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CHAPTER NINETEEN
TRANSPORT COMMAND
MID-MAY 1944 TO MID-DECEMBER 1945

On 27th of May 1944 a Hudson of 353 Squadron landed at Jiwani for fuel no its way to Mauripur (Karachi). It was flown by F/O Gabitasw and next morning conveyed me to Karachi. This was all familiar country to me now as I had been in India over two years and was well acclimatised. Flying Control told me they had been notified a Liberator was taking off for Allahabad that night, to be precise at 0200 hours on the 29th of May 1944. The pilot agreed to me being a passenger.

At 01.30 hours on May 29th I loaded my kit onto the Liberator and at 0200 hours, dead on time, the Liberator took off and headed for Allahabad. The flight took five hours. The waterproof fabric engine covers were stowed in the Liberator’s bomb compartment. They made a comfortable bed for a passenger, for most of the flight I was fast asleep.

Allahbad is about four hundred and fifty miles west north west of Calcutta and was very hot in May and June 1944.The CO of number 22 Ferry Control Unit was W/C Nolan-Naylan. The unit was engaged in delivering new aircraft from Allahabad to operational squadrons in the forward areas. These aircraft were mostly Beaufighters, Mosquitos, Spitfires, Hurricanes and Thunderbolts.

To get the delivery crews back to Allahabad the unit had a flight of eight Hudson’s. New aircraft were flown into Allahabad by another Ferry Unit, probably based at Karachi. Their pilots/crews would then return to Karachi, leaving the aircraft at Allahabad. Every afternoon ‘allotments’ would be telephone to Allahabad from Air Headquarters in Delhi. ‘Allotments’ would specify which aircraft type and number was to be delivered to which squadron and where the squadron was located.

Every afternoon an officer wuold be detailed to sit by the telephone to receive the ‘allotments’ when Delhi telephoned. This was a very tedious duty on an afternoon when the temperature would be about 120 degrees in the shade. The telephone had to be manned from 13.00 hours to 17.00 hours by which time the individual doing the ‘manning’ was just about flaked out by the heat. The telephones in those days were not that clear, to ensure the ‘allotment’ was correctly received involved much requesting of repeats, shouting and spelling out with the aid of phonetics.

In the evening the flight commander would make out a programme for the next day, detailing which pilot/crew to which aircraft and where to deliver in accordance with the ‘allotments’. If six aircraft were to be delivered each one to a different aerodrome the collecting Hudson would need to prepare a ‘circular’ flight plan to avoid going over the same ground twice. If the six aerodromes were far apart, say one was to Imphal in the north and another to Cox’s Bazaar in the south both about seven hundred miles form Allahabad and about three hundred miles from each other, the Hudson could not get to them all during daylight hours.

On a day when the ‘allotments’ were similar to the above two Hudsons would be needed, on some days even three. The Hudsons we used were ‘demilitarised’, having had the turrets and suchlike warfare ironmongery removed. The Hudson was ideal for this work, it had a good eight hours endurance, we could land and pick up passengers without stopping engines and could usually get back to Allahabad without refuelling.

About the first trip I did on the Hudson flight was to fly to Bishnupur (Bishnupur is about seventy miles south of Asansol where I was with 60 Squadron in the summer of 1942) to pick up a funeral party. A Mosquito had pranged at Bishnupur a couple of days before, killing both crew members. We landed at Bishnupur and loaded the two coffins into the Hudson. Then the padre and a firing party with rifles and blanks to fire over the graves. We then took off and flew them to Asansol which was the nearest British Military Cemetery. At Asansol they were met by road transport to carry them to the cemetery.

The composition of the burial party is laid down in regulations according to rank. These two chaps were both flying officers, I have no doubt the funeral party comprised the correct number and rank of officers, the prescribed number of sergeants and other ranks. Rupert Brooke got it about right in his poem ‘The Dead’:

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich dead!
There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But, dying, had made us rarer gifts than gold.
These laid the world away; poured out the red
Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be,
Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene
That men call age; and those who would have been,
Their sons, they gave, their immortality.

Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,
Holiness, lacked so long, and love and pain.
Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
And paid his subjects with a royal wage;
And nobleness walks in our ways again;
And we have come into our heritage.

Parties of airmen were sent to the hill stations during the hot weather for ten day spells to benefit their health. Up int he hills they had a chance to get rid of their ‘prickly heat’ (an unpleasant skin rash) and other minor health problems. Indian railways laid on special trains for these parties and there had to be an officer in charge of the train. For one of these trips I was appointed ‘officer i/c train’. It was an interesting experience. The airmen were all on their best behaviour. We were on the train for about forty eight hours. The military set up field kitchens at certain stations where the train would stop for a couple of hours at meal times. The last forty miles of the trip up into the foothills was by motor transport. I cannot now remember where we left the train or which hill station we went to.

It was at this hill station that I had my only experience of leeches. We were told about leeches in lectures from the MO. If we found a leech had attached itself to us it must not be brushed off as its mouth parts would remain int he flesh and cause septicaemia. The recommended means of getting a leech off you was to apply tincture of iodine to the skin above where the leech had attached itself such that the iodine ran down into the leeches mouth. The taste of the iodine would cause the leech to let go and fall off. Another way was to apply the hot end of a lighted cigarette to the leeches body.

One evening I felt some irritation around my right ankle. When my sock was removed there was a leech. It had been there some time and was so bloated with blood it was about the size of a golf ball. It had had its fill of blood and had fallen off but was retained in my sock. Before it attached itself to me it would have been about the thickness of a matchstick and about an inch long. It would have got onto my ankle through my sock when I walked through some vegetation. Airmen often carried a phial of iodine with them as it could be used for an antiseptic as required, it could also be used to purify water in an emergency.

So the airmen had their ten days up in the hills enjoying a reasonable climate. Then it was down to the railway station, on to the train and the journey over the parched plains of northern India back to Allahabad.

The Ferry Control Unit at Allahabad not only delivered new aircraft, they would also collect aircraft and move aircraft for any reason as directed by Air HQ in Delhi.

We delivered new Beaufighters from Allahabad to Colombo (Ceylon) to 22 Squadron which was being re-equipped with Beaufighters to replace their Beauforts. After delivering the Beaufighters we flew the old Beauforts to a Repair and Salvage Unit in northern India. The huts on the camp were thatched with leaves from banana trees. On one of these trips we brushed past a monsoon cumulo-nimbus cloud. The turbulence was violent, from four thousand feet we were thrown to two thousand feet and the wooden edging around the wing tips was splintered such that it looked like tightly bound bundles of straw.

On the first of October 1944 I took off in a Vultee Vengeance (American dive bomber) to deliver it to Jodhpur. The pilot was W/O Veales, a Canadian. In the region of Agra the engine died, we made a wheels up landing in a flat smooth dried up river bed. A number of curious villagers came to see what had happened. From these villagers we learned the location of the nearest police post with a telephone. After we had been on the ground half an hour W/O Veales went off to find the telephone to contact the RAF, I stayed with the kite.

All the villagers walked about bare foot. The men wore just a loin cloth, the women with a length of cloth wrapped around them and draped over their heads. The children wore no clothes at all. Lubricating oil was dripping from the damaged engine. One of the villagers asked me if he may please put some of this oil on his knees as he was suffering from rheumatics. He caught some drips in the palms of his hands and massaged it into his knees.

After we had been on the ground about an hour an American Curtis-Wright ‘Commando’ flew over. He saw the Vengeance on the ground and came down to have a look. I waved my arms and moved about such that he could see I was alright. He made a circuit and came back at a height of about twenty feet, throttled back, and threw down to me the first aid kit in a canvas satchel as carried in all aircraft. Although the first-aid kit was not wanted it was a most kind gesture. Unknown to me he was also sending a signal to Jodhpur.

About half an hour after the ‘commando’ flew away W/O Veales came back accompanied by a local policeman who was authorised to take charge of the aircraft. Also contact had been made on the phone to Air HQ in Delhi so the situation was known and we were free to make our way to Allahabad. We must have walked to the nearest railway station. As it had been a very hot hard day we had a cold shower under one of those elevated water towers used for putting water into the steam engines. The ‘Ferry Aircrew Pass’ we carried got us priority tickets on the railway to Allahabad. About a week later we found out that the engine had died due to a fractured fuel pipe.

Allahabad I always imagined was a British Army base in peace time. On the outskirts of the town was located a fort. This fort was very extensive and very strong and secure. It was built of red brick, probably after the mutiny of the 1850s as a strong point able to withstand prolonged siege. In 1944, located within this fort was an ‘officers shops’.

In areas of India where there was a concentration of military personnel usually an ‘officers shop’ could be found. These shops were like military clothing stores where officers could buy items of uniform clothing, boots, bush hats, equipment etc for cash. No long and tedious form filling, requisitions, countersignatures etc were required. These shops enabled officers to replace lost or worn out items of kit with a minimum of trouble.

To get to the officers shop int he fort at Allahabad one had to get past the guard room and sentries and other security obstacles. On arrival at the counter where the transactions took place a notice as follows was displayed:
‘As man to man is so unjust
I do not know which one to trust
I’ve trusted many to my sorrow
So prove your identity or come tomorrow’.
You were required to produce documents, including an identity card with a photograph to prove who you were, if you did not have these or if they were not exactly in order no transactions could take place.

About the middle of October 1944 some re-organisation took place, although I never moved I now found myself on the strength of No. 9 Ferry Unit. A day or two later I did move to Bishnupur with all of the Hudson flight. This flight now became a separate unit under the name of the Ferry Convoy Flight. I most remember Bishmapur at that time for the rat infested huts we lived in. The rats ate the buttons off shirts and bush shirts, they ate the bristles off shaving brushes. They took away tablets of soap and shaving sticks. Leather shoes and boots were also on the menu. As well as rats eating the uppers of shoes and boots termites would come up through the floor and chew through the soles, ants were everywhere.

So at night all gear had to be put away in sheet steel trunks, the four legs of the bed had to stand in tins of paraffin to keep out ants and bed bungs. The mosquito net was suspended from bamboo rods tied to the bed legs, the only way for insects to get onto the bed was either by flying or swimming through the paraffin. Our camps were always plagued by pariah dogs, always known to us as pye-dogs. Attempts were made to reduce their numbers by shooting them with the .303 rifles. Pye-dogs were so tough they would often continue running away although we knew they had been hit by a .303 bullet, a ‘sten’ gun at close range was more effective.

We carried on flying the Hudsons or anything else that came up. I flew with the unit CO, F/L Beatty a Canadian; after he was posted I flew with John Mather who took over. One day when taxying a Hudson on the taxi-track the aircraft swung off at ninety degrees on its own volition. After coming to rest John tried again, engines and brakes perfect. He taxied up to the engineering section and told them what had happened. While we watched they jacked up that leg, took off the wheel and exposed the internals of the brake. They were multi plate brakes, about twenty-five steel plates splined to the axle and twenty five brass plates splined to the wheel hub. These plates were arranged alternately and when the brake was applied they were squeezed together by hydraulic pressure.

The flight sergeant took off each plate carefully and examined it for wear and distortion. All the plates and all other components were within the specified limits. Put it all back together, all perfect. A few days later a similar fault and again a third time. No reason could be found and things began to be said about John’s exposure to the sun. A few weeks later all was explained and John’s reputation was restored. The hydraulic pressure was delivered to the brake by a flexible hose of about twelve inches length near the brake such that the telescopic shock absorber could operate. An especially bright young airman realised that when the undercarriage was compressed it caused the flexible hydraulic pipe to kink, this caused sufficient pressure on the brake side of the kink to cause the brake to lock on. Adjustment to the fixing of the hydraulic pipe solved the problem.

One of our navigators was a shot-putter with an international reputation. He had training sessions in the evenings every few days. We all went along for tuition. How it was that he had a sixteen pound iron shot to hand I don’t know, I can’t imagine he carried it about in his kitbag. As he had it we all benefited by it. Also there was an American army ‘Indian’ motor bike that did not seem to have any particular owner. We all had a go at riding that. It had a foot clutch and a hand gear lever. I remember it was very smooth, powerful and luxurious.

Bishnupur also had a camp cinema, I did go to it a few times but can’t now remember the names of any of the films. So things went on at Bishnupur as we approached the end of 1944. Christmas day was a special day. As is the tradition in the RAF the officers wait on the airmen at dinner time. Whether the airmen think this is a good thing or not I don’t know. We all had a jolly time. Flying did go on on Christmas day as usual.

1945 ONWARDS

About January 1945 the mess treasurer collected money in payment of mess bills in the mess in the evening and put the money into a metal cash box with a locked lid. When the bar closed about 23.00 hours the cash box was missing. An extraordinary mess meeting was called the next day. The cash box had been found broken open and empty. At the meeting the PMC outlined action that could be taken: report the matter to higher authority, this would mean bringing in the RAF police (the unmitigated bastards) and the local police. Alternatively we could keep the matter ‘in house. He left it to the mess to decide.

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