Four days late, but at least it was before the end of the year, mused Jeffrey Quill, at least the bomber would fly in 1940. Just.
He had been the second person to fly the Spitfire, after Mutt Summers, but now Quill was chief test pilot, and would at last get to make the maiden flight of a new aircraft type. The B.12/36 (they still hadn't been able to get agreement on the name, it was getting to be something of a joke at Supermarines) stood outside in the clear morning light, as Quill went through the paperwork. So many forms he had to check and countersign before the first flight; fuel load, C.G. limits, engine handling restrictions… the list went on and on. With a flourish he signed the last form in the stack (to acknowledge that the aircraft was not to be banked beyond 45 degrees pending further stressing calculations on the tailfin. As if he would fly a bomber that aggressively, let alone on its maiden flight!), handed the whole lot over to the fretsome fellow behind the desk, and stepped out of the control hut to look over the aircraft.
The bomber had a purposeful look about it, with those swept leading edges giving the wing an almost triangular appearance, and the bulky radial engines hung on the front — less widely spaced than on the Stirling, the aircraft from Shorts that competed to fill the B.12/36 requirement. Quill had, of course, heard the story of the ignominious end to the Stirling's first flight, when its undercarriage collapsed after landing. He hoped no such accidents would mar today's flight; Shorts were already ahead, having started series production in August, and the mandarins in Whitehall had been leery of the Supermarine design ever since R.J. passed away — as if somehow Smith weren't totally up to finishing the job. Ridiculous. In any case, the Stirling could only carry 14,000 pounds of bombs, barely two thirds of what could be squeezed into this mighty machine.
The design office had decided that flying the B.12/36 was too much for one man, a second pair of hands being essential to handle the engines, fuel pumps and various other systems. Quill wasn't about to complain; the big bomber was bound to be much more of a handful than the Spitfires he'd been test-flying for the past couple of years. Rogers, for his sins, would be his flight engineer for the first few flights, until Bristol got round to sending someone down like they'd promised.
"Booster pumps on. Gills open. Magnetos on." Rogers ran through the litany of checks. "Brake pressures OK. Accumulator fully charged. Pitch fully fine."
Quill adjusted the altimeter QFE, made sure the trim was neutral, and turned to face the engineer. "Ready to start up."
As Rogers held down the starter switch, the No.2 engine began to turn over. The cold engine coughed for a few seconds, before roaring into life. "1400 revs, holding steady. Starting No.1," said Rogers, as the port outer started to move. Soon all four engines were running, sending a rhythmic vibration through the body of the aircraft. After running up each engine in turn to check the magnetos, Quill taxied the big bomber out to the main runway. A fully laden bomber would need a much longer take-off run than was available here, but for the test flights, not only was the bomb bay empty, but the fuel tanks were only half full; Eastleigh's runway would be more than long enough for the job.
"Cleared for take-off." The outboard engines spun up to 2800rpm as Rogers throttled up to a boost pressure of +6; the inboard engines were held at 2600 by a detent, to avoid overtaxing the oil coolers. Quill released the brakes, and the Type 317 prototype began to pick up speed. Twenty knots, forty, sixty; the controls began to 'bite' as the tail came up. The bomber tried to swing to port, but Quill was ready for it and kept the nose straight. At 120 knots he eased back on the control column, and felt the aircraft respond eagerly. They were airborne.
It wasn't perfect. No aircraft ever is, the first time it flies, despite the story they liked to tell about the Spitfire. The Type 317's rudder was too heavy, the ailerons rather light; with the flaps down the trim changed too much and the aircraft seemed to lean eagerly forwards; the airspeed was at least five knots slower than the aerodynamicists had predicted — either that or they'd got the ASI calibration wrong. But these were minor things, could probably be fixed; could be lived with if not. Overall, Quill thought, this was a first class aircraft, and he was almost reluctant to bring the flight to an end. But the basic handling of the aircraft had been explored, and now it was time for the first landing. A fairly wide circuit was necessary, the Type 317 not being as nimble as the fighters that were normally test-flown out of Eastleigh, and the trim was becoming a nuisance again as he put down full flap for the final approach. Sweating with the exertion of flying the big bomber (there being no such thing as powered controls in those days), he lined up with the runway, kicked the rudder bar to allow for the slight crosswind, and set the prototype down — fairly gently — on the runway.
Reichswehr procurement order dated 29. Dezember (translated).
KRUPP ESSEN, a further 240 88mm Flak guns, to be delivered by end of
February. Standard wheeled carriages to be included.
SIEMENS MÜNCHEN, eight electrical alternators for searchlight power, to be
delivered by April 12th.
No. 7 Squadron War Diary for week 23rd-29th December 1940.
Crew training continued in a desultory fashion due to further problems with
the squadron's Stirling aircraft. B-Beer is still being repaired after its
undercart mishap, while L-Leather and N-Nuts are awaiting replacement spark
plugs. All ground crews are working very hard however, and O-Orange was
able to fly every day this week, a 'first' for the squadron's Stirlings.
In fighter affiliation training on the 27th it was discovered that the
existing standard evasive maneuver is inadequate; pilots are experimenting
to find an alternative.