the aircraft were drawn full size in red paint on a grey rough surface. This included drawing the position of thousands of rivets according to measurements defined in the Stress Office. It took two weeks to position the rivets in the fuselage keel structure. One day, a white-faced stressman came to speak to my Section Leader. Upon his departure, I was instructed to remove all of my rivet positions and redraw them in accordance with revised stress calculations. After more weeks drawing all those


red crosses, I felt overawed going into the main DO where there were hundreds of draughtsmen, each at their old-fashioned drawing boards. The DO was divided into various sections covering all the equivalent elements of the aircraft. The work level seemed unhurried and took some years to complete. However, when a particular aspect was judged to be on the ‘critical path’, the relevant DO section became frantically busy, with more draughtsmen brought in to assist. My job was the detailed drawings of the three innermost wing ribs, having a general construction similar to the adjacent fuselage structure as can be seen on the museum’s VC10 fuselage. This drawing experience enabled me to design and draw, 38 years later, the aluminium monocoque body for my ’33 Riley special.


During my apprenticeship, we were


treated to talks about important subjects, two of which remain clearly in my mind. The first was by a senior engineer, ‘Spud’ Borer, who had worked directly for Barnes Wallis and gave us a fascinating account of the Swallow aircraft. The other talk had a fundamental effect on my life. It was from the manager of the Technical Sales Department, actually called the Civil Aircraft Development Group (CADG), as it had been formed to prepare the cabin layouts for all the Viscount customers. His talk gave an account of the sales trips which were mostly overseas. The aspect of the CADG talk that gripped me the most was that it was the first time I had heard of aircraft talked of as a complete entity. Of course, I knew hundreds of people who spoke about the details but not the whole aircraft. This prompted me to apply to the Apprentice Training School management for a transfer. Despite many weeks of trying I got no response because CADG was considered to be ‘something to do with seats’ and not worthy of consideration for my progress. However, one day I read an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph for a Junior Technical Sales Engineer. I applied,


Malcolm helped draw modifications to the Viscount’s airframe to prevent gust locks seizing the controls at altitude


was interviewed and appointed. This meant the last year of my apprenticeship and the first of formal employment overlapped by a year. It was very enjoyable to train and work alongside the salesmen. My job was preparation of specific route and cost studies for specific airlines, including Pakistan International Airways for the VC10 and a smaller ‘paper aircraft’, the VC11. This was when Vickers-Armstrong (Aircraft), the Bristol Aeroplane Company and Hunting Aircraft merged to become the British Aircraft Corporation. This merger prompted a major market research exercise with all the technical and senior salesmen disappearing for quite a while to conduct this study. Then something happened which led me to regret it afterwards. I was offered a management trainee appointment by the father of a friend to work in his family business. I was very flattered and it coincided with my assessment that only BOAC and its subsidiaries would order the VC10, and the Vanguard would be produced only for BEA and Air Canada. The reason was the sheer strength of the Boeing 707 business


strategy with PanAm. Also, government politics and interference in the aviation industry was of great concern to me, as evidenced by the TSR2 saga and its cancellation. Therefore, I made the decision to leave. I did not ask, nor was I told, that the outcome of the major market research exercise was to define the BAC 111. Had I known this, I would have stayed. Nevertheless, my career was one of selling a wide range of engineering products, ending with a total of 25 years at Westland Helicopters and during which I became a Brooklands Trust Museum member. Before I left Vickers-Armstrong, the company had an imaginative arrangement with the Fairoaks Flying Club at Chobham. Those of us lucky enough to be selected received a 95% subsidy to learn to fly and during the summer of 1959 I received my Private Pilots Licence. Of the 10 Tiger Moths there, I flew six of them. The next year, I learned to fly an Auster when the subsidy was only 90%. Working at Brooklands provided the foundations of my career and my passion for exciting old machinery.


SEPTEMBER – OCTOBER 2019 | BROOKLANDS BULLETIN 39


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