Looping the loop with a guardian angel . . .

THE letter about the Red Arrows reminded me of an event in my own life.

Back in the 1950s when my husband Dennis Craig and I were working on The Star newspaper in Johannesburg, Dennis wrote a column called Our Man On The Reef. The basic idea was he’d do things readers had no chance of doing themselves but had always wondered what they would be like. He’d tell them. One Saturday afternoon, he went to an air show being held somewhere outside the city, and was invited by the pilot of a classic small plane to join him in a programme of aerobatics. The invitation was enthusiastically accepted (ideal for the column!) and both were kitted out with parachutes, helmets and so on. They took to the skies, seated one behind the other, each with his own sliding canopy overhead. It was exhilarating. They looped the loop, they swooped down low and soared high, until the pilot said, ‘Right! One more loop and that’s my programme done.’ At that moment, Dennis told me, he was unexpectedly overcome by a terrible wave of fear. He managed to gasp: ‘No, no more!’ The pilot gave him a sardonic look, clearly thinking, ‘Scaredy-pants journalist’, but landed. There was trouble getting Dennis out because his canopy was jammed and it took some time for two men with heavy equipment to release it, after which, deeply humiliated, he stumbled away and left the show.

Next morning, we were having breakfast and reading the Sunday papers when he froze and went very quiet. Then he handed me his newspaper. It said the plane he’d been flying in at the show had crashed. The pilot had gone up again and on his very first loop the loop, a wing broke off. He’d had to eject and was safe — but the plane crashed into the neighbouring mountains. The pilot called Dennis later that day and asked if he could buy him a drink. ‘Mate,’ he said. ‘I reckon there were three of us aboard that plane. The third was your guardian angel.’

Zelda Craig, London W12.