Library Reference Number: 058
Return to Mull
The mountains of Scotland have claimed many aerial victims, especially during the period of WW2. The following story gives Vivian Thomas' account of returning to the scene of one of those wartime crashes.
In February 1945 I moved from Bomber Command to Transport Command, and was at Prestwick awaiting my first Transport Command posting, when I was appointed to a Court of Inquiry into the crash, in very poor conditions, of a Dakota on the last, Reykjavik - Prestwick, leg from Canada. The aircraft hit the top of Ben Tallaidh in Mull on the evening of 1st February, 1945.
I suppose it would have been in the ensuing week that the inquiry president and I set off in caps, greatcoats and wellies. We took off from Prestwick in a Walrus and landed in Oban harbour. From there an RAF launch took us to Salen, on the east coast of Mull, through the Strait of Lismore, where the water was quite rough. One engine packed up after a short distance. It was impossible to tie up at Salen, so the skipper brought the launch as close as he could o the sloping jetty and we jumped off.
We made the climb from the south side of the 2,500 foot mountain, going through two or three flurries of snow and spotting a large herd of deer. We found the aeroplane near the summit. The starboard wing-tip had hit the side of Ben Tallaidh 100 feet or so from the top and the aircraft slewed round facing uphill before sliding back another 100 feet.
Flares were set off and one of the passengers, a Squadron Leader Auchenvole, went down the mountain in darkness for help. Rescue parties were organised in Salen and Tobermory, the second one including the village doctor, Dr. Flora MacDonald, who attended to the wounded. The pilot, Flight Sergeant Bishop from Cardiff, died during the night, and two passengers were killed including a King's Courier with the Diplomatic Bag strapped to his wrist, who left the aircraft and was crushed to death as it slid down the mountain. The navigator and wireless operator were injured and three of the other passengers also survived.
My wife and I visited Mull and lona with a coach tour in August 1998 and talked to some of the Salen villagers, including the daughter of Dr. MacDonald. It was then that I thought of returning and climbing Ben Tallaidh to see if anything remained of the Dakota - if I could get some press publicity I might manage a good Aircrew Association mention with the possibility of attracting new members (see note below). It had to be soon in case, at 79, advancing decrepitude prevented the climb!!
On Sunday, 4th October 1998, we made our epic climb, the party comprising me and my wife, much younger, two sons, one of whom supervised the whole party, having insisted that he had to be present to take care of his ancient parents, and one daughter-in-law. The ascent, this time from the north - Salen - side, took longer than I expected, with small pieces of aircraft noticed here and there in the burn as we climbed. The remains of the bulk of the Dakota lay in a deep gully about 300 feet below the 2.500 foot summit. This time, the only wild life was a mountain hare, which we disturbed on the way up.
The descent also took longer than I had expected, although the weather was very good, with spells of sunshine to enhance the glorious scenery from the heights.
Towards the bottom of the ben we reached a bothy, where I made an entry in the Visitors' Book, describing the party and the reason for our climb. Then I read the previous entry, made only a month before. It was written by Victoria Honey, a 16 year-old girl from Cardiff, the grand-daughter of the dead pilot, who had come to see where her grandfather had been killed 53 years earlier.
Note: The Sunday Post published a small, very sentimental version of this story, entitled "Tears and happiness for the old airman on Ben Tallaidh" - which made me cringe. It did however, have a good reference to the Aircrew Association, with my telephone number. In the following week, I received 13 calls from prospective new members and had the delight of telephoning our then registrar, dear old Fred MacMillan, each time.
I also have about 8 square feet of fuselage in my garage.