Deep Behind Enemy Lines, page 24
Jake nodded and pointed out the aircraft’s safety features: escape doors, emergency brace position, oxygen masks, life vests, etc.
‘You’ll also note the large quantity of freight which is for urgent dispatch to Singapore, strapped down in the fuselage behind you,’ he explained waving his hand to the rear of the plane ‘So, if there are no questions, fasten your seat belts and we’ll get going.’
They heard the first of the powerful Rolls Royce Dart engines fire up, followed by the other three in quick succession. The aircraft accelerated down the runway whilst Bill looked out of his porthole and watched all the buildings and scenery rush past. As the aircraft lifted off, the roar of the engines increased as did speed when the Argosy climbed into the cloudless sky to its cruising altitude of 20,000 feet. Here it levelled off and the engine roar tempered down to the significantly quieter drone of the turbines.
Jake unclipped his seat belt and addressed the passengers. ‘Now, a few things regarding the journey. Our distance to Singapore is around 5,500 miles with an expected flying time of thirteen hours, giving an estimated arrival at RAF Changi of 0900 hours tomorrow morning local time. Time zone changes are plus seven hours. The toilet is at the rear of the plane and your sleeping cots are fitted on the port side. This aircraft is designed to carry 69 troops, 54 paratroops, 48 stretcher cases or 29,000 pounds of freight (which could include Saracen/Ferret armored cars or artillery pieces such as the 105mm Howitzer).’
Quite a flying machine Bill thought! It wouldn’t be too long before they were all able to get their heads down for a well-deserved kip, especially after a hot meal. It was after all, a long flight.
In fact, the journey was to be much longer than he’d expected!
‘Are there any questions?’ asked Jake.
‘Just one, when do we get our first meal and drinks,’ Bill enquired.
‘I’ll bring you a few refreshments in about thirty minutes, and your first hot meal will be in approximately three hours. That’s when the flight crew will receive their first hot meal of the day. You’ll note the galley is just to the rear of the flight deck door.’
‘That’s just fine,’ replied Bill. He needed a leak and got up to make his way to the toilet at the rear of the aircraft. Looking around, he saw just how large the aircraft fuselage was.
On his way back to his seat, Bill decided to ask Jake if it was OK for him and his team to visit the flight deck and introduce themselves to the flight crew.
‘Yep, that’s no problem. I’ll take you along.’
‘OK guys let’s go and introduce ourselves,’ announced Bill.
On entering the confined space within the flight deck Bill could see the vast array of instruments and controls ranged across the forward navigation and flight meter panel of the aircraft.
‘Afternoon gents,’ he said, greeting the flight crew. ‘I’m Warrant Officer Scraggs, and these two gents are Sergeants Stevens and Newell. We’re with the Royal Signals on assignment to Borneo.’
The captain turned in his seat. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Flight Lieutenant Campbell, Captain of this bird, and this is Flight Lieutenant Jones, my First Officer, Lieutenant Francis my Navigator and, last but not least, Warrant Officer Purkis who’s the Fight Engineer.’
Bill and his team nodded their heads in acknowledgement.
‘Out of interest, how do all your instruments function?’ Bill asked ‘I’ve got more than a passing interest in learning to fly fixed wing aircraft. I’d be really interested in a brief run-down as the knowledge could stand me in good stead for future reference,’ he said.
The First Officer who Bill thanked gave brief instrumentation details to him.
After the short visit and Q and A on the flight deck Jake arrived with the welcome light refreshments, and Bill settled down with his novel, while Seth and Darren read their newspapers.
‘That should keep you both out of mischief ‘til dinner time,’ laughed Bill.
At 1730 hours local time Jake served three steaming meals; large portions of mouth-watering shepherd’s pie, assorted veg, bread roll, cheese and a cold sweet with a cup of tea to follow. Definitely OTT for the air force, and certainly more enticing than any civilian flight offered. ‘This looks good,’ enthused Bill. The other two were nodding and already tucking in.
Enjoy,’ said Jake as he returned to the galley to serve the flight crew and himself.
Once they’d finished eating Bill said, ‘I don’t know about you two but I’m going to get my head down for a few hours. I reckon we’ve about another seven hours ’til we land.’
‘Ditto that,’ said Seth.
‘I’m knackered as well,’ chimed in Darren.
All three men climbed into their cots and settled down for a few hours’ sleep. Jake lowered the lights in the fuselage and also settled in for some shut-eye.
Bill closed his eyes and his thoughts immediately turned to the time he’d spent with Mo, the beautiful woman who had so suddenly come into his life and captivated him. He now acknowledged without reservation that he was in love and, at this moment, missed her achingly. He still saw her sunny smile in his mind’s eye, and smiled in remembrance of their warm embraces, knowing instinctively this was the woman he wanted to marry and spend the rest of his life with. He promised himself once they reached Changi he would call and tell her how much he loved her and talk about when they might next get an opportunity to be together again. He’d also try and organise another bouquet of red roses to send her and write a letter. Bill drifted off to sleep cradled in the warm glow only someone deeply in love can experience.
Chapter 43
A violent explosion shook the aircraft an hour later.
‘What the hell was that!’ shouted Bill as the emergency lights came on.
‘I don’t know, but get back in your seats, strap in and assume the heads-down position,’ yelled Jake.
They all jumped from their cots and got back into their seats while Jake hurried towards the flight deck.
Bill and his team lifted their heads from the brace position and glanced out of the starboard portholes and saw bright flames appearing to be coming from the starboard wing.
‘Looks like we’ve a fire somewhere outside the aircraft,’ said Bill.
First Officer Jones’ voice came over the intercom. ‘Stay calm gents, we’re experiencing a medium category emergency. The number four starboard engine has caught fire and the captain is dealing with the situation.’
The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity, but when they raised their heads again they saw no more flames belching from the engine. The intercom came on again with an announcement.
‘This is your captain. As my first officer has informed you we have a medium category emergency to deal with. The upside is Warrant Officer Purkis has managed to remotely extinguish the fire using the built-in engine fire extinguishers. I’ve feathered and shut down the engine concerned and trimmed the aircraft, so we’re now flying on three engines. The cause of the incident was either a mechanical malfunction or we struck a migrating bird; sometimes seen flying at these heights. Nevertheless, we’re unable to continue our flight to Singapore until we resolve the problem. I’ve radioed Eastleigh and they’ve advised me to divert to RAF Gan Island in the Maldives, an estimated distance of 500 miles from our current position, where assistance should be available. I’ve also contacted Gan and they’re ready to receive us for an emergency landing. I’ll keep you informed of further progress.’ The captain switched off the intercom.
Jake re-entered the passenger cabin. ‘OK, gents, you can sit up now. You’ve heard the bad news from the captain, but remain strapped in and wait for further instructions from the flight deck. Any questions?’
‘Yes, what’s the estimated flying time to Gan Island?’
‘With reduced power and speed it’ll be between one and two hours.’
‘OK, thanks. Well, guys, that was our first bit of excitement and we haven’t even got into active service yet,’ he said, in an effort at humour to reduce the tension.
‘So, what do you think about our current situation, Sir,’ asked Seth Stevens, a little nervously.
‘Well, I guess we have to leave it to the experts, but two things are for sure; we’ve no parachutes on board and I don’t think they’d do us any good even if they were supplied and obviously, we won’t be getting into Singapore at 0900 hours tomorrow as planned.’
‘I wonder if RAF Gan has got a replacement engine for this aircraft, Sir?’ asked Darren Newell.
‘I certainly hope so. It’ll save a great deal of time,’ Bill said, holding up crossed fingers.
Their watches were still showing 2030 hours; Nairobi time. Eventually, the First Officer’s voice came over the intercom again. ‘Please ensure you still have your seat belts fastened ready for landing, which will be in approximately twenty minutes.’
It was quite dark outside the aircraft now, and Bill thought making a landing on an unfamiliar airfield, with only three functioning engines, could present quite a challenge even for a seasoned and highly experienced RAF pilot.
The engines reduced speed as the aircraft made its final approach to Gan Island runway with landing lights on and the captain announced, three minutes to touch down.
Amazingly, and under difficult circumstances including a strong cross wind from seaward causing a lot of buffeting and turbulence, the pilot landed the aircraft perfectly. With flaps down, he eased the three engines, thrusting them into reverse to slow the speed. Through his porthole Bill saw two fire engines and an ambulance waiting on standby.
The Argosy eventually came to a halt outside the terminal buildings where the captain shut down the three remaining engines; the aircrew and soldiers disembarked and went into the terminal building where the airfield commander, Squadron Leader Jackson, met them.
‘An excellent landing Flight Lieutenant Campbell, especially considering the problem you’ve had. I’ll get my aero engineers to examine the engine in the morning, and perhaps your flight engineer would like to join them,’ offered the CO.
‘Thank you, Sir,’ replied the flight captain. ‘OK with you Mr Purkis?’
‘Certainly, Sir. I want to know exactly what caused the problem and the remedial action we need to take,’ replied Purkis.
An hour later Geordie Purkis returned with an update on the engine.
‘So what’s the heads-up on our forward journey?’ enquired Bill.
‘Well, the bad news is the engine is shot and beyond economic repair here on the island. It would seem it struck a large bird that resulted in immeasurable damage, triggering the explosion and resulting fire. The good news is that the engineers think they can acquire a replacement from RAF Trincomalee the old Royal Naval base in Ceylon, where they carry a significant stock of aircraft spares including, we hope, a Rolls Royce engine.
‘How long is this all going to take?’
‘Assuming they have an engine in stock, it’ll take about an hour to fly it here and the engineers estimate between six to eight hours to fit it plus an hour for testing.’
‘That means the earliest we can anticipate departing is tomorrow morning,’ said Bill. ‘What’s the estimated flying time from here to Singapore?’
‘Five hours give or take. That would get us into Changi at around 0900 hours tomorrow,’ confirmed Geordie.
‘And it could be worse if no compatible engine is available,’ retorted Bill.
‘I’ll check current status with the captain shortly so we’ll all know where we stand.’
With time to kill, and having nothing better to do, Bill found a quiet spot in the lounge and wrote a long and loving letter to Mo. Not being a literary expert in the art of love letters, it took him well over an hour to get both his thoughts and words into order. He read it through several times hoping it conveyed the sincerity of his feelings for her. When he felt comfortable with what he’d written, he walked over to the admin office and dropped it into the outgoing mailbox then went in search of his team to chill out for the rest of the day. A little later Geordie returned to the mess.
‘Some good news for you guys. We’re advised that Ceylon has a spare compatible engine and it’ll be airfreighted to us within the hour. That puts us only a day behind schedule. Changi’s been advised.’
‘Well, hats off to the RAF,’ said Bill, which was echoed by his two subordinates. Two hours later they heard the air freighter landing with its precious cargo.
The three soldiers were woken in the small hours of Saturday morning and advised that the Argosy would be ready to take off in two hours; ETD 0330 hours.
After Bill, Seth and Darren had thanked the various RAF staff and mess personnel for their assistance and hospitality and said their goodbyes, they walked to the aircraft where Jake joined them. The tankers were already refuelling the bird as they climbed the steps into the cabin.
They could hear the turbines whining and Jake said, ‘OK gents, here we go again. Please be seated and fasten your seat belts ready for take-off. You know the drill, so I won’t bore you with a repeat performance.’
They sat waiting for more than ten minutes whilst the four Rolls Royce engines were sequentially fired up and run for sufficient time to confirm they were all operating to specification, closely monitored by Geordie. Then when satisfied, the first officer spoke over the intercom and announced, ‘three minutes to take-off.’
This second leg of the journey was, thankfully, uneventful and the RAF Argosy Turboprop made its final approach into Changi Airfield at 1030 hours local time on Sunday 12th January 1964.
‘Well guys, we’re almost at our journey’s end. I don’t know about you two, but with the time change I’m feeling pretty bushed,’ commented Bill.
‘I certainly second that, Sir. I’m really looking forward to a nice kip, preceded by a couple of welcome cool beers of course,’ replied Sergeant Stevens.
Darren Newell said, ‘If I’m not very much mistaken, it’s looking decidedly hot and humid down there.’
‘From what I’ve learned, it’ll probably be even more damp and steamy where we’ll ultimately be going. Just on a point of protocol, as we’ll be working very closely as a team and be by ourselves most of the time, I think we should drop the use of rank when together. Might as well follow the example of our SAS brothers. Of course, it doesn’t apply whilst in the presence of other military personnel when we’ll observe correct protocol and forms of address. So, I’m Skipper to both of you and I’ll use your first names. How does that sound?’
‘Highly recommended and civil, Skipper,’ they both nodded with grins.
Chapter 44
Royal Air Force Headquarters Changi, Singapore
The Argosy made a good landing at RAF Changi the former WW2 Japanese prisoner of war camp, touching down on the runway at exactly 1030 hours. It taxied to the appointed parking bay that was adjacent to the many other transport command aircraft. Parked nearby were two majestic Vickers VC10s that, as Jake explained, were early prototypes specially delivered ahead of fourteen aircraft ordered by the RAF for transport command, and purely for training and testing purposes. They wouldn’t be in full service with Number 10 Squadron for at least another twelve months.
There were also two magnificent Avro Vulcan strategic bombers, apparently earmarked for active service in Borneo. They were due to fly to the Royal Australian Air Force base at Butterworth on the northwest coast of Malaya to await active intervention and would be a formidable deterrent during any operation.
The captain shut down the engines and the three soldiers said their farewells to the aircrew. Bill said they hoped to catch up with Jake in the mess at some stage, to sink a few beers.
‘I’ll look forward to that,’ Jake called after them as the trio disembarked into the warm and humid Singapore environment. They climbed into a waiting LWB Land Rover for the ride to the nearby RAF Changi check-in and after collecting their bags and clearing customs they headed out to meet their civilian and military controllers. Bill spotted a Royal Signals captain who was dressed in tropical gear, and standing next to him was a civilian wearing a typical government suit and tie; recognisable even in this climate.
‘Good morning. Warrant Officer Scraggs, Sergeants Stevens and Newell, I presume,’ greeted the captain.
‘Good morning, Sir. I’m Warrant Officer Scraggs. This is Sergeant Stevens and this is Sergeant Newell,’ replied Bill introducing each man.
The captain was slightly under six feet tall, well-built and quite young; probably in his mid-to-late thirties. He had a shock of red hair, piercing blue eyes and a welcoming smile. Bill noted the parachute wings emblem at the top of his right jacket sleeve, indicating he had been parachute-trained, probably at the Parachute Brigade in the UK. In contrast, the civilian was quite short, overweight and clearly lacking the physical fitness of his rather lithe FO compatriot in Nairobi, Mr Travers. His hair was grey and wispy, he had a small grey Van Dyke beard and was wearing spectacles fronting watery brown eyes. He looked to be in his mid-to-late fifties. His whole demeanour was decidedly sombre.
‘Welcome to HQ Changi Garrison and 215 Squadron RAF. ‘I’m Captain Joseph Roberts, Royal Corps of Signals and OC of this Global Wireless Service Unit detachment. Sorry to hear about your aircraft ordeal but clearly it was rectified appropriately and not too much time was lost.
We cover Asia Pacific and are seconded to the GWS of Her Majesty’s Foreign Office. My companion here is Mr Brian Reeves, Senior Member of the Global Security Department of the Foreign Office.
‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ Brian Reeves interjected, and all three men nodded to the OC and Reeves.
‘Mr Reeves is responsible for intelligence missions in this part of Asia Pacific. Let’s adjourn to the Conference Room and we’ll go over some initial information. Then I’ll get one of my staff to take you to your accommodation in the mess which we share with 215 Squadron.’ The OC led the way and the others dutifully followed in his wake.
