I wonder how many aviation enthusiasts out there looked forward with eager anticipation to the latest Sunday evening wartime TV epic. After all the hoo-ha about the effort expended to produce authentic flying shots, etc, the eventual ridiculous, and unintentionally humorous, sit-com must have been a great disappointment to many. If the intention was to produce a drama series, then why not use suitably edited archive film supplemented by a few recordings and fleeting shadows across upturned faces?
All that would then have been required would have been a few believable - and preferably likable - characters and it could all have been a huge success. I cannot help feeling that in any real RAF squadron, the canine mascot would have met with a nasty accident within an hour of arrival!
Errors which can only be spotted by the well informed enthusiast are probably acceptable. However, I am sure that even the dimmest viewer is aware that Spitfires do not take off with pointed fins and then fly around the sky with rounded ones. Neither do they land with round surfaces and taxi in with pointed ones. This is simple 'continuity' in the trade. The enthusiast will be well aware that Mark IX's did not exist in 1939. Incidentally, 'continuity' also covers such obvious things as Americans with Canadian accents.
This is being written after just two episodes have been shown, one wonders what the other four have in store. Episode two featured an aircraft with a four bladed wooden propeller which mysteriously suffered a failure of all four blades at exactly the same radius. Since someone must have gone to the trouble of producing a dummy broken prop, surely it would not have been too much effort to make it look like an early wooden two blader. Mind you, I still wouldn't believe it!
We will forgive them for the fact that we could plainly see the prop turning during the resulting 'deadstick' landing. Perhaps someone could explain how the aircraft managed to approach over the 'chateau' and then roll to a stop in front of it. A deadstick taxying 180 degree turn?
Having gone to the trouble and expense of assembling five airworthy Spitfires, together with suitable pilots and locations, what a shame that it could not have resulted in something better. I understand that the book on which the series is based was originally about a Hurricane squadron. Perhaps we should all thank them for not finding five airworthy Hurricanes! After all, the much over-rated 'Spit' can stand some bad publicity.
Having just watched episode three, consider the following:
Young pilot departs for 7 days leave. Some of the squadron are then sent off on a 4 day survival course from which some of them return 3 days late. Now 4 plus 3 equals 7 (doesn't it?), but whats this, our young friend is not back from his leave yet. Tut, tut.
Perhaps I have got it all wrong and it is meant to be funny. The title of the series does, after all, suggest that someone has either a sense of humour or a gift for the inappropriate. Authenticity is never a piece of cake, though continuity should be.
On the subject of TV aviation, it is difficult for even this idiosyncratic mind to criticise the BBC 'Reaching for the skies' series, which should just about be ending when you read this.
It is no reflection on the series itself that the first programme should have been heavily dedicated to the myth that the Wright brothers made the first powered flight. Perhaps we should take a charitable view and assume that the submergence of the achievements of Gustave Whitehead is a natural procedure rather than a deliberate plot to sustain the American dream. It really would be difficult to change history at this late stage.
There seems to be very little real doubt that the man made several long flights in the Pitsburg area in 1896/7, or that the Wrights visited him on several occasions. So, what the hell, he was American wasn't he. Anyway, the Wrights themselves had lots of trouble convincing anyone that they had done it until someone in Europe began attracting publicity.
Returning to the TV series, I would have liked to have seen a little more about the airship R100. The average viewer probably gained the impression that the R100 was another failure, rather than the resounding success that it was. Rather than a few shots of it being broken up, it might have been better to show nothing at all.
We seem to be so anxious to tell the world about our failures and so reluctant to brag about our successes. It just goes to show that this column is a true reflection of the British character.
I always find that magazine columns become very confusing at this time of year. This is being written in mid-October for the January issue which should be with you just in time for Christmas. See what I mean?
Being the January issue, it would be proper to look forward to the new year and, perhaps, make a few resolutions. On the other hand, the seasons greetings would be more appropriate. Neither of which seems to be very apt at the moment, when we are still lying to ourselves about the time and calling it BST!
It is very similar to the situation, in January, where we are all writing about those technological breakthroughs which always seem to be a feature of the April issue - so that you can read it in March! Makes it very hard to get into the true spirit of things, at times. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
What this is leading up to is a few thoughts about all those bi-monthly specialist magazines which are appearing of late. This could be a recipe for total confusion among the editorial staff (most of whom have little, or no, editorial experience and are part-time anyway - which should make things even worse). Mind you, the average reader probably finds it so difficult to keep track of just when they should appear that he wouldn't notice if one didn't, anyway.
One of the periodicals (a word which takes on more meaning in this context) in question has now given up dating each issue and just gives it a number. It might be a good idea if they put an advert in one of the national dailies every so often to inform everyone what the current, or latest, number is. How will we know when they go out of business?
Another example dates the issues with such titles as 'late spring' or 'early autumn' (wake up, Woody Herman fans). This year, or next, one wonders.
So how about an annual magazine? Publishing date could be anywhere within the appropriate year. Leave off the year from the cover and even that need not be too critical. The editorial would consist of New Year greetings and the text could progress to Startling Developments (about a third of the way through) and end up with Xmas greetings. Editorial staff could vary from year to year, as could the style, which would suit some organisations(?) nicely. When it appears, remember that you saw it first in Radio Modeller!
Oh yes, Merry Christmas! I'll save the happy new year bit until November.