It was getting dangerously close to Christmas 1959 and so, although I had enjoyed myself whilst detached to Gan, it was a huge sigh of relief that echoed around the inside of the aluminium alloy tube we knew as "Polynesian Princess" (aka Dakota Mk4 KN434) when her two P&W 1830s roared, her Hamilton Standard three-bladers bit the thin humid tropical air and, like the true thoroughbred she was, she quickly leapt into the air. With her tired old Dunlops partially tucked away (normal as there were no fairing doors to cover them) the sparklingly new white runway fell away and, after a suitably low run across the airfield to "set the compass", she headed northwards across the nearby equator at a majestic 170mph (147kts if you prefer it modern) towards Ceylon and the staging post at Katunayake. We were to be home (at Changi that was) for the "hols" and I could carry on getting to know the young WRAF corporal who I had met shortly after arriving in the Far East (soon to become a sergeant unless she got married or something …..She never made sergeant but has managed to outrank me for the last 45 years!!).

Safely on the deck at Katunayake we found, as usual for staging posts, a total reluctance to help with the turnaround. Who wanted anything to do with a tired and battered old Dakota when there is a Brit full of wives and kids or a shiny VIP Comet to look after (ogle at); those of you who have done time on VASFs know exactly what I mean. "No arguments mate, we'll provide a bowser, there's oil in the POL compound, you have your own servicing team so get on with it and don't leave any oil (or anything else remotely dirty) on our tarmac. Let us know when you want a start crew."
Not used to finding much wrong with the old girl I suffered a major shock during my checks when (very unusual for a Dak) a hydraulic fault became apparent. Come on chaps, be fair, it was a sort of hydraulic system, not the 3000psi thing we had trained for at the old Alma Mater but enough to raise and lower those previously mentioned Dunlops, set the flaps and cowl gills and operate brakes and windscreen wipers…..all done with only 600 to 800 psi. The system accumulator had lost all its air charge and no matter how I persevered with those grey bottle thingamajigs said air charge would not hold and all I was presented with was a loud "hiss" in the wrong direction when the hose was removed. A bit of poking and probing up the hole showed that the charging valve had nothing more than a Schrader valve in it which looked remarkably similar to that found in any old Dunlop (again) but n'avec pas the necessary seal. I have oft wondered how VASF at Katunayake faced the mystery of their landrover's "flat" but the valve it provided was probably still in the accumulator some years later when, in Philippine Airways livery, KN434 eventually crashed and met her maker. The valve's dust cap with its "valve removal projections" (in nowadays speak they would probably be known as VRPs) had been very useful and remained in my tool kit for the rest of my tour.
The delay was not long enough to prevent us setting off on the long (ish, for a Dak anyway) leg to the island of Car Nicobar where we stayed the night. I remember little of this stopover but my memory was jogged somewhat when viewing the recent TV coverage of the extensive damage done there by the tragic Asian tsunami. The last stage of our trip home engraved itself in my memory when we encountered, what was until years later when I had become aircrew, the worst storm I had ever flown through. What made it a storm to really remember was when a period of horrendous turbulence broke the Elsan (sorry Willie…we had no "Cludgie") free of its mounting at the rear of the cabin. With the aircraft temporarily in an extreme nose down attitude the Elsan, which was now upside down, ended up near the front of the cabin far to close to those of us doing our best to hold down the "sarnies and coffee" we had recently ingested. The Racasan did its best but it seemed much use had been made of the Elsan since I had last emptied it at Gan and the atmosphere was rank; my rank, however, held no sway with my team of two SACs who, understandably, rebelled when I "requested" their assistance…. "Eff-off Brian, you're airframes get on with it!". So with just "blue roll" (or its 1959 equivalent) I got to be the onboard aircraft cleaner; I did, however, draw the line at cleaning up the regurgitated sarnies that both of them had managed to produce whilst I was on my knees mopping up. Not a lot of compensation, but some.
Safely back at Changi all was quiet, the Flight had no tasking over the Christmas so we all took a long break, too much Tiger to recall much of it but we partied well, that I do remember. I mentioned in my first article that 1325 Flight consisted of just three Dakotas and sufficient ground crew to establish a gang to each aircraft…..aircraft away its gang stood down, aircraft on the pan (PSP in our case) its gang was at work. Volunteers from each gang were chosen to fly when required, such as our detachment to Gan, but such trips were not that frequent as most of the tasks were up country in Malaya or over to Borneo, basically just day trips. Imagine my delight when immediately after the break I was tasked with three others, "Horse" (the "Sumpie" who was with me at Gan and who I am still in touch with), Malcolm (a "Leckie" Cpl) and Colin (a "Fairy" Cpl) to go with KN434 to Delhi, stopping at all places en-route. The adverts those days said "Join up and see the World" and that was really happening for me…..pity I could be away for my 21st birthday but no way would that stop me going,

……………………. and the only way you can make me stop writing these boring tales is by writing something yourself, so come on…."let's be havin' you".