Library Reference Number: 223
Anson Odyssy
In 1950 I was flying 'Brigands' on No. 8 Squadron based at RAF Khormaksar, Aden. The Squadron also had the role of a Support Flight for the Aden Protectorate and to facilitate landing on and taking off from short desert landing strips we were equipped with the Avro 'Anson' Mk. XIX. In July of that year I was tasked to collect an 'Anson' from the Maintenance Unit (MU) at RAF Fayid in the Canal Zone, Egypt. My crew was Flt. Lt. 'Mitch' Mitchell (navigator) and S4 Tony Trewick (signaller). We were flown to Fayid in a 'Valletta' of the Aden Communications Flight.
Log entry: 10 July 1950; Anson; VP524; Fuel consumption check; 1 hr 40 mins.
This flight in the 'Anson' which I was to collect was in the nature of an air test to determine its serviceability and suitability to fly the many miles over inhospitable country to Aden via Khartoum. In particular, it was necessary to check that its fuel consumption was within acceptable limits required of such a flight. There was a standing order that all aircraft flying to Khartoum should arrive with at least one hour's flying time to spare in the event that the airfield would be closed down by the sudden onset of a sandstorm which periodically did happen. The test proved the 'Anson' to be acceptable although the fuel consumption was just within limits and could have been better. I reported this on landing and was assured that the necessary carburettor adjustments would be made to improve it.
Log entry: 12 July 1950; Anson; VP524; Fayid to Luxor; 2 hrs 25 mins.
This first leg of the flight following the fertile path of the river Nile southwards to Luxor where we were to refuel was uneventful. The fuel consumption was still a little higher than was to be expected but nothing to worry about. Relations between Britain and Egypt at this time were a trifle uneasy with events slowly leading to the Suez crisis which was to take place a few years later. Anyway, the Egyptian officials at the Luxor civil airport did their best to delay us. They tried to make out that our medical certificates were not up to date in respect of the requisite inoculations and vaccinations. This was a lot of nonsense and I'm sure they knew it. Most likely there was no need for such certificates whilst only in transit through their airport but they just had to show their superiority before letting us resume our journey southwards, and we decided it was wiser to let them play their stupid games.
Log entry: 12 July 1950; Anson; VP524; Luxor to Wadi Halfa; 2 hrs 10 mins.
This second leg of our journey took us over country with which I was now familiar. Rocky, scrub covered hills interspersed with sandy desert plains, most unattractive in appearance. Away to our left flowed the Nile with its narrow strip of fertility clinging to its banks. At that time the Valley of the Kings, near Aswan, hadn't been violated by the construction of the new dam forming the vast reservoir, so it was worth a wee detour to view the magnificent carvings of the Pharaohs before they were moved to a new location.
I was still keeping a careful check on our fuel consumption and, although we were certainly using rather more than normal for the engine settings I was using, there was still no real cause for concern and so the flight continued without incident. As the Nile converged on our track from the port side, Wadi Halfa could be seen as a cluster of white buildings on its eastern bank. We were now crossing the border into the Sudan and, very shortly after, we landed on the sandy strip which passed for an airfield. Opening the aeroplane's cabin door was like opening the door of an oven. It's said that Wadi Halfa is one of the hottest places on earth and the blast of super-heated air that struck us definitely tried to prove the point. In no time at all our khaki bush shirts and slacks were clinging to us like as though we'd been swimming in them, and swimming we were, in our own perspiration! The shade temperature stood at 110º F (40º C), so what it was like on the exposed airfield was left to the imagination. Fortunately, we were soon refuelled and ready to climb back into our 'Anson' and it was a great relief to climb to the relative coolness of the afternoon Sudanese airspace at altitude.
Log entry: 12 July 1950; Anson; VP524; Wadi Halfa and return with excess fuel consumption; 1 hr 10 mins.
Thankful to back in the air again I set course for Khartoum and settled back for the last stage of the day's journey whilst looking forward to a cold pint in the transit Mess bar, but it wasn't to be. About half an hour after leaving Wadi Halfa Mitch, my navigator, reported that his latest fuel check indicated a marked increase in the consumption rate. A quick calculation confirmed that, assuming the rate didn't increase any further, we would just about make Khartoum but certainly not with the required one hour's additional endurance should a sand storm be blowing. Also the signs were that the fuel consumption rate might well increase further so the only sensible decision was to turn about and return to Wadi Halfa whilst we still had sufficient fuel to do that. Tony Trewick signalled Khartoum to report our problem and to request that assistance be sent to Wadi Halfa to rectify the probable carburettor problem.
We weren't at all happy about the prospect of an enforced stay in the 'inferno' we'd sampled such a short time ago. I parked the 'Anson' after landing and made what arrangements I could for its security whilst we obtained transport to take us into the town to seek accommodation. We realised that we also had a problem in this respect as our cash was well nigh exhausted and the only hotel, the Blue Nile Hotel, was an expensive tourist hotel. Fortunately, the resident British political officer accepted our predicament and was only too happy to arrange an imprest for as much cash as we wanted. I don't ever remember having to repay this loan! Perhaps the winter temperature in Wadi Halfa made it a more enjoyable resort to attract tourists which justified the luxury of the Blue Nile Hotel but the summer climate did nothing to help its trade and we were received with open arms and very comfortably quartered in an almost empty hotel. I recall that at dinner that evening the soup was listed on the menu as 'beer soup'. We took this to be a printing error but that wasn't the case. Ladled into our soup plates was hot beer with a few vegetables floating around in it. We consumed it if only to maintain our policy of never refusing a beer when offered it!
The next day an aeroplane arrived from Khartoum with mechanics who were soon at work on our stricken 'Anson'. The problem seemed to be in the port engine carburettor and those valiant airmen worked the whole of the day in the blazing sun trying to rectify the fault. At the day's end they had to report that satisfactory repairs couldn't be made under the prevailing conditions and that, although the aeroplane could be flown, it was likely that little or no improvement had been made to its fuel consumption rate. The thought of spending yet another day in Wadi Halfa decided me that we had to get the 'Anson' to Khartoum where proper repairs could be carried out, come what may. In consultation with Mitch I considered that if arrangements could be made to refuel at a small landing strip at Atbara, a little over half way to Khartoum, we could make this stage of the journey in two hops despite the excessive fuel consumption, Accordingly, signals were sent and arrangements made for a refuelling stop at Atbara and we retired that night satisfied that we'd done everything possible to facilitate our departure on the morrow.
Log entry: Anson; VP524; Wadi Halfa to Atbara; 2 hrs 35 mins.
Whilst climbing away from the Wadi Halfa airfield after an early start we were rather apprehensive about the performance of our aeroplane and its ability to make the distance to Atbara. Needless to say, a very careful check was kept on the amount of fuel that the port engine was guzzling and it was still a lot more than it should have been. However, the wind was in our favour, blowing from the north, and at the half-way point we'd used less than half of our total fuel capacity so we had reasonable grounds to feel assured that we would make it.
Atbara owed, and presumably still owes, its existence to the Sudan Railway, being its central repair and maintenance depot. I didn't expect to find a particularly good airfield when we arrived but I was still taken aback to perceive from the air what appeared to be little more than a clearance in the scrub on the outskirts of a little shanty town. There were no buildings to be seen on the landing ground apart from a meagre looking corrugated iron sheet clad shed. There was a tattered wind-sock that indicated a strong cross-wind over the landing strip. As I reduced height on my approach it became obvious that there was indeed a very strong cross-wind and I must have been facing almost thirty degrees off the strip centre line (had there been one) to maintain my correct flight path. I felt very pleased with myself when I kicked the aeroplane straight at just the right time and height to achieve a three point landing without shearing off the landing gear (undercarriage as we then called it).
There was no sign of any activity on the 'airfield' so I taxied towards the shed, turned the aeroplane to face into wind, and shut down the engines. I hoped that a refuelling bowser would soon arrive so that we could 'fill her up' and rapidly depart. Instead of a bowser, a Sudanese youth arrived on a bicycle and yes, he'd been sent to meet us, and no, there would be no bowser. Instead, he produced a key and unlocked the shed to display its contents – a stack of 4 gallon 'flimsy' petrol cans, This was our fuel and, obviously, we were expected to carry out the refuelling operation ourselves by pouring the contents of the cans into our wing tanks. The total fuel capacity of our 'Anson' was 140 gallons so, with less than 40 remaining after we landed, we would need to dispense about a hundred gallons in this manner, that is 25 cans. Before we could even start I had to ask our Sudanese 'friend' to return to where-ever he had come from and bring back a large piece of chamois leather with which to line the large funnel which was provided to ensure that no sand or other contamination would enter the fuel tanks. This would, and did, slow down the refuelling process which eventually got under way. We poured can after can, gallon after gallon, of high octane petrol, puncturing and physically lifting the cans, which were of considerable weight with their 4 gallons contents, onto the wing where, taking it in turn, one of us would pour the contents through the funnel into the tanks. This took place under a mid-day mid-summer African sun, the heat of which combined with the petrol fumes soon had us reeling. Our stints on the wing grew shorter and shorter but we eventually and thankfully poured the last can and were ready to get airborne again. Suitably remunerated and with my signature for receipt of the petrol our Sudanese lad climbed onto his bicycle and took his leave of us.
Log entry: Anson; VP524; Atbara to Khartoum; 1 hr 35 mins.
This last leg of the day's journey was uneventful – there wasn't even a sandstorm to greet us at Khartoum so we landed with ample fuel remaining despite the thirst of the port engine. After taking three days to complete what should have been an easy single day flight I handed over my aeroplane to the maintenance flight and was assured that it would be ready and serviceable for us to complete our journey to Aden the next morning. It took rather a lot of beer in the Transit Mess bar that evening to wash away the taste of all the petrol vapour we had inhaled on the Atbara airstrip.
Log entry: Anson VP524; Khartoum to Kassala (u/s port engine); 2 hours.
After an early breakfast and submission of our flight plan to Air Traffic Control we collected our Anson from the maintenance flight where it had presumably been subjected to a thorough check and remedial action to eliminate the excessive fuel consumption fault. I carried out a careful engine run-up before taxiing out for take-off and everything seemed to be functioning perfectly correct. Nothing more could be done to ascertain the serviceability of the engines so I obtained take-off clearance and took our leave of Khartoum setting an easterly course for Asmara in Eritrea where we would refuel en route to Aden.
An hour passed and everything was going well. Even the fuel consumption was checking out normal. We were beginning to look forward to the excellent creamy, white coffee, served with delicious crispy rolls which was a speciality of the Asmara airport buffet when, barely discernible, the port engine gave a slight 'cough' and the revolutions counter (tachometer) for that engine indicated a little flicker. I might not have noticed it had I not been paying very careful attention to the engines' performance in the light of my previous experience with this aeroplane. I advised my crew of the possibility of a problem but maintained my course for Asmara. Ten minutes or so passed and all seemed to be back to normal when, again, there was a splutter from the port engine with, this time, a wild fluctuation of the rev's counter. There was now no doubt that there was something really amiss with this engine and I requested Mitch to provide alternatives either for a return to Khartoum or for a diversion to a nearer airfield, if one was available in the wilderness below us.
As the oil temperature increased on the distressed engine and it continued to splutter and cut out I decided that it would be prudent to abort the flight especially as the latter part of the route necessitated climbing to clear the Eritrea mountains for the landing at Asmara. Mitch had located a landing strip at a small village named Kassala which was just short of the Sudanese/ Eritrea border so I headed for it. It proved to be a wise decision because it was not long before the port engine packed up completely and I feathered its propeller and shut it down. We completed the flight in asymmetric mode with the starboard engine doing the work of two and a consequent rise in its oil temperature, and it was a relief to carry out a single engine landing on the primitive Kassala airstrip.
Whilst we had still been airborne, Tony had once again informed Khartoum of our problem and requested assistance. The local British District Officer arrived in his Jeep and took us back to his residence where accommodation was kindly provided and he obviously enjoyed our company relieving his solitary existence. The following day airmen mechanics arrived from Khartoum and after working on the engine deemed it ready to fly again but, it then being too late to check it out, I decided to carry out an air test the following morning.
Log entry: Anson; VP524; Air test -port engine u/s; 5 minutes.
In the freshness of the early morning Tony and I walked up to the airstrip and waited a short while whilst the mechanics completed the replacement of engine cowls and removed their tools and equipment. Then, with the mechanics standing by, I carried out a ground run of the engines and satisfied myself that, as far as was possible on the ground, everything was functioning satisfactorily. So far so good, but only a successful air test would prove that the aeroplane was once again airworthy.
Accordingly, with only Tony aboard, I taxied to the end of the airstrip, carried out my 'pre take-off vital actions' with scrupulous care, turned into wind and opened up the throttles. The engines responded perfectly and we were quickly rolling along the short airstrip and picking up speed. About half way along the strip airspeed indicated it was high enough to lift off (I believe the current term is 'to rotate'). Then, without any warning that jinx of an engine suddenly cut dead. Safety speed hadn't been reached (that is the speed at which a multi engine aeroplane can continue to climb away after an engine failure). The following thoughts flashed through my mind in nanoseconds, far quicker than it takes to recount them here. I knew for sure that any attempt to throttle back the good engine and try to stop its progress would inevitably end with a pile up on some rocks at the end of the strip, and could be 'eye-watering' for Tony and myself. The alternative was to lift off at the relatively low airspeed attained which would certainly be difficult for me to apply sufficient rudder to maintain a straight course against the swing imposed by the power of the good engine whilst also trying to gain height in a slow climb. For better or worse I chose the latter as the action to take, giving us a chance to get away with our skins intact. I quickly feathered the port engine propeller, wound on as much starboard trim as was available to help counteract the swing to port, and concentrated on achieving a happy mean of airspeed providing a very gradual rate of climb, whilst allowing the 'Anson' to slowly turn to port with my right foot exerting full pressure on the starboard rudder pedal. It was a great relief to achieve a reasonable height of 500 feet (150 metres) where I could level out, reduce the power on the starboard engine and so relieve the painful pressure on my right leg. Another hazard now presented itself. The unavoidable turn had taken us perilously close to the rock outcrop that towered over the town and there was no way by which I could climb above it. However, someone must have been looking after us because we cleared it with not a lot to spare between it and our starboard wing tip. I completed the circuit and carried out a standard single engine landing, for the second time on this landing strip. As a touch of anti-climax, Tony Trewick poked his head out of his radio 'office' and enquired, with some surprise, why we had landed so soon. I'd been far too preoccupied to keep him informed and the whole episode had taken less than five minutes but recorded as five minutes in my log book.
In effect, that was the end of our adventures with this 'Anson'. The mechanics restored the port engine carburettor to its original settings, albeit also restoring the high fuel consumption but it took us back to Khartoum safely where I left the aeroplane to be properly serviced and repaired and returned to my squadron in Aden as a passenger with the Communications Flight. I did eventually collect VP524 on my way back from an Armament Practice Camp in Cyprus and completed its journey by flying it to Aden some two months later on the 11th September 1950 after what should have been a two day journey.