Whenever
Mr. George Reginald Lodge, of 45, Pontefract Road, Ferrybridge, sees an
aeroplane streak across the sky, or hears talk of the Concorde and
supersonic bangs, his thoughts go back to his own flying days. Those were
the days of the open cockpit; when top speeds were around 100mph; and when
pilots, often facing atrocious weather conditions, relied entirely upon
their own judgement for take-off, manoeuvre, and landing. Forced down into
an orchard during a snowstorm when snow lay four inches deep inside the
cockpit... shot down over no-mans land in France Those were but two of Mr
Lodge’s hair-raising adventures during his service in the old Royal
Flying Corps.
After
joining the R.F.C. in October 1914, Mr. Lodge was sent for training to
Brooklands where many of the scenes for the film "Those Magnificent
Men in their Flying Machines" were shot. Then followed a course of
instruction in aeroplane body and engine maintenance at Bristol. In
February 1915, he became an Airman First Class and was placed in charge of
a flight. By September he had been promoted to Flight Sergeant. "I
flew such machines as the Bleriot monoplane, the Maurice Farman biplane, a
two-seater R.E.8 biplane, and the F.E.2b biplane," Mr. Lodge told me.
"Most of these machines were powered by 160h.p. Renault engines and
flew at 100 mph."
"While
flying from Brooklands to Northolt in an F.E.2b, which was powered by a
Beardmore engine, with a Captain Summers as pilot, we had to land in an
orchard after being forced down in a snowstorm. By the time we managed to
land, there was four inches of snow in the cockpit. To start the engine
one man had to twist the propeller four or five times to ease the engine,
then the pilot switched on the engine and shouted ‘contact’. The prop
was given a gentle swing and with luck, the engine started."
In
1917, Mr. Lodge was posted to France to serve with a night bombing
squadron. "During the day a spotter plane would go out and take
pictures of German troop concentrations," he said. "It was then
the job of the bomber crews to find and bomb these troops after dark. F.E.
2b’s were used. These machines were pushed by a rear engine and were
fitted with Lewis guns." Mr. Lodge continued: "As observer and
gunner on these aeroplanes, I sat in front of the pilot. The observer was
the one who dropped the bombs. In the cockpit there were levers to release
each of the nine bombs carried. A 112lb bomb was slung under the
undercarriage and there were four 50lb bombs under each wing. When the
observer dropped the bombs he had to look over the sides of the plane and
guess where the bombs would land. There were no landing instruments in
those days. We had to look over the side to see how high we were and watch
where we were going at the same time."
While
Mr. Lodge was stationed at Northolt, a friend, Corporal Motteshead, shot
down a Zeppelin airship. "It was claimed as the first airship shot
down," said Mr. Lodge. "Corporal Motteshead was observer on a
B.E.2b piloted by a Lieutenant Robinson. The Lewis guns on the B.E.2b’s
had a tracer shell every sixth round. It was with the tracer shells that
the Zeppelin was shot down. Although Corporal Motteshead was the one who
actually shot down the Zeppelin, he received the Military Medal, whereas
the pilot received the Victoria Cross for his part. Corporal.Motteshead
would not wear his medal and got into a great deal of trouble, but he
thought it was unfair that a man who played the major part in an action
should get a lesser honour because of rank."
While
on night bombing mission, Mr. Lodge and his pilot were shot down over
no-man’s land. "We were forced down among the thousands of shell
holes which made up no-man’s land," Mr. Lodge recalled. "We
were lucky to get the plane down - it was pitch black. It’s a wonder we
didn’t end up at the bottom of one of those holes."
After
being rescued by men of the Gordon Highlanders, Mr. Lodge spent three days
on a stretcher on his way to hospital in Dundee. Six months later he left
hospital and was posted to Andover where he was placed in charge of the
R.F.C. wounded who were awaiting discharge.
"Pilots
today don’t know they are born," said Mr. Lodge, "They fly in
comfort, with every electronic device imaginable to help them. In my day
we had nothing; in everything we did we had to rely on our own judgement.
Planes of today have the speed to carry them through air pockets; if we
hit an air pocket at the speed we used to fly, we were in great danger of
dropping to the ground like a stone."
Last
in an aircraft in 1917, Mr. Lodge often feels the urge to "reach for
the sky," but he is resigned to the fact that his flying days are
over.
