PETER Ponting’s memory of the famous Hastings’ aircraft was that it wasn’t built for comfort.

He writes: “It had metal benches either side of the freight bay to seat approximately 15 fully equipped Paras. It was not pressurised and as a result, most journeys were a bit bumpy because of its ceiling restrictions and lack of oxygen.

“We often flew at zero feet on training exercises to avoid radar detection. I recall one flying to Northern Ireland from RAF Colerne in Wiltshire at tree top and wave top heights, buzzing Radio Caroline en route. “This white-knuckle ride also featured a Land Rover lashed to the floor between our seating positions.”

Mr Ponting, who wrote in after reading Tony O’Gorman’s memories of the “wonderful Hastings” (Memory Lane, February 25), joined the RAF soon after leaving school and worked as an engineer before gaining his wings at the Parachute Training School at RAF Abingdon.

He took his first parachute jump from a Hastings and became familiar with the aircraft during four years’ service in a parachute squadron of the RAF Regiment. He served with his unit from RAF Colerne on many overseas operations, including those in Northern Cyprus, Aden and Zambia.

Mr Ponting recalls: “Our almost continuous partner in most of this activity was the Hastings. There were two other Hastings squadrons at RAF Colerne and we worked on endless training and operational duties as one.

“The Hastings was not the preferred option of the paratroops, not only because of its bare essentials, but because the exit doors were directly behind its large radial engines and you were blown away like a leaf in a hurricane.

“If you did not make a forceful enough exit, you would receive a strap burn in the neck, many twists in your parachute rigging lines and canopy and carry out a ‘rivet inspection’ of the fuselage. This was the rule rather than the exception.

“On a night jump, this could be a little bit of a nuisance as you were usually jumping with 50kg of equipment hooked to your parachute harness.

“If you were No 1 to jump, it meant leaning on the open door aperture waiting for the green light to go. This could sometimes last for ages if the pilot could not drop on the first run-in. At night, you could feel the draught and noise from the engines, watch the flames from the exhausts and smell the petrol and oil fumes.

“Obviously, we didn’t have a choice in which aircraft we were carried, but it was a treat to jump sometimes from a Beverley or Argosy. We used the Bev on heavy-drop missions, the heavy stuff going out of the doorless freight bay and the rigging team jumping through an aperture in the floor of the large tail or boom.”

Despite the discomforts and occasional hazards, Mr Ponting, who lives in Wheatley, has happy memories of his military career. “They were happy days. I feel extremely lucky and privileged to have been a member of HM Forces and feel so sorry for those who haven’t.”