Danny

With regard to Mt Abu Hill Station being leased, you concluded that this would have been so, as it was post-Independence. No, I think you were on the right track earlier. Wiki explains that the land belonged to the Rajah, being a princely State. So the Brits, not owning the land, had to cough-up in order to take advantage of the cool of the hills and build a Station. The British Resident made Mt Abu his base, very sensibly.

Also, I wrote:

'women now play a full part in the Service. Arthur had rather traditional views on the latter: seeing women as being good in certain roles, such as clerical work. Times change... and sometimes for the better.'

You replied:

'Matter of opinion!'

I thought I was cutting it a bit fine now and again! You, Sir, hold your life cheap! Don't you realise how many women are out there who would part you from your nearest and dearest for saying something only half so deprecating about women-kind? My advice is: keep your online anonymity in-tact... at all costs!

All women who happen to come across this post, please don't get confused. I am the one who thinks women have been under-rated for centuries. Danny is the one who doesn't! (Danny is also a lot more courageous than I am... a quality that's fully counter-balanced by his tendency to chauvinism!) ;)

Learning the Hard Way.
 

Stanwell (extending my #234),
First, it turned out that "a properly handled capital ship could not beat off air attack". This opened the door for the Jap armies to complete their conquest of colonial Asia (to this day, no one really knows why they stopped at the back door of India [for there was little to stop them going on]; the most probable explanation is that their LoC were just too long to stretch any further).

Even so, if they had pushed on just the short distance North to take Chittagong, it would have made the eventual reconquest of Burma much harder, for they then would have had a deep-water port to ship in supplies and reinforcements.

Then do you remember how we chuckled at the funny little Jap motorcycles when they first appeared in UK ? Then we woke up one day to find that we didn't have a motorcycle industry any more ? Much the same happened in the air. The "flimsy litle things which would fall apart if hit" turned out to be the carrier-based Mitsuibishi "Zero" and its similar, but less glamourous land based Nakajima "Oscar", the bane of our lives in Burma.
The Japanese designers had taken to heart Igor Sikorski's famous exhortation: "Simplicate and add more lightness" (we tend to favour the opposite view). The result was that the Zeros and Oscars could "Float like a Butterfly, Sting like a Bee" (to coin a phrase ?) They could run rings round our more heavily armed and heavier fighters. In our case, the Hurricane IICs could blow an Oscar to bits if they could only get it in their sights - but the Jap pilot would need to be asleep for that to happen. It was only the strange myopia of the Japanese Army Commanders which saved our VVs being massacred in the air like the Battles in France (or the Wirraways in Rabaul).

They held the Oscars on the ground, wasting them in ineffective "sweeps" to strafe opportunity targets on our side. Why they did this is another of the unanswered questions of the war. It was not until the Spitfires came out in number that we had an answer to the Oscar.

Danny.

Quite. Not only were their lines of communication over-stretched, the Japanese army was over-stretched, per se. That was reflected by their meagre rations, tatty uniforms and lack of 'Rest & Recuperation'. Of course everyone knows of their using Allied POWs to hurriedly construct supply railways to improve their lines of communication. When it came to the retaking of Burma, there were nine times as many Allied squadrons as the Japanese could muster. It's rather doubtful that they had the means to conduct an effective fighter air defence, ready to systematically intercept Allied offensive operations. Also, the RAF was doing an effective job of neutralising their air force. Well defended airfields might not be bombed, but the fuel and munition dumps, essential for their aircraft to operate, would be. (The precision Vultee 'Vengeance' played a role in that.)

The Japanese were on the back foot even before their failed thrust into India in 1944. Though the Japanese were extremely hard and courageous fighters, the Allies were much better resourced. And never let it be forgotten that the 14th Army achieved their victory in 1945 only because of the outstanding work done by the RAF and USAAF. Books about the campaign tend to paint the Air Force as being in a minor, supportive role, when in fact they were a decisive factor... as General Slim, the 14th Army commander, had no hesitation in admitting.

Before leaving the topic of Hill Stations, Danny, Arthur had a special memory of one of these places. The background to the tale was that, wherever they were posted, he always made a point of seeking out suitable priests to administer to the squadron.

At Ranchi, he came across a Catholic priest by the name of Father Jacquemotte. He was a Belgian in charge of a Mission in the vicinity. While having a drink with him in the Mess, Arthur learned that the priest had, with the fall of Belgium in WW1, escaped and joined the RFC, which whom he flew over the Western Front. The Germans had forbidden all Belgians from escaping to join the Allies, with the consequence that his family were rounded-up and executed, as an example to all. Arthur asked him when he had last flown, to which he replied that it was not since WW1. So he was offered a flight in the back of a 'Vengeance'.

As they walked out to the aircraft, Arthur asked what he would like to do... some aerobatics, a vertical dive or a low level flight. Jacquamotte's reply was 'Let's beat-up the Mission!' and this they proceeded to do, at low level and with repeated passes. Down below, was a sight to behold. All the nuns, priests and other staff came rushing out, madly waving sheets and aprons. The following day, a wooden box appeared on Arthur's desk. Inside was three bottles of vintage red wine, with a note that said 'NOT FOR MASS!'

Some weeks later, Father Jacquamotte told Arthur that he was looking very tired and that if he could take a few days off, he would arrange a short holiday for him. He was indeed tired and so agreed to his offer. Taking 84 Squadron's Equipment Officer with him, Arthur flew to Calcutta. There, the pair took the narrow-gauge 'Toy Train' up into the hills to arrive at the Hill Station of Darjeeling. They were guests in the Bishop's Palace and, in the absence of the Bishop, were given the use of his suite. The food and wine were excellent and, as a favour, Arthur presented the Sports Day prizes at the Catholic girls' school. The most memorable moment, however, was to for them be be up before dawn. They walked to a viewpoint and there before them was a panorama of the mighty Himalayas. Most prominent was the snowy peak of Kangchenjunga bathed, exquisitely, in the orange light of the rising sun.

Arthur said that his time at Darjeeling was truly a delight and that he and 'Pat' returned to the Squadron as 'new men'.

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...henjunga-1.jpg

Thanks for that insightful post, Danny.
Because (what we called) the South-West Pacific Area of operations was mainly the province of the Imperial Japanese Navy, the Mitsubishi A6M 'Zero' was our main worry.
The Ki-43 'Oscar' that you chaps had to deal with, I believe was every bit the equal of the legendary 'Zero' in capability.

Just as an aside, a late mentor of mine in the 60s, an old aviator by the name of Sid Marshall, had a complete and original 'Oscar' in his hangar.
'Knowledgeable' passers-by told their friends it was a Zero.
To complement that, he had a similarly complete and original Messerschmitt Bf109G hung from the rafters.

Additionally, just BTW, he also had, among other things, a couple of Spitfire Mk.VIIIs in his backyard.
I know, because I'd sat in them making 'vroom-vroom' noises.

I also had an inkling that, at the time, he had his eye on that Vultee Vengeance, EZ999, that we'd discussed previously.
People tended to regard him as a bit of an eccentric 'junk collector'.

NigG,
I quite agree on the score of the Japanese LoC/logistics capability.
It became reasonably apparent to us down here in the SWPA from 1943, if not earlier.
I can only think that the Jap 'senior management' were thinking they could keep us guessing for long enough to give them time to work out what to do.
Besides, they had the Emperor's blessing.
.

Discretion is sometimes the better part of valour !
 

NigG (#243),

A thoughtful analysis of the critical campaign in the WWII Burma war. But in the early days, before the tide turned, it was a desperate affair, with our only objective being to stem the Japanese advance with whatever we'd got - which was not much. Indeed, when we were sent out in autumn 1942, India was widely regarded at home as a probable lost cause. We were intended to fly anything there was to hold off the Japs in a "last stand" to enable as many Europeans as possible to be evacuated before we were overrun.

Now we know that the line was held, and from 1944 we got on top of the Japs to carry the war to its sudden conclusion the next year. I have read that more Japanese soldiers were killed in Burma by British and Indian troops than in all the American Pacific island battles put together (but have no authority for this).

One small cavil:
They hadn't. But all it would take was a single pair of Oscars, well handled, to destroy a box of six Vengeance. Of course there was no radar, and no other early warning systems, and Burma is a big place. But our strikes on their defensive bunkers were so regular and predictable, that you would think it worth their while to put up a pair on patrol "on spec" for a day or two.

Our chosen tactic was to stick together, stand and fight. But half our six rear twin 0.303s were handled by navs with no gunnery training at all, or by ex-Blenheim turret chaps who'd last fired a round the year before. The omens were not good.

And the Hurricanes, who'd done the fighter affiliation exercises with us at Dum Dum, said that our box of six was so unhandy that they would have no trouble in keeping us in their sights. Very occasionally we had an escort of a section of Hurricanes. One pair would fly high cover, and the other guard our tails. We said these huddled close to us to enjoy the protection of our rear guns ! Obviously, a better idea would have been for us to scatter and run ! The Oscars might get one (or two), but otherwise they'd bag the lot. It was always "on the cards" - but luckily it never happened, but nobody knew why.

Danny.

Danny

... Interesting (as always). I had a look through Arthur's log book and noted that of the 108 operations he conducted over Burma, 4 were aborted in the air due to Jap aircraft being reported in the target area; on one occasion they saw 'bandits' heading in a different direction; and another occasion Arthur encountered Jap Oscars while in a 'Spitfire' (and brought one down).

A note at the end of March '44 states: 'Over 336 sorties carried out by Japanese fighters and bombers over N. Burma front, during last fortnight.' So, as you say, the Japanese were around but didn't make a concerted effort to protect key targets from Allied bombers (for whatever reason).

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...ze-pilot-1.jpg

(Above: Japanese Ki-43 'Oscar' fighter. School girls wave-off a kamikaze.)

I was interested, recently, to play the tape of his interview at the Imperial War Museum. Usuallly he talked with an air of nonchalance about his shooting down of the Oscar. On the tape, he was more candid. He was using the squadron's weather recce Spitfire to check the weather before the squadron took off on an operation. This was to avoid wasted fuel and aircraft hours if the cloud was impossible. He had dived through heavy cloud down to 4000' at which point he saw two Oscars 1500' above him. In the tape he admitted that he reacted as any bomber pilot might and scuttled for cloud cover. On coming out a few moments later, there was a single Oscar in front of him. He said 'Taking my courage in both hands... baring in mind I was a bomber pilot... I closed in'. Apparently he made the beginner's mistake of opening fire when too far away and consequently missed. He then got closer and fired again, seeing cannon shells strike home. Bits flew off the plane, which then turned on it's back and dived vertically into cloud over the mountain tops. He was at first credited with a 'probable kill', but this was later changed to 'confirmed' after an artillery unit confirmed the destruction of the Oscar.

This particular (taped) account was a rare instance of his talking frankly about his emotions. Invariably he was blase about his experiences, as if he was reluctant to admit to moments of 'weakness'. (Maybe that's a military man's thing?) But then he didn't have the skilled raconteur's gift of capturing the audience's imagination by fully sharing the moment. You Danny, of course, have that gift, as your many descriptions reveal. Most notably, the story of the loss of your aircraft. (page 8, post 154)

NigG (your #244),
The RAF adopted that as policy in RAF(G) in 1960. Not enough RC chaplains to go round. At Geilenkirchen they recruited a Pater Gregor (a Cappuchiner [sub-species of Franciscan] from the monastery of Watersleyde just over the border in Holland). A genial white-haired, tough old Bavarian from Ulm, he spoke perfect, accent-free English (POW ? - never asked, should've done, he might have been in a Me109 in 1940 - so would have had a good long time to learn English).

Of course, the RAF paid him a stipend (which his Order would pocket - for he cannot sell his services) - and sent transport there and back for him on Sundays). Often had him for lunch with us. Knowing I was trying to learn colloquial German, he got his Abt to invite me over for a few hours one evening a week, where they put me in with a monk who knew no English (no mean feat in Holland) and left us to get on with it. Final triumph: told him the legend of St. Swithin and the forty days of rain (July 15th coming up, btw ?) The legend, it seems, not then known in Germany. It is now.

We could hear Mass in the RC Church in town, and it was still the Tridentine in Latin, but the first fruits of Vatican II were coming in. Sermon had always been in German, but now Epistle, Gospel and Paternoster too. But the Masses were of a formality strange to us: men one side of the aisle, women and children on the other. A robed Beadle with a massive rod of office stalked the aisle, marshalling newcomers to the correct side. A fearsome boss on his rod made it clearly inadvisable to argue.
Long excerpt from my "Pilot's Brevet" p.151 #3019 (the rest of it may be of interest):
The would have taken the overnight broad-gauge train up to Siliguri first, at dawn changing to the narrow-gauge "toy train" of "switchback railway" fame to complete the journey.
Jammy ! The best I could do was to meet the Assistant Principal RC Chaplain while recuperating in Calcutta. As a Group Captain, Fr. Feeny was allowed temporary membership of the Bengal Club, which turned away anyone under the rank of full Colonel or equivalent. He invited us to lunch there as his guests. Snag: "Stew" was still a Warrant Officer. Solution: borrow somebody else's cap and P/O's shoulder cuffs, "Stew" takes off his wristband with the "Two Dogs Fighting". Very reprehensible, of course, and the padre would have been chucked out of the Club had it been discovered, but we got away with it, had a superb lunch, and "Stew" was commissioned soon after anyway.
Marvellous pic ! Went up to Darjeeling once (night train from Calcutta Sealdah station), got up at sparrow-fart and climbed (?) Tiger Hill. Everest in cloud, see nothing, waste of time, might just as well stayed in bed and bought postcard.
Have a little b/w print (94x40mm) in logbook, taken by "Stew" from back of VV at 10,000 ft one morning on Nepal boundary (70 miles south of Everest - whole story somewhere on my Posts).
There was a good (true ?) story about the affinity between the juice of the grape and the RC clergy. Airfield in Burma is soon going to be overrun by advancing Jap troops in 1942. Squadron is getting ready to pull back. RC Padre is heartbroken by thought of leaving the Messes' stocks of wines and spirits to fall into enemy hands. Son of the soil as he was, he digs hole, buries the lot in Mess garden, and reinstates turf so expertly that no sign of any disturbance.

Tide of battle turns, Squadron and Padre comes back to same place. Padre grabs spade and digs. All there still - but all labels have come off and rotted. Only thing to do now, open them all and taste. Well, it's an awful job, but someone's got to do it....

Finished as a Monseigneur, I believe (honorary award, sort of "Long service and Good Conduct" badge). Well merited, I would've said. Should have been put up for a MBE.

(your #247),
Spare my blushes ! All it is, of course, is just the "Gift of the Gab" which comes with my Irish ancestry. Any one who has it can "talk the hind legs off a donkey", as my dear old Mum used to say.

Too long, sorry, Mr Moderator.

Danny.

I'll second NigG's observation of your 'gift' ,Danny.

Your description of the VV test over Cholaveram and its effects upon those below, when originally posted on 'Brevet', had me almost wetting myself.
It did the same to me this time around.
I was having trouble communicating to the missus that there was no need to call an ambulance. :ok:

"....Down and down you go...."
 

Stanwell,

Glad to hear that my story raised a chortle or two ! But it was really rather naughty of me. Although I did a lot of practice dives at the beginning (when we were working out, by trial and error, how to dive-bomb), and a fair number operationally, unnecessary dives were frowned upon after the Vengeance had been pulled off 'ops' on the onset of the '44 monsoon.

Although I have said, and it is true, that our technique was safe provided you did it absolutely right, and kept an eye on your altimeter, you have a lot to do in the twenty seconds. The "normal" VV accident (particularly at the OTU) was to go in at the bottom. Of course, the chap was not around to tell us how it happened.

There was always a degree of risk. I never did it again, would never had authorised it, and my pilots at Cannanore (none with any VV 'op' time) were strictly forbidden even to think about it.

Danny.

Danny

Your story of the air test of a Vengeance at Cholavrum, and your resulting unpopularity, reminds me of one of Arthur's antics.

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...ation-1940.jpg
(Arthur flying a Blenheim Mk1, off the Isle of Man, for radar calibration)

His first posting of the war was to Jurby, on the Isle of Man, where he was a staff pilot, taking trainee aircrew up to practice their various skills: notably bomb-aiming and gunnery over the sea. While there he got to know a family by the name of McKay. The father had owned a laundry business in York, but moved his wife and two daughters to the Isle of Man to escape the expected German bombing of mainland cities.

A good looking young man, Arthur was bit of a young woman magnet, and before long became good friends with one of the daughters. The family had a house overlooking the sea and Patricia asked him to zoom over the house sometime. This he did one day, on his way back from a training sortie. He lined up his Blenheim with the house, climbing up from sea level, intent on giving the roof timbers a good shaking. Fortune would have it that although his flying skills were spot on, his timing wasn't. Mrs McKay was at that moment sitting up in bed with a tray of tea balanced on her lap. As the two Bristol Mercury engines blasted over head, the outcome might easily be imagined... the whole lot went airborne and back down over her and the bed clothes.

He remarked:'After that, I was not at all popular, but to her great credit, Mrs McKay said nothing about it on my next (very much quieter) visit to her house!' :rolleyes:

Have a Care !
 

NigG,
Quote:
When I committed my unthinking act of terrorism, was serving on a (Radar) Calibration Flight.

Rather beaten-up stub nosed Mk.1 ! One summer day in 1938, two 16 year old cousins propped their bikes up on the hedge at the perimeter of Wyton (?), and in hopeless envy watched a couple of these doing circuits and bumps.

Tony went into the REME, I ended with "wings and rings".
.
It would have been Ramsey (which is to Douglas what Southport is to Blackpool). We had a fortnight there every year in the summer hols before the war. Never saw it again but once, in small twin SAAB turbo-prop Newcatle-Dublin. Glass-clear day, he flew down E.coast, from window could see beach, harbour and Mooragh Park lake (complete with tiny island in middle) where I (12 ?) went solo after 10 mins instruction in little old tub with just enough sail to give steerage way.

Beating-up girl friend's house strictly forbidden - but often done := But remember the "up" part. You should reach your low point before you reach the house, then climb up over the roof. Lovelorn swain goes over still going down, object of affections waving madly in garden, takes "eye off the ball"......CRRUMP ! :eek: Happened many a time.

Eheu, fugaces.....

Danny.

.....where I (12 ?) went solo after 10 mins instruction in little old tub with just enough sail to give steerage way.

Your Day Skipper's certificate is in the post......:ok:

Jack

Jack,

Well thankee, kind sir ! But am "on the beach" for good now, and the best definition of a boat is:
"A hole in the water, lined with mahogany, into which you pour money"

Walter (#251),

Afterthought:
But said :mad: to her daughter on the day !

Danny.

NigG (your #241),
How could I have overlooked this bait for so long, and not risen to it ? (only excuse, there was a lot on at the time, what with Everest and Darjeeling and padres and buried booze and all that).

Now don't get me wrong. I do not denigrate women per se. "many of my best friends have been women" (after all, I married one !) and have a mother and a daughter, too. Nor do I question their suitability for many rôles in the RAF. In my own speciality (Air Traffic Controller), I saw the first wave of their reintroduction in the early sixties, instructed several of them (and mentored one ot two) during my three years on the School at Shawbury. Subsequently, on my last tour at Leeming, I watched three or four of the Shawbury alumnae blossom into alert and competent young Local, Approach and Radar Controllers, fully equal to the young gentlemen who had taken short-service Commissions in the Branch at the same time as they.

Only trouble was - we didn't get the length of service in return for the time and expense of their training (nor should we have expected to). I cannot think of one of ours who served out her full Commission - they were all married off before then. On the contrary, one of the young men at Leeming made a full career and finished as a Wing Commander, as did another who had been through Shawbury in my time. Others transferred to General List and served to pension age. Some left the RAF to make their way in Civil ATC.

Our ATC WRAF were simply uneconomic. As for the pilots we now train, words fail me ! The cost of training an RAF Pilot must now be astronomic; if she then calls it a day and resigns on marriage, the taxpayer carries the loss.

As for a paean to misogyny, I can only recommend: "The Earl oF Chesterfield's Letters to His Son" (your local librarian will order it for you after she has recovered from the shock). In the days when "Male Chauvinist Pig" was all the rage, I found a very effective riposte to be to ask the scoffer what a "Chauvinist" actually was (Most had no idea).

Stand by for incoming ! :*

Danny.

#228 . . . ..


Stanwell

While I am no student of military history relating to the fall of Singapore, there is a school of thought that the Jap push down the Malaysian Peninsula to Singapore could have been checked and perhaps turned round had General Percival been other than he was . .. a commander lacking highly developed tactical skills . . . unable or unwilling to use the intelligence to hand to act decisively. He dispersed his defences when he would have been far more effective mounting a pincer tactic to cut off the Japs supply lines which by then were desperately strung out. (This is the view of old mate, a Vietnam vet, one who has read widely on Australian military history pertaining to the war in the Pacific. )

CN Trueman - 'The Fall of Singapore.' -


RE: fall of Rabaul
The RAAF squadron leader, John Lerew ,who uttered that immortal Latin tag survived the war to later become Australia's chief delegate to ICAO in Montreal.

from a 1945 Sydney Morning Herald article -

John Lerew, whose name has
become a legend for laconic
humour, A literally classical ex-
ample of this was the signal he
sent to R.A.A.F headquarters on
January 21 1942— the eve of Rabaul's fall
— "Morituri te salutamus " (We who
are about to die salute you)
Actually they did not die. The
Japanese landed in force at Rabaul
on the night of January 22-23 and
the R.A.A.F. personnel there were
evacuated by Empire flying-boats
after a long trek down the coast to
a secret rendezvous.

Danny42C
It happened to a friend of dad's permanent RAAF in Canberra in the late fifties.
AIRCDE Lloyd Davies, who was having a Christmas drink at our place.
He recounted how at the end of his basic training at Point Cook in 1938 he took a Wapiti on a solo nav-ex to a property on the outskirts of Deniliquin . ( locally known as "Deni", a town in the Riverina region of New South Wales close to the border with Victoria.) . It was the home of Lloyd's mate on the same course at Point Cook. There on that sunny Sunday afternoon , driven by lustful or romantic thoughts of the daughter of the family, Lloyd shoved the nose down into a steep dive at the object of his affections whom he thought he could see waving frantically next to the tank stand (always good to stand near a tree , a tank stand or other obstacle to a clear path of display.) At what Lloyd in his ignorance thought was the right height to pull out, he hauled back on the stick, only to have the poor old lumbering Wapiti carry her momentum flat into the garden. (****-oh-dear. . . . . it is not recorded what he said to Felicity (mate's sister) upon emerging from the wreckage .. . but what a shot that would make to supply the apt caption.) What story Lloyd told his superiors is also left to the imagination. . . . but whatever it was he lived to fly and fight another day. (He gave me back then in Canberra days a snapshot of a CAC Boomerang he had once flown. On the back of the photo he had written "Boomerang - Ground-looping little bastard."

Danny

I have to say... your are a 'wonder'! Plainly, you are 94, otherwise you wouldn't be young enough to have served in WW2. Yet, unlike my father (of similar vintage), you really are on the ball. Arthur would have been flummoxed by the term 'misogyny'... and I, even, at 62, struggle to spell the damn thing! However, am I not right in saying that women are no longer obliged to resign from the Services on becoming pregnant? In other words, giving a woman an expensive training is no longer a waste of tax payers' money if she procreates. Similarly, I can imagine that in the past, women would usually become housewives after marrying (if their husband had enough money to support them both). But now-a-days running a home tends to be a shared activity. So neither marriage nor having a child should now interfere with a woman's Service career.

However, my Politically Correct credentials fully on display, I will return to the good old days of the all-male RAF! What prompts me is my having scanned a few more photos from Arthur's collection. The date is 1937-9, when he learned to fly in the RAFVR at the 'London Air Park', Hanworth, North London. First, a view of the location. Only Hanworth House (then a hotel) still stands (though it's now sealed-up). The hanger, machine gun range (top right) and concrete apron, installed in 1938, are long gone. The ground where they stood now gets paced by people walking their dogs, on what is now a public amenity area:

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...ouse-right.jpg

The following picture shows Arthur seated, ready to demonstrate his skills for his final Wings test:

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...rt-trainer.jpg

Lastly, Arthur about to take-off to practice formation flying:

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...g-practice.jpg

The latter was with Flt Lt Rowley, the ex-chief pilot with Alan Cobham's Flying Circus, mentioned earlier in the Thread. Some of Arthur's early lessons were with this instructor. On one occasion, he got told to 'Hurry up!' as he walked out to the aircraft, a Blackburn B2. Arthur quickly clambered in, not giving himself time to do up his parachute harness or strap himself in. Rowley started the engine and immediately took-off and then headed west, evidently in some sort of hurry. After a while he started a steep turn and shouted 'There they are!' Arthur replied through the Gosport intercom: 'Yes Sir... who?' They were now flying low over Windsor Great Park and back came the answer: 'The King and Queen, of course!' Sure enough, below was a Landau. In it were King George V and Queen Mary, the open carriage being towed by four white horses. They were on their way from Windsor Castle to Ascot to open the racing season. Going round again, Rowley suddenly closed the throttle and put the aircraft into a steep glide alongside the procession. Then, a moment later, opened up again and pulled the aircraft sharply to the right, behind a row of trees. Afterwards, Arthur had a bit of a story to relate. The aircraft had certainly been identifiable from the lettering on its side... what would be their fate? A couple of months in the Tower? Happily, nothing came of it, so Arthur had no reason to regret this early lesson in just having a bit of fun! :ok:

Thanks for your post#257, Fantome.

Re the Malayan Peninsula Defence, I'd heard a few things said about General Percival and his conduct of that defence - not too many of them complimentary.
Of course, many theories had been advanced as to how that defence could have been better conducted.
Having said that, though, I wonder just how many of those critics were actually there. I, too, hold a Degree in Hindsight.
As had been noted earlier, the big problem was more deeply-rooted than that.


Re the 'attempted defence' of Rabaul, you'll note that I was referring to the aircrew specifically.
CoodaShooda kindly came in with the historically correct sequence of events in his post #229.

Sqn Ldr Lerew had lost twelve of his aircrew on the previous day and had just two operational Wirraway "fighter" aircraft left - which would not have lasted five minutes against the Japanese invading forces.
The 1945 Herald article was correct insofar as the Squadron managed to evacuate at the last minute.
That would not have been the case had John Lerew followed orders.

Those who got away were the lucky ones.
Around 160 troops subsequently captured at Rabaul were marched off to Tol Plantation and bayoneted to death.

Danny42C ... I beg to differ with your #256 perspective on WRAF ATCOs amortising their training costs. It may have been true in the past (or was it just a rumour?) but I can assure you we monitored this carefully both at Innsworth, Commands, and in my 'Personnel and Training' office at NATS. We obtained full value from the training, and for every 'dolly-bird' who bagged a pilot there were plenty of others who completed a SSC, obtained a Permanent Commission, and served to 38 or even 55.

I shall now resume our holiday (currently in Anchorage, AK) ;)

Times change !
 

NigG (your #259),
Arthur had no need of the word: it had not entered the everyday language.
On what planet are we living ? We're trying to run an Air Force here ! Can't anyone see that that proposition makes an unanswerable case for not having them in front-line service at all ?. In an auxiliary rôle, certainly. We had our WAAF (Women's Auxiliary Air Force): the Luftwaffe its Luftwaffehilferinnen . Worked well enough on the day.

Lovely pics of a vanished era ! In No.2, what is that tripod-like affair in front of the "Hart" ? Something to do with the Hucks Starter, perhaps ?
A hanging offence now ! We can only marvel at what they could get away with on those sunlit days of the thirties.

Danny.

Fantome (#257),

The story of the loss of Singapore is one of the saddest in our military history. Churchill himself termed it "the worst disaster" in that history. Although we arrived in India less than a year after it had happened, we knew nothing beyond the simple fact that it had done so. Wiki gives (as far as I can see) a balanced and factual account of the seven fatal days: (8th-15th February 1942). Reading it is like watching a train crash in slow motion.

In the years since it has been minutely analysed by military historians: popular opinion has heaped the blame on Percival and his subordinate generals, but I have seen little reference to what may have been the "Achilles Heel" of Singapore - the fresh water supply.

Wiki makes glancing reference to this in its sober account as follows:
and
and
and
I would say, that with the Japanese now in a position to cut off the city's fresh water supply, he had little option

Of course, the first (impregnable ?!!) line of defence was supposed to have been the Navy. Churchill had sent out a "task force" of two battleships, the ageing "Repulse" and one of our newest and best, the "Prince of Wales", with a defensive screen of destroyers. Had that group been at sea barring the path of the invasion transports, the landings in Malaya could never have taken place. But we know what happened to the "properly handled capital ships that could always beat off air attack" - they couldn't.

They had no air cover as they sailed north, and maintained radio silence so as not to alert the invasion fleet. It was hard luck that they were spotted by a Japanese reconnaissance aircraft. It saw them, so they probably saw it (but remained quiet). Not until after the first crippling blow from the torpedo bombers did Admiral Phillips break radio silence. Not to ask for air cover against the second attack which would surely come, but to signal Singapore for a tug to help his POW, limping along at 1½ knots on one shaft, back to port.

The second attack came, he went down in his flagship, the Navy lost 1500 (?) men. Singapore was wide open.

That was the story as I heard it at the time.

(Your #258),
He was very lucky to escape alive !
Not the only one. The Harvard was notorious. And a Vengeance on one or two occasions ! I suppose it is possible in any tail-dragger (but never heard of a Spitfire doing it).

Danny.

MPN11 (YOUR #262),
Sir, I defer to your much greater knowledge of this. But I can "only speak as I found" about my last few years at Leeming before retirement in 1972.

In that time we had only a small handful of new WRAF Controllers, all good-lookers in the full bloom of their youth. As an AFS, each was outnumbered 50 to 1 by normal, fit and healthy young bachelors living in the same Mess, roughly of the same age as themselves: having survived OASB these would have been "above average" in comparison with the locals with whom they had previously been acquainted.

Well, it just had to happen (didn't it ?) - "you can't stop the sun from shining !"

It may well have been that in later years some would decide to make the RAF a full career, and be very successful. Indeed, had I decided to take up the option (thank God I didn't) to extend to 55, in my next posting I might have greeted my new SATCO with an Elizabethan flourish and a "Good Morning, Ma'am ! (having had the same kind of shock which the sight of my first Sqn Ldr without ribbons below his wings gave me in the early '50s).

Made me realise I was one of "Yesterday's Men" - and my time was up !

Danny.

Danny

'One of yesterday's men', you wrote. I'm pretty sure that Arthur had similar thoughts. He admitted to clashing with a number of superiors. It must have been frustrating to have so much knowledge, experience and expertise, then to find someone of doubtful background but superior rank telling you that you are wrong, or otherwise think it appropriate to breath down your neck.

I recall something related that he wrote about, as follows...

'In March 1953, I assumed command of Old Sarum, which, among other things, was the home of the School of Land/Air Warfare (later renamed JWE). The commander of the LAW was an Air Vice Marshal. I called on him on the day I took up my post as Station Commander. For the first few days he was continually on my back - "this is wrong!" - "that needs altering!" After the third day, I'd had enough. I said to him "Will you please give me a month to find my feet and decide what needs to be changed. If I have not settled-in to your satisfaction by this time, you can ask Command HQ to find a new Station Commander". He had a look of utter astonishment on his face, but agreed so to do. I never had any trouble with him after that, and we became good friends.'

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...rthur-1959.jpg

NigG (#966),

I agree. The very worst type of Senior Officer in the one who tries to micro-manage his subordinates. Give a chap a job to do - and then let him get on with it ! - is by far the best policy. If he then screws-up, get rid of him and appoint somebody else. We all learn best from our own mistakes - if we're allowed to do so.

Danny.

Mercifully, during my 2 tours as a SATCO, all my OC Ops and Stn Cdrs let me get on with doing the job I knew. I express my gratitude to them all, even if I did have to have 'sharp words' with one OC Ops on one occasion ;)

MPN11
Ahh... you can't leave us hanging on your last words!! And how is Anchorage and the great Alaska? :)

Danny
Beautifully summing-up of what it is to have a respectful boss. (But, from you, I'd expect nothing less!)

MPN11,

An' all those whales 'n things ? Remember, that is not Moby Dick, and you're not Captain Ahab any more. ("Thar she blows!")

Safe trip home - tell your Captain to "Fly Low 'n Slow, 'n plenty of top rudder on the corners".

NigG,

Mercifully, I have always been blessed with such Bosses - apart from one who didn't know me from Adam, and another who didn't know what day it was most of the time (no names, no pack drill).

Danny.

Greetings, chaps! Thanks for asking - both Arizona and Alaska were very interesting, and warm and sunny! Now recovering from the journey home: we left Anchorage at 0125 on Friday, and flew via Phoenix, Charlotte and Dublin back to Jersey, a 30-hour trip ending at 1300 on Saturday [all times local] :)

Anyway ... my only 'clash' was with an OC Ops who also happened to be an old buddy [I shall avoid identifying him]. From my back office I was aware that he was giving my young fg off Watch Supervisor a hard time about something, so I intervened. In the subsequent "May we continue this in the privacy of your office, Sir?", I suggested that if he had a perceived problem he should use the 'chain of command' and address his concerns to me in the first place - instead of giving a fg off a hard time over professional ATC matters. He took my point, graciously, because he was that sort of 'good bloke'.

Actually, I now recall we also had a 'lively debate' about something in the Mess one evening. I realised in the morning that I had probably pushed the boundaries a bit far, and went to his office to apologise. I knocked, and when he called "Come in" I opened the door and entered walking on my knees, apologising as I did so. He laughed, accused me of drinking "Vino Furioso" the night before, and we both moved on ... contentedly.

Another OC Ops [elsewhere] used to come and 'hide' in my office, drinking my freshly-brewed filter coffee, when the Stn Cdr was giving him a hard time. "Only my PA knows where I am, and he's sworn to silence" ;)

Indeed, my SASO also did that at HQ 11 Gp, hiding from the AOC ... and he also used to raid my box of cigars. I always felt I provided some form of 'Social Services' to some of my bosses :)

MPN11

Ha! Very amusing! Actually what you related also gives an insight into what sort of person you are (..if you don't mind my saying so). I rather think someone who would be good to work for, and with. (30 hours trip home? ..Rather you than me!)

The issue of leadership-style is something anyone who's served in the Forces would be able to talk about at length. Arthur had a sobering experience with his first CO on 84 Sqn. This Wing Commander was notorious for his 'sergeant-major-like' characteristics. The squadron was at a landing ground in the Western Desert, in 1941. It was an interesting place, having been 'relieved' from the Italians, with various wrecked enemy aircraft littering the place. It was both rudimentary and susceptible to attack, so the squadron had to dig-in. The three aircrew of each Blenheim IV dug a group sleeping shelter, and in addition to this a Mess shelter was dug for meals and team get-togethers. The CO's order was that the latter would be dug by everyone first, after which crews would be free to work on their own shelter. For reasons unknown, Arthur, a Flying Officer and recent arrival to the squadron, and his two colleagues, both Flight Sergeants, got stuck into digging their shelter before work had started on the one for the Mess. After a short while, the CO came storming over and tore the three of them off a strip for disobeying him. (I tend to visualise the three of them standing to attention, but firmly braced against the severe blast emanating from the CO's voicebox!) I doubt there are many F/Os who would relish being told-off in front of their subordinates, especially in that manner.

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...esert-1941.jpg

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...ern-desert.jpg

I might add that the CO in question went on to become an Air Vice Marshal. So, I guess his capacity to make people jump must have impressed someone, somewhere. :confused:

(Rescued from "Pilot's Brevet"....... Danny got it wrong - again !)

MPN11 (#271)

Welcome home !

The story of your various contretemps with Higher Authority are typical. I have on occasion had to rebuke a young officer for diving in to solve a disciplinary matter, or a dereliction of duty by an airman, on his own, when the correct thing to have done was to bring in the NCO concerned to deal with it. (And, to put it mildly, if there's any shouting or "effin' n' blindin'" to be done, your NCO is the man to do it).

NCOs (I was one for 12 months) hate being "left out of the loop" like this . it undermines their authority. I always kept in mind a story from my father. His Company was on the march in France (WWI). They were marching "at ease" and becoming rowdy, but not unduly so. The Captain became irritated. But instead of ordering my father to "quieten the men down, Sergeant" (which my father was well able to do), he bawled at the men himself. The troops were shocked, my father felt useless, and it did nothing to improve the trust which should always exist between his officer and himself.
(Was it Rombouts ?)
and
I would suspect their motives ! (Indeed, I would suspect yours, did I not know that you were already at the top of the greasy pole of the Branch) "Fresh brewed filter coffee" ? "Box of cigars" ? How do I get a posting to your outfit ? It can't get much better than that !

And there was me, gasping for a cuppa, as yet another intake of baby Hoskinses reached Controlled Descent phase and heaped up far over my grizzled head (the while wailing: "I got it up here - now you get me down !")

(your #8960),

Buttons, Trousers - Escapers for the Use Of.

The "pivot" button was a good idea. But you would need a fairly level surface. Can't remember them. Our button had to be hung on a bit of thread. Now that I come to think about it, I agree that the tiny luminous spot was on the outside flange of the button. But surely that was wrong ? If the "goons" got the slightest hint of the idea, all they would have to to do would be to parade the prisoners in a dark room, switch out the lights - and look for glow-worms ! :ok:

Apologies NigeG, but the second/lower photo in your post #272 intrigues me - can you please identify the aircraft in the background, is it a Bristol Bombay?

Thanks

PZU - Out of Africa (Retired)

NigG ... regardless of 'status', we are always 'people' and thus surely should always behave appropriately? If a chap needs to hide somewhere for a coffee and a cigar, who was I [a humble sqn ldr] to deny a 1* a bit of happiness? The same rule would have applied to any of my team.

Danny42C ... one surely makes the best of one's environment, wherever and whatever level it might be? Whether it's a hole in the sand, or filter coffee! I had my own furniture, lighting and accoutrements in my SATCO's office, and indeed had to dissuade the Stn Cdr from stealing my 'vintage' RAF desk!

Pretentious? Moi? Just comfort, and perhaps a management tool ;)

MPN11
 

When I was at Changi 67-69 the Stn Cdr was Grp Capt Eric 'Peter' Merriman, I recall a fairly popular man particularly with us Herc' crews. He had flown the Herc' on exchange with the USAF before the RAF got them.

In 1970 some of my mates who had been co-pilots on 48 were doing their captain courses and as part of that they made a visit to 38Group at Upavon. Knowing Groupie Merriman was now on a staff tour there, they made a point of calling into his office to say hello. While exchanging pleasantries, all of a sudden came a shout from the adjoining office, that of the AOC, " Merriman, get your arse in here ".

The mate who told me this, a junior Flt Lt, was quite shocked to hear the Grp Capt spoken to in that fashion. I similarly, had I been there, would have equally been shocked. How the mighty had fallen, one day OC one of the largest stations in the RAF, the next a mere office boy!

It wasn't until about 4 years ago when I read Merriman's obituary in the Telegraph that I realised the shout must have been made in jest, as he and the AOC had been young fighter pilots on the same squadron in 1941.

MPN11 ,
It is the mark of the "old soldier" that he makes himself as comfortable as possible wherever he is.

Danger may be inescapable, but the man who endures unecessary discomfort is a fool !
(Hence my air-transportable charpoy in Burma).

Danny.

DZU

I seem to recall asking my father the same question about the wrecked aircraft in the photo, and I think he said it was Italian. (Now there's a challenge!) The landing ground had been in Axis hands and there were wrecked German aircraft there too. But, obviously, the aircraft in question wasn't one of theirs.

Continuing on from my previous post about Arthur getting a roasting from his CO, he had little story about another, and very different style of encounter with a superior. In this case, one who was very much a superior.

Having escaped from Sumatra in the wake of the Jap invasion, and arriving by ship at Karachi (then in India, now in Pakisthan), Arthur was at something of a loose-end; only 132 of 84 Squadron having got out with him, and all of the aircraft had been lost. He was therefore attached to 301 Maintenance Unit at Karachi. One of his first jobs was to take an Imperial Airways flying boat back to Egypt to collect a Hurricane and ferry it down to India, in the company of eleven others. Having arrived in Egypt, he was accommodated on a Thomas Cook Nile steamer, this being used as a 'Transit Officers' Mess'. The following morning a Group Captain arrived and asked 'Are you Ft Lt Gill?'. 'Yes Sir!'. 'Air Marshall Tedder, the C-in-C, want s to see you. Will you report to his ADC at 4 pm'. Arthur duly got himself to AHQ, only to find that this wasn't AM Tedder's HQ. So he eventually arrived a bit late for the appointment at HQ Middle East Air Force. He wrote:

'I was ushered in to AM Sir Arthur Tedder's office, whereupon a silver tray of tea was brought in for the Air Marshal. This he passed to me and another, of rather inferior crockery, was brought in for him. He asked me all about my experiences in Sumatra and whether I knew of the fate of (his friend) AVM Pulford, Air Officer C-in-C, Far East Air Force. I told him that I hadn't seen any Air Officers and, together with the squadron, had been intent on bombing the Japanese invasion fleet, landing areas and airfields until the very end. We had lost 24 aircraft in five weeks'.

Tedder had previously seen 84 Sqn off from the airfield, when it left his command, bound for the Far East (...and oblivion). He very much regretted their, and other squadrons', departure to shore-up the Far East in view of the imminent threat from the Japanese. I've seen RAF newsreel footage of AM Tedder... I guess we all have... and he comes across as a very genial man. The sort of person you would want to work for. As such, he stands in contrast to Arthur's CO in the Western Desert... who was a driver rather than a leader. Arthur must have felt somewhat flattered to have been consulted by Tedder, and to have been treated so cordially.

http://www.pprune.org/members/457066...force-1942.jpg

I rather wonder whether this encounter was to have an empowering effect on Arthur. Some weeks later, it still hadn't been decided what the fate of the remnants of 84 Sqn was to be. Most likely, the personnel would be assigned elsewhere and the squadron would be disbanded. Arthur decided to fly up to Delhi and speak to ACM Sir Richard Pierse and his staff at Air Command India. He argued for the squadron, which had served since 1917, to be reformed and re-equipped, and thus be given a chance to hit back at the Japanese. He was successful and perhaps his earlier meeting with the great man Tedder had been a factor in the whole affair.

You might think that, but those at Tengah and Akrotiri [in their heyday] might disagree :)

PS: yes, I worked in Changi Tower on detachment for a couple of weeks from Tengah, as a rest tour - and to teach the guys how to use their new "PAR" ;)

Indeed, Sir! My tent at Bisley, for the annual shooting Championships, was fully carpeted and furnished. Any fool can be uncomfortable ;)

MPN11

Very nice photo of you and your desk. I was going to write something about certain people being wasted in the Air Force... and how better they might have suited the portals of No.10.

(But... decided that discretion is the better part of valour!) ;)

PS. That said, am I not correct in saying there was an unfurled Union Jack standing in the corner, just out of shot?