LOOK - NO BRAKES!

(‘Astra Tech’ was a periodical published by the Technical/Engineering Branch in 1985, to emulate ‘Air Clues’ flight safety magazine of the Royal Air Force. As a matter of interest, I was present at the conference when it was planned, and when suggestions for a name was called,  suggestion by Squadron Leader GY de Silva (Later Air Vice Marshal) was 'Air Clueless'. Unfortunately,  it died a natural death after two issues, predictably so as in the case of so many short lived projects commenced with good intentions, as engineering staff had to work on it in addition to their normal duties. This article is  what I wrote for the first Issue of ‘Astra Tech’ anonymously as a CONDOR ( Confidential Direct Occurrence Report). I was then a Squadron Leader, serving as the Chief Ground Instructor at Air Force Academy, China Bay. Story refers to the days of my first appointment as an Engineer Officer in  the Flying Training Wing, China Bay,  as a Pilot Officer/Flying Officer during the period 1976-79)

CONDOR

( Confidential Direct Occurrence Report)

Quite a few years ago I was appointed a junior Engineering Officer at a flying unit. This was my first appointment after training, and I proceeded to learn whatever possible skills that I could, without however, I must confess, getting any grease on my hands.

One of the jobs I so learnt was ground running of aircraft, which in. those practically non-flying days,  done once a week or so, to keep them in flying condition. Senior Aero Engines tradesmen, having been bored stiff with weekly ground running ritual considered me an asset, since I, in my enthusiasm, used to take a load off their shoulders.

A Dove aircraft was to be ‘ground-run’ one day, and I, now a veteran of all of two years or so experience, got inside having taken the customary walk around with a cursory glance for any anomalies. Everything was O.K, except for the fact that I did not have a ground running Check List. This I considered to be only a minor inconvenience, having done the job enough times to remember all the checks.

I asked. for the ground power to be switched on, primed the engines, and  having got the signal for start up, got the port engine going.  Immediately as it started up, I became aware of an unusual movement of the aircraft, which felt as if it was moving over uneven, bumpy ground. Curious phenomenon that was, and I looked around in bewilderment, but noticed nothing wrong. Even the tradesman standing in front, ready to give the clearance signal for starting of the other engine did not seem to have noticed anything unusual. Otherwise, he would certainly have made me aware.

Bumpiness persisted, but by now, I had almost assumed this to be something natural, but not encountered by me so far. So, I went about with starting the starboard engine. For those who had not started up a Dove, I must say that this is little trickier than it sounds – particularly after it had been lying in the hanger for a week – but I was by then fairly good at it and usually got both engines going without too much of a fuss.

Next came the moving of the aircraft onto the metal chocks prior to run-up, and I released the brakes – and nearly passed out. I did not have the brakes on! In a flash, the reason for this unusual movement I notices earlier became very clear indeed. I still dread to think of the consequences if I had normal wooden chocks, where aircraft is just run-up as it is. There was, if I remember correctly, a couple of other aircraft right in front, and had I opened the throttles,  the Dove would have jumped chocks and slammed into them. Whirling propellers would have chopped whatever in front into bits, and I would have ended up in………., well, the mind boggles.

Anyway, it took me a few moments to get over the shock of  realization that I had made a major blunder, and worse still, that I was not quite as competent as I thought to be. I sheepishly looked around, and to my relief, no one had seen the error. Even the tradesman who had assisted in the start up had moved away, leaving me to my own devices.

Regaining my composure, I moved the aircraft onto the chocks and carried on with the run-up. Needless to say that it was the last day that I  ever got into a Dove without a Checklist.

You’d by now have guessed the moral of the story. Even the most experienced can, and do, make mistakes by trying to rely on the memory, which is, at best, unreliable. As a result, some seemingly simple omissions can lead to embarrassing, and sometimes disastrous, consequences. So there is no other way than ‘going by the book’.

(This is not the end of the tale. Although I had said that this was the last time I got into a Dove without a checklist, I did the same thing with a Cessna 150, which I started up without applying brakes. That time, thanks to my Dove experience, I immediately diagnosed the problem and put the brakes on, before anything serious happened or anyone noticed.  Speaks volumes for my luck, to have done the same mistake twice and have got away with it!)

Memories of Black July '83 - Through the Eyes of a Serviceman

The date was 20th July 1983. I was fast asleep in my room in the Air Force Officers' Mess, Colombo, after a late return, having had a meeting with my close friend Flight Lieutrenant (who later retired ad a Squadron Leader) Cyril Siriwardene at Air Force Ekala. I was then a Flight Lieutenant in the Technical/Engineering Branch, holding a staff appointment at the Headquarters. The Officers’ Mess was located at that time in what is now the car park of the Hotel Renaissance. Woken up by a phone call from the Operations Room (Ops Room) of the Air Force Headquarters in the early hours on the 21st, I was asked to draw a weapon and proceed to the Operations Room by the Operations Commander that day, Squadron Leader Douglas Perera (who retired later as the Director Civil Engineering with the rank of Air Commodore). Pilot Officer Vasantha Rajapaksha ( later retired as Wing Commander) had already been sent to Borella area, who was to be the first ever Air Force officer to have gone out for riot control in 1983 riots, I was to be the second- a dubious distinction. I went to the Armoury, and drew a Sterling sub-machine gun and 60 rounds of ammunition, and went to the Ops Room. I was then told that there was rioting in Borella area and to proceed there with some airmen in a rickety 3 tonner truck. I was also given a radio communications set.

On the way to Borella, at Punchi Borella and opposite 'The Messenger' building I could see some shops smashed, with their broken glass-showcases lying by the side of the road. Some Tamil occupants of a car saw our truck, stopped and asked for my assistance to proceed forward. I told them that we will escort them to Borella Police Station and to start and proceed immediately before the truck. As we started to move a bystander threw a stone at the car, and I jumped out and pointed my weapon at the culprit and shouted some choicy words, ending any further trouble. As we got closer to Borella on Maradana-Borella road the car accelerated away from us and we lost track of it.

Getting closer to Borella at around 2 am, we saw the junction to be full of people, and the Dasa Building on fire with a thick cloud of smoke billowing from it. I could also see a few policemen with tear-gas guns near the police station ( present bus-stand was not there at that time, only a smaller one) and some Army Armoured Personnel Carriers cruising slowly along the road. We stopped close to the Police Station and I looked around in bewilderment. With that sea of heads what were we to do? Open fire? That option never even occurred to us that time, especially as rioting was a direct consequence of killing of 13 Army personnel by the Tamil terrorists. From time to time, some policemen would come out of the Police Station, fire a few tear gas shells at the crowd, and get back inside. That's the sum total of resistance offered to the rioters by the law enforcers (including ourselves) on the very first hours of rioting, where it all began.

I was utterly lost- I had been sent, with a handful of airmen, to stop rioting by many hundred people. As an Engineer Officer, doing a staff (desk) job at the time, I had no experience what-so-ever in the task, and no one to get any on-the-spot instructions from. In desperation, I went into the Police Station compound and came across a senior police officer whose rank I could not recognise, but obviously a high ranking person. I told him “Sir, we must do something, we cannot just look at this situation and wait”. His reply was ”You know, up to now not a single life was lost, only property damage. So the situation here is under control. Can you do some patrolling in the outskirts of Borella area to keep situation there under control?” I instinctively knew that he was as helpless as I was, and was giving an excuse for his inability to act, but at least I had some instructions, so I got into the truck and did a tour around the Borella area. The devastation was not extensive, but a few shops, no doubt owned by Tamils, were on fire, with some people watching nearby. Having completed the round, we came back to the Borella Police Station, and met the Senior Police whom I spoke to earlier, and reported what I saw. He said that IGP is in the police station, and took me into the O i/c's office. I went in and saluted the IGP and described what I had seen. Evidently, he had no information on the situation in the areas I had covered up to that time. He thanked me, and I came out, called Air Force on my radio and reported the situation. I was then told to return, and by the time we reached Air Force Headquarters it was around 4 am.

I rested some time at the Ops Room, and at around 5 am was asked to proceed to Maradana, where rioting and looting of shops was beginning. I was to be under Flight Lieutrnant Ananda ( who was later to retire as an Air Commodore, having commanded the Katunayake Base at the time of infamous LTTE attack), and if I remember right, Pilot Officer Vinnie Gunawardhana ( who died a few years later, while in service) was also with us. One the way to Maradana, I could hear Flight Lieutenant Ananda asking for permission to open fire to control rioting from the Operations Room. The Operations Commander, Squadron Leader Douglas Perera, not having aver had an opportunity to respond to such a request in his whole life, was clearly taken aback, and could not give a clear answer at first, but after several promptings by Flight Lieutenant Ananda, he finally replied, “ You can shoot them below the knee”, which brought us some smiles in spite of the tension we were in at the time.

We proceeded to down D R Wijewardena Mawatha, and turned towards Borella near the Maradana Railway Station (this was well before the present traffic arrangement and the colour lights). As we approached the turn off to Darley Road, we could see the looters at work and that arsonists had been at it already, with several buildings on fire. We got off our vehicles, and on orders from Flight Lieutenant Ananda got the Airmen to form a line, and forced the crowds to disperse by moving forward and ‘pushing’ them out. After clearing the area, we called for Fire Service through our Operations Room, which arrived and in a large fire vehicle and proceeded to put the fires out in the burning buildings. They also went into one multi-storey building which was on fire where the by-standers said that some people were hiding to rescue hem, and did a very efficient job in general.

At this time, I saw some commotion some of the shops, which I remember to be near Gamini Furnitures. Getting close, I was some looters at work, taking items from a shop that had been broken open. I rushed in and using my weapon as a club tried to hit them, but they ran away. One of them fell on broken glass and had got his rear end injured. He got up and ran away too. One of them came back and asked me to take the injured man to hospital, but another dragged him away, as he noticed my foul mood.

I also saw looting of a textile shop, and looters came to me asked me permission to take things away. With the help of some airmen I chased them away.

By this time the dawn was approaching, and we proceeded to chase away the bystanders who were looking on. Firemen could not get the Fire Vehicle started, and I got some bystanders to give them a push-start.

By this time, we are told by someone (whom I cannot now remember) that there was some looting near Elphinstone Cinema. We moved there, and found looters at work on the shops near the Cinema, and chased them away again. As we moved away, we saw a shop being set on fire, but culprits ran away before we got close, and the owners of the nearby shops were trying to prevent the fire from spreading to theirs as well.

We thought we had the situation more or less under control by about 7 am, and the morning rush was bringing in the workers to the city. Maradana was filling up with people, most of them being spectators of the night’s incidents, who never miss a chance of enjoying an exciting sight at other’s expense. Another wave of looting started down Panchikawatta Road, and tried as we might we could not control the mass rioting that took place because there simply were too many people. I place Leading Aircraftsman Gunatillake (a Supplier, who later retired I think as a Warrant Officer, and this is one name I still remember) at the foot of the overhead crossing at the start of the Panchikawatta Road on the Elphinstone Theatre side, and asked him to divert all pedestrians to the other side of the road, hoping to keep at least that side of the road free of people, so that we have better control. I was running up and down the Panchikawatta Road, trying to sort out troubles, which were many, but could not make much headway.

We were clearly losing control, and needed the reinforcements, and I met Flight Lieutenant Ananda who was on the Manadana Road, and told him so. He asked me call the Ops Room, which I did until blue in the face to no avail –battery of my Radio set was going down. Even Flt Lt Ananda’s radio was not working. I asked him if I could go back to Air Force Headquarters and bring in reinforcements, but he replied “No, I need you here”. Pilot Officer Gunawardena, who was nowhere to be seen when we were desperately looking for reinforcements made an appearance, and said that he was at the Maradana Police Station. I was really angry and cannot remember exactly what I told him at that time, but it was no doubt very harsh.

We were standing somewhat helplessly near Maradana Railway Station, and word arrived from the Headquarters that the area was to be handed over to the Army. At long last, to our immense relief, an Army truck with troops commanded by a Lieutenant appeared, and I spoke to him and said that we will be withdrawing, and asked him to take over. Last I saw was that his troops were forcing the looters to flee – clearly doing a better job than ourselves. Finally, we made our way back to Air Force Headquarters, in a sad mood.

In hindsight, the lessons are as clear as they are bitter. We should have taken decisive action on the very first day, by shooting the looters and arsonists, thus stopping the riot in its tracks. May be there would have been a few deaths, but nothing compared to thousands who perished in the riots, not to mention the tens of thousands who died as a result of escalation of violence in the North. I still regret our indecisiveness that day, but find some consolation in the fact that we were not alone - the whole country was equally so, exemplified by the fact that the country’s President took well over a week to make a TV appearance to give the nation his message. Added to that, Armed Forces simply did not at that time have the ‘shooting culture’ which was to become the norm later. The net result was that the country paid a terrible price for saving lives of a handful of rioters. In short, the real lesson is that when Armed Forces are supposed to shoot, they MUST shoot, if not the whole country suffers as a consequence of this false notion of kindness.