大象传媒

Escapers Escapade Part Two

We arrived at Hassani to find that everybody; except just a rear party had left. The whole place has been cleared since we had left to go to Lamia. All equipment and aircraft likely to be of use to the Germans had been destroyed. The aircraft we had gone to so much trouble to recover was also destroyed! The few airmen that were still at Hassani said that everybody had gone to Kalamata a small port in the western Peleponese, south of the Corinth canal bridge.

Having made sure that all of the detachment from 54 R.S.U. had gone I then realised that I was on my own. Sgt. Wallis who had gone to see that the Hurricane we had rescued had then been properly destroyed told me I could ride with them. Being now my own C/0 I decided to take his offer. What else could I do?

The truck I boarded was already loaded with the rear party of 53 R.S.U. LA.C. Pay was about the only new friend I had made, Sgt. Wallis was on another truck. However, we set off well after midday and drove through Athens to take the road to Corinth and Kalamata, where it has been said the evacuation was being operated.

We were no longer the welcomed allies. The King had gone, the defence had collapsed, the German Air Force was everywhere. The crowds that had gathered in "Omonia" Square and along Constitution Hill just looked at us with dismay. I had only arrived a few weeks ago and now I didn't really know why or where I was going.

Perhaps it is a good thing to be young, naive, or not too learned when involved in such a situation. In later years I now understand the anxiety of the older N.C.O.s and Officers. There weren't many officers about as I recall. All pilots who had an aircraft were off to Argos or Crete, or somewhere else. I knew not and I cared not.

The road from Athens to Corinth went past the Acropolis and into open country. I've often wondered what happened when the German occupation took place. I had noticed some anti British gestures in the north. The people of the south in the Peleponese were more friendly, although they were aware of the collapse that was occurring. It is a very sad experience to look at the faces of a proud people who are facing, without hope, a future that can only be full of sorrow and misery.

The going was hard and progress was slow; darkness came and I often wonder what happened to the British soldiers with a mule train that we passed very late in the night. The only stop was for an hour or two for rest; even then it was about four o'clock in the morning when we crossed over the bridge over the Corinth Canal. I remember looking down in the dawn light at a small ship in the canal below. I was told that we would be about the last because it was to be blown up that day. I have not heard if it was destroyed.

By this time we had caught up with transport of other units. The lorry I was riding on broke a big end and had to be destroyed. We offloaded and pushed the lorry over the side of the road down a drop of perhaps a thousand feet. It bounced, turned over and seemed to take ages to hit the bottom.

The occupants of our broken down lorry were then shared out amongst other following vehicles and I was picked up by a truck with about six airmen in the back. To this day I do not know the unit to which they belonged.

News had been spread somehow that the German advance from the north was getting into full swing. Greece was rife with "fifth columnists" and we suspected that our movements were duly reported to the German intelligence. How otherwise did the bombers and "Shufti"( Arabic word meaning look.) kites know where to look? They seemed to have good knowledge of what we were doing.

It had been whilst crawling up the long hill around Mount Argos that our truck engine had failed and the people who had given me a lift were bound for the airfield at Argos.

At Argos airfield I learned that my unit had gone to Kalamata and I would have to "tag on" to whoever would give me a lift; if and where there was movement. However, a rest or sleep was the first priority but the night was restless. I slept in the olive grove in which all the vehicles were parked. Throughout that night there was sound of high explosive not too far away. This was the bombing raids, unopposed by ACK ACK, over towards the sea. That way lay the port called Navplion.
A ship had been attacked in Argos bay at Navplion. I was later told it was the "Ulster Prince".

There was on Argos airfield one or two Hurricanes. One had a damaged radiator and it stood in the open near a wide drain. W/0 Casey of 80 Sqdn. was calling out for engine tradesmen to work on it. With only myself to please I went with one or two other airmen whom I did not know, except that they were "Engines".

As we arrived to look at the job with a view to "patching it up" the real trouble started. There was no air raid warning system as there had been in England. Enemy aircraft would arrive without any warning, and open fire straight away. The Hurricane we hoped to get airborne had a shell splinter in the radiator and was beyond repair in those conditions.

Our decision to run for it was made by the sudden arrival of three or four "110s mitt der yeller nose" I was told that the 110s - with yellow spinners were from the "Herman Georing" Sqdn. of the Luftwaffe.

That night three Hudson aircraft landed and I remember hearing them take off very early in the morning. I didn't know then, but I later learnt that those pilots and senior officers for whom it was necessary to get over to Crete, had left in those Hudsons. It didn't affect me; with no aircraft available, pilots were to go where they could be of use. I did learn one lesson. I realised that without technical airmen, of which I was one, the greatest Air Ace on earth is stymied, especially when the enemy is operating from just over the hill.

The next day I was caught in the open during a strafing raid. For some reason, now forgotten, Pay and myself, with one or two other engine/airframe fitters were walking over the open ground between the olive groves and the long drain ditch at Argos airfield.

Messerschmitt 110s, there must have been six or more - suddenly appeared from over the hills to the north. The first thing I realised was that they were here to put an end to Argos as an airfield. The very first 110 came in, smoke trailing behind as his cannons fired. They were using incendiary/explosive ammunition to start fires wherever possible. We took cover in the ditch until we realised that down the end of the ditch was a store of petrol barrels, 40 gallon steel drums visible from the air without doubt.

Strafing does not ruin a landing strip but it will ruin everything else. The stack of petrol barrels would be a target - and it was. We got out of the ditch and ran as fast as possible. One of my most clear memories is of airmen's legs and how fast they can move. Looking towards the other side of the "strip" I saw a few more airmen running for shelter. In the distance their little legs were moving so fast that it was a funny sight. Amid all that excitement I remember being amused! Thank god for comic sights.

Argos was not a good place to be in. There was no point in staying. Anything that would fly had gone. I failed to find anyone of my unit so I was virtually alone. L.A.C. Pay and I were separated.

I missed him in the final panicky exodus from Argos. I had to "bum" a ride with some people whom I didn't know; there were several lorries leaving and I boarded one of the last. We were all in the same boat so a friendly attitude developed amongst us, the stragglers of different units and squadrons.

The route taken was to Sparta and then to Kalamata. At Sparta we talked to some Greeks who seemed to know everything. We were warned to be careful, the fifth column was everywhere. We were told that there was nothing at Kalamata, the last ship had gone. I don't know who assumed command of the party of men I was travelling with, but I learnt later that he was the F/LT Adjutant of 112 Sqdn. We moved to an olive grove with a brackish stream of undrinkable water running through it.

Our whereabouts was soon known. As soon as we settled to rest for the evening and night a German flight of 110s came looking. If they had seen us they would have raked the olive grove with cannon fire. They didn't see us.

It had been learnt that Gytheon was the place to make for. Some other British airmen had gone that way because it was too late to go to Kalamata - so we were told.

Darkness fell before we arrived at Gytheon. A crowd of airmen were laying about on the quay of this small fishing port. The Adjutant of 112 Sqdn. had procured a boat to sail to Crete but it had first to be cleared of petrol tins. I volunteered to assist when W/0 Casey of 80 Sqdn. asked for help in this task. I had already met W/0 Casey of 80 Sqdn. at Argos. We were all very tired by that time.

With a small dinghy we rowed loads of four gallon petrol tins to a beach and stacked the tins in a small church. The tins could not be flung on the sea as they would betray our presence.

Inside the church was a cockney airman who swore at me for handing the tins in through the door too quickly. It was dark so I did not see the chap at all that night. About a year or more later, in Cairo, I met a man named Gibbons. He had been my friend in the same squad in a block at Uxbridge as recruits. He was not sober, but later on as we talked we discovered that he was the man inside the church door swearing at me.

We were great friends at Uxbridge and at Mansion in nineteen thirty eight. I have never seen him since that day in Cairo in 1942. At that time he was on leave from 112 Sqdn. in the Western Desert; I was also on leave from 54 R.S.U. in the Western Desert.

I must return to Gytheon to continue my story.

Whilst helping to prepare the small sailing craft, about 60 feet bow to stem. I had talked to W/0 Casey and I told him of my plight and asked if I could travel with them. He asked the Flight Lieutenant Adjutant of 112 Sqdn. if it would be OK. I was accepted and very pleased.

We were most uncomfortable on the boat although it was large for a fishing boat. It chugged around the coast and I heard that the Adjutant had used the P.S.I. money that he was carrying to buy the passage to Crete.

In order not to be at sea in daylight, the ships owner sailed into a small sheltered bay south of Gytheon to lay up through the daylight hours. We went ashore and slept as best we could. By now we were a very scruffy looking lot but I managed to get a shave. I had managed to get hold of some food at Argos. Food was a problem, most chaps had had enough sense to get a private store of bully or beans. I had about three tins of beans and some tins of meat but they were heavy. We had discarded all our kit excepting what we could carry easily, and helped ourselves from an abandoned ration truck.

The engine of the boat had behaved badly on the trip round the coast during the night. It was a calm and starlit night.

Early next morning Mr. Casey said he would like to climb up the high hill by the creek where we had anchored. "Would I come with him", asked he, so he and I started the climb with my overcoat on, all of my few belongings in my pack and, of course, a full water bottle.

The hill was, as I recall, about three or four hundred ft. and quite a difficult climb with all my clothing. We walked on the levelled peak and I saw in the distance a grey flying boat, near enough to recognise but quite two or more miles away. A Sunderland? It was indeed.

Mr. Casey and I waved and jumped about, I took off my greatcoat to expose the white lining and Mr. Casey found a stainless steel shaving mirror which we polished up and used to catch the sun. We were seen just as we had given up hope and the flying boat turned towards us.

I later heard that we were suspected of being Greek fifth columnists signalling to a German aircraft. I do remember some shouts from below. I have since read that we were taken to be fifth columnists signalling German aircraft and that we were shot at. The bullets must have travelled wide. From the top of the hill we watched the commotion below as the dinghy was used to take the men out. They were moving fast. We started the difficult climb down but at about half way Mr. Casey and myself sat down and watched as the Sunderland engines opened up for take off. I've heard it had about 80 men on board. The sea on that morning was like a mirror and no wind. At one time we thought it would not lift off.

It seemed as if it went miles before it got airborne and with it went our hopes. We had spotted the flying boat, they did see us and came in, but we two did not get near the beach - let alone get a lift. We were not the only ones to be left behind. I remember somebody saying in consolation "Supposing they get shot down?" As it turned out they got back to Alexandria safely.

After the flying boat had gone from sight Mr. Casey and I rejoined those who were left, now about thirty. We were told that the engine of the boat on which we had left Gytheon had failed. A "dicky" engine was not the ideal engine for making a night journey towards Crete. German aircraft were everywhere, looking for a target to strafe; thank God that the Sunderland had got away. It had been a "sitting duck" for about thirty minutes.

It so happened that another fishing boat was in this creek and the Adjutant of 112 Sqdn. (whom I now regarded as my C/0) very successfully, quickly negotiated a swap of boats. The second boat was smaller and we would be as much as it could carry. The owner/captain was very dubious about the excessive load. There was hardly a space for another man.

I found a place on the stern and sitting next to me was an airman referred to by his friends as "Pop". He was a Volunteer Reservist about ten or fifteen years older than most of us. His name was Warburton. I met him after the war at Church Fenton. No 609 Auxiliary Squadron were "called up" for six months in 1951. We talked about our adventure for a short while but we didn't exchange addresses.

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