79/80 were the last years for the ‘barges’ at Halton and I had a good few trips in them, as well as the T31’s.
The intructors would spin them off the top of the winch, maybe a thousand feet, but probably less. It seemed OK then, because when you are 15, you know no fear. That comes later!
It is funny the details one recalls, like the squashy perspex windscreens, and the big yellow release ball, not to mention the ‘bomb’, a concrete lump to be shoved in the front for maintaining the C of G with tiny cadets on board. The wing was 18 inches thick, and would be covered with flies at the end of a long day. Guess who had to wipe them off.
I remember the summer Sunday stillness on the grass airfield in the early evening, as we towed the gliders back to the huge canvas hangars, with the ‘chuff-chuff’ of the little tractor, and the distant bells of Weston Turville church just audible, as the shadows lengthened across the parched yellow grass. Happy days!
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