SHIPWRECK – LETTERS FROM DEVERSOIR
Sent by Hamish Brown
2590848 A/C Brown, telephonist at RAF Deversoir in the last year of the station’s existence wrote home regularly. The surname Brown gives the clue why his parents were addressed as Maw and Paw. A group of enthusiasts had constructed a catamaran for sailing in the Bitter Lake, the hulls beaten out from Meteor fuel tanks dropped in the desert and retrieved by the locals keen to make some ‘akka’s’. His brother Ian was doing National Service with REME in Germany.
RAF Deversoir 8/11/54
Dear Maw and Paw,
I have now been shipwrecked. I am quite serious – desert island and all! Six of us were out in our boat, which looks a mixture of Kon Tiki and jet-plane and were cruising on the Bitter Lake beyond the island (the one I swan around) to enjoy a swishing see-saw from the wakes of passing ships. We had our sails up and everything was fine. Then a liner, the Durhan Castle, came out at speed far above the normal – or legal – and after it had passed a sea absolutely surged in, boiling round the point. We turned to face it as usual thinking it would give a good series of dunts.
I was sitting in the bows reading and merely paused to lift my clothes in case any water splashed in. I went on reading. Then in a couple of seconds the finish of our voyaging. The liner sucked the water off the coast and though we were thirty yards away we grounded and swung round just as a most amazingly huge wave reared above us. The next thing I knew was being wheeched away and coming up miles off with water-filled lungs – and then having a right pounding. I still had my book held tight. It was called The Undersea Adventure(!!). I saw wave after wave smashing down on the boat and its poor occupants and then gradually all was still again. We dragged her a bit higher up the beach – she was on it by the end – and took stock. Our pride lay in ruins.
We were a pretty wet sight as we entered camp. We were very lucky: there could have been serious injury. As it is alll the loss is to personal property: shoes, watches, etc ruined. My watch has had it. Och well, it got rid of my cold. Love, Hamish
RAF Deversoir 13/11/54
Dear Ian,
This is the third time only that I have taken up this old machine to type a letter so you will have plenty of mistakes. My teacher won’t allow keeking at the keyboard either. I hear, via home, that you have been to Berlin; was it for pleasure or on duty? Out here we now have the dubious pleasure of Ismailia, Suez and Port Said being in bounds or shortly to be so. I might go to each just for a look and some shopping. Fayid prices are a swindle. There is an angry growl at the NAAFI as the price of cigarettes is going to be almost doubled.
It is the monthly Station Day Off so on this raw and misty morning I am all alone in the signals building. WE GET NO DAY OFF EVER but work our watch regardless, and on such a cold morning it is not pleasant. This is a crock of machine – it does all sorts of daft things even without my fumbling. I’m going to strop and make coffee before I turn into a pillar of sand and ice. (Better now: a three-pint pot of coffee and a pile of toast dripping with aunt Nell’s apricot jam.) There is really very little news from this dead end. Last week we did have one thrill when our boat got wrecked in the wash of a liner and dumped on the island. You’ll get the saga from my letter home when it is passed on.
Going to the pictures was fun as it was – till recently – outdoors under the stars. (Now closed.) some of the films I’ve seen here were Moulin Rouge*, A Day to Remember*, The Holly and the Ivy*, The Good Die Young, Hobson’s Choice* (fun), King Hearts and Coronets* (more fun), O’Rorke of the Mountains, Calamity Jane*, The Planter’s Wife*, Genevieve*, Escape from Fort Bravo, The Seekers, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Well, if they were like these!), The Caine Mutiny*, Salome, Dance Little Lady, Elephant Walk, Hondo, Eight O’Clock Walk, Up to His Neck. (The good ones I’ve marked, several were a waste of time.)
On Tuesday last the Station Church was undedicated. There was a lot of pomp and popery and, being a mixed denominations Church we got roped in too. I had to go trooping around with the Bible in my arms carrying on like a C of E man – this in front of all the OD’s. I came in for quite a lot of teasing and a good time was had by all. I was just dying for someone to drop the brass font-bowl. Now for Church yours truly gets a Land Rover to bump him over the sand to Abu Sultan, the desolation of desolations.
I’ll probably be here till the middle of January. Don’t you escape for good about then? Have you been taking photos on your travels? I am building up a collection – seven countries so far.
But I must get down to my line and security checks. Cheers for now, Ham.
Dear Maw and Paw,
We have no church now! I rather enjoyed the somewhat ceremonious ‘undedication’. Let me describe it.
The procession formed up outside on the verandah – in all eighteen people – from Gp Capt. down to menial airmen. After a prayer and led by the crucifer and his two taperers we entered in procession and filed down to the front, hands clasped, in slow measured step, gave a nod (called a simple obeisance) and turned off into the front row of seats. There then followed the service, a very exultant service and after a few moments’ silence the organ began playing “We love thy ……….oh Lord” (for each appropriate position).
The crucifer and taperers went to the back of the church followed by two servers and the Staff Chaplains, C of E and OD, and the Station Padre. There they undedicated the font bowl and bell. Drawing again to the front the crucifer turned and the servers went behind the lectern/pulpit by which I was standing. Padre then undedicated the Bible and I received it and joined the servers. After another verse the pulpit itself was undedicated. Across the aisle the Book of Common Prayer was undedicated. Then the crucifer, followed by his minions, entered the sanctuary.
In the sanctuary the altar book, the cruets, etc the cross and candles, and the chalice, were given to the appropriate servers who came forward for them. The last Padre Parry took himself.
The church and altar were undedicated, the congregation blessed and “Rise up church of God, go forth from this place”. We did, still in the slow impressive manner, the holy items in our hands. We went out, the doors were shut and we went right around the building to the singing of Onward Christian Soldiers. Here was the order: Crucifer (Dave Lee), Taperers (John, Robin) Candles (John ANO), Cruet (Norman), Book from Altar (Don), Chalice (C of E Padre, Parry), OD Staff Chaplain (Douglas Lewis), C of E Staff Chaplian (?), OD Chaplain (Harper), the Station Commander (now W/C Walker RAF Regt) and wife, S/Ldr Henderson-Beg and wife (stand-in Padre) and the straggle of congregation. Back at the door a final blessing is given and so finis to Deversoir Church. We had a short sing-song before going off and sat in the once holy place eating and smoking.
I was given a great pile of papers and magazines today and spent most of the afternoon sorting them out for the hospital.
After tea I read Oscar Wile’s Florentine Tragedy, a lovely little thing, though my copy is in a slightly worse state after having a swim in the shipwreck. My own play has been read twice now. I am quite pleased with it. Pity is won’t now be performed, everything is closing down.
Tomorrow – or I see it has slipped into being today – I’ll send a note on our trip to Sebeste (Samaria) and that should finish my describing the Moral Leadership Course in Jerusalem. What a number of things to remember!
I’ll send a couple of parcels home next pay day. Also have to think of Christmas. Could you use small rugs? I’ll have a shufty when next in Fayid. I am going to stop and make coffee. Roll on year two: if no worse than the first I will have no complaint.
All my love, Hamish
Footnote:
(Hamish Brown had the unusual situation of conducting services at
Deversoir & Fayid on two Sundays when padres were unavailable. I doubt if
many aircraftsmen ever preached a sermon to their COs)