Noel A. Lamont

I first met Noel in 1968 when, as an aspiring new pilot, I attended his evening lectures on commercial pilot navigation in Melbourne and, in later years, his Senior Commercial and Air Transport Licence lectures in Perth and Melbourne. Over these years, we developed a long and warm friendship.

On May 31st, 1991, on one of my last flights before retiring, I was privileged to taxi a Cessna Citation Jet up to the school at Moorabbin, where Noel was working, pick him up, and take him for a thirty-minute flight out over Port Phillip Bay.

The following is chronicled from various sources, including official records and certificates, personal photos from Noel, press articles, Mr Lutz Bartels's address on October 3, 2005, and recollections of our many conversations over our nearly forty-year friendship.

Adrian Skehan

Noel Alistaire Lamont, was born in Barcaldean Qld. In mid-1918, to Florence and William Lamont, he was the firstborn of twins; tragically, his twin sister died as the result of a horse riding accident when they were teenagers. Noel was educated in Queensland and proved to be an excellent student, earning high grades in his exams. On leaving school, he served two years of a Pharmaceutical Chemistry apprenticeship under L. A. Wilkins at Rockhampton. On the 5th of December 1939, he enlisted in the Army in Brisbane. He was assigned to the 42nd Battalion, but, as Noel described it, his association with the army was unhappy, so he ‘schemed’ his way out of the Army and into the RAAF.

His Mustering on enlistment was Clerk General; in April 1941, he was Re-Mustered to Aircrew and transferred to the Elementary Flying Training Schools (EFTS) at Sandgate, Archerfield and Amberley. In December 1941, he moved to the Operational Training Units (OTU) Nhill, Archerfield, Western Junction Tasmania and Mildura. He joined 84 Squadron in April 1943. From enlistment to April 1944, he progressed through the ranks of Corporal (Acting), AC1, AC2, LAC, Sargent (T), Flight Sargent, and Warrant Officer (T); on the January 1, 1946, he was commissioned Warrant Officer.

His postings were many within Australia, where he flew various fighter aircraft. He was posted to Morotai and Morseby on active service between March and July 1945. He was shot down on combat operations over the Pacific islands north of New Guinea by a Japanese fighter.

He said that as he emerged from a dense cloud bank, he was suddenly attacked from behind; he guessed the jap must have been able to see him or his silhouette and had been following him and pounced as soon as he flew into clear air; He took evasive action “everything in the forward left corner” meaning full left rudder, the sticker (control column) full forward and full left deflection while at full power; he said that when he recovered the aircraft from the ensuing violent manoeuvre, he was over the ocean and losing height rapidly. The only land within his reach was a small island with a very short beach. Even though he was wounded, he could still control his Kittyhawk, which had sustained mortal damage; he put it down on the short stretch of beach, which was inadequate for the aircraft in any circumstances. It crashed into a rocky outcrop at the end of the beach. Unable to exit the wreck, he lay wounded in it for about two days before a P.T. boat arrived to recover the body of the presumed deceased pilot; the crew was amazed to find him alive.

He returned to Australia in May 1945 and flew with the 23 Squadron, a dive-bombing unit that was part of the Battle of Brisbane Line. In this battle, the combined forces of Australia and the USA were to fight to the “last man” against the forecast Japanese invasion.

Of the eleven crashes that Noel experienced during WWII, he escaped, all without serious injuries. One serious crash was while flying Wirraways’ on a dive bombing practice flight when the supercharger failed, resulting in a significant loss of power, and was streaming so much oil over his windscreen that he had no forward visibility; without thinking his actions through, he slid the canopy back and tried to look outside; immediately, his eyes were filled with hot engine oil that blinded him completely; fortunately, he had agreed to take an army officer with him on this occasion, which was not permitted but there were frequent request from non-aviation personal to go for a ride, the officer was able to guide him back to the airstrip and to get it on the ground all be it in more than one piece.

On another occasion at Archerfield, he had just touched down when another aircraft taxied out in front of him; with no room to stop, he applied full power to initiate a go-around; he was able to clear the offending aircraft but, once again, the supercharger failed, and a landing straight ahead was the only option, the aircraft eventually came to rest having ploughed into a bomb dump adjacent to the airport scattering bombs all over the place as luck would have it none were armed thus avoiding an explosion.

Another extraordinary event he spoke of occurred on yet another of his divebombing practice flights when, as he initiated the bomb run dive, the band on his wristwatch failed, and the much-cherished watch his father had given him flew out of the open cockpit; the bombing range covered a large area, and although he was resigned to never seeing the watch again he thought he must at least go and have a look, he said that when he arrived at the range he fully realised the hopelessness of the search, never the less he stepped out of the car and was astounded to see the missing watch at his feet and undamaged.

Noel could attest that the incidents depicted here involved the Wirraway, an aircraft notorious for blowing superchargers.

Neither was he shy in relating the rash or foolhardy stunts that young pilots got up to, especially if there was a valuable lesson to be learnt in practical terms: Compression (occurring ahead of a fast-moving aircraft) featured in Noels lectures on aircraft performance. He gave me an account of his frightening experience with it that took the theory out of the textbooks and planted it indelibly in his mind. He explained that just after the war ended, while having a few ales in the officer's mess one evening in Townsville, a guest journalist of some renown was bemoaning the fact that he had flown in most military aircraft during the war but never in a Spitfire; so Noel volunteered to take him up (still not legal) and arranged to meet him at the airfield at dawn the following day; the aircraft had only a pilot seat, so Noal scrounged up a couple of boxes which he was able to squeeze in behind his seat; His passenger duly arrived, and they took off into the early morning sky; after demonstrating the aircraft's capabilities, he returned to the airstrip, as he overflew the base he noticed that the front and rear doors of one hanger were wide open, on the spur of the moment Noel said he made the stupidest decision of his life in deciding to fly through this open hanger. He wheeled around and lined up on the hanger at close to 300 kts (550 kilometres per hour); the excitement was building, and all went well until he arrived at the hanger threshold when the considerable amount of compressed air in his nose had nowhere to go; he said it was like hitting a brick wall a surprise that shocked him to the core, but in an instant, they passed through without incident, he landed as quickly as he could.

He said that he was very shaken by the experience and, on further reflection, realised that if a chain block or similar had been left hanging from the ceiling or an early arriving vehicle had entered the hangar, it would have been disastrous. However, it did leave him with a full appreciation of Compression.

By June 1945, he had accrued a total of 918:10 flight hours. He held the dubious honour of being the most crashed pilot in the RAAF and was dubbed “Pranger Lamont.”

‍ During his post-war duties, he accrued some 600 hours on Spitfires and 1,300 hours on the P51 Mustang; he also had a short stint on Catalina Flying Boats, crewing as navigator on a ferry flight to the US.

The courage of those war-time fighter pilots can not be overestimated; while they seem to put it down to not knowing any better, the fighters they flew were high-powered and heavy, with only a few hours experience on light bi-planes, their transition training was minimal or by today's standards was virtually non-existent; fighters had only one seat, so their ‘endorsement training’ usually consisted of some general instruction on the ground, a couple high speed taxing exercises with an instructor sitting on the wing. If you returned in one piece, you were considered endorsed and ready to go. Many pilots did not survive such brief introductions on aircraft, which often had an excess of 1,700 horsepower. Loss of life during the endorsement training was not an uncommon event.

After watching an ABC television programme about a modern-day pilot who was about to go through an original WWII, 9-hour combat flight training course on a Spitfire, Lutz Bartels rang Noel and asked him what he thought of that. Noel laughed and said, “I wish I had done 9 hours in the air before I flew the Spitfire solo. I received about a couple hours of basic instructions on the ground; the rest was up to me.”

Noel rarely spoke of the occasions that he had an enemy aircraft in his sights during combat around New Guinea and the top end of Australia or his reconnaissance flights over Japan shortly after the Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.

His contribution to the war effort was duly recognised. Noel was awarded an A.E.A. (Air Efficiency Award); Mentioned in Dispatch (M.i.D.) (a formal military recognition for bravery or distinguished service); the Dutch Government awarded him the Flying Cross Medal (for a display of initiative, courage and perseverance against the enemy during flight in an aircraft). The latter accolade was awarded to him by Queen Beatrice of the Netherlands for rescuing the Dutch ambassador and his family from Indonesia in a daring night rescue; Noel had to land at night on a makeshift landing strip on a mountaintop carved out of the jungle by local tribesmen and lit with some kerosene lamps so he could find it. Landing at night and taking off again without runway lights in an overloaded aircraft took remarkable planning and skill.

He returned there sometime later and was given a wooden shield that local tribesmen had crafted. The shield featured the story of the man who came from the air, and Noel was made an honorary warrior.

In 1947, Noel was chosen to attend the Royal British Test Pilot School. (An honour that few Australian pilots shared with him) He stayed in England until 1948 and, after his graduation, was sent to the USA to attend a Navy Strike & Assault course. He completed the course successfully and was awarded the US Navy Wings. On returning to Australia, he progressed to the position of Squadron Leader of the Laverton Test & Ferry Squadron. His duties then included the test flying of Spitfire aircraft after their assembly at Fisherman’s Bend in Melbourne.

The war was a dramatic time in Noel’s life, turning him into the firm and enduring man he remained for the rest of his life. He was an immensely proud yet humble man who never made much of his time as a fighter pilot during WWII. For him, it was a matter-of-fact period of his life, and like so many returned service members, it was a task that had to be done. Nevertheless, it was the beginning of his lifelong affiliation with the aviation industry, and his contribution to the war effort cannot be overlooked.

Soon after Noel left the RAAF, he joined TAA (Trans Australia Airlines). As part of his training, he completed a Flight Navigator Training Course requiring him to navigate the world accurately using terrestrial references only as the early mariners did for hundreds of years. He was subsequently sent to France, where he flew over 200 hours with Air France as a Navigator on a Superconstellation aircraft. Later, he flew DC3, DC4, DC9, Viscounts, Lockheed Electras and Boeing 727 as a pilot for TAA.

After surviving WWII's hair-raising and dangerous times, Noel’s flying career ended in a TAA transfer vehicle, which was involved in a road accident on the way to the crew's hotel. The accident left Noel with double vision; unfortunately, he never flew again. At the end of his flying career, Noel had accumulated close to 27000 flying hours in 43 different military and six different civilian aircraft types. This, indeed, is a staggering record by anyone’s standards.

Losing your flying licence is one of the most devastating things that can happen to a pilot. Noel never lost his spirit over it and now concentrated on his academic goals. His life changed dramatically as he became a dedicated university student. Noel accomplished a Master of Science Degree in Astrophysics at the University of Sussex (England) and a Master of Arts Degree in English Literature and Lexocology at the University of Sydney. His research again took him worldwide, where he spent extensive time in Sweden, England and Peru. He had furthermore started working on a PhD on the concept of time, which he had never completed.

Lutz Bartels wrote: Noel, still a passionate aviator, then found a business partner and started a flying school in Essendon. The business venture was a success, and Noel became involved in lecturing on aviation theory, which is an integral part of pilot training. After some years, Noel’s involvement with the business ended, and he moved on to become the Chief Ground Instructor of one of Australia’s largest Flying Schools at Moorabbin Airport.

This is where I met Noel for the first time in 1991. He was in charge of the ground school activities and lectured on navigation and aircraft performance for the airline transport pilot licence. Noel was a witty and unpretentious person who had earned enormous respect from many students and his peers. I soon realised that Noel was one of the country's most recognised and highly respected Aviation Theory lecturers. Pilots arrived from all over Australia to accomplish their highest aviation studies under his guidance. Even Ansett Airlines sent their Flight Engineers as part of their pilot conversion training. Noel was an outstanding teacher who drew heavily from his extensive academic background. He was exceptionally knowledgeable and could develop his mathematical shortcuts to ease the complexity of his teaching subjects. This earned him much gratitude and appreciation from his students. Noel was committed to his job and each student's progress. He wrote thousands of examples and training exercises in his spare time at home, which he gave his students as part of their tuition. Selfless as he was, Noel passed on all his study material to other lecturers when he finally retired from the industry due to health reasons.

Noel and I stayed in touch after his retirement and developed a close friendship over the years. He has been a caring and loyal friend to me and has always taken great interest in my personal and family’s journey through life. Over the years, I introduced him to many of my friends, most of whom were half his age. Noel left a lasting impression on all of them. On learning about Noel’s passing, one of our friends, a doctor at Monash University who had met Noel a few times, told me: “Noel was such a modest, sensitive and gentle man, yet he was such a charismatic giant”. On many occasions, we encouraged him to write down his life story. Unfortunately, he never did. He did not consider his life remarkable enough to share it with others.

In 2003, the city of Geelong invited Noel as the guest of honour to attend a reception at the Avalon Airshow. The reception featured many US fighter pilots in Australia to demonstrate some of the most sophisticated aircraft on the planet. Noel was officially introduced to the other guests, and later on, he had ample time to talk to his peers. You would have rarely witnessed so many elite professionals paying much respect to one individual. Noel was chuffed and even decided to wear his medals, which he was asked to bring along. He wore them for half an hour. He considered that long enough as he did not want to overdo it.

Another time, we took Noel to the Point Cook Air Museum. At the time, a Mustang Air display took place outside. At the end of the flight, the aircraft taxied in and parked in front of the small crowd. The commentator asked whether anybody in the crowd had a question for the pilot, who was also a Qantas 747 Captain.

My wife piped up and said that she didn’t have a question, but she had someone with her who had flown Mustangs for over 1300 hrs, and maybe the display pilot had some questions he would like to ask. We stayed on long after the crowd had dispersed as the Qantas Captain wanted to talk to Noel. Eventually, he invited Noel to sit in the Mustang's cockpit. This was easier said than done, as there were no ladders around. At the time, Noel had significant difficulties walking due to a knee injury and was far from being able to climb into an aeroplane cockpit that did not have an access door. It was an enormous struggle, but we finally got him in. It was a blast from the past for Noel, and you could see a beautiful glow on his face as he finally sat in the cockpit of a Mustang again. 1 thought we would need a crane to get him back on the ground, but Noel had a fighting spirit, and somehow he managed to get back down.

Noel was considered an outstanding human being amongst his aviator peers who deserved nothing but the utmost respect. He was one of the last survivors of the Australian RAAF pilots who served during WWII. People were mesmerised by what he revealed about his life in his modest way.

We will miss Noel. He was such a gentle and truthful person. He was fiercely independent and, right to the end of his life, did not want help or pity for the endless pain his body had to endure. He never complained and accepted his extensive physical ailments as a matter of fact. I will miss him dearly, not for his life story but for the excellent and warm person he was.

Lutz Bartels 3 October 2005.

‍

Capt. Noel A. Lamont DFC, M.I.D, A.E.A, VK (Holland).

MSc. (Master of Science, University Sussex)

BSc. (Bachelor of Science, University Sydney)

B.A. (Bachelor of Art, University Melbourne)

M.A. (Master of Management, University Sydney)

Qld. University Diploma of Engineering.

F.S. Nav. Master Pilot. (UK Guild of Pilots. Fellow of the Royal Society, an English Society for Scientific Study)

D.F.C. (Distinguished Flying Cross).

M.i.D. (Mentioned in Dispatches for Meritorious Service).

A.E.A. Air Efficiency Award (Officers only)