Wimbush's Luck by John Malone

Wimbush’s Luck

"You still seem inordinately proud of that little tin cup of yours, Wimbush. Does it possess magic powers?"

"I’m hoping so, Barker. I’ll probably need a lucky talisman over there in France. But you still sound envious. Are you?"

In reply, Barker shies his pillow at Wimbush’s head, missing. "See, Barker? It’s working already!"

Ever since losing the race Barker has kept up a badinage about Wimbush’s trophy, superficially good-natured, but with undertones of bitterness. Wimbush wonders if Barker is still hoping for a chance to even the score somehow. The rivalry soon re-emerges as the two accumulate hours of instruction and practice in the ungainly MF7 "Longhorn" flight trainers. Then, a few days ahead of Barker, Wimbush is cleared for solo flight. On the 23rd of August, having accumulated a total of 353 hours at the controls, Wimbush takes his final qualifying flight with his instructor in an old MF7 and is certified ready for advanced training in fighting aeroplanes. He is confirmed in his rank as a Probationary Flight Sub-Lieutenant and is given a week’s leave to visit his family at 13 Pembroke Gardens in Kensington before reporting to RNAS Chingford for advanced training.

One evening during his leave, after rather a lot of Champagne at the Elysée Restaurant in Picadilly, where they watch a cabaret performance by a handsome young dancer named Noel Coward, Wimbush and his sweetheart, Barbara Archer, become engaged. She loves the way he looks in his smart navy blue uniform with the gold braid on the sleeves. He loves the way she kisses.

As it happens, Chingford Naval Air Station is on the northern outskirts of London, only fourteen miles from Wimbush’s home in Kensington. He will be able to get weekend passes to go home, spend Saturday evenings dancing, drinking and kissing with Barbara and enjoy his Dad’s good claret and a thick slice of his Mum’s Sunday joint before going back to egg and chips with beans at the Chingford mess.

Even before arriving at Chingford, Wimbush has heard a lot about the revolutionary new Sopwith Triplane he and the others would be flying there. Nothing quite like it has ever been built for military purposes. The Triplane layout was adopted in order to give the pilot the widest possible field of vision, and to ensure maneuverability. The central wing is level with the pilot's eyes and obscures very little of his view, and the narrow chord of all the mainplanes ensures that the top and bottom wings interfere less with his outlook than the wings of a biplane. The narrow chord aids maneuverability, for the shift of the center of pressure with changes of incidence is comparatively small; this permits the use of a short fuselage. At the same time, the distribution of the wing area over three mainplanes keeps the span short and confers a high rate of roll. The Triplane has a maximum speed of 117 mph at 5,000 ft. and can stay in the air for 2 ¾ hours without refueling. Its service ceiling is 20,500 ft. It carries only one synchronized Vickers .303 machine gun mounted centrally on top of the fuselage, firing forward.

The prototype Triplane, serial N500, first flies on the 28^th of May, 1916, with Harry Hawker, a Sopwith test pilot, at the controls. Within three minutes of takeoff, Hawker startles onlookers by looping the aircraft three times in succession, the daring “triple loop” maneuver. The Triplane is very agile, with effective, well-harmonised controls. When maneuvering, however, the Triplane presents an unusual appearance. One observer notes that the aircraft looks like "a drunken flight of steps" when rolling.

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Wimbush’s Luck

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