Jack O'Ferrall
Former UKGPL Moderators
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Posts: 904
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« Reply #4 on: July 21, 2008, 12:37:16 AM +0100 » |
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REED, MARQUE, LEARN: THE JACK O’FERRALL STORY
Silverstone July 20
…..‘Hi Jack.’ Tom was back to his usual self-satisfied self, damn. ‘Don’t say “Hi” Tom, its just a short step from that to “Hi-de-hi campers” and then we'll all end up in some docile forced humour camp run by pitiless Stalinist lawyers.’ ‘You know Jack, you're a crank, has anyone ever told you before? You'll have to smarten your act up for the cameras though.’ ‘Eh? What cameras?’ I'm sure that Tom saw cameras everywhere he went, that's why he was so rarely out of his tailored suits. ‘The television people want an interview with our drivers after the Lime Rock win, but Ian's been nabbed by Loot to entertain the nobility, so you'll have to do. Don't tell them anything that might get you in front of a shrink.’ To convey the full smugness of this might be unpleasant. ‘What? I've got nothing to say- Tom, you have to get me out of this. I can't be on “Call My Bluff”, I'm crap at guessing and word games. I even believed you that time I knocked over my letters at Scrabble and you said it meant I'd resigned.’ Even Tom couldn't ignore this heartfelt moaning. He pointed out that it since it was unlikely that I'd ever have any corners named after me, I could explain about Loot's family motto, as an anecdote. Burley has an unusual curved entrance, and either Loot had obtained his motto ‘Go Around The Bend’ from ownership of the house, or they'd been drawn together by sheer peculiarity, since the house had previously been owned by African missionaries. Tom suggested that this would keep them off my past as Feralski, deserter from the Red Air Force. However, the cameras had already arrived and I had to do it. Finally I dressed up as a mechanic, clowned around and got through it somehow. The girl was quite pretty and not too modest, that helped. I'd almost got away with it when she asked why I wasn't getting suited up. Apparently for the last segment they wanted me to race a plane round Silverstone. Tom chose this opportunity for his reappearance ‘They wanted a Spitfire Jack, but I've negotiated them down to a biplane, after all, you're not the top Reed driver.’ ‘A biplane is still an aircraft Tom. I'll take more than a hundred million dollars to make one of Bell's cars as fast an aircraft.’ 'You're going to let a nice girl like that down because you can't face losing a race? You might even gain on the corners, there's a first time for everything.’ So, and only after strongly renewed hints of possible debaucheries, I allowed myself to be persuaded into a three lap race, since the biplane hadn't turned up and it seemed it might have crashed. I set off in front of a cheering crowd, very knowledgeable these British race fans, when all of a sudden there was a roaring noise and wheels flashed in front of my helmet. The worst lap was the second, when it flew six inches above my head the entire lap, but it also rolled around a few times during the other laps to wait for me to catch up. At the end it did an enormous loop before the finish and then swooped down to touch its wheels on the ground and take the flag. It got tremendous applause and the television girl went off with the pilot.
However, that was not to be the full extent of my humbling that weekend. Loot had organised a party at the BRDC to celebrate Ian's triumph and in anticipation of his second successive win at Silverstone. ‘The finest drive I have witnessed since the golden days of Graham Hill, neither foolhardy nor overcautious, gentlemen let us raise our glasses in appreciation. Finally we have a driver to do justice to the fabulous cars of Gerald Bell, they said his engine was heavy and unreliable, it's not what our American cousins say now. The other Reed driver, or drivers, whom I also pay, have contributed to the effort, I trust, and may raise their own standards as a consequence. I give you Ian Stanley.’ I slunk off to a corner, not that anyone was taking much notice. There was an old BRDC type there, thin, drawn face, with intense eyes, smoking like an active volcano and looking as if he was on the verge of some dramatic tirade. He eyed me dubiously ‘There you are young laddie,’ he said morosely. ‘You owe me a drink.’ So even the superannuated felt they could put one over on Jack O’Ferrall, right- ‘Should always be watching the sun, that's what I tell all the new fish.’ Oh hell. At least he was in a good mood. ‘Not a bad mademoiselle that. Kept my attention, not that I was worried. Up to the age of sixty I thought it was a bone.’ At least I got to hear his final war story, never before in print. Apparently Wilks and 287 had pulled some contemptible stunt which involved bombing his aerodrome with packets of cigarette cards with pictures of Scottish football players, so the Professor had cooked up a hummer of a Mickey Finn and slipped it into Wilks’s wine. Unfortunately Wilks had gone a bit funny and on his next escort forced the Nines to drop their cargo on their recording officer Wat Tyler, while he was sitting in the squadron mess. It had never reached the press, but the codger had to spend the rest of the war filling out movement papers, that's why afterwards the only flying job he could get was with the Special Air Police. He sighed then grinned. ‘Still have the old thirst for adventure though, even with one foot in the BRDC.’
I was a little woozy during practice, possibly a combination of Bernie's breath and a touch of whatever the Cooper driver had that made him spend the entire meeting with such a long face, he should have my worries. His was the only car behind me on the grid though, and that lasted as long as expected. However, with a few incidents I was up to fifth- until I had a full blackout at Stowe, lucky I had my foot on the brake. I came to over half-a-minute later and was able to finish the race, I even came sixth. Ian had stopped earlier so it was back to the old ways for Reed. Phil won, champagne for him and Crash'n'Burn, though they got a frown from the guest wallah, who reckoned it was too much like a Boche name for a team. He was mollified to hear that they didn't make themselves little silver cups after each victory. Tom came over with a Latin primer and a huge smile ‘Loot's seen your television efforts, he wants you to have this.’ It had a short note inscribed on the flap. Loot. Motto: “Double or Quits”.
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