A Spitfire Pilot Remembers: 22 - Welcoming Three Arab Monarchs
When John M Davis became a Spitfire pilot he never expected that a day would come when he had to entertain three Arab rulers at a desert airstrip. If our relationship with the Arabs is strained, perhaps it is my fault, say John.
The town of Tobruk was a few miles away and occasionally I went into it. It was a wreck of a town after being besieged twice, and there was not much of a civilian population left, although there was still a very small Jewish community there.
Some days later the CO had another announcement for me in the Mess. “Titch, I have just been sent a signal from the French telling me to give full hospitality to the VIP passengers of two Hudson aircraft. They will be landing here for refuelling in a couple of hours and will contain the Sultan of Morocco, the Bey of Tunis and the Emperor of Algeria - all on their way to Mecca to give thanks for the successful outcome of the war and their relief from tyranny. I don’t want to get involved offering hospitality to these Arab gentlemen. I am certain you will do it very well. Over to you.”
The whole concept frightened me because I had neither the experience nor knowledge to handle such visitors, and my knowledge of Arabic was very limited. I could greet and swear, but not much else. As for food, facilities and transport, we were very limited.
I therefore warned the Mess Cook to get the best lunch possible available in two hours time for some 30 VIPs and took our 15cwt truck to the edge of the runway in order to transport these leaders the quarter of a mile from airport to Mess. It was clear there would have to be two journeys at least, and a 15cwt truck with only one proper seat for the co-driver was hardly the sort of transport I would have selected.
In due time the two Hudsons joined the circuit, landed and switched off in front of our very basic control tower. A lot of Arab gentlemen in white cloaks and galhabeers were disgorged. As smartly dressed as was possible, I stepped forward and saluted, but had no clue at all as to who were the princes and who were their servants.
The French captain of one of the aircraft was of some help and selected the three princes and their aides, who were loaded into the truck. One - I am not sure which - had the only comfortable seat. I then drove up to the Mess and they all climbed out of the truck and entered. Realising that I should stay there to offer hospitality, I asked a sergeant to take the truck back and collect the rest, although some walked the distance.
Gradually the full disaster of the occasion evolved. It was inappropriate to have princes and servants in the same Mess. Although I did not realise the problem, the servants did and they sat outside. However, all had to enter in order to use the toilets. Most had little idea how to use a western style toilet. The food was also not exactly a success. The bully beef did not go down at all well. The bread, butter, jam, tinned peaches and tea were a little more successful.
The captain indicated when he would like all his passengers returned to the aircraft. This was not much more successful than the journey following arrival. When they were assembled by their aircraft, many of them placed their prayer mats on the ground and knelt to pray. Finally they were all aboard, engines started and they took off into the east for their next landing at Cairo West en route to Mecca.
I breathed a sigh of relief but had further problems when I saw the toilets. It was suggested that it was my fault that they were in that condition and who did I think was going to clean them up?
Today when I see heads of state arriving and being received with full etiquette, bands, flags and guards of honour, I blush to think of the reception given to three heads of state in 1945. If our relationship with these Arabs is strained, perhaps it is my fault.
