I found this last week on eBay listed as a 1930s RAF photo. After receiving said picture, a closer examination showed it to be RAF, but it was taken in America during World War II (Note the “USA” titles worn by some of the men). Most who know a thing or two about WWII aviation also know that the airmen of many Allied nations trained in the United States during that time. With wide-open spaces, fair weather, and, most importantly, a noticeable lack of Luftwaffe fighters to distract you, the US was the logical place to learn the fundamentals of flight.

 Men from Britain and other nations were welcomed, and by the time the program ended, thousands of airmen had been trained in what was obviously a very successful idea. To those who may disagree, I offer this: Name one man in the RAF who was shot down in American skies by Luftwaffe fighters.

I rest my case.

 Based at RAF Waddington with 50 Squadron, XM652 was nearing the end of its days when photographed by yours truly at Decimomonnu Air Base on Sardinia in 1983. The first Vulcan I ever saw, the howl it made on take off impressed me for all time. (I didn’t know at the time that this “howl” was a signature of the mighty Vulcan.) I understand that XM652 was to be preserved, but the civilians who bought it screwed that up, and sadly the aircraft was subsequently scrapped. The nose section survives.

This was an outstanding aircraft.  Accordingly, it had an incredibly long life for a large flying boat, the last flying regularly scheduled airline service in to the 1970’s.

When a Vickers Varsity ended up on the roof of a Gloucester home in March, 1963, it made headlines around the world – including the Seattle Post-Intelligencer in my home town.  Despite the appearance of the seemingly comical resting place of the Varsity, it was in fact a tragedy in that both pilots lost their life.  The only good news was the occupants of the home escaping relatively unscathed.

The de Havillland Rapide in the background looks out of place compared to the sleek Hunter.