Wingleader Publications Westland Lysander in Worldwide Service Photo Archive Number #32

[Mike]

Westland Lysander in Worldwide Service

Photo Archive Number #32 ISBN: 9781908757449

Wingleader Publications

 

 

In 1934, the aircraft that was to become the Lysander was designed in response to a specification for a liaison aircraft to replace the little-known Hawker Hector, which was a biplane formerly used in this role.  By comparison, the Lysander was highly advanced, being a monoplane with leading-edge slats that gave it a low stall-speed of only 65mph that resulted in excellent short-field performance, but also led to a relatively low top speed that wasn’t a problem until war broke out.  Westland had listened carefully to the needs of pilots, and the aircraft was well-suited to its job, as well as being easy to fly.  When Nazi Germany invaded Poland in 1939, war was declared by Britain and France, the Lysander was continuing in its original role for a while, until it was discovered that the enemy were able to shoot them down with ease, leading to heavy losses that were unsustainable. Following the fall of France, other uses for the Lysander were investigated, creating possibly one of the ugliest aircraft ever, one which always get a giggle when ugly aircraft are discussed.  Project P.12, re-engineered from the wing trailing-edge back with a straight profile fuselage that terminated in a four-gun Delanne turret that was bracketed by another pair of wings with vertical rudders at each end, intended to be used as a beach straffer in the event of an invasion by German troops.  Thankfully, only one was made, and the invasion never happened because of the successful defence of Britain by the RAF, Coastal Command, Fleet Air Arm and many others during the Battle of Britain.

 

During the Battle of Britain and beyond, the Lysander was re-tasked in the Air Sea Rescue (ASR) role, where it performed admirably, saving many airmen, regardless of their nation.  They could carry floating flares on their spat-mounted winglets to signal nearby launches, and a dinghy pack could also be carried to be dropped to airmen that were further from assistance, and needed respite from the cold water of the Channel or North Sea.  The winglets could also carry small bombs for targets of opportunity on armed-reconnaissance missions, using cameras that could be fitted within the fuselage, taking photos vertically aiming via a window under the pilot’s floor, and using marks painted on the insides of the wing support struts to aim the oblique camera.  Where the Lysander really shone was in the Special Duties role, dropping agents and supplies for the Special Operations Executive (SOE), the forerunner of MI6, and the Resistance fighters throughout Europe.  Its slow speed and short take-off/landing performance was a boon, although these missions were incredibly dangerous, with the likelihood that the Germans could be waiting for both the agents and the delivery/pick-up aircraft.  Painting most of the airframe black helped to disguise it, but the danger was ever-present.  Later in the war when the need for special operations aircraft waned, many Lysanders were re-assigned to the target tug role, and bright paintwork was the order of the day to differentiate them from the drogue they deployed behind them.  A bright yellow and black diagonal stripe pattern was generally painted over the lower portions of the aircraft, although some were striped all-over.

 

 

The Book

 

 

 

This thirty-second volume in the series covers the Lysander’s career from Mk.Is of the Pre-War era to Mk.II and Mk.III airframes, sub-variants, including those with equipment specific to their task, such as the ASR, Special Duties and Target Tugs, the latter given the prefix TT. in addition to their Mark number.  The changes between variants were often subtle, unless we’re discussing the P.12, in which case it’s blindingly obvious, so the captions are especially useful to determine the differences, where they are clarified using arrows or letters over-printed on the photographs.  Throughout the volume, there are six pages devoted to particular airframes, showing their paint and markings using three view profiles, and with a bullet-pointed list of specific aspects of that aircraft’s configuration that would be of use to the modeller that strives for accuracy, some of which are otherwise hard to see unless you know to look.

 

 

 

Some of the photos are staged of course, but there are also plenty of candid shots, a few in colour, and some are of damaged aircraft, including an inverted airframe following a ground-loop, a mangled wreck from an unspecified accident, and another that was just a little slow on the brakes and rolled its gear into a drainage ditch, relatively undamaged, but highly embarrassed.  The photo of a pilot posing in the seat of his aircraft is particularly poignant, as he was killed in action relatively soon after that picture was taken.  There are photo sections of aircraft in the service of other Air Forces around the world, most notably Canada, but also Eire, Turkey and the Free French, who used theirs in service of reclaiming their country from the Nazis.  The last section of the book shows Finnish airframes, some wearing skis of their own design, with their blue inverse swastika that is confusing to those with little knowledge of WWII markings.

 

A visually impressive book with plenty of reading material into the bargain that will have you coming back to it again and again.  It should sell well in the run-up to the release of Airfix’s new 1:48 kit, and deservedly so, thanks to its impeccable timing.

 

Highly recommended.

 

 

Review sample courtesy of

[Graham Boak]

Not liaison but Army Co-operation, a much more aggressive role.  Hence the size, armament etc.