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From Brindisi in southern Italy which was where we had landed I was, soon after, flown via Malta back to Cairo for debriefing. After some weeks I was posted by sea back to Italy and to a place called Torre-a-Mare and from there after some delay to a place whose name I can no longer recall, which was a holding place for we wireless operators. For several months we did very little. I suppose it was intended as a kind of rest camp.

One day, it must have been early summer by then, an operator was needed to go on another mission. The lot fell to Taffy Thomas. I remember him for his ginger hair and moustache. Off he went and it wasn’t until a month later that we heard that he and all on board the plane had been killed. It had crashed into a mountain in Greece. And now the lot fell to me.

Re-kitted out with a new suitcase radio and all necessities (I do not remember whether they refilled my flask), I was introduced to Flight Lieutenant Darlow RAF a Met. officer and Lieutenant Legg (Army) who was, I believe, an Engineer. We were also given civilian clothes. I for one did not fancy being caught by the enemy in civvies; one would probably have been shot as a spy. We were, in a sense, spying but at least had the protection of wearing uniform. However I believe that some army personnel were indeed shot in spite of being in uniform. Fortunately, I did not have occasion to wear the civilian clothes.

At Brindisi airfield we, in the late afternoon of a September day, boarded a DC3 (Dakota) and flying in an easterly direction arrived in the dark at our dropping point. It was the same place where Taffy Thomas had been killed when his plane hit the mountain. After we had landed we were collected by the welcoming reception party. They had a very well established camp on the mountain and we were given a good meal. There we rested for several days whilst a mule train was organised. We checked all our kit and I was able to make contact with the base station which was now established in southern Italy. The personnel at the reception camp were a mixed lot; apart from the Greeks there was an Austrian who had decided that he didn’t like the German Army and a couple of Australian soldiers who had been left behind when there had been a very hurried evacuation in 1941.

We moved down the mountain with our mule train (mule transport was a constant factor of Balkan travel). Without mules and their attendant muleteers we wouldn’t have got far, we came to the village of Sarande on the north coast of the Gulf of Corinth. Here we dined on, and much enjoyed, a meal of the fish Red Mullet. I had never previously eaten this fish which I found to be very tasty. It was arranged that we would travel by boat to the east of the Gulf and having embarked we were rowed for several hours over the calm, clear waters of the Gulf, finally landing at a one time seaside resort.

For several days we rested up, bathing in the crystal clear water. We were waiting for transport to take us on to a place inland. I got very badly bitten by mosquitoes which fortunately for me turned out not to be of the malarial variety. The transport when it came put the wind up us. At that time any vehicle engine noise suggested a reconnoitring enemy. However it was not the enemy but our own transport — a gas driven lorry arriving one evening. We piled on board and were driven away.

Our next stopping place, as I recall, was a village from which the Germans had recently departed. We lodged in a building which was possibly their mess. The walls had been decorated with German sketches and apart from the sketches there were unfortunately lice, and I became host to these beasts for the second time for I had been similarly afflicted in Albania.

We did not stop long there and were soon moving on, usually by night. We crossed main roads and skirted farms. The farm dogs were very alert and set up frightening rackets. We were now down to two, Flight Lieutenant Darlow and myself. Lieutenant Legg had left us to go about his own business. We were of course accompanied on and off by the partisans. Eventually we camped on a hillside which overlooked a German airfield. There seemed to be quite a lot of activity. JU52 transport planes were coming and going with great regularity. We decided to intervene and a message was encoded and transmitted to our base. Next day we got our reward. Allied fighter aircraft appeared suddenly low over our heads., and diving down machine gunned and bombed the airfield leaving some aircraft burning. The following day the attack was repeated. We learned later that the airfield was being used as a refuelling stop for the evacuation of the Germans in Crete.

By this time I had found out that our final objective was the city of Athens and that we were to act as a meteorological station in preparation for the landing of troops by parachute and plane. This was why we had been provided with civilian clothes.

We left our hillside camp and started our travels once more. Two more stops and we were lodged in a house just a few miles from the city. One morning a few days later we were aroused by a couple of loud explosions close by; we were told that on evacuating the city the Germans had blown a bridge. There was great rejoicing in the household at the news of the Germans departure. To mark the event I let off a fusillade of shots into the air with my trusty Luger pistol with which I had been issued before I dropped into Albania. I had, fortunately, had no occasion to fire it in earnest for which I was grateful.

Now the final stage of our mission began. We were driven to the city and lodged in the house of a doctor in Academy Street where I was kissed on both cheeks by a very happy Hungarian (male). The lady of the house brought out all the goodies and we dined well for the first time in a couple of months. Next morning, happening to go out onto the balcony which overlooked the street, my uniform was recognised by passers-by who cheered and clapped. So I gave them a smile and a wave!

From the doctor’s house, I was sent to the Observatory which is close to the Acropolis. I was to be employed in the encoding and transmission of Meteorological reports and was lodged in a room of my own with a decent bed. Unfortunately, still somewhat afflicted with lice, I felt rather ashamed of such comforts. I dined with the Professor, Stavros Placides, and his German wife. They both spoke excellent English and we got on very well. The Professor explained that his main reflector mirror had been put in a safe place for the duration of the German occupation. He did have a small refractor telescope and I, ever interested in the stars, was able to get a very good view of Saturn.

Athens was then in a stage of civil war. It was communists the KKE against the Royalists. Slogans were daubed on walls and even on the street. Going around town was a risky business. The little trams were abandoned where they stopped; the electricity having been cut off. I, having now completed my meteorological schedule was returned to unit. There, for the first time in over a year, I met my elder brother, Ken, who, like me, was also a wireless operator and had been working in the Pelopenese.

We did the town together, I bought a camera with my issue of gold coins. One day, at the tomb of the Greek Unknown Warrior, we saw a rare sight — Greek soldiers in their ceremonial dress of short white pleated skirts and white long-johns, were doing a guard mounting ceremonial. Providing musical accompaniment was a pipe band of some twenty-odd Scots in their ceremonial dress. Altogether there were some fifty or so men. Not one of them sporting a pair of trousers!

Having seen the last of the Germans, the Greeks started to fight amongst themselves, probably with some of the arms and ammunition provided by we British. The Communists attacked the Royalists and the Royalists retaliated. Things became rather hectic and it was no longer safe to walk the streets. Finally, it was decided that we should be evacuated. We were flown out to Cairo, debriefed and then, after some time being idle, were put on the boat home.

Dedicated to the wireless operators of Special Operations Executive (SOE) without whom no mission could have succeeded.
They were the keymen.

By one of them:

Ex — 3969039 Cpl. Austin DeAth

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