RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CI, Issue 29994, 1 December 1962, Page 20

RANDOM REMINDER

“I SAY, CHAPS

Mitty-like day-dreams of performing deeds of valour are not uncommon among those who must be regarded, in all fairness, as the least likely to accomplish them, and there is no harm in the mild self-deceit So long as there is no attempt to persuade others that the cloak of adventure has not been merely clutched, but tossed carelessly over broad shoulders. Our office has been treated like a crewroom recently by an acquaintance who has just been for bis first instructional flight. He swaggers in, swinging his helmet (he drives a car) with lazy grace to tell us—again—all about it This man, whose only previous brush with death was a devil-may-care decision to cross on the amber early one morning, and who only

• year or two ago swapped his collection of British aircraft pictures for a pair of ear muffs, has had his life changed by two significant events. First, he recently came out of hospital, where he had, he alleges, set up a national record for the number of gall stones he produced; apparently his insides were like a gravel pit Second, he has been watching Biggies on TV. So he is more, now he has bad a flight than a hero. He is a wounded hero. His introduction to flying lasted something between OTO and 900 seconds. But his account of the venture makes the exploits of such as Richofen look pretty puny. We know very well what happened; the pilot took the plane up, flew it straight and level and in that monotone peculiar to flying instructors, said “You have

control" followed half a second later by his agonised yelp, “t have control—let go of everything.” But our acquaintance puts it differently. From hia own account of the proceedings, he was in masterful control from first to last, dazzling the instructor with his skill, demonstrating everything from the falling leaf to the Immelmann roll. He claims that when he had taxied in, the instructor wrung his hand. Our belief i» that the poor man was merely showing relief at his escape. But still it goes on, day by day, in our office, with tha conversation carrying increasing quantities of wizard show, and prang, and second dickeys. And the and is not yet in sight; he thinks he could fit himself for jets within a month. And ha is starting to grow a moustache.