In the early days
of the Air Force in the Netherlands, the heather area of Soesterberg
was the place
where students-pilots were teached in the practice of flying.
For the first
time in the air with an instructor was an exciting experience for the young
men.
Flying between
the clouds, banking and curving, approach and landing exercises.
After fifty hours
or so, you have to go by yourself, practising over the field,
never allowed
to go to the far distance.
If you were not
too arrogant, then the day came that the instructor ordered you
to perform an
overland flight to one of the other air fields.
That was the
time you were waiting for so long.
Finding your
way in the sky, looking for landmarks, railways, rivers and places.
Looking for the
field to land on, watching the windsack and looking around for other aircraft.
Making a good
approach against the wind and performing a threepoint landing. This is
Flying!
Jon’s first Overland Flight.
After all those
little flights over and around the base, Jon was ordered by the captain
to take the old Fokker 107 to fly to Gilze-Rijen airbase in Noord Brabant.
For this first
overland Jon was so excited that he did not take maps for navigation. He
supposed he had enough knowledge about the topography of towns, villages,
roads and railways, that he could find Gilze-Rijen easily. After his take-off
he flew in the direction of Utrecht. Soon the town appeared and he made
a wide curve around: he might be forced to make an
emergency landing
but rather not in town!
Looking for the
Amsterdam-Rhine canal he headed for a
direction to
the South and there the canal was!
Now in the direction
of the wide rivers that cross Holland in the middle.
Look, overthere,
now heading south, following the canal he saw a little town on a railway
near a river. He descended to a low altitude, so he could read the name:
Zaltbommel.
Climbing again
he saw wonderful white clouds and it was exciting
to fly through
the gates between the clouds.
He curved and
played with the clouds but suddenly he did not see any landmarks. Spiralling
down he saw again a town at the river and he read the stations name: Zaltbommel
again…!
What he didn’t
know was, that a fair southern wind had pushed him back over the river.
Now he headed
for Tilburg in the province of Brabant. There he could follow
the railroad
that passes Gilze-Rijen airbase.
Yes, soon Tilburg
was found and the railways crossed in centre of town.
He followed the
branch and looking to the right he expected to see Gilze-Rijen soon.
However, a town
appeared at the horizon. Seemed to be larger than Tilburg or Breda. Was
he lost?
Down to low altitude
he tried to read the name of the railway station.
Oh my God! A
flag in Red, yellow and black and the name: "Turnhout". He had forgotten
that there is a railway from Tilburg to Turnhout in Belgium.
He was scared
and turned back immediately. Would there go an angry letter from the Belgian
Government to The Hague? In his imagination he saw already the headlines
in Belgian Newspapers: “Foreign
Military Aircraft Flies low over Turnhout!”
Back to Tilburg
and now he found the right line in Western direction and after a couple
of minutes he discovers the base with windsack at a distance.
He made a perfect
approach and threepoint landing. Than he went to the mess to have a strong
cup of coffee.
Waiting for a
more experienced pilot he took off after him and followed the old chap back
to Soesterberg.
No playing in
the clouds, no experiments. Back to base and telling nobody of his strange
adventure.