CHAPTER 26 HOT BUMS & THE CATERPILLAR CLUB - MY EXPERIENCES IN THE VOMIT COMET & OTHER AIRCRAFT

 I was 16 and a rookie in the then Southern Rhodesian Air Force when I experienced my first flight in an aircraft. It was in a VIP Dakota DC3 which had been sold to the Southern Rhodesia Air Force by the South African Prime Minister. As it was used to ferry VIPs around, this Dakota was fitted out with luxurious seating and even had curtains on the windows. It was posh.

It was carrying out night flying circuits and bumps and the five brand new aircraft apprentices, waiting to go to RAF Halton for training, were invited to go for a ride. It was all most exciting. We climbed aboard and the Flight Engineer showed us how to fasten our seat belts and where to find a special paper bag should it be needed. Pfft! As if!

 The engines started and we were airborne. No sooner had the under carriage been raised when I grabbed the paper bag and disposed of my dinner.  Man I was sick! I never felt so bad. Forget this! I made up my mind to stay on the ground, fix the aircraft, and avoid flying in them whenever possible.

It soon turned out to be impossible, but fortunately, this was the only time I ever got air sick. Just as well, because, over the next 25 years, I was to spend many thousands of hours flying in the rear of a DC 3/ C47/ Gooney Bird/Dak/  or Vomit Comet, as these wonderful aircraft were variously called.

These  3 Dakota aircraft are shown returning from a parachuting sortie having dropped their loads of paratroopers onto a terrorist base camp inside Mozambique.On the farthest aircraft from the camera the anti heat seeking exhaust shroud fitted to the port engine can be easily seen .   


hen there was that time the high wind effect was made painfully clear. It was during a demonstration jump for the local Chiefs at Thornhill Air Base and I jumped as The Drifter. Instead of landing gracefully in front of an impressed crowd, I slammed hard into the ground, a fair way from where I was supposed to demonstrate how clever I was. When the dropping aircraft requested the wind speed across the airfield, Thornhill tower told us it was 15kts, but failed to mention there were gusts of up to 20kts/ 23mph. Far too high and not worth the risk. We would never put troops in possible danger just to impress some big-wigs.

I had landed fast during a gust. I wasn’t injured but it was a close thing. I frantically waved my arms around and drew my hand across my throat in the cut-off signal. But everyone assumed I was giving the A-OK signal and ignored me. The jump went ahead. Out of a stick of 20, 15 were injured, a couple of twisted ankles, various scrapes and bruises, and a broken leg. All this just to show-off in front of some Chiefs.

The Dakota now turned into a Casualty Evacuation aircraft and I requested a quick flight to New Sarum to organise the collection of all the injured paratroops. Wg/cdr  Keith Kemsley, OC Flying at Thornhill, was about to take off for New Sarum in a Vampire T11 jet fighter, so I hitched a ride.

Whilst we were travelling at low level and relatively high speed, the cockpit suddenly filled with smoke. Fortunately we were both on oxygen, so could still breathe and talk to each other. As far as I was concerned, this silly aeroplane was now a flying bomb, and the fire was directly under my ejection seat. I wanted to get out ASAP! But Keith more-or-less shrugged his shoulders at what he considered my over-reaction to a minor issue.

 I tightened all my straps, and even had thoughts of being able to claim a Caterpillar. The Caterpillar badge was first instituted in 1922, and is given to those who have saved their lives through the emergency use of a parachute to escape a disabled aircraft. It would almost be worth getting a singed arse if I could join the Caterpillar Club!

Despite declaring an emergency to Salisbury Tower, Keith was not so enthusiastic about this idea and was adamant there was nothing to worry about. By now my bum was red-hot and I was determined to eject. Caterpillar Club here I come!

But ever cool and calm, Keith would simply not co-operate and refused to get rid of the cockpit canopy. “Don’t worry,” I said, “ I’ll go through the bloody thing.” He assured me this was not a good idea - it was only one of the radios playing up. We managed to land OK and he was right. It was, in fact, only the radio. He must have thought I was a silly fool whose only thought was to abandon a perfectly safe little aeroplane for an unsafe ejection followed by an even less safe parachute trip. Still haven’t quite forgiven him for ruining my one-and-only opportunity to get that damn badge.

This photograph is of a Royal Rhodesian Air Force Vampire T11 and is the actual aircraft that gave me an anxious time
when I was convinced it was on fire. However it did give me a wonderful ride with a fantastic view of the Rhodesian countryside. Many thanks for the ride and the memories Keith Kemsley.

After taxiing into New Sarum I organised the medics and ambulances to take the injured to hospital as soon as the Dakota arrived. It was certainly a day of high drama and apart from the exciting trip home, illustrated to all the impact high ground winds could create on even the toughest soldiers

As demonstrated throughout this blog so far, including the little story above, the Rhodesian Air Force boasted some of the best and bravest pilots and support crew. We also had, in my opinion, the best aircraft ever.

The RRAF had eight Dakota aircraft when the Federation broke up in 1963. Southern Rhodesia acquired four and the other four were allocated to the other members of the Federation. In early 1964 these four Dakota aircraft were augmented with the purchase of another four from the South African Air Force making a total of only eight. This remained the case until Rhodesia became Zimbabwe in April 1980.

Only. Eight. On many occasions, however, these planes were put to such extensive use that there seemed to be far more of them about. It is a credit to this incredible aircraft and to the men of the Rhodesian Air Force, pilots, maintenance crew and engineers, that on dozens of parachuting sorties against terrorist bases in neighbouring countries, we were able to fly all eight of these magnificent aircraft at the same time.

When the PJIs were asked if we would like to have nice new C130 Hercules to jump from we  replied there was nothing a C130 could do that 3 Dakotas could not do better. (Alright, technically the C130 was quicker, could go higher and would be useful to drop big things.) The Dak was still the best.