A Spitfire Pilot - Part 38 and final instalment
On 30th December George Malan had written me a letter and collected some of my gear and got the r/t sergeant to come and bring it to me, which made a nice change On 31st December we were put aboard an ambulance train to go back to the 94th General Hospital in Algiers and again, it was a lot better being an officer than an Other Rank. Officers were two to a carriage or compartment, so we could lie down, one on each side of the seats and the Other Ranks seemed to go in cattle-trucks, which seems a bit unfair, as we were all in the same war and all getting shot by the same people.
The train ride was quite interesting. It was the first time I’d seen my face since I’d been on the squadron and I managed to crawl to the toilet and on looking at my face in the mirror, it wasn’t the prettiest sight I’d seen. To start with I hadn’t had a shave since 20th December and what with an enormous bruise covering most of my face, and being painted with Gentian Violet, it was like something out of a horror film. But it didn’t particularly worry me, all I wanted to know was, could I see again? Apart from that the train was going so slowly that every now and again, the odd arab would climb aboard and sit in the corridors. The French officers who were on the train escorting us didn’t have much time for these arabs and they had no compunction about opening the carriage door and booting the arabs out into the countryside, even while the train was going.
Having got to the 94th General, I was looked over by the chief surgeon and the eye surgeon, who gave me the cheery news that I would never see out of my right eye again and that they’d have to operate and take it out. I pleaded with them not to and asked if they could take the bits of shrapnel out that were in and around my eye, but keep the eye in, as I had some idea that if I could just keep the eye in and look normal, I might wangle myself back on flying. But the doc said, no he couldn’t do that, but after all he gave in and said he’d give it a try.
Well he did, he took bits and pieces of shrapnel out, whilst still in a hell of a lot of pain and he came along and said
“The old eye has got to come out” and again I said “No” and I just stuck to my guns.
But unfortunately by 10th January, I couldn’t stand the pain any longer, so I asked them to go ahead, which they did and the following day I felt a lot better, despite the fact that I was minus one eye. Then I was told by the Padre who came wandering around every now and again, that it was a good job I’d agreed to have the operation because septicaemia had set in and had I not had the operation I’d have gone blind in the other eye and that would have been the end of that. So I suppose I was lucky.
The nurses were all members of Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service and they were a great bunch. They were worked to death, most of the nurses were, but they never complained and were always cheerful and we had a great time with them but all I wanted to do was go home.
George Malan managed to get back to Algiers and came to see me in hospital and gave me all the latest news of the squadron. Apparently Chas had been shot down on that do we had over Mateur but had got back to the squadron alright, and later on in the month, Chas and Mitch, another one of our pilots, came up to see me and told me my DFC was through. Well I had no official confirmation and it wasn’t until I landed in England and phoned Mum that she said it was in the paper. (This was Gazetted on February 23rd 1943 and on the same date DFCs were awarded to S/L Nelson-Edwards of 93 Sqn, F/L Ford, 72 Sqn and WO Chas Charnock, 72 Sqn, of the Souk el Arba composite Spitfire Wing)
I began to feel a lot better physically apart from the fact that I knew I’d never fly again, which rather gave me the miseries, but generally speaking things weren’t too bad. We had a large number of American as well as British people in the hospital and it amused the British lot when an American officer arrived with a little truck or trolley, full of Purple Heart Medals to be given to all the wounded Americans.
I also had a chat with a naval Commander, who’d been shot down while flying a Swordfish and he told me that he was doing an aerodrome patrol, of all things, round Algiers and he’d been going round the harbour time and time again. One day he was trundling round in his Swordfish and he’d gone round the harbour once and going round a second time the American ack-ack opened up and shot him down and consequently as soon as he was fit to walk we used to walk round the hospital chatting to the Americans and pulling their legs like made.
I met one very nice American officer, a Captain Hamlin, who was about 6’ 4” and his leg used to stick out of the end of the bed. The only trouble was that he had an enormous wound in his thigh and occasionally people would walk past the end of the bed and hit his outstretched foot, but he never really complained. He gave me his lighter when I left which I thought was rather nice of him.
I had a lot of time to lie and think whilst I was in hospital and I decided that it was hardly fair to Mum to keep her to our engagement, insofar as, it is one thing to be engaged to someone who is all in one piece and certainly something else to be engaged to someone who is hardly 100% and consequently I wrote and said that so far as I was concerned, she could call our proposed marriage off and there’d be no hard feelings.
Mum wouldn’t hear of any such thing and in all the years I’ve known her, she’s never once mentioned that she thinks she got the worst of the bargain, because your mother, young John, is quite something.
Finally on 18th February, after lots of false starts and lots of hanging about, we were put on board the Hospital Ship Newfoundland and told we were on our way home. We eventually got to Bristol, and were taken off the ship and put on a hospital train to go to an American hospital at Taunton. The nursing sisters saw us off and whilst we were sitting in the hospital train……
Tape ends
This is rather an abrupt end and I'm not sure why. My wife seems to think there was one more tape, but I'm not so sure. Anyway, I'll add a few more of my own recollections and details of the next few years to tidy things up, in a day or so.
Last edited by johnfairr; 6th Jan 2010 at 08:15.