Library Reference Number: 121
A Christmas Mercy Mission
It was Christmas Eve, 1950, and I was attending a Watch-night service in the little church on the RAF Station at Khormaksar, Aden. Earlier, there
had been a touch of humour when, during an expectant lull whilst waiting for the Chaplain to appear, the voice of a small child was loudly heard to
say, "Mummy, when is God coming?"! Not long into the service I was tapped on the shoulder by an airman who quietly whispered into my ear that I was
urgently required in my 8 Squadron briefing room. Wondering what this was all about I left the Church and made my way to the squadron offices where I
found waiting for me my Commanding Officer, Squadron leader C R A Forsyth, DSO, and a couple of our Air Signallers, including my own, Sergeant
Treweek. Also present were a couple of civilians who were introduced to me as being members of the Protectorate Governor's staff.
We were informed that the British Agent of the Western Aden Protectorate, a Major B W Seager, had been walking with his wife and an Adeni 'askari' (soldier) in the vicinity of the 'up-country' village of Dhala. They came across a group of strangers and when the Major approached to greet them, they set upon him and his 'askari' who tried to protect him. They both received severe knife wounds but, fortunately, they ignored Mrs Seager despite the fact that she was throwing stones at them in a valiant but futile attempt to drive them off. It wasn't known whether the miscreants were Yemenis from across the nearby border or dissident Adenis. Whichever, the wounds they had inflicted were of such severity that immediate hospital treatment for each of them was imperative.
We were briefed to fly a couple of Avro 'Ansons', the C.O. piloting one and I the other, to arrive at Dhala at first light of Christmas Day, taking with us some medical officers and the necessary equipment to administer blood transfusions whilst returning to Khormaksar with the casualties. The air-strip at Dhala was difficult to locate but I had flown into it on a few occasions and had, therefore, become familiar with it and the route to it through the mountains. It was for this reason that I had been selected as one of the pilots and I would take the lead with the C.O. following me.
Not only was the Dhala air-strip difficult to find, it also presented a far from easy approach and landing, located as it was at the foot of a steep sided mountain. A safe landing could only be made from the one direction towards the mountain, and the take-of had to be made in the opposite direction, away from the mountain, despite whatever direction the wind, if any, might be blowing. However, there was a considerable slope on the strip which advantaged slowing down the landing run as well as assisting the take-off run downhill.
It was as well that I was familiar with the area because, even so, I experienced some difficulty with flying the route for the first time in the dark but we arrived with just sufficient early morning light to carry out successful landings. The scene that met us was gory, to say the least. Each of the victims was lying in his own congealing blood on canvas stretchers and we wasted no time in getting them loaded into our aeroplanes. Needless to say, Major Seager and his wife were taken by the C.O. whilst I took the 'askari'. The major had a knife wound stretching from the side of his head across his neck and down onto his chest whilst the soldier's wound was, if anything, yet more severe. Despite the attention and treatment they were getting from the medical officers, I was doubtful as to whether we would manage to get them back to Khormaksar and thence to a hospital in time to save their lives, and the medical officer travelling with me expressed the same concern.
For the return flight economical cruising was totally forgotten and we 'opened up all the taps' to achieve the maximum speed that we could get out of our 'Ansons', and my log book records that it took 35 minutes. Ambulances were waiting for us and the casualties were whisked away almost before we had time to shut down the engines. Back at the Mess I had time to shower and get a couple of hours sleep before partaking in the normal Christmas Day festivities of an Air Force Station, and there's no doubt that rather more than a few drinks in convivial company did more to help me wind down than any amount of present day counselling would have down, at least, I believe so.
As for our casualties, I am pleased to say that, harking back to the child's query in Church on Christmas Eve, God did not come for them on this occasion and they both survived their horrific ordeal.