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December 1940-April 1941 2. First from the Eyries In October of 1940 a message was sent from the British Air Ministry to all army and navy units requesting the names of personnel who wished to serve with the Royal Air Force and who had some previous flying experience—at least 500 hours as pilots. These persons, if accepted, were to be immediately transferred to the RAF to make up the heavy pilot losses suffered by Fighter Command during the Battle of Britain. Three of us, all Americans, in the Seaforth Highlanders, qualified more or less and so applied for transfer. We were Corporal Jimmy Crowley, Private Jack Doherty, and myself, Sergeant Dunn. I don't know about the other two guys, but I was fed up with the infantry and lugging that damned three-inch mortar all over the countryside. Here, now, was the chance I'd been waiting for to get into the air force, to fight the rest of the war sitting on my rear end in a cockpit seat. I really didn't have 500 hours flying time as a pilot—about 160 hours would be a more accurate figure. My pencil may have slipped a bit on the application form with my 160 looking sort of like 560. Anyway, my application was submitted, I passed the medical and mental exams, and on 13 December 1940 I was accepted by the Royal Air Force for flying duties and commissioned a pilot officer (2nd lieutenant ). I had written in the remarks section of my application form that it had been some time since I had last flown—about two years to be exact—and requested a brief refresher flying course. I figured that the RAF would send me off to an Elementary Flying Training School (EFTS) for a couple of months, where I could get back into the swing of things flying a DeHavilland D.H.82 Tiger Moth biplane trainer. Well, I figured wrong. The RAF needed pilots quickly, which was why the 500-hour requirement; they couldn't waste a lot of time on elementary flying refresher courses. First from the Eyries 31 I received Air Ministry orders on 6 February 1941 to report to No. 5 Service Flying Training School (SFTS) at RAF Station Tern Hill, near Market Drayton in Shropshire, where I would begin my training with No. 57 Course. After a delightful but devastating "going away party" at the Seaforth Sergeants' Mess, I proceeded somewhat bleary-eyed to London, where I purchased my new blue pilot officer's uniform and other kit items at "Moss Bros." Then, by railway train, I journeyed on to Tern Hill airfield. (Corporal Crowley's transfer was delayed a couple of weeks for some reason. Private Doherty failed the medical exams and, I was told later, was killed in action with the Seaforths during the Italian Campaign.) The advanced training aircraft assigned to No. 5 SFTS was the Miles "Master." The Master was a two-seater, low-wing monoplane, with a 700-hp Rolls Royce Kestrel XXX inline engine, a three-bladed adjustable pitch propeller (airscrew, as the English call a prop), a retractable landing gear (undercarriage), and full landing flaps. With a top speed of about 225 mph it was a hell of a lot "hotter" and much more advanced than anything I had ever flown before. Twenty-five Masters, built as single-seat fighter versions and armed with two .303-caliber machine guns, were employed as emergency augmentation fighters during the Battle of Britain; however, these fighter versions were now utilized as "solo" aircraft at Tern Hill. Another thing I should mention about our Miles Master aircraft: they were constructed with a plywood and fabric skin. The wingswere covered with plywood sheeting which, after a rain or period of damp weather, would actually wrinkle a bit from the wetness. Part of the pilot's checklist, under such conditions, was to waggle the ailerons so that the water collected inside that part of the wing could drip out. Then, as the sun's warmth began to dry the wing surfaces, the wrinkles in the plywood skin would gradually smooth out.This problem had no effects on the Master's flying capabilities, but it did cause the pilot to wonder if perhaps the soggy aircraft might not come unglued in flight. I needn't have worried so much about the SFTS assignment, because my instructor, Flying Officer Barker, who at age twenty-two was a Battle of...

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