RED 8

By Brian SpurwayAirframes


Even as a child I never kept a diary but, now in my eighties with rapidly diminishing memories, how I wish that I had. Fortunately, as aircrew, I had to record all of my flying in my log book/s; I often included little bits of additional detail about a flight and maybe even a photo or two thus turning the log book into a diary of sorts. One such flight recorded was, without any doubt, the most exhilarating one of all and, oddly enough, I was just a passenger – I recorded it lasting just twenty minutes and entered that figure in the “Spare” column so that it was never counted amongst my total flying hours. It took place at RAF Church Fenton – some reading this may have been stationed there, possibly even when this fight took place.

On 18 June 1977, with a basic crew of five, we had flown Hercules XV202 – I mention this registration deliberately – from RAF Lyneham to RAF Kemble and then on to Aberdeen airport – once known as RAF Dyce – for its 1977 air display; after this we flew on to Prestwick for its air display. After a night stop at Prestwick we flew on to Church Fenton for its air display and then to RAF Honington for its before returning to Lyneham via Kemble.

We didn’t actually fly in any of these displays but, at each one, we parked alongside other aircraft with our freight doors open to allow the public on board – and for us to answer questions; our main task had been to support the Red Arrows by carrying their ground crew and equipment from RAF Kemble to all these venues.

At some stage during our stay at Prestwick – probably during the inevitable “Meet & Greet” laid on by the “Reds”- I had mentioned the possibility of a flight; who amongst those at the party picked up on my request I have no idea but, at Church Fenton the following afternoon, one of the team’s “Circus” members came to our aircraft and presented me with his “bone dome” and his oxygen mask - ‘Come along with me Sir, we’ve got a hot seat waiting for you!’ And that is how I found myself being ceremoniously strapped into the back seat of the diminutive red Gnat XR977 – again I deliberately mention its registration. In the front seat was Richie Thomas, then a Flt Lt, who subsequently went on to lead the team and, I believe, eventually retire as a Gp Capt; he was then flying as Red 8 in the formation, one of the more mobile elements of the display.

Taxying out in turn with the other jets I was made well aware of several things: how bloody small the cockpit was and how close my bum was to the ground – it felt rather like, I imagine, how sitting on a fast moving roller-skate would feel, then there was the crowd as we taxied along in front of them, their hands waving furiously or pointing huge lenses at us. Richie came up on the i/c and said ‘You can do the waving, I’m busy - and I hope your nice white gloves are clean!?’ I replied with something along the lines of ‘What, a Flt Eng with clean gloves, doesn’t happen you know!’

Suddenly we were belting down the ‘drag’ surrounded by other red jets, airborne and into what can only be described as the most “out of this world” experience I have ever had – the movement was continuous, the g loadings – although not as high as those I would experience later in life – came on and off as we carried out the various loops, rolls, and formation changes that, from the ground, always appear to be so precise; our closeness to the other jets was incredible but the movement relative to them, not noticed from afar, was striking – as were the occasional expletives coming from my man in the front. I was very conscious of the air brake, throttle and flap levers brushing against my left thigh whenever Richie moved them, and he certainly moved them a lot – a fatal accident that occurred at Kemble on 3 Mar the following year was judged to have – most likely - been caused by the inadvertent movement of such a control lever by the rear-seat occupant at the time, a Wg Cdr who just happened to be an ex Red Arrow’s team leader. This accident led to stringent restrictions being applied and, although I did several more support flights, the opportunity to fly with them again was out of the question.

One of the various manoeuvres that were part of the Red Arrow’s display at that time – I think it was removed fairly soon after my flight – was named ‘Piccadilly Circus’: after a full nine ship downward break each Gnat flew out on its individual radial for a certain time then turned through 180˚and either climbed or descended to its designated height whilst heading back in so that all nine jets crossed above the display centre at exactly the same time – I have no idea what the vertical separation was but it sure as Hell was impressive from where I was sitting.

Then the display reached its finale as we dived into the well-known, and well recognised, ‘Bomb Burst’, with red, white and blue smoke on; always raises the hairs on the back of one’s neck. As it happened we, as Red 8, pulled out of the dive directly above our Hercules and I had a fairly close up view of the rest of its crew sitting on its upper surfaces enjoying the show – but not as much as I was, that’s for sure!. We then headed off and away from the display area to lead a line astern formation ready for individual landings – not done in formation as it is these days. A few rapid rolls – and, my, my, how a Gnat can roll – to lose a bit of speed, then a quick pull onto finals as No.1 to land, but NO! It can’t be! As Richie looked up to gain the threshold there in front of us was a double decked bus – or was it single decked, can’t recall for sure, although my remaining image is double decked – the expletive from the front was now the loudest and most heart-felt of all as Richie aborted his landing and pulled away to re-join at the “rear of the queue”; he was certainly not a “happy bunny”. The extra fuel used by throwing on full power to go round again must have been a serious concern for Richie as I’m sure something like that would not have been expected. If anyone was ever stationed at Church Fenton you would probably know just where that bus was; the road it was on must have been very close to that particular runway’s threshold so surely there must have been traffic lights positioned to prevent such an occurrence.


After retiring from BA, when I volunteered with DeltaJets at Kemble, I did have the very doubtful privilege of working on the Gnat; they had two restored examples and - my apologies to anyone whose views may differ – I didn’t like doing so one little bit. I found it to be a difficult little beast to work on, particularly as a ‘rigger’!

(Images: XV202, Air-Britain Photographic Images Collection & XR977, RAF Museum Cosford.