Chapter 7
No 4 Squadron
MY POSTING TO 4 SQUADRON was a huge disappointment because I had hoped one day to be given the helicopter squadron. There was another reason for my disappointment—No 4 Squadron was considered to be ‘a penal squadron’. The reason for this unfortunate reputation was obvious. The squadron operated the least inviting aircraft—Trojans and Provosts. Upon completion of OCU training, the best PTC pilots went to jet and transport squadrons and the balance were posted to 4 Squadron. For any young pilot coming off jets, the step down to piston aircraft was bad enough but, mistakenly, it appeared to them that their flying capabilities were in question because 4 Squadron’s flight commanders were senior instructors.
When I reported to Air Staff for briefing, DG Ops, Group Captain Dicky Bradshaw, congratulated me before passing me on to D Ops, Wing Commander Sandy Mutch, for a detailed briefing. I could not see the point in being congratulated for what I perceived to be a low-grade posting until Sandy’s briefing helped me see my situation in a better light.
Officers returning from Staff College had always been posted to Air HQ, but an increasing security threat required that 4 Squadron’s pilots become highly proficient in visual reconnaissance work. No serious preparation had been made to meet this need because there was nobody able to instruct pilots in the art. Since I was the only man in the force who had shown any interest in visual recce, and had a few successes to prove it, the Air Staff concluded that there was no alternative but to give me the squadron. Sandy Mutch also gave me the sop that I had been a particularly successful ‘A’ Flight commander on 7 Squadron and 4 Squadron was deeply in need of good leadership.
This was somewhat flattering, but I had serious doubts about being the right man for the job. There were two reasons for this. Firstly, my entire bush-fighting experience was on helicopters, which seemed to me to be so much more worthwhile and exciting than the fixed-wing activities I had observed in the field. Secondly, Flight Lieutenant Gordon Wright was the current ‘A’ Flight commander on 4 Squadron.
Gordon and I had been students together on No 10 SSU. Unlike me he was a natural sportsman who always struck me as possessing a stubborn and difficult nature. But then Gordon had reservations about working under me because, not knowing how often I had broken the rules, he mistakenly believed that I was a man who worked ‘strictly by the book’. He was man enough to let me know his concerns, making it easier for me to express how I viewed my new job and how I was counting on his support. Happily our fears were misplaced because, from the start, we clicked.
During my first days with 4 Squadron I felt distinctly uncomfortable. Having been away from Thornhill for a long while, I had lost touch with junior officers and technicians and knew only a handful of my men. To me there seemed tobe a depressed atmosphere, one totally lacking in spirit. This surprised me because, notwithstanding the ‘penal squadron’ tag, Squadron Leader Peter Cooke followed by Squadron Leader Peter McLurg had both led what I understood to be a cheerful unit. However, so far as I can remember the next in the line was Flight Lieutenant Peter Knobel, as acting OC, who lost allof 4 Squadron’s experienced pilots on various postings. Flight Lieutenant Gordon Wright, again in an acting OC position, followed Peter. Together with Rob Tasker and Bruce Collocott, Gordon had found himself in a particularly difficult position with a bunch of puppy pilots with no experience whatsoever.
The building in which the squadron was housed was set way back from the flight lines. This was unacceptable to me because the squadron building that had been vacated when the Canberras moved to Salisbury had been taken over by Station Equipment Section. My first priority was to have the situation reversed and within four weeks we were on the flight line in our freshly painted building. This in itself lifted spirits.
During my first month with 4 Squadron I was in need of a haircut and visited Mac the barber in Gwelo. Mac only knew one cut, which left me almost bald. Reaction to this was “Oh boy, we are in for a tough time with this boss!” It was certainly not the image I sought and I wondered how I might weld the personnel into a spirited group of men determined to make 4 Squadron great. Beryl gave me the lead on how to do this.
I instructed all squadron members, including wives and children, to gather for an open-air spit braai at a quiet spot at White Waters just twenty kilometres from Thornhill. When Beryl and I arrived there at around 10:00, we found a team of four technicians basting a whole impala carcass on a spit over deep coals. These guys had been working since first light and were already pretty plastered, pouring as much beer over the roasting carcass as down their throats.
About eighty people gathered under lovely trees with colourful chairs, umbrellas, shade tents and tables laden to bursting with food all beautifully set out. Children clambered over the domed granite hill against which we were gathered and everyone got to know everyone else. Beryl insisted on being called by her first name and not Mrs Petter-Bowyer, which endeared her to everyone. I acquired the name ‘Boss PB’ which I much preferred to being called ‘sir’. Thereafter the prefix ‘Boss’ was applied to a number of officers who were popular with junior pilots and technicians.
The roasted impala, superbly tasteful and tender, was wholly consumed but the rest of the food spread proved to be more than ravenous youngsters could manage. Beer and wine flowed freely and everyone enjoyed the best open-air party I can remember. When the squadron’s personnel reported for duty at 06:30 on Monday, I knew I was leading a totally changed team of men. There was sparkle in their faces, spring in their step and the mischievous spirit that continued beyond my three years with 4 Squadron had been unearthed.
My good friend Flight Lieutenant Rob Tasker with whom I had served as an instructor on 2 Squadron, was ‘B’ Flight Commander. He ran me through Provost re-familiarisation flights. Having lost the stomach for fuel vapour, spinning and aerobatics I felt really ill after the first two flights.
Gordon Wright conducted my conversion to the Trojan. This was an aircraft that was easy to handle in flight but one that tested one’s abilities when it came to engine handling and limit flying. The engine was too low- powered for the Trojan’s bulky airframe and thick high-lift wings, which severely limited payload. Increasing and reducing power was not a simple matter of opening and closing throttle control. With every change of power or engine rpm the fuel mixture had to be adjusted to prevent power loss. This meant that any change in engine setting necessitated rapid movements between throttle, pitch and mixture control, which took some time to master. I found no joy in flying the Trojan, preferring to fly a Provost at every opportunity. Gordon, however, enjoyed instructing on the Trojan because, of all our aircraft, it was the most challenging one to handle proficiently.
