Air
Mail Plane
This
article by the late Donald Macdonald (28) Loddle 1991, gives
a good description of the of the ‘Air Plane Episode' and also
gives an insight into village life around 1940.
The
incident occurred around the beginning of November 1939. I
was weaving at the time as I had not reached the age for the
RNR. I ran out of bobbins the night before and decided to
catch Logan 's bus to town and get enough to finish the tweed.
Logan and Fortaidh had no timetables. You caught the bus in
the morning and you were trapped in Stornoway till they had
finished their business. When I got back to Tolsta around
4pm I noticed three youngsters at the end of our house, Dolaidh
a'Ghrèin (Donald Mackenzie, School Road ), Easy( Angus
Maciver of 26) and Aonghas Beag Bhiagain (Angus Murray of
29).
I
just reached them when the drone of an aeroplane coming from
the direction of the Ard, attracted our attention. Very soon
a bi-plane appeared, maybe a Tiger Moth. The plane flew along
the machraichean and over the Sìthean
Mòr and when it got to Abhainn Lìgh
it turned right to Gob Hàis and then
south along the sandy beach. The Sìthean Mòr
hid the plane from us and when it did not reappear at
the south side we came to the conclusion that it must have
landed on the Sandy Shore .
I
handed the bobbins to my mother and the four of us scurried
towards the shore. Darkness was approaching. There were no
fences on the crofts and the crops had been gathered in for
the winter, therefore we could cross all the crofts. Our target
was the gap at the bottom of croft numbers 44 to 48. A gap
created mainly by a stream, which we called Allt Phuilleam
. As we were running we were expressing our thoughts
to one another – thoughts that would fill another couple of
pages! We concluded that it would be a German plane, and,
of course, it would be carrying a Spandau , and so it would
take some doing to capture the pilot!
As
we approached from the high ground we could see the plane
a short distance from the Cleite Beag . Between the
plane and the shore was a line of sand dunes with muran
growing on them. We decided to keep behind the dunes
till we were abreast of the plane. I could see that the pilot
was outside the plane and there was enough daylight for me
to see the red, white and blue around the fuselage.
I
stood up and said, “Come on boys, she's British!” We approached
the pilot who encouraged us to come forward. He came forward
also and asked whether or not we could speak English. I said,
“Yes”, and then he asked where he was and what part of the
globe was it. I told him that he was on North Tolsta Sands
on the Isle of Lewis. He shook his head in bewilderment and
said, “You better come into the cabin and show me on the chart.”
When
it dawned on him that he had strayed well off course he leaned
back and laughed. I asked him, “What is so funny?” He then
enquired, “What was the language you were speaking as you
approached the plane?” I replied, “Gaidhlig.” “When I heard
you I thought I had landed in a foreign country,” he said
and added, “I was laughing at my own stupidity.” He then wanted
to know where he could get a phone and was there a garage
where he could refuel.
“When
I came out of the fog and saw this land of yours, it was the
most welcome sight I ever saw. There isn't a drop of fuel
in this plane,” he continued.
We
agreed to take him to the Post Office and assured him that
he could leave his plane unguarded. In those days you could
leave something in the open and nobody would touch it. Changed
days!
We
headed for the Post Office across the crofts till we came
to Dodds – number 39. It was up the cart road of this croft
that we escorted our South African airman. We considered his
eyesight to be in good shape. Pity he didn't use it when he
crossed the Minch !
We
barged into the Post Office without knocking. As we approached
the counter, Neil Mackenzie, the owner, peered over the rim
of his spectacles, and, on recognizing us three, he pointed
to the door and shouted, “OUT!”
Quite
a number of curious youngsters had now gathered. Finally someone
came out to tell us that the pilot was to be taken to Stornoway
for the night.
Next
morning I woke up as dawn was breaking. I could hear my father
in the kitchen, so, knowing that he would have the fire going
and the tea brewing, I decided to get up, get dressed, have
something to eat and be first down at the plane.
As
in remote areas of Scotland and especially in the islands
, we were denied the privileges of running water, sewerage
and electricity and so in discharging the necessities of nature,
a person had to go outside to an out-house.
Once
outside, to my amazement, I was aware of quite a number of
people making their way towards the shore. I would not be
first at the plane, so there was no sense in rushing. After
my breakfast and family worship, my father and I made tracks
to the shore, where quite a number had gathered, including
women.
The
airman arrived, accompanied by a Daily Express reporter and
an official from the airport, each carrying a can of petrol.
Having refueled he surveyed the ‘taking off' area. Since the
weather was frosty, the area where the streams were emptying
themselves into the sands was hard enough for a take-off.
He
told us what his plans were. He was looking for volunteers,
preferably youngsters, who would be willing to go under the
wings and lift the plane up while he was taking off. He gave
us a demonstration of what was required and warned us, “When
the plane gathers speed and if any one of you is unable to
keep up with it, then you drop flat to the ground.”
Since
everybody was anxious to play a role, he got his selection
without any bother and he put us shoulder to shoulder along
the lower wings. He told us that he was going to taxi to the
edge of the hard sand and as soon as he reached it he was
going to open up and we were to do as he had told us.
With
a short take-off he was airborne and made a direct flight
to Stornoway Airport .
Next
day, in the Daily Express, the story was on the front page.
If only one could get a hold of this edition, one could read
a story which was blown up out of all proportion!
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