its absence – we had to push. No go. Hitched up one of the gliding clubs tractors – both vehicles
bogged down. Tried two tractors – busted the tow chain. Eventually we had a wonderful time all pushing, the two tractors revving, Francois screaming and doing his nut in the cab, the tractor drivers shrieking, dozens of revolting kids gathered round from nowhere shouting and in the midst of the chaos the truck started and sprayed mud all over us. Spent the journey back exhausted and praying our mad driver wouldn’t stall the damn thing.
9 August 1957
….weather has been a bit uppity, so the only day was Thursday, when I managed to get a 28 minute flight in, and just made it back to the airfield, as the air was getting as dead as a dodo. Which gave rise to a bit of low comedy later in the afternoon when an instructor took one of the Dutch lads up on an aerotow and disappeared for what seemed an exceptionally long time. Eventually, the Tiger Moth tug pilot took off and went looking, and a little later came roaring back overhead about 10 feet up leaning out shouting “Vache!” . Collapse of audience in mirth as two little figures appeared trudging from the other end of the airfield, the instructor looking a bit sheepish and the Dutch lad somewhat puzzled at the amount of walking in this gliding game… Mind you, it wasn’t funny by the time we’d dragged the glider out of yet another cornfield and dissembled it to go on a truck back to the strip….
Mick Champ and glider
25 Aug 1957
gliding again last Wednesday and I at least see the towing aircraft all the time I’m on tow, so should be solo soon. First flight in the morning, then an excellent lunch at the café/bar in Vimory – pickled cucumber and ham , pressed meat and gherkins, then roast beef, then bowls of peas, then endive tossed in oil, vinegar and garlic, camembert, peaches and grapes and coffee. And wine. Most definitely wine, lots thereof……
My second flight was straight after lunch, and as my instructor M. Adam had had quite a skinful it was quite stimulating. At one stage I swear he – who doesn’t speak English – was talking broad Scots and I was responding in fluent French. Then we saw a forest fire and headed for it casting off the tow at 800 metres and got some whacking lift which took us to cloudbase. Spent ages circling left and right in thermals as he muttered “virage a droit” “virage a gauche” until I got dizzy and he came all over tired and said “a vous, allons, you play wiz eet” and nodded off. Managed two loops and various other general cavorting, and then I couldn’t see the airfield and had to waken him up after which we just made over the fence and no more. I didn’t relish the idea of a “vache” - too full of food to push a glider out of a field!
9 October 1957
The weather has put of gliding for weeks now, strong winds, rain or both. Today is gorgeous, as has been the rest of this week, but nobody’s gone down to Vimory so no transport, and the season finishes end of this month.
Watch this space for more of Jock’s escapades including high jinks in the M P H Motor Club.