Consequently I was astonished when almost immediately I received a disarming invitation to join an advanced flying course with the R.A.F. in order to qualify. Whether it was a case of the right hand not knowing the left or a commendable touch of sympathy I do not know. I was too conscious of the rare privilege to care about its inspiration. Rather anxiously – I had received a lot of Press publicity over the Sound Barrier affair, including a picture of me in ballet tights in a simpering pose that hardly suggested I was Wings material – I reported to R.A.F. Training Command for a month’s preparatory refresher on advanced instrument flying and aerobatics before joining up with the last two weeks of a Wings course being held at No. 9 Flying Training School, Wellesbourne Mountford. My anxiety was needless, for apart from one confirmed misogynist, the staff and fellow students were, there is no other adjective for it, charming. For two weeks, with the aid of enviably complexioned and gallant teenage air force cadets, I attempted to plug the gaps in my knowledge of military aviation in preparation for the formidable Wings examination.
