On Sunday, 16th November Ron McPartland, Ireland’s only Irish Air Corps Ejectee, sadly passed away. To mark the occasion, we’re republishing an article by Irish Aviation Historian Michael Traynor. This article was published in the Martin Baker magazine in 2011, at that point it was marking the 50th Anniversary of the first and only ejection from an Irish Air Corps aircraft.
May 2011 marked the 50th anniversary of the first ejection from a military aircraft in Ireland. Cadet Ronald McPartland, a native of Drumshambo, Co. Leitrim, was ordered to eject after a training flight went wrong on 5th May 1961.
The Irish Air Corps introduced jet aircraft to their fleet when the first three Vampire jets (serials 185, 186 and 187) were delivered on the 21st July 1956. These were also the first aircraft in the Irish Air Corps to be equipped with Martin-Baker ejection seats, a safety mechanism created by Co. Down man, Sir James Martin.
At 10.45 on Friday, 5th May 1961, an Irish Air Corps Vampire jet took off from Baldonnel Aerodrome to carry out introductory pilot training on spins and spin recovery in the Mullagh – Kingscourt area of Co. Cavan. In command of Vampire Number 186 was Comdt. Jeremiah B. O’Connor, Officer Commanding Fighter Squadron and a native of Sneem, Co Kerry. His student pilot was 20-year-old Cadet Ronald McPartland, who had 15 months of service with the Irish Air Corps.
The Vampire climbed to 30,000 feet and Comdt. O’Connor prepared the aircraft for the spinning exercise. He reduced the speed to the point of stall and applied harsh right rudder to force the aircraft into a series of slow horizontal gyrations before the nose of the aircraft dropped below the horizon and the aircraft locked into a steep descending spiral with huge centrifugal forces. After counting a number of spins or revolutions about the axis of the aircraft, Comdt. O’Connor initiated standard recovery action of applying opposite rudder to stop the near-vertical spinning but the aircraft failed to respond and continued in a steep vortex towards the ground. Recognising that the standard recovery action was not having any effect, Comdt. O’Connor reversed the procedure and applied opposite rudder which again had no effect on the spinning aircraft.
The descent was so rapid that the 3-pointer altimeter was unreadable, and at approximately 20,000 feet, Comdt. O’Connor reached forward to the centre of the instrument panel and pulled the Canopy Release Handle to unlock the canopy, which was jettisoned with a deafening roar as the full blast of the air was felt by both pilots. Without hesitation, the Cadet pulled his facemask down to fire the Ejection Seat Mechanism and the Martin Baker Mark 3B Seat, complete with Cadet departed the stricken aircraft with an enormous release of power.
Cadet McPartland found himself spinning and descending like a dervish for what seemed an eternity until his parachute opened and he realised that his rate of descent was reducing and he was suspended beneath the billowing parachute in a relatively controlled fashion.
He searched the sky for signs of the Vampire and was sure he got a brief glimpse of it in controlled flight in the far distance before it disappeared from view.
The force of the ejection and the loss of the aircraft canopy seemed to stabilise the aircraft, and it began to respond to the pilot’s control inputs. Comdt. O’Connor decided not to eject and regained control about 5,000 feet above ground. He failed to see the Cadet’s parachute descent and was forced to leave the area and turn towards Baldonnel in the now-open cockpit with huge wind noise and turbulence.
He experienced great difficulty in maintaining radio contact with Baldonnel Air Traffic Control as his radio lead disconnected with the force of the aircraft slipstream and when he reached to reconnect it his arm was swept back by the slipstream and he had to use all of his strength to retrieve the lead and reconnect it before landing safely and stopping the aircraft with limited pneumatic braking.
In the meantime, the Cadet was descending rapidly towards the Cavan countryside without ever having been trained in the use of a parachute or how to land while attached to one. As he had no means of directing the parachute or of influencing the rate of its descent, he focused his efforts on avoiding a nearby lake. His attempts to control the descent caused the parachute to oscillate wildly and he opted instead to focus on his eventual landing area.
He saw a man on a donkey and cart in a bog nearby but when he tried to attract the man’s attention the man looked up and immediately drove his cart away without looking back. The Cadet touched down, rolled over a few times and sat up uninjured in a heap of parachute silk on the wet ground. He had a brief glimpse of the man and his cart leaving the area in considerable haste.
Having gathered the billowing parachute and placed it in a bundle the Cadet made his way across the fields towards a farmhouse with smoke coming from its chimney.
Describing the scene following his descent, Cadet McPartland said: “l knocked on the half-open door through which I could see two elderly men drinking tea. They looked at me in disbelief (l was still wearing my helmet) and one of them half rose and blessed himself. The other asked me if I was a spaceman.
I replied I was merely a member of the Irish Air Corps who had to leave my aeroplane in a hurry. They initially declined to drive me to the nearest Garda station and indicated the direction of the town of Mullagh ‘over the hill.’ After I had travelled a few hundred yards across the field I was called back and asked if payment would be made for the journey to Mullagh and after my assurance that it would, the householder, Mr Muldoon drove me to the local Garda Station.”
On the way to Mullagh, however, they met a local man and his wife in their car and they informed Ronald that the aeroplane had crashed some distance away and he feared the worst for Comdt. O’Connor. He was shocked at this as he believed he had seen the aircraft in controlled flight during his parachute descent.
After a very welcome cup of tea from the Sergeant’s wife, a phone call from Mullagh Garda Station to Baldonnel confirmed that the aircraft had returned to base and landed safely. An Irish Air Corps car was sent to Mullagh and brought Cadet McPartland to Gormanston Aerodrome where he was later flown by Chipmunk to Baldonnel. The ejection seat and canopy were recovered about 3 miles from where Cadet McPartland had landed.
Eight months later, on 26th January 1962, James Martin, aged 69 years, hosted a dinner at the Dorchester Hotel, London to celebrate the saving of 500 lives with his ejection seat. This was the culmination of 17 years of development work. The newly-commissioned Officer, Lieutenant Ronald McPartland, attended and was singled out for special attention by James Martin, who expressed his delight that: “The Ejection Seat designed by a man from the ‘Wee North’ had saved the life of a fellow-Irishman from the Irish Free-State.”
To date Ronald McPartland is the only pilot to eject from an Irish Air Corps aircraft.
