Algerian Incident - Tony Cunnane's Life and Times
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Algerian Incident
This is a flying story from 49 years ago that I have never written about, nor spoken about, since it happened.
In September 1961, when I was an Air Electronics Officer on 18 Squadron at RAF Finningley (now Robin Hood Airport) my CO called me in and asked if I would like to go off on a flying trip to Gibraltar. The CO said that the Boss of the Bomber Command Bombing School (BCBS) at nearby RAF Lindholme (since 1985 a civilian prison) needed the services of a commissioned signaller to fly with a crew on a training flight in one of the unit’s Hastings aircraft. Naturally, I agreed with some enthusiasm. Only many years later did it occur to me that it was a very odd request to make.
Slight digression here. The Hastings in those days were equipped with simple VHF radio sets for short range work and a World War 2 high frequency transmitter/receiver TR1154/55 for communications when out of VHF range of any ground stations. Only an air signaller/AEO had the necessary Morse skills to operate the TR1154/55.
The flight down to Gibraltar (across France, turning west when the Mediterranean was reached) was uneventful. As was normal in the unpressurised Hastings, we flew the whole route at around 10,000 feet so there were some spectacular views as we flew over the French mountains. The ‘operating’ crew consisted of two pilots, a navigator, an engineer and me. Down the back, in what was usually the passenger compartment, there were several student navigators and two staff navigator instructors beavering away on their specialist radar equipments.
My crew position was a small cramped area immediately behind the captain. I was required to make ‘operations normal’ calls to the RAF Flight Watch organisation at least every 30 minutes. In between I amused myself by making practice calls to RAF signals stations as far afield as Cyprus and Singapore. Every hour or so one of the students brought refreshments up to the front cabin – there were no air stewards as such. (Click on the image to pop up a large, readable, version of thisa logbook page.)
The two days off in Gib were very enjoyable. Each evening we walked in small groups across the Spanish border to La Linea – a favourite watering hole and night club centre. At 26 years, I was by far the youngest member of the staff crew and so I gravitated towards the student navigators and because I had been to Gibraltar before and they had not, I was able to recommend the ‘best’ night clubs to patronise. We had to ensure that we crossed back into Gib before the border closed at midnight because it was illegal to remain in Spain overnight. I recall that on the second night we had to run. We crossed the border just before the Spanish gates closed.
But our luck was about to change. Two engines failed in quick succession about 90 minutes after leaving Gibraltar and we could no longer maintain height. Slowly, but inexorably, the aircraft started descending towards the Mediterranean Sea.
Click to go to part 2 of this story