The Association has learned of the death of Cdr William Hunton Stewart OBE RN on 29 April 2013 in Nottingham.
After a number of sea/squadron jobs he became the junior observer officers appointer, he was the Captain of HMS Llandaff, the Commander of HMS Dolphin and his final job was as the CO of the Detention Quarters based at HMS Nelson. He was awarded the OBE when he retired.
Funeral Service
There will be a funeral service at Wilford Hill Crematorium in Nottingham at 2.20pm on 10th May 2013.
From Reference Books
894 NAS Sea Venom 1957
On 28 October 1958, flying Sea Vixen XJ479 for A&AEE Boscombe Down conducting tropical trials in Nigeria. During a low level flight at 100ft and 450kts, a vulture ingested into port engine leading to a fire in port trailing edge, 54m ENE of Kano. The aircraft became uncontrollable, the crew ejected but both experienced difficulties, the aircraft exploded on contact with the ground. Both aircrew were slightly injured.
829 NAS Sea Vixen 1959
764 NAS Hunter 1961
700Z NAS Buccaneer 1962
By John de Winton (12 August 2013)
I had hoped to see rather more in Willie Stewarts “obit” as it failed to capture the essence of one of the considerable “characters” of the FAA in the 50’s and 60’s. I should have contributed this weeks ago and apologise for being so late. Comments are based on memory alone and one or two observations from other vintage aviators. Willie joined the Navy as a boy seaman and became a PO TAS before being accepted for observer training in the early 50’s. I first met him at Yeovilton (and Merryfield), when he was in 894 Sea Venom squadron, teamed up I believe with Tony Pearson. Short, bald and bearded, he had a healthy disrespect of authority, particularly when wielded by those of his seniors who, in his opinion, did not merit it; and had achieved a considerable reputation for highly appropriate interruptions to boring after dinner speakers at mess dinners. When the squadron was visited by the “trappers”, Willie, who fancied himself as not unfamiliar with the controls of a Vampire, was offered to one particular trapper, for a check ride. This was completed without disaster or particularly adverse comment, although he was criticised for being too rough on the controls during the approach!.
The Kano, Nigeria, crash of the Sea Vixen during hot weather trials has been written up at some length in a FAA publication which I do not have. The aircraft, piloted by John Neilson, a C Squadron test pilot, hit a vulture at high speed and low level and he and Willie ejected. They were eventually discovered by tribesmen, who became very excited when the bald and bearded Willie took off his torn flying overalls to reveal his air ventilated suit with sockets and tubes hanging out. They thought that a god had come back to them and much entertainment was laid on by local chiefs before they were transported by camel back to civilisation of sorts for “drying out”. He was then in 892 Squadron, the first Sea Vixen squadron in ‘59/60.
I next met Willie when I joined the Buccaneer IFTU at Lossie in early ’62 and he was bold enough to come with me on my first flight in a Buccaneer. Maybe it was also because, being the first to join from the Venom and Vixen world, I did not regard the observer as talking ballast! He was an excellent and professional observer, but still something of a “party animal” and a leading light in out of hours activities, at one time squaring up to the large bearded actor James Robertson Justice in the bar at Lossie, (beards?). When the IFTU became 809 Squadron he stayed on as Senior Observer for a while and then went to Halfar, as Operations Officer. He was Ops of HMS Eagle in 66/67 before becoming the observer appointer, and subsequent promotion to Commander. This meant that he had to rein in his natural inclinations, as besides commanding HMS Llandaff, he became the Commander at HMS Dolphin and CO of The RN Detention Centre, where I met him again during CO’s desig courses.
On leaving the RN, Willie got a job in the Sultan of Oman’s Navy as a Commander and CO of SNV Al Munassir, a Tank Land Ship which he took out to Oman in ’79 after building in the UK. I got a job in the Oman Navy after leaving the RN, so saw a lot of Willie and his wife Claire over the next few years. He was due to build and commission a new and larger landing ship in ’85, but very sadly Claire became very ill and Willie had to leave Oman. Regret I saw very little of him after that but remember him as a stalwart character of positive views and robust commonsense.
Mike Brewell writes
‘May I add my two pence worth to John de Winton‘s obit on Willie Stewart on page 50 of the September 2013 Fly Navy News Sheet.
To make a small correction to John’s contribution, I believe Willie had been not aircrew but an airframe technician before the autumn of 1953, when we both found ourselves on No. 17 Observers’ course at Culdrose. This detail was important only in that he could offer 18-year-old sprogs like me valuable insights into Aircraft Recognition. But much more important was the robust no-nonsense attitude to life that a former boy seaman brought to us pimply National Service public schoolboys who constituted about half the course. The rest included one O.D., at least two other senior ratings, and one doctor who was to specialize in space medicine. He and an elderly sub-lieutenant of 24 lived in the Wardroom, while the rest of us were in what was officially dubbed the ‘half-deck’, but in practice known as the gunroom. In this circus, Willie was uncontestably the dominant clown.
Among a host of fond memories, I will quote only two, one sad, the other hilarious.
The first was when two National Service pilots in the cabin next to mine had died in a mid-air collision; on seeing my long face, Willie chirped,
“Don’t fret, just think that you won’t be seeing them in the Mess for the next few days!”
The second incident erupted when a Supply Officer was lecturing us on Service letter-writing, and had moved on to the formal letter officers were then –and still are? — required to write in acknowledging a new appointment. Our instructor said and wrote on the board,
“The salutation at the end should read….
I have the honour to be,
Sir,
your obedient servant.”
and continued,
“But mind you, BR**** says ‘Sir’ should be written with a big ‘S’, whereas a small ‘s’ is laid down in…”
At this Willie exploded. He may have even have used the ‘f’ word, but our instructor was wise enough to see he was speaking for the rest of us, and with good grace moved on to the 6 Most Important Service Forms.
He and Claire generously invited the whole mob of us to their engagement party, in the formal part of which Tug Wilson, another Petty Officer on the course , memorably declared both of them to be ‘good hands’. But my most vivid recollection is falling flat on my face as we arrived at the party. No, it was not drink, but rather that there had been were twice as many bums in the car as there were seats. and my knee had been supporting at least one of them. Autre temps, autre moeurs
The last time I saw Willie was in 1974, when I had had the ‘good luck’ (as I saw it ) to be doing my annual RNR fortnight in Hermes during the Turks v Greeks set-to in Cyprus. Willie had been flown out in his then MoD capacity, and on spotting me in the Wardroom greeted me as ‘Bloody Bedwell’, as if we’d last seen each other the previous week. That was to be our last meeting, but I had heard through the grapevine that he’d ended his service as CO DQ’s in Portsmouth. He must’ve have been an ideal choice, having I believe himself been sent there as a young NA following an altercation with his Officer of the Day. Before his final appointment I trust, I trust St. Peter had been duly warned…’