I have been allowed to scramble all over it and sit in the pilot seat. I did make it into the rear turret, but it is tight. Not surprised you didn't fit, RB. Gotta say I was glad I wasn't wearing a skirt that day!
I would give several major appendages (afterwords, obviously) to somehow get a gig in the P1 seat of a WW2 heavy. Even to sit in the P1 seat would be a hell of a blast. Jealous.
I know it's a silly username. If you've met me, I probably introduced myself as Josh...
I did stand just behind the pilot for the taxi run, the FE also stands up, there is no right hand seat, very impressive sight from the cockpit but the guys in the back who were in darkness and cramped posittions said it really brought home how scary it must have been for the crew, most of the crew had no space to wear a shute and you couldn't get over the main spar wearing one anyway, they were brave guys.
Somebody had mentioned beforehand that 'down the back' was the place to be, and you are quite correct.
Any position from which you can see out, and it is blatantly 21st Century with a variety of garish sportswear and a million digital cameras in sight.
Down in the 'offices' at the back you know that outside is just a small knot of erks and Waafs, waving, fearing you might be amongst the ones for whom it is a final flight.
The good thing is that you can move around. I poked my head up through the mid-upper transparency for the last few yards, looking forward to see the broad 'shoulders' of the aircraft, the main canopy and the four Merlins. A truly fabulous experience, and comparatively little money.
The fear is that once airworthy, the taxi rides may cease.
Rob P
Forum Diversity & Equality Officer (unpaid)
"We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm." - George Orwell-
There's an extremely poignant article and interview with the Pantons in today's Sunday Telegraph.
The brothers wanted to go to Germany after the war, to visit the crash site. “Father forbade it.” He did not relent until 1972, only a few weeks before his own death. To Harold’s astonishment, fragments of the plane were still lying around. “You could just kick the earth and find bits of it.”
They are now in a display case at the museum, except for one fragment: a small cycling spanner that Christopher Panton used to keep in his pocket at all times. “I’ve got it at home,” says Fred. “There was a little bit of his uniform stuck on the spanner. We’ve never cleaned it.”