In their time few writings on the .subject of aviation can have been as avidly read, as furiously debated and as lovingly quoted, as have those signed “C.G.G.” The initials stand for Charles Grey Grey. Spelt with an “E”. Both times. My recollections are of a man with no special gifts in the way of scientific ability or technical achievement 'who, in the most advanced industry of his day, grew to a stature when he became a figure of much concern to industrialists and civil servants alike. He walked and flew with dictators but, though very much a man of the right, never lost the common touch. Somebody, I think it was the late Roland Dangerfield, called him a “democratic old aristocrat”.

In 1959 BEA required the Trident 1 to carry a payload of 15 500 lb (7 Mg), or 75 passengers mixed first and economy class, for 1000 statute miles (1609 km), i.e. London-Rome. It was to be tightly tailored to this requirement to achieve low operating costs, and to achieve this they decided on passenger amenity standards which were below those current today. For example, allowance was made for cold meals with coffee etc., not for hot meals. First class seating was 5 abreast, and economy class seat backs were fixed with no adjustment for recline. The aircraft was to be capable of cruising at 600 mph (268 m/s), the economical speed coming out at 585 mph (261 m/s), higher than any other jet.

Since the Kremer Prize rules were laid down in 1959, a dozen or more man-powered aircraft projects have evolved. Five single-seat aircraft have sustained flight following unassisted take-off, and the question is no longer “Can man fly?” but “How well can he fly?”. Although flights in excess of halt a mile have been achieved, the prize has remained tantalisingly just out of reach, but close enough to encourage the development of this type of flying machine.

The interest of wings with variable sweepback springs directly from pure commonsense and appeals to no profound knowledge of aerodynamics for its justification.

To realise the advantage of variable geometry, it is enough to know that only a wing of small relative thickness is capable of good performance at supersonic speeds and that by increasing the sweepback from 20° to 70° the thickness of a wing is divided by about 2.

In the advanced position, the wing offers its full span to the airstream and with high-lift devices in action (leading-edge slats and trailing-edge flaps combined), the aeroplane can develop the considerable lift necessary for take-off and landing as well as for break-through and for slow approach. Wings still advanced but slats, flaps and undercarriage retracted, the aeroplane is in excellent maximum fineness condition for protracted cruising at subsonic speed or for a long wait. As soon as transonic (Mach No of more than 0-8) or supersonic speeds are in question, the wings are progressively folded back.

I learned to fly at Brooklands in the early summer of 1915, in a Maurice Farman Longhorn with a 70 hp Renault engine. Failure to take the Royal Aero Club ticket would have cost £75, but I was lucky and passed the tests in two hours and ten minutes, spread over about three weeks—no flying if it was even slightly bumpy or more than about a 15 mph wind. One had to make two figures of eight at not under 1000 ft and then land in the 50 yds circle with engine off. The sewage farm in the corner of the aerodrome, close to the railway, had a specially magnetic charm for some people, and I happily did not make that mistake.

Much of the Gloster story has already been told by H. F. King in Flight for 27th May 1955. The same edition contains a generous contribution by Air Commodore Alan Wheeler which most vividly portrays a pilot's point of view on the Grebes, Gamecocks and later on, the Gladiators and Meteors.

When I left school with a Scholarship to Cambridge, subsequently transferred to Manchester School of Technology because I thought it would enable me to acquire a more practical knowledge of electrical engineering, the Wrights had only just made their first flight and the idea of a career in the aircraft world never entered my head. However, after the final exams at the end of the three years at Manchester and four years experience in Works and in a Consulting Engineers office, I had the opportunity in 1909 of following my Chief, Mervyn O'Gorman, to Farnborough when he was appointed by Lord Haldane as Superintendent of the Balloon Factory, later rechristened the Royal Aircraft Establishment. My salary was £3 a week and my first job was Personal Assistant to the Superintendent and later I was given the resounding title of Technical Assistant in Charge of Supplies, mostly the special materials which were being developed for aircraft and engines. At the outset I had to make hydrogen for the Airships which were the sole product of the Factory for more than a year. Making hydrogen was more interesting than you might think because occasionally the gasometers, where the hydrogen was stored before compression into steel bottles, used to blow up. We made no less than four new Airships before Lord Haldane gave permission for aircraft design to start and we had some leeway to recover to catch up with A. V. Roe, Sopwith, Blackburn and several others who had started earlier.