Jack and Bobby: A story of brothers in conflict. Leo McKinstry

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СКАЧАТЬ with sleet lashing into the face like a razor. “Get your snow shoes on, lads. Short studs are no use in this stuff,” he called over his shoulder as he picked his way carefully over the squelchy treacherous surface of slush into the warmth of the airport lounge.’

      Inside the airport, Bobby, like some of the others, wandered around the shops looking at souvenirs, and then had a coffee. At 2.15pm, an announcement was made that the refuelled aircraft was now ready for boarding. As the players trooped back through the biting gale, Roger Byrne noticed that the wheel tracks of the plane, made only 40 minutes earlier on landing, were now almost invisible because of the snow. Yet, despite the poor weather, there was little sense of unease amongst the passengers. They were looking forward to lunch, a game of cards, and a kip. ‘We’ll be landing in Manchester around 7pm,’ a steward told Bill Foulkes, the big full-back.

      At 2.19pm, the pilots, Captain James Thain, the commander of the flight, and his co-pilot, Captain Ken Rayment, were given permission to taxi for take-off. The passengers heard the familiar purr of the engines revving up, and then the Elizabethan began to move down the runway. ‘I remember looking out of the window as I always did to see the wheels leave the ground and mark the moment we became airborne. But just as the twin engines burst into a full-throated roar and we started to gather speed, the brakes were jammed hard and the Elizabethan came to a grinding halt. Dennis Viollet and I grinned at each other as we were jolted forward and everybody laughed and joked about the incident. We had stopped halfway down the runway – nobody knew why,’ wrote Bobby later.

      The reason the plane had stopped was because the pilots had noticed an uneven tone in the engines and a sudden fluctuation in the port pressure gauge. This was caused by a problem known as ‘boost surging’, as Captain James Thain later explained: ‘Boost surging was not uncommon with Elizabethans at the time, particularly at airports like Munich because of their height above sea level. Over-rich mixture caused the power surge, but though the engines sounded uneven there was not much danger that the take-off power of the aircraft would be affected. The Elizabethans were very powerful in their day and you could have taken off on one engine.’ Confident in the effectiveness of his aircraft, Thain decided to make a second attempt at taking off. But this time, he and Rayment agreed to open the throttles more slowly, because a quick opening was known to be one of the causes of boost surging.

      At 2.34pm, the plane raced down the runway but once more the take-off had to be abandoned halfway down the runway when Captain Thain noticed that the port pressure was still fluctuating wildly. There was now a mounting sense of anxiety in the cabin. ‘What the hell is going on here!’ yelled Frank Swift, the huge former England goalkeeper who was now working for the News of the World. Some of the passengers lapsed into empty theorizing – one journalist suggested the sludge had short-circuited the plane’s electrical system, a patently absurd idea given that the lights were still working in the cabin. Then a stewardess emerged to tell everyone that there was a slight technical fault. ‘We hope to have it corrected soon but, in the meantime, please disembark and wait in the airport for a further announcement,’ she said. Once again the players and press marched through the snow. ‘Don’t worry, no matter what the fault is, we’re not in any danger. There is a point of no return on the runway where, if the pilot is not happy about the plane, he can still pull up quite safely,’ Frank Taylor, who had served in the RAF, told Bobby as they walked together to the terminal.

      It was at this moment that a fateful decision was made by the crew of the Elizabethan. William Black, the station engineer, had been summoned to the cockpit to discuss with Captains Thain and Rayment the problem of boost surging. The pilots explained that they had taken all the recommended steps – such as the more gentle release of the throttle – to eliminate it. Black said that the only alternative was to re-tune the engines, but that would involve an overnight stop. ‘I don’t think that is necessary. After all, the starboard engine has performed normally,’ replied Captain Thain, who decided he would have another go at take-off. He was only reflecting the desire of everyone, manager, players and reporters, to be in Manchester by nightfall.

      The passengers, who had just reached the terminal, were now told to return. ‘We had ordered coffees, but we never got them because we had to go back on to the plane,’ recalls Ray Wood, the United reserve keeper. Bill Foulkes felt that the order to return came too suddenly. ‘There was something wrong. I wasn’t happy.’ Some of the journalists were equally surprised that a mechanical fault could have been mended so quickly, for it was barely ten minutes since they had last left their seats. Frank Taylor, with his wartime flying experience, was also worried about the possibility of ice on the wings. In appallingly cold, snowy conditions, he did not see how the wings could have been properly cleared of ice in such a short space of time. He was right to be concerned, for Captain Thain later admitted: ‘Ken and I had not been out of the cockpit but we talked about the snow and looked at the wings from the flight deck. We had lost the film of snow we had noticed before our first departure and decided not to have the wings swept.’

      There was now a palpable sense of nervousness as the passengers took their seats. ‘I went into the aircraft and saw the steward, Tom Cable, white as a sheet, strapping himself into the very rear seat. I thought to myself, “There’s something seriously wrong here,” ‘ recalls Harry Gregg. It was often asked later why none of the travellers simply refused to board the plane. ‘We were footballers. We just did what we were told,’ says Albert Scanlon, though he does remember Frank Taylor telling him, ‘Sod this. If you don’t take off first time in the RAF, you scrap it.’ Most of the passengers went back to the same places they had taken throughout the journey, but, crucially, Bobby and Dennis Viollet decided to move further up to the front of the plane, swapping with Tommy Taylor and Dave Pegg, who – in a tragic miscalculation – believed they would be safer at the back.

      There was a brief delay when it was discovered, after a headcount, that one of the passengers was missing. True to his journalistic instincts, Alf Clarke of the Manchester Evening Chronicle had got on the phone the moment he arrived in the terminal to give his paper the story of the aircraft’s problems. He arrived just as the plane was about to taxi. ‘I had to tell the office. After all, we might have had to stay in Munich all night,’ he explained. ‘Oh, blimey, don’t say that, Alf,’ came a chorus from the other newsmen.

      At 2.56pm Captain Thain requested permission to move out to the runway. It was immediately given and, after further routine checks, the aircraft started rolling. At precisely 3.02pm came a vital message from the control tower: ‘Your clearance void if not airborne by zero four,’ In effect, Thain had been given just two minutes to decide whether to make another attempt at take-off. If he was not in the air within the next 120 seconds, then there was little chance that the Elizabethan would be heading for Manchester that day.

      Captain Thain decided to press ahead. A hush descended on the passengers. The usual footballers’ banter had disappeared completely. ‘I tightened my safety belt and glanced at my watch,’ recalled Bobby Charlton later. ‘It was just after three. There was a nervous kind of quietness in the cabin. I turned to Dennis Viollet and said, “I’m not taking my coat off this time.” Once again we set off down the runway, the fields slipping past the window in a kaleidoscope as we gathered speed. I looked out of the window to see the wheels lift and I am sure they didn’t rise more than two inches. Then, as I moved my head, I saw the fence at the end of the runway and I knew we couldn’t clear it.’ Up in the cockpit, the two pilots knew only too well that something was disastrously amiss. Captain Thain had watched in horror as the needle on the speed indicator reached 117 knots per hour, then suddenly dropped to 105. The plane had already passed the point of no return. He looked up from the instrument panel to see the fence looming ahead. And at that terrifying moment, he heard his co-pilot Ken Rayment scream, ‘Christ, we’re not going to make it.’

      Ray Wood remembers the sense of foreboding as the plane hurtled down the runway for the third time, with one engine again sounding as if it was struggling to maintain power. He turned to Roger Byrne, who was showing real fear as he gripped the armrests of his seat, and said: ‘Roger, what’s СКАЧАТЬ