The aircraft has a run-up of only 350 feet to the curved ‘ski-jump’, from which it will make its final leap skywards. The F-35B needs plenty of headwind to get airborne. ‘Steady on one-one-zero, sir,’ confirms the helmsman. ‘Steady on designated flying course, one-one-zero,’ says the officer of the watch. On the bridge, the navigators steer directly into the wind.
A few feet away, a snarling F-35B Lightning Stealth Fighter, sleek as a shark and every bit as lethal, prepares to launch into the steel-grey skies of the eastern Mediterranean. I crouch behind him, clutching my robust but battered high-def camera. The yellow-helmeted flight deck officer leans into a 40-knot wind and raises a small green flag in his right hand.
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