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Authors: Jerrard Tickell

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*****

 

"Jack's engineering capability was the mainstay of the operating side. He was unique, for at that time he was the only flight engineer who was also a fully qualified maintenance engineer; coming to the crew direct from flight testing the York and the new four-engined bombers at Boscombe Down, he was invaluable... Brimming with confidence and knowledge, he always made up his mind on the hard facts as he found them, gave clear and unequivocal advice to the Captain and never shirked responsibility. Because he was essentially a practical man working in a medium with which he was deeply familiar, his judgement was invariably right. A good deal older than the rest of us in years, his energy and enthusiasm made us regard him as our contemporary."

 

*****

 

Rolls-Royce were acutely conscious of the future commercial importance of the York as the first transport aircraft to be built and fitted with their engines during the war. They wanted to know everything about its performance - and particularly how their engines would behave in the tropics. They had an eye to the present - the safety of the Prime Minister of paramount importance-and to the future when it was hoped that Yorks would pioneer the embryonic routes of peacetime B.O.A.C. Jack Payne worked in the closest harmony with Rolls-Royce and came to be the vital link between manufacturer and user.

Jack Payne kept
Ascalon
as well as her Skymaster successor in first class flying trim in all weathers and in all climates. No problem of maintenance was beyond his skill, no repair beyond his ingenuity. At one time, because of his unorthodoxy in handling the technical bureaucrats, a suggestion was made in high places that Jack Payne should be moved from the Prime Minister's aircraft. A low, menacing growl came from Number Ten-and the suggestion was dropped like a red-hot coal.

 

There was
Ascalon
and there were the main members of her crew. Her Owner was in Washington conferring with the President of the United States. He required his aerial yacht in Gibraltar on May the 27th, 1943. Much remained to be done before that date.

 

 

Chapter
Two

 

THE galley in
Ascalon
-
whimsically
situated under the main petrol tank - was primitive to a degree and seemed to promise little more than Brown Windsor soup and warmed up Spam or snoek. Obviously war-time austerity had blunted imagination for surely the Prime Minister was known to have a robust appetite and a thirst that was unlikely to be assuaged by a permanent diet of soup. The first requirement was to provide at least elementary arrangements to cook fresh food. Out went the hay-box-and in came a modest wine cellar. A chance meeting with Frank E. Buckell, Aviation Manager of The General Electric Company, proved to be, in fact, heaven sent. He took the civilised view that 'any bloody fool can succeed in being uncomfortable' and set to work with a will to mitigate the austerity meted out to the Prime Minister by the Ministry of Aircraft Production.

Looking at his shoes and then at the sky, Buckell asked mildly if the crew of the V.I.P. flight could possibly lay their hands on a sheet of unofficial stainless steel. If so-and nobody appreciated the value of licences and .priorities more than he did - Mr. Churchill's aircraft could have a cooker within a space of a few hours. It seemed, he said, a pity that the Prime Minister and his staff should have to ruin their digestions and risk the possibility of poisoning by Axis-inspired cooks many thousands of miles away from home-all for the want of a sheet of steel. In the grand balance of the war, it seemed disproportionate. And to apply (in triplicate) for this simple essential would take many weeks. The V.I.P. flight went into unofficial action and hot freshly cooked meals for Mr. Churchill were assured before nightfall.

 

The next crew member to join
Ascalon
was Flight Lieutenant William 'Jock' Gallacher, a quick, needle-sharp and loyal Roman Catholic from Glasgow. He came as an expert wireless operator from Coastal Command.

 

*****

 

'Jock was then a bachelor gay. He came to us from Coastal Command with wide experience of long range operations. Perhaps a little apart from us Southerners at first, he was rapidly assimilated, or were we? He was a volatile character, quick to anger, but equally quick to great friendship. He was absolutely competent at his job and tireless in his efforts to carry out his duties to the hilt. The radio equipment on
Ascalon
was strictly basic and our top secret messages were all too frequently submerged by more strident transmissions. But Jock had an unassailable glint in his eye and the sight of him hunched over his wireless set was reassuring in itself. Later, when we were to enjoy the comparative sophistication of the Skymaster, his wise planning advice over the Radio equipment and his extensive knowledge of air operating procedures made our penetration of the Russian air space very much easier."

 

*****

 

Though the whole crew were on the posted strength of 24 Squadron at Hendon,
Ascalon
was operated from Northolt where the runway was 1,800 yards long with clear approaches at either end. Also Northolt lay conveniently on the route between Number 10 Downing Street and Chequers, which meant that the Prime Minister could drop in unheralded and pat his aircraft's nose. This he did on more than one occasion - much to the embarrassment and fascination of Jack Payne when he realised that there was a secondary purpose in these visits, the promotion of the Owner's personal comfort. It is certain that the movements of both aircraft and crew were watched night and day by this country's secret enemies. There was always the risk of loose talk and gossip in bars. The advent of this curious bird of flight did not go unseen by prying eyes and one could never forget the sinister presence of H.E. the German Ambassador in Dublin. Because of this, a cover plan was always devised to explain the absence of
Ascalon
from Northolt. Before flight, the preparation of the aircraft involved fuelling on a much larger scale than the requirements of the Polish Spitfires that were its stable companions. Extra petrol bowsers carrying 2,800 gallons were driven over from R.A.F. Hendon under cover of darkness and returned empty before daylight. On the domestic side, linen and knives and forks had to be discreetly loaded at the latest convenient hour. The air craft had to be victualed and it was no easy task, with strict war time rationing, unobtrusively to bring food and drink for departure in the middle of the night.

The fact that
Ascalon
was completely unarmed and was incapable of hitting back made security arrangements the more vital. At no time did they fail.

 

Between May 3rd and May 2oth, 1943,
Ascalon
underwent handling, radio and consumption trials at Boscombe Down. In all, the crew had her in the air for some twenty-four hours. They based their performance calculations on the only figures then available-those which related to her cousin, the Lancaster bomber.

 

*****

 

"We soon found out that
Ascalon
preferred to fly at about 10,000 feet and at a speed of 200 m.p.h. As we used up our fuel, we could maintain this speed with progressively less engine power. Ten hours in the air gave us a comfortable range of 2,000 statute miles which is the distance between Northolt and Algiers. From these purely basic handling trials, we were faced with an inaugural flight to a fixed, rigid programme. It was, to say the least of it, daunting. It was Mr. Churchill's intention to tour the battlefields of North Africa in
Ascalon
, an operationally untried aircraft. We prayed that nothing would go wrong. Compared with modern lets, we should have had an angel with a red flag fluttering in front of us …"

 

*****

 

"All aviation proceeds in a series of jerks" - and the inaugural flight of
Ascalon
conformed to this rule.

After a three day hold-up at Northolt due to bad weather forecasted en route, the skies cleared at midday on May 25th and
Ascalon
took off jubilantly on the first stage of her first all-important flight. The passengers were three, two senior R.A.F. officers and a civilian, one of the Prime Minister's secretaries. The intention was to land and refuel swiftly at Portreath in preparation for a night crossing of the Bay of Biscay. To cross the Bay in daylight without adequate cloud cover was considered dangerous in the extreme. The U-boat wolf packs operating out of Brest, Saint Nazaire and Lorient, were protected by J.U. 88's and Focke-Wulf Kondors who would be only too happy to shoot down a British aircraft, armed or not.

To the dismay of the crew, the night met forecast at Portreath was thoroughly unfavourable and time was running out. The Prime Minister was due to arrive at Gibraltar by British Airways Clipper on May 27th and, for elementary security reasons, there could be no delay in his departure from the Rock. Mr. Churchill's figure, buoyant and chunky, was not one to pass unnoticed and the Nazi 'duty spy' at La Linea had powerful binoculars perpetually trained on Gibraltar's airstrip and the arrival of a York-a type of aircraft at that time unknown in North Africa-would be instantly reported to Berlin. It was!
Ascalon
had to make Gibraltar punctually in fair weather or in foul-and the bold decision was taken to cross that lethal stretch of water by day, come what might.

The crew spent an anxious night.

The following morning, May the 26th, met. had rather better news and promised cloud cover as far as Finisterre on the north-west tip of Spain. At 12 o'clock,
Ascalon
roared into the sky and was immediately lost in the murk. Those on the ground crossed their fingers as the sound of her engines died away.

 

*****

 

"After two hours, the cloud thinned and shredded and suddenly we were in brilliant, dangerous sunshine. Met. had been over-optimistic but there could be no turning back. We flew on at 3,000 feet, acutely aware that we were an ideal target for marauding J.U. 88's and for Kondors! But this must have been a Nazi half-holiday. When we reached the latitude of Finisterre, our track lay due south to a position off Cape Roca and thence to Tarrifa Point. We hit off exactly right and finished the run into the Straits, within sight of both continents. We were over the North Front at Gibraltar exactly eight hours after take-off. We had flown 1,310 track miles and had seen nothing in the air other than the sun. A solitary destroyer was hove to in the Straits and the sea so calm that she hardly had a ripple at her bows. It could have been a peacetime flight.

"The landing
of Ascalon
on North Front was as unexpected as it was dramatic. Sunburned men rubbed their eyes at the sight of this strange aircraft-as did the Nazi spy sitting on his sunny perch at La Linea. It was to become a standing joke with us that our movements were signalled by tie-line to Berlin faster than they were by wireless to London. And the yacht-like inside of our aircraft indicated the V.I.P. status of our future passenger. We answered all questions with what we hoped were enigmatic smiles, put
Ascalon
in one of the parking spaces and made our way to the Bristol Hotel.

"Bananas, oranges and several different kinds of sherry! It was almost incredible that we had been limited to an ounce of Spam in Portreath a few hours ago and that a few hours hence we were going to be in the company of the Prime Minister .There was little sleep for any of us that night…"

 

*****

 

The following morning
Ascalon's
crew were up early. The Rock was positively buzzing with rumours which ranged from the reputed arrival of Stalin to that of Mae West on a goodwill mission from America or Ribbentrop emulating the escape of Hess.
Ascalon'
s inside was swept and garnished and her engines lovingly cared for by Jack Payne. The aircraft was taken to the western end of the airstrip, on the section that juts out into the Bay. Security had insisted on this move so that the Prime Minister should have the minimum distance in which to be seen before embarking for Maison Blanche at Algiers. It was, like so many security arrangements in the future, capable but over-elaborate.

By the afternoon, it was obvious that strong head winds over the Atlantic would so delay the British Airways Clipper that Mr. Churchill would certainly not get away to Algiers that night.

He came into the Bay of Algeciras in the evening, the Clipper flinging up arcs of foam. On shore the security grip tightened-but to no avail. Rejoicing to be on the British soil of the invincible Rock, Mr. Churchill stood in the bows of the launch, smiling and waving, a cigar cocked at an impudent angle. Nobody could possibly mistake that thick set, challenging figure-or that cigar. Mr. Churchill wanted to be seen and welcomed. He
was
seen and welcomed, not by a few but by virtually everybody on the Rock. The phrase: "Winston's here" seethed up and down the narrow streets and he finally stepped ashore to a storm of applause. The duty spy put through a priority call to Berlin.

While Mr. Churchill set off to spend the night with H.B. The Governor at The Convent, the crew of
Ascalon
went back to the Bristol Hotel. But, as was inevitable, their rooms had meanwhile been let to other migrants. To comb packed Gibraltar for half a dozen beds would merely be to invite ridicule. Why bother to do it when the Prime Minister's aerial yacht and its bunks were at their disposal?

The crew bedded down in the austere comfort of
Ascalon

and slumbered in vicarious glory.

 

Ascalon
was marshalled at the harbour tip of the runway shortly after dawn. A fleet of service cars arrived on the airstrip at noon and from the first of them stepped Mr. Churchill.

He came stumping
up the steps of
Ascalon
and demanded luncheon for himself and everybody in his glittering retinue. He was accompanied by the C.I.G.S. Lord Alan brooke, by General Lord Is may, by Mr. Roosevelt's trusted representative, General George C. Marshall and by one who was to become possibly the crew's most popular passenger, General Lord Alexander. Watched glumly by the inevitable Scotland Yard detective, Mr. Churchill's patient and long-suffering valet Sawyers vanished into the galley, with an air of sad speculation as to its facilities for cooking and the extent of its cellar… Corporal Shepherd and he got on with the cooking while bottles were uncorked.

The Owner had taken possession of his yacht. Five minutes later
Ascalon
roared off the end of the runway and climbed eastwards into the brilliant sunshine.

BOOK: Moon Squadron
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