The Mobile Years {1962 continued}
[we catch up with Tony just after his return from a junket around Southern Europe]

No peace for the wicked! Within the week I was off to Wildenrath in a Beverley (being overtaken by cars and trains en route I found somewhat bizarre), where I spent the next 2 weeks servicing Argosys from Benson, the return flight in a "Flying Tit" leaving me just enough time to get my dhobi done before repacking my bags to go off to NIcosia for a week's crew training with one of our brand spanking new Comet 4Cs on May 20th. I think we should have been there a few days longer, but we were despatched to Akrotiri to pick up a Squaddie who'd been seriously injured in an accident with live ammo. We were thus the 1st to ever set up a Comet 4 in its casevac role for real. The Squaddie in question made a full recovery, a fact I discovered a few years later when I encountered him in Cambridge as my new BSM Driving Instructor. It sure is a small world!I

Comet 4C XR395, fitted out in full VIP trim by De Havilland for HM QE2, was delivered to Lyneham on 1st June. On 5th June we departed with her to Heathrow, where we were to pick up Julian Amery, Secretary of State for Air, and his entourage, for a tour of the Far East. We called at El Adem, Khormaksar, Gan, Changi, Butterworth, Bangkok, Saigon (where we were farmed out to Embassy personnel families due to all hotels being full of American "Military Advisers"), Hong Kong and Labuan, with further legs to Australia and New Zealand scheduled. Unfortunately the John Profumo/Christine Keeler affair had caused a crisis in the Government and our VIP was recalled from Labuan so the trip was cut short by a week or so, seeing us back at Heathrow on the morning of 26th June. I never did get to Australia or New Zealand. Notwithstanding that disappointment it had been a most memorable and enjoyable trip for me. The 2 things that have really stuck in my mind down the years about this trip were when Mr Amery decided he wanted to see the ruins of the 12th Century Hindu temple at Angkor Wat in Cambodia and we dropped down to what seemed almost treetop level as we flew all round this impressive structure and then shortly after decided that he needed to take close look at Socotra, an island in the Indian Ocean some 500 miles east of Aden, where I think we were considering setting up a base after Aden's closure. The Skipper dropped down, lowered the flaps and started circling the cliffs from about 5000 ft. Suddenly the Comet dropped like a stone, yours truly hanging on to the seats I had been kneeling between to take a photograph. Having recovered us from this predicament, just, after slamming on full throttle and getting the flaps up, the Skipper, a very experienced Comet pilot, came back, white as a sheet, saying we'd dropped several hundred feet and it had been touch and go whether we were going to pull out before hitting the drink! It was only then that we all started to feel really scared. Amery's secretary's typewriter poked a hole in the roof trim before crashing to the floor and it took a couple of our guys several hours to untangle the keys enough to get it working again, after a fashion. Needless to say, a few beers were knocked back when we got to Neddy's Bar in Khormaksar!!

A couple of weeks later I went to Nicosia on another Comet 4C cont. training fortnight, which stands out in my memory for one reason. For some reason we were operating from a dispersal way out in the middle of the airfield. Come the final sortie, at 22.00, the crew presented us with a case of Tennents and said they'd not be back before midnight. At the expected time we spotted the familiar strobe light pattern of a Comet in the circuit so got ready to see our bird in. As she taxied round I switched on the wands and marshalled the aircraft towards me. It was pitch dark of course, only the aircraft landing lights, pointing straight at me, providing any illumination. Just as I was about to halt the Comet, I saw Sgt Jim McNeil frantically waving me out of the way by the port wingtip. I switched off the wands and made a speedy exit stage right and watched a bemused BEA Captain taxi past, XR395 then appearing in the circuit. The skipper managed to smooth things over with the Civilian Airport Authorities, but we were glad we were off the following morning!

A week later 6 of us were packed off to Gander on a Brit to handle the aircraft returning troops from Fredericton on that year's Exercise Pond Jump, returning 5 days later. For some reason the powers-that-be sent a full servicing crew to Fredericton to turn the aircraft round, but left just we 6 poor souls to deal with them in both directions. To cope with this situation we split into pairs to work 12 hours on, 12 hours off and 12 hours on standby, which worked out OK. Still, the Gander Hotel restaurant did serve extremely good food, so as we were not paying for it from our own pockets we were really able and willing to take full advantage of their extensive menu.

August 21st saw me off on my travels once more, this time to Greece, where a big NATO exercise was to be undertaken. We were based at Larissa, a pleasant little town in the South East of the country. We found the local Greeks to be very friendly, but only after they had established that we were British, not German. Apparently the area had been subject to some severe military action with the latter during World War 2. We were living under canvas again, which was no problem as the RAF site was extremely well equipped, a fact we were to be very grateful for later. It was at this time that I damaged my left knee whilst playing football on the dispersal with the Greek Air Force, discovering to my discomfort that crepe-soled boots offered little grip on concrete covered with F84F engine oil. I did eventually make a full recovery, but it was several years before I could kneel comfortably on my left knee. We returned to Lyneham while the exercise proceeded. Returning at the end of September for the recovery phase, we found that the area had been suffering a lot of very heavy rain and that the campsite had been utterly swamped and those staying on had been dispersed wherever they could be accommodated. Somehow it came as no great surprise that nobody had thought about our imminent return to oversee their return to Blighty. A scouting party was sent out and came back with the news that they'd found a possible billet for us. It was in one end of a grain store close to the original campsite, which we thought would have to suffice, so with bedding and Safari beds supplied, off we went. Being so far from civilisation and working the hours we had to operate meant that using the existing catering arrangements on the main camp would be of no use to us. Once again we scouted around the swamped campsite and rescued a couple of field kitchen burners and the necessary gas bottles and we soon figured out how to use them. Provisions came from the detachment catering staff and fresh fruit and vegetables from Larissa, with the odd few packs of K rations liberated from the incoming Brits. Ace DIY man Mick Ortega even managed to rig up a reasonable shower with hot water. That night we discovered that we were sharing our 5 star hotel with a tribe of 5-6" centipedes. We asked the Shell bowser driver if they were poisonous and he said "Only the ones with 40 legs"! That some of them were, was soon demonstrated when one of us was attacked that night and woke up with a very sore and swollen arm. He had to be sent home for treatment and I heard recently that he bears the scars of its feet to this day. Another foray to the campsite yielded some tables and with the aid of a couple of reels of lashing tape our beds were secured to the tops. After that all was well and we returned safely to Blighty a fortnight later.

After a short breather and a quick trip to Machrihanish it was time for another overseas trip. On November 13th it was off to Tengah with a "Hot Load", which we picked up from Leconfield, along with a young aircrew officer "Security Officer" who was to accompany us. That he took his duty seriously was obvious by the way he told us, before every daily leg of our journey, to tell absolutely nobody what we were carrying, as it was Top Secret. As it was just a collection of anonymous containers secured to the floor it was not difficult for us to comply. It did, however, strike me as somewhat absurd that when we arrived at Tengah in the middle of the night the aircraft was immediately unloaded under floodlights, within sight of the surrounding jungle area and roads, which would surely have drawn attention to the activities, especially as a Britannia is considerably bigger and a different colour than the resident fighters. My MSF colleague and I were then supposed to "slip" with the aircrew at Changi for 4 days, but once again "Air Amusements" had done their thing and no sooner had we deplaned at Changi a few hours later than we were herded aboard for the return trip, fortunately we had our luggage with us in the cabin or I dread to think where that would have ended up. I reckon we were suffering jet lag long before the term had even been invented.

5 days later I was off again, this time to Delhi, via Sharjah, with a Brit full of ammo. My confidence was slightly dented just before takeoff at Lyneham, when the AQM told us that we ground crew could not be shown on the manifest as the aircraft somewhat exceeded the 185000lbs Maximum All Up Weight. After a further 3 shuttles between Sharjah and Delhi I returned home.

The following day I was off again at short notice once again to Gan in a Brit. The last of our 5 shiny new Comet 4Cs,XR399, had undershot and we were to effect temporary repairs to enable it to return to Lyneham. That the aircraft survived this incident would no doubt surprise those of you that knew Gan. Somehow it bounced from the very narrow strip of coral beach onto the runway, clearing the 2 ft vertical concrete runway end. The flaps were knackered, with cartoon-like outlines of the approach lights embedded in the inner sets, the outer pair having badly kinked trailing edges. Apart from that and some minor damage to the fuselage skin, repaired by a party from the MU at Singapore, and damaged tyres, there was no further damage. We changed the badly damaged flaps, roughly straightened out the outer pair with the approval of the DH structures engineer who had come out with us and a week later, after new wheels had been fitted and a satisfactory air test had been carried out, we came home. Although we were supposed to fly back low and slow we actually came back at the normal 35-40000 ft, but with no passengers. I got home to be greeted by my father asking me how I'd enjoyed my trip to Gan. I was somewhat deflated at this. My sister, who was a Civil Servant at the Air Ministry working in the air bookings department had been asked to arrange a seat for a DH engineer to accompany some TCMSF personnel. She asked if he knew just who was involved because her elder brother was serving with that unit. Having established that it was me involved he asked if he should ring the section to wish me bon voyage. To her credit she said that would not be a good idea, after all an Air Commodore calling a Corporal would probably not be well received. I know my Flt Sgt would have had kittens! Incidentally, on its return to Lyneham the roughly straightened flaps were straightened fully and fishplated and it flew in that form for some time. I'm sure I saw it in the same state late the following year at Khormaksar. It was also rumoured at the time that it was not the Captain landing at Gan, but an onboard high-ranking officer, although naturally this was never confirmed. Today the aircraft survives in Dan Air colours at the Museum of Flight at East Fortune, Scotland, where I recently informed staff that they were very lucky to have her, and why. I wonder if that little gem will find its way into the info. plate alongside.

A 2-day Brit exercise to Toulouse the following day rounded off the year and I got ready for a spot of leave and Xmas cheer with my family and wondering what 1963 had in store for me.