I went to Strubby once on a landaway from Oakington. It was after a low level navex so I needed refuelling. The bowser crew expressed total ignorance on how to refuel a Vampire so I was there on the wing. Outer wing tanks first, tighten the caps and then the inner wing tanks. When they were tight you topped up the fuselage tank.
Three years later I was in Sepulot.
I’d done my time in the Boy Scouts. I had also done my time in the Rhodesian Army so bushwacking held no fears. I had my own cubicle, about 7ft. x 5. A lightweight wooden bed with a sheet and a massive mosquito net. The last occupant had knocked up a small bedside table arrangement and a low platform was supposed to keep the bugs out of you clothes. Meals were taken with plates and suchlike and beer was available although one was limited to two cans of Tiger @ 50c a can. Cigarettes were free! The brands were a bit of a mystery but they were the ones that Her Majesty’s Customs had relieved off entrants to the UK and they were sent out to the troops. The place was comfortable enough and one was able to relax quite well.
Everything came in on the end of a parachute apart from people. The Beverleys of 34 Sqn. used to do a supply run two or three times a week. Fuel was the main criteria. There were no roads so it all had to be parachuted in. A Whirlwind used about a drum an hour so we needed at least 40 drums/week plus supplies of Avgas for the recce Sioux helicopters and the odd 209 Sqn. Pioneer. Rations, beer, ammunition, clothing and anything else would come down in a pallet which has a 4x4 foot thick plywood base which would end up as the sheet material for all the building projects. The empty drums would be rolled, or marshalled by a helicopter, into the river where they were picked up by the locals for all sorts of uses with the dregs of Avtur, about 2 gallons, being used for their stoves. They soon learned the difference between Avtur drums and Avgas. I had arrived with jungle shirts and trousers. These were hopeless in the cockpit in the prevailing temperature and humidity and the standard RAF ‘Tropical Flying Suit’ was even worse. The answer was a light RAAF Nomex overall which the RAF refused to stock. The AAC did though, so one of my first actions was to order one through the Army supply system. Two days later down it came; automatically Class C stores, so no problems about returning it.
You can see a 209 Sqn Twin Pioneer on the right. They took the parachutes back.
Our operational area was effectively from Long Pasir to halfway to Tawau. There was a ridge that streamed along the border between Indonesia and Malaysia and most of our operations were to clearings on our side of the ridge. They were, on the average, about twenty minutes flying and with the Whirlwind’s pathetic payload some fairly tight planning was necessary. We had two crewman on site but they did not fly on the sortie; they acted as movements and arranged the loads for the pilots who flew alone. Operating away from Sepulot there was a system where you arranged your own loading by assessing what was waiting to go. Should it be Gurkas with kit you allowed 220 lbs/person, Brits 200 and locals 160. You would then hold up a suitable number of fingers to indicate what you would take. When they emplaned and were ready they would reach up and tap you on the back of you leg to indicate they were ready to go. Things like seat belts and securing of cargo wasn’t your problem as there weren’t any seats, just belts attached to the wall, most passengers sat on the door ledge with their feet hanging over the side.
One learned the area fairly quickly on the milk runs. Even though the ground was carpeted with trees odd branch patterns would give you a unique position which was sometimes imperative to going down the right valley. When bombing off to some as yet unvisited landing site it was useful during a long leg navigating on the compass and clock to do a 360 halfway there so that you would know what the scenery is supposed to look like on the way back.
There was a Ghurkha company at Sepulot and another at Pensiangan which was in the next major valley. We would have visitors in the shape of ‘The Friends of Hereford’ who would be Brits, Oz or Kiwis. We would lift them to a clearing by the border and a couple of weeks later fly sideways to keep the smell out of the cockpit when we picked them up. There was also a clandestine unit consisting of the local tribe, Murats. They were, of course, in their own backyard and they were invaluable for tracking any strange activity in the jungle. There was one ex Colonial Officer who had been in this part of the world before the war. He could speak the local lingo and he would go to the border longhouses to suss out what was happening on the other side.
As an illustration I took him once to a place called Kabu, a longhouse on the border with just the river separating the two countries. We would fly around the longhouse a couple of times to warn them that we were coming. This was so that they could organise the children to line the side and hang on to the roof to stop our downwash blowing it off. On landing I was greeted by the headman and during the visit I had lunch, probably monkey and hill rice and he proudly showed me his chief’s medal which the British used to present to every headman.
I don't know which are his wives or family.
We had one Helistart Landrover which had been parachuted in to supply us with 24 volts. It couldn’t go far; there was a track to the bridge across the river to the village and that was it. I had a wander down there one day and went across the bridge somewhat shakily.
[/URL
In the centre they had a memorial stone with a Colt 0.5 in. machine gun on top. This was a memorial to a Liberator crew that crashed nearbye in 1945, captured by the Japanese and beheaded.
To be continued