A speculative discussion

Dr Ron Smith joined the British helicopter company Westland in 1975, working in Research Aerodynamics, remotely piloted helicopters, before becoming Head of Future Projects. He had a strong influence on the design of the NH90, and was involved in the assessment of the Apache for Britain. He also explored a variety of exotic future technologies for Westland. Here Ron looks at the role of helicopters in the attempted invasion of Ukraine.

1) General list of helicopter roles in the land battle

• Reconnaissance (enemy locations and apparent intent, location of air defences, command & control centres, logistics)
• Insertion of ground troops, including special forces
• Anti-armour operations, destruction of point and hardened targets
• Suppression of dispersed and soft-skinned targets (typically by rocket or cannon fire)
• Suppression of enemy air defence systems
• Attack of enemy command and control centres
• Electronic intelligence and jamming
• Casualty evacuation

2) Conjectural approach of attacking forces (Russian)

Assumptions – significant superiority of numbers, but faced with general resistance of both trained forces and population in general. The key objectives are to gain control of key cities, particularly Kiev, as the centre of political power.

Currently large bodies of Russian ground forces appear to be largely operating on roads. The expectation is that the defending forces will be preparing defensive positions and (potentially) destroying bridges to further restrict freedom of movement (e.g. across River Dnieper). It is not known whether defensive forces will deploy mines and or IEDs on major routes – not least because of the risk to refugee civil population.

Russia has the capability to deploy helicopters in all of the roles listed in Section 1, above. These reflect a generic approach to combined arms operations in relatively open country. There will, however, be additional challenges as the fight moves into urban environments.

During the approach, bombardment using long range artillery will be used to destroy key administrative buildings, infrastructure and any military installations, as well as to damage the morale of opposition forces and the population, in general. Cruise missiles (and/or special forces – potentially helicopter-inserted)  will be deployed against specific command centres and operating bases / airfields.

With Ukrainian forces being largely on the defensive, I’d anticipate that use of UAVs (armed or not) would be favoured by the Russians for reconnaissance, with helicopters providing a stand-off attack capability against any hardened defensive positions identified. Attack could be by laser-guided missile (potentially with UAVs or special forces providing laser designation) allowing the targets to be engaged from 3 – 5 km range (or more).

Rockets and/or cannon would be used against dispersed or less well-protected targets, particularly if air defence systems have already been suppressed. This mix, with ground infantry moving house to house, would probably be more effective than the use of heavy armour in an urban environment. Routes approaching (and within) cities are ‘canalised’, heavily constraining freedom of movement. In these areas, the destruction of lead units hampers the mobility of the rest of a heavy armour force.

Transport helicopters can be used to increase tempo and mobility, by dispersing troops to encircle locations, although the transports would need to maintain a certain distance and/or have had local air defence systems suppressed first. Also, any Western MANPADS of NLAW type systems (in direct attack mode) could represent a considerable threat, if available. Once on the ground, the troops would still need IFVs to support infantry operations and to suppress resistance.

3) Conjectural approach of defending forces (Ukranian)

The critical concern here will depend on the degree to which an operational helicopter fleet remains available by the time that the Russian net starts to close around the cities. A Russian objective would surely be to achieve significant attrition of Ukranian air assets (including helicopters) before beginning urban operations.

It may well be that helicopter operations would be more effective in the earlier approach phase when there are significant masses of enemy armour and logistic vehicles occupying main routes and suffering from restricted movement. Both armed UAVs and helicopter-launched ATGWs would be effective, subject to the considerable constraints of the large number of enemy vehicles, and the (likely) limited resources of the defensive forces.

Constraining enemy mobility by destroying river crossings and laying explosive charges under approach roads might be attempted with a view to attacking armoured columns at predetermined locations on the city approaches. Any NLAW equipped units might be used in these ambush efforts.

Transport helicopters might be deployed to insert special forces into the enemy rear areas to attack (for example) command and control centres and logistic support formations.

Similarly, NLAW or MANPADS squads could be moved around between locations allowing hit-and-run tactics to be used, with the helicopters acting as a ‘force multiplier’. The fact that both attackers and defenders operate the same types of helicopters may be advantageous in this instance.

Hush-Kit asked me for some thoughts on how a smaller nation should best organise its air defences when confronted with aggression from a numerically superior force. The issue was clearly raised in the context of the ongoing attempted invasion of Ukraine by Russia, but, for several reasons, I will not address the specifics of that conflict. Firstly, the situation is too fluid. Secondly, any discussion of ongoing operations without detailed knowledge of the dispositions and capabilities of respective forces would be foolish. And thirdly, any such discussion, with such knowledge, would risk breaching operational security and relevant security laws.

In my case, I don’t have the detailed knowledge required, and I don’t wish to inadvertently contribute to the ongoing information warfare around the Russia-Ukraine situation.

However, the question can still be considered in the abstract, but using real-world examples to illustrate the possible courses of action, and this piece will consider broader aspects than just air defence. I have identified five distinct possibilities, which I will identify as:

1. The Stand-alone model
2. The Strong Alliance model
3. The Weak Alliance model
4. The Non-military Deterrence model; and
5. The Hunker Down, Endure and Resist model

This article will provide an insight into the realities of these models, or more accurately, those realities as I perceive them. Along the way, I expect to upset pretty much everyone, and just in case I haven’t, I might also end this piece by considering Great Power approaches to Defence.

The Stand-alone Model

The model here is essentially derived, and extended from, the air defence of Great Britain, in the period from June 1940 – the retreat from Dunkirk, to December 1941, the entry of the USA into World War II.

In this period, the RAF faced a numerically superior Luftwaffe, with broadly similar technical capabilities. A mix of aircraft was available to the RAF, with a greater number of Hurricanes than Spitfires, and these faced a mix of bomber aircraft, and Messerschmitt 109 and 110 fighters and bomber escorts. Again, in general terms, the Spitfires were a match to the Bf 109s, and the Hurricanes could deal with the bombers and the Messerschmitt 110s.

The critical needs, for the out-numbered British, was to prevent invasion by retaining air superiority, while husbanding their resources of aircraft and pilots. The following precepts of the stand-alone air defence model reflect this:

1. Launch your aircraft only when you need to;
2. Alert your aircraft so that they can be positioned to meet the threat, preferably at a tactically advantageous altitude;
3. Seek to match aircraft against threats they can deal with – in our exemplar, Spitfires against fighters and Hurricanes against bombers;
4. Where possible recover and repair damaged aircraft, and rescue and return pilots to the fight.

The combined use of radar, ground observers, and telephone and radio reports enabled all this. Critically, information on enemy raids and RAF responses was brought together as time-stamped tracks in Fighter Control Centres, enabling a real-time appreciation to be gained of the ongoing air picture. This in turn allowed commanders to position fighters to respond directly to specific raids, as well as providing coordination with other assets such as ground-based anti-aircraft defences. This avoided wasted effort in random patrolling, and conserved airframes, engines and pilots, reserving these precious resources for air combat.

Today, we might refer to this approach as an integrated air Defence system, and we would add other components if possible. In particular, ground-based radars would be supplemented by Airborne Early Warning and Control systems; communications would be shared in real-time between AEW assets, fighters and ground systems using secure datalinks; and our fighter aircraft would carry a mix of long-range radar-guided missiles and shorter-range imaging infra-red weapons. In addition, and if possible, we would disperse our aircraft to hidden hardened positions, and, if possible, provide support for refuelling, re-arming and servicing in those hardened locations.

As an example of such an approach today, Sweden operates this type of integrated air defence system, using the relatively small and agile Gripen fighter, out-ranging potential adversaries with the Meteor Missile, and using the IRIS-T for any within visual range engagements. Independently developed technical solutions are available for AEW systems and ground-based radars, datalinks, and electronic combat systems, and this is important because reliance on third-party support systems in time of ongoing combat is never a good look. This approach is carried across into other branches of the Defence Forces, reducing external dependencies wherever possible.

The UK used to aspire to this capability, and, in an architectural sense, still achieves this for air defence. However, it does not have the same degree of self-sufficiency in the air domain as Sweden, or, perhaps France, and has not for many years. Almost all equipment is either co-produced across a number of Nations or sourced from overseas, including critical capabilities such as AEW&C, fighter and strike aircraft, and many other sensors and systems.

The Strong Alliance Model

Strong alliances are often cited as of great importance by the weaker parties in such alliances. Truly strong alliances, which are regarded as important by the stronger party, and where resources are committed and, perhaps, bloodshed for others, are, in my view, rather rare. But examples do exist. I suggest the relationship between the United States and Israel is such an alliance, even though it shares some asymmetric features which appear to be somewhat common to the other strong alliances I can identify, those between the US and several Pacific Nations, but excluding Taiwan.

What does the US get out of the relationship with Israel? An ability to shape affairs in the Middle East through a surrogate Nation representing democracy and a ‘rules-based’ order. Well, also having influence and presence in a region which has been a critical source of oil resources. The US also enjoys certain secondary advantages in domestic politics; Israel gets equipment, technology and a partner that appears willingly unquestioning about the treatment of Palestinians. So, it is not simply a military relationship, it is also deeply political.

But there is no doubt, that if you can swing it, being able to share in US technology, to be re-equipped in time of tension, to receive (some) US Intelligence products and so on is a great way of bolstering your defences if you are feeling edgy about your neighbours, and if you can position yourself as much more acceptable to the US than they are.

The US alliances in the Pacific are interesting. Essentially, they all follow the same model, and provide mutual Defence guarantees between the US and Japan, Australia, the Philippines, and Korea intended to ensure that should any of those Nations be attacked, the US will provide defence assistance, and should the US be attacked, the other parties would do their best to assist.

The price for this is the right for the US to maintain US defence facilities in those nations. There are clear benefits to the US in so doing, as this enables them to maintain a Defence presence and logistic chain across and around the Pacific, and there are significant benefits to the participating Nations, not just in the mutual Defence provisions, but also (at the time of their agreement) a greater sense of security from possible future Japanese expansionism.

Fast forward to today, and the concerns are about Chinese expansionism, the South China Sea and Taiwan. I have identified this as a strong alliance, but the recent Trumpist adventure in the US, combined with a historical reluctance from Democrat governments to get embroiled in foreign conflicts, is perhaps now causing some countries to question the willingness of the US to come to the party should aggression occur.

In a strong alliance model, the defence approach is essential to maintain enough capability, through your own assets, and your ally, assuming they have an ongoing Defence presence, to first deter, and then hold off any aggression until the US (or other strong ally) appears over the horizon with defence support. Would this work? Well, it has for Israel, but these relationships have not been tested in the Pacific.

The Weak Alliance Model

Continuing my theme of upsetting everyone, we will start with Taiwan. Taiwan used to be recognised as China by the US, but world realities have now changed, and the US recognised the People’s Republic of China, and has its diplomatic representation in Beijing. Along with this, it has abandoned the notion of ‘Two Chinas’, and maintains a deliberate diplomatic state of ambiguity regarding Taiwan. In reading this, readers should note the Chinese position that Taiwan remains a PRC province, albeit a recalcitrant one.

This certainly precludes the type of mutual defence agreement in place with other Pacific nations, but does not preclude the US from being the principal source of Defence materiel for Taiwan. Despite edginess regarding China’s stated intention to integrate Taiwan fully within the PRC, and despite assurances of support, provision of military equipment, and so on, there is no way this could be considered anything other than a weak alliance.

How do you defend Taiwan against the PRC, should they wish to fully integrate Taiwan into China? In my view, you have three assets, two of which are rather weak. The first resembles that of Britain in the stand-alone phase of the Second World War. As an island, defence against invasion must be a priority. Surface and sub-surface naval forces and coastal defences, supplemented by well-integrated Air Defence systems to deter, and prevent, or delay for as long as possible, airborne assault. And then hope for assistance from your friends – the US, and their friends, as the US would certainly look to Australia (who would actually have little to offer). You would also be looking, probably in vain, for assistance from the UN. Which would not be forthcoming, as China and Russia would veto any Resolutions calling for action to support Taiwan.

My second weak alliance is NATO. Current events are showing the impotence of NATO in taking meaningful action outside the boundaries of its member Nations. Partly, this is because the mutual defence provisions of NATO do not extend to the defence of non-NATO Nations. But partly, there is also a recognition that should NATO get involved, for example in seeking to enforce a no-fly zone, or even to try to stabilize an evacuation route for civilians, such acts would be interpreted as hostile by Russia.

This would then lead to a situation not unlike the First World War, where alliances between smaller Nations and the Great Powers transformed a regional conflict into a World-wide War. Suppose NATO, or possibly a single NATO member country, assists Ukraine – Russia is likely to declare this a hostile act and perhaps conduct a strike against one NATO country – then the whole of NATO, including the US, may be drawn in by mutual Defence provisions in Article 5 of the NATO Charter – and the apocalypse awaits.

In practice, any participation by the US would be dependent on Congressional approval and is thus not automatic. In addition, while an attack on one NATO member is considered an attack on them all, each member has the right to decide on its own course of action in response. While these provisions are appropriate, they do weaken the alliance somewhat, as the scale and scope of a NATO response is indeterminate and dependent on each Nation’s view of the situation.

A third weakened alliance is the position in which the UK now finds itself. Decades of collaborative defence programmes with EU countries, and a strong contribution to NATO, have encouraged a mutually cooperative approach, where UK defence capabilities are strongly dependent on systems and support coming from the US and across Europe, and the once strong UK defence industry is but a partner in major projects, rather than the lead.

However, Brexit has undoubtedly complicated both relationships and supply chains. I don’t propose to press this point further, because any crisis involving NATO would undoubtedly draw on the strong defence bonds between NATO countries.

Britain does have advantages and advanced capabilities in intelligence, and through those capabilities, is likely to have better access to US intelligence assets than most. It also has highly professional armed forces, although these have been under tight budgetary constraints for many years. I do wonder what freedom of action remains for the UK operating outside of a NATO or US-led coalition.

Defence in these circumstances? Start with Diplomacy. Maintain old friendships. Cultivate new ones. Deter, delay, obstruct and confuse. If conflict erupts, do the best you can with what you have, and seek support from your allies.

The Non-military Deterrence model

This is a very successful strategy, employed by two Nations, Switzerland, and the Cayman Islands.

It may be otherwise expressed as “Don’t touch us – we’ve got your money”.

The Hunker Down, Endure and Resist Model

This is an unpalatable option of last resort. But if you are unable to successfully counter foreign invasion, it is a proven strategy whereby even the most powerful Nations can eventually be persuaded to go away, through a mix of passive and active resistance.

Successful examples include Afghanistan, which has repeatedly forced the British to withdraw. And the Russians. And the Americans, complete with a large ‘coalition of the willing’.

This approach has also been successfully employed in Vietnam and in Iraq.

The US, Russia and China

The recent rapprochement between Russia and China has created a new dynamic.

The US approach of setting up alliances across strategic areas of interest, so that should conflict erupt, it will at least not touch on the US homeland, has been remarkably successful, but paradoxically is leading to a sense of disconnection and isolation. After all, if all military adventures are foreign adventures, why are we risking our boys’ lives?

Russia now appears to be entering on the full Resurgent Russia scenario, with the added bonus of having secured its South-Eastern boundary with China. Should the Ukraine adventure succeed, there is the possibility that Russia would then look to many of the states that were formerly part of the USSR. However, most of these are now NATO members. Recent events are likely to have greatly stiffened NATO resolve. They may be impotent in Ukraine, but any attack on a NATO state is likely to bring a rapid response. One can only hope that there would be no conflict, and no use of nuclear capabilities.

China is biding its time. When the dust settles on Ukraine, and perhaps particularly if tension keeps the focus on Europe for a bit, a move on Taiwan, and on the disputed areas of the South China Sea can be expected. The technical capability of Chinese forces is rising extremely rapidly, and China will be watching the US closely over the next decade.

China is also pursuing its Belt and Road initiative, a mechanism for strengthening commercial, diplomatic and industrial ties with many Nations, not just in the Pacific.

What about Australia?

As I am writing this in Australia, I should not miss the opportunity to cast doubt on the current Australian position. In the approach to an election, the least competent Australian administration in decades is playing the National Security card in an attempt to impress its electoral base. The focus will be to further constrain migration from unacceptable countries (those with non-white skins, because they might be terrorists), and to continue the process of offending our largest trading partner, China.

The AUKUS partnership around the provision of nuclear submarines to Australia is at least 20 years too late to have the desired effect, which is presumably to make China pay attention to Australia as a possible threat. Had AUKUS been implemented 20 years ago, such submarines might just about be in Service. But implemented now, the probable result will be a Chinese attempt to further damage the Australian economy over the next 20 years, by seeking alternate sources for its iron ore and coal.

From a Chinese perspective, with a bit of luck, ongoing climate change, and the loss of resources from a one-horse economy, will then ensure the Australian Defence force remains an insignificant player on the world stage.

The Australian Government, however, imagines AUKUS as an enduring means of strengthening ties with the US and the UK, perhaps not noticing that when Australia has lost markets in China, they have generally been replaced as suppliers by the US.

– Jim Smith

The best fighter of the Second World War started life as an insurance policy. In late 1940 Grumman was asked to develop an upgrade of the F4-F Wildcat with a 1600hp Twin Cyclone engine as an interim measure due to ‘issues’ with Vought’s XF4U-1 that would require considerable work to resolve. Instead, Bob Hall proposed a new design using knowledge gained from talking to pilots who had fought in the Battle of Britain. This would become the F6F Hellcat, or Gannet if you’re in the niche of Fleet Air Arm pilots to fly it before the beginning of 1944 when sanity prevailed. The USN gave approval for work to start on 30 June 1941, the first prototype flew just under a year later with a 1600hp Wright Cyclone, the first aircraft equipped with a 2000hp Pratt & Whitney Double Wasp flew a month later and demonstrated a 30mph speed advantage over a recently captured Mitsubishi Zero. The first production F6F-3 flew in October of 1942 with deliveries commencing shortly afterwards. In the next two years, 11,000 of a final total of 12,275 Hellcats were built by Grumman’s Bethpage factory. [1] As an indication of quite how right the Hellcat’s design was there were only two production versions, the -3 and the -5 which featured another 200hp, a flat windscreen integrating the armoured glass, and a few other minor modifications. In fact, only two airframes seem to have not been built as -3 or -5s. Which makes Supermarine look like they didn’t know what they were doing with their twenty-odd attempts at getting the Spitfire ‘right’.

As a fighter the Hellcat’s main opponent was the aforementioned Zero, against which it was faster, better armed, and better armoured. The majority of Hellcats had six 0.50 calibre machine guns with 400 rounds per gun providing a balance of bullet mass with rate of fire. A more elegant solution than the mix of small calibre guns and large calibre cannon used by many European fighters it also had the advantage of simplifying the logistics tail. This is an important consideration for any aircraft, but especially one that’s going to be operating half a world away while being supplied by a chain of ships. The six guns allowed the Hellcat to achieve a borderline terrifying kill rate against aircraft of the Japanese Navy and Army with claims as high as 13:1 against the Mitsubishi Zero. Nor did it fair badly in the European theatre shooting down two Me-109s, two He-115, and an FW-190 for one loss with the FAA while the USN’s Hellcats also managed to shoot down three He-111s, three Ju-52, a Ju-88, and a Do-217 during the invasion of Southern France. In the latter case while operating off tiny Escort Carriers and calling fall of shot for naval gunfire. [2] A further 5215 aircraft fell to the Hellcat in the Indian and Pacific theatres.

In addition to operating as a fighter the -5 Hellcats could carry six 5” rockets or up to 4000lb of bombs enabling it to carry out attack operations, with an equivalent payload to the Curtiss Helldiver making the latter somewhat redundant. Which was probably a relief to the Helldiver crews. Both Marks of Hellcat also saw service as Night Fighters fitted with the AN/APS-4 or -6 radar in a pod on the starboard outer wing. A reconnaissance version of the F6F-5 was produced by the simple expedient of placing windows on the port and starboard sides of the fuselage just aft of the wing root. If that’s not multi-role enough for you the East Indies Fleet also used Hellcats in a mine-hunting role off Penang. Aircraft being directed by their carrier’s fighter controllers to conduct visual sweeps of set areas. [3] Try doing that in a Bf 109 or, well pretty much anything with an inline engine if you want to actually see the mines.

Grumman’s factory gained a reputation as the ‘Ironworks’ due to the strength of its aircraft. In an attempt to demonstrate why this moniker was deserved an F6F-5P of VF-8 flying from the Bunker Hill carrier was tasked to obtain photos of a headquarters and training base in the Marianas Islands. After being hit by radar laid anti-aircraft fire at 4000’ the Hellcat was missing rudder trim and the port stabiliser and elevator. Ignoring these minor flesh wounds, the pilot, Lt Edward ‘Whitey’ Feightner, flew down the bases’ runway at low-level to get photos of the guns that had just hit him. Taking umbrage, they managed to hit his aircraft in the port wing as he was making his egress. After the smoke, flames, and a small explosion cleared our intrepid aviator discovered his port wing was missing from the wing fold outwards aft of the main spar. The Hellcat was still controllable though if the speed was kept between 90 and 105kts. With the Bunker Hill visible about 40 miles ahead and with nothing better to do he headed towards it. Although the port main gear was, understandably, absent the rest of the undercarriage was available and after being given the option to land on ‘Whitey’ took it, mindful of the hard-earned photo-intelligence he’d acquired. Not only was no further damage incurred during the landing but the aircraft itself was repaired and within 10 days was back on the flight schedule. [4] Try doing that in a P-51.

Importantly for a naval fighter the Hellcat was relatively easy to land on a carrier. This was due to the large wing, which allowed it to outturn a Bf-109, and the well-placed cockpit raised up above the fuselage fuel tank. Which explains its much better landing accident record than say the Corsair or Seafire which helpfully had the pilot so far back he was unable to see the ship on finals. As an illustration during Operation ICEBERG II off the island of Sakishima Gun to the carriers of the British Pacific Fleet lost 7% of their original allocation of Hellcats to landing accidents, versus 21% of the Corsairs, and a trifling 70% of the Seafires. [5] It probably helped that Grumman designed the big cat to be literally dropped onto the deck from 20’. General competence at landing may not be the kind of thing that gets the pulse racing, but to be a great fighter it’s useful if you can make more than a handful of sorties before being written off. It’s also worth pointing out that although the similarly engined Corsair is frequently cited as being faster than the Hellcat by around 20 knots when Grumman were loaned one of Vought’s aircraft to study this turned-out not to be the case. Test pilot Corky Meyer flew multiple runs in formation with the Corsair, both aircraft using the same engine settings. Above 5000’ they were broadly stabilised against each other and maintained formation. The Corsair however indicated it was going 20 knots faster. After a bit of work on the pitot static system so did the Hellcat. [6]

When it comes to the point of a fighter, shooting down enemy aircraft, the Hellcat was clearly superior to the Corsair with 5223 kills to 2140. Some may claim the Spitfire as the highest-scoring Allied fighter of WW2, but then they built 20000 odd of them in a desperate attempt to stay relevant. In fact, the Hellcat scored 0.42 kills per airframe built while the Spitfire only managed 0.31 less than the oft-forgot Hurricane.

Aircraft Built-Kills Ratio

Hellcats then were more likely to have shot something down, better at surviving damage, better at landing, and more versatile than any other fighter of WW2. At the same time this was all achieved with only two basic Marks all of which were built in one factory. Like all great performers, Grumman also knew to leave them wanting more so as the war drew to a close so did Hellcat production

[1] Aeroplane Database – Grumman F6F Hellcat, Thomas Cleaver, Aeroplane Dec 2021
[2] “When Hellcats Took the Fight to the Luftwaffe.” Historynet – Accessed 2/28/2022. https://www.historynet.com/when-hellcats-took-the-fight-to-the-luftwaffe/
[3] WO 203/4782, Report of Proceedings – Operation Livery, The National Archives, 1945
[4] Wings of Gold, R Adm Feightner, Summer 2005
[5] The Forgotten Fleet, John Winton, 1969
[6] Hellcat vs Corsair, Corky Meyer, Flight Journal, Annual 2020

Bing Chandler is a former Lynx Observer and current Wildcat Air Safety Officer. He has a Red Bubble store riddled with aircraft. It will shortly include a Hellcat once the tricky colouring-in stage is finished.

The Spitfire was the greatest fighter of the Second World War, and indeed ever.

By Edward Rippeth

The case is simple. It was born a winner back in 1936, and kept winning, even when all else was going wrong, and winning and winning. Dunkirk, Battle of Britain, Malta, North Africa, Australia, Burma, Sicily, Italy, Normandy, the crumbling Reich, even the final days over Japan, all ended up with the Spitfire triumphant.

At Dunkirk, with Britain facing absolute disaster, Spitfires were deployed in significant numbers for the first time. Despite facing the greatest air force ever seen at that time, hell-bent on destroying our army, navy (and our pleasure cruisers), Spitfires faced them down and shot them down, doing enough to enable the ‘miracle’ of evacuating 338,000 men – in the hands of legends like Al Deere, Bob Stanford Tuck and Sailor Malan.

Just around the corner was the Battle of Britain. Yes, there was radar, and yes, there were Hurricanes, but when the Luftwaffe wondered what was going wrong, Spitfires were uppermost in their thoughts. Yes, Hurricanes were more numerous and shot down more planes, but it was the Spitfire they really feared – because it abused the Luftwaffe pilot’s sense of entitlement, knocked them off their perch, and showed they could be beaten. It led to Spitfire snobbery with pilots refusing to accept the lesser Hurricane had shot them down, and sparked a trend for massive overclaiming of Spitfires by Luftwaffe pilots – by a factor of four or five in the first three years of the war. In the greatest and most consequential air battle of all time, the Spitfire was the star.

The flipside, of course, was that when the Spitfire wasn’t there, Britain tended to lose. France, Greece, Crete, Malaya, Singapore, Burma, the early desert campaign – all bravely contested by Hurricanes, Gladiators, P-40s, not to mention Brewster Buffalos, Blochs, Moranes, Curtiss Hawks etc etc. One disaster after another as the Bf 109s, Zeros and Oscars reigned supreme. It needed a very special fighter to turn this around. And that fighter was the Spitfire, brilliantly in Malta, then North Africa, then even in Burma. After two years of hideous beatings at the hands of an apparently invincible Japanese foe, General Slim worked out the tactics of victory involved his troops standing fast during encirclement, and airdrops. The only problem being that the Japanese still dominated the skies, with Nakajima Oscars running circles around the RAF’s Hurricanes and Buffaloes. Two newly introduced squadrons of the new Mark VIIIs and several Mark Vs took just three days to maul and remove the IJA from the skies during the battle of the Admin Box. Victory followed as Dakotas were able to make their supply drops unhindered. The course of the war in the East was irrevocably turned.

Ah, but it didn’t get as many kills as the P-51 Mustang or the Hellcat? Actually, it did. It’s just nobody counted them – until now. But it was too short-ranged? Indeed it was, for a fighter escort. But range and big fuel capacity was of no use in times of enemy air superiority – it needed to be up to altitude, manoeuvrable and fast, which is why it was the only fighter in the world in 1942 which could have saved Malta. But the Focke-Wulf Fw1 90 was better? For several months yes it was, but along came the Spitfire IX and the Spitfire was back on top, and thereafter it was a fully competitive front-line fighter until the war’s end. The constant ability to develop the Spitfire’s airframe and upgrade with more powerful versions of the Merlin engine and ultimately the Griffon through the war meant the last aces of the war in Europe, such as Ian Ponsford (who scored six kills in the last eleven days of April 1945), were piloting the superb Mark XIV.

But it wasn’t very good at ground attack? The Spitfire did a decent and underrated job, but that’s not the main point of a fighter.

But the Seafire? Certainly, it had a lot of problems landing on heaving decks with the narrow and fragile undercarriage, but it was able to get among kamikazes like no other aircraft, and ended up grabbing seven kills in the last dogfight of the war on August 15^th – and if the war had gone on, it had the performance to take on Japan’s superb new fighters for home defence, the Ki-84 and Ki-100, which had notably roughed up a squadron of Hellcats in one of its encounters. And of course the Seafire would be developed into the Seafire Mk 47, one of the fastest piston-engined fighters of all time which served off aircraft carriers until the late 1950s.

It didn’t just look the part – it looked beautiful. It captured people’s imagination. It even captured the Luftwaffe’s imaginations. It made Adolf Galland green with envy. And it won the war. That’s why the Spitfire is the greatest fighter of World War 2.

Edward Rippet

Head of Primary Publishing, International schools
Cambridge University Press

In the first of a series of articles presenting cases for the best fighter aircraft of World War II, we start with Jim Smith’s case for the Messerchmitt Bf 109. Let us know your thoughts in the comments section below.

The Messerschmitt Bf 109 was the greatest fighter of the Second World War.

A simple, bold statement, which many will question, based on their knowledge that other aircraft, in particular variants, were superior to particular variants of the Bf 109.

Nevertheless, if we look at the big picture, of duration in service, of numbers built, and of victories claimed, there can be little doubt that the Bf 109 deserves this accolade.

Firstly, the aircraft design ensured its initial success and immediate superiority. Messerschmitt combined all the available technologies of 1934 to design a stressed-skin, retractable undercarriage fighter with the smallest and lightest possible airframe, around the most powerful available engine. Sharing many of these features with its great rival, the Spitfire, Messerschmitt took advantage of wing leading edge slots, and slotted flaps to reduce wing size without compromising landing speed and controllability at low speeds.

The aircraft enjoyed an initial operational period of superiority over all its competitors, with no match in combat in Spain, or in the initial campaigns of the Second World War in Poland and in France, where its superiority over the Hurricane was evident. Air combat with its British match, the Spitfire, did not occur until May 1940, during the evacuation of Dunkirk.

Contemporary comparisons of the Bf 109E with the Mk 1 Spitfire showed these aircraft to be closely competitive in air combat, with the Spitfire offering greater manoeuvrability due to its lower wing loading, and the Messerschmitt slightly higher speed, a higher climb rate up to 20,000 ft, and the ability to disengage from air combat at will by diving away, thanks to its fuel-injected engine.

Secondly, continuous development kept the Bf 109 competitive with its opponents in the Western Theatre, and superior to its opposition in North Africa, and on the Eastern Front, at least until late in the war. Naturally, both the Spitfire and Messerschmitt were rapidly developed, each in an effort to out-perform their dangerous opponent, and this competitive development resulted in the Spitfire V, with two-stage supercharging, and cannon armament, appearing in 1941. The Bf 109 received extensive aerodynamic refinements and engine development, resulting in the Bf 109F, which came into service at about the same time as the Spitfire V.

Significant improvements to the Bf 109F included refinements to its cooling system, lowering drag, and improvements to flaps, slats and ailerons. The armament was revised to remove the wing-mounted cannon in favour of an engine mounted 20 mm cannon, and two fuselage-mounted 7.9mm machine guns. These changes improved both the manoeuvrability and climb rate of the aircraft, and later models incorporated Nitrous Oxide injection to increase power, and a variety of armament modifications.

The opening of hostilities against the Soviet Union in June 1941 involved large numbers of Bf 109E and Bf 109F aircraft, and resulted in very high numbers of kills of Soviet aircraft. Soviet losses by midday on the second day of the Operation Barbarossa campaign amounted to 1200 aircraft, of which slightly more than 800 were destroyed on the ground. The campaign on the Eastern Front presented the opportunity for experienced fighter pilots, flying the Bf 109 in conditions of air superiority against relatively poorly equipped and trained opposition, to score enormous numbers of kills.

This constitutes the third element in the case for the Bf 109 being the greatest fighter of the Second World War, and is illustrated by some compelling statistics. The top 3 fighter pilots of WW2, all flying Bf 109s on the Eastern Front, claimed a total of 928 victories, 352 falling to Erich Hartmann, 301 to Gerhard Barkhorn, and 275 to Günter Rall. In North Africa, Hans-Joachim Marseille accounted for 158 allied aircraft, and no less than 105 Bf 109 pilots claimed more than 100 aircraft kills.

Development of the Bf 109 continued, with the more powerful, heavier and faster Bf 109G, powered by the Daimler-Benz DB 605 engine. The Bf 109G was substantially heavier than earlier models, though, and the increased weight did impact on stability and control, handling qualities and manoeuvrability. Nonetheless, the Bf 109G became the most produced version of the aircraft and, when it entered service in April 1942, was superior to the Spitfire V, particularly when using Nitrous-oxide (GM-1) boost, which was fitted as standard.

While gradually supplemented, by the FW 190 in the West, large numbers of Bf 109G continued to serve on the Eastern and other fronts, and, from mid-1943, increasing use was made of the type as a reconnaissance aircraft, for ground attack, and as a night fighter.

Appearance of the Bf 109F and G, coupled with the entry to service of the Focke-Wulf 190, added urgency to the development of the Spitfire Mk IX, powered by the two-speed, two-stage supercharged Merlin 60, and this aircraft became operational with the RAF in July 1942.

The advent of the Spitfire IX, and from 1944, the P-51 Mustang, Griffon-powered Spitfire variants, and, in the East, the Lavochkin La-7 and Yak-3, placed the Bf 109 in a difficult position. Nevertheless, large numbers of aircraft continued to serve with the Luftwaffe, with the focus of their operations gradually shifting towards homeland defence as Allied forces advanced, following their successes in North Africa, in the invasion of France and Italy, and Soviet advances on the Eastern Front.

The final few months of the war essentially left the Luftwaffe in a defensive situation, with the Messerschmitt 109 now lacking performance against the best of the Allied fighters, and advanced aircraft like the Messerschmitt 262 only available in small numbers. All of the available fighters, principally Bf 109s and Focke-Wulf Fw 190s, were badly affected by logistical issues, particularly shortages of fuel and spare parts.

The fourth and final element of the case for the Bf 109 being the greatest fighter of the Second World War rests simply on the number built and its longevity in service. With continuous development from design initiation in 1934, through innumerable variations up to the end of the conflict in Europe, and beyond, the Bf 109 demonstrated both adaptability and longevity. Post-war variants came from Czechoslovakia with the Avia S-99 and developments, and from Spain, where the Hispano HA 1109 and ultimately the HA 1112 Buchon remained operational up to the end of 1965.

A total of 33,984 Messerschmitt Bf 109 were built, with additional production of about 600 Avia S-99/199 aircraft in Czechoslovakia, and a further 200 or so Hispano 1112 aircraft in Spain.  Nearly 14,000 Bf 109G were manufactured in 1944 alone, and overall, Bf 109 production amounted to about a quarter of all aircraft built for the Luftwaffe. By comparison, production of the Spitfire, which also occurred throughout the conflict, amounted to 22,759 airframes.

The Bf 109 was the greatest fighter of the Second World War because:

• Its advanced design resulted in periods of superiority over its opponents, particularly for early variants in the Spanish Civil War, and for the Bf 109E, which was superior to all opposition up to May 1940, from which time the Spitfire 1 achieved broad parity with the Bf 109E;
• The aerodynamic and engine improvements introduced with the Bf 109F gave that aircraft superiority over the Spitfire V, over Allied fighters in the early part of the North Africa campaign, and over Soviet aircraft in the first year of the campaign on the Eastern Front;
• The number of victories claimed by Bf 109 pilots far exceeds the numbers achieved by pilots of any other aircraft, largely due to the superiority enjoyed by Luftwaffe pilots over Soviet aircraft and pilots on the Eastern Front, but also due to the aircraft’s successes in other Theatres;
• The number of aircraft produced and fielded exceeded that of all other military aircraft, with the exception of the Ilyushin Il 2 armoured attack aircraft. The Bf 109, like the Spitfire, was manufactured from before WW2 through to the end of hostilities and beyond. The final related version, the Merlin-engined Buchon, first flew in 1954, and was operational until the end of 1965, 30 years after the prototype Bf 109’s first flight.

Sources:

Warplanes of the Third Reich, William Green, 1970

Warplanes of the Second World War – Fighters Vol 1 & 2, William Green, 1960

Wings of Fame Volume 4: Messerschmitt Bf 109 early variants, David Donald, 1996

Wings of Fame Volume 11: Messerschmitt Bf 109: the later variants, David Donald, 1998

Wikipedia

The P-51 Mustang‘s good looks and hygienically clean aerodynamics were often callously mistreated at the hands of wayward engineers and assorted warmongers. We asked Matthew Willis, author of ‘Mustang, The Untold Story‘, to introduce us to the 10 weirdest Mustangs.

10. RAF ground attack variant

What do you do when you’re the RAF and you find yourself in receipt of “undoubtedly the best American fighter to have reached this country”? Why try to turn it into a mud-mover of course. The Mustang was an aircraft with a wing of unparalleled aerodynamic efficiency, which evidently so angered Their Airships that they tried to ruin it with a pair of 40mm cannon in ungainly pods or a battery of 3in rocket projectiles and associated ironmongery with more drag than Santa Pod. To be fair, the early Mustang had a superlative low-level performance which made it attractive as an attack aircraft, but the RAF’s test programme into a ‘universal wing’ plumbed for every kind of ordnance imaginable went further than most proposals.

9. US tank-obliterator

…Apart, that is, from North American Aviation themselves, who in their efforts to find a use for their new aircraft for a sceptical USAAF came up with numerous ideas involving plenty of pounds for air-to-ground. One of these became the A-36 dive-bomber (don’t call it an Apache unless you want a very disagreeable reaction from this author), but in amongst the slew of offers were a couple that included the same 37mm Oldsmobile cannon that was the primary weapon of the P-39 Airacobra. One version included a relatively sensible pair of 37mm guns. Another was to have four, two slung beneath each wing, for what would surely have made the most powerful gun armament of any single-engined aircraft during WW2. It would have made mincemeat of Axis tanks and nervous wrecks of the pilots, assuming they could have got the machine off the ground in the first place.

8. Jet

One of the most well-known features of the Mustang is its carefully designed radiator duct designed to recover pressure and add a small but significant amount of thrust from the air heated by the radiator. This was not enough for the boffins at the Royal Aircraft Establishment who proposed fitting a bundle of ramjets behind the radiator to give that much more oomph. Frank Whittle’s Power Jets company designed an installation that clustered twelve burner tubes within a cylindrical heat shield to fit into the Mustang’s radiator scoop exit, and carried out extensive static testing in 1944. The installation may have flown briefly towards the end of the war but by then it seemed more sensible for Whittle to focus on turbojet engines. The USAAF also liked the idea of a ramjet assisted Mustang, and fitted a P-51D with a ramjet on each wingtip. It briefly boosted top speed to 480mph before blowing up spectacularly – fortunately, the pilot escaped.

7. Beguine

The standard, very efficient Mustang radiator was also not good enough for J.D. Reed, who purchased surplus P-51C 42-103757 in 1947, and former test pilot Paul Penrose who encouraged Reed to have it extensively modified by NAA engineers for racing and record-setting. Gone was the belly scoop and instead, coolant and oil radiators were located in a large pod on each wingtip. The similarity to the ramjet pods mentioned above has often been noted. Sadly, the fate of this aircraft, named Beguine (after the dance) at the request of Reed’s wife, was also rather too similar. Penrose had complained of unpleasant roll characteristics but he and Reed fell out before they could be addressed, and Reed sold Beguine to Jaqueline Cochran. Bill Odom flew Beguine for Cochran, winning the Sohio Trophy at a canter, but during the Thompson Trophy race, Odom was having difficulty following the course, and while attempting to correct, rolled inverted and crashed into a house, killing a woman and child as well as Odom. The disaster led to a 13-year break in the National Air Races.

6. Twin Trouble

The Twin Mustang was an unusual concept at the time  – two complete Mustang-derived fuselages, each with their own full cockpit, attached to a single wing, the concept being an ultra-long range escort fighter with a pair of pilots to share the workload. There was much more that was weird about the Twin Mustang though. First of all, the complete inability of the prototype to leave the ground, until it was realised that the counter-rotating propellers were creating negative lift at the centre-section. The rotation of the engines was swapped and the problem solved. The next oddity was that the model used for training and development, the F-82B, had a somewhat better performance than the variant intended for service use, the F-82E. This was due to the end of wartime technology sharing agreements and the wide availability of licence-built Rolls-Royce Merlin engines. As a result, the small number of F-82Bs were the last to be powered by Merlins, and the service variants all had Allison V-1710 power. In many ways a fine engine, Allison never satisfactorily solved the problem of two-stage supercharging, and the model adopted for the F-82E had to be de-tuned for reliability. The Twin Mustang proved most useful as a night-fighter, never fulfilling its initial promise.

5. Mid-mounted mania

Rolls-Royce was impressed with the Mustang from the outset, thanks to test pilot Ronald Harker singing its praises after a flight at the Air Fighting Development Unit. For a while there was a plan for Rolls to re-engine existing RAF Mustangs with Merlin 61s in-house as it had done with the early Spitfire Mk IXs, but alongside that the company was developing far more ambitious ideas to get the best from Edgar Schmued’s creation. The company favoured a mid-mounted engine like the Bell P-39 and P-63, with a 2,000hp+ Griffon or the insane 4,000hp Crecy, a two-stroke monster combined with a jet turbine to recover energy from the fearsome exhaust flow. Neither the engine nor the aircraft flew, but it’s a truly intriguing what-if.

4. Wet feet

The British made a qualified success of turning the Supermarine Spitfire into a carrier fighter so why not try the same with the Mustang? On paper, the American fighter had a lot more going for it, with a much more heavily built airframe, a stable wide-track undercarriage and a better view. More to the point, it had peerless range, which was of great value in the Pacific war, especially when the B-29 came into play without a land-based fighter with the range to escort it.

The Mustang was completely against the typical form of USN fighters, which tended to be big, straightforward and powered by large air-cooled radial engines. The sleeker, subtler Mustang would have represented a big change in approach. Nevertheless, a P-51D was navalised and took part in deck-landing trials aboard USS Shangri-La in late 1944, proving that the fighter was easy to operate from a carrier. The US Navy was lukewarm about the Mustang, and even the test pilot on the programme was less than keen, citing the narrow margin between landing speed and stalling speed. NAA prepared designs for a naval Mustang, based on the P-51H, but the rapid US advance through the Pacific soon provided land bases for escort fighters – including Mustangs, and the USN stuck with big, bulky air-cooled fighters.

3. Turbo snoot

The Mustang’s many positive features kept it attractive as a military aircraft long after it was superseded in its primary role. F-51Ds were still popular in the ground attack role in the Korean War, and sought-after by smaller countries’ air arms. The US Department of Defense even showed interest in an updated Mustang for the export market and counter-insurgency work as late as 1967, approaching a company that had produced a popular civilian P-51 conversion, the Cavalier. These proved a modest success, and Cavalier considered truly modernising the type by fitting a more up-to-date turboprop powerplant. The result was certainly the oddest Mustang variant for looks, as the long, slim R-R Dart gave the Turbo Mustang a distinctly proboscis-like snout. Despite this monstrosity, a taller tail and the lack of a belly scoop, the aircraft was still recognisably a Mustang. It offered great close-air-support and counter-insurgency performance at a low operating cost, but Cavalier failed to gain any customers so sold the programme to a company that could put more resource behind it. Piper bought in and developed the Turbo Mustang into the PA-48 Enforcer, which was less inelegant but ultimately no more successful.

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2. Cowboy

Mustangs wielded a lot of different weapons over the years – machine-guns, cannon, bombs, rockets, even supply cannisters and napalm, but the oddest modification has to be for the weapon used by the First Air Commando in Burma from its P-51As – a lasso. Ironically, given the number of Mustang horses that found themselves on the receiving end of one. In the insurgent war fought by the Chindits and supported by the Air Commando, cutting enemy communications was a vital task. Someone had the bright idea to suspend a 450ft cable at each end from the Mustang’s bomb racks with a weight in the middle. The pilot, exercising great skill, had to drag the cable across telegraph lines in such a way that the weight wrapped around them…and as the aircraft flew on, the cables would break, or even uproot the telegraph poles. When enough telegraph wires had been cut, the pilot would jettison the cable. Simple, and quite mad.

1. Not A Mustang

When is a Mustang not a Mustang? And when is not-a-Mustang a Mustang. When Hollywood gets involved of course! The use of Mustangs to play enemy fighters started quite early, probably influenced by the old canard that they resembled a Messerschmitt Bf 109, which they do a bit if you squint and then keep squinting until your eyes are closed altogether and then imagine a Bf 109. Allison-engined Mustangs play the part Bf 109s in the 1943 pictures ‘Sahara’ and ‘A Guy Named Joe,’ while an RAF Mustang I (still in its RAF markings) does the same in the 1944 British film ‘For Those In Peril.’ Weirdly, a squadron of Air National Guard P-51Ds play the role of a squadron of Messerschmitts in the 1948 technicolour flick ‘Fighter Squadron.’ The practice of Luftwaffering up Mustangs was still going as late as 1992 when Planes of Fame’s P-51A once again donned Balkenkreutzes in ‘Iron Eagle III.’ The Messerschmitt got its own back, though, when a trio of Hispano Ha 1112 Búchons, relatively fresh from playing 109s and the occasional Hurricane in ‘Battle of Britain’ were recruited for the 1970 biopic ‘Patton.’ The preservation movement had barely started, and Mustangs weren’t available in Europe at the time. The Búchons were therefore dressed up with fibreglass belly scoops and USAAF markings to act as P-51Bs. They allegedly had some novel handling characteristics, and ultimately didn’t make the final cut of the film.

The Hush-Kit Book of Warplanes Vol 1 here and Vol 2 here.

There cannot be many aircraft that have had the misfortune to be lumbered with such unflattering nicknames as The Flying Coffin, Widow-Maker, B-Dash-Crash, Winged Coffin, Marter Murderer, The Flying Prostitute* and, last but not least, The Baltimore Whore.  The last two because it had no visible means of support and  ‘Baltimore’ because that was where the Glen L. Martin Company made the B-26. But did the Marauder deserve the abuse?

Despite these highly derogatory views, the Marauder deserves better. Not only did it meet, and exceed, the original specification, as laid down by the US Army Air Corps (USAAC) in January 1939, for a high-speed medium bomber, but its service record is probably second to none. Certainly, the pilots who flew it operationally hold it in very high regard. 

*No offence to sex workers

The design pushed the aerodynamic state of the art, at that time, to its limits. Not only that, the construction and manufacturing methods were also leading edge. Many of the production techniques proved on the Marauder went on to become the de facto standard for the building of post-war jet airliners.  So, in many ways, it was a genuine pioneering design.

The perfect aircraft has yet to be built and the Marauder suffered failings, just like any other piece of complex machinery. But it can be strongly argued that they were not as fundamental as the critics at the time would have you believe.

To understand many of the main issues behind this outstanding aircraft, one has to go back to the original specification, Circular Proposal 39-640, issued on March 11 1939, when storm clouds were already rapidly brewing over Europe. 

This called for a new class of medium bomber, which could carry a 3000lb bomb load (same as a B-17) but could fly straight and level at 323 mph.  It would have less range (1000 miles at 265mph) and service ceiling (23,000 ft) than a B-17, but it should be remembered that even the latest fighters were not going much faster than 300 mph, so it was quite a design challenge. Over 40 US companies were sent the design brief by the USAAC and 5 eventually submitted proposals.

The Martin Company put forward the Model 179 on which it had already started work on. It also recruited, at this time, the delightfully named, Peyton Marshall Magruder, aged 28, to co-ordinate all the work as Chief Designer on the project. He was a pilot and graduate of the USN Academy at Annapolis, as well as having an aeronautical degree. He had already designed the B-10 bomber. He was clearly an exceptional individual, as he went to become an industrialist, playwright and novelist.

The first thing the team did, was go to the USAAC for clarification on what was exactly required. The answer was quite unambiguous. They wanted bomb load and high speed above all else. This was being driven, to a large degree, by Charles Lindbergh’s recommendations following his review of the Luftwaffe.

Magruder noticed that proposal did not specify a maximum landing speed, and, as you don’t get anything for nothing in aeronautics, this was clearly an area where the design team had considerable leeway in terms of trade-off with other aspects of the design. There would have been tactic acceptance of this fact within the USAAC but probably without understanding the implications. This apparent minor oversight, in what we now call the human factor element, was to have a profound and far-reaching impact on the whole project. 

More surprisingly, neither was a stalling speed specified and Magruder ended up using this to his advantage with a 97 mph with full flaps stall speed being quoted, because it sounded less intimidating and frightening than 100mph – a neat psychological trick.

However, if USAAC wanted speed and bomb load, they would get speed and bomb load. Accordingly, the Model 179 design was developed very much along those lines. The proposal submitted had 15 variants and initially was a twin tail design, something that was very much the fashion at the time, and a bomb load capability of 4000lbs.

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The singer from Cobalt Chapel, Cecilia Fage, wishes to share her feelings for the C-130 Hercules.

“The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don’t.” I think of this Douglas Adams quote every time I see a Hercules. Their huge mass seems so at odds with their grace, these great hulking ballerinas, dancing on air.

Cecilia Fage (right)

The first time I came close to a Hercules I had gotten lost on a walk with my young twins. We were making our way uphill through a beech wood of gently twisting trees, silent except for the sound of twigs snapping and the small voices of mildly protesting children. Clambering over a moss covered dry-stone wall, we finally emerged into sunlight and found ourselves in a farmyard. We stopped to rest against an old, rotting wooden gate, but before I could catch my breath I noticed a strange rumbling sensation.

It grew bigger; I could feel it in my body, as though I was being enveloped in an almighty purr. Suddenly two C-130 Hercules barrelled over our heads at no more than 500 feet, almost clipping the moors beneath them, and our involuntary shouts and gasps of awe were plucked from our mouths and carried away by their propellers. They drifted up the valley together, an almighty pair – they often travel in pairs, these beautiful beasts.

Living under a military low-fly training route, I sometimes hear them at night, driving my husband mad by saying “It’s a Herc! Ooh, I reckon 30,000 – no, 28,000 feet,” before being embarrassingly pleased with myself for confirming the altitude on an app and getting it right (well, within a couple of thousand feet anyway; I’m working on it). The sound of a Hercules going over your roof at less than a thousand feet, making you yelp as you brush your teeth before bed, is one you never get used to.
The skies have been quieter lately, perhaps due to cuts in defence spending and the pandemic. Gone are the days of screaming with excitement in my car seeing two Tornado GR4s (R.I.P.) tearing up the valley towards me, while trying not to veer off the road as I drove under their bellies. Or the wokka wokka of a Chinook cruising at the same level as my kitchen window as it headed towards the golden glow of the moorland. Or shrieking with delight in the kids’ playground as a pair of Typhoons ripped the sky above us, a group of bemused children looking at me quizzically (“Why is your mummy shouting?”)

I have to go further afield now to scratch my plane-spotting itch, and what better excuse for an annual trip to Those Famous Valleys in Wales. I’ve sat on my preferred hillside for eight hours at a time without seeing a thing, but it soon dawned on me that part of the enjoyment is in the waiting. Listening for the faintest clue. Watching the landscape, squinting at every dot in the distance. Is it growing? Is it moving nearer? No, it’s just a shadow.

Seeing the clouds play tricks on you, the sun dancing tantalisingly behind them, teasing you with the possibility of a perfect low-fly blue horizon. Accepting when those clouds descend in a blanket of disappointment and you realise you won’t get lucky that day.
But on the day you do get lucky, the excitement crackles in the air. The thrill is palpable as each little figure, determinedly dotted around the various ledges and peaks, leaps up in anticipation. You might even be blessed with the inside knowledge of one of the dedicated regulars, a wise Obi Wan Kenobi of an aviation enthusiast, appearing just in the nick of time at the summit to generously share the news, “Strix incoming! Two-ship.” Your eyes focus on that tiny speck, this time it’s definitely not a sheep in the distance, yes it’s getting larger, and larger, and then there she is – wait, there’s another one – and within seconds, they appear. That unmistakable ruler-straight wing, four massive propellers, the most elegant soaring whale of a plane, her sister a blink behind her, and that giant rumbling purr which you feel from your toes to your hair. Standing high on a hillside above a Hercules as she sweeps beneath you through the valley feels impossible, like a childhood dream of blissful flying and that feeling of freedom, so elusive in adulthood.

I get asked the question often, but I haven’t worked out why I love planes so much. (Many of us seem to also have a fondness for birds?) Perhaps it started with all those trips to Biggin Hill as a child, at a time in the 1980s before the advent of kids’ fashion, when trendless, practical clothes for girls bestowed a tomboyish sense of freedom. I wore a bowl cut so precise, you could have used a compass to measure its arc, and a terry-towelling tracksuit for all occasions. I feel the same way now, when I put on a Fostex flight suit (or as I call it, cosplay for those of us who will never be pilots). Practical and ready for anything. Ideally for sitting strapped in the back of a Hercules, looking out of her wide-open cargo door at the vista below as we fly through the gap between the high Welsh peaks, and waving to those familiar figures on the hillside taking photographs.
Well, a girl can dream, can’t she?

The new Cobalt Chapel album Orange Synthetic is available here

A series of sleek exotic fighter aircraft concepts were explored between 1970 and 1982 in the US. With the fabulous good looks of a fictional spaceship, these Cold War studies were extremely lightweight and often revolutionary in shape and concept. Jim Smith delves into the fascinating story of Bud Nelson’s light fight concepts.

This article stems from a detailed paper called ‘The Third Pass of the Fifth Generation‘. Yes, the title is enigmatic, but it’s possible something has been lost in translation.

The article was published in April 2020 by Kazakhstan Engineering and describes in some detail projects and concepts for very light fighters developed by American aerospace engineer Bud Nelson for first Boeing, and latterly Northrop. These projects spanned a period from 1970 to 1982, and to place these lightweight concepts in context, the Table below shows some first flight dates for other fighters in this period.

First flight	Aircraft
1970	MiG-27, Grumman F-14 Tomcat
1972	MD F-15 Eagle
1974	Northrop YF-17, GD YF-16 and Panavia Tornado
1975	MiG-31
1977	MiG-29, Su-27
1978	MD F/A-18, Mirage 2000
1980	GD F-16/79
1982	GD F-16XL, F-20 Tigershark

Militarily significant world events in this period included the closing stages of the Vietnam War, and the Yom Kippur between Israel, Egypt and Syria (1973); the invasion of Afghanistan by the Soviet Union (1979); the start of the Iran-Iraq War (1980); and the Falklands conflict (1982).
A summary of the projects
• Boeing 908-909

This was Boeing’s entry to the Lightweight Fighter competition, and lost out to General Dynamics and Northrop, who received contracts to develop the YF-16 and YF-17 respectively. The general configuration of this aircraft was similar to a YF-16, single-engined, with an under-fuselage intake and single fin. However, the wing appears to be a simple swept wing, without the leading edge strake featured on the YF-16 and YF-17. In addition, the nose of the aircraft was very slender, and would not have provided sufficient space for an Airborne Intercept (AI) radar.

Having missed out on the LWF competition, Boeing was looking to establish a role for the Boeing 747 as an Airborne Aircraft Carrier (AAC), and tasked Bud Nelson designed a series of micro-fighter to come up with a fighter for this. As this would inevitably have to be small, Nelson designed a series of Micro-fighter concepts to meet the desires of the ‘Fighter Mafia’, who had advocated for the LWF program, seeking light weight and extreme manoeuvrability. The first of these was the Boeing 908-625, and later concepts were variations of the Boeing 985.

Boeing 908-625

Microfighter, for operation from flying aircraft carriers. This was a single-engined tailless aircraft, with a wing that bore a passing resemblance to that of the BAC Lightning, and a take-off weight of just 3.7 tonnes. Fins were mounted on the wingtips for directional stability and control, and the engine was fitted with a rectangular rear vectoring nozzle for pitch control. The armament was two cannon on the upper shoulders of the fuselage, and the aircraft was stressed for manoeuvres up to 8.5g.

Boeing 985-121
Designed with a similar intent to the 908-625, this featured a change in armament to carry two tip mounted guided weapons. Otherwise, the wing was changed to a lower aspect ratio, with a planform bearing a resemblance to that of the Douglas Skyray. The tip fins and vectoring rear nozzle were retained.
• Boeing 985-213

The 985-213 was developed as larger, higher performance version of 985-121. The wing planform was dramatically different. Very highly-swept and highly-tapered, this was an arrow wing with conical camber, and was derived from concepts examined in the Supersonic Civil Air Transport (SCAT) program. The wing tips could fold down to improve subsonic lift, and the tail fins were mounted at about about 80% span rather than at the wingtips.
The concept was armed with 2 missiles, carried on the upper fuselage shoulders in a retractable installation, together with a 3-barrel 20mm cannon for ground attack. The concept appears to have a very small radar, and a tricycle undercarriage to allow recovery to an airfield if necessary, the primary operating base remaining the Boeing 747 AAC.
The performance claimed was Mmax 2.2, with supercruise possible to M 1.6. A combination of reduced stability, coupled with light weight and thrust vectoring was expected to allow the aircraft to manoeuvre at up to 8g at Mach 0.8.

Swing-wing variant
The airborne aircraft carrier concept was eventually abandoned, but efforts continued, looking at similar configurations. This now would need to operate from an airfield, and need improved take-off and landing performance, and increased fuel. A twin-engine configuration was examined, with a wing like the 908-909, but variable sweep. This included un-sweeping the wing tips to keep the tip fins aligned. Unsurprisingly, this variant was considered to be too big, too complex, and to have too high a weight penalty.

Light Experimental Supercruiser (LES)

By 1976, the Air Force had concluded that the aircraft was too operationally inflexible, so the concept was reworked to introduce a canard. The wing-tip fins and the vectoring nozzle were retained, and two missiles were to be carried under fuselage. The intent at this stage was for the concept to support to heavy fighters as a front-line interceptor.
The concept continued to evolve, with the design reverting to the highly-swept and tapered arrow wing used on the 985-213, but with a simpler profile. In response to the concerns about armament, provision was made for underwing stores carriage, and vertical variable ramp inlet used. These measured impacted on both weight and drag, and supercruise capability was now limited to M1.3 and max speed Mach 1.8.
Take-off weight was increased to 7.5 tons, and, for comparison, the YF-16A had an empty weight of 6.4 tonnes, and a loaded weight of 9.7 tonnes.

Northrop
In 1978 Nelson and his team left Boeing and moved to Northrop. At this time, Northrop had the F-5E/F in production, and was working with McDonnell-Douglas on the development of the F-18. Nelson’s initial task at Northrop was to work on the F-18L variant of the Naval F/A-18A, intended for export and for land-based operations. Then in 1980, a lighter and cheaper aircraft to complement what was then the ATF was sought, as the Mission Adaptive Fighter.

•
Nelson’s concept for this program had the same basic arrow-wing, tip fins plus rectangular thrust vectoring nozzle as the earlier Boeing concepts, but buried and screened intakes in the leading edge, and inward canted fins to reduce radar signature.
Weapons were to be carried in an internal launcher system, which was deployed when needed, but was otherwise within the fuselage to reduce signature and drag. A mix of weapons were proposed including up to 4 air to air missiles, or 40 unguided CRV 7 rockets, or a minigun plus a reduced mixed missile load.
The aircraft was unstable, with a digital flight control system. Avionics for this and other systems were modularised and easily swapped out to expedite repairs and increase aircraft availability. The take-off weight was about 7.7 tonnes, and supercruise capability was sacrificed in the pursuit of reduced signature and high manoeuvrability, the structure being rated for 10g manoeuvres.

• Northrop N-356

This was an export version of the N-353, with a simplified wing, F-18-like intakes, and external weapons carriage under the fuselage. The wing-tip fins were replaced by a single central fin, allowing the carriage of tip-mounted AAMs.

Commonality with the F-18L was sought where possible, and all of the changes in design both added weight and decreased manoeuvre performance. The manoeuvre capability was 7.5g, but up to 6 AAM could be carried.
The USAF took a policy decision in the same period to focus on low observables as the way ahead, and that was that.

So what went wrong?

Some of the aircraft in this saga of wasted effort looked absolutely uber-cool, in a Gerry Anderson kind of way, but ultimately, in my view, the whole program was utterly misconceived and, even if supported by the Air Force, would not have produced an aircraft competitive with the F-16.
This sounds harsh, but the tides of history and technology development at the time were running against the lightly-armed but highly-manoeuvrable concepts that were being considered.
This saga provoked me into thinking in general terms about Light Fighters and their history, and why Light Fighter proposals appeared, and continued to appear seemingly throughout the long history of air combat.

It seems to me that there was a long period, from the beginnings of air combat, right through to about the end of the Korean War, or just possibly the start of the Vietnam War, where there was genuine competition between the Light and the Heavy fighters.

In this period, air combat was overwhelmingly visual air combat, aimed at getting one aircraft’s guns to bear on the other. In these circumstances, lighter aircraft could often out-turn heavier ones, making themselves difficult targets, and obtaining success in a turning fight. Heavier aircraft were generally faster and better armed, and they could obtain success by using ‘slashing’ tactics and avoiding turning combat, and, perhaps taking the combat into the vertical plane if they had sufficient speed and climb-rate advantage.
I wonder whether the proponents of the ‘Fighter Mafia’ were in effect still fighting these conflicts.
After this period, lightweight fighters were still being constructed, but, as set out in my historical piece, were perhaps of greater importance for smaller air arms, or for the Client States of the major powers. Indeed, the Northrop F-5 Freedom Fighter would be an excellent example of such an aircraft.
For the major powers, air combat had been transformed by the development of effective infra-red, and later radar-guided, air-to-air missiles (AAM). These missiles resulted in a technology landscape favouring the heavy fighter, with a radar, possibly two crew, and a mix of IR and radar-guided AAM. Progressive development of radars, missiles, and missile seekers has resulted in a situation where Beyond Visual Range (BVR) air combat is preferred. Short-range manoeuvring air combat is something to be avoided if possible, as the expected result is, all too often, a mutual kill.

As technology is continuing to evolve, lighter-weight fighters are making a come-back, as aircraft like the Gripen and Tejas are demonstrating that highly integrated systems with long-range missiles and highly effective sensors can now be packaged into a single-engined and single-seat airframe. Late model F-16C/D also have BVR capability, but are more often used as multi-role tactical strike aircraft than as BVR Air Defence assets.

The Boeing airborne aircraft carrier concept was doomed, probably from the outset. Against what has proven to be a very successful and very versatile F-16 aircraft, exported around the world, and built in the thousands, the most fully-developed concept, the 985-213, comes up short.
A package consisting of the 747 carrier and four 985-213 offers a capability of just eight AAM, but requires five aircraft, and at least seven aircrew to achieve this. In addition, the vulnerability of the carrier aircraft is such that it is questionable what penetration of enemy airspace could have been achieved.
Efforts to develop a viable land-based version of the aircraft ran into the problem that additional fuel would be required to achieve a useful combat capability, and the most fully developed land-based variant, the Northrop N-353 would end up competing against the same company’s lower risk, but ultimately still unsuccessful F-20 Tigershark.
A detailed article on the F-20 and the Israeli Lavi can be found here.
While there was some interest in the N-356 in the export market, I’d suggest the aircraft would not have been competitive with the F-16, which was being made available for export, at least to some Nations, in the same timescale.
All in all, a sorry saga, and a demonstration that even if it looks uber-cool, it’s not necessarily the right answer. It might, indeed, be the answer to the wrong problem.

The fascinating aviation history of Ireland is seldom covered, so in an attempt to rectify this we asked Michael Carley to pick the 10 most important aircraft in Irish history. Though the Seafire and Lysander were operated by the Irish armed forces, they don’t make the cut for historical importance. The following 10 aircraft paint a fascinating picture of Ireland’s unique aeronautical history.

(The lovely Seafire image above is by Edward Ward for Hush-Kit and is available on a variety of high-quality items here.)

10. Martinsyde Type A

Everything in Ireland happens twice: once when we claim independence, once when we get it. The first Dáil Éireann (national assembly), containing a large contingent of men with a price on their heads, met three years before Ireland was granted formal independence. In between, the Irish government negotiated with the United Kingdom, leading to the notorious Treaty, which was signed just over a century ago. When the Irish delegation went to London to make the deal, they had no idea how things might turn out and felt the need of a getaway vehicle, in particular for Michael Collins, a man worth ten grand, dead or alive.

Two former RAF men, William McSweeney and Charles Russell, now serving in the IRA, were sent to buy an aircraft and have it ready for a quick exit should talks fail. Laundering the money through the Irish Self-Determination League of Great Britain, the Dáil paid three thousand for a Martinsyde Type A, and the Irish Air Corps had its first aircraft, christened ‘The Big Fella’, after Collins. The Martinsyde cabin was modified to carry five people, and the aircraft was stashed at Brooklands, where a Captain Clarke was slipped twenty five quid to make sure it was ready at short notice. If talks had collapsed and Collins had to take a runner, Russell have flown him from Brooklands to Leopardstown racecourse in Dublin, routing via Bristol and Wexford.

In the event, the talks led to the Treaty, which was endorsed by Dáil Éireann (another, ongoing, story) and the escape plan was dropped. The Martinsyde was taken over by the Air Corps at independence, though it was of little use in the Civil War and was mainly used for VIP transport. It was scrapped in 1937 after a decade out of service, being used to train ground crew.

9. Bristol F.2 Fighter

The Bristol F.2 was the first aircraft the Irish Army National Air Service acquired without having to approach a dodgy aeroplane dealer. By the end of 1922, the air service had ten aircraft, six F.2s and four Martinsyde Type As. The F.2 was a reasonably capable aircraft for the period and started the practice of Ireland not being as far behind the rest of the world as some people assume. Ten years later, the air corps was flying Gloster Gladiators and by the end of the Second World War, it was replacing Hurricanes with Seafires. It had also introduced the coolest roundel on the planet.

Shortly after the Civil War, the National Air Service became the Army Air Corps with its headquarters at Baldonnel, south of Dublin, near where I grew up. Baldonnel Aerodrome was later named after Sir Roger Casement. Britain had knighted him for his work exposing abuses in the rubber-tapping industry, and hanged him for trying to bring German guns into Ireland for the 1916 Rising. That would probably make the headquarters of the Irish Air Corps the only military airfield in the world named after a gay icon.

8. de Havilland DH.84 Iolar

Frank Zappa allegedly reckoned you’re not a real country unless you have a beer and an airline. Ireland has a beer older than the state, which causes all sorts of trademark issues, but it didn’t get an airline until April 1936 when Aer Lingus (in English “air fleet”, or in Russian, aeroflot) was founded. Its first aircraft was a de Havilland DH.84, called Iolar (“Eagle”). The first scheduled service was from Baldonnel (now Casement Aerodrome) to Bristol (Whitchurch). A second aircraft, a DH.86 Éire was used to extend the Bristol service to Croydon, and the DH.84 began the first Dublin–Liverpool service. According to Wikipedia, the Dublin–London route is the second busiest international route in the world, after Hong Kong–Taipei. That’s a lot of miserable people being flown by Ryanair.

Iolar is no more, but Aer Lingus did restore another DH.84 as a replica.

OX-5

7. Customised Curtiss-Robin OX-5

Alcock and Brown made the first flight between North America and Ireland, but they crashed in a field in Galway. Douglas Wrong Way Corrigan flew from Brooklyn to Dublin and landed at the Irish Air Corps’ Baldonnel Aerodrome, in 1938. Corrigan was an aircraft mechanic who had worked on Lindbergh’s Spirit of Saint Louis and wanted to repeat the trip, selecting Ireland as his destination. After getting a transport pilot’s licence, bought a used Curtiss-Robin OX-5 and took it home to California. He upgraded the aircraft with extra fuel capacity and a new engine made of two old Wright Whirlwinds. This was enough to get him permission for cross-country flights, but permission for a transatlantic attempt was denied. By 1937, he had improved the aircraft so much that he was denied permission to fly it all. Flying on an experimental aircraft permit, he travelled from California to New York, as a test of the aircraft’s range. That flight took 27 hours, the last few of which were marred by fumes in the cockpit from a fuel leak.

At Floyd Bennett field, Corrigan filed a flight plan for return to California, took off, and headed east instead of west. After ten hours, he made a hole in the floor to drain the fuel leaking into the cockpit. After twenty six hours, he realised he had been going the wrong way. Two hours after that he landed in Baldonnel. He was barred from flying for fourteen days. On the day his suspension expired, he arrived by steamer in New York by steamer, with his aeroplane.

6. Boeing 314

Before there was Shannon Airport, there was Foynes Flying Boat Station. On the Shannon estuary, it was the point of entry for flying boats from Newfoundland, Montreal, Poole, and Lisbon. Pan Am’s Yankee Clipper was the first Boeing 314 assigned to the Atlantic routes and made its proving flight to Foynes in April 1939. For a few years afterwards, Foynes was one of the biggest civilian airports in Europe, mainly because it was one of the few in a neutral country. The 314 was the civilized way to cross the Atlantic, if you had the cash. Dinner was served on linen, wine came in crystal, and when you woke up in the morning, your freshly polished shoes were next to your bed. It also had a celestial observation turret. Every home should have one.

Foynes was closed in 1946 and its place in transatlantic aviation was taken by Shannon Airport on the other side of the estuary. Shannon’s first transatlantic flight took place in 1945 and in 1947 it became the world’s first duty-free airport. Foynes claims the credit for inventing the Irish coffee, as a way of warming up flying boat passengers who needed reviving.

In 1989 I spent a long time at Shannon because a bunch of Cubans had defected in Gander.

5. Short Sunderland

The Short Sunderland, ‘Flying Porcupine’ to the enemy, was the first of their own aircraft which Short Brothers built at their Belfast plant. They had set up a plant there, to supplement production in Rochester, and started off by producing Bristol Bombays and Handley-Page Herefords. The Sunderland is probably the first production aircraft you could meaningfully call ‘Irish’. It flew in the Battle of Atlantic, the Korean War, and the Berlin Airlift. It was heavily armed, purposeful, and looked just the way you’d hope a military flying boat would. It did anti-submarine warfare, search-and-rescue, and maritime reconnaissance.

It’s a miracle Short Brothers managed to build it. They were so badly run, the state stepped in. In 1943, “left to their own devices the management of Short Brothers had not succeeded in putting their house satisfactorily in order”, so the British government nationalised them. Then it denationalised them.

4. Fouga Magister

The Fouga was the second Magister flown by the Air Corps: one of their Miles Magisters is hanging up in the National Museum in Dublin. The National Museum also has Ireland’s other exotically-tailed fast (ish) jet, a de Havilland Vampire. The Vampire and the Magister were probably the last time Ireland flew fixed-wing aircraft that you could call “advanced”, and even then it’s a stretch. Today, the Air Corps flies modern aircraft of their type (CN-235, PC-12, EC135, AW139, PC-9) but realistically Ireland doesn’t need fast jets.

The Magister gets the nod here because it was a bit more modern, and a bit more shinier than the Vampire. It was also the last jet operated by the Air Corps, other than the Gulfstream IV and the Learjet used for VIP and medical transport. The Magister entered Irish service in 1975 and was flown until 1999 as a trainer and as the Light Strike Squadron. Four Magisters formed the corps’ display team, the Silver Swallows. In 1997, they appeared at Fairford and won the Lockheed Martin Cannestra Trophy for the Best Display by an Overseas Performer, which isn’t a bad way to close an era.

If you were on your way down the Blessington Road back into Tallaght, you would occasionally see the Silver Swallows practicing. Side on. They liked to get close to the ground.

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(link goes to volume 2 but you can find volume 1 on the same site)

3. Short ‘Vomit Comet’

The Short Skyvan and its descendants, the 330 and the 360 are proof that you really can make a brick fly if you put an adequate wing on it. Presumably, somebody had stolen the compasses from the design office and they had to use a ruler for everything. They ended up designing an aircraft that was a very convenient shape for putting square boxes into. It was not a convenient shape for air to flow over. It was noisy and sickness-inducing. The US Air Force bought a few, calling them the C-23 Sherpa, after people who go to great heights without pressurisation.

They were also popular with skydiving clubs, presumably because being a passenger in one made throwing yourself out the door an attractive proposition.

Embraer EMB110 Bandeirante

2. Embraer EMB 110 Bandeirante

A what? The EMB110 is an eighteen passenger twin turboprop designed in the 1960s. In 1985, an Irish company called Danren Enterprises started flying them from Waterford to Gatwick. Not long afterwards, the owners, Christopher Ryan, Liam Lonergan, and Tony Ryan, renamed the company.

Look, do I have to spell this out?

1. Short SC.1

Short Brothers had their moments, it is fair to say. The SC-1 was a stubby little delta-wing affair with five engines: one pointing backwards and four pointing down. It made its first flight in April 1957, using the backward-pointing engine. In May 1958, a second SC-1 made a tethered hover, using the downward-pointing engines. In April 1960, an SC-1 made its first transition from vertical to forward flight, and back again. VTOL was a thing. The design was a dead end, because it made no sense to carry four engines that you had to keep switched off most of the time, but the two aircraft showed that vertical take off was feasible and that controlled transition from vertical to forward flight was possible. A few years later, the Harrier was entering service.

Michael Carley is a Senior Lecturer at the University of Bath, teaching aircraft stability and control, and researching aircraft noise. NPL (failed).