A Week on Crete, by Phil Jones

The boys at the Entrance Gate to the Maleme Memorial

Obviously, one doesn’t go all the way to Crete without trying to enjoy some sort of a holiday and Linda and I had arrived the previous Tuesday, to be accommodated by Peter and Mary Gregory. Holiday? The next morning - rather too early if you include the time zone change - Pete and I walked the Tavronitis Bridge and the battlefield of Hill 107 with a local guide, which had been organised by 33 Sqn Ass’n. This culminated in a fine lunch at a local taverna and we were both given books on the battle, in appreciation of how much effort we had put into improving the site. Many more drinks would have followed but, unfortunately, our Wives turned up so play time was over

Tavronitis Bridge

That evening 33 held a sunset ceremony. Being early, we visited the nearby German cemetery (for 4400 men, most of whom died on 20/ 21 May 1941, we noticed). On leaving, I recognised a veteran “Fallschirmjaeger”. His career was somewhat later than the Maleme drop but he has two relatives who will remain on Crete forever and this was a pilgrimage. He accepted an invitation to join us for 33’s Sunset Ceremony and, slightly nervously, arrived at the gate. I escorted him in and used my limited German to say that he was amongst friends. Bernd Rudiger Lehman was a Major in his day and he  was stunned to be so warmly welcomed and conversed with in his native tongue by so many present. Whilst not enjoying perfect health, Bernd hopes to join us next year for our Saturday ceremony - and he suggested that we might join him at the German equivalent. This was probably the most moving incident of the week and our shared philosophy of “Never again, please God” ensured that, when we subsequently met at Souda Bay, we met as friends. It was emotional…

Major Bernd Rudiger Lehman with Phil

As the sun went down, no beers and no wines were damaged in getting over that meeting. I lie. 

Thursday saw everybody involved in our Parade convene at the memorial site for Embassy led discussions and briefings concerning the ceremony and meet and greet. Countless alterations came our way but you have to just roll with the punches. Fortunately for us all, the excellent 30 Sqn Project officer (Sgt Chris Mackenzie) had married Joy, not only an RAF Sgt techie in her own right but also the daughter of the Head Brewer at the Xapya Brewery - pronounced Charma - which only required a 5 or 6 kms drive. OC 30 had clearly chosen his pro-jo wisely and a highly educational brewery tour followed. Possibly involving some generous sampling and certainly involving a generous lunch. A late afternoon stagger around Aptera, a 600 BC township overlooking Souda Bay, plus the newer Turkish built fortress nearby completed the cultural aspect of the trip. 

Our first real “day off” involved wading thigh deep across the Mediterranean, to an island off the South coast beach of Elafonissi but it was worth it for the view alone and yet another wonderful supper led us into the big day reported previously. After our commemoration the day continued with the Souda Bay CWG ceremony, attended by more Ambassadors and Greek Ministers than I have ever found in any one place and time. It was my turn to lay the Souda Bay wreath and I am delighted that as I followed two Master Aircrew from 33 Ass’n there is photographic evidence that we walked in step, turned together and generally got it right!

Having 30 Sqn present the wreaths to the wreath layers and those individuals operate in waves certainly sped the ceremony up and we needed to: there was a special evening ahead for a small number of us. A Royal Reception was being held in town and the four of us had been invited, along with Wg Cdr (Ret’d) Dave Stewart of 33 Ass’n, without whose help our Maleme project would have failed at an early stage. We four stayed in town, determined to enjoy FCO wines and canapés to the maximum and that only got better when Dave discovered that a very, very good Scotch was also available. Oh dear….

Phil Jones, Wg Cdr Dave Stewart (Retd), and Pete Gregory

The former town arsenal was the venue for our reception. A beautifully restored building, only about 200-300 yards from the Harbourside hotel that Ascot used to frequent “back in the day”. I must confess that it feels rather empowering - it’s certainly, delightful - when you get addressed by your Christian name by Royalty, without having to repeat what it is! (There again, I was always a big fan of Princess Anne, so beguiling me didn’t take much!). I recalled our previous meeting, at Lyneham following the Ethiopian Grain Bombing of 1984/ 85, where she “got me into trouble”. (Now, that phrase certainly got Royal attention but, happily, she was still smiling!). We had embarked on a genuinely interesting conversation about operating despite/ under a corrupt political regime - something I realised she knew a bit about! Anyway, I ended up pinged for a weekend of SDO for “monopolising the Princess” plus an extra day for my defence that actually, Sir, she had been monopolising me. (For the F540: it was worth every moment of that cruel and unusual punishment).

Throughout, of course, HRH was charm personified and all of us enjoyed both her and her husband’s company. Sir Tim told us the story behind the bell from HMS Trump very amusingly but that can remain private. He seemed very well at home, particularly when chatting with the Royal Marine Director of Music who was with us. The RN sticking together, I suppose! The Princess Royal concluded the evening by delivering a speech that showed she was very well versed with what had happened on Crete - 30 and 33 getting more name checks than perhaps we deserved but let’s not quibble over that. If she had notes, I certainly never saw them. Impressive!

A second example of “shifting the hoi polloi so that HRH could escape without anyone noticing” followed, as we were ushered into the adjacent square for the Royal Marines drums to beat a fantastic retreat. The Red Arrows pilots watched on, appreciating a highly choreographed display, worthy of their own. Pete and I had a happy interlude when we bumped into Jon Peters (former Tornado pilot who was captured after ejecting during Gulf 1) before retiring to a local restaurant for a late light supper.

Royal Marines Beat the Retreat

Sunday saw us negotiate a massive breakfast before negotiating the long breakwater to the lighthouse at Charnia. We knew we had the best spot to view the Red Arrows display because a) they had told us the night before and b) we found their camera team and commentator! The reduction to seven aircraft displays is a massive loss in every way - and I thought they were using less G during some positioning manoeuvres than previously - but their precision and theatre is every bit as fantastic as you would expect and the display was excellent. Their final, vertically stacked flypast using the blue and white smoke of our host Country’s flag shows just how much “soft-diplomatic” thought goes into their display.

You would think we’d all had enough but there was just time to take in the closing ceremony which is held at Maleme airfield and involves lots of political speeches (as if I would know with my two words of Greek!). Those were followed by a series of 1200 feet para drops out of a CH47 (Chinook) by the Commando forces based at Maleme which gave way to a spirited display from an F16, which approached from behind the crowd, directly overflying Hill 107, where our memorial stands. A cacophony of afterburner and car alarms followed the jet which preceded to fire off decoy flares as if there was no tomorrow whilst demonstrating just how tightly an agile, lightweight fighter can turn and loop. I bet the pilot was feeling it by the end!

Four bright and bouncing members of the Association awoke the following morning as we had one final rite to perform, namely to walk the Imbros Gorge, an 8 km trek over very rough stones (happily all downhill!). The gorge provided one of the escape routes used by our troops after the island was lost. Whilst navigation couldn’t have been easier, with the gorge being only 3 or 4 metres wide in places, beneath 50 foot vertical or even overhanging sides, the going was really difficult. One can but imagine how troops must have felt, doing that at night whilst being chased by German forces who enjoyed complete air supremacy.

On reflection, the week was about as wide ranging, challenging and enjoyable as any I have ever spent. Inevitably, it was a bit RAF-centric for my “retired old bloke’s” taste but Peter and Mary ensured that we got the balance between fun and fun just about right. That the Ambassador and Defence Attache were beaming at the closing ceremony (HRH having left by then) sums up their success and that we four were all still smiling happily as we parted suggests our similar success.

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