Night Flying Training
(reprinted from the 15 January 1942 issue of The Fingal Observer)
The Editor of our excellent FINGAL OBSERVER requested an informal article on the subject of night flying training. After evading his eagle eye for some months, we were finally cornered and told to produce—or else. The following is fresh off the production line.
To begin with, It should be pointed out that to a well-trained pilot night flying is no more difficult than day flying. To be sure, there is the added factor of darkness but with sound basic training and the proper psychological approach night flying is shorn of its seeming deep and dark mysteries.
For a commercial concern, night flying is essential to compete with rival concerns in the 24-hour carriage of passengers and mail; in time of peace, it is most useful to the service pilot caught out after darkness falls; in time of war, it is vital that as many service pilots as possible be trained in night flying, for carrying out offensive and defensive duties and also the many present forms of night training. A combatant air force which cannot operate and train by night is through before the first throttle is opened.
All service night flying training is carried out according to the standard laid down. There are many minor variations therefrom to suit local conditions at various stations. In view of this, the system in force at Fingal will be used as an example.
Before a pilot is allowed to night fly at this Station, he first attends lecture during which station night flying orders and procedure are read over, explained and discussed. He must have completed a minimum of 10 hours’ instrument flying in the Link Trainer, covering the basic instrument flying course. He must complete 2 hours’ actual instrument flying in the air. During this 2 hours, accompanied by a safety pilot, be must demonstrate his ability to take off by instruments alone without outside vision and without assistance from the safety pilot. He then must climb to a safe height, circle the aerodrome and turn over control to the safety pilot after commencing the glide in to a landing. Finally, he is required to watch an actual night’s flying from the ground to familiarise himself thoroughly with the procedure.
Having completed the above preliminary training satisfactorily, our pilot is now ready to commence actual night flying. There are two methods used at this Station.
A pilot who is thoroughly experienced by day on the Battle aircraft is sent off solo on a clear night just before dusk, with all night flying lights lit on the aerodrome. He practices take-offs and landings through the half-light of the dusk period and imperceptibly progresses with the coming of darkness into actual night flying. In the case of a pilot not so experienced, he is first taken up in a dual control trainer. After approximately 40 minutes, he is sent off alone to practice. Finally, after about 2 hours’ practice he is sent off solo in the Battle. In all cases, 5 hours’ solo night practice must be completed before pilots may carry crew or trainees on night exercises.
It may be of interest to take a night training flight together. We taxi out slowly to the take-off position, guided by red and green lanterns placed at intervals along the left and right sides of the runway. On our one side are the brightly lighted hangars, on the other the long line of flares flicker across the aerodrome, marking the runway to be used. The glow of the engine exhaust flares up and diminishes under the flame covers on either side of the nose as we open and close the throttle. Overhead a bright canopy of stars can be seen. It is a lovely night, clear as a bell, with excellent visibility and a half moon to rise later.
We taxi on out to the taxiing post, a triangle of red, white and green lights, where we stop for a moment for a last cockpit check. Everything is in order, so we signal with our lights to the aerodrome control officer for permission to take off —one long flash, one short, one long — our aircraft letter for the night. Immediately out of the darkness comes an answering light in green, giving us permission to go— one long flash, one short, one long.
As we move on around the taxiing post we turn and head down directly between the long line of smoke-tipped flares flickering on either side of the runway. Beyond the last flare it is very dark. We open the throttle and after a first violent yellow flash the exhausts settle down to a cold blue flame. The tail comes up and we keep direction by locking out straight ahead over the long, flat nose. It is very much like driving a car down a well-lighted street. We pass the red lanterns showing the half-way mark down the runway and then we are airborne. We immediately raise the undercarriage, throttle back and go on to instruments. On either side, however, so many lights from the ground shine bright and clear into the cockpit that a climb on instruments is not necessary, so we come off instruments and fly by outside vision.
Climbing away from the Station with its many lights, we feel quite consciously superior to the less fortunate folks we have left below us. The lights of Fingal show up at once, then St. Thomas, T.T.S.— a startlingly bright square — and London well ahead. To the east and west the flashing beacons at Aylmer and Strathburn catch our eye. There are so many lights on the ground that it is almost like daytime flying. We turn towards the lake on the circuit and pick up the glow in the sky of Cleveland, Ashtabula and Erie, along the American shore. The lights of St. Thomas, intercepted by the myriad branches of its many trees, twinkle on and off like a million fire flies. Visibility 10. What a night to fly!
Continuing on around the aerodrome, we locate the lights of the other three aircraft in the air and throttle back slightly to position ourselves evenly on the circuit. The air is very smooth and by looking ‘straight up at the star-studded sky all sense of motion is lost and a feeling of being suspended in space prevails. The motor runs with unvarying smoothness, We think for & moment of the ground crews, whose hard and loyal work produces such comforting performance. .
We reach the position where we signal for permission to land and once again flash — a long, a short, a long. Again at once out of the darkness near the landing end of the flare-lit runway comes the answering green permission light — one long, one short, one long. We complete the circuit.
On the down wind leg we change to fine propeller pitch, lower the undercarriage and lower the flaps. At a steady airspeed of 85 miles per hour, losing 600 feet per minute height, we glide down at right angles to the landing runway, keeping constant watch on No. 1 flare beside which we know the aerodrome control officer is standing, ready to assist our landing by signaling with lights if we should be-too high or too low for a safe approach.
About 700 feet up we turn slowly and head directly down the centre of the flares marking each side of the landing runway, We still keep a steady 85 miles per hour, losing 500 feet per minute height. As we pick up the red lights marking the beginning of the safe landing area, we ease back on the stick slightly to decrease our speed and also our rate of descent and open the throttle slightly to allow for the changed conditions. We pass over the red lights, continue to ease the stick back and slowly close the throttle. The landing is so smooth we are unable to tell just when the wheels first make contact with the runway. There is a feeling that we must definitely do this more often, so we taxi around to try it again.