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RAF
159 SQUADRON
& DAD'S WAR |
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My father, Thomas Fraser, LAC 1076099, born Inverness 25 January 1906, died Aberdeen 27 July 1980, served in many places in WWII but it seems the most important was in RAF 159 Squadron, in the Far East. I have his diaries for the period but as he's written all his Far East service, from embarkation to disembarkation, they can be almost impossible to follow, in places. It's been difficult getting information on this period but I had some help from Robert Quirk, who has researched the Squadron and he also put me in touch with Jimmy (Bernard) Greenstein, who worked as an electrician on the same Liberator, Xtasy, as my father, who was an airframe mechanic. Jimmy supplied me with first hand knowledge. With my own research and details from Robert and Jimmy, I now have enough information to put up this page to show, in a limited way, 159 Squadron and my father's war. This page is dedicated to 159 Squadron. The picture top right is of my father, left, a friend and the Liberator Mark VI, KH 170, christened Xtasy, with the nose modified and its front gun turret removed.
History of 159
The Squadron briefly came into life for a month in the early summer of 1918 and was reformed at Molesworth in England on Jan. 2, 1942. It's ground crew left for the Middle East on 12 February 1942 and then moved onto India on the 10 May 1942. At the start of the war there was little RAF presence in Ceylon, where 159's sister Squadron 160 became based, a fellow Fraser's family had tea plantations for many years there and a relation told her "the RAF had a very small detachment called The China Bay Station, at Trincomalee and the Wing Commander was W/C Crow. It was a reconnaissance squadron she remembered. She said that 'people' came from Sumatra in March 1942 to Ceylon and told the RAF Trincomalee that they must get all their civvies out of Ceylon within 3 days because they would fight better without worrying about their families there, then the Japanese started flying their reconnaissance planes over Ceylon."
The aircraft, all Liberators, arrived in Palestine in July 1942 and undertook raids on North Africa, Italy and Greece, before flying on to India late September 1942 and began operations against the Japanese on 17 November. It was the first heavy bomber unit in India, flying Liberators II, III, V, VI & VII and the rest of the war was spent on bombing, mining, and reconnaissance operations over Burma, Siam, Malaya, Indo-China and the Dutch East Indies, operating in SEAC, South East Asia Command, for most of the war.. (I've chosen to use the names of the countries in use then, as these are how the men of 159 knew them). After the war ended they transferred to transport and survey duties and Squadron 159 was disbanded on 1 June 1946.
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Squadron's Motto: Quo non, quando non (Whether not, when not).
Squadron's Badge: In front of logs enflamed a peacock's head holds a woodman's axe. The peacock's head commemorates its association with Burma, the axe its pathfinder activities in blazing the trail.
Special Flight C
According to my father's diaries, he sailed from Liverpool on Wednesday 15 November 1943 and got received his first supply of cigarettes, from my mother Ruth, at 159 Squadron on 14 December 1943, 200 Players. However, his diaries don't have him disembarking till 9 am Monday 20 December, where he mentions "Gharries to Worli" and "Religious Cow in cart", a Gharry is an Indian horse-drawn carriage or a truck and Worli was the RAF transit camp at Bombay but whether dad's referring to the cow only or also, to the troops being moved by cart, we'll never know. His personnel records bear out his arrival, having him "Disemb Bombay 20/12/43." Thomas was a meticulous record keeper, so I can only presume the 14th December was the date the cigarettes arrive at 159, however, what does amaze me, in these present days of anti-smoking and bans, is just how much of the war effort was spent moving fags around, dad alone recorded receiving twenty deliveries and sent thirteen back to the UK and these don't include the numerous food parcels he sent home.
His RAF records show he was at BRD Worli A, which favours the transportation there in a Gharry theory, H9 Unit 4/1/44 and his diary shows him leaving Bombay on 6/1/44 but he doesn't get to 159 Squadron till 9/8/44, yet all his cigarette deliveries are with 159. He arrives at 160 Squadron 9 January 1944, in his records but arrives at the transit camp in Colombo on the 10th, according to the diary, after travelling for five days, including a two hour ferry trip. He didn't leave for the 160 base at Sigiriya till the 24th January, reached Kekirawa, in central Ceylon, the next day, his diaries state "Kekirawa 5 am Cold, Gharry", he started on "Flight" on the 27th January. I know from a friend who was in 160, a Leslie Wallis, that 159 and 160 were sister Squadrons and early in the war were absorbed into 159 before being reformed but this is where Robert Quirk's research comes in, dad was part of a secret operation, a Special Flight known as "C" Flight 159 & 160 Squadron and according to his diary he joined it on 6th February 1944. Sigiriya google map
In a link to the "Special Flight" from his 159 Squadron page, Robert tells us that, ground crew may not even have been told of their transfer from 160 to 159 but in my father's case, his cigarette deliveries show at least he did. Robert has done a lot of research on 159 and "C" Flight and it would be an injustice for me to try and copy the overview he's created of what happened, he has many links and stories from individuals concerned and I recommend you look through the site. Basically, "C" Flight, undertook the role of detecting the Japanese Radar and Radio signals, a dangerous job for the aircrew but conditions on the ground were far from perfect either. However, what he's most worthy of congratulation for, is his tenacity in spending four days, at the National Archives in Kew, extracting and putting together the record of the "Special Flight", it's a 93 page document in PDF format, again fascinating reading but if you're not on Broadband, it's a long download. In fact, one of the co-pilots of 159, Eric Cocks, went to Kew in the 1970s and was told these records didn't exist.
 Dad, Thomas Fraser, with Pineapple, a rare treat |
 Jim Taylor rear, Peter Midgely, Dad & Paddy Cranston, front |
 Dad & Jim Taylor, believed to be taken in Kandy |
Although not on record, my father left for Kandy on the 8th April 1944, his diary mentions seeing a procession and twice mentions GEMS, I can only assume he was after some. He has some photos taken, with a Pineapple and with friends and on the 11th he moved to the Uva Club, for a few days, where he visited the 159 billets and played billiards and tennis. Jimmy Bernstein, from Flight C told me, "I spent my 21st birthday at the Uva club in Oct. 43 and remember it well. The Uva valley is situated in a most beautiful part of Ceylon, high in the hills and is the tea plantations area. The Uva club was very much like a select hotel and used exclusively by the plantation owners who during the war opened its doors to servicemen as a place to go on leave and they made us very welcome." Back to the Ceylon Fraser's relation, "She said it was a big Tea Estate in the Highlands and that most of the Tea Estate areas had their Planters' clubs and that she had been part of an amateur theatrical group and they travelled round the clubs providing entertainment for the members. She does not remember the Uva being particularly different than the other clubs though but she remembered going there," they were indeed obviously very luxurious 'outposts' in their day and had amazing cricket pitches, lounges, bars etc. etc. Just like old Country Clubs of 'yesteryear'. Dad's diaries are vague but he seems to be recalled on the 21 April 1944 but he had managed to acquire a ruby. He returned to the ancient city of Kandy, high in the mountains 72 miles from Colombo, on 28th April. There's an entry on the 1 May, that seems to say, left Sigiriya 8 hours road to Colombo, midday T. C. train, 2nd May Danuskidi: tea etc, Talimannar, Ceylon, then on the 4th May just a simple "Left". In Robert Quirk's history, the 1st May is the day Special Flight C moved to Salbani, in North Eastern India which was too small and 4th May 1944, when they arrived, a little further North, at Digri in Bengal, their base for the next year, so this does seem to tie in.
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The diaries are then silent and only mention the possibility of "A Hill Party" and the fall of Rome and D Day, with the hope it'll be over by September. Dad's official records show him between 160 and 159 Squadrons at Admin BMH, Chakrata, in Northern India, 24 June 1944 and Disci BMH, Chakrata 12-17 July 1944, then an undated spell with 353 Squadron, which used Hudsons and Dakotas on mail runs (maybe he was checking his cigarettes were safe) and arriving 159, 9 August 1944. However, it looks like he could have been in Digri since May, as he eventually joined "Wing Hill Party" on 16th June, after much preparation and left the Chandrakona Road, with mention of engine tea and showers, it looks like he was on a 5 day long train Journey. Chandrakona Road was the rail junction for the base. He mentions Vishnapur, Dehri-on-Sone, Lucknow, Moradabad and arrives at Dehradun, in the foothills of the Himalayas on the 20 June, so he'd made a momentous journey from East to West in North East India. He then climbed 60 miles and ascended from 2,000 to 8,000 feet, arriving in Chakrata, which ties in with his official records. However, this incredible journey was too much for him and his diaries show him on the 24 June, "Sick Quarters. 9 am. Fixed Kit. Gharry 2 pm for Hospital. Dysentery Ward.", they then go on to show him recuperating and on the 12 July "Clearance from Hospital. Recommended 10 days at Con.", this I assume to be convalescence, as he describes, in depth, for a change, what he was up to and there was a lot of shopping, Tiffin, meeting friends, check ups, bacon and eggs and football. On the 22 July he "Finished clearance chit". He also mentions visiting Sandes, where he'd friends Bremner and Kincaple, I can only assume this is the soldiers' Christian Mission, it's interesting he'd visit such a place and shows how war changes perspectives and needs, as dad was an atheist and a communist. Then on the 23rd of July he's off again.
I can only assume he flew the first leg, as he mentions the heights of a couple of mountains, then being on the train at Hardwar, one of the seven holy Hindu places, then the next day it's Moghalsarai and Benares, he was heading back East and as on the trip out, the WVS seem active in supplying the troops with Tiffin. He seemed to have taken a different route back, although still on the train and went through Asonsol, Bandel and Howrah, for in five days, on the 27th July, after another incredible journey, he was back at the Chandrakona Road and in his old billet but again, the journey seemed to have taken a lot out of him. For the next while, as all the excitement had settled down, he is in the "usual routine" of working, letter writing, canteen, collecting dhobi, sending and receiving parcels, as he makes the best of Digri.
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RAF Digri: although my father says little about the conditions at the camp, it doesn't seem a very welcoming place, his colleague from Special Flight C, Jimmy (Bernard) Greenstein told me "Digri is situated in Bengal, about ninety miles N.W of Calcutta. It was a very small village and would not be on any map but the area being very flat was ideal for an airfield, we had the barest of amenities and lived in huts as primitive as is possible to imagine. The nearest township that you could call worth visiting to take a break was Kharagpur a railway township about 20/30 miles away. As transport, such as buses didn't exist it was not easy to get there BUT running on the edge of the airfield was the railway which went to Kharagpur, so we simply waved the train to stop which it always did and the driver would stop the train for us on the way back. I might also mention that the climate in Bengal was horrendous, terribly hot and humid." Warrant Officer (Navigator) Len Upjohn (see bottom of linked page) has also told me about the airbase, "I arrived at Worli, which was the RAF transit camp at Bombay, July 1944 a Sgt Navigator in a New Zealand crew fresh out of OTU in the UK. A few weeks later we were posted to Kolar Gold Fields HCU to fly Liberators. I joined a UK crew there, all NCO's, after converting from Wellingtons to Libs we were posted to 159 Squadron Digri in the middle of October and almost immediately started on 'ops'. Digri, I remember well, it was work, work, work, for everybody, not a day off from start to finish. The enduring memory is the toilet facilities, a bush 30 or 40 yards away for a leak, the daily one was a Basha, with a 12 or 15 foot diameter circle of concrete, 15 inches high with 10 inch diameter holes each 2 feet apart around the circumference. Not a place to loiter in. Each Basha had a bearer who swept it out tidied the bed clothes and Mosquito nets and stayed to look after the place and keep the oil drum 'shower' filled with water as required. This cost each Basha occupant about one or two Rupees a week and you could also pay for a dhobi wallah to do the washing, or 'dhobi'. I was in 'B' Flight, bombing and mine laying, 'C' Flight spent their time locating Japanese radar sites all over Burma, Siam and Malaya so that we could avoid them on our raids. Ground crews had a terrible time, my average 'op' time was 14 hours and I would say the only relaxed time they had, was when we were away on an 'op'. It is difficult to understand the living conditions, for both civilians and service personnel are almost beyond present day comprehension, the women were building the aerodrome, carrying baskets of stones on their heads, stopping to have their babies and half an hour later with the baby on their breast, carrying another basket of stones. We would drive past on the back of a gharry (truck) to our planes going to bomb Japanese troops or trains in Burma." Dad was offered a bearer, on the 10th June there's a diary entry "Day off Sunbathed. Do you want a bearer?!!!" Les Wallis, from 160 Squadron, told me "mainly the Basha was made of cut reeds and importantly, didn't let the rain in but there was no windows and only a door." Also read the fascinating interview by Matt Poole with Flight Lieutenant Robert W Ustick, who talks about the conditions, the class system and the great beer heist at Digri.
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Maps
showing RAF Digri and Salbani. Click to enlarge
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Because of his political convictions, dad always said he was offered promotion but refused it, to stay with the lads and from the end of July through to mid November, he was just getting on with life, no mention of what he did, apart from ALC, which I take to mean a minor promotion and moves to new billets. He spent his non working time writing and receiving letters from home and his previous RAF mates, picking up the latest war news in the canteen, sorting his laundry, reading, watching the odd film, getting his cigarettes, starting a correspondence course and contemplating his shaving kit. On 22 September his highlight was getting an electric light in his billet and a half-day off, then he moved again and despite the heat, the billets had no fans but they did have leaky roofs, he was forever getting minor ailments, probably due to the heat and conditions
It's now over a year since he disembarked, he's had two Christmases in the Far East, written over 100 letters to his wife, received his fags, drunk the odd beer, whisky and gin, got a new job, doesn't say what, won front row tickets in a lottery for "The Gang Show" and received his first letter from his growing son Colin. It's Hogmanay 1944, soon to be a new year, one with hope and he's off to the Sergeant's Mess with Sergeant Morrison, obviously another Scot..
I now get busy for the summer, so unfortunately, the finishing of this story wii have to wait till the Autumn.
DAD'S STORIES
A MEDITERRANEAN CRUISE
On a damp dreary day in November 1943, a troopship left the dockside at Liverpool, bound for an unknown destination. The 'Ocean of the Pacific' had aboard sailors, soldiers, airmen, wrens, nurses and a few civilians. All the theatre of war had been mentioned as probable destinations during the two days we lay at the dockside. Some of the boys suggested Canada, even though we had tropical kit and pith helmets. As the troopship steamed into the Irish Sea, she was joined by other ships and they proceeded northwards to the Clyde, where all other ships met them to form a convoy. Then they continued in a northerly direction until they passed Ireland, when they headed west into the Atlantic.
For nine days the convoy ploughed the Atlantic, guarded by a cruiser and several destroyers. Then on the tenth day, just off the Straits of Gibraltar, a submarine surfaced, drew nearer to the convoy and then sailed along with it. When dusk was falling bright lights from Spanish Morocco were sighed. The Spanish were neutral, so hadn't a black-out. About ten o'clock that night we passed the Rock of Gibraltar, where dozens of Spanish fishing vessels and small boats sailed in and out through the convoy, and had every opportunity of finding out useful information for the enemy. The next morning four coal-burning ships joined the convoy from Oran, and about 5 pm the first land was sighted since passing Northern Ireland.
About 4 pm the following day, everything was just as usual on board the 'Ocean of the Pacific', with troops walking the decks, others sitting reading, while others just leaned over the ship's rails watching the other ships in the convoy. At the stern, near the six inch gun, one the ship's crew was acting as barber, and, at sixpence a time, he was doing a brisk trade. On an upturned box which was the barber's chair, an RAF corporal was sitting, the barber had just started cutting his hair. Then suddenly the barber dashed towards the number six gun, the corporal speedily vacated the chair, and everyone was rushing to the starboard side and looking up to the sky. Several thousand feet above were planes flying in formation, while higher still were the vapour trails of other planes and they were all heading towards the convoy. Immediately, it seemed all the gun crews were at their posts, the barber included, and the guns were pointing skywards. Then as if by pre-arranged signal the convoy's anti-aircraft guns opened fire. The cruiser which had been at the front of the convoy, turned and raced to the rear, her guns blazing as she ploughed through the water with the spray rising in front of her bow. Just as she was passed the 'Queen of the Pacific' a large object seemed to graze her port side, then a huge spout of water rose into the air. The cruiser shuddered, then seemed to rise out of the water, but she kept racing to the rear of the convoy, with her guns still firing. There was so much to see, we didn't know where to look first. The planes which had been making the vapour trails above the Luftwaffe were RAF and USAF fighters.
They were now in combat with the German bombers and their escort of fighters. A bomber fell in flames at the rear of the convoy, while another one was coming down with smoke pouring from its tail. An RAF fighter tore through the air, nose downwards, struck the water and disappeared completely. It was soon followed by another fighter whose markings we couldn't distinguish. Other fighters were climbing steeply, then diving upon the Luftwaffe, machine guns firing as they came within range. Waterspouts appear all around the convoy as bombers struck the water and exploded. Some were too near to be comfortable, but all the ships seemed to have escaped, as they kept changing their course. The fight was raging fast and furious, with more bombers showing signs of distress, and the anti-aircraft guns putting up a heavy barrage. The submarine was still on the surface adding her quota of fire. A lone bomber was making for the coast with a fighter hot on its trail. One of the ships had joined us from Oran, and was carrying American troops, was having a rough time with bombers falling around it. Then what seemed like a fighter was diving towards it and, altering its course slightly, it proceeded downwards. It crashed on the deck causing a terrific explosion, with flames shooting skywards. It was one of Germany's radio controlled bombs.
The Luftwaffe were eventually dispersed and we proceeded on our way as dusk was falling. Astern was the troopship which had received a direct hit and it was blazing furiously, with the cruiser standing by. Then the guns went into action again. A lone reconnaissance plane was over, counting the damage. A few hours later we heard the BBC news announcer say, 'A British convoy was attacked in the Mediterranean by thirty two German bombers; 9 were shot down.' For the next two days the convoy continued on its way unmolested, apart from the dropping of depth charges at a supposed submarines. At teatime, we were nearing Crete, the Luftwaffe attacked again. We were not allowed on deck, but the Captain gave us a running commentary from the ship's bridge over the l loudspeakers, as we sat at our mess tables. He said, "We are being attacked by fifteen bombers who are approaching the leading ships in the convoy. They are now diving towards us! The anti-aircraft guns are now firing. They have broken up the formation, but two or three have got through and are now reloading their bombs." Crash! Bang! It appeared to be direct hits, but it was only the number six gun which was immediately above us, firing shells at the Luftwaffe. They were eventually driven off, and we proceeded towards the Suez Canal. When we reached Port Said, at least one ship had to leave the convoy for repairs, a bomb had pierced the deck, failed to explode, then its nose went out through a port hole, bursting the ship's plating on its way out.
OVER THE MOUNTAINS TO CHINA
When the Japanese overran Burma and the famous Burma road was cut off as a means of supplying China it was necessary to find some other way of assisting our Ally. With all land routes closed and the sea lanes dominated by Japanese war ships, supplies had to be flown in by air. The U.S.A.A.F. who had more resources available than the R.A.F, began a high priority air service from Johat in the Assam valley to run Kunming in China. This service was later augmented by transport planes flying directly from the Calcutta area.
Whichever route the planes took they had to cross the mountains between Assam or Burma and China. They vary in height from 10,000 feet to over 20,000 feet and are usually referred to as "The Hump". The uncertainty of the weather over these mountains was the chief danger to successful flying. A clear blue sky changed into a mass of clouds in a very short time. Planes were forced to fly at high altitudes to avoid bad weather and the danger of ice forming which caused them to lose height and possible crash on the mountains. It was on the 27th February 1945 that I got the chance to fly across "The Hump' to China.
It was "C" Flights term of duty crew at Digri in Bengal when a visiting Liberator landed. The outside of the plane was covered with dust, not the red powdery dust of Bengal but light coloured dust, such as we hadn't seen in our travels from the jungle of Ceylon to the dreary sunbaked plains of North East India. The air crew were members of our Squadron, this made us wonder where they had come from. We were told to get the aircraft read by flying the following day and fill all fuel tanks to capacity. In the bomb-bay of the aircraft there were four fuel tanks, which was unusual. Two were quite common as these aircraft had often to fly for fully 20 hours when on bombing operations. All the guns and gun mountings, also anything unnecessary for flying had been removed.
In the evening our flight sergeant entered the billet where I was sitting writing, he asked me if I would like to fly to China with the Liberator that had arrived that day. Two engine mechanics L.A.Cs Fairley and Mitchell were going but they needed an airframe mechanic too. We were required to service the aircraft at Kunming as they were flying petrol over the Hump for R.A.F planes operating over the Jap held territory. It was a chance to see China so I agreed to go.
The three of us were ready before daybreak, dressed in our Air Force blue in place or our usual khaki drill. We packed our kits and blankets in the plane, then got it ready for the arrival of the aircrew. When we were already, we took our places on the flight deck. Soon we were taxiing towards the runway. With the nose of the aircraft heading into the wind, the Pilot gave the engines the final run up. Then the control tower gave the signal to take off.
The pilot opened up the throttles and the four powerful engines roared, the plane seemed slow in gathering speed. Halfway along the runway it seemed as if she was too slow to rise off the ground, but the engines kept roaring as the propellers threshed the air. We would soon know if she would rise, a few hundred yards from the end of the tar-macadam strip, we felt her lifting slightly. We knew that it was now or never. The control column was pulled back slightly by the Pilot to place the elevators a few degrees above the tail plane. This was cause the air stream to force down the rear of the aircraft. The pull of the engines lifted up the nose, she wavered then began to rise. The wheels were clear of the ground and we were airborne.
We had to take a route that would not require flying more than about 14,000 thousand feet above sea level, as the three of us had been unable to get oxygen masks or parachutes at such short notice. We flew south of Imphal where the Japs had hemmed in the 14th army. The famous 14th were now on the road to Mandalay, which Rudyard Kipling had written about many years before. We were within range of Jap fighters but the only means of defence we had were the aircrew's revolvers and jungle knives.
As we flew on we saw many scattered villages surrounded by paddy fields. We flew over the Brahmaputra, Chindwin and Irrawady rivers, winding their various ways through the jungles and mountains of Burma to the sea. Through the breaks in the clouds we saw the towns of Katha and Bhamo and the Burma Road, twisting and turning its way over the mountains to China. Flying conditions had been quite good for the first part of the journey but a change was taking place, the clouds began to gather and they grew larger and blacker as we flew on. We felt cold despite all the clothes we had on. We unrolled our blankets and wrapped them around us, the clouds closed in, they got lower. If we had climbed a few thousand feet we might have got above the clouds but three of us were without oxygen masks.
We headed for a bank of clouds as we couldn't get round them, neither could we get under them, as we might hit the mountains. Then what a pilot dreads, happened, our aircraft started to ice up, just gradually at first it formed around the engines and on the leading edge of the main planes and tail unit. Our de-icing equipment had been removed as with the majority of liberators in South East Asia Command.
The clouds prevented us from seeing the outside of the aircraft, we shivered. The plane lost height, the indicator needle dropped, we couldn't afford to lose even a few hundred feet in height, even though our instruments were recording about 14,000 feet above sea level. About 1,000 feet below were the mountains. A break in the clouds let us see the main planes. The ice had grown thicker the clouds closed in again. The observer came up from his place in the nose of the plane and spoke to the Pilot. They studied the maps and glanced at the height indicator. My two ground crew mates and myself were without parachutes. Securely tied to one of the aircrew we should have a chance but 1,000 feet or so didn't give a parachute much chance to open out and deposit us gently on Burma's rugged mountains, especially with a double load.
We watched the instruments. The plane shivered and rocked, the needle fell back again. We had struck an air pocket, then the plane steadied herself again and regained the few hundred feet we had dropped. The clouds became thinner, we saw the main planes again and the ice had started to melt. The clouds grew whiter. Then they opened out as if to make room for us. We saw ice disappearing from the aircraft, we saw the mountains beneath us. We saw the black clouds above us, while ahead, we saw patches of clear blue sky.
The map indicated we were nearing the border of China, so we had a drink of coffee from the thermos flask and a sandwich. We kept a lookout for a stretch of water which was near to Kunming. We spotted it, then saw the town below and headed for the airfield. The wireless operator received the signal from the U.S.A.A.F. to land. The undercarriage was lowered as the aircraft made the customary circuit.
Her nose dipped towards the earth. The earth seemed to rise towards her nose, the Pilot and Co-pilot gripped their control columns firmly with both hands as they kept the rudder bar in position with their feet. The fuel laden aircraft wasn't going to be easy to handle in the cross wind that was blowing. The starboard wing dipped but she levelled out again. Only a few hundred feet to go, the runway seemed to be rising to meet us. We took a grip of what was nearest to us and braced ourselves for the shock. She shook! She had touched down and was now racing along the runway. The engine slowed down and the pilot applied the brakes, then taxied the plane towards the petrol storage tanks.
We were very cold as Kunming was 6,000 feet above sea level. While the petrol was pumped out of the aircraft tanks we watched other planes landing. A U.S.A.A.F. Liberator approached with a stationery propeller and straps hanging from the bomb bay. That meant an engine had failed and they had jettisoned their bomb bay tanks. It was on the same job as we were on. Then a Dakota with the R.A.F markings landed. They gave us the customary thumbs up as they taxied past
. Later another U.S.A.A.F. plane landed, then the Americans gathered in groups to discuss something. We were told later that it was the rations plane, it lost height rapidly and the aircrew had to jettison that week's beer supply!!
When our tanks had been emptied, with the exception of several hundred gallons needed to fly the plan over to Johat the next day the O.K. in charge of the petrol storage was questioned by his officer for giving us credit for more petrol than we had flown in but the O.K. assured him that even though it was a record, the figures were genuine.
We went by 'Jeep' to a bungalow on the outskirts of Kunming, later the crew of the Dakota arrived. They told us they had flown over at 22,000 feet and wondered how we managed to get safely over at 13,000 to 14,000 feet. The ground crew got the same food as the officers and N.C.O.s. We had taken the rough with them and now we could take the smooth. The next day we were up early to get the aircraft ready to fly to Assam for more petrol. They took off with just enough fuel to take them there. About noon the R.A.F Dakota took off accompanied by a U.S.A.A.F. plane, they were on special duties over Jap held territory.
After dinner we walked into the town to see the shops, the prices were several times as much as they were in India. When we changed ten Rupee notes into Chinese money we got a handful of dollar notes in exchange, inflation had struck China. In the main street we saw posters which read 'Welcome to the first convoys over the Burma Road', the Chinese were sincere, the road was not long opened. We went to the drome after tea to wait for our aircraft arriving, after an hour or two it didn't seem very hopeful. They sky got cloudy and before long the Hump was closed for flying, as it was too dangerous. We watched the sky until it was dark. They didn't appear! We counted up their fuel and the mileage, it was touch and go.
Next morning an Army Officer arrived at the bungalow to collect the kit of the Dakota aircrew. They wouldn't cross the Hump again. The U.S.A.A.F. plane returned owing to bad weather, the R.A.F flew on. 'Per Ardua Ad Astra'. We heard later that it had been brought down.
We were still waiting on news of our aircraft. Later in the day we were told that they would arrive the following day, weather permitting. When they landed they told us that they had had only sufficient petrol to take them to Johat. They had to climb over 22,000 feet, then struck a head wind, this used up extra petrol. When they checked their fuel gauges and compared it with the amount required to reach Johat, they donned their parachutes. They reached the airfield and were permitted to land in an emergency instead of the usual method of circling and dropping one or two thousand feet on each circuit, similar to going down a spiral staircase. When they dipped their tanks only 20 gallons remained for a four engine aircraft.
They continued flying to Johat and back each day for fully a week and brought in much needed petrol. The ground crew had to examine the plane after each trip and get it ready to fly the next day. We had trouble with engines, hydraulics and wheels and had to get new parts from the U.S.A.A.F. stores. We got practical experience of Lease Lend, as all parts had to be signed for on forms stating these terms.
About a week after we had arrived we were told that we would have to vacate the bungalow as Lord Louis Mountbatten C.inC. S.E.A. was visiting Kunming and the bungalow was needed for his staff. As the aircraft was due a minor inspection, we decided to return to India.
We had a better trip on our return journey and got a good view of the Burma Road, the ragged mountains and the huge stretches of jungle as we flew over Burma. We arrived at Alipore, Calcutta then took off for Jessore, where the aircraft would be overhauled before we returned to China.