A large unit such as ours, consisting of pilots, administrative officers, WRAFS and aircraftsmen, now more or less on a peace-time basis needed some form of organised activities to sustain their interest. The pilots were not in this category, as we had our Bristol Fighters and an unlimited supply of gasoline. This enabled us to visit various parts of Ireland without any transport difficulties. For those who were interested in sport we arranged a special sports meeting, tennis tournaments and special flights for our WRAF (Womens’ Royal Air Force) staff. With very few exceptions all WRAF staff took advantage of this offer of a ‘sightseeing flight’ and considered it a real highlight.
I was asked to arrange all details for a sports meeting and this proved very successful for we had many good athletes amongst members of the squadron. Special events were included for the WRAF staff who entered these competitions with much enthusiasm. Having had some success in high jumping I entered myself for this event and had little difficulty in winning it at (I think) 5 feet 7 inches. The enthusiasm and interest shown by our CO, Major Baker, in this sports meeting and indeed all phases of athletics helped considerably to make this meeting an unqualified success. In so far as I was personally concerned, he suggested that I should enter for the high jump event in a combined RAF (all Ireland) sports meeting in Dublin. This I did and was again successful. Two other important meetings were in the offing. One combined RAF squadrons to be held at Stamford Bridge, London, and two inter-services championships later at the same venue, both of which I was urged by our CO to nominate for. In the meantime, however, an official communication was received from the Australian authorities in London, requesting that I should place myself at their disposal for repatriation back to Australia. This did not please the CO as he wished me to remain with 141 squadron at least until the two forthcoming athletic meetings were over. The honour of an athletic win for 141 squadron was important to him. So he, in his forthright manner, wrote to the Australian authorities stating in no uncertain terms that Flight Lieut. F.C. Penny was doing important work with the squadron and was therefore indispensable! This explanation was apparently accepted, at least for the time being, and so I was nominated for the high jump events. In the meantime arrangements were in hand to hold an aerial derby open to RAF squadrons from Collinstown, Baldonnell, Oranmore, and of course our own squadron at Tallaght, which was to be the starting and finishing point for the race. Bonny and I worked on our own Bristol Fighter and my aircraftsman reduced the wing incidence and retuned the engine, which enabled me to reach a top speed of 127 mph.The event attracted a large number of entries and included various types of aircraft. Our own squadron at Tallaght contributed eight entries, all Bristol Fighters. With Bonny as my navigator, we were flagged off from the starting point in the early afternoon and made good progress to the first check point. The engine was performing well and the navigation accurate. On the second leg we passed several other competitors and on checking our watches and maps considered that we had a good chance of winning this event, if our speed and accuracy could be maintained.
We reached our final turning point on good time and proceeded on our direct course back to Tallaght. The Bristol Fighter had two gasoline tanks, one gravity fed and located in the centre section of the upper wing, and the other on which the pilot sat, using a hand pressure pump to force the fuel to the gravity tank above. Noticing that the gravity tank gauge showed ‘low’ I started to pump in order to transfer gasoline from the pressure tank to gravity tank, but with no effect. By this time the gauge was showing ‘empty’ and I began to search for a suitable place to make a ‘forced landing’. I had one small field in view, the surface of which seemed reasonable, but it was the smallest on which I had ever attempted to land a Bristol Fighter. Flying at only 500 feet I had no option but to attempt a landing and using an almost vertical side slip decreased my forward speed which was sufficient to allow me to get over the nearest hedge. I used all the well-known methods of reducing forward speed such as ‘swish-tailing’, finally landing at the lowest possible speed with my propeller (which was now stopped) pushing itself into a box-thorn hedge. Fortunately no damage was done but I had no means of rectifying the trouble, so leaving Bonny in charge I walked to the nearest road and persuaded an Irish farmer to lend me his bicycle so that I could get to a telephone to call for mechanical help from the nearest RAF station, which happened to be Oranmore. Although the Irish farmer had mentioned telephone I found that there was only a small country post office with no telephone so I had to send a telegram. In due course a lorry with mechanics arrived and rectified the trouble, which was a blocked feed pipe. By this time it was getting late and I still had to get out of this small field and knowing the distance I still had to fly to reach Tallaght I knew that it would be dark before reaching the squadron. I requested the Oranmore staff to telephone Tallaght giving our approximate ETA and asked for flares to be laid out. The Bristol Fighter was a very stable aircraft with few or no vices. Its landing speed, however, was about 80 mph and at night time with limited lighting facilities, it was not always an easy machine to land. We landed safely, glad to be back, especially as a heavy fog was beginning to drift across the aerodrome, which would have made more difficulties for landing. While I was away competing in this little aerial derby, word had been received from the RAF athletic sports committee in London requesting me to report at Stamford Athletic Ground, London west. It would have taken too long to have reached London by boat and train, so I used my Bristol Fighter, flying up to Larne in the North and crossing over to Stranraer in Scotland. This was the shortest water crossing. I landed at an airfield just outside London where I was accommodated by the unit stationed there. Next day I reported to Stamford Bridge where I was given a programme of events and a number 6! I went to the dressing room to change and then had a run around the course to loosen up, then had a few jumps over the stick and that was all until next day, the day of the event. There were, if I remember rightly, twelve competitors for this event, amongst them an RAF Sgt Major who had won this event on four previous occasions. There was considerable betting on this event. Unfortunately I did not have anything on myself and the Sgt Major was ‘odds on’ favourite to win. We started the jumps about 2.00 p.m. and by the time the horizontal bar had been raised to 5 feet 8 inches quite a number of the competitors had fallen out, in fact, now I remember only the Sgt/Major and myself were left in the competition when 5 feet 9 was reached. By today’s standards this height is not high, but it must be remembered that we were all amateurs and had not had any previous experience, or training. If I remember rightly again, the Sgt/Major and I tied for this even at 5 feet 9 and a half inches. I was quite happy with the result, having tied with the reigning champion of the RAF. As the reward was a gold medal for first and a silver one for second place, we tossed – and I lost, and the medals had to be returned to the maker, first to tie, and second to tie. I knew that my CO would be happy to know the result so I sent him a telegram. After spending a few days in London I returned to Tallaght where I received congratulations all around, another honour for 141!
Life went on as usual in the squadron until a date was set for the Inter-Services Championship, to be held at Stamford Bridge. I stuck a stick up somewhere on the aerodrome and when I felt like it, I took a jump! This was all the preparation I had for the big event. A few days before the event I travelled down again by Bristol Fighter near London, I think it was Uxbridge. Arrangements had been made for me to take advantage of a trainer who had previously trained competitors for the Olympic Games. I’m afraid I did not spend a lot of time with him. London was only a bus ride away and always held a great attraction for me, as it did indeed for a great number of the Australians. The afternoon before the big event I did spend a few hours with the trainer loosening up my muscles by vigorous massage and heat treatment after which he suggested that I take a gentle run around the track, which I did but on the way back to the dressing room I noticed some of the competitors having a little practice over the horizontal bar. I joi
ned them, but wearing my sand shoes and the grass being damp my right foot slipped and I strained my ankle, not seriously, but enough to cause me to limp back to my trainer, whose comments could not very well be repeated here! He had given me strict instructions that I was not to jump over the bar and I had disobeyed him. I know he had good reason to be annoyed. Apparently he still thought there was a possibility of my winning this event so he spent a lot of time with heat lamps, finally binding the strained ligaments with an elastic bandage. He sent me back to my quarters to rest. At noon the following day he gave me further treatment after which I felt I could give a reasonably good account of myself in the event.
There were three entries from each of the three services, Army, Navy and Airforce. The horizontal bar was set up first at 5 feet 6 inches, which height presented no problems to any of us. It was then raised one inch after each successful clearance. We all cleared 5 feet 8 inches, but at 5 feet 8 and half inches the Navy team failed and so were out of the running. The Army team continued to 5 feet 9 inches but failed to reach the next half inch as did one of the RAF competitors. The Sgt Major with whom I had tied previously and I remained in the contest. Neither of us had before reached this height, and the bar seemed awfully high to me. It was not yet over. The bar was still being raised, half inch after each successful jump. We both succeeded clearing the bar at 5 feet 11 inches. The next half inch proved the crucial height for both of us. I missed my first jump as he did, but I was successful at the second attempt. Unfortunately for him he missed with his next two tries, which gave me the championship at 5 feet 11 and half inches. I was naturally elated, not for myself only but also for the RAF AND my own squadron 141. I sent a telegram to the CO Major Baker. I wonder if Air Marshal Sir Brian Baker would still remember the young Australian who won these athletic events? In due course I received from the RAF committee through Goldsmiths and Silversmiths Co Ltd, of London, a 22 carat gold medallion to commemorate the event. On the obverse side, the three services are depicted, Navy a warship, Army a tank and Airforce an aeroplane in flight. The other side bore the inscription ‘Presented to Lieut. F.C. Penny’. This, of course, is one of my treasured possessions.
I returned to Dublin a few days later to find that another letter had been received from the Australian authorities in London, requesting me to report for repatriation back to Australia and as my CO had no valid reason for retaining my services, I made arrangements to go to London. I handed over my administrative duties, attended three farewell parties, Officers’ Mess, Mess and WRAF and said a very regretful farewell to all my good friends in 141, and this time took the boat from North Wall, Dublin to Holyhead and from there by train to London, where I reported to the Australian Headquarters. They posted me to a repatriation camp at Flowerdown near Winchester.
When I arrived here I discovered that I had met the CO previously. He suggested that if I were not in a hurry to return to Australia he would be happy to have me on his staff as one of his officers, a job which involved taking charge of groups of officers who were being repatriated back to the countries from whence they had come. Frequent visits were made to Tilbury Southampton, Plymouth and Liverpool. On occasions there were as many as 30-40 officers, many of them senior to me, and when their ship sailed from Liverpool it was necessary to arrange overnight accommodation in London. It would need no stretch of imagination to understand their desire to have what to them was ‘a somewhat riotous time’, on their last night in London. There was little I could do about it, but to put them on their honour to report to me at a given London station the following morning.
A passage was arranged for me on the Indarra sailing early December, but just before sailing time I was asked to give my cabin to a woman who, because of emergency, wanted to leave England immediately. This I agreed to do and ultimately sailed on the Orsova in the same month. We were in Gibraltar on Christmas Day and after a most happy voyage, returned home to Australia in January 1920 after a most eventful!! happy though dangerous time away.
CHAPTER 6
Vice Admiral H.T. Baillie Grohman
Details
This account is taken from Admiral Grohman’s personal papers which are held in the Imperial War Museum. He trained as a cadet aboard the HMS Britannia . He served aboard the cruiser, HMS Grafton , the flagship of the British navy’s Pacific Fleet from September 1904 to 1905. From 1905 to 1907, he served aboard the flagship of the Atlantic Fleet, the HMS Edward VII , which was often based at Castletown Berehaven. Grohman witnessed the beginning of the ‘Second Revolution’ in China in 1913, while serving on the HMS Monmouth . He was based on the HMS Lively at Devonport at the outbreak of the First World War, the Lively joined the 7th Destroyer Flotilla, seeing action during the German raid on Great Yarmouth. During the War, he also served on the destroyer, HMS Gurkha , the minesweeper, HMS Gentian , and the minesweeper, HMS Totnes . During the War of Independence, he served aboard the HMS Truro , a minesweeper based in Portland, which was employed in fishery protection duties. It was also based in Cobh, and acted as a support to coastguard stations, and to prevent smuggling.
Ireland 1920 to 1921
SERIOUS REBELLION IN Ireland raised its head again in 1919 to 1921. My ship the Truro had two spells of service there together with three others of the Minesweeping Flotilla in 1920/21. With a number of destroyers, we were based at Queenstown (now called Cobh) then the British naval base in Ireland. It is a really beautiful harbour with lovely country round it. Of course there was no Eire then, and all Ireland was as much part of the United Kingdom as Scotland and Wales.
144,000 Irishmen had voluntarily joined our armies in the First World War and the Navy had always Irish recruits. Nevertheless, during a most critical period for us in the First World War, some Irish rebels known as Sinn Féiners, raised a rebellion in Dublin later to be known as Easter Rising 1916. It was later estimated that there were not more than 2,000 of these rebels. They were known to be in touch with the Germans from whom shiploads of arms were expected. These were intercepted by the Navy. In this rising some 100 British troops were killed in the street fighting and 200 wounded. Moreover a number of British officers and their wives murdered at night in a most cold blooded way, while asleep in various hotels. Much damage to Dublin was done. The rebellion was put down, and ten rebels were executed, but the trouble simmered on.
The Irish called the 1919-21 ‘trouble’ the Anglo-Irish War and their early policy was to ruthlessly murder isolated units of the Irish Constabulary but eventually matters got worse, murder, arson, troops ambushed or attacked individually and so on. But as far as I could ascertain then or since, no Naval officer or man had been in any way attacked. It was the Irish Constabulary, our Army, and any civilians who supported them in any way who were the targets. Eventually the British sent to Ireland auxiliaries who became known as the Black and Tans to keep order, they became exceedingly unpopular with the Irish.
In Belfast, there were many shootings and ruthless murders between July 1920 and July 1921. Many of the Catholic clergy supported the so called Anglo-Irish War, whose object was a completely independent Ireland. Over the centuries, the British has resisted this, fearing to have an enemy on our flank, possibly supported by a European country, and one moreover so situated geographically as to be able to control our essential sea lanes and so our destiny.
The result of this trouble was the Anglo-Irish Treaty of December 1921, which gave all Ireland Dominion Status, with Ulster given the right to opt out, and remain part of the United Kingdom while Great Britain reserved the right to keep certain ports in Ireland including Queenstown, Berehaven and Loch Swilly. This right was given up by our Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain in December 1938, to the surprise of the Irish Government, as a gesture to the Nazis, thereby greatly handicapping us in the protection of shipping in the Second World War and costing hundreds of lives and many ships.
However, once this settlement of December 1921 was made, a terrible and most destructive civil war broke out in Ireland against the new
Irish Government – Irishman v Irishman.This was a worse trouble for Ireland than the previous one. How the Irish love a fight! As before, this too often deteriorated into cold blooded murder.
The Irish Government forces took a year to put it down, and at the end of 1923 the worst was over and the Government had some 70,000 prisoners on their hands and 70 executions had been carried out by them in this year.
British Voices Page 6