Tigercat

The beautiful 1943 Grumman Tigercat was the first twin-engined fighter in service with the US

Navy, designed for use on Midway-class carriers. It wasn't a very successful marque in that

respect, and few were built. This beauty was photographed at the WW2 Battle of Britain

airfield of Duxford, in Cambridgeshire, a few years ago, on the fateful day that the P-38

Lightning crashed. The crowd had been hearing the sweet music of the Merlins and

Gryphons as about a dozen Spitfires finished their display, sending up the hairs on the back of

one's neck. Next, a flight of Mitchells were taxiing towards the runway for take off. But

suddenly the runway was ablaze with flame and aircraft bits. The Lightning - up after the

Spitfires - had failed to complete a loop and had hit the deck at well over 200 mph. The

airshow went into slow motion - nobody seemed to move, and nobody quite knew what had

happened at first. But two pilots were now dead, and the runway was unusable; a wheel had

bounced through the side of a lorry on the nearby M11. There'd been a number of fatalities

at airshows recently, and some were arguing that it wasn't really an acceptable risk any

more...

A few weeks later, a Mk IX Spitfire, that most glorious of aircraft, crashed at another airshow,

somewhere in the West Country. And it was because of Ministry of Defence jitters over the

number of recent 'civilian' deaths that I wasn't allowed to fly to RAF Leuchars in Scotland in a

Tornado whilst making a film on the Empire Test Pilot's School at Boscombe Down. My pleas

("Please! Oh, please!") fell on deaf ears.

The beautiful 1943 Grumman Tigercat was the first twin-engined fighter in service with the US

Navy, designed for use on Midway-class carriers. It wasn't a very successful marque in that

respect, and few were built. This beauty was photographed at the WW2 Battle of Britain airfield

of Duxford, in Cambridgeshire, a few years ago, on the fateful day that the P-38 Lightning

crashed. The crowd had been hearing the sweet music of the Merlins and Gryphons as about a

dozen Spitfires finished their display, sending up the hairs on the back of one's neck. Next, a

flight of Mitchells were taxiing towards the runway for take off. But suddenly the runway was

ablaze with flame and aircraft bits. The Lightning - up after the Spitfires - had failed to complete

a loop and had hit the deck at well over 200 mph. The airshow went into slow motion - nobody

seemed to move, and nobody quite knew what had happened at first. But two pilots were now

dead, and the runway was unusable; a wheel had bounced through the side of a lorry on the

nearby M11. There'd been a number of fatalities at airshows recently, and some were arguing

that it wasn't really an acceptable risk any more...

A few weeks later, a Mk IX Spitfire, that most glorious of aircraft, crashed at another airshow,

somewhere in the West Country. And it was because of Ministry of Defence jitters over the

number of recent 'civilian' deaths that I wasn't allowed to fly to RAF Leuchars in Scotland in a

Tornado whilst making a film on the Empire Test Pilot's School at Boscombe Down. My pleas

("Please! Oh, please!") fell on deaf ears.