Danny intends to Put to Sea - but not far.
Besides the main story which I've been telling, there were a number of "sub plots" running concurrently in these last days. They will make a change and I hope you find them interesting
Ever since I'd taken over the Flight I'd been trying to get some kind of Air-Sea rescue craft attached to us to patrol offshore while flying was in progress. Every take-off was out over the sea, and it was inevitable that one day someone was going to finish up in the water.
With a load of mustard gas in the aircraft this was not an inviting prospect. If the internal tanks were ruptured, or the external spray tanks opened (very probable as impact with the sea would rip off the tail pipe sticking down at the back), the occupants could be paddling about in a pool of the stuff for some time. In this case it would be better for them to drown straight away and have done with it.
A few weeks before we finished flying my prayers were answered. I was allocated a 24 (?) ft "Bomb Scow" (whatever that might be). I'd hoped for an inflatable of some sort, which could be kept on shore and easily launched from the beach at Moplah Bay (just the other side of the Fort). But this was better than nothing. However, before this vessel could appear, I had to prepare moorings to which it could be tethered.
Three laterite blocks of specified dimensions had to be made and sunk offshore in a equilateral triangle of given size. They had to be connected together by chain cable bolted into each block, then coming together to a single chain and buoy. The length (but not the size) of this chain was specified. That, I suppose, would depend on the size of the boat.
While the CDRE were casting about for the laterite, and masons to cut it to size, it fell to me to produce the chain from RAF sources. No mariners being to hand, Sgt Williams and I looked down the Stores lists, and decided that one-inch chain should be about right for a vessel of our size. The demand went in to the appropriate M.U. (Union Jack is now convulsed with laughter if he is reading this).
I was still puzzled. How were the blocks to be taken out to sea - what with and by whom ? How was the "Scow" to be serviced and refuelled ? How were we supposed to get out and back from it ? Swim ? (there were no port facilities then * - just the beach). I've no idea. All would be made plain in due course, I supposed. An inflatable from the shore, perhaps ? Then give us the inflatable and forget the Scow !
* There are now. A breakwater (pier ?) has been built out from Moplah Bay just South of the Fort. From the tip of the Fort promontary there seems to be a curved extension to the South. The result looks like a little harbour. It would make sense, there is a large military establishment covering the site of the old maidan now and they would need port access.
Of course, it never came to anything. Before we even got started on all this the end was clearly in sight. The project was abandoned. I signalled the M.U. to cancel delivery of the chain (I swear I did !).
By now we were half way through March and my log shows that I left for the UK on 29.4.46. Still six weeks to go, and airmen still have to be paid. Although I'd plenty of odd-bods whom I could have sent down with a truck, on one occasion I drove down to Cochin myself with Sgt Williams. I think it was so I could draw the several thousand rupees accumulated in my paybook from the Accountant officer, take it to Lloyds Bank in Cochin and exchange it for a sterling Banker's Draft to take back home.
Things were hotting-up now. Instead of an hour's flight, it would be a whole day by road through the countless coastal towns and villages. We'd take the 15cwt "Canvas Tilt" Fordson, we could lower the windsceen flat and enjoy the cooling airflow as we trundled over the rough roads at 20-30. I smoked a pipe in those days, and puffed contentedly as we rattled along. I didn't notice a glowing bit of tobacco which blew out and landed on the (starched) waistband of my shorts.
There a smouldering ring grew unnoticed until it reached flesh. Then I noticed in a big way ! A very amused Sgt helped me beat out the conflagration; I had a very sore tummy for some time and resolved not to drive and smoke in future. A few miles south of Cannanore we ran through Mahé, the tiny French enclave I've mentioned, little more than one street.
Much farther on was Calicut, a fair size, but apart from that one village name only sticks obstinately in my mind - Parientalmanna (probably because it sounds like "Parental Manor"..........Small things amuse.......). At one stop about noon I was nonplussed to see my shadow ahead of me in the line of travel, I had a few moment's "Red-on-Black" alarm before it struck me that at about 11° North the Sun would be well North of overhead now. I'd never given it any thought before.
All sorts of odds and ends still need to be tidied up before my story leaves India,
Cheerio for now,
Danny42C.
Any Elastoplast in the house ?