Jason Davenhill Class of 1988

Where did your journey into flying begin?

In answer to your question, I’m where I am now almost entirely because of the CCF. I was at Trinity from 1980 to 1983, then my family moved to just outside Paris. We were only there for a year before Dad moved the office back to the UK, so I returned to Trinity. That year abroad gave me a real boost of confidence. I was open to all sorts of new ideas. At first, I’d assumed I wouldn’t join the CCF, mostly because it would give me Monday afternoons off. But by a series of flukes, I ended up in a different English class, and the kid sitting behind me persuaded me to join the Navy section.

Did you take to it straight away?

I quite enjoyed it, yes. I started going on lots of camps, including the RN powerboat coxswain and sailing courses down at Jupiter Point in Plymouth. On the back of that sailing course, I offered ‘sailing instructor’ to an American kids’ camp and spent the summer of my first year at university teaching sailing in Massachusetts.

I also did several outdoor pursuits camps, which gave me the confidence to go for my Duke of Edinburgh’s Gold Award. Mel Thompson used to take a group of us to the Guards’ adventure training camp in Fremington in Devon. I loved how he ran those camps. He was a real inspiration to me.

Was the Navy section at Trinity quite popular at the time?

There weren’t many of us. When I joined we only had four in our year. The others all drifted away and I was the only Navy cadet in my year by the time I finished at Trinity. It did mean I got to be Cadet Cox’n by default.

During my time, one of my colleagues mentioned that the Royal Navy were offering flying scholarships. I remember thinking, “What’s one of them?”, not a hint of grammar in sight. Turned out, the Navy would actually pay for you to learn to fly.

So, I applied. The first time I went to RAF Biggin Hill for the aptitude tests, I failed, partly because I didn’t really understand one of the computer tests. I was gently clipping the dots scrolling down the screen instead of hitting them dead centre. I’d also admitted to having a back problem I’d been diagnosed with the year before.

I’m not a big fan of failing, so I went back the next year. This time, I did much better in the aptitude test and to the question “Any back problems?” I ticked “no”. I got the flying scholarship and went to Peterborough Connington Airport for three weeks at the end of September 1989 to earn my private pilot’s licence.

When did you start seriously thinking about a future in the forces?

Around that time, I started speaking with the Royal Navy’s school’s liaison officer who happened to be a Royal Marine. My dad had always said I should be a doctor or a lawyer. Peter Duncan on Blue Peter had done some of the Commando tests, so I was toying with the idea of joining the Navy as a doctor or lawyer and then doing the Royal Marines Commando course just so I could wear the green beret.

Mark Sykes, the liaison officer, showed me a pamphlet called Get Fit For University. On the front was a university scarf and a green beret. It turned out to be a gap year scheme with the Royal Marines. He warned me it was hugely competitive, with hundreds of applicants for very few places.

So how did you prepare for something that intense?

I’d started training for the 400-metre hurdles under Peter Radford’s guidance, so I was pretty fit already. I thought it sounded like a challenge, and mostly applied to see if I could even get in.

After the Potential Officers Course in April and the Admiralty Interview Board in August, I was selected. They told me to report to Lympstone in the October after my A levels.

What was that year like?

Tough. I was 18, turning 19. It began with seven weeks of basic training at Lympstone, bed at 2am, up again at 6, then two months in Norway with 42 Commando. Returning to the UK I then did the full Commando course, where I earned my green beret. I was so proud of that.

Interestingly, around that time, the Trinity CCF paid a visit to Lympstone on a field trip. It was lovely to see them.

What came next after training?

I spent the summer with various Royal Marines units, including the air squadron. I went to Gibraltar, and on exercises in Scotland and South Wales. After that, I handed in my kit and went off to do the flying scholarship in Peterborough. Then I started university.

When did the RAF come into the picture?

It was during university. I’d enjoyed everything so far and thought it might be worth a punt. So I applied to the Royal Navy as a pilot and, on a whim, also applied to the RAF.

Having already aced the Admiralty Interview Board the first time, I was under-prepared the second time around. I passed, but I didn’t enjoy the process. Still, it gave me the kick I needed to prepare properly for the Biggin Hill interview.

Were you still running at this point?

Yes. I ran for Combined Universities and was secretary of the Exeter team. In fact, I remember standing at Crystal Palace at the University Championships, holding the two letters inviting me to start, one from the Navy, one from the RAF. I didn’t know much about the RAF, but because of the athletics, I chose them.

Did you always want to fly helicopters?

Funnily enough, no. I’d hopped on and off plenty of helicopters with the Marines and thought I’d like to fly them. But you had to join with the intention of flying fast jets.

I was told I had to join the University Air Squadron, but at least that got me flying again. After graduation, I was attested into the RAF, literally the first thing I did, so I could run at the Inter-Services in the 400m hurdles. (Thanks again, Peter.)

Then came officer training, followed by elementary flying training on the Firefly, and then basic training on the Tucano.

What was the highlight of Tucano training?

I remember a hot, sunny day at Linton-on-Ouse, watching the Harriers from the operational conversion unit taxi past. A young Paul Godfrey (Class of 1990 and now Air Marshal Godfrey) was sitting up in his cockpit, punching data into his navigation computer. I remember thinking, “Golly, that looks grown up.” By that point, I’d said I wanted to go helicopters. But flying the Tucano was so much fun I asked if I could go fast jets. They said, “Normally, we’d say yes, crack on, but there are no fast jet slots at the moment.”

So that’s when you went to helicopter school?

Exactly. I trained in Shropshire and got my wings, which I was so proud of, and then had to wait a year. Because I had the green beret, I held with the Royal Marines. That took me to Brunei, then all over the UK, working as the RAF liaison officer in the Royal Marines Brigade HQs.

Eventually I got onto the Chinook. I flew it for 10 years, became an instructor, and went to quite a few of the world’s trouble spots: Bosnia (twice), Northern Ireland (four times), Iraq, Sierra Leone, Kosovo, Trinity School (three times!) and Afghanistan (twice).

Wait, you landed a Chinook at Trinity?

Yes! Mel Thompson had a photo of it, me landing a Chinook on the top field. He used to laugh because a game of cricket was still going on, even with this bloody great helicopter landing just in front of it. “So English,” he’d say.

Did you still have any Royal Navy links during your Chinook years?

Definitely. I spent a lot of time on ships, HMS Fearless, HMS Ocean and HMS Ark Royal, so I never forgot my Royal Navy roots. I even spent time with another Old Mid, Tom Tarnowski, (Class of 1990) on board Ark Royal during the prelude to the Iraq War in 2003.

What came after Chinooks?

I taught university students to fly up in Southport. That was brilliant fun. Then I took the family to the Falklands. After that, I had a job with the Army Air Corps in Hampshire, then moved the family to Shropshire where I was instructing at the Defence Helicopter School.

Six months in Syria working with the Royal Marines followed. After that, I transitioned out and converted my military flying and coaching qualifications into civilian ones.

Did music and athletics stay part of your life throughout all this?

Absolutely. I used to take my trumpet on operations. I ran the Odiham and Shawbury wind bands, played for the RAF Wyton Volunteer Band, and even nearly got invited to play for the Royal Marines swing band. Unfortunately, I was flying the taxi (Chinook) that took them to the gig. After we married, my wife, Wendy discovered singing and joined the Military Wives Choir. They needed a male soloist for one of their concerts so I’m proud to say I have sung in the Military Wives Chois. As for athletics, I continued organising the RAF’s competitions. Mike Fleet used to come and commentate. Funny thing, we had a sort of reunion when I realised Mike Smart and John De’ath, both very senior RAF officers and big names in athletics, were also Old Mids. For the centenary of the RAF in 2018, the RAF Athletics Association decided to have a go at the world record for 100 runners running 10km. I didn’t necessarily contribute to beating the record (I was 3 seconds adrift from the required average) but we broke it nonetheless so I am officially a world record holder. Not bad for an old bloke.

And what do you do now?

Now, I teach people to fly, both fixed-wing and helicopters. One of the aircraft I fly is one I first flew when I joined the RAF. A Bulldog and Chinook I flew are now in the museum at Cosford. And the Cessna 152 I did my very first solo in? It’s still alive and well at the airfield in Peterborough.

Turns out, I quite enjoy flying. It was never on my radar as a kid. Who knew, when I randomly applied for that flying scholarship? The doctor at Biggin Hill who stamped my first application unfit ground and air duties might not have been all that enlightened after all.