The Accident
by Beverley Rannow
Sandy, the pilot, called out to me across the tarmac, “Hey Harry, we have to head to France. I need you to fly shotgun in case we need repairs. Should be back in time for “brew up”.
“Righty oh! We’ll need a cuppa char after that” I replied.
It was a cloudy day during World War II. I, Harold Mahy, was an engine mechanic on the flying boats out of Calshot, England. We loaded up the Sutherland and made it ready for the patrol along the French coast. We needed to check German positions but getting too close was dangerous. We tried to stay far away from gun torrents eager to score a hit on English planes.
The coast was thankfully quiet that day as we turned west to return home. But, about half way across the English Channel things turned less quiet.
Sandy swore, “Oh the Devil” as one of the engines spluttered and stopped. I scrambled to see if I could do anything from inside the plane.
“I’m losing controls!” yelled Sandy. I rushed to the tail to try and access the rudder controls. We were quickly losing altitude. There was nothing that could be done.
“Bail! Bail!” yelled Sandy. I heard him eject out of the plane. Then I heard the co-pilot eject. The gunner, Joe started yelling at me, “Harry, Harry we’ve got to get out, grab your parachute.” I heard the hatch opening and Joe jumped out, but I was stuck in the tail of the plane.
The plane continued its nosedive through the air and hit the water. It quickly started to fill. I wondered if this was the end. The plane moved up and down as it slowly slid deeper and deeper in the water. I reminded myself that I could swim, I learned to swim before I could walk. I swam my way to the hatch, with no small effort, and shot up to the surface.
I looked around trying to find my friends in the choppy English Channel. Spotting them, I swam towards them. Sandy, catching sight of me, said, “Thank God, I thought you were lost. I managed a may day, they should be looking for us soon.”It took an hour or so, but we were rescued from the very cold waters of the English Channel shivering as we were hauled on to a British navel ship. We arrived back at base wearing navy uniforms to the ribbing of our unit.
My quick ascent to the surface damaged my hearing on the left side. Had to remind people to stand to my right when they talked to me, but it was a reminder of how lucky I was to survive the devastation of World War II. However, til the day I died, I stubbornly refused to wear a hearing aid, after all, sometimes it’s convenient not to hear!
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