A VIP Flight
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In October 1942, I was still based in Aden when a rumour circulated that a special trip to Addis Abbaba was in the offing. My crew and I were all NCOs at the time, so I wasn’t even slightly excited or hopeful about the trip. It was an officer’s plum for sure. On being called to the Wing Commander’s office, I couldn’t believe my ears when he told me to collect my crew and report for a briefing. ‘You are going to Addis Abbaba to deliver a VIP back to Aden’, he said. I stood open-mouthed. My jaw must have been around my toes as I left the office.
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My next difficulty was to convince my crew that I wasn’t having them on. We didn’t get airborne until about 1600 hours, and as night facilities at the destination were non-existent, we overnighted at Jig Jiga in Abyssinia, near the border of Somalia.
Departing early next morning, we arrived at Addis about breakfast time. We were flying a Blenheim IV, and this was the first time that an aircraft with any significant wing loading (the ratio of the gross weight of the aircraft to the wing area) was to land at Addis. During the briefing, there was scant information about the airfield, apart from the fact that it was over 7 000 feet above sea level and that the runway fell away sharply at each end. Leaving the aircraft after a satisfactory landing, I was wearing a sweater and no cap, so there were no indications of my rank. My crew, who were exhibiting their NCO chevrons, were eased to the side, and a French Army captain threw me the snappiest salute you ever did see. Naturally, I kept my sweater on until he had disappeared from the scene.
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We were driven in a convoy of cars to meet our VIP, A.W. Besse, at his residence. He introduced me to his wife who was also to travel with us, and set up a breakfast such as we hadn't seen for years.
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Mr. Besse requested that his personal native servant of many years standing accompany us on our trip back to Aden. The rules were that indigenous civilians were not to be carried in service aircraft without proper documentation, so I informed Mr Besse of that regulation. I remember his reply vividly. He placed his hand on my shoulder, and said ‘My boy, if anyone tried to make trouble for you, I will personally see Mr. Hards’. Because “Mr. Hards” was Air Vice Marshal Hards, Flight Sergeant Edwards immediately agreed to his request.
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The reason for the flight was related to Mr. Besse’s health. He wanted treatment from his doctor in Aden. He travelled in the cockpit. His wife (a charming lady) and the servant travelled in the fuselage. Although we made her as comfortable as possible, the flight of about four hours must have been arduous for her. A couple of weeks later she sent me a present. What a present it was – a case of oranges! Where on earth could they have come from for delivery in wartime Aden?? About a year later, when (Vichy French) Djibouti capitulated, the Royal Navytransported Mr. Besse to the province in a destroyer. He certainly had plenty of ‘clout. ~ Ron Edwards