As the world governing body for air sports, the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale (FAI) oversees all manner of flying things flown primarily for the pure fun of it, in heated competition with others, or when challenging official, globally recognised aviation records. There are seventeen different classes of activity ranging from Free Balloons, through to Parachutes & Wind Tunnels, Gliders & Motor Gliders, just to name a few.1

However, the news that always comes as a pleasant surprise is FAI’s Class F; that is, Model Aircraft.2 Furthermore and most surprising of all, perhaps, is news of the FAI’s F4 subclass: Scale Models. As such, you can imagine my delight when the FAI feed started reporting out news of the recently concluded World Scale Championships hosted by the British Model Flying Association (BMFA)3 at their National Centre located at Buckminster in the United Kingdom. Yep, a competition for model aircraft that look and fly just like the real thing. Who knew? Evidently, I didn’t.

Before continuing, disabuse yourself of the notion these are anything like the little stick and tissue Guillow’s Mustang4 we all tried to build as kids. Rather, the scale models featured in the F4 World Championship are nothing short of airworthy museum pieces; the product of countless hours of meticulous research then channeled into precision replication on a smaller yet highly exacting scale. The finished models look more like something from the miniaturisation featured in Fantastic Voyage, rather than the product of human hands coupled with ingenuity and perseverance.

It staggers me—and it should stagger you, too—that these brave souls are then prepared to take their prized builds, the result of so many late nights and endless weekends in the shop, and commit aviation with them. More specifically, fly them at an altitude and speed sufficient to render them instantly into zwickel-sized shards should they re-encounter terrain in any unplanned manner.

Participants in all categories at the BMFA-hosted event had to first demonstrate, to a panel of well-qualified, independent judges, the fidelity of their model aircraft to the real, full-size equivalent. And, yes, contestants often need to be prepared to cite sources and bring documentation with them. Then, to record an event score, the survivors of this unmitigated hazing then have to fly the model in a manner reflecting the characteristics of the original aircraft. Either one of these requirements would seem to be mind-numbingly difficult. The combination of the two is simply too terrible to contemplate for mere mortals like me.

According to Graham Kennedy, BMFA’s Operational Support Officer, there were 109 aircraft representing twenty-three countries from around the globe, as well as judges from Brazil and Romania, making it the largest, most multinational such competition to date. This shattered the previous record of seventy-six aircraft. Three countries—Luxembourg, Iran, and Colombia—were in attendance for the first time. Clearly, scale aeromodelling is alive, well, and growing.

When examining a competition like this from afar using primarily photographic evidence, it’s quite challenging to get a sense of the competitive flow, along with its various narratives and subplots, competitor intrigue, and judging foibles. For all that, I will just have to attend a future F4 World Championship event, to which I look forward immensely, wherever it might be.

Rather, it was easier for me to find a single aircraft, along with the story behind it, to use as a portal into this fascinating world. For this role, I was tractor-beamed to the magnificent Silver Spitfire entered into the competition by father-and-son team Jörg and Konrad Lange of Germany. They were entered in the F4H category, further described as Stand-off Scale.5 Mercifully, the F4H models are adjudicated from the civilised distance of five metres, by judges disarmed of their digital calipers and finely graduated metal rulers, of course. While the aircraft has to look right from this distance, of course, competition scoring is weighted to the subsequent, radio-controlled flight of the aircraft. You know, the important part.

To my eyes and ears, this would seem to be an easier—but not much easier—entry point into the more technically demanding categories, should the competitor ever want to move on to these. Stand-off scale works for me, actually, as my preference has always been to see the aircraft in its natural habitat of the sky, flying as realistically as possible. I want to be swept away to another time and place by the experience. With all due respect, whether the panel instruments actually work in that distant cockpit seems like a relatively minor detail.

The Langes’ story also resonated with me given that Konrad, who piloted the Silver Spitfire for the entire competition, was just twelve years old. Not surprisingly, Konrad embraces the ambition of someday becoming a full-size aircraft pilot. He’s obviously a natural aviator, so it would seem future success in his chosen field, while not assured, has been given the best possible opportunity for success. Konrad flew the Spit to a very respectable tenth place in a field of fifty representing twenty different countries. He was also the winner of The Mick Reeves Trophy for outstanding junior aeromodeller in the event.

In a recent conversation with father Jörg, I learned more about their remarkable radio-controlled, F4H-destined Silver Spitfire project:

Konrad has loved aircraft for as long as he can remember. Like many young aviation enthusiasts, he has always been fascinated not only by flying itself, but also by the history behind historic aeroplanes and the people who flew them. Of all aircraft, the Supermarine Spitfire has always been his favourite. Its elegant lines, its engineering, and its history captured his imagination from an early age. Jörg then continued. When the Silver Spitfire completed its remarkable round-the-world flight, Konrad said to me one day, I’d like to build exactly that aeroplane. At the time, it was simply the dream of a young modeller. Neither of us imagined where that dream would eventually lead.

I’m delighted to add these comments are just a small part of a much longer story by Jörg told to the editorial staff here at BluFly, and will be delighted to publish later this month.

Incidentally, there’s another reason the Langes’ story was particularly compelling for me. I made a similar trip to a similar competition at a similar age to Konrad, also with my father. I even had some minor success in the event, as it turns out.6 If Konrad’s memories are anything like mine, they will still be as vivid in fifty years as they are now. Even setting aside all other benefits, the future fond recollections alone will make it all worth it, keeping in mind Konrad's current success is still just a stepping stone on a long journey toward an undoubtedly very bright future.

Regular readers will know that I love a great rabbit hole, and the cover image of the Langes’ Silver Spitfire sweeping by the camera at full song sent me rapidly down another one.

To be entirely candid, the story of the real Silver Spitfire came and went without me paying a whole lot of notice to it.7 I think I was put off, at the time, by the eschewing of the usual Sand and Spinach or even the rare but real PRU Blue or Montgomery Pink in favour of polished aluminum. Cool, looking, but not very authentic, no? Also, I can’t help but look at polished aluminum and not think about all the work it must take to keep it looking that way.

Plugging silver spitfire into any self-respecting search engine gets you, basically, one of two things: the gorgeous Spitfire above and, indeed, an actual bare aluminum Spitfire that saw action during the Second World War. It is described in Tom Neil’s 2013 memoir The Silver Spitfire: The Legendary WWII RAF Fighter Pilot in His Own Words.8 I’m not sure whether the modern Silver Spitfire is any sort of tribute to Neil and his plane, but it seems it certainly could be, and perhaps should be.

However, the real reason for the polished aluminium may be a bit more prosaic. From their website:

The Silver Spitfire is a Mk.IX Spitfire finished in polished aluminium with the guns removed. By de-militarising the aircraft in this manner, we aim to highlight the timeless beauty of its design. With a plane that is less provocative than one adorned with camouflage paint, we hope to broaden the appeal and reach of the project, and gain easier access to nations en route.9 In the sadly jittery world we live in today, unfortunately, the latter may have provided enough justification alone.

The nations en route, above, were twenty-three in number, spread around the globe, and would form the serpentine flight path the Silver Spitfire would take circumnavigating the world in August through November of 2019, in a series of seventy-five segments.10 The flight was memorialised in both a book11 and a documentary.12 This incredible adventure, as mentioned above, was also the inspiration for Konrad Lange’s eventual effort to replicate the iconic aircraft on a smaller scale. It also made me think it was a mistake, on my part, to not have followed the Silver Spitfire more closely, in real time, when it was actually happening.

I also think if R.J. Mitchell had been handed a slightly different brief, the shiny aluminum show pony on offer above may well have been the result. Instead of build the best single-engine engine combat aircraft for the fight to the death in which the world would soon be engaged, the design requirements had read design and build a smokin’ hot, single-engine, single-seat, sport and racing plane, the Silver Spitfire would have been what he would have delivered. To his utter delight and that of his well-healed customers, undoubtedly.

Alternatively, you and I can argue all day what R.J. Mitchell might have thought, had he lived to see the Silver Spitfire(s), and have him contemplate all that they would accomplish at whatever scale. While you might think differently, without a shadow of a doubt I believe he would have loved them wholeheartedly, both big and small. 🛩️

This article simply would not have been possible without the tireless and patient assistance of Andy Symons and Graham Kennedy of the BMFA. Also, Jörg Lange wrote an extended and quite extraordinary summary of Konrad’s and his participation in the event, which will soon be its own article here in BluFly. To all of these gentlemen, I wish to extend my sincere and heartfelt thanks. Should the opportunity to return the favour, at some point, I would be honoured and pleased if you asked.

So, what about you? Have you participated in an FAI competition, either crewed or uncrewed, and want to tell us all about it? I’d love to hear from you.13. Until then, thank you so much for reading and also for engaging with BluFly’s posts on social, where you can find us on Bluesky and LinkedIn.14

Until we meet again next month, as always, fair winds and blue skies.

Terence C. Gannon
Managing Editor

This is what we managed to put together for you for August, with most recent at the top:

Note that the embedded posts above are from the Bluesky 🛩️ Custom Feed15 which is the reference feed for BluFly.