The last flight engineer remembers What it really felt like to fly the Concorde

Concorde took off for the last time over 20 years ago. But how did it feel to pilot the supersonic aircraft? The last flight engineer recalls legendary moments on board - and the final flight.

It is one of the most legendary airplanes ever and was the last passenger jet to fly at supersonic speed: between 1976 and 2003, Concorde served the important transatlantic routes between Paris/London and New York, covering this distance in 3 to 3.5 hours. In an interview with CNN, an ex-flight engineer describes what it felt like to be one of the three people in the cockpit of this aviation icon.

Warren Hazelby was not just any flight engineer, but the last person to accompany Concorde on its final flight in 2003. About a year earlier, the Brit had experienced his first time on board Concorde. In an interview with the US broadcaster, he vividly recalls his first supersonic flight from London to New York. He was "very nervous" before the flight. But also: "Breaking the sound barrier for the first time is an unforgettable experience."

The Concorde, which flew at a speed of over Mach 2, had remained technologically unchanged in all 20 aircraft built since the 1970s. Therefore, as a flight engineer and a kind of "human computer program", Hazelby had to ensure that the aircraft flew safely and efficiently. With regard to the public perception of his job, however, he also admits: "Everyone knows about the pilots. But no one has ever heard of a flight engineer."

Hardly any time to eat

Hazelby describes how complex the Concorde cockpit was: a deck from floor to ceiling, full of switches and displays that had to be constantly monitored and operated. In contrast to modern aircraft, which are increasingly automated, Concorde required constant intervention. "You had to check everything - the engines, the fuel, the hydraulics," he explains.

The Concorde, with its thin wings and high speeds, was anything but a normal aircraft. "There was never a phase on the Concorde when there was little to do," says Hazelby. "Something had to be monitored or adjusted every minute." His colleagues warned him that the work was so demanding that you barely got to eat. "If you managed to find five minutes to eat, you knew you had what it took."

Speaking of food: Each of the three people in charge in the cockpit had been given a different meal on each flight - in case of food poisoning. In an interview with CNN, Hazelby looks back on other remarkable anecdotes from his career, such as encounters with numerous celebrities on board, including Mick Jagger. On one flight to Barbados shortly before Christmas, all 54 passengers were famous faces, he recalls.

"It was the ultimate plane for an engineer"

Even as a child, Hazelby says, he watched airplanes in his home in southwest England, especially the Concorde. At the age of 16, he began his career as an apprentice with British Airways, and after two decades as a flight engineer, he reached the pinnacle of his career on board the Concorde. "It was the ultimate aircraft for an engineer," he emphasizes.

The satisfaction he felt when he successfully landed was unique: "When you do everything right and the Concorde flies well, you have a tremendous sense of accomplishment. At the end of the flight you are exhausted, but you have gone through all the different phases and brought the passengers safely to their destination in three and a quarter hours. It was a very special feeling when you arrived in New York."

"Take-off was the most critical phase"

Today, the role of the flight engineer has practically disappeared. The need for flight engineers fell back in the 1990s due to automation. Aircraft such as the Boeing 747-400 were designed in such a way that they no longer required engineers. "Our numbers dwindled," recalls Hazelby, who was chief engineer at British Airways at the time. Only Concorde, with its outdated technology and complexity, still needed an engineer on board.

Cooperation in the cockpit was crucial. "We were a very close-knit team," says Hazelby about the exchanges with the pilots - closer than in any other aircraft. Everyone in the cockpit depended on each other, especially during take-off and landing. "Take-off was the most critical phase," he recalls. The engine power had to be monitored precisely, as the Concorde's wings did not generate any lift at low speeds.

"Once you were at 60,000 feet, you could see the curvature of the earth," Hazelby recalls. He was also fascinated by the fact that the sun seemed to set and then rise again on the evening flights from London to New York because Concorde was flying so fast. "When we accelerated towards New York, we turned faster than the earth and the sun rose again."

Very emotional last flight

Although flight engineers were often overshadowed by the pilots, their skills and technical knowledge were indispensable. "If something went wrong, I was able to give the captain technical advice," says Hazelby. Even after his career, he remains in close contact with former colleagues. Many of them meet regularly at the Brooklands Aviation Museum, where one of the last Concorde aircraft is on display.

The last Concorde flight in November 2003, which flew over Filton, where the history of the supersonic jet began - and where Hazelby was also born, coincidentally - was particularly emotional for Hazelby. "It was a very emotional day," he says. "My uncle, who was suffering from cancer at the time, saw the last flight from his wheelchair."

"It was a special end to my career"

Today, Hazelby has mixed feelings about the automation that heralded the end of his career. It was clear that computers would eventually replace them, he says. "But I am proud to have been the last flight engineer at British Airways."

The Concorde, which was under Hazelby's supervision on its last flight, is now on display at the Aerospace Bristol Museum. "It was a special end to my career," he recalls. His name, along with the signatures of the last passengers and crew, is still immortalized on one of the aircraft's doors.