British Nuclear Test Veterans Association
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Holiday of a Lifetime
Anon
Having read David Halliday’s experiences. I felt it might be worthwhile to document my journey to Christmas Island in 1958. I was in 61 Fd Sqn, 38 Corps Engr Regt. I was attending a further trade training course at Chatham when my unit received their marching orders for Christmas Island. “Sheer delight” would explain my feelings, when I realised that I would not be forced to spend six weeks sailing on the “Flat Bottomed Tub” Dunera, instead, I would have the luxury of flying by “Comet” the world’s first jet passenger airliner.
On finishing my course I arrived at RAF Lyneham and boarded the Comet. Once airborne, imaginations ran riot at the prospect of leaving the miserable wet weather in Britain for some glorious sunshine. After 10 minutes into the flight it was announced that the undercarriage would not go up and we would have to jettison the fuel and return to RAF Lyneham. This took a couple of hours and after landing we were informed that there would be a delay of 24 hours before take off. Next day, as promised, we took off and kept our fingers crossed that the undercarriage would work. As luck had it, we winged our way to Reykjavik for a re-fuelling stop then continued to Goose Bay in Canada for an overnight stop.
The next morning we flew to Offutt in Central America for a re-fuelling stop of one and a half-hours, then headed on to San-Francisco for another overnight stay.
When we arrived at San-Francisco airport in the morning to catch our aircraft for the onward journey to Honolulu we were told that the “Headwinds” were too high and we could not make the journey. We were stranded in San Francisco for the next two days. The authorities decided that the Comet was not going to be able to make the long journey in the near future so we boarded a scheduled American DC 6B for Honolulu. When we landed at Honolulu we were given accommodation at Hickham Field US Air Force Base. In the morning we reported to a movements Officer who explained that there were no aircraft available to take us to Christmas Island so he gave us US$3 dollars each and told us to report the next morning. This routine went on for 7 Days. One can imagine how upset we were when they finally managed to find room on a Hastings for the final leg of our journey.
Every time I see the film Pearl Harbour it brings back happy memories of being stranded at Hickham Air Force Base. On one occasion a group of us were sitting in the PX (American NAAFI) having a drink when their Orderly Sergeant came marching up to us and said “Is that Fatigue Dress you’re wearing?” We were very polite, and answered “No Sergeant, this is our best uniform!” (We were wearing our Olive Greens). He looked absolutely horrified and muttered “Jesus Christ!” and stormed off. I think it was the same Sergeant we later met on leaving the PX, we were crossing the road in order to get to our billets and he accused us of “Jay Walking”. He soon realised we didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I have no doubt he was delighted at our departure.
On arrival in Christmas Island we were shown the tents that were to be our home for the next 9 months. When we enquired about wardrobes to put our clothing into we were shown a large pile of old packing cases and instructed that we had to make our own. Fortunately it was my B1 Carpenter and joiner trade test that I had taken at Chatham so I had some idea what end of the hammer to use.
I wonder where the rest of my travelling companions are?
Dave (Chalky) Whyte (see photo page)