John Mitchell’s account of his VIP flying with the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill in 1943 continues in this seventh instalment.

A note about the flight safety and survival aspects of our passenger flying.

First, parachutes: at one time it was considered that the crew only of a transport aircraft should wear parachutes, or at least the harnesses, with separate stowages for parachutes. This policy was iniquitous for a crew would be quite unlikely to abandon an aircraft full of passengers to their fate. In most cases, even if they could successfully bale out, their own chances of survival, not least over the sea or desert, would be small. An emergency landing, on land or sea, was clearly the only feasible policy. Design circumstances also dictated a policy of the crew remaining with the aircraft, for nearly all the American aircraft entering the RAF transport force were in fact adaptations of civil aircraft in which there were no properly designed parachute exits anyway. The policy very quickly became 'no parachutes for crew or passengers'. A waste of payload anyway. But flotation waistcoats (Mae Wests) and dinghy accommodation for all. Emergency rations, and water were carried in the PM's aircraft, mainly under the floorboards.

As regards oxygen, the York was fitted with a standard RAF system, not very cunningly concealed in the furnishings, with enough oxygen for a twelve hour flight at all outlets. The York was not pressurised (neither was the Skymaster, which was to come a year later). We therefore tried to restrict our cruising altitude to 10,000 feet or below, depending on icing or other meterological circumstances, when topography allowed. There were occasions when we had to fly higher, either to clear mountain ranges or to avoid icing. Little did we know that deep in the Ministry of Aircraft Production, an organisation with precious little civil aviation experience, and certainly no experience of the whims and wishes of the PM, someone was conjuring up a small (or not so small) one man egg shaped inner pressure cabin for Mr Churchill. In this 'they thought he would lie down and be maintained at an equitable pressure height whenever we were obliged to fly high. It was first mooted in February 1943 after the Casablanca Conference, for which flight in the Liberator Commando, the PM had been to RAE Farnborough to be fitted with a private oxygen mask. Unfortunately for the boffins, by the time the Sarcophagus, as it was called, had reached prototype stage, our particular York had left the production line, and it would have been necessary to cut the aircraft in half to get it in! Where it would have been situated had not been thought through, for we found it would have occupied the whole of the Owner's cabin; if not there, then it would have halffilled the conference saloon.

It is difficult to imagine the Captain and or the Medical Adviser inviting the Prime Minister to scramble inside the egg well before the aircraft was obliged to climb above oxygen height with his cigar, brandy and his writing materials, not to mention Red Boxes etc. When he heard about it, he was appalled and expressed his views with such vehemence that the whole idea was (temporarily) dropped. Provided we climbed or descended gradually, the Prime Minister was never bothered by the few occasions when we had to go above oxygen height. Sawyers, the valet, confided in us that it was a problem of gastronomic wind with the PM, not his heart! However, this was not the end of the story. When the interior design of the Skymaster was being finalised in October 1944, the Sarcophagus was trotted out again fortunately to be killed stone dead by No 10. By the time the Skymaster was to enter the PM's service, on Christmas Day 1944, we had had eighteen months of operating experience with the York and the worst anyone suffered was a headache, and then not necessarily from the lack of oxygen! However, the project was not finally abandoned by the Air Ministry until May 1945.

The 'chair borne' safety experts did not give up. On the Skymaster, one parachute harness and pack was provided for the PM and stowed beneath his bed, accessible only by removing the mattress (for the designers had not given us sideways access to the space under it). The PM said he would only make a parachute descent in company with Sawyers to look after his comforts on the way down. Quite apart from the matter of launching the PM on his own into space through an outward-facing cabin door, which had never been tested for evacuation safety in the wind tunnel, one can imagine the problems of persuading the PM to leave his bed in an emergency on which he spent a lot of every journey either sleeping, reading or dictating. As there was not a great deal of standing space in his cabin in which to assist him into the parachute harness and to adjust the straps etc, the whole situation could only be described as a certain farce. Nevertheless, we were ordered to carry this unnecessary bulk and weight out of sight and pretty well out of mind. From a medical point of view in flight, Lord Moran, the PM's doctor, was always with us; he did little more than administer pills. On the occasions when the PM was seriously ill on the ground, uptodate medical help was secured either from the nearest BNM, or if need be, from the UK. There was one particular flight when, at the weather briefing, it seemed likely that we should have to exceed 10,000 feet in order to cross mountains in bad weather, the AOC in-C at the time (Tedder) ordered that his Command PMO be included in the crew: but that is another (libellous) story.

In the winter of 1943 Ascalon was to be joined by two more York aircraft: they were the first production models, number MW 100 and MW 10 1 mentioned earlier, both built to a VIP standard of a sort, but not to the same layout as the PM's. They were designed to carry only eight passengers, seated in the forward part and abeam the propellers where it was most noisy, but in very luxurious armchairs. To match they had eight bunks, two up and two down on either side of a gangway, dormitory fashion, aft. Toilets were amidships and a very limited galley was situated right aft. The Air Council had ordained that they were to be used for what CAS described as 'First Class passengers' and operated 'with due regard for the age and dignity of the passengers'. These two aircraft had been first allocated to 511 Squadron at Lyneham before it was finally decided in February 1944 to combine the three VIP aircraft at Northolt in what then became known as the 'York Flight'.

The CO then ordered me to live in at Northolt and to act as the Flight Commander, though of course the actual duties of the aircraft and their respective crews were out of my hands. I became a sort of domestic manager and a telephonic focal point. By this time the last Spitfire had been pushed out of the hangar and the Polish Fighter Wing deployed to forward airfields along the South Coast in preparation for the Invasion. I then had possession of all the hangar offices; this gave us better storage, a briefing room and a passenger reception room. Hitherto, there had been nowhere for 'meeters and greeters' to assemble, nor a telephone for VIP's use in any privacy. The Quebec Conference had taken place during August 1943 and the PM crossed the Atlantic to Halifax in the RMS Queen Mary and continued by train to Washington. He had returned from Halifax in HMS Renown. These journeys are written up in a most sensitive way by Gerald Pawle in his book 'The War and Colonel Warden' (this was the PM's wartime pseudonym). In Washington plans had been going forward for a Big Three meeting to settle the future of Allied policy in conducting the war. Eden had gone to Moscow mid October for a Foreign Secretary's Conference, with Cordell Hull, flying as far as Cairo in the PM's York, as 1 have already recorded. It then became known that Stalin would come no further than Teheran to meet the PM and the President, should a Big Three Conference be convened. Mr Churchill was anxious to meet first with the President for a preliminary talk, in the Middle East or even in Malta, before proceeding to Teheran. Eventually, Cairo was found acceptable. The President was to go further than not just 'gangingup' on Stalin at the forthcoming conference quite the reverse, as it turned out.

The three Yorks had been ordered to readiness and we had been warned to expect a departure in mid November. The PM himself left the UK on 12 November by sea in HMS Renown for Malta, passing through Gibraltar on the 15th where he picked up Harold Macmillan. The PM was said to have a heavy cold and kept very much to his cabin.

16th November 1943. After the various states of readiness and a delay of 48 hours due to weather forecasts of heavy icing en route, we left Northholt just after midnight (in fact, on the 17th) for Gibraltar, taking the Chief of the Air Staff (Sir Charles Portal), the CIGS (Sir Alan Brooke), General Bob Laycock of Combined Operations (who had taken over from Mountbatten) and Colonel A B Boyle RAMC. It was a straightforward flight of seven hours twenty minutes, though bumpy in parts and rather uncomfortable for the passengers. Whilst the PM had left the UK by the battleship but we had expected to take him on board at Gibraltar. In the event, he had already left the day before we had arrived and was on his way to Malta. Surely, we thought, we would take him on from Malta, for there had been talk that we would fly over to Naples with him to visit the troops on the Italian front: but everything was changed. The PM was not well and the President was making difficulties over having a preliminary meeting of the two of them alone. Meanwhile, the President had taken passage in the battleship 'IOWA' from the US to Oran, where his own aircraft, somewhat irreverently called 'The Sacred Cow' (a Skymaster C54D model) flew him direct to Cairo. There was by then no chance that he would see Churchill alone before the Teheran meetings, the situation being made worse by the American inclusion of the Chiang Kai Shek which wasted much time on inconsequential talk about Far East plans.

We were already decidedly envious of the 'Sacred Cow'. It had all sorts of refinements, an electric lift was builtin to the floor of the Owner's Stateroom so that the handicapped Roosevelt could be raised and lowered to ground level in his wheel chair. There was a large picture window on one side of the aircraft so that he could have comfortable view out from the position his wheel chair was clamped to. It had the main folding steps electrically operated from within the aircraft and they stowed neatly when retracted. Above all, the aircraft had a long operating range with its air cooled engines, a bonus, (however worthy our own Rolls Royce Merlins), in the hot ground temperatures encountered.

17th November 1943. We carried straight on to Malta with the same passengers after only one and a half hours at North Front, Gibraltar. The CIGS recalls in his own memoirs that he had a most satisfactory flight, for he had use of the PM's suite. It took us just over five hours, time for a leisurely lunch for the passengers (and for the crew at a second sitting, as one might say). We landed at 1515 local time, about the same time as 'Renown' sailed in with the PM. We then learned that he was generally in a bad moon, still not really well from his pre flight inoculations and a heavy cold. His irritation with the American preconference shenanigans did not help matters. Had he been well enough to visit Italy and the weather conditions been suitable, he wanted the York to standby for him in Malta. In the event neither conditions were met and he decided to carry on in HMS Renown to Alexandria. Meanwhile, York MW 100, flown by Squadron Leader Tony Watson and his ex Lyneham crew arrived in Malta from Northolt. This was to take CAS to Cairo via Tunis. So, leaving Air Marshal Sir Charles Portal to Tony, we carried on with CIGS and the Chief of Combined Operations (Major General Bob Laycock) as our only VIP passengers.

20th November 1943. We spent two rather dismal, cold and wet days actually on the airfield at Luqa. Accommodation was very difficult for visitors in transit through Malta, regardless of rank, so we slept on board. We took off at 09 10 hours local time for the six and a half hour flight to Cairo West and 1 note from my flight log that we made our track direct to Marble Arch in the Gulf of Sirte, thence due east to Cairo, so keeping a long way south of Luftwaffeoccupied Crete. Again, CIGS commented in his diary very favourably on his flight. We skirted the edge of the great Quattara Depression before dusk and made a comfortable arrival in the dark. Here we found domestic arrangements were not entirely to our liking. Because of the Allied Conference being held at the Mena House Hotel on the western edge of the green Nile Valley (and located between Cairo West Airport and the centre of the city itself), all the aircrew were to be restricted to the tented camp at the airfield. Conditions were very poor and our Wing Commander Captain who might have expected at least accommodation in a permanent Mess, was badly bitten by bed bugs in the issue blankets for our tents. The resident Squadron Messes in Cairo West were literally 'out of bounds' to transit air crew of whatever rank. They couldn't really be blamed for this for they were not built to accommodate a huge transient population, requiring meals at all times. We were not able to sleep on board the York on this occasion as it was located on a floodlit hard standing, under armed guard, with other VIP aircraft and almost inaccessible except for maintenance.

The next morning 'Dad' Collins presented himself to the Senior Medical Officer and exhibited his bites and asked the MO to record that he had not slept properly owing to local conditions. He then wisely took his medical certificate to the Station Commander and asked him to convey to the ADC (Tommy Thompson) that the crew were in no fit state to fly. I don't think the CO in fact did pass on this message, for he could hardly say that, as a result of his order, the PM's pilot was not available should the PM wish to fly that day. However, the effect of this demarche was fairly rapid and we were dispatched down town to a decent hotel with no further ado. The Station Commander was to find himself in another awkward spot, this time with the CAS, six days later.

27th November 1943. Back on duty for the PM, as it were, the airborne caravanserai was on the move, this time to Teheran. There had been considerable movement between Cairo and Teheran in the few preceding days Thus we girded up our loins for the next leg. The RAF were to use Mehrabad on the south east outskirts of the city where we had established a small staging post, whilst the Americans used the major base, with the Russians, on the West side of the city, a location which is now Teheran International Airport. An early start was ordained for all the VIPs. CAS, with CIGS and the Chief of Combined Operations, plus FM Dill and Admiral Cunningham transferred to York MW100 flown by Tony Watson. We took the PM, with Sarah Oliver in her WAAF uniform, with us for the first time as an additional ADC, Moran, two Thompsons and two secretaries, plus Sawyers the valet. Early morning fog at Cairo West delayed the CAS aircraft which was first off and there had been a sharp word for the Station Commander from the CAS that he had been got out of bed unnecessarily early when with early morning fog forecast it was clear that takeoffs would be delayed. CAS and CIGS in MW100 stopped off briefly en route at RAF Habbaniya, so we caught up with them on arrival in Teheran.

We ourselves were away at 0530 hours, the fog having lifted, a lovely Egypt dawn and soon after take off a clear view of the Nile Delta and the Canal which we crossed at Ismailia. Our track lay towards Baghdad, cruising at a comfortable height of 8,000 feet. The PM sat in the copilot's seat for a long spell, enjoying the view of EI Arish and the Gaza Strip, the Dead Sea and the oil pipeline across the desert which linked Haifa to Kirkuk. He enjoyed an excellent lunch: I still have a copy of the menu. Bill Fraser took time off to type it out on a blank menu card brought along specially for the purpose  on my typewriter (which I used to type out the BBC Overseas News headlines for the benefit of passengers). The PM started with turtle soup (no longer thick pea soup) and followed it with hotroast chicken and/or cold oxtongue and salad: saute potatoes and peas were on offer. Pears (tinned, no doubt) and jelly followed, then cheese and biscuits. This was somewhat in contrast to the President's fare which we learned later was sandwiches and milk.

We were to cross the three other great rivers of the Middle East; the Jordan, the Tigris and the Euphrates, then after overflying RAF Habbanyia, we started to climb slowly and had a wonderful clear flight at 12,000 feet over the Zagros Mountains to pass Kermanshah and Ramadan before letting down to land midafternoon at Meherabad  five and a half hours of enjoyable flying for all. The PM was met at the airport by Sir Reader Bullard, the British Ambassador, and the G0CinC of 'Paiforce'. He went off to the Embassy in the centre of the city whence we were to get our victualling for the return flight. Amongst the baggage we were carrying the Stalingrad Sword to be presented to Stalin in honour of that great victory. It had been designed and wrought by The Master Cutlers of Sheffield.

For once, everything was laid on and we were taken with the other RAF aircrew to the Darband Hotel situated on the northern outskirts of the city on high ground, in the cool. It was a former Palace of the Shah and accommodation was luxurious. Today it is within the urbanisation of the city limits. We stayed at Darband four nights. For the last night our crew was quartered at the British Military Hospital, which was also the Mess and Headquarters of Paiforce. It was a most modem building built pre war by a German contractor. The number of telephone lines installed in the various wards and rooms were said to be far in excess of what was needed for a hospital. Apparently, Hitler had ordered that the contractor was to plan the design and accommodation of this hospital so that it could become a military headquarters in Teheran upon the juncture of Rommel's desert army and the hoped for Axis seizure of the Caucasus and Azerbaijan prior to the invasion of India some plan!

22nd December 1943. Returning to Cairo we left Teheran at 0800 hours with the PM on very good form. The same route was followed (direct) and we climbed initially to 11,500 feet, but reduced to 10,000 feet as soon as we cleared Kermanshah. Again, an excellent lunch was put on by Jock Duncan, the chef quail, I remember, was the main course, served I think with an appropriate white wine all from the Embassy and a good time was had by all. Sir Archibald Clarke-Kerr, the British Ambassador in Moscow was an additional passenger. We circled Baghdad for the PM so that he could have a good view; he was riding, once again, up front in the co-pilot's seat.

Dressed in his siren suit, which he often wore, over a white shirt when relaxing in the aircraft, he was wearing his Air Commodore's great coat over the top. His carpet slippers on which were embroidered VC', completed the outfit. But as it was sunny and we were flying south west into the sun he needed his glasses and a hat. In stentorian terms, Sawyers the valet was instructed to produce both, the white Panama hat being specified. Unfortunately, Sawyer's guess as to 'baggage wanted on the voyage' had gone wrong the white Panama hat was riding with the rest of the parties' baggage in one of the support Dakotas. Poor Sawyers. He was called all the names under sun. But he did find it difficult to satisfy the PM's requirements for the many changes en route, especially when restricted to the 'wanted on voyage' baggage space in the York. If Sawyers had had his own way, we should have had the plane full of luggage to satisfy any whim or fancy of the Owner. The stock regalia's included the siren suit, with a greatcoat or either a Colonel of the 4th Hussars (his old regiment) or an Air Commodore's get up, for he was Honorary Air Commodore of No 615 Squadron a famous Hurricane Fighter Squadron. I don't remember him ever wearing his Warden's uniform of the Cinque Ports on board. I think this was reserved for Naval occasions. However, he did sometimes wear a combination of all these. This episode over, the flight continued serenely and we landed at Cairo West mid afternoon, but before the PM's party left we were alerted by the ADC for duty on the following day.