Merlin training at RNAS Culdrose

WELCOME to the University of Merlin.

Nothing to do with Hogwarts, Discworld or any other wizard-related tomfoolery (a seam deeply mined by our Puns Editor – Ed).

This is a shining example of joined-up thinking – a squadron which integrates the training of its aircrew and engineers before sending them out of the door to an operational unit – and is now leading the Royal Navy into a new age of Merlin.

And the Commanding Officer of 824 NAS, Cdr Gavin Richardson, says Merlin capability starts at their front door.

The front door in question is the modest entrance to the massive MTF, or Merlin Training Facility – the aforementioned University of Merlin.

The key to its success lies in the structure of the courses – but that is not the most eye-catching facet.

That honour lies with the training aids, a far too modest term for some serious kit.

Top of the list is the Cockpit Dynamic Simulator (CDS) – and my chance to get my hands on “the most expensive xBox in the world,” as one member of the squadron described it.

Housed in a vast chamber and looking like a Martian tripod from the War of the Worlds, trainees enter the simulator across a lofty bridge.

I was introduced to my pilot for the next 45 minutes or so, simulator instructor Lt Craig Howe, and clambered into the right-hand seat, from which the real aircraft is normally flown.

As we fastened our harnesses, Lt Cdr Gary Jaggers, Officer-in-Charge of the MTF, sat behind us to help run the simulation.

With the engine noise turned down to allow us to hear each other – the roar adds to the realism – Lt Howe pointed out of the virtual windscreen.

“Do you see that large grey box-like building? That is where we are right now...”

The officer cranked up the engines and we began to taxi away from where we were (and where we still were, if you follow me), the cockpit bumping gently as our make-believe Merlin crossed the joins in the virtual concrete apron.

We took off from Runway 12 and although the view from the cockpit is not photo-realistic, it was good enough for me to gaze out and enjoy the view of the air station as we banked to the south-west and headed out to sea.

The simulator, like the real aircraft, requires light handling, and does not particularly like sudden, violent movements.

“We start pilot training on a light aircraft, which needs a light touch, and the first helicopter we fly – the Squirrel – is the same,” said Lt Howe.

“So by the time we get to the heavier helicopters, any heavy-handedness should be beaten out of us.”

Lt Cdr Jaggers said: “Fundamental to crew training is the deck landing, and as you will see, this is ideal practice.”

First stop was RFA Argus, and – as with the rest of the simulator – the level of accuracy was impressive.

“Most UK airfields are represented on the simulator, but the ones we use more often are modelled to a better level than the others,” said Lt Cdr Jaggers.

“Worldwide we can do the Falklands, Gibraltar – the ones we are likely to come across.

“But certainly we have got all the UK military airfields.

“And it is amazing how quickly you forget you are in a simulator...”

Argus steamed into view below us and Lt Howe banked the simulator steeply to approach upwind. I clung on to the seat as the visual and physical signals suggested we were moving a great deal more than we actually were.

Argus looked good – her paintwork and hull were completely unblemished by the cyber elements – but the layout of her deck was bang up-to-date.

In-house technical staff keep a close eye on what is going on with a ship; in the case of Argus, there were some green-edged boxes on the deck which are fairly new – the simulated Argus had been remodelled to mimic the real ship, including recently-changed deck markings.

Lt Howe landed us safely on her flight deck despite the fact he was in the ‘wrong’ seat, using the simple maxim ‘get it doing what you want and keep it there till you need to change (ie use the controls as little as possible).

Then it was my turn – my first launch from the flight deck of a moving ship.

It was untidy, it was uncontrolled and it was nerve-racking but we lifted off (though not steadily nor vertically), so I suppose that counts as a success.

Next we moved on to HMS Iron Duke, taking a close look at a Russian Akula-class submarine which was cruising just south of the Lizard in our exercise area.

As we descended the sea was ruffled by the heavy downdraft from our virtual Merlin.

As we approached Iron Duke we had to hold off; a computer-generated Flight Deck Officer waved off a Lynx before marshalling us in.

“The Type 23 is a lot closer to the water than Argus – the flight deck is about 16ft off the sea, as opposed to 46-48ft with Argus,” said Lt Howe, who wryly describes himself as a simulator display pilot.

“It is much more intimate – everything is much closer, but the procedure is the same.

“The Type 23 is really challenging for young pilots.”

Our final visit was to HMS Dauntless, which was wallowing in a big sea; Lt Howe showed what happens when it all goes wrong, leaving us bobbing upside-down in the wake of the destroyer.

It took a couple of keystrokes to set the situation right, and although students learn from their mistakes, instructors are careful not to put them in too many tight spots.

“We have to be careful we do not shake a young pilot’s – or anyone’s for that matter – confidence,” said Lt Cdr Jaggers. “Not too much terror...”

Lt Howe said landing is a simple matter really – just putting the machine down on the ‘bum line’ – a mark on the deck which correlates with the pilot’s seat in the helicopter.

The CDS also hinted at the real aircraft’s sophistication.

“You can preset speed, height and target co-ordinates, and the aircraft follows the computed course into a steady hover – you let it fly itself,” said Lt Cdr Jaggers.

“In the real aircraft we would keep our hands on the controls in case something goes wrong.”

Simulation in the world of Merlins is nothing new – aircrew and engineers have been training this way for the best part of a decade.

And one real benefit of the simulation is the saving of time – instead of making Merlin fly simulator miles to reach a submarine, it is easier and quicker to move the submarine to the Merlin.

Back in the real world of the MTF there were other simulators to see – maybe not quite as eye-catching, but every bit as important to the training process.

Two cabins house Rear Crew Trainers (RCTs), where trainee aircrew can get to grips with the electronic kit found behind the cockpit of a Merlin.

It is a simple task to link the displays of the RCTs to the CDS, allowing a full simulated mission despite the fact the students are in different parts of the building.

Whatever the pilot can see (or cannot see if it is dark or murky) from the cockpit is reproduced exactly in radar or sonar form.

And while the pilots invariably grab the limelight, the folk in the back working on the screens are trained to be peerless operators of sophisticated sonics and sonar equipment which are critical to the success of anti-submarine operations.

For the pilots there is also a Cockpit Procedural Trainer (CPT) which does not have the visuals and motion of the CDS but allows students to go through cockpit drills using exactly the same controls, switches, buttons and displays as they will use in the real thing.

Merlin normally flies with a three-strong crew – a single pilot, an observer (basically an airborne Principal Warfare Officer) and an aircrewman; the first two are officers, the latter an NCO.

Although the 13-month aircrew courses are in the minority at the MTF, they last longer and absorb most training resources; the fact that they are split 65:35 in favour of simulated training gives some indication as to the savings made in terms of air time, fuel costs and the fact that training is much less weather-dependent than before the advent of such accurate simulations.

The second, and more populous, training stream is that of the air engineers, and they have their own Merlins to play with.

In a curriculum moving towards computer-aided training – similar to computer-based training, but with an instructor present to ease them along at their own pace – the fledgling engineers start in a series of educational suites on the ground floor – the MTF has an in-house network of 14 servers, 83 workstations and 33 laptops.

They move from theory to Part Task Trainers, where a student’s computerised lesson prompts him or her to press a button or flick a switch to achieve an effect, which the student does on a real piece of kit linked to the network.

When ready they move on to the Mechanical Systems Trainer (MST).

The trainer is based on the upper part of the aircraft; it has rotors (although the blades are stubs), full transmission and hydraulic machinery, and myriad faults can be programmed in by instructors for trainees to tackle.

It is configured exactly the same as the real Merlin, and students can even practise changing engines as if in the confined space of a Type 23 frigate using a Hoist Boom Assembly.

Next door is the Weapon Systems Trainer (WST) – “the Merlin Cabriolet,” as Lt Cdr Jaggers describes it, as it is simply the lower part of the aircraft.

“This is used to train on weapons, the undercarriage, sonar, the deck grab and so on,” said Lt Cdr Jaggers.

“We can practise loading and unloading, and with the Mk 2 Merlin we can do the machine gun as well as the depth charges and Stingray torpedo.”

Students gradually build up skill and experience at working on the equipment, whether in normal light or in degrees of darkness, gaining confidence in their abilities as they progress.

And the fact they are working on virtually the real thing means different courses can come in and share the same kit, whether aircrew or engineers.

WO2 Chris Pugh said: “We have got the best training rig here.

“We basically train AETs all the way to COs designate. We do initial aircraft training – we are one big combined unit, and it all works very well.”

Interest in the world of Merlins extends beyond the Naval Service – WO Pugh said there is an NCO from the Parachute Regiment on the squadron’s books.

“He has done about six tours in Afghanistan, but he is now training and will join the Royal Navy,” said WO Pugh.

“He doesn’t want to be Junglie, though – he has spent his life being shot at, so he wants to do anti-submarine warfare.”

The foundation stone of the MTF was laid in 1998 and the building opened for business ten years ago as a cutting-edge training centre with a price tag of £150 million.

But now Merlin Mk 2 is approaching fast, and with 824 Squadron in the vanguard of the transition, upgrading is required – something in the order of £65 million.

The airframe and primary flying controls on the new aircraft will be largely unchanged, but the cockpit, avionics and mission systems are extensively modified.

“The current equipment is now old technology,” said Lt Cdr Jaggers.

“There is going to be big investment in the simulator, which will be like going from a 486 chip to a Pentium Plus.

“We will be able to upgrade, plug and play to a far greater extent than before.”

The guts will be ripped out of the various boxes and cabins by Canadian firm CAE, a world leader in simulator technology, and new kit installed.

The CPT was due to be taken offline for upgrading on the last day of 2011, with one of the RCTs following at the end of this month and the CDS in March.

The MST switch starts in April and the WST in August – the same month in which Mk 2 training really kicks in – although the squadron will also be keeping Mk 1 training ticking over until the change of aircraft is complete.

Most of the simulator equipment will be superficially similar, although the Martian-style CDS will end up looking more like a Dalek, according to Lt Cdr Jaggers – electric motors will move the device instead of spindly hydraulic legs.

“Our engineers are already working on the Mk 2 at Yeovil – they are a year ahead of the aircrew,” said Lt Cdr Jaggers, adding that the squadron’s training output for both aircrew (before the Mk 2 surge) and engineering (post-Harrier) is at the highest rate since the aircraft’s introduction to service a decade ago.

Of course, there comes a time when the trainees get the chance to test themselves in the real world, and across the road from the MTF is 824 Squadron’s headquarters – and a clutch of genuine, solid, three-dimensional Merlin helicopters.

For most trainees, the transition is practically seamless.

And they do not leave the University of Merlin with just a set of deep military skills.

In partnership with the Open University, successful officers passing through 824 achieve a foundation degree in Military Aviation Studies, whilst aircrew obtain a City and Guilds Level 3 Diploma.

The training facility is set up to provide in excess of 20,000 student training hours each year, from ab-initio to refresher.

Of its 70 or so staff, just under half are Royal Navy instructors – engineer and aircrew – while another 20 are civil servants.

And even outside the simulators, 824’s performance is impressive – the squadron delivers 33 per cent of the Merlin’s flying rate with only 25 per cent of the Navy’s assets.