1964. The day I propped up a DC-3 aircraft at Gatwick Airport and saved the day. Sort of …

In the summer of 1964, I worked for UTA French Airlines at Gatwick Airport, south of London.  We had a series of regular charter flights taking the sun-starved Brits to France.  And then one day, we had a very unusual flight.

The President of the former French colony of Togo, in West Africa, was coming on an official visit to the UK. He would arrive on an Air Togo aircraft from Paris on Monday afternoon and depart on Wednesday afternoon.  I was expected to be there.  I had never heard of Air Togo (and I was a 100% airline nerd) which was not surprising, as it did not exist.  UTA had found a DC-3 (think WW11) and had painted Air Togo on the side.  Air Togo was now in business.

I don’t know if there was something big at stake between Togo and the UK, as it became quite a massive production number.  The President and his good lady wife were to be met by Princess Alexandra and a whole assembly from the RAF were there on the tarmac and their official band and best of all, the regimental goat.  I kid you not.  Regiments had goats as mascots and they got to wear a sort of embroidered tabard draped over them too.

The aircraft arrives, the President et Madame descend and inspect the troops (and the goat too, which was probably being sized up for dinner) and we had both God Save the Queen and the Togolese national anthem and in to the big black limo they went.

Two days later we were to do it all in reverse.  The aircraft flew back from Paris.  They even had found a Togolese Captain and First officer.  I was there and all was falling in to place.  Suddenly I was asked by one of the crew to go to one of the wings, as they were going to do a test run of extending the flaps and I had to be there to hang on to them.  For those of you do not know what a DC-3 looks like, it basically not big and has a set of wheels under each wing and then one under the tail, which is tiny.  Thus, on the ground, it slopes down and back severely.  You can practically get in and out of the door without steps.

So, I stand there and the flap start to droop down and I bravely put my hands out and took some of the weight.  All was well, as suddenly it retracted back up again.  This had to be repeated on the side of the aircraft, which was parallel with the building.  So now all the RAF guys and the band and even the goat, were all watching me.   Just as the flap starts to come out, around the corner comes the big black limo and the RAF crash to attention and we have the national anthems again.  MY problem was that the flap had come down but was showing no sign of returning to its original position.    As some others later told me (once they had wiped their eyes many times), it looked like I was doing some Herculean act and propping up the aircraft.  I was terrified to let go, in case it all just came apart.

The President is looking at me.  The wife of the President is looking at me.  Various Brit royal flunkies are looking at me. All the RAF are looking at me. The goat is looking at me. I am a star.  I could see the staff I knew, who were inside the building, looking down on the scene and they were all in various positions that corresponded to uncontrolled mirth.   SO, very gently, I tried letting go of the flap to see what would happen and it just started to come down further.  Clearly I just could not let go.

My entire life flashed past my eyes while trying to look very nonchalant and ‘Don’t all DC-3’s have someone propping them up?   Suddenly the flap started to return and I let go pronto.

The President and his wife boarded and gave a semi-royal wave and the aircraft engines started in a rush of smoke and steam.   And I went down in Gatwick history as the man who propped up a DC-3 and saved the day.