Roddy Reflections - 3 Telecommunications

                
  
Tales From the Brothers Roddy:

          Jim 300 & Dick 310

"THE TRUCULENT TURTLE" by 300

Recently, the 50th anniversary of an epic flight from Australia to the United States took place and I thought it could be of interest to record some of my recollections of the departure of the "Truculent Turtle", a P2V-1 Neptune serial number 89082, of the U.S. Navy.  I was fortunate to be present at the RAAF Station PEARCE on the afternoon the aircraft departed.
Since the specifics of the flight are common knowledge, I will not dwell upon them. Suffice to say that the aircraft grossed 38 tons (12 tons over design weight), that it carried 28,600 litres of fuel, that it flew 18,082 km in 55 hours and 17 minutes and alight at COLOMBS OHIO,with a fuel reserve of 450 litres. The flight still stands as, and doubtless will remain, as a world record for distance and endurance for a piston engine aircraft. All that kind of information is contained in official records. I intend to record some of the interesting and sometimes hilarious events which preceded this magnificent achievement, events which do not appear in official records.

On arrival in Australia the Truculent Turtle was positioned at GUILDFORD civil airport where some tests of the RATO (Rocket Assisted Take-Off) technique were undertaken. These tests proceeded to the satisfaction of the crew, but not to the satisfaction of an apiarist who had deployed his beehives near the end of the runway. Under the stimulus of billowing clouds of acrid greyish-white smoke, all his bees (how else?) buzzed off!!  I believe he successfully sued the U.S. for compensation.

I was serving at the time at RAAF Station PEARCE as the sole LAC/station/W/T operator (all the others had been posted for discharge) so had an inside view of the comings and goings associated with preparations for the flight, and somewhere among my bits and pieces is the copy of a signaI sent on the old Teleprinter to Melbourne alerting all our remainin D/F stations and aeradio stations in northern Australia, PNG and adjacent islands to standby when the actual ETD was known.
My twin brother, also a WT operator tells me he was obliged to maintain a 4 hour listening watch in the MORESBY signals office for the period that the Truculent Turtle was likely to be within radio range of MORESBY. But, back to the scene at PEARCE……...

The aircraft was moved to PEARCE about mid-September and parked adjacent to the 25 Squadron hangar with strict injunctions that no RAAF personnel were to go aboard. One did, in fact, a mate of mine, to replace one of the black boxes which had gone U/S, but he was strongly encouraged to keep his sightings to himself.

Nearing the anticipated day of departure the Turtle was moved to the eastern end of the East-West runway, 6,000 feet of lightly sealed asphalt. It was placed on jacks and fuelled with AVGAS, wing tanks, tip tanks and internal tanks, accounting no doubt, for that 12 tons overweight.   Came the time for departure and removal of the jacks and the T.T. subsided gently about 10cm through the light pavement. The tracks, a fine replica of the main gear supporting that 38 tons, were still visible years later until the strip was refurbished.

On the actual day of departure, (there had been weather induced delays) late afternoon on a beautiful spring day, there was a deal of ceremony at, and about the aircraft, all being filmed by Cinesound or some such. Things like Mayor Joe Totterdell (famous for his backless suit to counter Perth's summer temperatures) handing the skipper a letter of goodwill for delivery to President Truman, of JOEY the young kangaroo bound for the WASHINGTON Zoo, being eyed with intent by Flt Lt McFarlane's stroppy Airedale dog, through a sea of legs surrounding this august ceremony.

At a critical time just before boarding, the dog seized his opportunity, flashed through all those legs and fell upon the startled 'roo which he began to devour before separation could be accomplished.  I'm not sure whether Commander Tom Davis the pilot was more in awe of  JOEY or the transport officer's dog. However, I left the scene at this point convinced that there could not be more entertainment to eclipse that little episode. In anticipation of further development I took my place atop a fuel tanker about half way down the strip and back from the edge by about 200 yards.  We knew the next few minutes would be critical but hoped for the best.

The T.T. duly fired up and went to full power.  At brake release the machine waddled sluggishly down the runway and one needed not to be a Barnes Wallace to realize that they would not get airborne on engines alone as they were only doing about 50-60 knots when they reached us.  Suddenly, there was an almighty flash and bang (like a 25 pounder), flame and smoke and a dramatic increase in acceleration. I can still see those curved smoke trails as the RATO bottles virtually threw the aircraft up to about 1,500 feet before burn-out, still within the boundaries of RAAF Station PEARCE.  From this spectacular blast-off the T.T. waddled westward – airborne this time - to jettison the RATO gear at sea before setting course eastward over ALICE SPRINGS, COOKTOWN, BOUGANVILLE and all points east.

We had no advice of its progress until Wednesday as the crew maintained strict radio silence as far as Australian stations were concerned.  As a matter of interest, in the signal referred to earlier, the pilot had stressed the possibility of a complete electrical failure.

I mentioned earlier that the day of departure was a splendid spring day (ATD 1810 hours on Sunday 29 th September 1946).  It was indeed, and being almost totally windless, RAAF PEARCE, like, the GUILDFORD bees was buried under a cloud of greyish-white smoke for the next hour or so.

HUMOUR IN UNIFORM BY 310

Initiative
In the days on Kai Tak in 1949-50 it was customary for the Dairy Farm ice-cream pedlar to hawk his wares around the base and when the lads were a bit short of the readies, allow them to ‘put it on the slate’ until the next payday.
This worked pretty well until the poor old bugger was in the red to the tune of several hundred dollars.
The SP’s were called in to audit the book only to find that only about 10 percent of the names were genuine, the rest being booked up to ‘G.C. Worrell’ - the base commander was then - Group Captain Worrell.
Who said the RAF lacked initiative?

Lollies?
Some readers may be aware that in days long ago, (the details of which are now shrouded in the mists of antiquity and the truth distorted by the passage of time) that certain members of 3Telu rented two premises in Scarborough, where off-duty troops spent their stand-downs.  One was in what is now known as Gildercliffe street and owned by an earlier-day edition of the Reverend Fred Nile, and the other, a house owned by one of the Base Chefs in Alice Street.  It was in the latter domicile that this event occurred.
If rumour-mongers are to be believed both these venues were the scene of days of unbridled lechery and nights of bacchanalian debauchery. Suffice to say, it was not unknown for young ladies to be seen occasionally in both places, and to put not too fine a point on it, and to acknowledge the frailties of human nature, there were signs that extra-curricular activities did in fact,take place. This was manifested by a dish of contraceptive suppositories under the trade name of ‘Capsulex’ sitting on the sideboard or mantelpiece.  (The writer hastens to add that he had little knowledge of these objects, relying instead on the proven effectiveness of total abstinence.)
Anyway, one of the ,'inmates" of the Alice Street house saw these attractively packaged items, unwrapped one and stuck it in his gob.  Several minutes later, and frothing at the mouth like a rabid hound, he uttered the famous words:-  "Geez, I don't think much of youse bloke's lollies! "

3TU Memories
by
Richard R. Roddy  (Operator 310)
(Typed verbatim from hand written notes)

First of all, Jock Southwell.   One Saturday morning he was hurrying down the main drag to Group Captain Worrell's parade ground trying to fasten his wrist strap, with the first cigarette of the day in his lips when he saw an RAF FLTLT bearing down on him.   He threw a "bone" to the officer, who was so startled that he yelled "That man, don't you know you can't smoke with a cigarette in your mouth?"
You will see what he meant.

We had a Cpl DI nick-named "Cyclops" who made a habit of checking any troops heading from Sigs School down the "Burma  Road" to the domestic area without an authorising "chit".   He bailed Jock up and in a whining monotone, spoke thus; "Where do you think you're going, no by Christ you're not, you'll do guard for this. 12 to 2 , how do you like that, not much good, eh?"

A group of young ladies was joking and gasping over an attractive coin purse one of the lads had brought in to the office.   The exterior was covered in a soft fur while the inside was a soft, pliable leather.   The girls were rubbing it across their cheeks and hands and asking where they could get one.   It was dropped like a hot potato when someone informed the assembly that it was once part of a buck kangaroo!

I have touched lightly on the fact that we recruited a few W/T operators from the UK, some valuable such as Norrie Cross, J.O. Williams and Crumpet and some other scum - Ted Burland, ..... Steward and Fred Cave.   Cave was arrested in South Australia.   Barry Millar was tasked with taking the Setroom diary to South Australia as it recorded the first reference to Cave's absence.   He was found guilty of desertion by a Court Martial.   Never heard of the punishment awarded and never saw him again.   The other two scumbags booked a sea passage back to the UK after going through my photo album and taking any photos that appealed to them.   The old dictum about never stealing from a messmate never crossed their thieving minds.

It seems "Cutlass"(see following account) and Sloan were accused of selling their passports (unlikely) but the CO "Smiler" Barnes called me in to his office and accused me of mishandling my shift, inasmuch that I was also responsible for their off-duty actions.   I insisted this was out of the question and what were SPs employed for?   He acknowledge this but I heard no more about such rot.

This tale doesn't occur on 3TU but involves two of the "First 10", twin brother Jim and me.   At the time of this shemozzle Jim was in the Exchange Post at Hickam Base, Hawaii and I was Command Intello at Coventry  St Melbourne, whose main duty was ensuring that the popsies in the typing pool were not disposing of classified copies of carbon paper and were not putting it in the ordinary bins - exciting work.
Anyway, I was sent to Canberra leading a security team for a SEATO Conference.   The US rep was a 2-star USAF General, apparently a buddy of WGCDR Terry Paget, who asked me to tell the General that he would make contact with him after the first session.   I was dressed in a pretty smart civilian suit and passed the message on.   I greeted the General, who was eyeing me off with a most puzzled look.   When he finally contacted Terry Paget it went like this; "I flew my own Boeing 707 down here and I want someone to tell me how that S.O.B. Roddy beat me down".



This next account details the events which dogged this young member during his short time with 3TU.   
To begin, he reversed over and killed, the 18 month old child of an RAF F/O and his wife.   He picked oup the .38 calibre pistol and without looking to see if it was loaded, pulled the trigger.   It was loaded and bullet passed through the west wall of the setroom and about 2 feet from my spine.   I made the mistake of loaning him my matched set of golf clubs for 9 holes adjacent to the Chequers.   When he had finished, instead of putting the clubs in his car, he left them just outside the pub door, where the first customer out and needing a 6-iron, had one there for the taking.   He replaced it within a few weeks, probably with one stolen from someone else's bag.

My account of the deeds and misdeeds of our hero centre around a visit he paid to a house about 1/2  km from our original flat.   On the mantle piece was a dish holding a dozen or so contraceptive suppositories "Capulex" brand from memory.   He eyed these medications for a while, before sticking one in his gob.   Within minutes he was frothing at the mouth like rabid dog but he managed the following utterence "I don't think much of youse blokes' lollies".   From this point onward it was clear he was losing his grip on reality, resulting in admission to a certain ward in Hollywood Military Hospital.
The only person he would talk to was brother Jim who would have to drive to Hollywood and see how he was getting along.   Not too well and he was discharged under the provisions of "No more of Service".

I mentioned the SEATO Conference but neglected to mention the UK rep.   It was an Admiral, with gold rings ranging from just above his wrist joint almost to his elbow.   Following some discussion about who would assume the position of Secretary General and a suitable farewell and the word "farewelling".   This stirred the Admiral to action and in a gruff tone said, "There is no such word as "farewelling" in the English Language".   Having this pearl of wisdom delivered to the infidels with whom he was forced to associate, he retracted into the realm where Admirals go when he had saved them from a heinous grammatical error.

John Malone did about 20,000 km on the back of my BSA bike without even a scratch but suddenly perished when falling from a window during some ill-performed hi-jinks in the Officers' Mess at Frognall.

Sqn Ldr "Shorty" Main, one-time Radio Officer at 3TU had on his staff at Pearce a Radtech G known as "The Dragon".   He summoned Dragon to his office one day and addressed him along these lines; "Dragon, there's a C47 on the 25 Sqn hard stand.   Get on it and fly out to Cook and fix the NDB which has crapped itself".   A short time later, Dragon was back and said to Shorty, "Sir, I can't fly on that Dak because of the pilot".   Shorty enquired, "What the hell's wrong with the pilot"?  "Sir, it is Sqn Ldr Saint George".

There is one more member of 3TU who has been a guest of the Fort Stanley Military Correction Establishment.   The member involved was entrusted to guard 2 truck-mounted Precision Approach Radars which were to be used in forthcoming London to Christchurch air race.   It was pretty cold, so he climbed into the cab of one and dozed off.   First visitor- the Orderly Officer and rest is history.   It would be interesting if my assumption as to his identity is correct.

My final piece concerning brother Jim was in 1964 when I was in my last year as a Desk Officer in DAFI
(Directorate of Air Force Intelligence) and clean shaven, when Jim came from 3TU on a staff visit sporting an extensive red moustache.   I had a flat on the 6th floor of Bradon Flats just a short chip-shot from Central Canberra.   I told him I was booked for a golf match at mid-day but would be finished at 4pm, so that if he got a cab out to Federal GC at this time, we would have a few beers and then go uptown for a meal.   As I approached the 18th green there he was standing just outside the club house and I saw a chap walk up to him.   I thought this is fine - someone who knows him and some company until I putt out.   I noticed this individual only spent a matter of seconds with JFR before hurrying down to the car park and heading toward town.   When we made contact, Jim was as angry as a bull-ant and said
"Who was that dopey bugger?"   Apparently Ernie Stanton, an Equipo and not the sharpest knife in the drawer, had approached Jim thusly, "Hey Dick! What's with the false mo?" and grasped one end of it, in an effort to remove it. "Let go you stupid bugger, there's Dick on the putting green".   Just shows what an innocent twin can get into.

This account is of a more serious note but involves members of 3TU, some of whom should have used what brains they had to the intended effect.   3TU's contribution to Sir William Penny's detonation of 2 atomic devices at Emu Field, Northeast of Woomera.   At least 4 aircraft - 2 long-nosed Lincolns from the RAAF and 2 Canberras from the RAF were tasked with following.   The atomic cloud as it drifted in a generally Southeasterly direction across the continent.   Contact with the Lincolns was by radio transmission containing latitude and longitude, altitude and temperature etcetera and while searching, the word xxxxx had to precede the report and once the cloud had been located, each report had to contain "True Love".   Our smart 3TU operator who obviously had not attended the pre-flight briefing thought the Lincoln op was trying to be funny and ignored the "true" and left the aircraft flying in the atomic cloud.   I heard a rumour that one of the Canberra crew had suffered from over-exposure to atomic radiation but I had nothing to substantiate it.   My team during this time included Bill French, "Beetles" Guyer, Steve Knight, Bill Mengerson and another, whose name escapes me, but at a subsequent posting to HK, was apprehended at Changi in activities with a group of sexual deviants, resulting in a prompt return to Australia and dismissal from the RAAF.   But back to operations.   Teletype was from Woomera, the Admin building to Sydney by landline, while air-ground-air traffic was maintained from a hut on "G" Range a couple of miles distant.   From memory one SqnLdr Ted Pickerd by name, was more interested in the lyrics of "Some Enchanted Evening" from South Pacific than matters nuclear.   I think Beetles was in the best position to enlighten him.

Frederick K. Howley -- We had 2 pretty serious run-ins.   The first was once when I returned to the flat during a period of "black-out" due to power shortages and heard the sound of girlish laughter.   I took up a stance with my back to a large window, not realising I was silhouetted.   I didn't care anyway, except the lass whose laughter detached herself from Fred's clutches and came close, making most alluring advances to me.   Fred insisted that I had come on and pounced on the lass.   I assured it wasn't in my nature to go around "pouncing" on girls.   Out in the street when the girl had gone home, he had a handful of my shirt and was waving a tiny fist under my nose.   He was lucky, because I had a smoke in one hand or they may have found his head rolling around in the gutter if it came to fisticuffs.

The second occasion, when he was commissioned and he took over as SOPSO from Col Hickey, he called me in to his office and accused me of withholding vital information from him.   After 2.5 years as a Desk Officer in DAFI, I had a good idea what we were looking for and that our system had served Col Hickey very well.   He damped down a bit, I must say in his defence, that he could forgive and forget.   When the girl mentioned above was engaged to me in 1952 he was the first to congratulate us and to celebrate this he made a series of hoots outside the Savoy, in imitation of the small fallow deer which appeared occasionally at the old work site at Tai Po Sai.

Forgot to mention CO WGCDR Faint when writing about Fred Howley.   Every working day the good CO with Fred on his heels, would enter the underground, not to see how the doggo "take" had gone but to inspect the 10ft X 10ft piece of linoleum on some of the floor had been polished a high degree of shine by the doggo crew.   Couldn't give a rats bum about the real purpose of the "cover".

At one stage GCHQ sent out an aerial/antenna expert by the name of Jamieson, a large man with a thick thatch of red hair and handlebar mo to match.   His first experiment was a "longwave" 300 yards long, with the Northern end anchored to the top of a dead tree in a paddock opposite our main gate and the Southern end in the rear of a rack in the "underground".   On this day Jamieson was behind the rack doing some unseen adjustments when there was a blinding flash and a loud bang caused by a lightening strike.   Our hero emerged with hair standing on end, mo a tangled mess and bulging eyes and no way he was going back until the small storm had passed.

In the over 20 years I was associated I cannot recall operations being suspended due to thunder storms.   One amusing anecdote comes to mind while Quentin Foster was SOPSO.   He had discovered several empty beer bottles left there by one of the mechanics and his WO mate.   He called me into his office and spoke along these lines - "I know you are a steady type and it wasn't you who was responsible", but I want you to keep an eye out for the culprits.   At this stage he was wearing shorts and long socks.   The unit cat saw this and from a couple of feet away leapt at Q's leg and sank its claws (painfully) into his leg.
It lightened an otherwise melancholy exchange because I wasn't the angel he made me out to be!

An event of some note occurred in the 90s when 3TU was awarded the Governor General's banner for "25 years of meritorious service" by the then Governor General, an ex-speed cop from Brisbane.  I forget his surname ((Hayden)) but his Christian name was Bill!   Later on I was privileged to accompany Jim Noble to Point Cook where the Colours were "laid up" in the chapel of the RAAF Academy.   That was on the Monday so I delayed my return flight until Thursday, spending the time with youngest daughter Jenny and her kids at Mt Waverley.

Another event of note was the opening of the new Ops building which concentrated most of the functions previously performed in scattered huts, under one roof.   The Eastern aspect was the set room with the CO's office on the North East corner, followed on the Northern side and looking West was SOPSO, Regulating Office, Radio Officer's office and finally, next to the main entrance, the reproduction facility with its Gestetner apparatus to duplicate the massive amount of "hard copy" versus signalled material.   The West wall held the air conditioning plant.   The Southern aspect held the class room and a few small storage rooms.   The interiors held the main processing room and the cypher room.   I think this was opened in 1965.   The unit had an emu and several kangaroos all of which were very tame and would come to my window looking for some crusts which they knew I had saved for them.   Even when the emu was banished back to the bush, months later when I had occasion to visit the rubbish tip old emu came running up to me and sat down near me.   It loved to have its stubby winglets scratched
and would stay all day if one had time to spare.

Toward the end of my RAAF service the Unit had installed a CDAA D/F system - a Centrally Directed Aerial Array.   This was located in a paddock to the East of 3TU and consisted of a control room surrounded by about 30, 25-30 ft poles making a circle with a 30 ft diameter.   The poles were placed in a vertical aspect and wired into a rotating armature in the control room.   Connection to the set room was by a multitude of coaxial cables.   The whole facility was referred to as "the elephant enclosure".
Early in the installation phase, apparently a mouse was minced up, causing a host of short circuits on the rotating armature apparatus.   When this was tidied up all was ready for a field test.   I contacted the Captain of a TAA civil aircraft and asked him if he would assist in testing the facility and he was very interested and eager to help.   I asked him to five us a call when inbound from Melbourne and nearing the WA coast and to keep a record precisely where he was. according to his familiarity with the area.   We took his call and not only provided a bearing but also the range.   We were within yards of where he was.   He could see the benefit of this if ever an aircraft was in trouble.   Apart from this facility the unit had also about 6 Rhombics looking North and 3 log periodics with rotatable 12 or 15 horizontal elements but I think we no longer had any use for Jamieson's long wire.   I have mentioned the co-axial connection between CDAA and the set room.   What I didn't mention was that all that wire was in a 12 inch X 12 inch channel and snakes used to get in it but by the sandy and fragile soil they couldn't get out.

Of all the 900 or so who have been part of the staff of 3TU I don't think any individual has achieved notoriety to the same depth as LAC Alan Whatman, "Cutlass", although "Deadly" Williams would run a close second.

This report follows the exploits of Cutlass when he was drunk and causing mayhem at the Chequers Hotel and someone called for the SPs.   FSgt Kenyon (Snip) and his Cpl offsider (Snoop) attended.   Cutlass was arrested and the first of 3 charges was made.   All 3 charges were the same except for location and were levied under Section 40 of the Manuel of Air Force Law - "Conduct to the prejudice
of good order and discipline".   When ordered to enter the Service Police vehicle, he did say "Get (expletive) you SP bastard.   No (expletive) is going to tell me what to do".   On ordering the individual to leave the vehicle at the main gate of RAAF Base Pearce did say (as above).   On ordering the airman to enter a cell in the guard room, did say (as above).   His misdemeanors did not warrant a Court Martial but were well below the powers of punishment the CO could award so Cutlass received 15 days "in the jug".   As we went to work each day in the bus, the prisoner would wave to us as if he was enjoying his confinement.

And so endeth the lesson.

Postscript

I mentioned "Deadly" Williams' claim to notoriety in my main submission but neglected to provide details.
Here goes.   Because we had won our cricket match at Kai Tak on the Saturday, our skipper, Dickie Blythe, invited the team for drinks at the Kowloon Cricket Club.   I left early as I was on duty in the facility on The Peak, Batty's Belvedere, so it wasn't until breakfast next morning that I learned the ghastly details.   Cpl Peter was asleep on the floor of the Weapons Carrier which had carried us from our home base at Little Sai Wan.   Deadly, who was an inexperienced driver and even a very nervous passenger, decided he would drive.   In this case his erratic efforts attracted the attention of a pair of "Red Caps" - Military Police.   When they had him cornered in a cul de sac, our hero disembarked and flattened the 2 MPs.   After a struggle he was overcome and taken into custody.   After the inevitable Court Martial and fair sojourn in Fort Stanley Military Corrective Establishment, he came to my billet in the Sgts Mess, begging me to get him a bottle of whisky.   I told him to go to buggery as that was what got him in trouble.   He went away muttering about "Skinflint" miserable bloody Sergeants.   Years later when he had left the RAAF and settled in Busselton, we would keep in touch on the internet and I never heard of any misdemeanors committed down there.   He was a good fast bowler in our team but after seeing that big belly bouncing up and down he was ready for a spell after 6 or 7 Overs.   A "Deadly" troop but a good buddy nevertheless.