Post by Dave Homewood on Jun 24, 2021 23:54:37 GMT 12
FLIERS’ ORDEAL
PILOT FROM PUKEATUA
FORCED LANDING MADE
CAPTURED BY NATIVES
(United press Assn Elec Tel Copyright) Special Correspondent; (Received March 11, 3 p.m.) LONDON, March 10
Fourteen hundred miles out from Gibraltar on a flight to Bathurst last July Flight-Sergeant E. G. Rhodes, of Pukeatua, suddenly heard the steady purr of his Hudson’s engines begin to jarr. That changed note was to mean a long time in an internment camp on the banks of the river Niger for him, his Australian navigator, and two English wireless operator-air gunners.
Rhodes checked up and found the starboard oil pump out of action without warning. He had to cut out the engine and then do some quick thinking, for the heavily-laden Hudson began to descend rapidly toward the sea. He immediately turned in to the African coast and jettisoned 300 gallons of petrol to help lighten the aircraft and keep it flying. With 130 gallons he decided to attempt to reach Bathurst and by-pass Dakar, in preference to going to Saint Louis or make a forced landing in the desert.
Soon the Hudson was flying low over the desert. It was touch and go whether it could keep in the air on one engine, but Rhodes, although he had already been flying for twelve hours, hung on patiently. Then the desert began to turn to malaria swampland.
Landing Among Mangroves
Rhodes was looking down on it rather distastefully when the roar of the heavily overloaded port engine suddenly stopped. It had cut out and in an atmosphere of horrible whistling of the air rushing round the aircraft Rhodes had to decide where he was going to make a forced landing. We sighted a sandbank among the mangroves. With the undercarriage retracted he made a perfect landing so that no member of the crew was even bruised.
For a few moments the crew heard nothing but the hot engine sizzling in the water. They checked up and found that no one was hurt. Then the Australian navigator called out. “There is a horde of blacks coming.” Rhodes looked out and saw natives dashing up, waving hatchets. They clustered around the aircraft and he got out, stood on the fuselage, and tried to talk to them in French and English, without result. Then followed a nightmarish period. The natives seemed friendly despite their weapons. They jabbered excitedly while the crew collected the navigator’s compass, water, and iron rations, and Rhodes detonated the secret instruments and set fire to the Hudson. Soon a swarm of canoes collected and by signs members of the crew got in one and went to a village.
Attempted Escape Fails
It was only two days since they were living in a peaceful English countryside, and now after a long flight, weary and bemused by the heat and the babble of the natives, they were rather dazed and certainly did not appreciate their reception in the village, where the natives shouted, danced, jumped and ran round them, intending to be helpful but only getting in the way and adding to the confusion.
Rhodes tried to buy a canoe in order to escape the French, whom he guessed would probably arrive shortly, but the natives had no intention of letting them go, as a messenger had already returned from the French camp with a promise of 1000 francs for each member of the crew if held until the French arrived. They were given a hut and at midnight, when the excitement had died down the natives slept. Rhodes crept out and in bright moonlight selected a canoe for the escape. He was returning to the hut for his companions when he saw French soldiers. , That was the end of their hopes of escape.
The French treated them politely and firmly and took them in a launch to a small township where the residents sent them two bottles of gin. They were taken to Kaolack, on the River Sal, in Senegal, where they remained for a fortnight.
Fever and Snakes
The French tried in devious ways to extract information from them, the men once starting a conversation over a bottle of champagne. There followed a 42-hour train journey in a guard’s van with four black guards to Koulikoro, on the river Niger. They were taken to an internment camp, where they lived uncomfortably. Sometimes they had fever and sometimes they found snakes in their rooms and killed them. The food was poor, but the French were poorly provided for themselves.
They had no letters from home, and no radio, but Rhodes heard that two other New Zealanders were interned at Bamako, also on the Niger. He wrote to them. They were Flying-Officers Rex Mcllraith, of Lower Hutt, and Cecil Todd, of Palmerston North. They had been attacked by French fighters when flying a Wellington bomber 40 miles out to sea past Dakar—thereby complying with international regulations. The French attack resulted in their making a forced landing on the shore. Rhodes eventually met them in Gambia after the Anglo-American landing in North Africa. They all went to England in the same ship. They are now on leave in London, with definite opinions about snakes and fever in the tropics.
WAIKATO TIMES, 11 MARCH 1943
PILOT FROM PUKEATUA
FORCED LANDING MADE
CAPTURED BY NATIVES
(United press Assn Elec Tel Copyright) Special Correspondent; (Received March 11, 3 p.m.) LONDON, March 10
Fourteen hundred miles out from Gibraltar on a flight to Bathurst last July Flight-Sergeant E. G. Rhodes, of Pukeatua, suddenly heard the steady purr of his Hudson’s engines begin to jarr. That changed note was to mean a long time in an internment camp on the banks of the river Niger for him, his Australian navigator, and two English wireless operator-air gunners.
Rhodes checked up and found the starboard oil pump out of action without warning. He had to cut out the engine and then do some quick thinking, for the heavily-laden Hudson began to descend rapidly toward the sea. He immediately turned in to the African coast and jettisoned 300 gallons of petrol to help lighten the aircraft and keep it flying. With 130 gallons he decided to attempt to reach Bathurst and by-pass Dakar, in preference to going to Saint Louis or make a forced landing in the desert.
Soon the Hudson was flying low over the desert. It was touch and go whether it could keep in the air on one engine, but Rhodes, although he had already been flying for twelve hours, hung on patiently. Then the desert began to turn to malaria swampland.
Landing Among Mangroves
Rhodes was looking down on it rather distastefully when the roar of the heavily overloaded port engine suddenly stopped. It had cut out and in an atmosphere of horrible whistling of the air rushing round the aircraft Rhodes had to decide where he was going to make a forced landing. We sighted a sandbank among the mangroves. With the undercarriage retracted he made a perfect landing so that no member of the crew was even bruised.
For a few moments the crew heard nothing but the hot engine sizzling in the water. They checked up and found that no one was hurt. Then the Australian navigator called out. “There is a horde of blacks coming.” Rhodes looked out and saw natives dashing up, waving hatchets. They clustered around the aircraft and he got out, stood on the fuselage, and tried to talk to them in French and English, without result. Then followed a nightmarish period. The natives seemed friendly despite their weapons. They jabbered excitedly while the crew collected the navigator’s compass, water, and iron rations, and Rhodes detonated the secret instruments and set fire to the Hudson. Soon a swarm of canoes collected and by signs members of the crew got in one and went to a village.
Attempted Escape Fails
It was only two days since they were living in a peaceful English countryside, and now after a long flight, weary and bemused by the heat and the babble of the natives, they were rather dazed and certainly did not appreciate their reception in the village, where the natives shouted, danced, jumped and ran round them, intending to be helpful but only getting in the way and adding to the confusion.
Rhodes tried to buy a canoe in order to escape the French, whom he guessed would probably arrive shortly, but the natives had no intention of letting them go, as a messenger had already returned from the French camp with a promise of 1000 francs for each member of the crew if held until the French arrived. They were given a hut and at midnight, when the excitement had died down the natives slept. Rhodes crept out and in bright moonlight selected a canoe for the escape. He was returning to the hut for his companions when he saw French soldiers. , That was the end of their hopes of escape.
The French treated them politely and firmly and took them in a launch to a small township where the residents sent them two bottles of gin. They were taken to Kaolack, on the River Sal, in Senegal, where they remained for a fortnight.
Fever and Snakes
The French tried in devious ways to extract information from them, the men once starting a conversation over a bottle of champagne. There followed a 42-hour train journey in a guard’s van with four black guards to Koulikoro, on the river Niger. They were taken to an internment camp, where they lived uncomfortably. Sometimes they had fever and sometimes they found snakes in their rooms and killed them. The food was poor, but the French were poorly provided for themselves.
They had no letters from home, and no radio, but Rhodes heard that two other New Zealanders were interned at Bamako, also on the Niger. He wrote to them. They were Flying-Officers Rex Mcllraith, of Lower Hutt, and Cecil Todd, of Palmerston North. They had been attacked by French fighters when flying a Wellington bomber 40 miles out to sea past Dakar—thereby complying with international regulations. The French attack resulted in their making a forced landing on the shore. Rhodes eventually met them in Gambia after the Anglo-American landing in North Africa. They all went to England in the same ship. They are now on leave in London, with definite opinions about snakes and fever in the tropics.
WAIKATO TIMES, 11 MARCH 1943
