Early Re-Pat to UK

Halfway through my scheduled 30-month tour of duty in Ceylon, the Signals Officer, Flight Lieutenant Gibb, persuaded me to apply once again for aircrew training. I never knew why he did this but he may have been prompted by the Hornchurch system whereby after a decent interval they would recall some candidates who had previously failed to be selected for aircrew and let them go through the system again. I told the Signals Officer that I was willing to be send back to UK to visit Hornchurch again.

A few weeks later I was summoned to Negombo for an interview with the Air Officer Commanding Ceylon. I can’t remember a single thing about that interview but the Air Marshal must have seen some latent talent because he recommended that I should appear before a commissioning board in Singapore at Headquarters of the Far East Air Force, RAF Changi. I was quite excited by the prospect because I had never been to Singapore.

The journey didn’t start in an auspicious way. I’d been instructed to wait at a well-known pick up point close to the Airmen’s Mess at Negombo at 7.30am from where I would be picked up by the Air Movements bus. To make sure that I was not late I travelled from Gangodawila to Negombo the night before, driven as always by the faithful Mr DeLisle in the Gango garry. It was a long night. I no longer knew anyone at Negombo and there was no film on at the Station cinema that evening. The following morning, after an early breakfast, I went to the pick up point with my small kit bag. I arrived in good time but the transport failed to turn up. By 7.45 I was getting very worried and so I went into the Airmen’s Mess and telephoned Air Movements.

“You’re too late for the flight,” snapped an unfriendly sergeant. For some reason Air Movements staff in those days seemed to find passengers, certainly airmen passengers, a nuisance. “Why weren’t you at the pick up point on time?”

I explained that I had been on time and that the Airmen’s Mess sergeant would back me up. That made a difference! The one thing that Duty Air Movements Officers hated more than anything else was any suggestion that a passenger failed to travel due to an Air Movements delay or failure. That had to be reported to higher authority and it inevitably reflected badly on the DAMO.

A car arrived for me a few minutes later and I was driven straight out onto the airfield to a Valetta, an elderly twin–piston transport aircraft. The Valetta was based on the wartime Wellington bomber, designed by Barnes Wallis, inventor of the bouncing bomb. It incorporated the Wellington's fuselage and engines and the first one of its type entered service with the RAF soon after World War 2 as a replacement for the Dakota. Used as a transport plane, it could carry 16 VIPs, 36 parachutists or light vehicles such as Land Rovers. It was known affectionately as the Flying Pig because of its tubby appearance.

I was hustled unceremoniously onto the aircraft without any checks on me or my baggage. The aircrew and all the other passengers were already on board. As soon as I was through the rear entrance door, the door was slammed shut and the aircraft’s engines started. I could see only one vacant seat so I sat there. It turned out that most of the passenger were officers and wives who were off to Singapore for a spot of leave.

The Valetta didn’t have the range to reach Singapore without refuelling. We stopped off at Car Nicobar for about an hour and were able to get out and stretch our legs. I had never even heard of the place but it was very green, warm and humid. The fuel had to be poured into the aircraft tanks from large drums which ios why the refuelling process took so long.

It was quite daunting arriving at RAF Changi all on your own. It was by far the largest RAF station I had been to. The airfield looked enormous and there were literally dozens of aircraft on the ground. The Air Movements staff took me in hand and directed me to the Transit Block. They gave me a chitty which instructed me where and when my interview would take place. It was a relief to know that I was expected.

I had a day to spare so I took myself on a visit to Air Traffic Control to have a look round. I met a pilot who offered to take me on a low level trip around Singapore Island in a Devon, a small transport aircraft. That was great fun.

The interview board took place in the Far East Air Force Headquarters at Changi, now forever hidden beneath the magnificent Singapore International Airport. That was the first of my many visits to the island, and this time I was properly prepared. The interview board consisted of a wing commander, a squadron leader and a flight lieutenant. It seemed rather pointless to me since the three-star Air Marshal in Ceylon had already recommended me for a commission but it seemed to be the way things were done. I can’t remember a single thing about the interview but I must have convinced the Board that I was a good prospect because shortly after getting back to Gangodawila, Flt Lt Gibbs came on one of his visits for Pay Parade.

"Cunnane," he said, "Congratulations. You’re going back to the UK immediately to await an early visit to the Aircrew Selection Centre at Hornchurch. Good luck to you."

Things moved very swiftly after that. A couple of days later I left Gango for the last time. There were very few people around apart from the duty watch keepers. Most of the off duty personnel were off base at the beach or down town in Colombo. We didn’t normally hang around to say farewell to those leaving for home because such goodbyes tended to emphasise how long it was to your own tour-ex date. As usual there was no sign of Flight Sergeant Owen – I thought he, at least, might have taken the trouble to be there to see me off. I said goodbye to Sandy, the young lad who looked after the hut, our laundry, and any other services we required, and I still remember looking back briefly into the billet that had been home for 15 months. I got into the garry and was driven off to Negombo by Mr DeLisle.

Although I’d enjoyed my time at Gango and in Ceylon, there is no doubt that I was home sick for England and family and I was keen to have another go at furthering my RAF career. The four-day flight back to UK was uneventful and followed the reverse route to the outbound journey. I got some satisfaction at Habbaniya when I saw in the distance the irate Irish sergeant we had met on the way east. He was still serving at that awful place and yet I was on my way home! That quite made my day.

The Hastings landed at Lyneham at 2.30pm on 15 February 1956. I had a window seat this time and it was so nice to see green fields and small villages glide past as we made our final approach for landing. Along with other airmen returning at the end of their overseas tours we had to go next to Innsworth for the inevitable documentation but before setting off we had time to visit the NAAFI. There I met Philip Holt, a lad who had been in my form at Salford Grammar School. We had only a few minutes to compare notes and then I had to board the coach for Innsworth.

It was late when we arrived at Innsworth and so we had to stay the night in the transit block. The following morning all the necessary documentation was completed in record time. I was told by an officer that I would receive a letter at home in the next few days giving me instructions where and when to go next.

By mid-morning I was ready to set off on 14 days disembarkation leave. First, I sent a telegram to my parents from Gloucester railway station because I’d had no opportunity before leaving Ceylon to tell them that I would be coming home early. I remember the exact wording of that telegram: ‘SURPRISE ARRIVING LEEDS ON DEVONIAN TODAY PLEASE MEET TONY’. The man in the Telegraph Office said I had enough words to spare to include the time of arrival but I told him there was no need because our family was familiar with the exact times of the Devonian express. Instead I added an extra SURPRISE to the text. The telegram had arrived at home with barely time for Mum and Dad to get on the red bus to Leeds to meet me. They were in a bit of a state because I they had no idea why I was home 15 months before I was due.

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