How To Visit One Of The Most Remote Airfields In The World, Cocos Island.

RNZAF Hanley Page Hastings C3 HP67 on the dispersal area at Cocos Island

The RNZAF in 1960's held exercises in Singapore once a year. At this time 14 Sqn was flying English Electric Canbera B[i] 12 bombers.

We were to be transported to and from Singapore by Douglas DC 6 ‘s

From Ohakea to Amberley, near Brisbane, Australia, to Darwin for an overnight stay, to Singapore the next day.

The DC6’s were ex TEAL [became Air New Zealand] and were luxurious compared to the canvas seats that most of the other transport aircraft had.

They were still done out as the civilian transporters that they had originally been.

At the time there was a problem with the engines and the DC6’s were given the name of “the best 2 or 3 engined aircraft in the world”.

We managed to arrive with all the engines still working, spent 6 or 7 weeks on the exercise, packed up ready to come home.

We were accommodated on the middle floor of one of the barracks blocks. Each of the blocks was named after a V.C. [Victoria Cross] winner. A VC is the top award for bravery in the Commonwealth Countries.

It was appropriate we were in Ward Block [Sgt Ward had been copilot on a 75 NZ Sqn Wellington returning from an attack on Munster when fire broke out on the Starboard wing.

Sgt Ward climbed out of the aircraft, in flight, and managed to smother the flames, then crawl back into the aircraft. He was killed in action less than two months later]

There was room for about 70 of us with spare room on our floor.

We had an early boarding call of 6.0 am, lined up on the runway, took off, did a circuit and landed. One of the engines had decided it had had enough of being good, so it stopped.

The crew did an engine change, 2 or 3 days, while we were able to wander all around Singapore, swim and keep our liquids up.

Slot cars were the ‘in’ toy, and a lot of the guys had bought track and cars to take home and play with.

We didn’t know how long we would be there so the proud owners got their track out and it was almost long enough to run the full length of the barracks.

The cars were set down and started at one end of the track, full speed to the other end, which was just over the edge of the balcony.

It is surprising how far a slot car at terminal velocity will fly from the second story onto the grass down below.

Then another 6.00 am start, we took off, all 4 engines were still working, so we headed towards Darwin.
About 2 hours out, we turned around and went back to Singapore on 3 engines again.

Looking out the windows and seeing a wreck like this just left on the side of the runway didn’t really help the nerves much.

Another engine change was required. But there wasn’t any left in Singapore, so we had to wait for a replacement engine to be flown from New Zealand.

By this time our accommodation had been required so we were moved to Changi Airfield, where the RNZAF had 41sqn operating Bristol Freighters.

Their HQ [Head Quarters] was on the end of one of the main runways, built by the prisoners of war during the Japanese occupation of Singapore.

The mesh the aircraft are standing on is ‘Marsdon Matting’ left over from and laid just after the end of the war.

It was at least fifteen years old and still as good as when it was laid.

These were built at right angles to the prevailing winds, to cause as many crashes as possible among the Japanese aircraft.

We were accommodated directly above the Airmen’s Mess [dining room]

Because the RAF [Royal Air Force] would not waste anything, they were still serving reconstituted potato from the end of the war, and it tasted like it too.

Part of the Changi rules were that you had to have at least one salt pill with each meal. This was to replace the salt lost in the sweat of the day.

The Base also had a Malcolm Club where we were introduced to ‘chip banjo’ [a buttered slice of bread filled with chips [French fries for the US] and a jam rolly poly [a buttered slice of bread rolled around a thick piece of jam. [jelly for the US].

The Malcolm Club had a juke box and the RAF guys kept playing one particular song.

One of the Maori guys asked, politely that they change the song occasionally, with no reaction.

Another beer, and the request was made again, a bit louder and more forcefully. Again there was no reaction.

Once more he made the request, ending with the suggestion if they didn’t change the record, he would.

No reaction.

So he went over to the juke box, wrapped his arms around it and carried it out to the balcony. A bit of a grunt and the juke box was having its first and last flight, down a floor to land on the concrete surrounds below.

He turned to the RAF guys, "I told you to change songs, you wouldn’t, so I changed it for you”. [or something similar]

He was banned from the Malcolm club for the rest of the time we were there.

Another ‘last night feed/beer’ as we were off tomorrow. Unfortunately, about 11.00 pm my stomach said “ I am sick, go to medical”.

So off to medical I went with both ends trying to do their thing together, only to wait for the nurse to finish his cup of tea, and then send me to the hospital for observation.

The RAF/Army/Navy had an eight storied main hospital that was being finished off, most of the wards were in use.

They serviced the needs of all the services in the Singapore/ Malay area, including the wives.

Next morning, feeling O K I told the nurses I was ready to go and catch my aeroplane home, when the Sister showed up she replied “You Aren’t going anywhere“. And I went straight into the operating theater, to be opened up.

They had diagnosed me with Peritonitis.

Fourteen stitches later I woke up in a strange, long room, surrounded by U K Navy types, who thought it was fun to tell jokes to watch the Kiwi fold over like a pocket knife, holding his stomach, tears rolling down his face.

The same blokes had started calling me an Aussie. To a Kiwi that is like calling an American a Mexican, or a Scot a Pom.

The RNZAF had a Squadron of Bristol Freighters at Changi and the lads would drop in and help pass the time away.

One of them, [he became my brother in law for a while later], was an Aircraft Finisher [Painter] and had access to large sheets of Day Glo” orange sticky paper, [Bright orange, sticky paper that will stick to whatever you stick it to, up to speeds of 300 mph.]

He cut out a two foot high Kiwi and stuck it to the wall above my bed.

“Use your [red coloured liquid] eyes, he’s a Kiwi” to the other patients.

The staff were good about it and allowed it to stay.

Two days later it was Matron Rounds, there were lots of looks from the staff. Do we ask him to take the Kiwi down? Do we let it stay?

While they were dithering it, suddenly it was Matron’s Round time.

We who could stand stood at the foot of the bed as near to the position of attention as we could manage, those who were bedridden laid at attention.

Matron came round the corner, stopped, and carried on straight to me, “Are you a Kiwi?"

“Yes Matron”

Come to my office at 3pm,” and away she went.

At 3 pm I knocked at Matron’s Office door and was invited in.

“I did my training at Palmerston North Hospital”, she said and called out for afternoon tea. [Palmerston North is a city approximately 30 minutes drive from Ohakea.]

A couple of hours later when we had finished reminiscing and telling yarns, I went back to the ward, the staff there treated me like I walked on water.

Someone who was called into Matron’s Office and didn’t come out with certain parts well chewed was a miracle.

I didn’t tell them why, just basked in the glory.

10 days later I was discharged, and attached to 41 Sqn. This was for recording purposes. They had no pay details so they didn’t pay me while I was there. I wasn’t familiar with their aircraft so was unable to work on them.

The guys really looked after me, loaning me a bit of money for day to day expenses.

I didn’t meet up with some of the kind loaners until years later, I was only too pleased to add interest to the repayment of the loans the guys made while I was there,

Eventually a Hanley Page Hastings C3 HP 67 arrived to take the two DC6 engines and the retiring Engineering Officer and his family back to New Zealand.

The Hastings was approaching maximum load, but as I was pretty skinny those days, and had very little hand luggage, after a quick weigh in I was also added to the freight.

Because Indonesia had stopped all other countries military flying through its airspace, we were routed from Singapore to Cocus Island - a fly spot on the map N W from Australia,- where we overnighted.

We were put into good accommodation, used for the occasional civilian flight doing the same route we were flying.

Put our bags into the rooms and went to meet the locals.

Apart from the crabs, there weren’t many others to meet.

That evening we met up with the Australians who were the servicing team for anybody who visited, and as the evening progressed they taught me how to play “Liar Dice”, an expensive game to learn.

Next day it was onto Perth Australia, and overnight in a local hotel ,

On to Melbourne, with patches of snow on the hills surrounding the city.

Overnight in a hotel again, and onto Whenuapai, just north of Auckland

Because we had left New Zealand in winter, doing the brave “I Ain’t cold” bit, flown through warm Australia to tropical Singapore. I had no warm uniform to wear, just cotton drill summer weight khaki.

The Hastings was intended to carry freight and the heating systems weren’t the best, but livable.

But Auckland and the overnight train ride back to Palmerston North, that was a mission.

Fortunately, I survived, and on return to Ohakea, I was able to continue to court my now wife, who blessed me with a son on the second try, who is responsible for getting me into Steemit so I can tell you these yarns.