Memoir of the Career of Thomas Edward Rogers [‎42r] (83/118)

other part of the world". His picture was hardly overdrawn but was of course
the basis for his demand for the more seaworthy transport, independent of local
hiring with its risk of intelligence leaks, which was finally met, at least for
me, by the motorised dhow A term adopted by British officials to refer to local sailing vessels in the western Indian Ocean. .
The Political Resident A senior ranking political representative (equivalent to a Consul General) from the diplomatic corps of the Government of India or one of its subordinate provincial governments, in charge of a Political Residency. wrote further: "Mr Rogers was taken over by the Navy
to Khor Fakkan on the Batinah Coast to interrogate a survivor from the submarine
destroyed there by the R.A.F.". Alas, my keenness to see at closest quarters
my first live enemy and to put to use my once good German was dashed. By the
time we arrived a no doubt right change of decision had been made and the
survivor whisked off to Cairo to be questioned, I assumed, by professionals with
knowledge of submarine warfare able to make best use of what he might divulge
about his U boat’s activities around the northern limit, as far as we could
judge, of German operations off South Africa and in the Indian Ocean.
Discussing later the submarine ’kill' with the C.O. of the Sharjah-based
squadron of Blenheims I learned that though he was delighted with the well
deserved reward for his men's dogged patrolling in severe conditions the exploit
owed something to luck. Extreme heat and humidity added to by wind-blown sand
and salt had made it hard to keep the Blenheims serviceable. That morning not
a single plane was fit for the normal early patrols when flying conditions for
machine and crew were best. The only aircraft finally coaxed into the air by its
ground crew in the burning heat of the afternoon was the late bird that caught
its submarine worm off guard.
I had my own luck with the friendly squadron at Sharjah, on the rare occasions
when I could reach them at the other side of the Gulf. Having to visit Bushire
urgently around Christmas, 1943 I was lucky to find a volunteer sergeant pilot
in his mess willing and even, it being the Christmas season, primed to take off
wearing the straw hat his skill and eccentric reputation allowed, as the Wing-