A JOURNEY TO THE PAST

BY TONY DAY

Back to BURMA PAGE Back to OPERATIONAL THEATERS HOME

So often one hears the remark that "one should never go back" because things will always appear smaller narrower and dingier than you remember them. On my first trip back to England, after being away for over fifteen years, I found things very much as I remembered them, though, of course, there were some changes. Recently, after five years of planning and letter writing, I obtained permission from the Government of the Union of Burma to go back to the area I was in during the first part of 1945, the Island of Akyab just off the west coast of Burma, in the general area known as the Arakan. At that time I was an R.A.F. pilot involved in casualty evacuation duties in light aircraft. Akyab, being a port used by the Japanese to supply their Arakan garrison before they were driven out of the area, had been subjected to numerous bombing attacks by our aircraft, mostly directed at Japanese ships in the harbour. The Arakan is cut off from the seat of government in Rangoon by the jungle covered mountain range known as the Arakan Yomas. The Arakanese are mainly Moslem, in contrast to the rest of Burma which is mainly Buddhist, with quite a different culture. Communication is by air and even to the central government, the Arakan is quite remote.

It was with some trepidation that I boarded a Burma Airlines Fokker F28 in Rangoon early in January for a brief visit to the area of my operational flying some thirty-six years ago. With me I had marked maps of the Arakan and operational photographs, two or three of them showing the bombing raids on the dock area. Our early departure was delayed as the Vice Premier of Burma, with his staff, boarded the aircraft for an inspection trip of the Akyab area. For all intents and purposes the Government of Burma is a military dictatorship, the Vice Premier being an army general. After an hour' s flight we landed at Akyab airport, the same strip from which I had flown, where I was met by my guide, a slight Arakanese about my own age, appointed by the government. He spoke some English but also spoke Hindustani, of which I have some knowledge, so we were able to communicate. It transpired that during the war he was an interpreter for the Japanese and, after Akyab was retaken, worked for the 14th Army. He took me to the rest house where I was to stay-rather spartan accommodation but very clean.. My meals I took in the "restaurant", a dirt floored, tin roofed structure with bamboo walls, open to the street. The proprieter had been a cook for a British Army Officers Mess, so he had some English and seemed to be delighted to see me. He found the only knife, fork and spoon in the place, cleaned off a table for me and, whilst! was there, provided me with very good meals.

At the earliest opportunity I sat down with my guide, U Kyaw Tun, and With the aid of the map and photographs, showed him where I wanted to go and what I wanted to see, but, alas, the bridges built by the 14th Army, sometimes with the help of elephants, had either collapsed or had been taken apart to provide building materials and there was no way of getting off the island, except by air. My guide,whose main occupation was a fisherman, owned three sampans but it would take several days to journey by sampan to the places I had covered in a few minutes flying time years ago. It was apparent that I could tour the town of Akyab and the island in a day, so I arranged to go back to Rangoon on the aircraft the next day.

So, we set off to tour the townsite. I was taken and introduced to everyone who was someone -the Army Captain in charge of the town, the Postmaster, the Port Director, the Shipping Manager, the oldest inhabitant and the local schoolteacher. All bad a smattering of English and nearly all were on the island during the War. I toured the port installations, the Harbour Authority, the hospital, the Post Office, etc. As one of the few Europeans who have been to Akyab since the war, and as I was probably the only "white man" within a radius of several hundred miles, I was an object of great interest. Small children who had never seen a person of my colour followed me in the streets and I was conscious of the eyes from the bamboo stores and houses which followed my progress down the streets. At each stop I was given tea and my guide, who was carrying my briefcase, would produce the maps and photographs with a flourish, for all to see. The first time he did this, I was mortified, especially as he introduced me as an R.A.F. bomber pilot, but I found that there was no animosity towards me-in fact, they asked me questions as to where and when the photographs were taken and they were very pleased to be able to identify local landmarks in the photographs. The Port Master was so taken with the photograph of his port facilities under attack that I left it with him. Later, with a vintage Jeep, I explored the island and noted with interest that the steel planks that made up our second runway now propped up buildings, were used in construction, and comprised the fence around the airfield. Having dinner that evening in the "restaurant", I was surprised to be greeted in English by an elderly gentleman with a very Oxford accent. He was the resident administrator at the time of the Japanese occupation and met the leaders, of the invading Allied Forces. He seemed surprised that I did not know them personally but, as a lowly Flying Office at that time, I did not cohort with Generals and Air Marshals.

Early next morning I was taken to the market.. . . . that was an experience! I think the total population of the island was crammed into an area about the size of a large city block at the foot of the fishing at jetty. They were all talking at once in high pitched voices. Intermixed in this sea of humanity were children, beggars, dogs, crows, and what have you. The fish, meat and vegetables were laid on racks at ground level and the women were bargaining for the choice items. All the senses were assaulted by the sight, sound, smell and closeness of this teeming throng. Later I visited my guide's house and met his friends and relatives. The house is built on stilts, as the island is low lying and in the monsoon season there would be heavy flooding. The roof was corrugated iron, the walls bamboo, but the floor was solid lumber. There were several good sized rooms and it was all scrupulous clean.

That morning I had watched the children going to school and could not help but be impressed. They were clean and imaculately turned out-most of the girls wearing highly coloured longyis, the boys wearing less colourful, longyis or shorts. This was Saturday morning but they were on their way to school for an half day and it was obvious that they enjoyed school and looked upon education as a privilege. On the island they go up to Junior High level. After that, it means going to Rangoon or Mandalay for further education. Later that afternoon I left on the flight back to Rangoon, once again in company with the Vice Premier and his party.

It is now more than thirty-five years since the end of the second world war but I would venture to say that the way of life is almost the same now as it was then. Certainly, the town site has not changed significantly. The port facilities have been repaired but the hulls of the bombed Japanese supply ships are still in the harbour. Our steel plank runway now serves a variety of purposes and there is now electric power on the island. Many of the people have radios but I did not see any other appliances, except the odd sewing machine. The people were friendly and those with some English were eager to communicate and I feel an affection for them that I did not have before. Certainly my journey into the past was worthwhile, even though I did not get to see all the places that I wanted. It was a very unique experience and was worth the years of preparation.

FOOTNOTE DEC 2004: I stated that the wrecks stripped to the water line were still there and this is true but not the Niyo Maru sunk Sept 9, 1942. When we took Akyab at the beginning of January 45, there were many things that had to be done but two were paramount, lengthen the main runway to take heavily laden Daks and clear the harbour so we could use it.. The runway was long when I was there, we only used a little portion of it, as a Sentinal or a Argus takes off in a very short distance. However we had at least two transport squadrons based there and it took all sorts of aircraft including a Super Fortress, which lost its way. Liberators have a long take off run and they had no problem getting in and out.

The other immediate job was to clear the harbour. The Royal Engineeres, with I presume help from Navy divers sealed the holes in the Niyo Maru (DFS Hafthor captured by the japs became the Niyo Maru and was sunk by British aircraft off Burma on Sept 09 1942) and then they pumped out the hull and moved the ship but I have no idea where to. It certainly was not anywhere around when we helped unload the booze. (VE Day celebrations)

FOOTNOTE: The following are answers to specific questions I had asked Tony about this return trip, the response's are provided raw and unedited.

The VP and his party occupied the first several rows in the forward compartment of the Fokker. It is only about an hours flight to Akyab when I was quite surprised to see the Stewardess serving the official party with tea, out of a silver teapot yet and some sort of cakes. I could not see quite what is was but it was obviously preferntial treatment. The chap sitting next to me through sign language indicated that this was special treatment. After the VP party were happy she did come down the rest of we peasants and gave us each a sort of candy. When the plane landed, we had to remain seated whilst the official party deplaned, once again through a cordon of armed soldiers and then they were whisked away by car to some unknown locations. Then we were allowed to deplane.

The Stewardess was big for a Burmese girl dressed in a longyi and in view of her VIP passengers quite bossy She was not a beauty not like the Thai Airways stewardesses who are really beautiful and they all speak English. This girl obviously did not or if she did she was not going to practice on me. I think that car or cars for the official party were the only autos as such that I saw on the island. Bullock Carts were obviously still the main mode of transportation with beat up old Jeeps a close second.The Fokker of Burmese National Airlines was probably well maintained mechanically but there were lots of little things wrong, like seat belts, the cockpit/cabin door, the general interior was well worn. The cockpit/cabin door lock had obviously been broken and not replaced as the door was kept party shut by a piece of string. I flew into Rangoon on Thai Airlines via Dacca in Bangladesh and the contrast btween the interiors and service on the two aircraft could not be more pronounced.

WAS THE AERODROME BUILDINGS / TERMINAL AS YOU LEFT IT: As far as I can recall there was no building out at the so called terminal than the terminal itself. There was a fence around the airfield that was not there in 1945 - made in part by strips of Sommerfeld track. The Main Jetty was almost exactly as it was when I was on it in 1945 to help unload the booze. If you are interested every BOR got 6 bottles of Australian beer and every officer got two bottles of spirits. Mine was Rum and I got so drunk on it that nite (VE nite) that I have never been able to face Rum since.

As I think I mentioned, I met the local School principal, who could speak English, but who wanted to talk Politics - Burmese Politics and that was the last thing I wanted to talk about...it had taken enuff palavar just to get there and I was certainly going to keep my nose clean.The owner/cook of the "open air " cafe where I ate was most helpful but my Urdu is and was limited so our conversation was of necessity about the food he

was serving me...heavily into eggs.

Questioned as to minimal photos & exploring Tony explained he had suffered from Hereditary Migraines... I could hardly see but I was determined to see as much as I could having come all this way, so I swallowed 292s, ate the eggs and was jolted all over the Island in a beat up old Jeep with no springs to speak of. It was then that my camera jammed after I had taken a couple of photos on the first day and all but 2 or 3 of my photos were ruined.. I saw most of the Island up to the Northern tip parts of which I had only flown over before as after you have been in the Far East for a year you get pretty blase about the local area, unless it is the Taj Mahal or something like that. We usually sat in the Ops Tent all day playing cards and going out in rotations when we were needed for a flight. WE did go swimming in the nearby chaung but after sea snakes were seen we were very cautious.

I do know that I was most impressed with the children going to school in the morning, a Saturday morning- - they were clean tidy, well and colourfully dressed and obviously were happy going to school. Generally speaking and I mean generally, my experience was that the further you got away from the towns in India and Burma ( to a lesser extent) the more the people could be trusted. We would go up into the hills in India on hunting trips, way back of beyond, the people led a simple life, were mostly Hindu but in some places were Animists but they were absolutely trustworthy...nothing was ever stolen..whereas down in the larger centres, they would steal anything. Just an aside

I stated that the wrecks stripped to the water line were still there and this is true but not John Reid's ship. When we took Akyab at the beginning of January 45, there were many things that had to be done but two were paramount, lengthen the main runway to take heavily laden Daks and clear the harbour so we could use it.. The runway was long when I was there, we only used a little portion of it, as a Sentinal or a Argus takes off in a very short distance. However as I told you we had at least two transport squadrons based there and it took all sorts of aircraft including a Super Fortress, which lost its way. Liberators have a long take off run and they had no problem getting in and out.

The other immediate job was to clear the harbour. The Royal Engineeres, with I presume help from Navy divers sealed the holes in John Reids ship ( Niyu Maru) and then they pumped out the hull and moved the ship but I have no idea where to. It certainly was not anywhere around when we helped unload the booze on VE Day.

WHY FIVE YEARS OF PLANNING: To get into Burma at that time was difficult. To get to Rangoon and

Mandalay not too difficult to get a Visa but to go up country, ie Akayb took months of correspondence with authortites in Rangoon and at one time they said I would have to have an armed escort with me at all times ( which I had to pay for) but it was modified to having their rep in Akyab in effect be my guard ( tho he was not armed)

WHAT DO YOU MEAN STEEL PLANKS FROM RUNWAY MADE UP FENCES ETC: Steel plank runways were called Sommerfeld track, not sure of the spelling, used a lot in Burma and also in Northwest Europe when they set up airfields just off the Normandy Coast after DDay. They could be laid quickly. Very noisy when you landed as they clattered- don't know else to describe it.

WHY WERE THERE OFFICIALS ON BOARD THE FLIGHT TO THE SAME DESTINATION: Just a coincidence I think, and it was the Vice Premier and I certainly was not given any chance to contact him in anyway...he had umpteen seciuurity people with him. After we lesser mortals were loaded in the Fokker on Mingaladon apron, a couple of trucks of soldiers arrived all armed with Kasmikoffs or what have you and formed a cordon thru which the VP passed from his official car to the aircraft ladder. The rest of the passemgers were Burmese or Arakanese, what their purpose for the flight I don't have a clue as I didn't speak Burmese. The Akyab terminal, for want of a better word was built in part from sections of Sommerfelt track and as far as I can recall was open to the sky. You have got to remember Kevin this is over 20 years ago. In 1945 the Akyab airfield was one long all weather strip with an adjacent Sommerfelt track strip which was used by the RCAF Daks of 436 Squadron The Comm Flight was towards the South end of the runway betweem the two strips. We were flying light aircraft so we did not use much of the strip. No 194 Squadron Daks had their dispersal at the South end of the runway. Morie one of the Airfield Controllers told me that at the time Akyab Main was the busiest strip in that part of the world...the traffic was mainly Daks, both RAF RCAF and USAF. There was another strip. at Dabaing where 292 Squadron with their Sea Otters and Warwicks were based.

WAS YOUR OLD HOUSING STILL INTACT: we had none we lived in tents, our Ops Room was a tent, in fact it was all tents. I was only in the town of Sittwe once and that was to help unload a ship at the wharf...it was full of booze for the VE Day celebration

WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER ABOUT THE HOSPITAL: The Hospital was a concrete structure located near the Police Barracks, two storey but unfortunately prone to flooding during the monsoon Went to visit Maddox, one of our pilots there as he broke his ankle jumping off the back of a 15cwt The wards were all communal, though I am sure there were rooms for the staff...I don't really remember. It did not make much of an impression

WHAT WAS THIS GENTLEMAN WITH THE OXFORD ACCENT DOING THERE: He was Burmese who had been educated in England...he was still a man of some authority but don't know what his official position was, if any. He was not the Administrater at that time, the Adm was an Burmese Army Officer


	A JOURNEY TO THE PAST BY TONY DAY Back to BURMA PAGE Back to OPERATIONAL THEATERS HOME So often one hears the remark that "one should never go back" because things will always appear smaller narrower and dingier than you remember them. On my first trip back to England, after being away for over fifteen years, I found things very much as I remembered them, though, of course, there were some changes. Recently, after five years of planning and letter writing, I obtained permission from the Government of the Union of Burma to go back to the area I was in during the first part of 1945, the Island of Akyab just off the west coast of Burma, in the general area known as the Arakan. At that time I was an R.A.F. pilot involved in casualty evacuation duties in light aircraft. Akyab, being a port used by the Japanese to supply their Arakan garrison before they were driven out of the area, had been subjected to numerous bombing attacks by our aircraft, mostly directed at Japanese ships in the harbour. The Arakan is cut off from the seat of government in Rangoon by the jungle covered mountain range known as the Arakan Yomas. The Arakanese are mainly Moslem, in contrast to the rest of Burma which is mainly Buddhist, with quite a different culture. Communication is by air and even to the central government, the Arakan is quite remote. It was with some trepidation that I boarded a Burma Airlines Fokker F28 in Rangoon early in January for a brief visit to the area of my operational flying some thirty-six years ago. With me I had marked maps of the Arakan and operational photographs, two or three of them showing the bombing raids on the dock area. Our early departure was delayed as the Vice Premier of Burma, with his staff, boarded the aircraft for an inspection trip of the Akyab area. For all intents and purposes the Government of Burma is a military dictatorship, the Vice Premier being an army general. After an hour' s flight we landed at Akyab airport, the same strip from which I had flown, where I was met by my guide, a slight Arakanese about my own age, appointed by the government. He spoke some English but also spoke Hindustani, of which I have some knowledge, so we were able to communicate. It transpired that during the war he was an interpreter for the Japanese and, after Akyab was retaken, worked for the 14th Army. He took me to the rest house where I was to stay-rather spartan accommodation but very clean.. My meals I took in the "restaurant", a dirt floored, tin roofed structure with bamboo walls, open to the street. The proprieter had been a cook for a British Army Officers Mess, so he had some English and seemed to be delighted to see me. He found the only knife, fork and spoon in the place, cleaned off a table for me and, whilst! was there, provided me with very good meals. At the earliest opportunity I sat down with my guide, U Kyaw Tun, and With the aid of the map and photographs, showed him where I wanted to go and what I wanted to see, but, alas, the bridges built by the 14th Army, sometimes with the help of elephants, had either collapsed or had been taken apart to provide building materials and there was no way of getting off the island, except by air. My guide,whose main occupation was a fisherman, owned three sampans but it would take several days to journey by sampan to the places I had covered in a few minutes flying time years ago. It was apparent that I could tour the town of Akyab and the island in a day, so I arranged to go back to Rangoon on the aircraft the next day. So, we set off to tour the townsite. I was taken and introduced to everyone who was someone -the Army Captain in charge of the town, the Postmaster, the Port Director, the Shipping Manager, the oldest inhabitant and the local schoolteacher. All bad a smattering of English and nearly all were on the island during the War. I toured the port installations, the Harbour Authority, the hospital, the Post Office, etc. As one of the few Europeans who have been to Akyab since the war, and as I was probably the only "white man" within a radius of several hundred miles, I was an object of great interest. Small children who had never seen a person of my colour followed me in the streets and I was conscious of the eyes from the bamboo stores and houses which followed my progress down the streets. At each stop I was given tea and my guide, who was carrying my briefcase, would produce the maps and photographs with a flourish, for all to see. The first time he did this, I was mortified, especially as he introduced me as an R.A.F. bomber pilot, but I found that there was no animosity towards me-in fact, they asked me questions as to where and when the photographs were taken and they were very pleased to be able to identify local landmarks in the photographs. The Port Master was so taken with the photograph of his port facilities under attack that I left it with him. Later, with a vintage Jeep, I explored the island and noted with interest that the steel planks that made up our second runway now propped up buildings, were used in construction, and comprised the fence around the airfield. Having dinner that evening in the "restaurant", I was surprised to be greeted in English by an elderly gentleman with a very Oxford accent. He was the resident administrator at the time of the Japanese occupation and met the leaders, of the invading Allied Forces. He seemed surprised that I did not know them personally but, as a lowly Flying Office at that time, I did not cohort with Generals and Air Marshals. Early next morning I was taken to the market.. . . . that was an experience! I think the total population of the island was crammed into an area about the size of a large city block at the foot of the fishing at jetty. They were all talking at once in high pitched voices. Intermixed in this sea of humanity were children, beggars, dogs, crows, and what have you. The fish, meat and vegetables were laid on racks at ground level and the women were bargaining for the choice items. All the senses were assaulted by the sight, sound, smell and closeness of this teeming throng. Later I visited my guide's house and met his friends and relatives. The house is built on stilts, as the island is low lying and in the monsoon season there would be heavy flooding. The roof was corrugated iron, the walls bamboo, but the floor was solid lumber. There were several good sized rooms and it was all scrupulous clean. That morning I had watched the children going to school and could not help but be impressed. They were clean and imaculately turned out-most of the girls wearing highly coloured longyis, the boys wearing less colourful, longyis or shorts. This was Saturday morning but they were on their way to school for an half day and it was obvious that they enjoyed school and looked upon education as a privilege. On the island they go up to Junior High level. After that, it means going to Rangoon or Mandalay for further education. Later that afternoon I left on the flight back to Rangoon, once again in company with the Vice Premier and his party. It is now more than thirty-five years since the end of the second world war but I would venture to say that the way of life is almost the same now as it was then. Certainly, the town site has not changed significantly. The port facilities have been repaired but the hulls of the bombed Japanese supply ships are still in the harbour. Our steel plank runway now serves a variety of purposes and there is now electric power on the island. Many of the people have radios but I did not see any other appliances, except the odd sewing machine. The people were friendly and those with some English were eager to communicate and I feel an affection for them that I did not have before. Certainly my journey into the past was worthwhile, even though I did not get to see all the places that I wanted. It was a very unique experience and was worth the years of preparation. FOOTNOTE DEC 2004: I stated that the wrecks stripped to the water line were still there and this is true but not the Niyo Maru sunk Sept 9, 1942. When we took Akyab at the beginning of January 45, there were many things that had to be done but two were paramount, lengthen the main runway to take heavily laden Daks and clear the harbour so we could use it.. The runway was long when I was there, we only used a little portion of it, as a Sentinal or a Argus takes off in a very short distance. However we had at least two transport squadrons based there and it took all sorts of aircraft including a Super Fortress, which lost its way. Liberators have a long take off run and they had no problem getting in and out. The other immediate job was to clear the harbour. The Royal Engineeres, with I presume help from Navy divers sealed the holes in the Niyo Maru (DFS Hafthor captured by the japs became the Niyo Maru and was sunk by British aircraft off Burma on Sept 09 1942) and then they pumped out the hull and moved the ship but I have no idea where to. It certainly was not anywhere around when we helped unload the booze. (VE Day celebrations) FOOTNOTE: The following are answers to specific questions I had asked Tony about this return trip, the response's are provided raw and unedited. The VP and his party occupied the first several rows in the forward compartment of the Fokker. It is only about an hours flight to Akyab when I was quite surprised to see the Stewardess serving the official party with tea, out of a silver teapot yet and some sort of cakes. I could not see quite what is was but it was obviously preferntial treatment. The chap sitting next to me through sign language indicated that this was special treatment. After the VP party were happy she did come down the rest of we peasants and gave us each a sort of candy. When the plane landed, we had to remain seated whilst the official party deplaned, once again through a cordon of armed soldiers and then they were whisked away by car to some unknown locations. Then we were allowed to deplane. The Stewardess was big for a Burmese girl dressed in a longyi and in view of her VIP passengers quite bossy She was not a beauty not like the Thai Airways stewardesses who are really beautiful and they all speak English. This girl obviously did not or if she did she was not going to practice on me. I think that car or cars for the official party were the only autos as such that I saw on the island. Bullock Carts were obviously still the main mode of transportation with beat up old Jeeps a close second.The Fokker of Burmese National Airlines was probably well maintained mechanically but there were lots of little things wrong, like seat belts, the cockpit/cabin door, the general interior was well worn. The cockpit/cabin door lock had obviously been broken and not replaced as the door was kept party shut by a piece of string. I flew into Rangoon on Thai Airlines via Dacca in Bangladesh and the contrast btween the interiors and service on the two aircraft could not be more pronounced. WAS THE AERODROME BUILDINGS / TERMINAL AS YOU LEFT IT: As far as I can recall there was no building out at the so called terminal than the terminal itself. There was a fence around the airfield that was not there in 1945 - made in part by strips of Sommerfeld track. The Main Jetty was almost exactly as it was when I was on it in 1945 to help unload the booze. If you are interested every BOR got 6 bottles of Australian beer and every officer got two bottles of spirits. Mine was Rum and I got so drunk on it that nite (VE nite) that I have never been able to face Rum since. As I think I mentioned, I met the local School principal, who could speak English, but who wanted to talk Politics - Burmese Politics and that was the last thing I wanted to talk about...it had taken enuff palavar just to get there and I was certainly going to keep my nose clean.The owner/cook of the "open air " cafe where I ate was most helpful but my Urdu is and was limited so our conversation was of necessity about the food he was serving me...heavily into eggs. Questioned as to minimal photos & exploring Tony explained he had suffered from Hereditary Migraines... I could hardly see but I was determined to see as much as I could having come all this way, so I swallowed 292s, ate the eggs and was jolted all over the Island in a beat up old Jeep with no springs to speak of. It was then that my camera jammed after I had taken a couple of photos on the first day and all but 2 or 3 of my photos were ruined.. I saw most of the Island up to the Northern tip parts of which I had only flown over before as after you have been in the Far East for a year you get pretty blase about the local area, unless it is the Taj Mahal or something like that. We usually sat in the Ops Tent all day playing cards and going out in rotations when we were needed for a flight. WE did go swimming in the nearby chaung but after sea snakes were seen we were very cautious. I do know that I was most impressed with the children going to school in the morning, a Saturday morning- - they were clean tidy, well and colourfully dressed and obviously were happy going to school. Generally speaking and I mean generally, my experience was that the further you got away from the towns in India and Burma ( to a lesser extent) the more the people could be trusted. We would go up into the hills in India on hunting trips, way back of beyond, the people led a simple life, were mostly Hindu but in some places were Animists but they were absolutely trustworthy...nothing was ever stolen..whereas down in the larger centres, they would steal anything. Just an aside I stated that the wrecks stripped to the water line were still there and this is true but not John Reid's ship. When we took Akyab at the beginning of January 45, there were many things that had to be done but two were paramount, lengthen the main runway to take heavily laden Daks and clear the harbour so we could use it.. The runway was long when I was there, we only used a little portion of it, as a Sentinal or a Argus takes off in a very short distance. However as I told you we had at least two transport squadrons based there and it took all sorts of aircraft including a Super Fortress, which lost its way. Liberators have a long take off run and they had no problem getting in and out. The other immediate job was to clear the harbour. The Royal Engineeres, with I presume help from Navy divers sealed the holes in John Reids ship ( Niyu Maru) and then they pumped out the hull and moved the ship but I have no idea where to. It certainly was not anywhere around when we helped unload the booze on VE Day. WHY FIVE YEARS OF PLANNING: To get into Burma at that time was difficult. To get to Rangoon and Mandalay not too difficult to get a Visa but to go up country, ie Akayb took months of correspondence with authortites in Rangoon and at one time they said I would have to have an armed escort with me at all times ( which I had to pay for) but it was modified to having their rep in Akyab in effect be my guard ( tho he was not armed) WHAT DO YOU MEAN STEEL PLANKS FROM RUNWAY MADE UP FENCES ETC: Steel plank runways were called Sommerfeld track, not sure of the spelling, used a lot in Burma and also in Northwest Europe when they set up airfields just off the Normandy Coast after DDay. They could be laid quickly. Very noisy when you landed as they clattered- don't know else to describe it. WHY WERE THERE OFFICIALS ON BOARD THE FLIGHT TO THE SAME DESTINATION: Just a coincidence I think, and it was the Vice Premier and I certainly was not given any chance to contact him in anyway...he had umpteen seciuurity people with him. After we lesser mortals were loaded in the Fokker on Mingaladon apron, a couple of trucks of soldiers arrived all armed with Kasmikoffs or what have you and formed a cordon thru which the VP passed from his official car to the aircraft ladder. The rest of the passemgers were Burmese or Arakanese, what their purpose for the flight I don't have a clue as I didn't speak Burmese. The Akyab terminal, for want of a better word was built in part from sections of Sommerfelt track and as far as I can recall was open to the sky. You have got to remember Kevin this is over 20 years ago. In 1945 the Akyab airfield was one long all weather strip with an adjacent Sommerfelt track strip which was used by the RCAF Daks of 436 Squadron The Comm Flight was towards the South end of the runway betweem the two strips. We were flying light aircraft so we did not use much of the strip. No 194 Squadron Daks had their dispersal at the South end of the runway. Morie one of the Airfield Controllers told me that at the time Akyab Main was the busiest strip in that part of the world...the traffic was mainly Daks, both RAF RCAF and USAF. There was another strip. at Dabaing where 292 Squadron with their Sea Otters and Warwicks were based. WAS YOUR OLD HOUSING STILL INTACT: we had none we lived in tents, our Ops Room was a tent, in fact it was all tents. I was only in the town of Sittwe once and that was to help unload a ship at the wharf...it was full of booze for the VE Day celebration WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER ABOUT THE HOSPITAL: The Hospital was a concrete structure located near the Police Barracks, two storey but unfortunately prone to flooding during the monsoon Went to visit Maddox, one of our pilots there as he broke his ankle jumping off the back of a 15cwt The wards were all communal, though I am sure there were rooms for the staff...I don't really remember. It did not make much of an impression WHAT WAS THIS GENTLEMAN WITH THE OXFORD ACCENT DOING THERE: He was Burmese who had been educated in England...he was still a man of some authority but don't know what his official position was, if any. He was not the Administrater at that time, the Adm was an Burmese Army Officer BACK TO TOP