December 1955
In early December No. 6 Squadron returned from its annual armament practice camp in Cyprus, and Venom training flights continued. Pre-Christmas jollifications got into their stride with cocktails with the AOC and drinks at the Air Headquarters mess, followed by a party at the Club with the habitual game of roulette. Apart from all the happy Christmas celebrations our break was taken up with settling into the married quarter and exchanging visits with other friends on the ‘patch’.
On the second day of the New Year the aircrews went out to the Army exercise ranges, and were taken for a ride in Centurion tanks to experience a battle tank in action. After that experience there was not one of us who would have swapped our Venom for a Centurion in which to go to war. Later I flew a Pembroke into Baghdad with four large, well-muscled passengers who were required, after landing at the airfield, to lift and manoeuvre an upright piano into the Pembroke. It was a tight fit, and I seem to remember that we had to fly back with the rear door slightly open. The next night the piano came into use at a Vamps and Tramps Ball in the Club. Three days later a crowd of our aircrews were invited by Brigadier Ismail to an excellent ‘koosie’ at his home in the nearby village of Ramadie. Our parties with the Iraqis were always interesting and enjoyable, but inhibited a little, as, being Muslim, very few of our hosts would drink alcohol, and their visitors felt a little embarrassed in accepting the gins and whiskies which were invariably offered. On the last day of January the CAS Dermot-Boyle visited and had lunch with the AOC, and we all met him at cocktails in the evening The next day I flew the CAS and AOC to Baghdad in the Pembroke.
In February I did two Venom low-level strike exercises, one on Sharaban and another on Ukidir, and a low-level reconnaissance of Ba Quaba and Jaiuala. A flight to Baghdad and Kirkuk ended back at Habbaniyah in a dust storm, and as always, Earnie helped me in to land in very poor visibility with an immaculate QGH, which was as good as any radar talk-down. We were still awaiting our talk-down radar equipment. Early in March I had to take a Pembroke down to H.3 with a doctor to pick up an airman patient who had been accidentally shot and see him safely delivered to the Habbaniyah hospital, where he was soon comfortably settled. In the same month I took off in a Venom to do a low-level navigation exercise over the desert at night. This flight brought all the magical experiences of the desert, together with the thrill of high-speed flight at low level, with the desert lit only by the canopy of stars. A memorable flight ending only when almost empty fuel tanks bought me back to a reluctant landing at my base. On the 13th, Brig Hayes asked to be taken on a reconnaissance up the river to search for a launch party that had set off up the Euphrates earlier in the day. We went off in the Anson, but despite covering some fifty miles saw nothing of them. They were found later, embarrassed but safe.
On 10 March I was very pleased to meet Percy Gick again (Admiral Sir Percy Gick), who called in with Sir William Dixon, and we spent a happy hour at the bar talking over old days together in Hong Kong, when we used to take a couple of naval Corsairs from Kai Tak and go chasing Chinese pirate junks over the China Seas. Later I took him in the Pembroke to Baghdad, where we picked up the Air Marshal and flew him to Nicosia. I returned with my navigator to Habbaniyah later that night. On 12 March Lord and Lady Mountbatten staged through Habbaniyah, and in the absence of the station commander Eve and I had the interesting experience of dining with them in the Club, just the four of us. We had very interesting talks with our guests, but they ate very little of the steaks we offered, and were clearly tired and grateful for an early night. They flew on the next day, and later I received a very nice personal letter of thanks from Earl Mountbatten. During the following week the Iraqis held Exercise Nisir at El Rashid, and I flew the AOC and SASO in the Anson to view the flying programme.
The next day I flew AVM Boyce to El Rashid for the same purpose, and at the end of the exercise I flew them all back in the Iraqi Air Force Dove to Habbaniyah. Afterwards a series of farewell parties culminated on the last day of the month, when many friends of Mike and Barbara assembled to say farewell to this popular couple on their return to UK on Mike’s promotion. They took off in a Dan Air York and arrived back home on their fifth wedding anniversary.
On 2 April, Easter Monday, we had organized a regatta on the lake, and also a gymkhana on the padang, followed by a dinner dance in the evening at the Club. A few days later, on 5 April, King Faisal, accompanied by the British Ambassador, flew into Habbaniyah to perform the opening of the Ramadi Barrage. This was a project to build a waterway with controlling sluices to divert some of the flow of the Euphrates waters into Lake Habbaniyah when the flood waters came down from the melting snows up in the mountains of its source, in Turkey. Many guests were invited to the ceremony, and were accommodated in a huge and magnificent royal Arab tent, resplendent with gold hangings and liberally carpeted with Turkish rugs underfoot. After the ceremony everyone moved to the lawns of Air House, where a sumptuous ‘koosie’ was laid out for all to enjoy, but the special delicacy of the feast, the sheep’s eyes, naturally enough, and thankfully, were kept for our Arab guests.
The next day I took the Anson into Baghdad and returned to Habbaniyah with Sir David Wright, the Ambassador, and Brig Shaw. The occasion was the ceremonial departure of No. 6 Squadron, Royal Air Force. The squadron’s Venoms were lined up on the tarmac with a pilot in front of each. Peter Ellis took the Ambassador with several senior Iraqi officers down the line, introducing each pilot in turn, and then they returned and took up their respective positions on or behind the saluting dais. On a signal from Peter the pilots climbed aboard their aircraft, and at another signal twelve Coffman starters belched out their black smoke and twelve Ghost jet engines screamed into life, scorching with their jet flames the asbestos mats draped over the tailplanes of each aircraft, placed there to prevent the tailplanes themselves being scorched. Peter led his snake of Venoms out to the runway and they took off in fours. As they flew by, the reviewing officers saluted their final passing, the Iraqis politely, but inwardly, no doubt, with the sentiment of ‘good riddance!’
On 12 April Black MacDonald threw a cocktail party on his imminent posting home, and the next day I took over command of Royal Air Force Habbaniyah. On the last day of the month the station moved into summer working routine, khaki dress was donned and Hughie Edwards (Gp Capt Hugh Edwards VC, the new station commander) arrived, in blue uniform.
It was unfortunate timing that the AOC’s Inspection was due on the day after Hughie arrived, as I had rehearsed the parade and he had not been involved in any of it, but for some reason the AOC sent a message from Cyprus that Edwards was to take the parade. It turned out to be quite impracticable, so that on the arrival of the AOC I was on the parade ground in charge of the parade and Gp Capt Edwards met him as he descended from his aircraft. He gave Hughie one look and said, ‘I expected you to take the parade’, and without another word turned round, re-entered the aircraft and told his pilot to take him back to Cyprus. Needless to say, the two of us were dumbfounded, and furious that the AOC had left some 500 airmen expectantly lined up on the parade ground. We were both even more astounded the next day when a signal from Air Headquarters was received ordering us both to report to the AOC in Cyprus at once. We both agreed that the situation was ridiculous, and Hughie said that he was not going but it was up to me whether I went or not. I, of course, supported Hughie, so neither of us went to answer the summons to Command Headquarters, and nothing further was ever heard of the extraordinary event. I had the greatest admiration for Hughie Edwards, who was the kindest and most considerate of men with none of the prejudices of the average Aussie. His courage was of lion proportions, evidenced by the award of the Victoria Cross for his Blenheim operations in the war. I did not meet Clayton Boyce, the AOC, again until years later, when he turned out to be my boss in the Ministry of Aviation, and then he could not have been a more pleasant officer with whom to serve, and he never mentioned the Habbaniyah affair. Perhaps he did not even remember it!