In the mid-sixties of the last century I started my professional career in Northern Nigeria.

Actually it was an alternative for National Service and with the blessings from the Dutch Ministery of Defence.

My experiences as a child during the war on the Continent kept me well-balanced during the Biafra war episode which started soon after our arrival but that’s another story.

I had been posted in the town of Maiduguri, the Provincial Capital of the Bornu Province. The British Colonial Government had been far-sighted in West Africa and had left intact the existing “Native Authorities” after their arrival which kept the country, composed of many rival tribes, steady during the process of pacification. Subsequently progress went on well, up to and beyond Independency, untill the night when the military forces took over abruptly.

I do remember that I was invited once to visit the “palace” – largely made of mud – of the Head of the Native Authority which was an Emir but in view of tribal history and customs was called “Shehu”. He was then 50 years on seat.

We, mostly ex-pats, had been gathered in a room in semi-darkness and waiting for the Shehu to see us and accept our sincere congratulations including a “couple of laffia’s”.

On the wall I discovered a black-and-white picture, neatly framed and not yet attacked by white ants, disclosing an early Spitfire, certainly not a Mk IX, with a description on the nacelle in white paint. I can’t remember whether “BORNU” or “MAIDUGURI” had been an indication of the origin of the sponsor.

I have to confess that at such an ocassion your outfit doesn’t include a camera, alas.

Can any of the readers confirm my observation or is able to disclose service details from this Spitfire or any other Spitfire donated from West Africa and Nigeria in particular.

Regards, Joop Thuring”

This is from Hank Adlam. I have only just been shown a copy of your sensitive review of my book “On and Off the Flight Deck.”

I am grateful, not only for a kind review, but for your grasping the essential point of my book that the great majority of us, so called fighter pilots,  were just ordinary blokes thrust by war into a very dangerous world.

Indeed, I originally entitled the book “Ordinary Naval Airman,”but the publishers wisely, I think now, made me change the title. But they tried in their publicity to portray me as a dashing sort of Errol Flynn character, and I would have none of it.

Incidentally, you should know (and you probably do) that fighter pilots dreaded ground straffing more than any other form of combat. This was true of those in WW1 as well as WW2. In the Pacific, our twice daily ground attacks on the Japanese-held airfields of the Sakashima Islands were horrific in casualty numbers and utterly dreaded. The Japs were waiting with guns pointing in our only direction of attack with fingers on triggers … just waiting for us.

Air combat with bombers etc was a piece of cake comparatively !

Also, as you would read from my first book, I hated the Seafire (Spitfire). Useless thing on a Carrier and killed so many young pilots. Useless thing except when flown from an airfield, then lovely just to fly. I cherish a deep loathing for the thing!

Never mind, all over now.

Hank

PS. My sequel auto-biography, “Life is a Yo-Yo,” has just been launched by Arrowsmith Publishers. There is some aviation in it but not a lot. It reflects life in the thirties and the difficult post-war fifties. People say it is a damn good read.”