A walk in the Sahara
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2022 5:14 pm
One of my uncles was Wellington pilot in the Middle East in 1942. He crash landed in the desert after an engine failure, was taken prisoner and in due course took up reidence in Stag Luft 3. He took part in the Great Escape and had the good fortune survive. My cousin has just come across some descriptions of his experiences. The first, written in the 3rd person is follows in 2 parts since it is longer than the 10,000 characters allowed per post.
Desert Landing
On September 18th 1942, a pilot was peering into the darkness of the Western Desert approximately 50 miles South of Sollum. The port wing and fuselage of the aircraft were blazing and the port motor was out of action. The other crew members had already left by parachute, but he had been unable to follow as the aircraft was too near the ground. The next two seconds preceding the crash landing seemed to last as many years.
Hurriedly collecting dingy rations and the large navigator’s compass he raced away from the burning aircraft through the pilot’s escape hatch. As the fire spread to the fuel tanks there was a loud explosion and the bombs that he had been unable to release blew up. The pilot fell flat on his face as parts of the aircraft whistled overhead, His only remaining transport was his legs and his destination was El Alamein at least 250 miles East.
Sitting down on the desert he took stock of his possessions. A khaki battledress and shirt, suede crepe sole desert boots, which, although comfortable, were not ideal for long walks; dinghy rations, consisting of 4 tins of tomato juice (“Cool before serving”), dried milk tablets, Benzedrine tablets, water purifying tablets, a torch, a .38 revolver with 6 rounds of ammunition and, by far the most useful item, a half-litre water bottle on the revolver belt. He had a very small compass in his pocket but the large navigator’s compass taken from the aircraft was too heavy to carry, so it had to be abandoned together with the Very cartridge and sea markers.
Using compass and stars as a guide he headed East to be well away from the remains of the aircraft before dawn. The night was cold in a desert more stony than sandy. Walking was difficult but he made good progress. As the sun rose the scorching heat compelled rest, but without shade the hot sun made sleep almost impossible. Amazing as it may seem, he was tormented by flies, though where they came from, or what they used for food was a mystery. They were the only form of life he saw for 7 days. Nothing but desert, the flies and him, no humans, no animals, no birds, no vegetable growth and no water. Just the sun in the daytime and the stars at night. Walking through the night, he occasionally heard aircraft on their way to and from Tobruk. Signalling forlornly to them with a torch evoked no answer,
8
A tin of tomato juice and a few drops of water were used each day but, as the supply of liquid was running low on the 4th day he headed north towards the coast. He was further South than he had estimated and finally the water and juice were gone. In a desperate effort to reach the sea he took all the Benzedrine tablets and walked in the heat of the sun until he passed out by some posts which had been visible on the horizon, and proved to be a telegraph line, the first sign of civilisation seen for nearly a week. Recovering consciousness in the evening with the fall in temperature, he had a splitting headache and a desperate thirst. Lips and tongue were swollen and felt like pieces of hard leather.
The telegraph line across the desert had been erected by the British, but it was possible the Germans were using it. Too exhausted to walk any further he cut down the stays of several posts, pulled down the line and cut it, hoping that someone would be sent to investigate and incidentally bring water. Nobody came, but one feature about this telegraph line probably saved his life. Several 4 gallon metal petrol tins had been abandoned along the line. Collecting several of these he split them open like the petals of a flower. During the night little drops of moisture condensed on to the cold metal and by licking the rusty tins he obtained sufficient water to keep alive. Thus, passed 3 days and three nights. He felt stronger but could not carry the tins or move from the meagre, but precious, water supply. During this time 3 M.E. 109 aircraft passed low overhead. He waved and fired a revolver, but if they saw him they took no notice.
At sunset on the seventh day something moved against the setting sun on the horizon. Hurriedly packing his few possessions, he set off to intercept. 2 hours later he came across a herd of 50 young camels and one Arab driving them slowly across the desert. He gave the pilot a drink, a unique experience with such a thirst, but as the water reached his empty stomach he suffered violent pains. By now, the camels were moving on and as the Arab had to keep them together he had to do so too. Not daring to lose touch with either the Arab or his water supply, the pilot staggered along behind. The pains gradually diminished and the water revived him sufficiently to keep in touch more easily. Apparently young camels follow a leader camel and when the leader lays down the rest follow suit. This happened about midnight and the two of them were soon in the centre of a large circle of squatting camels. A fire was lit with some camel thorn and the Arab made bread with flour and water which he baked in the ashes of the fire. They had an excellent meal of fresh bread, sour goat’s milk and water. They slept amongst the camels with a blanket over them. It was his first good sleep for eight days. At dawn, they were on their way East, towards a water hole. How the Arab navigated is uncertain, but the camels seemed to be able to home on the water supply and strung out into a long line with the Arab at the end. The pilot kept them comfortably in sight but sufficiently far away to avoid any Germans that might intercept them. About midday they arrived at a small Arab encampment alongside a well, which was flask shaped with a narrow neck some 3 feet in diameter but
9
increasing to 12 feet. The lay-out of this well was carefully studied for future reference. There seemed to be no particular reason for it to have been dug at that particular spot. There was, however, a mound of the excavated earth alongside and this became a useful landmark in locating subsequent wells (mostly dry). Two Arabs were squatting above it using goatskin bags on long ropes for drawing water which they emptied into rough troughs from which the camels were drinking, The pilot joined the two Arabs with a rusty tin can and drank until full. The water was no doubt filthy, but never tasted better.
Later in the afternoon an Arab boy took the pilot to an encampment some distance away where he was treated with great courtesy. He was shown into a tent with rugs on the floor, and saddles along the sides, which proved comfortable for reclining. The tent sides were open at the eaves, giving shade but allowing plenty of air to circulate. The occupants were an Arab chief and his sons. The veiled wife was hard at work in an adjoining tent and kept herself discreetly out of sight. The Arab chief had lost a hand and a foot as a result of German bombing. They talked in limited Arabic and he asked them for help to get back to the British lines which entailed about 14 days walk. Though they were anxious to help, it was too far and too dangerous for them to offer guides. During the entire conversation, the youngest son was kept busy supplying drinks of water to satisfy the guest’s insatiable thirst, The Arab insisted that it was too dangerous to stay in their camp, for the Germans would wipe out the whole encampment if a British pilot was found there. They agreed to supply two additional water bottles and a haversack filled with biscuits (British Army issue, but no questions were asked as to their source). An assurance was given that to the East there were friendly Arabs and water. After the experiences of the previous week he was a little sceptical but had no choice. Unable to repay these Arabs for their kindness he left them a letter commending them to any British unit which they might meet. At sunset, he bade them goodbye and set off again to the East.
Desert Landing
On September 18th 1942, a pilot was peering into the darkness of the Western Desert approximately 50 miles South of Sollum. The port wing and fuselage of the aircraft were blazing and the port motor was out of action. The other crew members had already left by parachute, but he had been unable to follow as the aircraft was too near the ground. The next two seconds preceding the crash landing seemed to last as many years.
Hurriedly collecting dingy rations and the large navigator’s compass he raced away from the burning aircraft through the pilot’s escape hatch. As the fire spread to the fuel tanks there was a loud explosion and the bombs that he had been unable to release blew up. The pilot fell flat on his face as parts of the aircraft whistled overhead, His only remaining transport was his legs and his destination was El Alamein at least 250 miles East.
Sitting down on the desert he took stock of his possessions. A khaki battledress and shirt, suede crepe sole desert boots, which, although comfortable, were not ideal for long walks; dinghy rations, consisting of 4 tins of tomato juice (“Cool before serving”), dried milk tablets, Benzedrine tablets, water purifying tablets, a torch, a .38 revolver with 6 rounds of ammunition and, by far the most useful item, a half-litre water bottle on the revolver belt. He had a very small compass in his pocket but the large navigator’s compass taken from the aircraft was too heavy to carry, so it had to be abandoned together with the Very cartridge and sea markers.
Using compass and stars as a guide he headed East to be well away from the remains of the aircraft before dawn. The night was cold in a desert more stony than sandy. Walking was difficult but he made good progress. As the sun rose the scorching heat compelled rest, but without shade the hot sun made sleep almost impossible. Amazing as it may seem, he was tormented by flies, though where they came from, or what they used for food was a mystery. They were the only form of life he saw for 7 days. Nothing but desert, the flies and him, no humans, no animals, no birds, no vegetable growth and no water. Just the sun in the daytime and the stars at night. Walking through the night, he occasionally heard aircraft on their way to and from Tobruk. Signalling forlornly to them with a torch evoked no answer,
8
A tin of tomato juice and a few drops of water were used each day but, as the supply of liquid was running low on the 4th day he headed north towards the coast. He was further South than he had estimated and finally the water and juice were gone. In a desperate effort to reach the sea he took all the Benzedrine tablets and walked in the heat of the sun until he passed out by some posts which had been visible on the horizon, and proved to be a telegraph line, the first sign of civilisation seen for nearly a week. Recovering consciousness in the evening with the fall in temperature, he had a splitting headache and a desperate thirst. Lips and tongue were swollen and felt like pieces of hard leather.
The telegraph line across the desert had been erected by the British, but it was possible the Germans were using it. Too exhausted to walk any further he cut down the stays of several posts, pulled down the line and cut it, hoping that someone would be sent to investigate and incidentally bring water. Nobody came, but one feature about this telegraph line probably saved his life. Several 4 gallon metal petrol tins had been abandoned along the line. Collecting several of these he split them open like the petals of a flower. During the night little drops of moisture condensed on to the cold metal and by licking the rusty tins he obtained sufficient water to keep alive. Thus, passed 3 days and three nights. He felt stronger but could not carry the tins or move from the meagre, but precious, water supply. During this time 3 M.E. 109 aircraft passed low overhead. He waved and fired a revolver, but if they saw him they took no notice.
At sunset on the seventh day something moved against the setting sun on the horizon. Hurriedly packing his few possessions, he set off to intercept. 2 hours later he came across a herd of 50 young camels and one Arab driving them slowly across the desert. He gave the pilot a drink, a unique experience with such a thirst, but as the water reached his empty stomach he suffered violent pains. By now, the camels were moving on and as the Arab had to keep them together he had to do so too. Not daring to lose touch with either the Arab or his water supply, the pilot staggered along behind. The pains gradually diminished and the water revived him sufficiently to keep in touch more easily. Apparently young camels follow a leader camel and when the leader lays down the rest follow suit. This happened about midnight and the two of them were soon in the centre of a large circle of squatting camels. A fire was lit with some camel thorn and the Arab made bread with flour and water which he baked in the ashes of the fire. They had an excellent meal of fresh bread, sour goat’s milk and water. They slept amongst the camels with a blanket over them. It was his first good sleep for eight days. At dawn, they were on their way East, towards a water hole. How the Arab navigated is uncertain, but the camels seemed to be able to home on the water supply and strung out into a long line with the Arab at the end. The pilot kept them comfortably in sight but sufficiently far away to avoid any Germans that might intercept them. About midday they arrived at a small Arab encampment alongside a well, which was flask shaped with a narrow neck some 3 feet in diameter but
9
increasing to 12 feet. The lay-out of this well was carefully studied for future reference. There seemed to be no particular reason for it to have been dug at that particular spot. There was, however, a mound of the excavated earth alongside and this became a useful landmark in locating subsequent wells (mostly dry). Two Arabs were squatting above it using goatskin bags on long ropes for drawing water which they emptied into rough troughs from which the camels were drinking, The pilot joined the two Arabs with a rusty tin can and drank until full. The water was no doubt filthy, but never tasted better.
Later in the afternoon an Arab boy took the pilot to an encampment some distance away where he was treated with great courtesy. He was shown into a tent with rugs on the floor, and saddles along the sides, which proved comfortable for reclining. The tent sides were open at the eaves, giving shade but allowing plenty of air to circulate. The occupants were an Arab chief and his sons. The veiled wife was hard at work in an adjoining tent and kept herself discreetly out of sight. The Arab chief had lost a hand and a foot as a result of German bombing. They talked in limited Arabic and he asked them for help to get back to the British lines which entailed about 14 days walk. Though they were anxious to help, it was too far and too dangerous for them to offer guides. During the entire conversation, the youngest son was kept busy supplying drinks of water to satisfy the guest’s insatiable thirst, The Arab insisted that it was too dangerous to stay in their camp, for the Germans would wipe out the whole encampment if a British pilot was found there. They agreed to supply two additional water bottles and a haversack filled with biscuits (British Army issue, but no questions were asked as to their source). An assurance was given that to the East there were friendly Arabs and water. After the experiences of the previous week he was a little sceptical but had no choice. Unable to repay these Arabs for their kindness he left them a letter commending them to any British unit which they might meet. At sunset, he bade them goodbye and set off again to the East.