Icarus Two: The Flying Pig

 This is based on the true story of the first flying pig.

An unnamed piglet stood at the front of his pen, squeezed up between his mother, his siblings and the fence.  Two men stood at the gate of the enclosure, talking and pointing at the pigs. Mother Pig fussed around and snorted at the two men; while she recognised one man as the farmer who fed her, she did not like them disturbing her children.  The man who was not the farmer was gesticulating wildly, pointing at the pigs and then up at the sky, while earnestly speaking to the farmer in a way that Mother Pig did not like.

“You really want to do this, Mr Moore-Brabazon?” The farmer and owner of the pigs asked doubtfully, with a glance at the litter of piglets.

“Yes, indeed I do! One small piglet, not too heavy.  I don’t want to upset the balance of the wings.  The aeroplane is a delicate machine, Mr Ward, a very delicate machine.” John Moore-Brabazon looked critically at the squealing piglets, who were very much all the same size and quite small at just six weeks old. “But just think, Mr Ward, just think! A flying pig! Everyone thinks it is impossible but just look at what we have achieved in just six years.  Six Years!”

Image generated by Copilot 23 Sep 2025

It was the Autumn of 1909, an exciting year for aviation.  John Moore-Brabazon and Mr Ward were outside the Rose and Crown pub in Leysdown on the Ilse of Sheppey in the Thames Estuary.  It was a nice flat area with not much around, ideal for a test flight.  All flights were test flights in 1909.

“Well, if you really insist, here you go.” Mr Ward leaned over and grabbed the nearest piglet, the until then unnamed pig who had been pushed in front of his sibling, closest to the fence and the hands of the farmer.

The unnamed piglet, now squealing in fear and being separated from its family, was carefully put in a wicker basket by Mr Ward. John quickly picked up the basket before the piglet could tip it over and escape.

“Thank you, Mr Ward.” John nodded to the farmer and then looked at the piglet. “I shall name you ‘Icarus the second’, after the fabled Greek Icarus, may you have more success than him.” Then he turned back to the farmer. “I will return him safe and sound after his little adventure.”

“I’ll come crank the car for you, Mr Moore-Brabazon.” Mr Ward did not comment on the safety of the prospective outing.  He thought all the pilots and engineers who worked at the airstrip were crazy.  If people were meant to fly, they would have wings, as would pigs.  However, they paid him good money, so who was he to argue with their madcap adventures.

“That would be most helpful, thank you.  I do want to keep an eye on this chap.  I don’t want Icarus Two making a break for freedom before the flight.  Conditions are just right today and I must take advantage.”

Icarus Two had never been out of his pen, so he had no idea what the world looked like beyond mud, pigs, wooden fences and some distant green grass.  He bounced gently in the basket as he was carried to a car, not quite stable enough to try to escape.  He had heard cars going past before but he had not seen one.  Feeling safe and secure enough in the gently rocking basket, which was not much bigger than him, Icarus Two stopped squealing and looked around at the bit of the world that could be seen from the basket.  He was just tall enough to see over the top.  There was lots of green grass and a few trees around the pub, not that he knew what a pub was.  Above him was lots of clear blue sky and a bright shining sun.

John carefully put the basket full of piglet on the floor in front of the passenger seat, making sure it was secure. For Icarus Two, the exciting new world disappeared and all he could see was a leather seat.  The sudden noise of the car engine very close by scared him and he squealed again.

John laughed, “This is all a bit strange for you, I suppose, young pig.  Well, it is going to get stranger. We are going on an adventure, Icarus Two. A very big adventure!” He reached down and gently petted the piglet’s head before putting the car into gear and driving away from the pub and farm. Icarus Two sat down in the basket with a thump, it was too unsteady to stand.  

The car bounced along the rough road for a few minutes before turning into the airfield.  This was the first airfield ever built anywhere in the world.  It consisted of a runway and some sheds.

“Did you get one?” A man with a camera walked towards the slowing car as he spoke.

After parking, John lifted the basket up to show his colleague, “I surely did, meet Icarus Two, destined to be the first flying pig.”

Icarus oinked a greeting, once again surprised by a world he had not seen very much of yet.  He looked around nervously.  In the middle of the space, a strange looking machine stood waiting. It was a small bi-winged aeroplane.  John walked toward it, carrying his basket, with the photographer following.

“Pleased to meet you, Icarus Two.” The photographer smiled at the pig and then turned to John. “Well, I must capture this moment.  I see a headline coming.  Pigs will fly!”

John carried the piglet over to the flying machine and carefully transferred him to another basket that was attached to one of the wings of the aeroplane.  “Right, Icarus Two, I need to strap you in, can’t have you getting out mid flight and falling on someone.”

The new basket had leather straps fitted in it, which John carefully arranged around Icarus.  Icarus was not sure about being constrained and objected loudly.  Laughing, John petted him again and made reassuring noises.  He attached a card to the basket and then moved to the middle of the aircraft to strapped himself in, just in front of the engine.  1909 aeroplanes did not have a cabin, or anything fancy like that, just a seat for the pilot.

“Smile for the camera!” Shouted the other man.  John and Icarus both looked around at just the right moment for the photographer to do his job and record this impossible moment for posterity.

The precious photograph taken, John sorted himself out and then the plane was launched down its track to take off.  In those days, planes ran along something that looked a bit like a single rail track to be launched air bound; there was no wide runway.

Icarus Two felt his stomach drop and squealed once more. Then, he felt the wind.  It was exhilarating.  He stopped squealing and turned his face into it, the pull almost blinding him and making his eyes water. John had goggles to protect his eyes.  Icarus Two then looked around over the edge of the basket and saw the land dropping away.  He was in the air a long way above the ground, soaring like a bird.  Pigeons and seagulls occasionally invaded the pig pen, so Icarus knew about birds.

Icarus could see grassy fields, trees and buildings beneath them.  The vast sky surrounded them, tempting exploration by intrepid adventurers like John Moore-Brabazon.  Then a strip of sand and pebbles appeared; the seashore and the vast expanse of the Thames Estuary.  Was that black blob on the water’s edge a seal?  Icarus Two was not familiar with seals or the sea, but John would have known. John might have been speaking but the wind and the noise of the engine blocked out any other sounds.

The plane flew out over the water, turning in a large circle around the island.  Across the wide stretch of water was another shoreline with a long pier and a town; Southampton.  Further away a dirty brown smog filled the air, drifting up from the East End of London.  Did Icarus Two hear John give a whoop as the plane tilted and turned? 

The winds smelled nice and fresh, but it was getting cold as it blew over Icarus Two.  John turned his face toward Icarus Two and saw John’s mouth move but the wind stole away the words, not that Icarus Two would have understood them, if he heard them.

Circling back towards their starting point, the beach and the Island fast approached.  There were fields and Icarus Two saw some cows, he was familiar with cows from the farm, but they looked like ants from up here, high up in the sky. 

Icarus Two felt his stomach drop again and he could see the ground approaching quite fast.  He gave a half-hearted squeal but, really, he was enjoying the experience too much now to protest.

The plane landed as smoothly as any plane could in 1909, which as not very smooth.  Several men were standing near where the plane came to a stop, cheering, laughing and waving arms in triumph. John disembarked and raised both thumbs as a sign of success. The men all came over, laughing, petted Icarus Two and thumped John on the shoulder.  Icarus Two oinked in response, not aware of the significance of this moment.  There was much chatter about flying pigs and impossible things.

The photographer held up his camera, “Another photo for luck, I think.”

“Yes, we want evidence that pigs might indeed fly.” said one of the men, the others laughed.

After the photo was taken, John detached the wicker basket containing the piglet from the wing and carried Icarus Two back towards the car. “I’d better get this young one back to Mr Ward, no doubt it is your dinner time.  I am feeling peckish myself after that flight.”

John Moore-Brabazon returned the very excited and soon to be famous pig to Mr Ward, who placed Icarus Two back in his pen.  With a great deal of squealing, oinking and grunting, Icarus Two excitedly told his bemused family all about his adventure.  His mother settled him down for dinner with his siblings.  With all the piglets running around with excitement, it is doubtful whether even Mr Ward could identify with any certainty which of the piglets was the soon to be famous Icarus Two.

If pig can indeed fly, what else might be possible?