Richard Cripps remembers David Lockspeiser’s aeroplane…
The following article is short on hard facts such as dates and
names. The incident described did not seem at the time to be so
significant as to justify documentation. However the recent report of
the death of David Lockspeiser jogged my memory, and I thought it worth
sharing with the Association.
The life of a technical apprentice at the Kingston Factory was
usually fairly well ordered, a succession of moves around the facility
to gain experience in the functioning of the various production,
technical and management departments. However the apprentices as a
body also provided a useful pool of temporary labour from which
individuals could be deployed for any unusual tasks that arose. So it
was that one Monday morning in (I think) 1970 I was instructed to
report to the old Valve Test House.
Those familiar with the Kingston Factory may remember the Valve
Test House. It was a small enclosed workshop located in the Fitters'
Department in the north west corner of the production building, beneath
the balcony that ran in front of the Works Management offices, but at
the time I am describing its functions had recently been combined with
those of the Materials Test House, and it stood empty.
On arrival I was joined by two other apprentices with whom I was
familiar although their names escape me. We found that the enclosure
now contained several aluminium alloy sheets, pre-formed with an
aerodynamic curve and pre-drilled, a box of other components and a
simple assembly jig; and a drawing titled "LDA-01 Development
Aircraft." It transpired that our task was to assemble the aerofoil
sections for Mr. Lockspeiser's aircraft.
I say "aerofoil sections" because the aircraft was
an exercise in extreme simplicity and minimal cost, a complete
contrast to the Harriers around which our world normally revolved.
Those sections were symmetrical with parallel sides, and formed both
the wings and the tail plane - one each side at the back and one
attached by its middle at the front, the aircraft being a tail-first,
rear engine "canard". All the ribs were identical and the assemblies
were held together with pop rivets, the use of which was comfortably
within our skill set.
We set to work with enthusiasm, and after a
couple of days had completed the first section and were well advanced
with the second. However at some point, while I was out performing some
other errand, one of the company directors (not specified) was observed
peering in on the activity through the internal windows with a frown on
his face. Shortly afterwards we were stood down and all the material
vanished. Evidently the work was being done on the "old boy's network",
and that network did not extend far enough up the command chain.
On reflection I was surprised that such a visible
location was used for what appeared to be an unauthorized activity. The
Apprentice Training Workshop, where directors rarely ventured, could
easily have accommodated it. We were also concerned that our having
discussed the project with our apprentice colleagues might have let the
cat out of the bag although none of us could recall any instructions
concerning confidentiality.
Anyway, we derived a certain amount of satisfaction
from our minimal contribution to the project, particularly when a
photograph of the completed aircraft on its first takeoff appeared on
the front page of the "Daily Telegraph"!