OK, two nods will do! This is too slight a tale, I feel, to qualify for the “Gaining a Brevet” thread, so I hope the Mods will tolerate a little well-intentioned drift. To continue with Cecil Rainey’s diary:
“My flying boots were full of water so away they went, also my Irvine jacket – the latter when soaked becomes a terrific weight. Bill and Aggy, who had come out of the pilots’ escape hatch, were crawling along the fuselage, Paddy and Church were in the dinghy. Nick was on his way up from his turret.
“By this time the machine was almost completely submerged. Aggy was helping Bill, who couldn’t swim but had his Mae West inflated, while I put Nick into the dinghy. Nick still had his full kit on, making the job pretty tough, and by the time it was done the machine had completely disappeared, tail fin and all. I helped Aggy get Bill into the dinghy, then we both climbed aboard.
“It was pitch black, our only consolation being the searchlights over Malta. We had no Verey pistol with us – the nuts on the pistol were so tight that Aggy had not been able to loosen them. So we knew we had to wait for the dawn. Luckily the dinghy had worked perfectly, not the slightest leak. Everybody got comfortable and settled down for a long cold wait. Aggy knew that our SOS had been acknowledged, which was a cheering thought.
“The dinghy was tossing in the swell and all except Ag and I were hanging over the side. Numerous aircraft passed overhead but our .38s were useless for signalling. After about two hours we saw the searchlight of the Air Sea Rescue boat, but we couldn’t signal to them and in spite of our energetic whistling we remained unnoticed. The minutes slowly drifted by, until dawn began to blot out the stars and the outline of the Gozo cliffs began to show up.
“We heard the chugging of a small boat – fishermen from Gozo out with their nets. They were very suspicious of us and stood off at a safe distance. For about half an hour we talked to them, telling them we were RAF, English from Malta, Air Force from Luqa etc. They argued long and loud about us, until finally our uniform wings and stripes convinced them and they took us aboard and set off for Gozo with the dinghy in tow.
“What a sorry sight we all looked. Bill had been cut rather badly, all you could see was two eyes looking out though a mass of congealed blood. Nick too had received a cutover his lefteye and had blood everywhere. We were all cold and shivering like mad. However we settled down amongst dry canvas, sails and bags and started to tell the Gozo boys what had happened. It was tough going but I think they got the general idea of what we had been up to.
“We came ashore after about an hour at a village called Xlendi, and everyone swarmed down to the wharf to see us in. They talked plenty and fast about us but I didn’t get a word of it. Fortunately the local policeman and publican could speak English, so we gave them the gen and off we went to the hotel. We had a tot of whisky and did that ever warm the cockles of my heart. Then we changed into some dry clothes – gee but it was great to be back in civvy clothes again. Bill and Nick looked pretty shaken – bed for them.
“They had hot bovril ready for us in no time. Talk about hospitality, they couldn’t do enough for us. After half an hour the local chief of police arrived. He took all the particulars, then went off to the phone while we had breakfast. Fried fresh fish and chips with bread and butter – I was in like a Sydney burglar. There’s nothing like an early morning dip for an appetite. After breakfast I was feeling pretty good again and ready for some sleep.”
Here was a Wellington engine failure with a fortunate outcome for its crew. I will post a third and final instalment in the next day or two, a postscript with some acknowledgements.