The pilot and I looked at each other wondering what had just happened. The aircraft flew on as normal but I could detect an increase in vibration mainly by looking at the instruments. One of these, a basic temperature gauge was vibrating more than normal and I decided to look through my missile aimer's scope which was like a pair of binoculars. This confirmed that indeed there was extra vibration present. The pilot suggested that it might have been a sonic boom from an aircraft high above us but none were in the vicinity. I suggested the aircraft's gearbox. It was then that he requested an emergency landing on the nearest vessel with a flight deck. RFA Olna was visible and minutes away.
The landing went as normal. An engineer was dispatched and winched down to Olna using Falmouth's Wasp helicopter. He did a few tests and took oil samples but could find nothing so we flew back to Lowestoft where further tests were carried out. Nothing was found but I knew deep down inside that the gearbox was faulty. I tried to tell the flight crew and the pilot but no one would take me seriously. They even sent and engineer up in 451 to check out the scope but he returned saying it was fine. I knew it had changed dramatically. I was given a direct order to fly in 451 so I had no choice. My nerves were frayed.
Flying continued as normal but when we were asked to identify a large Russian warship on the horizon, I was unable to do so since the scope was vibrating too much. It was the Cold War years and I hate to think of how many missiles must have been locked on to us before we got too close.
Years later I found out that this ship was the USSR Leningrad, the flagship of the Soviet Union.
Lt Kidd, the pilot, was fond of doing excessive acrobatic manoeuvres with the helicopter such as stall turns which made me even more nervous. The helicopter just kept on flying as normal but when HMS Falmouth's Wasp ditched into the sea and was a complete wreck, the crew surviving, they requested to borrow ours. It was then that I had many mixed emotions. What if it should crash. I would feel responsible but I was not taken seriously.
For some days I had to live with this possibility until shockingly a message came through that 451 had actually crashed on the flight deck of the Falmouth. Miraculously, the aircraft had sustained no damage and had made a heavy landing on the deck when the gearbox had failed. Yes the gearbox!
Nothing was ever mentioned about this incident in relation to me suspecting that this was the problem but nevertheless, I was completely vindicated.
I would never have made a good aircrew man though and indeed after this incident and others such as metal fatigue that later that led me to be reverted back to Radio Operator.
