It was July 1942 and Number 208 Squadron was located at Landing Ground 100 in Egypt. It had been another hot uncomfortable day. The sun was beating down over the arid Egyptian landscape, as it had done for some weeks past, but for the groundcrew who had been swarming over the Hurricane since early morning, it had seemed especially intense. They were anticipating finishing the job, so they could wind down with an evening meal and a rest in the shade. The Hurricane, now nearing the end of its "Forty Double Star" inspection, had been promised to be back with the Advance Flight at Burg el-Arab by that evening.
Two weeks earlier, the enemy had broken through the British lines, making it necessary for the Squadron to move back. The push had coincided with a full moon, which had brought increased enemy air activity during the night, resulting in damage to equipment and aircraft on the ground. This placed an extra urgency on the need for a rapid turn-round of repairs and inspections in order to keep the flights at operational strength, because now there were no spare aircraft and no spare capacity in the system. The armourers were,
having completed the alignment of the eight Brownings, replacing the gun cover panels. "Lofty" Wright, the "fabric basher" had fixed the patches over the gun ports and the Hurricane, having been lifted from the trestles, was now being positioned over the hardened "run-up" area. "Are you all checked out and happy, Pat?" I called out to Corporal "Paddy" Lambe. He and I had been checking the inspection schedules, ensuring that signatures had been entered for all elements of the "Double Star". "I‘m all OK, "Jeff"." came the reply.
I checked that wheel chocks were in position and saw that "Webby" had the starting trolley acc plugged in. LAC Webb, a former Ashford publican, was a reliable and efficient fitter. He had positioned himself at the port wingtip and "Nobby" Clarke had taken charge on the starboard side. I climbed into the cockpit, adjusted the clipboard on my right knee and made notes of gauge readings. "Fuel levels - OK: air pressure - low: flying controls - full and free: gun button - safe: mixture control lever set rich: pitch control lever - set line: turn on master switch, turn on fuel, set throttle, prime engine, look to port side". "I‘m ready to start. All clear?". I can see "Webby" looking around: "All clear" comes the reply. Magneto switches "On" and "Contact".
"Contact" comes back and I press the starter button. The airscrew starts to turn, accompanied by the whirring of the starter motor.
A puff of smoke from the exhaust. The speed of the propeller accelerates, then slows again. Another, larger puff of smoke, the Merlin coughs, then catches on, coughs again and settles into a steady even roar. With the throttle set at 1200rpm, a check of the instruments shows a good oil pressure reading, the vacuum pump is operating and the air pressure is climbing out the red to a steady green. In turn, the magnetos are switched "off" then "on"; pitch control is taken into "coarse", then "fine".
