THE professional pilots and engineers accepted into the Empire Test Pilots' School, at MoD Boscombe Down, for eleven gruelling months of mental and physical gymnastics - many of them performed at high altitude and lightning speed - are, without exception, at the very top of their game.

From the ranks of the world's high-fliers, ETPS takes only the cream and offers the ultimate in elite training, before graduating today's generation of test pilots.

The mission of ETPS for the last 64 years has been to train pilots and engineers, from the armed forces and, more recently, from commercial organisations as well, to be the best there is in the world of experimental and development test-flying.

ETPS had its genesis in 1943 during World War II and the advances then sought in aviation technology.

Dismayed at the number of flying accidents resulting from the relentless push to improve combat aircraft and the lack of standardisation in test procedures, Air Marshal Sir Ralph Sorley, himself a distinguished pilot, suggested the setting up of a test pilot school.

Its aim was to establish a cadre of pilots, who could rapidly and safely establish the effectiveness of an aircraft or its mission system.

By providing this information to the front- line pilots, they could then exploit the capabilities of their aircraft and equally the weaknesses of the opposition, and hence "go to war, win the war and come back alive" - an ethos as relevant today as it was back then.

A row of Nissan huts at Boscombe Down airfield became the headquarters of the new school.

It was the first of its kind in the world and, although others followed, it rapidly established itself as one of the best in a highly specialised field - an accolade it has retained.

Wing Commander S Wroath ran the first course, with Mr G Maclaren Humphreys as technical instructor.

Group Captain J McKenna followed Wroath in 1944, at which point the school was upgraded and named the Empire Test Pilots' School.

Illustrating the dangers inherent in test-flying, McKenna was killed while flight-testing a Mustang IV, although his memory was perpetuated in the annual award of the McKenna Trophy to the most outstanding student on each course, which is presented at a formal graduation dinner named in his honour.

The school itself has changed location more than once, moving to Cranfield and Farnborough, before returning to Boscombe in 1968.

ETPS graduates include astronauts and record-breakers like space-shuttle pilot Lloyd Hammond, World War II fighter pilot Neville Duke, who set the world speed record in a Hawker Hunter travelling at 728 mph in 1953, and Peter Twiss, who cracked 1,000mph in a Fairey Delta II in 1956.

Former graduates also formed the nucleus of three similar schools - two in the USA for its airforce and navy and a third in France - which work in close co-operation with ETPS.

These days, the school is run as a partnership between the MoD and QinetiQ, but is still headed by a serving officer, currently Commander Chris Maude, of the Royal Navy.

The students today are as likely to be flight engineers as pilots and are drawn from all over the world. Applicants who make it through the initial paper sift go through two rigorous interviews before being accepted onto the course.

"Attitude and experience, mental agility and staying power, is most important," says Cdr Maude.

Test pilots, he says, need recent operational experience, the ability to work as part of a team and an aptitude for analytical thinking.

The syllabus is a mix of the academic and the practical, offering hands-on experience of both fixed-wing and rotary-wing aircraft, including the Swedish SAAB Gripen, a fourth-generation fighter that has "other schools green with envy," according to Cdr Maude.

The course is intensive and demanding - some suggest it is the equivalent of cramming a two-year degree course into eleven months - and tests the resolve of even the most dedicated and proficient.

RAF Squadron Leader Merv Counter, who was on last year's course, admits: "There were times when I said, What am I doing here?' "It's a very heavy workload, but it was something I wanted to do."

Fellow student Helmut Maier, a commander in the German Navy, agrees: "There have been phases when I was maxed out', particularly at the beginning, when I had to handle the English language as well."

With students working long hours and flying demanding trips, flight safety is paramount.

"People think test-flying is a hazardous business, but I don't agree," says Cdr Maude.

"We approach it with our eyes open and don't take the aeroplane to the edge of the envelope on day one.

"We ask, Are you ever going to need to enter that area of the flight envelope with that particular weapon?' "And, if you aren't, don't go there.

"But, if you are, do the planning beforehand and get it right first time."

The course finishes with an intensive four-week practical trial.

"At the end of eleven months, we send pilots somewhere exotic and give them about six flights on an aircraft they haven't flown before to evaluate against a specific role," says Cdr Maude "They then have ten days to produce a report and make a formal presentation."

The report is no simple two-page affair, but an in-depth assessment, which students work long into the night to produce, to give its key readers exactly what they need to know to make informed decisions about its ability to conduct the role.

Cdr Maude says he has a great job.

"There are no pressed men here," he says.

"The students have worked extremely hard to be selected for fiercely contested places on the course and the staff get a buzz working with such motivated students."

British service personnel move onto one of the three test-flying squadrons at Boscombe, testing fast jets, helicopters or heavy transport aircraft.

Former test pilot Clive Rustin was posted to the Fast Jet Test Squadron at Boscombe after he graduated from ETPS in 1961.

"Test pilot school makes you research every aspect of flight safety before you fly," he says.

"You also need to have, as far as possible, the answer to What if?' "If you don't have the answer to the What ifs?', you shouldn't be flying."

But there will always be times when things go wrong.

Clive was forced to eject from a Jaguar that went into a tail-spin during one test flight.

"I ejected four seconds before it hit the ground, near Wimborne St Giles, and dug a 45ft hole in the ground.

"I was picked up by some farm workers who thought they'd caught a Russian spy, because I was talking gibberish and refused to let them see my papers."

He had no recollection of the crash and it was not until he read the newspaper reports that he realised the grim truth.

Despite the public perception of test pilots as a breed of aerial pioneers flying in the face of danger - think Chuck Yeager breaking the sound barrier or Neil Armstrong landing on the moon - test- flying is more about risk assessment and management than hazard.

The current commander of the Fast Jet Test Squadron at Boscombe, Wing Commander Tom Lyons, said: "Danger is a very emotive word - we talk in terms of risk.

"The higher the risk associated with a trial, the more focus there is on lowering the risk as far as practicable.

"You don't have time to be scared most of the time, because you are concentrating on the job."

Clearly much has happened since the Wright brothers, but the requirement for safe and efficient test-flying to deliver capability hasn't changed.

"Test-flying is no longer Biggles with a silk scarf," says Maude firmly, "It's much more a team function, using the skills of highly professional pilots and flight-test engineers.

  • Squadron Leader Neville Duke died last month, aged 85. He had continued to fly long after he retired and had even been flying on the day he died.