大象传媒

Extract from Cliff Gascoigne's RAF memoirs, 'The Life of an Erk.'

Now began a very bad time for the squadron. We were put on sea sweeps which did not go down very well, especially with the ground crew. Morale got very low, the number of serviceable aircraft was low, and no one was very happy as we did not seem to be doing anything. Instead of aircraft going out six or more at a time and dropping their bombs, they were going out one at a time. Apparently Headquarters Middle East (HQME) began to realise something was wrong and we got a new adjutant. Not long after he arrived, I was at a meeting when he asked what was wrong with the squadron. We all informed him that the aircrew we had had before we went on sea sweeps were friendly and tended to 鈥渕uck in鈥� with the ground crews. Now hardly any of the aircrew spoke to the ground crew whereas the previous crews came into the canteen and had a drink with us. After that things changed. The next night the adjutant came into the canteen with another officer and had a few beers, then other officers and NCO aircrew started coming into the canteen and we got to know each other. Hence we soon had a good squadron again.

One night the CO himself came in and there was a deathly hush as he walked up to the bar. Everybody wondered what was going to happen as we had aircrew Officers and aircrew NCOs in the canteen together. He got himself a bottle of beer and walked over to the table occupied by the ground crew who were responsible for servicing the aircraft he usually flew. He sat with them to drink his beer and there was a very big sigh of relief! The lads made sure his beer was well topped up and he became slightly inebriated, to such an extent that he finished up standing on his seat giving a very fine rendition of 鈥淭hree Old Ladies Locked in the Lavatory!鈥�

At night the dress was slacks and long sleeved shirt. We had neither but were not going to miss a night out, so off we went to Cairo in shorts and short-sleeved shirts. We were standing outside a bar when two RAF police arrived with two military police (redcaps) a few yards behind. When the two RAF police got to us the redcaps stopped a couple of yards away but within hearing distance. The RAF police were very white faced and had obviously only just arrived in Egypt. 鈥淲hy are you in shorts and short sleeved shirts when you should be wearing slacks and longed sleeved shirts?鈥� they asked.
鈥淏ecause we haven鈥檛 got anything else with us as we are down from the desert on duty and did not expect to stay overnight.鈥�
鈥淪tand to attention when you speak to a corporal鈥� said one of them.
By now I was getting a little bit fed up with this so I pointed to my sleeve and asked him what he thought the two small ink marks were. We were then asked for our address and I told him 55 Squadron, Middle East Forces. 鈥淲hereabouts in the Middle East?鈥�
鈥淒esert,鈥� I said.
鈥淵ou must have a place,鈥� they said.
This went on for a few minutes until I threatened to get the redcaps over and have them arrested. They put in a charge, and the adjutant sent for me to see what it was all about. When I told him, he said, 鈥淔orget it! I shall send them a letter telling them to get themselves sorted out.鈥� That was the last I heard of it.

At this time we went back to the railhead at Fuka. One moonless night the Germans came bombing in the dark. It seemed there was a piece of land that stuck out into the sea called Fuka Point by the aircrew. Once they found that and followed the phosphorescent glow of the waves breaking, they knew when to let there bombs go by counting. Their accuracy was pretty good because there was an ammunition train standing in the station and it got a direct hit in the middle of the carriages. People appeared from nowhere and unhitched the other carriages back and front of those that were burning and then proceeded to push the front and rear parts away. The next day when they were clearing up they pulled someone out of the underground water tank - he had got in there for safety.

Another night the Germans decided to bomb us again. The motor transport corporal manned a machine gun ready to have a 鈥渟hoot鈥� when the aircraft came round his way. It was only flying at about 50 feet up so the corporal began to have visions of being the first person on the squadron to shoot down an enemy aircraft. He was probably wondering how many free beers he could get out of telling his story. The aircraft came around and was only about 30 to 40 yards away from him. 鈥淚 have got him now,鈥� he thinks as he squeezed the trigger and keyed himself up for the bang and the kick of the gun on his shoulder. Nothing happened, the gun had jammed. So no beer that time, but he got his leg pulled afterwards about the one that got away!

We had some cables which were attached to rockets and when a low flying aircraft came over, the operator, who was in a sand bagged enclosure, was to fire the rockets in the hope of tangling up the aircraft鈥檚 propeller and making it crash. After the bombing the sandbags had collapsed and there was no operator to be seen. Fearing the worst people started to shift the sandbags to find him, when a voice from about two yards away said 鈥淎re you looking for me?鈥� He had got out of his sandbagged enclosure just in time, but unfortunately he had just missed the aircraft with the cables.

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