David Learmount
Aviation Journalist Extraordinaire
I recently met with someone I first chatted with some thirty years ago when he was writing an article about UK Flight Training Schools. I met him again at a premiere for a ‘Fact not Fiction Films’ expose on Toxic Air Syndrome. David Learmount is almost unique in aviation and journalism in that he has excelled at both in his long career. Some people are great journalists, some are renowned pilots. David has been both.
His story starts before he was born. His grandfather served in the Royal Flying Corps in France, having originally trained at Brooklands Airport in early 1915. In fact, after just 24 hours in his log book and one ‘minor’ crash, Leonard Learmount had qualified as an RFC pilot, was posted to France and very quickly found himself commanding his own squadron of FE2bs, then Bristol Fighters. David’s father had also wanted to join the Air Force but failed the medical and instead joined the Royal Navy, in which he served with honours throughout WW2 and continued until retirement.
David’s grandfather survived the war but sadly died in 1957 in a sailing accident when David was only 11. Leonard was the kind of man who excelled at most things and David regrets not having been able to ask him more questions.
David’s young life was typical of the son of a Royal Navy Officer and, when his father had been posted to Australia - based at a Royal Australian Navy air station - David enjoyed watching a variety of classic 1950s “warbirds” – fully operational at the time - turning onto final approach at his father’s base. David was hooked.
He went to Rugby School for his secondary education as a boarder, did well in academics, but loved sport. “I was particularly good at athletics, and played rugby but didn’t make it to the first fifteen. My ‘A’ levels were arty but I loved physics. I knew throughout that I wanted to fly. I’ve always been a ‘doer‘, and craved adventure in everything I did.”
David describes a loving relationship between him and his dad. When he left school he decided that he, too, would join the Navy, but with a view to flying with the Fleet Air Arm as soon as the opportunity arose. David reported to Dartmouth for officer training in 1965.
A snag arose. Harold Wilson was Prime Minister at the time, and he announced that the RN was going to stop operating aircraft carriers. Although this decision was later reversed, David felt he might not be able to fly if he stayed in the Navy. “I lacked the salty qualities of Admiral Nelson,” he quipped. After just nine months in the Navy, David had arranged his final leave.
Undeterred, David found himself at the RAF Selection Centre at Biggin Hill and was one of the six successful young men chosen from 80 attendees to become pilots in the RAF. Sadly, the appearance of success was not followed by a job offer as Harold Wilson’s plans to diminish the military took a grip.
David had no money but wanted to train as a pilot, so he found a way. He applied to BEA, British European Airways, a predecessor of British Airways, and trained as cabin crew - which he then worked at for almost two years. Being a BEA employee gave him membership of the British Airways Flying Club at Wycombe Air Park – at the time highly subsidised by the airline - and the welcome ability to take advantage of cheap flying training for his PPL, night, and IMC rating.
Two years later, David reapplied to the Air Force, but this time with a licence in his hands, and not only did he sail through the selection for a second time, but was very quickly offered a career. He was now on his way.
Officer Cadet training followed at RAF Henlow in 1970. Next, at RAF Linton on Ouse David was fast-tracked into the student’s seat of the famous Jet Provost (MK3) for basic flying training. Because he had a current PPL, the RAF saved a bit of money by bypassing primary flight training on the Chipmunk, which David regrets to this day. Some 80 hours later, David found himself at the controls of the sportier JP5. Life was going well, but David saw his future at the controls of something larger. Having enjoyed his time working as part of a crew in BEA he felt a flightdeck rather than a cockpit was more his cup of tea. Multi-engine training was the next stop.
This came in the form of the Vickers Varsity, a twin-engine, medium range, two crew, transport aircraft at RAF Oakington, near Cambridge. “I loved that aircraft! Two beautiful Bristol Hercules sleeve-valve radial piston engines which kept running all day long as crews inter-changed with props turning.” Now under multi-engine training, David found himself doing some interesting flying, including trips to Berlin via the old air corridors through Soviet East Germany. The cold war was still very chilly at this time.
Training now over, he was then given three options for progression: the V-bomber force, the prestigious 216 Squadron, flying VIPs in the De Havilland Comet or the C-130 (Hercules). He chose the C-130 and David found himself at the controls of the mighty Hercules at the operational conversion unit at RAF Thorney Island. The love affair with larger aircraft continued. He marvelled in the versatility and the strength of the Hercules. “What an aircraft! We flew everywhere in her, but especially the Middle East, Far East and Europe. We even did a complete circumnavigation of the globe, some 25,000 miles at the controls.”
As David mused, an aircraft is like a partner: treat them well and they will look after you. It did and David found himself flying everywhere in the famous Lockheed transporter. David married when he was just 23 and, two years later, his first child was on her way. “A little too early to get married, in hindsight,” he mused, “but when you find the right person, you can’t let them escape. I should have established my career better before I married.”
David was posted to RAF Akrotiri, Cyprus for his first operational tour as a working pilot on LXX Squadron. He discovered there had once been a squadron magazine, called “Usquam” (LXX’s motto), so he resurrected it as a monthly magazine, printing copies on an old Gestetner duplicator. David wrote most of the copy, but solicited contributions from anyone who’d help. The journalism seed had now been firmly planted.
It was a difficult time for Cyprus. A rebel Greek coup d’état in 1974 triggered a Turkish Invasion, and families were evacuated after some uncomfortable weeks in the line of fire. A year later, LXX Squadron was recalled to the UK at RAF Lyneham.
In 1976 David was selected to train at CFS (Central Flying School) and become an instructor himself - again back at Linton-on-Ouse. He was now a QFI, but with significant operational experience, almost ten years under his belt and doing a job he loved and has remained interested in – flight instruction!
Life was perfect and David really enjoyed interacting with aspiring young Air Force pilots, and David’s wife enjoyed the social side of being an Air Force officer’s wife enormously. For both of them it was a good time…but nothing good lasts forever.
David, with a growing family, faced sudden concerns about his health. Eve had noticed some changes and recommended he should see his doctor. He was diagnosed with a neurological disorder, grounded, and sent to the RAF hospital at Wroughton for further tests. He is today convinced that his mystery illness may have been linked to organo-phosphate poisoning from repeated exposure to traces of engine oil in the bleed air used for air conditioning and pressurisation, possibly having even begun accumulating in his system as cabin crew with BEA, but he will never know for certain. David was grounded. He continues to have an interest in so-called Aero-Toxic Syndrome and has never regained a flying medical certificate.
“A big disappointment? We didn’t have time to feel sorry for ourselves; my family was young, growing and expensive. With three children I had to find something else to support us. My father was deeply disappointed. He was immensely proud of me as an RAF officer and pilot. Fortunately, before he died of cancer in 1986 he was able to witness the beginnings of my success as an aviation journalist.
“Whilst in hospital at Wroughton, I borrowed an old typewriter and wrote 120 letters to various potential employers including Flight International. Eight replied, including Flight and I was offered a position with the magazine once the RAF had released me. The RAF offered me a resettlement course and, although perhaps journalism would have been a more logical choice, I selected marketing, just in case I turned out to be a lousy journalist! I emerged with a Marketing Diploma but a job at Flight. In June 1979 I started with a survival-level annual salary of just £3000.”
“I joined Flight as their new Air Transport Reporter on a six-month probation. The editor was Mike Ramsden at the time, the original “Uncle Roger” of “Straight and Level” fame. That column still exists, but it was never the same after Mike left.
When I joined he used to compile an Annual Airline Safety Review which I was keen to take over, and he handed me this duty. This was in the days when aircraft regularly went wrong, the study of human factors was in its infancy, and the letters CRM and TEM meant nothing.” Adopting this column was one of the best decisions of David’s career.
David went on to explain that Flight Magazine in those days was manned by aviators who were good at writing. They had a great kinship with their love of aviation first and writing second. Today, Flight Magazine is manned by highly professional journalists who quickly develop an interest in aviation, although it is not necessarily in their DNA.
David’s 10 years in the RAF, his massive interest in Flight Safety and a clear ability to write made him the ideal choice for the annual safety review, which he is still compiling this day, 42 years after Mike Ramsden passed on the baton. David eventually took up the title Operations & Safety Editor at Flight, a role perfect for him, but in which he was not replaced after he left the journal in 2015. This role made him an obvious choice of the media for informed reports and opinion following accidents or incidents. Even today, newspapers and TV will contact him for comment. These requests are reducing in frequency now as Air Transport becomes safer but David’s opinion and wisdom is still sought.
When carrying out interviews in the media, David saw himself as an evangelist for aviation, delivering the truth rather than the hype. This wasn’t an interest in the macabre, but a serious belief in improving Flight Safety.
David’s job saw him travelling worldwide representing Flight in aviation conferences, symposiums on Flight Safety, and visiting manufacturers like Boeing and Airbus. Although no longer holding a licence, David found himself either on the jump seat or, while at the manufacturer, occasionally in the pilot’s seat of many types including the A380 and the 737 Max. David could - and still can - talk knowledgably about every commercial aircraft in the sky today and their systems. He’s confident that if the pilots had food poisoning, he could take the controls himself and land it, given a bit of vectoring. I’ve no doubts. He has even flown the Spitfire courtesy of Boultbee.
David continued past his 65th birthday, intending to keep working until 70 but as he knew, no-one is irreplaceable and, on the 1st May, 2015, he left the offices in Sutton for the last time as a full-time employee. He was 68. Whilst you can hire younger, cheaper journalists, David’s experience and knowledge is almost irreplaceable and he was invited to continue compiling and writing the Annual Safety Review as Flight International/Flight Global’s Consulting editor. As he joked: “Old journalists never die, they simply fade away.” Even today, Flight will ask David to write articles on subjects he has been following. There is little fade visible.
He does less now, and is glad of the space in which to research things like his grandfather’s time in the RFC. “There is no point in getting sentimental about it. The world moves on and at some stage we all have to step aside.” Interestingly though, David is not intending to step aside any time soon. His interest in aviation is as strong as ever and every morning, he spends 2-3 hours reading the world’s aviation news. I’ve yet to meet someone better informed or more interested in everything that flies. He still contributes to the International News Broadcasting media and to documentary channels like Discovery and National Geographic.
Does he have any regrets? He is still nostalgic about his RAF time, especially when meeting active personnel. He misses the camaraderie and the sense of belonging to that team. The Navy and the RAF were different in style, he recalled. “The Navy, apart from its obvious technical expertise, was much more into creating Officers who knew how to throw a party and represent the UK socially at home and abroad – a warship is a mobile embassy as well as a weapon. The RAF was more grounded, but we all had our jobs and were very good at them.”
David still maintains that you can’t be a really good aviation journalist without a serious interest and an experience of what it’s like to pilot an aircraft. He still has fond memories of solo aerobatics and remembers the amazing realisation that he was being paid to do something so magnificent. The views, the freedom and being part of the RAF team were all very special to David.
David has his own aviation blog: Learmount.com. None of his children went into the career but have all succeeded in their own fields. David still attends RAF reunions, the Royal Aeronautical Association, the RAF Club and keeps busy writing and giving talks to anyone who requests it.
David’s interests continue. He loves reading the Economist and has become very active in local politics. He was deeply depressed by the nation’s Brexit decision, and sees the CAA’s forced departure from EASA as a choice made by political leaders in total ignorance of the real world.
“Yes, it has been a very full life …so far,” and our discussion which was planned for two hours became three before I finally said ‘goodbye’. Would he recommend Aviation Journalism as a career? Absolutely. Does he still enjoy pieces he wrote years ago? He says he’s always surprised at how full of information they are – information he has often forgotten! As he recalls with a smile, the best journalistic advice he ever received was from a female sub-editor during his first week at the magazine who, returned a piece of work exclaiming “That’s not a story, it’s a f-----g essay.”
David’s life has certainly been an exciting and varied story but I’m sure we are nowhere near the final chapter.
© David Hoy