“Getting down proved to
be a tricky operation because of the sea that was running, but it was
done without any damage to the aircraft. But the danger to Kirke’s
aircraft now was that he was drifting towards the shore - these little
flying boats, when not powered up, drifted very quickly if the wind
caught them. Before alighting on the water the radio man sent a signal
(this was before the days of voice radio) advising of their
predicament. Immediately, two other Walrus’ took off from Stornoway to
see what help, if any, could be given.
“Lt. Joliffe, a Royal
Marine officer, flew one of the aircraft that was despatched and I flew
the other one. We soon found the downed Walrus and it was very clear to
us that he would soon be on the rocks at Port of Ness. The aircraft
crew meantime were safe, although doubtless apprehensive. Before
take-off Joliffe had said that he would alight and try and take Kirke’s
aircraft in tow - an operation which was thought unlikely to succeed.
We both circled around with no communication before Joliffe decided to
go down.
“Unfortunately, because
of the rough sea conditions, the Walrus couldn’t take it and broke up.
Joliffe had to abandon the aircraft, but I saw that he and his crew were
safely aboard their rubber dinghy. All six – the two crews - were set
fair to drift ashore; one aircraft lost, another about to be. What was
to be done? It seemed that it would all be over in about 10 minutes
time, and I could do nothing to help. So I continued to circle and
watch what appeared to be an inevitable disaster unfolding below me. As
expected, Kirke’s aircraft eventually foundered on the rocks at Port of
Ness and sank very rapidly. I could see it under the water. The crew
scrambled ashore and all appeared safe.
“Because there didn’t
seem to be anybody about who witnessed the Walrus foundering, I decided
at this point to land somewhere to try and give assistance, such as I
could, but there didn’t seem to be anywhere suitable close at hand. So
I chose a small field - and it did look small too! But I knew that I
was flying into a strong wind and therefore my landing run could be very
short. I believed tha I had a good chance of getting away with it.
“I made a good approach
and managed to get down. I thought to myself that I was going to make
it; there was plenty of room. I applied my brakes - nothing happened -
terrible feeling - and we went into a fairly deep ditch at the end of
the field. Fortunately, nobody was hurt and the aircraft was
undamaged. We were very lucky, but I felt “a proper Charlie”: yet
another Walrus out of action anyway for the time being - representing
half the establishment at Stornoway. In the event myself and my crew,
Midshipman Welford and Naval Airman Stanesby, didn’t need to assist the
other two crews as they had made it safely to shore. Road transport was
arranged to take them back to base, wet and dispirited.
“I remained at Port of
Ness to look after ‘The Ozard of Wiz’ until the following Wednesday -
17th October - when a salvage team arrived. With sheer manpower we
managed to lift the aircraft out of the ditch. The wings were then
folded and we towed the aircraft back to the machair [grassland area on
coastal sandy plain] near the Butt of Lewis. The wings were extended,
the engine started and she was flown back to base.
“This Walrus was
subsequently turned in for overhaul in January 1941 after many flying
hours while we were based for the Winter at Sullom Voe in Shetland -
still looking for submarines.