ISBN 0 9588016 3 0
Published by the Church Archivists' Press
Printed by the Woowoomba Education Centre
June 1995
The following is an extract taken from A Dream's Reality
Sicilian Memories
Pachino
To War
On the 21st july, 1943 Tripolitania, and its airfield at Sorman, were consigned to memory, when we, 250 Squadron's remaining North African pilots, headed out over the blue waters of the Mediterranean, past Malta, to Pachino in Sicily. Here No. 239 Wing, with its full complement of "Desert Air Force" squadrons, No's 3 RAAF; 5 SAAF; 112 RAF; 250 RAF; 260 RAF and 450 RAAF, all flying Curtiss Kittyhawk Mk 111's were located and operating.
The weather wasn't particularly nice but the trip was uneventful. We were used to flying almost exclusively over land and as we tracked across the sea and past Malta, our engined, to our now acutely sensitive ears, began to get rougher. The trip was over 200 miles and it was amazing how, after passing the halfway mark, our engines sounded better and better, improving progressively, so much that by the time we reached Sicily, they were humming along as perfectly as ever. The landing field at Pachino was our destination. It was a grass strip, had a hump in the middle and was situated at the south eastern tip of the island.
After landing we were given a very small, triangular, two-man tent and were told to erect it among the grape vines of the vineyard at the end of the airstrip. It was rather arcadian in a way, but at times, proved to be rather noisy.
I don't recall a great deal about the geography of that "strip" except that our "Pilots Mess", on this occassion, was a great big hospital type tent. During this time many interesting events occurred, some of which are related in the following paragraphs.
Sicilian Memories
Pachino
To War
On the 21st july, 1943 Tripolitania, and its airfield at Sorman, were consigned to memory, when we, 250 Squadron's remaining North African pilots, headed out over the blue waters of the Mediterranean, past Malta, to Pachino in Sicily. Here No. 239 Wing, with its full complement of "Desert Air Force" squadrons, No's 3 RAAF; 5 SAAF; 112 RAF; 250 RAF; 260 RAF and 450 RAAF, all flying Curtiss Kittyhawk Mk 111's were located and operating.
The weather wasn't particularly nice but the trip was uneventful. We were used to flying almost exclusively over land and as we tracked across the sea and past Malta, our engined, to our now acutely sensitive ears, began to get rougher. The trip was over 200 miles and it was amazing how, after passing the halfway mark, our engines sounded better and better, improving progressively, so much that by the time we reached Sicily, they were humming along as perfectly as ever. The landing field at Pachino was our destination. It was a grass strip, had a hump in the middle and was situated at the south eastern tip of the island.
After landing we were given a very small, triangular, two-man tent and were told to erect it among the grape vines of the vineyard at the end of the airstrip. It was rather arcadian in a way, but at times, proved to be rather noisy.
I don't recall a great deal about the geography of that "strip" except that our "Pilots Mess", on this occassion, was a great big hospital type tent. During this time many interesting events occurred, some of which are related in the following paragraphs.
Edit caption:
The following is an extract taken from A Dream's Reality
Sicilian Memories
Pachino
To War
On the 21st july, 1943 Tripolitania, and its airfield at Sorman, were consigned to memory, when we, 250 Squadron's remaining North African pilots, headed out over the blue waters of the Mediterranean, past Malta, to Pachino in Sicily. Here No. 239 Wing, with its full complement of "Desert Air Force" squadrons, No's 3 RAAF; 5 SAAF; 112 RAF; 250 RAF; 260 RAF and 450 RAAF, all flying Curtiss Kittyhawk Mk 111's were located and operating.
The weather wasn't particularly nice but the trip was uneventful. We were used to flying almost exclusively over land and as we tracked across the sea and past Malta, our engined, to our now acutely sensitive ears, began to get rougher. The trip was over 200 miles and it was amazing how, after passing the halfway mark, our engines sounded better and better, improving progressively, so much that by the time we reached Sicily, they were humming along as perfectly as ever. The landing field at Pachino was our destination. It was a grass strip, had a hump in the middle and was situated at the south eastern tip of the island.
After landing we were given a very small, triangular, two-man tent and were told to erect it among the grape vines of the vineyard at the end of the airstrip. It was rather arcadian in a way, but at times, proved to be rather noisy.
I don't recall a great deal about the geography of that "strip" except that our "Pilots Mess", on this occassion, was a great big hospital type tent. During this time many interesting events occurred, some of which are related in the following paragraphs.
Sicilian Memories
Pachino
To War
On the 21st july, 1943 Tripolitania, and its airfield at Sorman, were consigned to memory, when we, 250 Squadron's remaining North African pilots, headed out over the blue waters of the Mediterranean, past Malta, to Pachino in Sicily. Here No. 239 Wing, with its full complement of "Desert Air Force" squadrons, No's 3 RAAF; 5 SAAF; 112 RAF; 250 RAF; 260 RAF and 450 RAAF, all flying Curtiss Kittyhawk Mk 111's were located and operating.
The weather wasn't particularly nice but the trip was uneventful. We were used to flying almost exclusively over land and as we tracked across the sea and past Malta, our engined, to our now acutely sensitive ears, began to get rougher. The trip was over 200 miles and it was amazing how, after passing the halfway mark, our engines sounded better and better, improving progressively, so much that by the time we reached Sicily, they were humming along as perfectly as ever. The landing field at Pachino was our destination. It was a grass strip, had a hump in the middle and was situated at the south eastern tip of the island.
After landing we were given a very small, triangular, two-man tent and were told to erect it among the grape vines of the vineyard at the end of the airstrip. It was rather arcadian in a way, but at times, proved to be rather noisy.
I don't recall a great deal about the geography of that "strip" except that our "Pilots Mess", on this occassion, was a great big hospital type tent. During this time many interesting events occurred, some of which are related in the following paragraphs.
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