just pulled up and away from the Lincoln when the pilot relayed a request from the mid upper gunner for one more pass. One of his guns had jammed and after clearing the stoppage he had a few more rounds remaining. This was to be his last shot at the record before he ran out of ammunition.

This was no problem, and I swung around behind the Lincoln to repeat the exercise. The Lincoln pilot was in on the plot, and allowed me to sneak in closer than usual. This would ensure that the old gunner would get certain hits, which if the record was broken would surely bring its own reward of free grog in the Sergeant's Mess that night. From 50 yards off the Lincoln’s wingtip I drew ahead allowing the drogue to settle directly abeam the big bomber and its gun happy crew. The Lincoln pilot now flew formation on my aircraft as I was unable to get a clear view of the aircraft behind my left shoulder. The yellow drogue was already riddled with holes, and bullet damaged pieces of fabric snapped in the slipstream.

I had just made one last adjustment to the rudder trim when the Lincoln pilot ordered the gunner to open fire. The noise of the Mustang's Rolls Royce engine drowned out the heavy banging of the twin cannons, but a second later I had the fright of my life when the Mustang skidded full scale left into half a barrel roll. Instinctively I hauled back on the stick to get well above the Lincoln, and squawked over the radio that some idiot had shot away my rudder.

After resuming level flight clear of the Lincoln I gingerly wound off yards of rudder trim until the Mustang was in balanced flight. A glance at the starboard wing showed 100 yards of whipping steel cable, but no drogue. The wire was a real danger, so I quickly jettisoned it into the sea.

Behind me, the Lincoln crew had seen the drogue shot away, and nearly wet themselves with laughter at the sight of the Mustang corkscrewing around the sky. The mid upper gunner, however, was most unhappy at the loss of the drogue and with it any proof of the accuracy of his shots. From point blank range, the cannon shells had literally blasted the drogue to pieces. One shell had cleanly severed the towing cable, releasing the drogue to flutter into the sea. With full rudder trim applied and my feet resting only lightly on the pedals, the lack of compensating drag from the missing drogue had caused the Mustang to take up an uncontrolled hard skid. This converted swiftly into roll towards the Lincoln before I could correct it.

That night, his colleagues in the Sergeants Mess unmercifully ragged the old gunner. There was no doubt that he had scored many hits with his shells, but he would never be able to prove it. I was carpeted by the Commanding Officer for flying too close to the Lincoln for safety and with not a leg to stand on was placed on Orderly Sergeant duties for a week as punishment for my lack of airmanship.

Soon after, Mustangs were phased out of squadron service to be replaced by Vampires. Orders came through to return 113 to storage somewhere in NSW. The Commanding Officer did his best to convince Headquarters that for the prestige of the RAAF in North Queensland, the aircraft should remain with the squadron. He had flown Spitfires during the war, and enjoyed nothing more than to get out of the office, throw on a parachute and do aerobatics in 113 plus a little low flying of course. The decision by Top Brass was final, and after long term storage A68-113 was finally sold to civilian interests where over the years it changed hands several times. The last owner was a British racing car driver who purchased the aircraft in 1962. Now registered as G-ARUK the Mustang was to be used to break the Australia to England speed record for a single engine aircraft.

On 12th April 1962, the Mustang departed Moorabbin for Bankstown for radio modifications prior to the record breaking attempt. I was living in Melbourne at the time and heard a news flash on the local radio station that an aircraft had crashed at Kallista in the Dandenong Ranges. I drove towards the area, passing an ambulance coming from the accident scene.

Rounding a curve in low mist and drizzly rain, I came across the still smouldering wreckage of a red and black painted aeroplane. I had seen enough aircraft crashes during the war to know that this one had gone in at high speed. The tail was scorched, but recognizable as belonging to a Mustang. I felt an overwhelming sadness at the death of a pilot and this once beautiful machine. At that stage I had no idea of the past history of that particular crashed aircraft.

Many years later I decided to write a story about flying old A68-113 and rang a friend of mine who was an aviation historian. I told him of the fun I had throwing this beautiful aircraft all over the Townsville skies and did he happen know where it was now?

Over the telephone I heard him turning the pages of a book. Sorry to tell you this, he said...but a British racing car driver bought A68-113 in 1962. He was on his way to Bankstown, when he flew into cloud near the village of Kallista in Dandenong Ranges....

He never came out the other side.
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Old 26th Jul 2020, 07:06
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https://aviation-safety.net/wikibase/139261
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Old 26th Jul 2020, 07:28
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Ron Flockhart was the pilot.
British Racing Car driver.
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Old 26th Jul 2020, 07:30
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The accident is also covered in Safety Digest No 34 page 14. Keep them coming Centaurus.

https://www.atsb.gov.au/media/5774731/asd_34_jun_63.pdf

Last edited by Frontal Lobotomy; 26th Jul 2020 at 07:48. Reason: Add link
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