Cross-Dressing Christmas Maltese on the Red Sea

The next installment of my grand-uncle Dick's Memoirs.

December 1940

 

An interesting lorry trip was undertaken to Suakin on the Red Sea. Suakin was called 'The Dead City.' It was understood that Suakin, in the 19^th Century, was the main port on the Red Sea for the Sudan, but extensive coral growths and sand banks made it impossible for the larger shipping to enter the small harbour. As a result the whole population vacated the city and moved north, and Port Sudan was then developed and became the major port. Suakin was about 50 miles south of Port Sudan.

Suakin now stands as it did, still intact, almost as if everyone had suddenly been killed by a plague. Just a few caretakers seemed to be around, looking after all the white buildings, still in excellent order.

The journey through the Red Sea Hills, about 3 hours, was undertaken in the flight wagon, a contracted Sudanese lorry with its owner called 'Pop.' We used it as the flight runabout.

Later the Squadron moved to RAF Gordon's Tree where we spent Christmas 1940.

Three weeks before Christmas, following a Saturday morning parade, we were- before being dismissed- held back by the Station Warrant Officer.

Gathered into the close circle, he remarked, “It's Christmas in three weeks time. Anybody like to get up a Christmas concert?” A pause. “No volunteers. Right, you lot, anybody play an instrument?”

About a dozen pointed to me. “He does the violin.”

“Right lad, get a concert party up for Christmas. Parade dismiss.”

I stood there transfixed, but within a few minutes chaps were all round.

“I'll help you, mate.”

And so we put together a good show. The last night, the CO came with the officers and sat in the front row. Our best turn was a RAF Maltese airman who dressed up like Carmen Miranda – super costume- and great falsetto voice who, during the act, finished up sitting on the CO's lap stroking his cheek.

After the show he said to me, “Where did you get the girl from, the Caberet Khartoum? She was super!”

I replied, “No, he's one of your photographers on the Squadron and comes from Malta.”

He used to shave his legs and arms and his make-up was perfect. He had photographs showing him and his friend dancing with the Navy chaps in Malta.