MY RECOLLECTIONS OF OUR TWO MEMORABLE TRIPS

By F/Sgt Gordon Shawcross

Postwar Liberator flights with 355 Squadron

Sept.2, 1945

(The plane was KP140, which was flown by the crew to India from Dorval. We bailed out of this one over the Sundarbans, I was picked up at 22:12N 89:37E.)

Base to Jessore: Jessore to Thakhek. P.O.W. camp not found. Supplies not dropped. Course for base set. Three things went wrong, LORAN equipment went u.s; gas from bombay tanks not transferred to wing tanks correctly; M/F D/F station couldn’t be raised. Order for bail out not given on correct intercom position so W.O.P. (me) didn’t know until Ken Watson came to waist position and told him he had to bail out, to which he said "Don’t be so bloody silly". Ken said "Lift your headset off" and in doing this no engines could be heard, just a swishing sound through the air. Maginot? the other W.O.P. had disappeared into the wild blue yonder without even saying good bye. An S.O.S. was sent with the nearest position within a 50 mile radius, key clamped down; parachute slipped into position and rear hatch lifted.

At this time, Ken wanted to know how to go out through the small hole in the floor. "Face stern, ball up, go out head first". His next request was "show me" so I obliged.

16 Sept. 1945.

Blackburn

Watson

Lynch

Lamb

McGowan

Parrish

Shawcross

If there was another crew member I cannot recall his name.

(The plane was KN780; crash site approx. 16:30N 96:50E on marsh east of Rangoon.)

Base to Saigon airport for supply dropping. Before dropping any supplies waist window was removed for Aldis lamp signalling. Parachute cannisters dropped O.K. Rear hatch lifted for dead drops on runway, Don Lamb came back to assist in pushing out the bales which landed successfully. The waist window had to be replaced and not being a good "replacer" of waist windows I "goofed" the slipstream caught the window and not wishing to be charged with the loss of R.A.F. property I hung on only to have my right arm hit the sill, result a dislocated elbow. Don Lamb very graciously and with much glee injected morphine for the pain. I then went very peacefully to sleep on blankets in the waist position. Great stuff this morphine.

Much later I opened my eyes and saw a red flash over the tail unit. Were we on fire?

Getting to my feet I plugged into the intercom to find out what had happened. The red flash had been a flare fired from the aircraft because the air strip at Pegu was clouded in and no way could a landing be made there. The remarks being made by the rest of the crew about what should be done didn’t amuse me at all. Let’s bail out. What about Shawcross? Tie a static cord to his rip cord and push him out the bomb bay. My remark to this was " not on your Nellie" or words to that effect, "we are near the coast let’s ditch towards shore" Some more discussion must have been carried on "up front" because Don Lamb and Jock McGowan came to the waist position and the three of us took up a prone position me in the middle with our feet braced against a bulk head.

This next is supposition on my part. Tom made a low level run into shore with landing lights on, saw there was a marsh beyond the shore, made a turn to port, came round and lined up to land on the marsh. A great landing only the port outer prop bent slightly, "what a pilot".

When landing liquid had drenched the three of us in the waist position thought it was gas and made for a quick exit. I had my left leg on the sill but wasn’t moving fast enough for Jock, this was remedied by his shoulder under my backside and I flew thru’ the air to land in water up to my knees. It was decided the plane was not going to blow up so we took up various positions for some shut eye. Another shot of morphine for me from the gleeful Don de Sade.

Next morning we saw a crowd of Burmese natives approaching making many remarks which none of us could understand, possibly telling us to sod off so they could start stripping the plane. Another snippet comes to mind, Jock Parrish trying to inflate the balloon to take up the aerial for the Gibson Girl, only succeeded in putting a hole in it from the acetylene powder. It was decided that I had to get to a hospital so along with Jock McGowan the natives took us by river to an R.A.F. radar unit at Thongwa. Before leaving another shot gleefully injected. I think this needle sticking was becoming something of a pleasure to de Sade but not to the recipient.

At Thongwa no M.O. so one from an Indian regiment was called in, he couldn’t do anything but give me another shot, not gleefully because I think he wanted it for himself. Some one at Thongwa called up Syriam the nearest hospital and lo and behold all the crew were there after being picked up by an A.S.R. Sunderland. The Syriam M.O. along with Tom, Ken and Don all loaded for bear because of dacoits in the area, came to pick up the two sorry so and so’s who should have stayed with the aircraft. Back at Syriam stayed over night, next morning on boat across the inlet to Rangoon #60 M.F.H., where about 2p.m. 18^th Sept. forty eight hour after the accident the elbow was reduced. I have a hazy recollection of some of the crew visiting but with the amount of morphine and pentothal in my system it could have been the Magi.

After ten days in Rangoon I was transferred to 27 B.G.H. in Calcutta for further treatment how I got there is another story, quite funny but rather long winded.

When I arrived back at 355 Squadron the crew had been split up, the R.A.F. thought that the loss of two planes in two weeks was two too many. I think by this time Tom you had left for parts unknown and I didn’t see you again. Ken and Don I saw briefly just before they went back to England. From then on I did sfa, I didn’t fly again no crew wanted a Jonah and all I was interested in was the magic number. This came up in August ’46 returned on the Georgic from Bombay to Liverpool very pleased to be in one piece and ready to pick up my life again a rather hectic one ‘til I married in Dec. 1947.