Issue 8 Newsletter

BERLIN AIRLIFT ARTICLE TAKEN FROM THE AVIATION NEWS MINI-MONOGRAM SERIES BY CHRIS ASHWORTH

No 1332 CU, which had moved to Dishforth in November 1945 was renamed No 241 OCU on 5 January 1948 to continue its training task using 18 Yorks and it was very fortunate that the unit had been able to keep No 47 Group squadrons well up to strength because a crisis was brewing - one which was to cause the virtual suspension of all route flying. The trouble started early in 1948 with the harassment of German passengers aboard trains transiting through the Russian sector, the pressure escalating sharply in March and culminating in June with the cutting of all surface links - rail, road and canal - between Berlin and the American, British and French sectors of Germany. On 24 June the Russians stopped the supply of electricity, coal, food and milk to the western sectors of the city, causing an immediate problem for the western allies. A limited airlift of supplies had been envisaged but no plans had been made for the supply of the whole population by air alone - suddenly the only possible peaceable option other than surrender.

The RAF involvement in the Berlin airlift, under the codename Operation Knicker, started on 28 June using two No 46 Group squadrons (16 aircraft). Two days later Knicker was replaced by Operation Carter Paterson and on 1 July the first 12 Yorks arrived at the main RAF base at Wunsdorf near Hannover. The despatch of more aircraft was delayed by the state of the airfield but after PSP tracking had been laid additional Yorks flew in on the 5th and operations commenced on the 10th when a No 59 Squadron crew took 7,695 lb of dehydrated potato into Berlin aboard MW173. To begin with Yorks operated at a maximum landing weight of 60,000 lb, some aircraft having all unnecessary equipment stripped out, which increased the payload of the LRF variant by 635 lb and 1,457 lb for the PCF. In order to standardise the loads of all Yorks while maintaining it as large as possible, special clearance was given on 14 July for the landing weight to be increased o 65,000 lb, which meant a maximum take-off weight of 67,000 lb. With a fuel load of 800 gallons the payload was 16,500 lb (7,484 kg), usually coal or flour, the combination of which coated the interior in a thick grey dust which proved almost impossible to remove under the conditions of the 'lift'. The turn-round time at Wunsdorf, originally planned for two hours had to be increased to two-and-a half hours, while the average time on the ground at Gatow was 45 minutes, though on occasions as little as 15 minutes.

As soon as the size of the task became apparent the operation plan was revised again and on 4 August the RAF commenced Operation Plainfare - the plan destined to remain in force for the rest of the airlift. During the first month the Yorks carried 637 tons into Gatow in 90 sorties, figures soon surpassed as the force built up to a maximum of 43 aircraft from Nos 38 and 47 Groups. The former supplied ten aircraft from No 241 OCU, the latter the remainder from Nos 40, 51, 59, 99, 206, 242 and 511 Squadrons. Only No 24 Squadron remained 'on the route' for special flights. The plan called for 30 Yorks to be operated daily flying 120 sorties, but unserviceabilities and poor weather which often restricted the landing rate at Gatow quickly reduced the realistic target to 100 sorties and this was rarely met in practice during the early months. The unserviceabilities were largely caused by the type of operation. The aircraft had been developed for long duration sorties on the 'route' but was now carrying out one hour sorties with frequent landings at a much higher weight than hitherto. This imposed a heavy strain on tyres, brakes and undercarriages and it was failure of these items which caused most of the accidents on the airlift and together with engine problems, expended much of the servicing effort. The fitting of hoppers so that coal could be air-dropped and thus reduce general wear and tear was considered but wisely rejected.

The standard route from Wunsdorf to Gatow consisted-of -a climb to 3,500 ft en route Walsrode, then at 160 knots fly to Egestorf, Restorf and Frohnau, where there was a holding beacon. Twenty miles short of the beacon clearance to descend to a nominated height was usually given and from Frohnau further descent was authorised en route the Grunewald or Huston beacon depending on the runway in use at Gatow. The final approach was always under GCA control. On the return flight the aircraft flew via Plutzke and Volkenrode. Crews and aircraft were pooled which caused some problems but solved more, personnel soon settling into a 24 day cycle which included four days leave in Britain. The Yorks from No 241 OCU were withdrawn at the end of September to allow the resumption of flying training, the number of aircraft being maintained by No 47 Group units at around 40. By October 1948 technical failures prior to take-off were accounting for the cancellation of approximately ten per cent of all sorties planned but the rotation of the Yorks back to the United Kingdom for both routine and special servicing every 150 flying hours helped to keep the problem within acceptable limits. The special servicing, which included a much-needed cleaning of the interiors, was carried out by Armstrong-Whitworth at Baginton, Fairey Aviation at Ringway and Air Service Training at Hamble. It usually took about six days but at the peak of the airlift, Yorks were being turned around in just three days during which the aircraft was stripped, cleaned, disinfected and serviced, including a change of engines if required. Operation Plainfare continued to operate at full stretch throughout the winter of 1948-49 during which new problems manifested themselves as the aircraft reacted to the gruelling task. One of the most obvious was the break-up of the cabin floor around the door. This was fixed by introducing a false floor to spread the load and the aircraft retained its reputation of being one of the easiest on the airlift to load and unload.

On 17 December Flight Lieutenant Beeston and crew aboard MW232 flew the 100,000th ton into Gatow and two months later another York took the airlift's millionth ton of supplies to Berlin. Despite bad weather which severely restricted operations in March it was becoming obvious to the Russians that the airlift could and would be maintained and on 12 May 1949 the blockade was lifted. Eight days later, however, the East German railways went on strike and the airlift had to continue, albeit at a steadily reducing scale for another three-and-a-half months. In June, No 46 Group was renamed No 47 Group and took over the task and assets of both organisations, which still included 39 Yorks at the end of the month. During July the personnel of Nos 40, 51 and 99 Squadrons were withdrawn with some of the aircraft, the rest following from mid-August with 12 Yorks (nominally of No 206 Squadron) leaving on the 15th, ten from No 59 Squadron on the 23rd and the remaining ten of No 511 Squadron on the 29th, the honour of making the last of over 29,000 York flights into Berlin having been given to Flight Lieutenant L.A. Mather three days earlier. It was his 404th 'Plainfare' sortie - a record number! The Yorks had carried some 233,145 tons of supplies into the city, more than half the RAF contribution to the airlift and had maintained an average utilisation of 1.69 sorties per day, against an average for all aircraft types of 1.37.

On return to Lyneham Nos 99, 242 and 511 Squadrons immediately commenced conversion to Handley Page Hastings, while No 206 Squadron was disbanded. Nos 40, 51 and 59 Squadrons, the headquarters of which had all been transferred from Abingdon to Bassingbourn on 25 June 1949, regrouped and with eight aircraft each restarted route flying with Yorks, mainly transporting personnel and supplies to Malaya where a military build-up was under way following an outbreak of terrorist activity in the country.

As more Hastings became available the Yorks were withdrawn. No 40 Squadron disbanded in March 1950 and Nos 51 and 59 at the end of the following October. The remaining York squadron, No 24 moved to Lyneham in November leaving its Valettas at Oakington for No 30 Squadron and receiving its first Hastings. The Yorks, however, continued in service with the squadron for special flights, officially until December 1951, though it would appear that two remained until March 1952 to cover the VIP commitment while the Hastings C.4s were settling in.

With the rundown of the squadrons No 241 OCU ceased York training during 1950, although refurbishing of aircraft continued. Some of the Yorks serviced by Fairey Aviation at Ringway during 1951-52 are said to have been fitted with flight refuelling equipment but it seems more likely that they were equipped as bulk fuel carriers, presumably as equipment for the proposed Auxiliary squadron at Bovingdon. This failed to materialise but three of four Yorks were used by a reformed No 1310 Flight which operated from Mellala, Australia, in support of nuclear weapons trials from May 1953 until the end of the year, though nominally based at Upavon. Another, fitted with parachute pylons was operated from Abingdon and the Ministry of Supply also used the York for transport duties at the A&AEE Boscombe Down, mainly to support overseas trials work and they were not finally replaced by Hastings until 1955.

However, it was the Far East Air Force that was able to claim longest usage of the aircraft for Ascalon, transferred to the FECS at Singapore in 1946, was not withdrawn until 1954 and its replacement, MW295 Ascalon II, flew a further 30,000 miles on VIP work before finally retiring in March 1957 supplanted by a Hastings CA.

No 24 Squadron have a long association with the Falkland Islands going back to the end of the conflict in 1982. Indeed, amongst the first Hercules crews to be found in the 1312 Flight Hall of Fame, are pictures of a youthful Fg Off Oborn and a downy Sgt Cole. Initially, crew's from the Squadron were deployed at RAF Stanley living in tents and later a ship [since condemned as unfit to house convicted criminals!], but in 1986 the detachment moved to purpose built facilities at the newly completed airfield, RAF Mount Pleasant.

Before proceeding to the Falkland Islands, crews were trained in the new skills they would need in theatre, Air to Air Refuelling [both as Tanker and Receiver], low level flying and Fighter Affiliation. Once qualified, they would become one of the three crews on 1312 Fit and serve a four-month detachment.

A typical week at Mount Pleasant would see the crews flying a number of different tasks; Maritime Radar Reconnaissance involved an aircraft using its radar to search for Warships and Fishing vessels within the Falkland's exclusion zone. Once found, the Hercules would then descend to low level [250 ft] to take photographs and get a visual identification. Whilst this was happening, the second of the Flights two aircraft would be sitting on the pan at Quick Reaction Alert. A crew was always available, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, to scramble a Tanker in support of the Station's resident Fighters. This crew would also fly on a daily basis to give the jets AAR practice and experience in attacking large, slow, but agile targets. The small turning radius of the Hercules at low speed made it a difficult target in the hands of a good crew and normally at least two Fighters would be needed to shoot it down. Fighter Affil, the sport of kings!

One of the most demanding jobs in the South Atlantic was the routine re-supply of the garrison in South Georgia. This involved a 3 1/2 hr transit east of the Falklands [approximately 1400 miles] before descending into low level at Cumberland Bay to Airdrop harness packs to the Troops Gemini dinghies at the Gritviken IDL. This kept them resupplied with essential spares, fresh food and morale boosting mail in an otherwise desolate and very remote location. The DZ is surrounded on three sides by high mountains and the turbulence this sometimes produces, coupled with the low speed of the aircraft for dropping, has combined to produce some quite "interesting"' moments over the past years. In addition to this, every 3 months, the aircraft would Air to Air refuel after the airdrop and continue South East to do a visual reconnaissance of the South Sandwich Islands. These long sorties would often take in excess of 12 hours, but were vital in showing the flag and making sure this flashpoint for the 1982 conflict remained clear of Argentineans.

Occasionally, the Flight would be called on, to take compassionate or medical emergency cases to the South American mainland in order to expedite their evacuation home to the UK, via the scheduled airline services. These flights were always highly sought after, for as well as the obvious satisfaction in giving a helping hand, they generally involved a night stop in either Rio de Janeiro, Montevideo or Santiago. It was a very welcome respite from the barren Falklands Islands to see such things as trees, cars [non 4 wheel drive] and of course 5 star hotels.

The final role for the aircrews was providing long range Search and Rescue cover for ships and aircraft in the South Atlantic. To do this all the Hercules in theatre were equipped with two sets of life rafts which could be, and indeed have been, dropped to survivors on a number of occasions. The aircraft is also routinely used to provide "Top Cover" for the Sea King helicopters as they carry out their search and rescue tasks, being able to locate vessels in distress and then direct the helicopter to the scene. Superior altitude and an extensive communications suite then enabled the Hercules to act as the vital communications relay between the Sea King and the Stanley Rescue Co-ordination Centre.

Alas, age and fatigue finally overcame the Hercules tankers and the two aircraft in the Falklands were replaced by a single "normal" Hercules and a VC] 0 aircraft from RAF Brize Norton in March 1996. The manning on 1312 Fit was changed to reflect this and No 24 Squadron, in rotation with No 30 Squadron, now provided one crew in turn every six weeks. With the exception of the tanking, the flying remained the same and a Squadron crew could now expect to do two detachments to the South Atlantic during their time at Lyneham. Not everyone wanted to go, but there never was a problem finding volunteers as the flying and social life were still consistently good fun. Many a beer was drunk in the Queen Vic pub, that infamous home built Flight club, worked off by some at Huffers and Puffers circuit training, but perhaps more importantly, crews who volunteered to go "down South" had the incentive of keeping their low flying and AAR skills current on return to the UK.

The end came for No 24 Squadron in April 1999 when the final crew consisting of Flt Lt's Sell, Colman, Beaumont, FS Pickles and Sgt Morgan returned home. It had been decided that all low level and air to air receiver training should cease on the Northside of the airfield and that in future the Falklands task would be taken over by 47 and 1XX Squadrons. We hope they enjoy it as much as we did!

With thanks to "24 Squadron into the Millennium" magazine in which this article was originally published.

I was most interested to find your excellent Web-Site, and thought that perhaps you may be interested in some of my reminiscences/ramblings regarding the period when I was involved with 24 Sqn. (-Please excuse any lapses of memory in the details!)

My National Service began in Oct. 1949, and by mid-1950 I had completed the usual 'square-bashing' at Padgate, as well as a six-month 'Wireless' course at Yatesbury (having turned down the offer of aircrew training if I would 'sign-on') -This led to my being posted to Topcliffe as an Air Wireless Mechanic, and working initially servicing Hastings. ( of 297 Sqn. ....soon to be deceased).

The introduction of the dreaded shift-working servicing-pool system, however, had the happy effect of allowing me to also work on other Squadrons' aircraft, i.e. No’s 47, 53 and 24. (Also to have to hold down the Tiger Moth when the hangar doors were opened during a gale!) So as well as carrying out D.I's, which mainly consisted of changing the intercom battery and testing the VHF, I was roped in to help polish the V.I.P. York! I can remember sitting on the wing with a collection of rags and a mammoth tin of metal-polish, but I don't think that the metal gauge was reduced very much by my efforts.

We had a Model Aircraft Club hut, which came in very handy as a hideout/refuge, and where a couple of us built a seven-foot span Radio-controlled Sailplane, intending to fly it off Sutton Bank, but it came to a sticky end after a terminal dive onto the airfield and was never rebuilt. A good friend and fellow aeromodeller was one of the 24 Sqn. navigators, a New Zealander, but his name escapes me. Maybe it is in your records.

Detachment to Abingdon with one of the 297 Sqn. Hastings for a few weeks was a welcome change, and I was able to go on a night flight over Salisbury plain to drop a bunch of Army Para's. The Sergeant went out first, intending to signal the drift from the ground, but the weather closed in and we never saw him again! Equally memorable was sitting in the aircraft back on the ground in order to listen to Mr. Shinwell (Min. of Defence) on the Radio making "an important announcement about National Service". - We had to do an extra six months! That must have been about April 1951. Also at Abingdon was a Demo. of vehicle drops from the Fairchild Packet, the most amusing being a jeep on a pallet whose 'Chute failed. The resulting impact caused all four wheels to come off and roll away in opposite directions. I flew home to Topcliffe in the C.O.'s Armstrong -Siddeley. He had insisted in proving that it could be carried in a Hastings, rather than have to drive it by road, but we had a hard job to get it in. A couple of us sat in it for the journey and enjoyed eating the sweets out of the glove-compartment, but the springing made it rather bouncy.

In about July 1951, with only about 2 months of my service still to go, the balloon went up in Iran when Dr. Mossadeq decided to take over the Oil-fields etc. Aircraft and personnel were ordered to Fayid, and all involved were rapidly given the necessary "Jabs" and flown out P.D.Q. We were billeted at Clyffe Pypard, before leaving Lyneham and stopped over at Luqua , Malta, for one night before Fayid next day. A vivid memory is of an intense draught of hot air that swept in when the large door in the Hastings Fuselage was opened!. We were still dressed in UK garb, and were very glad to be given K.D. shorts etc. The Egyptian Authorities refused to accept our inoculation certificates, and we had to have the whole lot over again ! We were billeted in tents, pitched between the barrack-huts, ( see photo, I'm in the middle ), and only worked until mid-day due to the heat, after which most of us went down to the Bitter-lake. I rapidly learnt to swim as the water was so salty and dense. There was a marked out swimming area using sunken barges, to keep the sharks out, we were told. We did see what looked like miniature swordfish, though.

As I recall, there were about 200 aircraft, mainly transports, parked outside as well as inside the normal perimeter, each with a couple of soldiers on guard all night. There were rumours of much pilfering, even to the extent of towing away a complete aircraft. Part of the task was to fly ammunition on to Shaibah, which was reputed to be even hotter than Fayid. We used to wander around the 'shops' at the village, where we had to learn to haggle, and I eventually came home with a watch, a suitcase, and a leather wallet. It took me all of three weeks to persuade the C.O. that I shouldn't be there due my impending demob. and attendance at Bristol University to study Aeronautical Engineering.

The flight home to Lyneham passed over the wreckage of a preceding Hastings, which we could see below us, and included a stop at "C.B" (Castel Benito) airport, previously one of Mussolini's air bases near Tripoli. I had an enjoyable swim in the large swimming-pool, which was otherwise deserted, and was introduced at the NAAFI to a 'John Collins' by one of the Aircrew. ( My knowledge of drinks being very rudimentary, I had previously been persuaded to ask for a glass of 'Maiden's-Water', being told that it was the local name for lemonade. )

After Demob. I kept up my relationship with Handley-Page, working in the Wind Tunnel at Radlet before moving to Warton, and am still a member of the H.P. Association. If I can find any more Photo's I'll send them on later.

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

A ROYAL FLIGHT Two days after our return to Northolt (7th June), the Liberator Commando AL 504) was flown in from Dorval, Montreal, by Wing Commander Willie Biddell, and parked alongside the York. This was the aircraft the PM had first used on his visit to Moscow in August 1942 and later to the Casablanca Conference in January 1943. Then, who should turn up but Group Captain 'Mouse' Fielden (Air Equerry to HM the King and now a Station Commander in Bomber Command). With him came Group Captain J Jeffs, evidently an old friend and, as we knew, Senior Air Traffic Control Officer at HQ Transport Command. We drew our own conclusions, for there was talk of a comparison being made between the aircraft for Royal use. In fact, Commando was to leave Northolt ahead of us (8th June) with the Secretary of State for Air, Sir Archibald Sinclair, plus Group Captain Sir Louis Greig (his ADC) and Mr R H Melville (PS), as the vorlager. It was expected they would be in the greeting party at Gibraltar.

The King's Flight had existed as an RAF Unit at Hendon, under Wing Commander 'Mouse' Fielden from 1936 until the War broke out. HRH The Prince of Wales, later King Edward VIII, was a keen flyer and from 1929 had owned various civil-registered aircraft which were garaged first at RAF Northholt and later, when 24 Squadron moved its main base, at Hendon. They were housed in the Home Communications Flight hangar, later called the King's Hangar. Adjacent, an annex to the Officers' Mess had been built as a Royal Suite for the privacy of passengers using the Flight. In 1936 the aircraft became the financial responsibility of the Air Ministry supported by 24 Squadron. The first RAF purchase for the Flight was the Airspeed Envoy, a light twin-engined executive aircraft chosen by Fielden, the forerunner of the renowned Oxford trainer and, in 1939, followed the D.H. Flamingo, a mini-airliner, named the Hertfordshire by the RAF, after the location of its factory. Both the Envoy and the Flamingo carried civil registration up to the outbreak of the war, to facilitate flying abroad by members of the Royal Family.

A Lockheed Hudson was added to the Flight in August 1939 and when the war started, all these aircraft assigned to 24 Squadron, Hendon, for communication duties, along with many other civil aircraft, but the Hudson (N7263) was to remain at RAF Benson, the balance of its crew (which included a rear-gunner for its hydraulic rear turret) under Wing Commander Fielden, was to be found from the squadron, that is co-pilot, navigator and wireless operator. It retained the long-range fuel tanks in its fuselage, which had been fitted for its delivery across the Atlantic, and rumour had it that it was to be kept at a certain readiness in case of the German invasion to ferry some of the Royal Family to Canada, perhaps the two Princesses. The Flight was disbanded in 1941 when plans were being made to extend RAF support for SOE operations in Occupied Europe beyond the range of the Lysanders working from South Coast airfields, this Hudson was the first multi-engined aircraft to be used in this role, Wing Commander Fielden then commanding 161 Squadron at Tempsford. Bomber Harris had objected to any diversion of aircraft to SOE, but for some grudgingly spared Whitleys, but he had no jurisdiction over the Royal Hudson.

So on 7th June that there was no King's Flight in existence when HM wishes to visit North Africa and review his victorious Eighth Army in Tripoli. As Mr Churchill later put it: 1 have lent His Majesty my aircraft", forgetting perhaps that the whole of the Royal Air Force was nominally His Majesty's! The flight that was about to take place was, according to the AOC in C of Transport Command (Ginger Bowhill) was the first time in history that a reigning British Monarch had left the United Kingdom by air, either in peace or war. Hitherto, the honour of carrying the King overseas had been given to the Royal Navy. He said to us later at our briefing: "It is up to you to show the sailors we can take on the task with equal efficiency".

llth June 1943. Our strong suspicions as to the identity of our VVIP were confirmed by the arrival early that evening of Palace vans with mountains of luggage labelled 'General Lion' and two Guardsmen batmen, Sergeants Jerram and Evitts, respectively HM's Chief Valet and Deputy Sgt Footman. After what was to become our usual routine of weather and route briefing, plus communications instructions, we planned our route to Gibraltar well out into the Atlantic. With a good weather forecast, the plan was to land there for refuelling and breakfast on the ground, before proceeding to Algiers where HM would be met by the Supreme Allied Commander, General Eisenhower. We took off from Northolt at 2300 hours into the new moon with His Majesty, accompanied by General The Hon Sir Harold Alexander, Lt Col The Hon Piers Legh and Sir Alexander Hardinge, Private Secretary. In addition we had with us Group Captain Fielden, the Air Equerry plus Mr Cameron of Scotland Yard. Wing Commander Slee (from A & AEE Boscombe Down) again joined the crew: he later took command of 511 Squadron - Yorks - in July 1943.

As forecasted the weather was fine and smooth. HM came forward to the flight deck once we had settled down at cruising height and took a great interest in my astro-navigation methods. Clearly, he remembered his star identification from his days in the Royal Navy. HM Ships had been positioned in the vicinity of our two main turning points on the route to act as rescue vessels in the event of a forced landing in the ocean. Nothing would be seen of these blacked-out warships from 10,000 feet, even in clear conditions. For security reasons our communications plan was similar to other RAF aircraft in transit from the UK to Gibraltar that night; only our route was different, to minimise the risk of hostile interception. In dire emergency we were instructed to make for neutral Portugal.

About twenty minutes flying time from Gibraltar we received a general diversion message, sent to all RAF aircraft in transit that because of fog at Gibraltar we were to land at the USAF base at Port Lyautey (near Casablanca). This was followed very shortly by an order countermanding it. Foggy conditions evidently existed there, too. The new diversion for all aircraft was to be Ras el Ma (near Fez) some way inland and free from coastal fog. We queried these instructions using our allocated call-sign for the night, for we were only permitted to use the Royal Flight call-sign in emergency. Since landing in the fog at Gibraltar would be impossible, we had no option but to obey the instructions, along with all the other aircraft flying that night between the UK and Gibraltar.

Ras el Ma was a small RAF Staging Post, only recently taken over from the Americans, with none of the accommodation and handling facilities available at a base such as North Front (Gibraltar). Neither did it have the communications capacity in the local control to handle the sheer number of aircraft in the landing circuit at the same time. We had strict instructions not to disclose by RIT the identity of our VVIP. Evidently the secure radio link between Gibraltar and Ras el Ma was so overloaded with cypher traffic that no warning of His Majesty's imminent arrival had reached the CO. Furthermore, 'Commando' which should have reached Gib or Port Lyautey ahead of us was not on hand to alert the local RAF. After circling several times with many other smaller aircraft, and notwithstanding our ample reserve of fuel, we were obliged to request priority landing, for HM could not be kept waiting while the RAF sorted itself out. The Air Traffic Control Officer had never seen a York before (neither had many others) and he drove up to 'Ascalon' now parked on the temporary hard-standing with the intention of speaking his mind to the Captain for barging in. He was somewhat taken aback on seeing our passenger and did his best to alert his commanding officer.

With that touch of humour that the RAF seems often to embellish a high level 'black', the Staging Post Commander had had a particularly heavy party in the Mess the night before. He did not react very fast to his batman's cup of tea and urgent message that the Royal aircraft had landed, and HM was actually standing on his airfield. Indeed it was said that he thought the whole thing was a legpull. There is a variety of versions of what panic went on, but the Staging Post Commander eventually appeared, having cut himself shaving in his haste, to find HM and his aircraft parked on the crowded hard-standing amid a variety of aircraft coming and going. As there were no arrangements for HM's reception, he took breakfast on board the aircraft, after stretching his legs outside. We left for Maison Blanche (Algiers) after a stop-over of three quarters of an hour, having been refuelled. We arrived after some three more hours of flying, circling Cape Tafaroui en route, to rendezvous with our escort of six USAF Aerocobra (P 39) fighters. This time HM was properly met by the Supreme Allied Commander, General Eisenhower, Admiral Sir Andrew Cunningham and ACM Sir Arthur Tedder.

14th June 1943. After two days in Algiers, visiting Allied HQ, HM was flown to Oran (La Senia) where he was met by General Mark Clark, USA. The Royal Party had now been joined by Colonel Dermot Kavanagh (Crown Equerry) and Sir James Grigg, Secretary of State for War. A part of the American Fifth Army was drawn up on the tarmac for HM's review. We were standing in the shade of the aircraft's wing waiting for our next instructions (the VIP party had already walked over to the reviewing stand) when we were approached by a smartly dressed US Colonel draped in cameras. He enquired the identity of the 'Big Shot'. After being told it was HM King George of England, there was a long pause for thought, after which he solemnly said "Gee, I guess that makes all you folks Dooks and Oils". We had to admit with some regret that we were but the crew of the aircraft.

The Royal Party enjoyed an alfresco lunch at the airfield with their American hosts; we returned to Maison Blanche mid-afternoon, in-flight catering being limited to tea, which Corporal Shepherd and the royal batmen handled satisfactorily. On the flight to and from Oran we were escorted by six Lockheed Lightnings (P 38's) of the USAF. HM spent 15 and 16 June in and around Algiers itself, visiting units of the Allied Forces and those ships of the Fleet which were in harbour. I still have the invitation card which admitted me to a Royal Reception at the Villa Germaine where the Royal Party was staying. All the officers of the crew were included amongst the 170 guests for this cocktail party in the lovely gardens.

17th June 1943. The Royal Party, less the Secretary of State for War, but this time with Sir Archibald Sinclair, Secretary of State for Air, left Algiers for Bone to visit units of the Mediterranean Allied Coastal Air Forces under AVM Sir Hugh P Lloyd, a flight of one and a half hours only. Here HM also visited a number of units of the I st Army under General Anderson, the GOC. After lunch on the ground we took off for Tunis, landing at La Saballa, another wartime strip, north-east of the city on the Cape Bon peninsula. The flight was of three quarters of an hour only, and we continued with an American fighter escort, Aircobras again. Two nights were spent in Tunis with HM visiting more British and Allied units in the area. We learned later that HM had a terrific reception from the civilian population of Tunis and the small towns of the Peninsula wherever he drove.

On 18 June, when HM was visiting RAF units of the North African TAF, under Air Marshal 'Maori' Conningham, the York was flown over to another desert airstrip at Gromballia, to be conveniently situated for HM's departure the following day.

19th June 1943. We left Gromballia at the comfortable hour of 1020 for the two and a quarter hour flight to Tripoli where we landed at Castel Benito, the ex-Dictator's showpiece, badly damaged by the RAF. We learned that the plan was for HM to visit Malta by the cruiser HMS Aurora on overnight passage, and there to present the Island's George Cross. After his return to Tripoli the following night, he would review the Eighth Army in a big military parade. The York was thus to remain at Castel Benito for four days.

The Captain (Collins) and Group Captain Jeffs (the latter had flown ahead of the York to each destination so far, in a 24 Squadron Hudson to clue-up ATC arrangements and to ensure that there were no more shambles like Ras el Ma) went off to stay in the Senior Officers' quarters of the RAF Mess. The rest of the crew, left standing in the shade of the wing, were waiting for MT to take us to our allotted quarters. But after the departure of the VIP's, one of Monty's ADC's took mercy on us and invited us there and then to stay at the Eighth Army Headquarters Mess at Zuara, some ten miles west of Tripoli, a tented camp right on the shores of the Mediterranean. We were very well rested in this good but simple accommodation and had the pleasure and honour of being invited to tea (!) at Montgomery's own Mess one afternoon. Whilst lecturing us on how to beat Rommel, he asked if we should like to witness the Victory Parade which was to take place as soon as HM returned in the cruiser from Malta. Obviously the answer was 'yes', so with no further ado an extra car was written into the operation order for the day and we rode round the whole of the royal route in the thirteenth vehicle of the cavalcade.

22nd June 1943. We left Tripoli at 1130 hours with the Royal Party for Algiers and lunch was served on board. We had the same passengers, less Sir Archibald Sinclair who travelled in his own 24 Squadron Hudson (FK 482) to visit various other RAF units in North Africa. Weather was very bumpy and we were obliged to climb to 12,000 feet for a short time to clear the cloud tops, so missing a view of the Mareth Line. The route took us over Gabes and then inland to Biskra, and so back to Maison Blanche. Unfortunately, our ETA did not reach Supreme HQ, and our landing at 1530 hours, was unexpectedly early for General Eisenhower, causing some embarrassment.

24th June 1943. Two days later we left Algiers late in the afternoon for Ras el Ma and home. After discussing the use of Gibraltar with Air Marshal Tedder and the Air Equerry, it was decided to use Ras el Ma again for security reasons. HM's tour had had wide publicity in the regional press, and having had involuntary experience of Ras el Ma, it was decided to give Gibraltar a miss and keep right out of Axis sight. We made a smooth tea-time flight and this time HM was met with due courtesy. The RAF had replaced the unfortunate staging post commander who had been caught out by our unexpected arrival twelve days earlier. We were on the ground for less than three hours for re-fuelling, weather briefing and flight planning, while HM was taken by the CO for a light dinner at the Palais Jamai Hotel in Fez.

On forecast winds our flight plan time from Ras el. Ma to Northolt by a similar route to the outbound one was just on nine hours. As HM had no wish to hang around at this rather desolate airstrip with few creature comforts, we took off at 1930 hours GMT which would have given us an estimated time of arrival of 0630 hours Local at Northolt: early enough in all conscience, but a bright sunny morning was forecast. Our planned route took us far into the Atlantic, to 13 W Long, as on our outbound journey. En route it became clear that the winds were much more favourable than those forecasted, and by the time we turned from our northerly track towards Southern Ireland on to a north easterly heading up the Bristol Channel to Lundy Island and so home by the back door, as it were, I calculated that we should be an hour early.

I had therefore suggested to the Captain that we should reduce speed (and at lower engine revs, make the flight that much quieter) and if need be, make a dog-leg to lose time. This would give the VIP welcoming party more time to assemble at Northolt, nearer the 0630 programmed. However, the change of engine note brought the Air Equerry hastening to the flight deck demanding to know what was afoot. Although we were well past the area of any risk of interception by Luftwaffe longrange fighters, the Air Equerry said forcibly that HM did not wish to add to his time in the air merely for the convenience of the welcoming dignitaries. (I understand that HM did not in any case like flying very much and found the noise of the aircraft very trying, comfortable though it was for that era.)

Thus we resumed our former course and speed and landed at Northolt earlier than expected. The Chief of the Air Staff and the AOC in C Transport Command, along with the AOC in C Fighter Command (AM Leigh Mallory) were in time, but Mr Churchill arrived later, when the party were taking coffee in the Officers' Mess. He was somewhat irate. The Spitfire escort which should have intercepted us in the Bristol Channel caught up with us as HM was being driven across the airfield, dipping their wings as they swept over the airfield.

We were somewhat tired out, not just by the long hours of flying, but perhaps by the nervous exhaustion from the sheer excitement of it all. Barely out of a hot bath in the Mess at Hendon (where we were still based) we were told that all the crew had to be at the Palace at noon. I did not have my 'best blue' to hand, and had to be smartened up by my batman as best he could. We were summoned to an audience with HM in a small drawing room in Buckingham Palace. HM The Queen was present and the Air Equerry in attendance. We were all presented in turn. I noticed a small pile of boxes on a side table and immediately recalled that one of the 24 Squadron pilots who had flown the Princess Royal had been given a pair of cuff links engraved with her crest, as a souvenir. My hopes rose, though there were no means of communicating them to my colleagues.

After a few words about the flight and the tour in general, and charming enquiries from HM The Queen, the King said 1 want to give you all a souvenir of this memorable flight by making you members of the Victorian Order". He then gave each one of us our insignia in its box. In my case this was the MVO Fourth Class, now re-titled Lieutenant of the Victorian Order (LVO). The Air Equerry received the CVO Thus a slightly bemused and weary crew filed out to be photographed against the Victoria Memorial, and so to the Royal Aero Club in Piccadilly for a celebratory drink.

The Victorian Order is not a decoration or award in the normal sense, but is a gift from the Sovereign for a personal service. During the last stage of the flight HM had presented Corporal Shepherd, the RAF steward, with the Royal Victorian Medal in Silver for his part in a most successful flight.

Part 5 of John Mitchell's diary is entitled "Some Lessons Learned" keep a look out for that in the next issue.

Keeping in Touch

THE MEETING OF THE BIG CHEESES

If you thought that “The Pillars of Hercules” was a book by Paul Theroux, 10 out of 10. This title, or one similar has been hi-jacked by a gathering of ex OC’s from Lyneham, affectionately called “The Pillocks of Hercules and we have the evidence to prove it. The photo below shows seven of the species at a gathering in November 2000 at Lyneham. The line up is as follows:- Richard Bates, Mike Davis, Paul Oborn, Martin Stringer, Rick Hobson, Keith Chapman and Clive Evans.

The Pillars of Hercules Nov 2000

Here are a selection of articles from our Summer 2001 issue:-