I was sorry to learn, via an e-mail from reader Jonathan P. in England, that the inventor behind the famous autogyro ‘Little Nellie‘ has died. The Telegraph reports:
Wing Commander Kenneth Wallis, who has died aged 97, was a wartime bomber pilot who flew 28 missions over Germany; but he became better known after the war as a key figure in the development of the autogyro, which, most famously, he flew as Sean Connery’s stunt double in the 1967 James Bond film You Only Live Twice.
One interviewer observed that if a screenwriter had invented Wallis, with his air of derring-do and rakish white handlebar moustache, they would have been told to come back with a more realistic character. Part Biggles, part Professor Branestawm, he became involved in all kinds of historic events.
Among other things, he flew B-36s laden with nuclear bombs over the North Pole; hunted Lord Lucan over the Sussex Downs; scanned the deep waters of Loch Ness for the “monster”; and advised the designers of Concorde on how to reduce engine noise.
Wallis inherited a love of tinkering and “the family vice” — a love of speed — from his father Horatio and uncle Percy who, in 1910, inspired by the Wright Brothers’ first flight in France, built the “Walbro monoplane” in a bid to scoop a £1,000 prize for the first all-British aeroplane. They missed out by a couple of months, but still flew (and duly pranged) their flying machine.
Wallis himself began building autogyros — a bit like tiny helicopters but with twin propellers, one above and one behind — in 1959, and by the end of his life he had some 18 of the machines, in varying states of flightworthiness. They occupied a workshop in the grounds of his home near Dereham, Norfolk, spilling out into the rest of his house and jostling for space with numerous other inventions — mini cameras, scale models of bomb-loading trolleys, model racing cars and bits and pieces salvaged from German wartime jet engines .
He never had formal training as an engineer, preferring to apply “the bloody obvious combined with common sense”. One of his inventions was a trap set up in his workshop to trick burglars, which had a tendency to go off every time he walked into it.
Wallis became a familiar figure in Norfolk, whizzing demonically across the sky at air shows and public occasions, and suffering his fair share of bumps and scrapes in the process — including an occasion when, aged 90, a freak gust brought him crashing to the ground in front of spectators. “It was embarrassing,” he admitted, “although I have to say it was a model crash landing.”
What he called his “harem” of autogyros was used to set 34 world records, of which he still held eight at his death. Among other achievements, he set a record in 1975 (now superseded) for the longest flight in an autogyro when he flew the entire length of the British Isles (“I’d have gone further, but we ran out of land”). He also flew an autogyro at 18,976ft without oxygen; became the oldest pilot to set a world record when, aged 81, he “accidentally” achieved the fastest climb to 3,000ft, in seven minutes 20 seconds; and he set a world speed record for an autogyro of 129.1mph at the age of 89.
To his great regret Wallis never found a commercial manufacturer for his autogyros, although he was delighted when the James Bond film producer Cubby Broccoli recognised its dramatic potential: “I was asked to demonstrate it to him at Pinewood Studios, taking off on the back lot along a short strip of concrete towards a pile of railway sleepers — the basis of a ‘volcano’. I disappeared in a cloud of dust and everyone waited for me to crash… but my autogyro climbed away safely. Broccoli immediately said, ‘Get it to Japan in six weeks.’”
Wallis and his autogyro, “Little Nellie”, were duly dispatched to the set of You Only Live Twice, where Wallis stood in for Sean Connery in a famous sequence in which “Bond”, in a rocket-firing autogyro, fights baddies in orthodox helicopters, zipping around an active volcano — while Connery “sat in a replica in Pinewood with a fan ruffling his shirt and pretended to be flying”.
“Broccoli told me to shave off my handlebar moustache so I could double for Sean Connery, which was a bit of a shock,” Wallis recalled. “The Japanese pilot of the camera helicopter had trained as a kamikaze, which caused me a little concern, but in fact he was a very nice chap… There was no mention of me in the credits, which was a mistake, obviously. But the tours in America and Australia were great fun.”
There’s more at the link.
Here’s the famous scene from ‘You Only Live Twice’ featuring Little Nellie.
And here’s a TV documentary about WCdr. Wallis, showing his autogyros and explaining his love for them.
He was one of flying’s great characters. I particularly enjoyed the tale of how he fooled Royal Air Force doctors about his poor eyesight, became a bomber pilot, and flew 28 combat missions before they discovered he couldn’t see well enough to meet RAF standards. There was an almighty kerfuffle about that, but he prevailed. (You can read all about it at the link, and more about his life at his Web site.)
May he rest in peace. We shall miss him – there are too few like him to spare even one of them.
Peter
What a loss to the aviation community.
I read some interviews with him, and he was quite an "interesting" character.
There are men, and there are MEN. A loss to us all.
Would'nt it be fitting if there was a 'missing man' formation flypast at his service, Autogyros, of course.
I believe the Pitcairn's built autogyros in the 1930's at what now is Willow Grove NAS.
I always wanted to fly one of those.
Gerry
Too bad they didn't 'take off' as a means of cheap, fast transit.
Of course, machine guns would help.
🙂
gfa
He will be missed.
I remember going to see an autogyro demo at a little airfield near my house when I was just a kid. I believe it was a Benson Gyrocopter. I still think it is one of the coolest personal aircraft and would love to fly one.
It saddens me that our generation ha so few of his character, and it seems the younger generations have even fewer.
His innovations, and his inquisitiveness made him an exemplar of the curiosity we all should strive to emulate.