Post Script  - The Sabre Era - Marville, France   

The Sabre Era

 

 

Photo Source 439 Sqn Archives

Flying  any military aircraft in a potential war zone is a risky business  at the best of times and flying the Sabre was no different, as can be attested by the loss of several Sabre pilots , who flew  with 439 , and other  Canadian squadrons.

But at the worst of times, hindsight and humour often helped them to overcome  the recognized dangers and  risks involved, and the occasional necessity of  burying one of their own.

This can be best illustrated by the following "document" which I discovered in 439  archives during  research on this era. Although it is based on an actual incident., involving a deadly one-on-one between F/O RL Pope and an enemy bird of prey, the pilot's humorous recounting of the incident does not negate the seriousness of such an encounter. Today, we would call this "stress management".

The above pilot was leading a three plane section of Canadian Sabres in the vast uncharted regions of the Norwegian Northland when tragedy, suddenly and without warning, struck.  F/O Pope, ably flying as number one in the formation and keeping his keen eye on his lesser experienced wingmen, perceived in the distance, a surly seagull attacking him head on. From then on things started happening at a tremendous pace. Listen, as the pilot tells the story in his own words......

......I looked up suddenly seeing this mammoth bird right in front of my aircraft. I could see his huge wings outspread, his gaping beak open, and his razor like talons reaching for me.

I definitely was at a disadvantage; my poor Sabre was only flying at 300 knots. I hadn't even time to charge my 50 calibers and my radar sight failed to lock on the target. That artic albatross had tried to outwit me and it sure looked like he had.

Fortunately, my superb training and superior intellect took over, and the agile cunning fighter pilot that I was came to the fore. Instantly I pulled negative 2G and dove the aircraft .... that bird was a dead pigeon! I now had him right in my sights, and at a good closing distance of one foot I saw him hit!  I ducked my head and pulled up sharply at plus 8G so as to be sure of my victim.

I KNEW that I had him now, for he seemed to come right at me through the windscreen. I felt splintering glass falling all around me.... I WAS HIT ! Blood appeared as if by magic, all over me. This looked like the end.

Quickly I went through my emergency check list: runup check, fire check, pre-start check, and a Traveller's check. Through my bloodshot eyes I could see an airfield just ahead. Could I reach it? I lowered my landing gear and headed straight for the end of the runway, slowed to approach speed, and made my usual graceful landing, clutching all the while my prize to my bosom.

Yes, F/O Pope deserves a GOOD SHOW award for his excellence and skill displayed in averting what might have been an even longer stay in the artic.

 

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Post Script  - The Sabre Era - Marville, France