Memories of XR728 - 'MY' LIGHTNING by Air Cdre J S spencer

When I took command of XI(F) Squadron on 8th April 1982, XR728 had preceded me by a couple of months and was already the bearer of the BA code designating the CO's aircraft, but now I had the enormous pleasure of seeing my name on her side. I had my last trip in XR728, now sporting my initials on her fin, on an Air Combat Training (ACT) sortie on 13th June 1988. In a way I was sorry that my last Lightning flight was not to be in XR728, but that would have been selfish. Far better that she should end her days in pampered retirement at Bruntingthorpe.

During those six years or so we often flew together and my log book records over 100 sorties, more than I flew in any other Mk. 6, varying from the mundane practice interceptions to the vastly more exhilarating ACT and including a fair number of formation displays. Whether as BA or JS I always preferred being in XR728 when we were showing off to the public; after all she was 'my' aircraft.

Air Combat Training

Air displays were fun, but ACT was my chief delight and I remember one particular sortie that gave me bitter-sweet pleasure. In early 1988 the Tornado F.3s at Coningsby were working-up prior to taking over from the Lightnings and on a fine April day I was programmed to fly as a singleton against two of them. At this time the F.3 radar was having teething troubles but nevertheless it could 'see' a lot further than could the Lightning's, and the F.3 had a far better overall weapons fit. It was therefore necessary to develop some sneaky tactics to ensure the right result.

Strapping in before the sortie, I mentally rehearsed the opening moves as I waited for the Tornadoes to pass overhead from Coningsby en route to the training area. As they did so I started the engines, taxied out, and took off some five minutes later; this way we could set up the combat without wasting fuel.

After checking in with ground radar control, I was told the F.3's were about 50 miles ahead, and after a little positioning they turned in and the game was on. I thought the Tornadoes would probably come in at 5 or 10 thousand feet, so I chose 7,500 feet to give the necessary height separation. Closing in at about 20 miles a minute, it didn't take long for the 50 mile separation to reduce. At 15 miles, 45 seconds away, I selected reheat and pulled into a steep climb, switching off my radar transmitter to avoid them homing in on it, and dropped some chaff hoping to confuse their radar picture. At 25,000 feet I rolled inverted, and levelled off upside down at 30,000 feet. All this had taken about 30 seconds, and as I looked down through the top of the canopy I spotted the F.3's sliding past well below me.

Gentle pressure on the control column put me into a diving attack in their 6 o'clock high position, making it very difficult for them to see me-and they didn't. I slipped in behind the left-hand F.3 and simulated a missile launch right in the heart of the firing envelope, before I was seen by the other one. I transmitted a 'FOX 2 KILL' call, which was relayed to my victim and who was thus out of the fight.

The second Tornado had pulled up in a steep climbing turn to engage me, which suited me fine, as the higher we fought the more apparent the Lightning's superior performance and manoeuverability would become. With this superiority, it wasn't long before he was nicely in the gunsight at about 300 yards range, and I called a 'FOX 3 KILL' to finish the combat. Feeling highly pleased with myself, we set up for another run...and the same thing happened again! By then of course the Lightning's Achilles Heel, shortage of fuel, asserted itself and so I had to go home, leaving two rather unhappy F.3's in my wake.

Of course, since then the F.3 has been modified and improved and the same tactics would not work now; nevertheless, it was good to know that even as its long and distinguished front-line service was coming to an end the Lightning could still hold its own.

Of the numerous displays we did, two stand out vividly. The first was the Queen's Birthday flypast on 11th June 1983. The Lightnings, four of us, were to bring up the rear behind similar formations of Tornadoes, Buccaneers and Jaguars. For fuel reasons we deployed to Wattisham and the idea was for us to rendezvous just south of the airfield with the rest of the 'balbo'.

The rehearsal went without a hitch, and on the day itself the weather over London was fine and clear. However, over East Anglia where we were going to form up into the 16-ship, the weather was awful-low cloud and rain with poor visibility. Well, the Tornadoes and Buccaneers got airborne from Marham and formed up together without problems, before plunging into the clag heading south to pick up the Jaguars and then us; unfortunately, the Jaguars never did find the formation and had to return to Coltishall.

I had set up the Lightnings in a racetrack pattern just north of Wattisham to await the formation. Cloud was forcing us lower and lower, and I wasn't too happy trying to pick up the formation on radar whilst trying to avoid cloud and navigate around the racetrack in lousy visibilty.

The Tornado formation leader kept us well-informed of his position, which he had fixed with his inertial navigation system, but less welcome was the news that he was in cloud at 500 feet. Eventually, I caught what I thought was a glimpse of the formation on radar and turned in hard to take up a position at the rear, but I still couldn't see them visually.

Now, as it happens I enjoy close formation work, especially leading, and this was really why I had insisted that the four of us should have lots and lots of practice, despite the mutterings of those who had not been picked to take part. It certainly paid dividends on the day, as with both skill and faith (probably misplaced), my team hung on for grim death as I gyrated around the Essex countryside trying to find the Tornado/Buccaneer combination.

Eventually the weather cleared somewhat and, more by good luck than good management, we found ourselves in more or less the right position and were able to close up into the correct formation before we started our run-in to the Palace.

So far so good, but all our darting around over Essex had used up our fuel reserves and we were somewhat short when we arrived back over Wattisham, to find that, if anything, the weather had become even worse. Air Traffic had a plan to separate us into two pairs for GCA's, but we didn't have the fuel for this and so I decided on a visual recovery. Luckily my No. 3, Jake Jarron, knew Wattisham well, and so after groping our way to the airfield we broke from close box formation and Jake led us around the circuit, over the church, the garage, the local pub, Farmer Jones' oil-seed rape field and on to the runway. The first beers went down well that evening.

I was reminded of The Queen's Birthday Flypast as the date of the Last, Last Lightning Show drew near. Three days before the event, we had our final rehearsal in the form of a Press Day. The weather was perfect: warm, not too much wind and splendid visibility, and everything went like clockwork. That was on Wednesday 19th August 1987 and over the next two days we watched closely as a series of weather fronts threatened an unpleasant change. However, on the evening of Friday 21st, the met. man assured me that the last front would pass through overnight and the weather would be fine on the day.

I awoke on the 22nd to the pattering of raindrops against the window and the message from the philosophical met. man that a wave had developed on the last front and we were in for a wet day. This time he was right!

As the start of the Flying Display drew near, which my Lightning formation was due to open, the cloud-base measuring equipment went on the blink. It is notoriously difficult to assess cloud-base from the ground and as I needed at least 3,500 feet for the display, I was reluctant to find out the hard way what the actual base was. From the ground it looked about 1500 feet, so I decided that we would open the display with the solo Lightning doing his bad-weather show. Jon Fynes put on his usual splendid performance and reported a cloud-base of some 4,000 feet, which was good enough for me.

Jake Jarron, who had led us around the Wattisham circuit during The Queen's Birthday Flypast, was the display controller and he quickly reorganised the programme to fit us in. With the rain becoming heavier if anything, we manned the eleven Lightnings and prepared to take-off.

All went well at first and the humid air caused nice visible wingtip vortices to mark the aircraft as we took off at ten second intervals along Runway 21. A right turn, 60o bank, holding the speed at 350 knots, brought us back across the runway towards the crowd, before selecting reheat and rotating at 6g into a near vertical climb to 3,000 feet. Rolling over on to my back and pulling down to avoid the cloud, I headed off towards Mablethorpe to form up the Diamond Nine formation.

As I made my way towards the RV, the cloud lowered and the visibility worsened markedly. However, the rest of the chaps followed each other and took up their places in the formation without much problem. Over Mablethorpe we turned left on to a northerly heading, making our way towards the Humber estuary. It was like flying in a goldfish bowl, with sea and sky a uniformly greyish colour and visibility now really poor. I picked out the estuary on my radar as we groped our way up the coast, and highlighted the turn-in point just north of Immingham.

We were then asked to make a delaying orbit as the display before ours was running a bit late. With nine aircraft in close formation in cloud, this was not the most pleasant thing to do, but our previous practices proved their worth and the chaps hung in well and held their positions. I picked up the turn-in point again on radar and with help from Binbrook ATC we turned in, hoping that we were on the right track, as even at 500 feet I still could not see the ground. Gradually during the run-in the weather improved, and suddenly I could see the runway standing out wet and black against the green countryside. Thereafter it was plain sailing, we flew past pulling streamers from the wingtips, and as we turned away the two singletons came roaring through at high speed, almost lost in clouds of vapour.

In retrospect, the Last, Last Lightning Show was the most memorable I flew in XR728, but at the time I was working too hard to really appreciate the experience.

XR728 was always a lady, she never let me down and I never caused her any discomfort either, although some less caring pilots did! She had her own quirks, occasionally at low level the cockpit conditioning would stick on hot and at high level on cold, but the Lightning engendered an affection in its pilots that few other aircraft did, and if the noble lineage of British fighters had to end, then it could have no better conclusion than the Lightning. XR728 is a fine example of that thoroughbred line.