 It is Saturday, the 6th of September 1952, and test pilot John Douglas Derry DFC prepares his prototype supersonic aircraft to show off over the skies of Farnborough for a waiting and excited crowd. The pilot is highly experienced, cutting his teeth in the skies during World War II. He is the first Britain thought to have exceeded the speed of sound, and this new plane is in safe hands. Derry and his onboard flight observer, Anthony Richards, set off to reach the air show for 3.45pm. The two-seater prototype roars over the baying crowd. It flies past 120,000 large audience in a dramatic display of precision piloting skills the plane pulls up. Suddenly, something seems wrong. The plane has disappeared from view. The aircraft disintegrates under the extreme forces of the display, showering bystanders with debris and one of the two engines plows into the crowd. It would go down in history as one of Britain's worst air shows, and would cast doubt over a fledgling national pride event. Wait until the end for my ratings and let's get started. My name is John and this is a brief history of the 1952 Farnborough Air Show Crash. Our story starts with the closing months of the Second World War. Both the Axis and Allied powers are locked in an arms race that has catapulted aviation development from planes impersonating the First World War like this to warbirds with unbelievable amounts of horsepower. The need for ever faster aircraft would start to render the traditional piston engine driven plane redundant, at least in the fighter role. The UK in the closing stages of World War II was the only member of the Allies to field a jet fighter with the Gloucester Meteor. The second fighter jet the UK would field was manufactured by the Haveland and was called the Vampire. It first saw service in 1946 and became a staple in the RAF fleet. What was interesting and unique with the Vampire was its dual tail configuration. So much so were the Haveland enamoured with this design that for the next project the twin boom tail concept would be developed upon. Starting in 1946, the Haveland entered talks with the British Admiralty to develop a new or weather radar equipped supersonic fighter jet. Because of these specifications the design would require a two person crew, one to operate navigation and radar equipment as well as a pilot. Two engines for redundancy were also specced due to working over large bodies of water and a reliably short takeoff and landing distance for working in aircraft carriers. The new plane which would gain the internal designation DH110 would borrow the twin boom tail from the Vampire. The RAF seemed to show a promising interest in the 110 and ordered 9 prototypes. But a worried Admiralty cut off its interest in the 110. The RAF would also pull back its orders from 9 to just 2 prototypes in 1949. The Haveland, who were very experienced in working with the UK government, decided to carry on with the project in the hopes that mines can be changed later on and orders would materialise. On the 26th of September 1951 the first prototype airframe took to the skies at Hatfield Aerodrome. The new aircraft exceeded expectations, originally only thought to be able to hit supersonic speeds in a slight dive, but design actually allowed this to be achieved in level flight. A second and improved prototype would also be built to show off the DH110 in night fighter form, being given the identification number Whiskey Gulf 240, with the first prototype given the number Whiskey Gulf 236. The Farnborough airshow was devised as a way to boost trade for the British aerospace and defence industries through means of spectacular aeronautical displays and static exhibitions. Post-war Britain represented the cutting edge in technology, and after its commencement in 1948 some truly impressive designs were shown off in the hopes of generating foreign orders. The show would consist of Monday to Friday open for trade only displays, followed by the weekend for the public. As a side note, I used to love going to Farnborough. My dad used to work for BAE, and we got trade day tickets. I saw the Eurofighter there. In the first year, the futuristic armstrong Whitworth AW-52 flying wing was revealed to the public. In 1949 saw the unveiling of the achingly beautiful but tragically flawed Havilland Comet. 1950 saw the insane Bristol Brabazon. 1951 saw Canberra demonstrations as well as sea venoms in flight. And that leads us on to 1952. The 1952 airshow looked to be an exciting display of some new designs, to both trade and public visitors alike. The show on the first day wailed spectators with a supersonic pass from the second DH110 prototype, Whiskey Girl 340. Other aircraft on display was the Vickers Vulcan, the giant swept wing atomic bomber. During the week, the cutting edge of British aviation was shown off and no doubt many a foreign government official wanted to get their hands on some of the hardware on display. The sixth day got off without a hitch. Instead of just trade spectators today, the fields surrounding Farnborough Airport are filled with the public. Some 120,000 people are watching the skies. In the afternoon, the new prototype DH110 is set to exhibit supersonic flight for the audience. But as pilot John Derry, an onboard flight test observer, Anthony Richards, make their way to collect the jet Blackfighter, a spanner is thrown into works. The aircraft set to wow the spectators is out of action. The two are faced with the decision to cancel the display or... You see, there was an alternative, Whiskey Golf 236, but it was parked up at De Havilland's factory rather than at Farnborough. The first prototype, instead of being Black, was a bright silver. The pilot and his crew make climb aboard a De Havilland dove to make their way to where Whiskey Golf 236 was being stored. The two agreed to take this out instead. The plan was to be an identical display from the first day. After all, it was Derry who was also at the controls. So in theory, there should be no difference. Same plane, same show. Whiskey Golf 236 takes off from De Havilland's factory in Hatfield, Hertfordshire. The plane flew across to Farnborough for a 1545 beginning display. The sky is blue, if but scattered with clouds. The conditions allow the spectators to follow the DH110 as it approaches the display. Derry approaches from west as a high altitude, roughly 40,000 feet. He enters his plane into a high speed dive, reaching Mach 1 for the audience to experience a sonic boom. The DH110 flies along the runway from the west at high speed. The aircraft then turns left to port at a speed of around 450 knots. Almost as soon as he banks, Derry then pulls into a steep climb. The aircraft, under the immense force loading, began to separate. The outer section of the wings, both engines and the cockpit were flung from the airframe. The crew compartment fell into the ground near the runway right in front of the spectators, injuring a few from the impact. One eyewitness would say it was like silver confetti. The remaining parts of the aircraft would be far more deadly, however. The announcer over the tannoy system called out rather onamously to watch out for the engines. One of the two Avro engines flew over the heads of the crowd and crashed into the roof of a hangar. But the other one hurtled into the densely packed observation hill. It would be here that most of the casualties would be inflicted. Once the dust settled, the crowd ran in to help the injured. Over the tannoy, the announcer immediately started asking for any photos or cinephilms to be given to the RAE for any pending investigation. The two aircraft crew and 29 civilians in the crowd were killed as well as 60 injured. Needless to say, the cause had to be found. Was it pilot error, the plane, or even both? It looked unlikely to be the fault of Derry, as many of his contemporaries at the time stated that he was a conscientious pilot. His career was, as for a 30 year old, full of experience from 1944 during World War II, gaining a distinguished flying cross. After the war, he then joins the Haveland as a test pilot. It seemed like operator error was unlikely as his display was pretty much the same as just a few days before. This refocused investigators back onto the plane itself. And moreover, the difference between Whiskey Golf 240 and Whiskey Golf 236. Well, the point of the prototype is to test out different aspects of the design. And due to this, the two planes had a simple but glaring difference. Whiskey Golf 236 and Whiskey Golf 240, when originally built, had a large boundary layer fence on each outer wing. This metal added stiffness. However, as part of the DH-110's development, and in an effort to improve low speed performance on Whiskey Golf 236, this metal fence was replaced with a wooden one. The weaker wood contributed to a wing of only 65% the strength of this metal fence counterpart. The manoeuvre Derry was attempting was a rolling pull up. This put twisting force on the outer wings. As he moved the stick to the right and back to level the wings and pull the nose of the aircraft up, a downward load on the rear of the outer portion of the starboard wing was created whilst raising the nose would have generated an upward load on the whole wing. The weakened wing was unable to cope with the forces and tragically the outer part of the starboard wing ripped off. This in turn put greater force on the other wing. This caused a sudden pitch up, putting an estimated force of 30G on the crew compartment. Surprisingly, the accident wasn't the end of the DH-110. Although it was grounded, a new modified version would take to the skies in 1954. The DH-110 would eventually be developed into a navalised version called the Sea Vixen. Although its supersonic abilities were removed, it said only having a top speed of around 0.95 Mach. The Sea Vixen would serve in the Royal Navy until 1972, when it was retired and replaced by the F4 Phantom. Interestingly, the Phantom was procured after the failure of TSR2, which although was not a disaster, I kind of want to make a video on the dumpster fire of its development. Air shows in the UK were completely revamped to improve safety, with crowd controls and minimum distances that air manoeuvres can be undertaken, and these rules were seen to work pretty well for 63 years or so until the Shoram Air Crash of 2015. Now where would you rate this on my scales? I think I'm going to put it at around a 4 for the disaster scale and about a 6 for the historical legacy scale. Do you agree? This is a plain difficult production. All videos on the channel are Creative Commons attribution share alike licensed. Plain difficult videos are produced by me, John, in the currently dark and windy southeastern corner of London UK. Help the channel grow by liking, commenting and subscribing. Check out my Twitter for all sorts of odds and sods as well as hints on future videos. I've got Patreon and YouTube membership as well, so check them out if you fancy supporting the channel financially. And all that's left to say is thank you for watching.