P-51C take off sequence

a bit of fun with PSP from a sequence taken at Duxford. Comments

welcome, but please view large first.

I like this bit of fun.

 

But you missed the oportunity of being the first person to post a 9,000px image!

 

Pete

now that is sweet. very cool. you wouldnt happen to have the sound too, would you? that would make my day :).

I enjoyed seeing your sequence of photos. The aviation museum at Duxford is first-rate, and I was glad to have the opportunity to visit there. I'm licensed to fly sailplanes, my father was a US Navy officer who landed British troops on Gold Beach during D-Day (I note the invasion markings on the wings of the P-51 you photographed), and his late cousin was a B-17 pilot with the 8th Air Force who flew 35 missions over Europe, most of them over Germany. It's good to know that people in the UK still remember the American aviators, soldiers and sailors that came to their defense during the War. I trust that you had advance permission from the Duxford authorities, however, and also made specific arrangements with the pilot of this P-51, before positioning yourself in the location where you took these pictures. I also hope that anyone who decides to emulate your photo sequence takes care to make such arrangements. I don't mean to be a killjoy, but mention the following in the interests of safety. If the details were worked out in advance, this could be done safely; but if not, this could be quite hazardous to both the photographer and the pilot. Even with a high-performance aircraft such as a P-51, the take-off roll, point of liftoff and rate of climb can be affected by temperature, humidity, fuel load, flap settings, and pilot technique. With a tail-dragger such as a P-51, forward visibility is also limited by the tail-down attitude of the aircraft prior to liftoff, and by the long nose in front of the cockpit. One would not want to be located at a vantage point in the middle of an aircraft's takeoff path on a hot, humid day without the pilot knowing in advance. Suddenly seeing an unexpected obstacle ahead might startle the pilot at a moment when concentration was required for safe operation. Due both to the high torque of the 1,520-hp Merlin Mk 29 engine in a P-51C, and to the large diameter of its propeller, the P-51 has a reputation for being a challenge to handle on takeoff. That big four-bladed prop, with all that horsepower driving it, would also make a very efficient salami slicer if the pilot hadn't gained sufficient altitude by the time the aircraft reached the photographer's location. That said, it's a great photo sequence, I enjoyed seeing it, and I hope you had fun taking it as well.

Thanks for the info and feedback. The sacrifice of all Allied aircrew is still greatly remembered by many over here, and it's great to see these old Warbirds flying after all the years.

 

This sequence was taken at the Autumn Airshow at Duxford, and, despite how it looks, I was actually standing behind the crowd barrier. The fact you think that I negotiated a special place to take these shots from is quite flattering!

 

Duxford has a grass runway in front of a conrete runway. The crowd line at the Land Warfare Hall end bends in towards the concrere r/w at the point where the grass one ends. When level with the grass r/w, the crowd line then runs parallel to the concrete. This creates an apex that looks down the length of the grass runway.

 

This P-51C (named "Princess Elizabeth") was one of 3 P-51's performing a formation t/o. As it was furthest toward the crowd line of the three, it ended up coming right over the apex at which I positioned myself.

 

 

 

Thanks for your response, and I am glad that the arrangements for this were appropriate. Those of us who hang around airplanes tend to be fairly safety-conscious. For the most part, flying has a good safety record, but that is because instructors train pilots to focus on safety in all aspects of flight operations, and not because flying is an inherently safe activity. While much of this is technical in nature, some of it involves personal attitude. Some of the more traditional catch-phrases drummed into flight students:

-- "There are old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots."

-- "The pilot in command is always the first to arrive upon the scene of an accident."

-- " A midair collision can ruin your whole day."

My first flight instructor, when I was a teenager more years ago than I care to remember, was a gruff and grizzled older man, Mr. Madison, whom just about everyone around the airport referred to as "Pappy." On the landing at the end of one instructional flight, I misjudged the flare on my final approach, leveled off a bit high, and ran out of flying speed while still several feet in the air, coming down with a bone-jarring thump that fortunately did not damage either the airframe or the aircrew. As Pappy sometimes reacted with profanity to errors during flight maneuvers, I awaited his reaction with trepidation. All that he said, quietly and mildly, was: "Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing." Then he opened the canopy, climbed out, and walked away, leaving me to push the sailplane back to the flight line by myself. I thought that what he said involved a certain degree of humor, and repeated it to the manager of the small airport when I got back to the office. The manager, a highly skilled pilot himself, simply gave me a level gaze and said, with no particular inflection in his voice: "He meant it. He was a US Army Air Corps flight instructor during the War, and not all of his students survived their first solos." After that, I paid very close attention to everything that Pappy told me. His good training is at least partly responsible for the fact that I have managed to reach middle age without damaging any aircraft.

As for wartime aircrew, my father's late cousin, William Guldner, had been one of those kids who hung over the fence of the local airport, thinking that flying looked adventurous and glamorous. On his 35th and final mission over Germany, he was lined up flying straight and level on the final run in to drop ordnance on the target when flak struck the B-17 directly in front of his in the formation. The flak burst hit the aircraft directly in its bomb bay, before it could release its weapons. There was an enormous explosion, and then his plane flew directly through the remains of the aircraft in front of it, with small pieces of wreckage banging off the fuselage and wings. There wasn't anything left of the aircraft or aircrew large enough to have a real collision with. While he had once loved flying, and had brought his crew home safe from 35 missions, Bill refused ever to set foot in an aircraft again after he came home from the War. Instead, he got himself a much safer, quieter job. He became a homicide detective with the Los Angeles Police Department, the LAPD, and held that job for many years before retiring and becoming a private detective. He died the way every good pilot should die -- in bed, of old age.

I like it Alex, but I think in terms of conveying the effect of the sequence, there are more frames than necessary. 3 or 4 might have been enough.

 

That pseudo film look is cute, but as a user of real film, I have a problem with the fact that the holes are not regularly spaced. I think my camera's film transport mechanism might have trouble with that!

sweet mate. i knew she got close as from the other side you could see a wave of people ducking all the way from the LWM to the fuel dump. despite the obvious gripes of others " the holes are spaced wrong " etc . you get a 6/7 from me and the only reason for not a 7/7 is that you fell into the oldest trap in aircraft photography, you followed the plane and forgot about your horizons. DOH... dont worry im just as guilty as the next for falling for the same error. id like to bet that when she had cleared your airspace there was one of the loudest chimping session ever heard at DX . LOL.