down toFarnborough to talk it over with the Director, if you could spare this copy for a few days?”
“That’s all right,” he said.
I went on. “Well, sir—about this suggestion that’s been made about tailplane fatigue. You’ll hear from us officially in the next day or two, if we want anything done. My present feeling—what I shall advise the Director—is that we should send an officer out there at once to make an examination of this broken tailplane spar.” His face darkened; I opened the report and showed him the photograph. “This one. As the port tail was missing altogether we can’t rule out this theory that has arisen. Of course, if it should be proved that fatigue is present in these aircraft at such an early stage, it’s a matter of the greatest urgency to put it right.”
I stared down at the photograph before us; it was horrible. “We don’t want another one like this,” I said.
Fisher said stiffly, “If you really think that necessary after the very careful investigation that has been already made, I suppose Ottawa can arrange it. If it comes at our request, of course, financial sanction will be necessary; these expeditions to out-of-the-way places like this are very costly, you know. It’s in a dollar area, too, so the Secretariat will have to submit the matter to the Treasury. But if you people insist upon it, I suppose it can all be arranged.”
“I can only state my own view, sir,” I said. “I think it’s necessary and a matter of great urgency. That’s what I shall tell the Director; I can’t say, of course, what he’ll decide. But I should like to see an officer on his way to Ottawa tomorrow, or the day after, at the latest.”
“It all seems rather ridiculous,” he grumbled. “The matter was most carefully gone into.”
I did not want to argue it with him, and I had given him warning of what was coming, as was only fair. I said good-bye and left the office with Ferguson. He was rather amused; in the corridor outside the office he turned to me, and grinned. “He’s putting up a good fight,” he said. “He knows all the tricks. He’ll run round to the Secretariat tonight and tell them that your journey isn’t really necessary.”
“He wouldn’t do a thing like that,” I said. I was a little worried at the mere suggestion. “He’s a good old stick—I’ve known him for years. And this thing concerns the lives of people in the air. He wouldn’t want to see another stinking crash like this.”
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Ferguson replied. “But you see—he thinks you’re absolutely wrong and just kicking up a stink in his department irresponsibly. People believe what they want to believe.”
I got back to Farnborough too late to see the Director. I went home with the report under my arm, tired and depressed by what had been my reading for the day. I was due to read my paper on the “Performance Analysis of Aircraft flying at High Mach Numbers” on the following Thursday, the first paper that I had been asked to read before a learned society. When I got home I found that the advance printed copy of this thing had arrived, and that Shirley had been reading it all afternoon. She had taken it upstairs to show to Mrs. Peters in the flat above; it was a great thing for us, because it was the first distinction we had managed to collect since we were married. Fingering it and turning over the pages, and discussing with Shirley the cuts that I would make when reading it, served as an anodyne; it took my mind off the Reindeer misery, so that I slept fairly well.
I went down to see the Director first thing next morning. I showed him the Reindeer accident report, and told him all about my interviews with Group-Captain Fisher. “In spite of what he says, I think we ought to send somebody out there,” I remarked. “I should like to see an officer from here sent out by air straight away, sir, to make a metallurgical report on that spar fracture.”
“I think
“That’s all right,” he said.
I went on. “Well, sir—about this suggestion that’s been made about tailplane fatigue. You’ll hear from us officially in the next day or two, if we want anything done. My present feeling—what I shall advise the Director—is that we should send an officer out there at once to make an examination of this broken tailplane spar.” His face darkened; I opened the report and showed him the photograph. “This one. As the port tail was missing altogether we can’t rule out this theory that has arisen. Of course, if it should be proved that fatigue is present in these aircraft at such an early stage, it’s a matter of the greatest urgency to put it right.”
I stared down at the photograph before us; it was horrible. “We don’t want another one like this,” I said.
Fisher said stiffly, “If you really think that necessary after the very careful investigation that has been already made, I suppose Ottawa can arrange it. If it comes at our request, of course, financial sanction will be necessary; these expeditions to out-of-the-way places like this are very costly, you know. It’s in a dollar area, too, so the Secretariat will have to submit the matter to the Treasury. But if you people insist upon it, I suppose it can all be arranged.”
“I can only state my own view, sir,” I said. “I think it’s necessary and a matter of great urgency. That’s what I shall tell the Director; I can’t say, of course, what he’ll decide. But I should like to see an officer on his way to Ottawa tomorrow, or the day after, at the latest.”
“It all seems rather ridiculous,” he grumbled. “The matter was most carefully gone into.”
I did not want to argue it with him, and I had given him warning of what was coming, as was only fair. I said good-bye and left the office with Ferguson. He was rather amused; in the corridor outside the office he turned to me, and grinned. “He’s putting up a good fight,” he said. “He knows all the tricks. He’ll run round to the Secretariat tonight and tell them that your journey isn’t really necessary.”
“He wouldn’t do a thing like that,” I said. I was a little worried at the mere suggestion. “He’s a good old stick—I’ve known him for years. And this thing concerns the lives of people in the air. He wouldn’t want to see another stinking crash like this.”
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Ferguson replied. “But you see—he thinks you’re absolutely wrong and just kicking up a stink in his department irresponsibly. People believe what they want to believe.”
I got back to Farnborough too late to see the Director. I went home with the report under my arm, tired and depressed by what had been my reading for the day. I was due to read my paper on the “Performance Analysis of Aircraft flying at High Mach Numbers” on the following Thursday, the first paper that I had been asked to read before a learned society. When I got home I found that the advance printed copy of this thing had arrived, and that Shirley had been reading it all afternoon. She had taken it upstairs to show to Mrs. Peters in the flat above; it was a great thing for us, because it was the first distinction we had managed to collect since we were married. Fingering it and turning over the pages, and discussing with Shirley the cuts that I would make when reading it, served as an anodyne; it took my mind off the Reindeer misery, so that I slept fairly well.
I went down to see the Director first thing next morning. I showed him the Reindeer accident report, and told him all about my interviews with Group-Captain Fisher. “In spite of what he says, I think we ought to send somebody out there,” I remarked. “I should like to see an officer from here sent out by air straight away, sir, to make a metallurgical report on that spar fracture.”
“I think
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