大象传媒

I was stationed at the time on a Jungle airstrip, just outside Rangoon.I packed my bags and managed to hitch a ride, in a transport plane to Calcutta.Here I stayed a couple of days, trying to find a flight out.I managed to hitch another flight to Puna, on the South East Coast of India, which housed a massive Army Base.From there I landed in Karatchi, on a DC3 carrying wounded.I then caught a flight to Blighty but with a refueling stop in Tel Aviv.

Unfortunately,the British were in combat with the Palastinians, so we could get off the aircraft but not leave the airstrip.After reboarding, the aircraft flew over France, enroute to England, when the Port engine caught fire.The pilot decided to turn the aircraft into wind, to blow out the flames.He was confidant he would make it back home on one engine, the passengers weren't too sure and many a prayer, was said that night.

The plane landed safely, just after midnight in Oxford.My fellow passengers and I, some on stretchers,were looking forward to something to eat as we were starving, when we got off the aircraft.Unfortunately, everything was closed and all we were offered was a cup of tea, a blanket and a bed in a nissan hut.Next morning,I tucked in to a hearty breakfast and got travel passes, from the Orderly Officer.I caught a train to Birmingham and went in search of my family.I found my twelve year old sister Olive, looking after our crippled father, in a small terraced house,in Park Rd, Ashton Gate, Hockley (since demolished and Spaghetti Junction built over it)It was after midnight, so I slept on a makeshift bed, starving hungry again and dreamt of a hearty meal.
I also had other things on my mind, like catching a train up to Newcastle, to meet up with my fiance Norah and making plans for our wedding day.

Written with the permission and cooperation of Mr Ernie Tyler by Ged Fleming Cleveland CSV (Story Gatherer)

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