FLIGHT ACROSS EUROPE

BY JOHN DAY

Forty three years ago I was so popular with the RAF Police, that the then-editor of the Parade', thought I merited a mention. The article was entitled 'The long arm of the law' and told, fairly accurately, of the farcical search across Europe for a Cosmic Top Secret International Air Policeman who had 'eloped' with a French girl.

Perhaps you'd like the story from the horse's mouth, so to speak? Having graduated from Netheravon as a provost policeman in 1953 I was posted to '0' unit at West Drayton. I remember that part of the job description of a provost policeman that we had to learn by heart started with ... 'A provost shall have a horse.' ! I All I ever got was an open- backed) 5 cwt Bedford truck.

'0' unit was a detention and dispersal unit for Royal Air Force personnel who had sinned while serving abroad. I sawall sorts, and escorted them to such luxurious places as Colchester, Shepton Mallet and Wormwood Scrubs.

The CO, Sqn Ldr Darley-Pyne. discovered [spoke French. called me to his office and asked if I would like to go to France. WOULD I LIKE TO GO TO FRANCE') It was probably the silliest question anyone had ever asked me as I'd spent a year there before joining up, and was besotted with the place. Two days later I was on Victoria Station clutching my kit. a warrant and my travel orders informing me that) was to report to HQAAFCE, BFP06. All gobbledygook. However it did tell me to go to a place called Fontainebleau-Avon where a truck would pick me up. Thus started an idyllic two years, which ended in a ruined career.

Fontainebleau was the Central European Air Headquarters. Seven nations were there, the entire caboodle being run, naturally, by the Americans. It had six gates, a war-room, a cryptic centre and countless offices. All policemen were re-graded to 'International Air Police' status with increased powers of arrest. We had our own building, police station if you like. which was run by an American Master Sergeant who spent six days a week fishing.

Duty was a shift system. three days on, three evenings. three nights, then three days off. It follows therefore that every nine days there was mass exodus of that rota to Paris. And the pay' It had shot up to nearly £11 a week' Cigarettes were 7/6 a carton (36p for 2(0), beer was 35 francs (there were 1.000 francs to £ I then), car hire w~s 75p a day (or a carton of cigs') and the ladies of the night wouid do gymnastics of a most remarkable nature for £ I or some stockings. I met my comeuppance at the end of 1954. She was such an innocent lady! I was ~ I and a total pushover. Mind you. [ had met her in a bar where she was just 'chatting with friends', all of whom were Lily Savage look-a-likes.

In those days, abroad, you had to apply for permission to the CO to get married. God. the forms. The RAF CO was a W g Cdr Walker. Such a wise man, but no match for me' 'I am 21 and I am going to get married.' There had of course been a full check done on my intended. which had come up with the inevitable result 'Registered at 5th arrondissement, Paris, known.' It was pointed out to me that I may not get overseas lodging out allowance. certainly not a married quarter. 'Think of your family' was the main theme ... Mother was

having kittens in England and trying to pull strings. .

A nameless corporal in CDO sidled up to me on 4 February 1954. 'Er, John.' For a start, [ always hated creeps. 'What')' '[ thought you'd like to know you are posted to Celie at 16.30 hrs tomorrow.' 'Thanks. What do you want')' 'A note to Helene.' Helene was a comely widow who served in the PX. I gave him the note. The hapless man married her a year later. God forbid. How are you Corporal') My rented Citroen was parked next to Martin Maiden's Triumph at the back of our block. I didn't pack. [ think I wore two shirts and took some socks. I locked my locker, and went. It was a windy, rainy night. I got to Lucette's lodgings at 21.30 hrs. 'Get some clothes ...

we're off" I had about £ 17. We drove through the night, actually past the camp. and crossed the Swiss border at Les Verrieres at 7.30 on 5 February. As I had lived in Neuchatel for the past year or so I felt. 'That's it'. Euphoriaat beating the system for a few hours soon went. I actually had the nerve to visit my ex-fiancee and got £50! This took us across Switzerland to Austria and to Innsbruck. It was mid-winter. Everything was frozen. Arguments, chaos. I was arrested after a disturbance in our hotel ... Austrian police very polite. Very stupid. [ showed them my International Air Police warrant card, and they blamed hysterical French women.

On our warrant cards were the heavy-typed words INTERNATIONAL AIR POLICE. Photograph tv the right. 'The bearer has the right .... etc. in the small print underneath. If you presented this card with your thumb over 'AIR' it read 'INTERNATIONAL (thumb) POLICE'. Now. I ask you, who in 1953/4/5 would have questioned that? We may all be a bit more sophisticated now, but then it was a passport that we all used, .. Free concerts. free drinks, free taxis, 'Excuse me M'sieur. we are looking for a suspected criminal who may be on your premises. Do you mind if we come in')'

We then went over the Brenner pass to Milan. From there down one side of Italy, across the bottom. back up the other side. It was. as the press described at the time 'a paper chase across Europe'. I think they said 'using unpaid hotel and petrol bills as clues'. I was stopped twice, arrested once, freed always. It is untrue to say that the hotels etc didn't get paid. They did - by the British Embassy.

Milan was the end of the road. We were having rolls and coffee when the' phone rang in our room. Now I don't mind if you believe this or not, but the voice said: 'Sir, there are two gentlemen downstairs who wish to see you.' Foreign Section of Milan prison. Lucette repatriated to France. me held ... Ten days ... British Consul: 'Ah! so you are DAY. Uhmm.' I stank. There were nineteen to a cell (concrete, sloping up to a concrete pillow). One blanket. One meal of pasta slop a day pushed through in a bucket. ·Yes.'

'Can't do much for you, old chap.' 'I am a British citizen. It's your responsibility to see that at least I eat.' . Yes. Well. you are a desener. after all. aren't you')'

As I was escorted out his secretary gave me a 1.000 lire note and a round tin of 50 Players cigarettes. She was at that moment the most wonderful woman in the world.

There is/was a separate way of dealing with non-nationals in European police Stations. They are segregated. allowed their own money. and can buy virtually anything. including wine. from a concessionaire who wheels a trolley once a day to the meal slot in the cell door. Of course the prices are inf1ated. but that doesn't count if you don't have any money' I didn't and. were it not for a Legionnaire awaiting an escort from North Africa. all I would have eaten was communal slop. As it was. we were the only two who spoke French. so he took me under his wing. Years later I made enquiries about him. and found he had been taken to Sidi-bel-Abbes, maltreated and shot as a deserter.

'English pig.' My favourite warder was there on the II th day ... 'Come. pig.' With the same clothing on me. unshaven. body full of crawling insects, I was escorted by two toy soldier caribinieri to a little border town called Bardoneccia. The journey took about five hours I recall. I sat on one bench opposite my escorts in the reserved compartment while they scoffed their lunch, drank their wine and smoked themselves silly. Prisoners don't eat. The train stopped. They f1uffed up their plumed hats, and we stepped onto the platform, We were about two yards from a vivid yellow line. They slowmarched two yards, and halted. A foot away from me an RAF uniform. A Royal Air Force Police uniform! Sgt Chapman. 'Don't just stand

there, John, step into France: That man is my friend today. Steak and chips. bottles of beer. carton of Lucky Strikes. I still stank. but slept all the way to Paris. Military hospital in Fontainebleau. Doctor gingerly examining me. 'Shave everything: A purple bath of potassium permanganate. various jabs. powder, bed. The Squadron Leader DAPM said: ·Well. Day, given us a bit of a run haven't you?'

The charges drawn up were astronomical in number: AWOL, Sect. 44, Sect. You name it. There were 40 in all. I had been absent 44 days, had no warrant card, no 1250, nothing. (These were eventually returned by the Italian Police) ... The Press ... Lucette, back in Paris and unknown to me had written to Princess Margaret. The French press wanted to know why 'a flower of French womanhood was considered unsuitable in the eye of the occupying power'll' I was transferred from close to open arrest. Wg Cdr Cooper (now deceased) called me to his office. 'Now, John', he said. 'Let's see what we can do: My trial by Courts Martial was scheduled for three weeks hence, 14 April. I believe.

Meanwhile the media was having a field day. The 'Stars and Stripes' ran a funny called 'Who is this guy anyway?' Sydney Smith, the resident Paris man of the Daily Express took total control of the lady. First she was a secretary; after which she became a laboratory assistant. then a hairdresser. In reality she was my registered prostitute.

! meanwliile was being debriefed. My application to marry was scrutinised, and it was suggested that a mistake may have been made. After all. permission had not been refused, had it? There was no trace of a posting to Germany in CDO.

Who would I like to represent me at 'the tria!'? I think it was then that I realised that I was about to say goodbye to the Police. I couldn't plead Not Guilty, because the plain fact was that I had been absent'

'Now, about these other charges: In England, civil law is also military law. It appears that overseas there were loopholes. One by one the charges were dropped. To this day I don't know how or why, but I suspect the equivalent of smoke-filled rooms and chats in corridors played a major part. My final charge was simply one of

'Absent without leave: .~

I chose Wg Cdr Jennings as 'Friend of the accused'. The Courts Martial was presided over by Wg Cdr Derbyshire. The court was overflowing with press. I was described as 'The man with the spirit of Drake in the finest traditions of the British Empire: I think even I gulped at that' Before passing sentence, the president of the court serenely granted me permission to marry the girl of my choice, as quickly as could be arranged. I was meanwhile to be kept in France, in open arrest, while the sentence of 84 days detention was Teviewed and confirmed. Court adjourned.

I was virtually free for the next two weeks. I still had my stripes.

Wg Cdr Cooper was to be my best man. The wedding was arranged at the town hall of the 5th area of Paris, followed by a religious ceremony at St George's Church.

This is where unexpected friends showed themselves, ranging from the Guard Commanders, to MT drivers, to my mates. I was taken out of Fontainebleau in the boots of various cars. 'Have a good night, but get back for 0600 or my arse is on the line'. I'd go to visit Lucette in Paris in their cars, and I'll never forget the faces of the guards on Gate Four as I calmly drove in at 05.45. 'Don't bother booking me in, I haven't been out"

We were married on 27 April 27 1955. It was chaos. The RAF provided their best car (a Standard Vanguard!) and a driver. SAC Cook. Either Gaumont British News or Movietone, I forget which, filmed us. I left with £9 in my pocket, and came back with hundreds. Paris- Match paid for our hotel. the Daily Mirror took us over the next day. The party was over at 12.00 hrs on 28 April 1955. The

posed photographs were taken, the smiles all gone.

At 16.00 hrs Sgt George Gardiner was detailed to escort me to Colchester. George was newly promoted, we had been plods together. My stripes were off; nice white bits on my arms, his new three were as glaringly obvious as mine I He had no idea of what was to hit him. We got to the Gare du Nord in Paris about 19.00 hrs. My sentence had been cut from 84 to 64 days. I had been quote 'in custody' for 30 days. I therefore had 30 days to do, less a third remission. Three weeks to go.

The guard on the French train who had to open the reserved compartment recognised me. 'It's Corporal Johnnie,' he shouted. They came from everywhere. The window had to be lowered. or it would have been broken. Bottles of wine, cigarettes and money were thrown in. Poor George sat in the comer, and watched. We demolished a couple of bottles and the ticket collector, guards, driver, Uncle Tom Cobley and all, had the rest.

0800 hrs and Victoria Station again. Flashlights everywhere, crowd held back as we were hustled through the side entrance which goes by the old 'Golden Arrow' bar ... A 15 cwt Bedford truck, bemused driver, off to Liverpool Street Station. Another reserved compartment. George Gardiner totally done in. People started knocking on the locked door. Breakfast was delivered by an unknown sympathiser. .. As we approached Colchester, I told Sgt Gardiner what to expect as I had done it all before. I told him that HE would have to doubletime everywhere, and he would be treated exactly the same as me until the hand-over papers were signed. He saw this as my last effort to playa joke on him. 'I'm a bloody sergeant' he said.

'Lurch' met us at the guardroom. 'Bloody nancy boys eh? Been expecting you ... to the right DOUBLEEE - MARRCH" George nodded affably to Lurch, and started to amble, 'OY' YOU -whaddy think you're doing, wipe that silly grin off your face or you'll be 'ere longer than 'im. When I say DUBBLE you f'ing DUBBLE you thing:

Well, I had told him ... 'eft, 'ite, 'eft, 'ite to the numbered squares.

George puce and full of wine. 'Pisner, 'alt, AND you, you idiot.' I'm sure Sgt Gardiner was glad to sign me over. I hadn't bothered to tell him that when it was allover, he would be taken to the 'Staff' Mess and given army tea and a grin. He wouldn't have believed anything after the last 24 hours.

Epilogue: I served myJew days left at the Glasshouse and was met by the 'Daily Express' on my release. Yes, I ended up in 'D' unit at West Drayton' The adjutant's office was put at my disposal to telephone Paris and I was handed the pile oj mail which had accumulatedJrom well-wishers. I was posted to RAF Halton (.') given 14 days leave, and loads of pay. Lucette arrived a week later, and we were given an instant married quaner at 26 Lambe Road. I was remustered as an MT driver, passed my (H) and coach test and, irony of all ironies, was posted to RAF Police Training School, Netheravon, as the driver of the Police Dog demonstration team. SAC Day never told a soul, but they all knew.