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Escapers Escapade Part Three

We sailed that night to Kythira Island to a small harbour on the eastern side of the island. We stayed on shore and slept wherever we could find a bit of shelter - the weather was now quite warm. There was a small village bistro selling coffee or wine. I believe it to be Aviemonas, at that time a very small village on the east side of Kythira. That day it was discovered that a large party of British, mainly R.A.F., were assembled at the small port of Kythira on the south west side of the island. We all piled into the boat in the afternoon to sail round to join this larger party.

A very stiff wind and tremendous waves tossed our small craft about like a cork. My position on the stern was quite precarious. A very senior Greek army officer and his daughter had reached Kythira Island and had asked that they be allowed to travel with us. Somehow I overheard this being discussed and agreed. The poor girl was very ill and sea sick as well. At first she was sitting near my feet on the keel of the boat; they took her into the small cabin for shelter. We all felt sorry for her.

The sea was so rough that the "captain" decided he could not go on. The process of going about to return to the small harbour almost capsized the boat. At one time I did prepare to swim. I still had my overcoat and backpack, and I still had some beans and some bully that I did not want to lose.

Food was now getting hard to come by. The people of 112 Sqdn. and those of 80 Sqdn. had some food. They gave me some whenever they had a share out.

Most airmen seemed to have sensed the necessity to start away from their point of departure with a private store. When I had been on my own I had scrounged tins of beans and "bully". At the time I left Athens I had half a loaf of bread, very stale. We did, however, get back to the little harbour and nobody was sorry to get off. I never knew what happened to the Greek Colonel and his daughter. The local Greek people, like all ordinary Greek people, were very, very poor. There was a sort of bistro where they gathered to which we went for coffee, black, in very small
cups.

I have often thought of those people who were so friendly but unable to help or offer food or supplies of any sort. Our objective was to get over to the port of Kythira on the west coast. The Adjutant of 112 Sqdn. was desperately hanging on to the Squadron documents, a Lewis gun and some ammunition for the Lewis gun.

That afternoon he must have done a lot of talking, and communication with Kythira was made. We were to gather together and be prepared to climb over the "mountain" when darkness came. At dusk an old lady and her husband appeared with two donkeys. To the donkeys backs were tied 112 Squadron documents in a large tin trunk, the Lewis gun and ammunition. Poor little donkeys with that big load, they looked very sad.

We set off with the old lady and the old man leading the donkeys. I took a place very near the donkeys and followed. It all happened so quietly that before we knew where we were we were grappling up a mountain path in the dark. There was no turning back, the path was just wide enough for a man let alone a donkey with a pack. The elderly couple pressed on. They had no doubt climbed this path before.

I remember being so frightened. I was wearing my greatcoat and I was very hot. The cold air and hot sweat didn't mix very well. I can't remember how high or how long we climbed but eventually we found ourselves on a level bit of mountain track. We were told to wait.

Before dawn came a very quaint rickety old bus and a car appeared. I've no idea who had arranged this but I didn't ask questions. The car and bus were loaded; I was one of the first load. Only about eight men could get on the bus. This ancient
little bus had wooden seats, wooden sides and the road was indescribable. We looked at one another in the dim light of a starlit early morn. I was glad it was still dark. As the bus rocked and rolled we just sweated it out. The bus arrived at Kythira at dawn. We were glad to get out, both glad and grateful to the Greek driver who also could not have slept that night.

Some of us went into a store house on the quay side and slept. Not for long. There was a Squadron Ldr. "Padre", name unknown to me. I remember there were two "padres", both Sqdn/Ldrs. One of them said "We could clear the straw out of the hold of "that thing' and all clear off to Crete". "That thing" was a small coaster lying in the bay near the lighthouse. Being my own C/0 again and with no one to consult I said I would come and help. Nothing was done. From that morning the "Luftwaffe" came about every hour, Heinkel, Dornier, Messerschmitt 110 and then
Stuka -JU87's. One placed a small bomb in the aft superstructure which started a fire. The crew abandoned the ship and we watched it burn. Because of this raid and the knowledge that we had been seen we all hid in the olive groves on the sloping land that ran up to a cliff. After the Dorniers, 110s and Heinkels, then came the Stukas. The JU87's meant that Argos must now be occupied by the German Air Force and they would be here very soon.

Running from the harbour up the hill towards the cliffs was a deep gully. I went with about ten others up to a cave in the cliff face at the end of the gully. High up, we could see all around. It was safer than in the olive groves.

The Luftwaffe pilots all knew that the British hid under the trees. There is nothing like a burst of cannon fire to disturb hiders. The rule was to stay still. Across the cave mouth we built a wall of boulders - it must be still there - and I remember during a bombing raid an incident I have never forgotten. Cringing behind a stone was a "Palestinian" airman watching a raid on the quay side.

I had a good view from the cave but during any air raid to avoid being seen we were forced to stay still. If seen moving the Luftwaffe would give us a "squirt" of cannon shells we didn't want.

A bomb splinter came up the gully and hit the cliff above the cave. The "Palestinian" took out his wallet and looked at a picture of the Virgin and Child. He was one of the refugees from Russia or Poland no doubt, and very devout. He appeared comforted and looked at me as if his hope was restored. That few seconds made me think about mankind and his desperate but fruitless search for an "Anchorage". That "Palestinian" was comforted, so be it. I suppose then I was too cynical, arrogant or ignorant to comment or sympathise.

By this time, waiting for or enduring an air raid was almost the general way of life. There was always a sound of some explosion somewhere, or cannon fire not far off. One thing about the Luftwaffe, they did share their "gifts" out fairly. Nobody wanted their "gifts" which were usually light bombs, cannon fire or machine gun fire. There had been no R.A.F. air defence at all for over a week. There were no aircraft. It was as simple as that.

The fire on the ship grew out of control so we watched it burn. I can never understand why the Stukas kept coming back to bomb it. It was obviously a "write off" but they kept coming. The next day another ship sailing round by the lighthouse was caught by a Heinkel or a DO 17. I watched the bombs leave the aircraft and enter the ship's superstructure. A tremendous explosion followed. All the centre of the ship blew up into the air. The bow came out of the water and then sank. It all happened in about three minutes. After watching this nobody spoke for a while.

I wanted nothing to do with ships if that's what could happen. On the third day the coaster gave up the ghost and sank. It had burned and banged for three days. Our hopes of getting away were very low.

There had been a tug boat moored in the harbour. The Luftwaffe had tried to sink it We counted fifty four bombs dropped around it, not one hit. The anchor chain had broken and the boat drifted to the rocky beach across the bay.

Food was getting short and we were asked to pool our personal hoards. Some people had nothing, others had hoards of tins. Those who had arrived on Kythira by the now sunken ship had come from Kalamata and wisely carried as much food as possible. I felt very "holy" when I handed in my last two tins of beans. Without shame I do confess now that I kept one tin of "bully" and a small tin of condensed milk that I had carried since leaving Athens - a thousand years ago.

On the third or fourth day at Kythira we were told our chances of getting away were very slim and to destroy any information of diaries we may have possessed. I had kept a diary since leaving England and now regretfully, I destroyed it by tearing it up and pushing it down into the cracked soil of the olive grove. I since realised I was probably the only person to do so.

A Walrus amphibian aircraft had flown over one of the days but nothing came of it. That crew had guts because the sky was full of enemy aircraft at that time. It was being said that the Germans would send them back to get a decent aircraft before battle could commence. The Walrus crew were probably looking for us.

I think there was a bit of despondency setting in amongst some people. An elderly officer was sleeping near me. He said he was cold so I gave him the red blanket that the Greek soldier in Piraeus had given me. I must say that I did not give up hope; I knew deep down that "this too shall pass". However, it had better happen quickly, I thought. The best of being young and not too well educated was that although a lot of very hectic and serious things happened around me I don't think my fear stayed with me. During attacks I "twittered" like everybody else but when it was over I didn't remain worried. I seem to have let it all flow over me. In later life I realise that it must have been "quite an adventure". The days were passed so "busily" and the nights were so welcome that we slept the sleep of babes once we could get to sleep.

The day we realised that we may not get away was in fact the last day. About two in the morning a "black" ship silently appeared in the bay. We were awakened quietly and told to get down by the quay. All the villagers were asleep. I was concerned about the people up in the cave which I had left the day before. I could not climb up to get them.

Later on I met a man who had been in the cave with me, they had all left the cave to come down on that day. I was glad I did not go back, I might have been left behind again.

The ship was H.M.S. "Auckland", a New Zealand class sloop with 6’’ guns.

The necessity for quiet and secrecy of movement was now apparent to everybody. A "fifth columnist" would have somehow sent information through to "Gerry" that we were getting away. I did hear that the Germans moved in the day after we left.

We got aboard the large whaler type boat that came to fetch us from the beach. There were two or three in use - it was starlight and no moon thank goodness. I heaved myself up the rope ladder where, at the top, a large Chief P/0 said "Come on you lads hurry up". We hurried. I've seen films since then of people climbing ladders or nets up the ship's side. I now know how they felt.

I was accommodated in the C/PO's mess which was about twelve feet by ten feet in size. I huddled on the floor to sleep but I was immediately given some navy cocoa and a "bully" sandwich - that was the first real hot drink of anything I had tasted since leaving Athens, other than Greek coffee or water. Some of us were given jobs or told what to do when the bell for action stations sounded. I was told my place was to stand by a short flight of steps up to the deck.

On the way to Crete a Blenhiem appeared in the blue morning sky. It showed no colours of the day. The Auckland opened fire with an anti aircraft gun. Out came the very lights of the recognition colours of the day. Fire ceased. "We don't trust any bloody aeroplanes any more" said a sailor when I asked why. Come to that neither did I. I am now one of those with immense respect for sailors of the Royal Navy. When at sea and under attack from the air there is nowhere to go. When "action stations" bells sounded I noticed the lack of panic, but the speed and efficiency was of the highest order.

I had not seen a single soul who belonged to my unit since I had gone from Athens up to Lamia with Sgt. Wallis. The Auckland took us to Suda Bay, Crete, where we boarded the "Itria", a British India ship that was coal fired.

The Germans were using the airfields of south Greece by now to hammer at anything afloat. Suda Bay harbour was a prime target and I was pleased to know that "Itria" was not staying long. A constant air raid alert existed.

Out at sea "Itria" joined a naval squadron of some strength, The "Ramilles" and "Barnaul", "The Courageous" aircraft carrier and various destroyers and cruisers. On the "Itria" I found a nice quiet place on a heap of coal on the open deck and I had a good sleep. The "Itria" could only manage twelve knots. There was a stove set up on deck full of hot McConakies meat and veg stew. Anyone just got a mug full if he needed it.

No troops were to sleep on deck so when I awoke I moved to a hold towards the front of the ship. There were about three hundred men in the hold with one ladder up to the deck.

I went down this vertical ladder into the hold where I was happy to meet some men of my own unit - 54 R.S.U. They had left Hassani and gone to Kalamata and thence to Crete. Lofty Collins, Ken Hawke, Lofty Maybour, Borely, Arthur Mee, Organ, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all. Two of the 54 R.S.U. detachment had received bomb splinter wounds. Don Robinson had a shrapnel wound on his back, Luxton had his calf sliced off by a bomb splinter.

A check was made of who was on the ship, number, rank, unit, and the sun shone bring on high. That night we found out how sound carries at sea. A series of crashes occurred on the ship's side. The heavy battle cruisers with their sixteen inch guns were carrying out a bombardment. We later found out that the big ships had bombarded a target on Rhodes Island.

All troops are below decks when there is any action unless they have been given a specific job or action station. It is not very "happy making" to be below deck in a hold whilst there is "something doing" aloft .

The gun fire went on for a while then stopped as suddenly as it started and I thought the German Air Force would make us pay tomorrow. Nothing happened. We sailed to Alexandria. We then returned to Aboukir.

At Aboukir we rejoined our unit, where we were rekitted, then paid two weeks pay and sent on leave.

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