
THE MAN WHO TALKED TO GRIVAS
The man who talked to Grivas was Sgt Eric Bradley, but he never saw to whom he was talking, because he was flying over the Troodos Mountains in his RAF Pembroke aircraft. Four loudspeakers fixed in the doorway of the plane broadcast details of the authorities' safe-conduct offer to any member of EOKA within earshot.
DAVID CARTER interviewed Sgt Bradley in Canada, his home after retirement.
How did you get chosen for Sky Shout Ops tasks and how long were you involved?
ERIC: Part of the skill-set required of an Air Signaler was to be conversant with the aircraft circuitry. In addition I was taking an EMI correspondence course in civilian electronics. Also I had a little side business where I repaired radios for people on the base. When the assignment came up I was tapped on the shoulder to help install the hailing equipment in the Pembroke. Since the damn thing got hot enough to fry bacon they asked me to go along on the flights with spare parts and do repairs in the air if need be. The Tannoy techs did NOT want to fly with the equipment, especially when they learnt the nature of the flights... So I got volunteered!
I'm not familiar with the Pembroke, what sort of aircraft was it?
ERIC: The Pembroke, in its time, was like the Lear jet of today. The RAF used it to transport Senior Staff and VIP's. Inside it was carpeted in midnight blue and the cabin walls and eight seats were covered in sky blue leather. For such a small aircraft, there was a remarkable array of electronics, but the cabin was unpressurized which kept the comfortable operating altitude to less than 10,000 feet. There was space in the cockpit for two-crew, a pilot and a Navigator/Radio Op. There were six stretchers stored in the cabin roof and it was possible to lock and secure them to the cabin floor and walls, after removing all but two of the seats, leaving those for the medics.
We once did a couple of Casevacs, landing in Saudi Arabia on the desert floor and taking off successfully.
We also used a Pembroke as an airborne loud hailer to give amnesty to terrorists in the mountains if they surrendered. The two doors were removed and four 500-watt speakers poked out. These flights were somewhat hairy in that we needed to fly at low speeds to get our message across. On the level high plateaus we could accomplish this by circling. The mountain ravines were more of a challenge.
We would fly up the mountain slope just above stall speed. Sometimes the plots would misjudge and actually start to stall. The natural tendency of a stalling aircraft is for one wing to drop, so the pilot would try to turn the stall into a turn for as the aircraft turned away from the mountain, they actually gained relative ground height. This maneuver would leave one's stomach slightly higher than one's stomach if you were not expecting it and your voice would follow your stomach, climbing a couple of octaves higher.
I did not speak Greek, but had a cheat sheet that I read from after a Greek Cypriot had coached me. Most of our audience were mountain shepherds and I often wondered what they thought of my Greek and my funny voice with the squeaks brought on by the stall turns.
Flying down the mountain ravines was more like a toboggan ride and as the speed became too great the pilot would pull the nose UP. This would cause one's voice to drop a couple of octaves. The EOKA and shepherds must have been rolling around on the ground laughing. While flight problems continued to challenge us we overcame the audio by making an endless spool recording made by a proper Greek Cypriot.
Were helicopters used as well?
ERIC: Yes, they were used but not for hailing and not from our group, but I recall taking a trip in one. It was a Westland Whirlwind. The helicopters, the Taylorcraft Auster and Meteors were used for road recon ahead of convoys. We, members of Levant Comm Flt, had Meteors and some helicopters based across the airfield at Nicosia.
The Taylorcraft Austers were kept at Akrotiri. I did hear a rumor that they used an Auster for loudhailers after we gave up the equipment. I know that the Austers were used on anti- terrorist missions and photography.
My Flight Log shows we also used the old Avro Anson to do sea searches, trying to track caiques, which were bringing arms from Greece to the island. Also, the last flight listed is a Sycamore helicopter, which was used to 'sanitize' road routes.
The Sycamore patrolled ahead of the route to be taken by a military convoy. It was very effective, because there was nowhere to hide in the central plains. The mountains were a different story, but helicopters could be used to vector and EOKA knew this and left the route alone, if a helicopter was spotted. At least that is the way, it seemed to work.
Were you flying from Nicosia or Akrotiri?
ERIC: We were based at one of the Transit dispersals at the south of Nicosia airport. Of interest to you may be the fact that we shared the area with three Royal Navy Gannets. They were involved in anti-terrorist ops, covering the sea reaches.
How were your over-fly areas decided?
ERIC: As a part of the Sky Shout OPs we would be given map references on a topographical map as good sites to canvas. After canvassing them as likely sites for EOKA, we would photograph them to provide additional intelligence for the army, a picture being worth more than a thousand words presumably.
In addition we would traverse road routes on the way back to base, taking photographs of places where the road went through passes, ravines and valleys. Presumably these sites were treated to more attention later.
What was the lowest you flew?
ERIC: It varied. Over plateaus, we flew at about 200 - 300 feet. A little closer on slopes because the terrain fell away. I was a Signaler/Navigator with 205 Group Comm flight. We had Pembrokes, Meteors and in the early days Devons. The Meteors were used to patrol road routes ahead of convoys. The Pembrokes transported Senior Staff and VIP's. We also used them to patrol the coast around the island, spotting and locating calques bringing in arms.
On one occasion a vehicle drove out on a headland and signaled with its headlights. When the army were directed to the location they found it to be a Greek Cypriot police vehicle.
How many were on the team?
ERIC: Two - the pilot and me. I think that we had observers on some flights. They were army officers.
When were these missions started and ended?
ERIC: The 'Loud Hail' project was relatively short lived, according to my April 1957 Flight Log Book.
Was there any analysis of the results? Did any of the Greeks take note?
ERIC: Not to my knowledge. Greeks thought that it was just another thing the crazy British did: ignore it and it will go away.
Were there any moments when you thought 'this is crazy'?
ERIC: I thought the scheme was worth a try on Winston Churchill's premise that it's 'better to jaw-jaw than war-war'. My wife had several scares, but, as I reminded her, since she was brought up in her native Northern Ireland, she should have felt very much at home! She was not amused.
Danger can almost become a life spice and so it was with us. We found that we lived life fully. I think that we were more alive in those two years than we have ever been since.
Not that we were blind to the possibilities of death or dismemberment.
Were you in Cyprus the day Makarios was sent into exile from Nicosia airport?
ERIC: Yes, I was. As you know we were based just across from the civilian airport. There were all kinds of rumors, but little hard information. We usually went back and forth several times a day for administrative reasons, but that day we were restricted from going over and we heard that the army had taken temporary control.
We heard from one source that Makarios had got wind of the impending exile and was attempting to fly out. It was rumored Harding had commanded vehicles to park in front of the plane to prevent it moving. This was just one of the rumors, maybe the birth of another urban legend? We had no hard information, but knew that something of importance was taking place.
And what about the Troodos fire during Operation Lucky Alphonse in which more than 21 soldiers lost their lives?
ERIC: The way that we heard about it, the terrorists coaxed the troops into a box canyon, and then fired the forest behind them. The ground contours and subsequent updraft acted like a giant flue, forcing the fire into the canyon like a huge blowtorch. The steep canyon walls prevented the soldiers from escaping the fire. Olive wood burns like an oversized candlewick.
I personally did not fly on 17 June, as you can see from my logbook. It seems a long time between flights so I may have been on leave. I do not recall any talk of the Pembroke being used or readied for casevac but that is not to say that some of the Transport Command boys across the way might not have been used. If it is important I will pull the Squadron numbers for you.
What are the moments that stand out about those days?
ERIC: I remember climbing the mountains around Kyrenia Castle and seeing clouds sweep in. And then there are the landings at RAF Akrotiri. There's a large lake close by, home to thousands of flamingos. Sitting on the water, they appear as a black mat. On one runway approach, they were startled into flight by the aircraft's engines and, as they took off, I saw their scarlet feathers become visible in a great big blush, which was reflected in the lake.
I also flew with several VIPs - up close and personal. Among them were the Governor, Field Marshal Sir John Harding, and Randolph Churchill - a journalist in those days - are names, which come to mind.
On a lighter note, I remember watching my wife learning to drive our brand new VW Beetle. Maybe that's a memory to be classified under would 'scary moments'!
How much conversation was there about the EOKA attacks?
ERIC: Conversation about the EOKA attacks, yes, it replaced talking about the weather. Everybody knew somebody who knew somebody that this or that had happened to. Sometimes the stories were true, sometimes fiction, sometimes a bit of both.
Many reports of incidents came to us second hand. There always seemed a grain of truth in them, but tracking back to the source was never easy. I am sure many urban legends were born this way, but, sometimes, there was more than enough circumstantial evidence to verify them.
One case comes to mind: on our Flight we often had access to high-level gossip, when overhearing senior staff as they helped their army friends during visits.
One 'Black Ops' officer explained how his team had discovered a cache of EOKA fuses and explosives. Instead of removing the cache, they left it where it was - but replaced the seven-second fuses with three-second fuses.
Not long afterwards, we read that several EOKA terrorists had blown themselves up over a three-week period. Perhaps the most well known dead terrorist was the one in Limmasol, who etched his silhouette in blood on a public wall.
There was a general feeling amongst service personnel that most of The Times of Cyprus people were EOKA sympathizers. One of the newspaper's female reporters actually published the full addresses of service personnel's families who had been involved in 'incidents'. Some families had to be relocated because of her reports. Her ardor for EOKA cooled when she was hit on the head by a brick thrown during an anti-British student demonstration in November 1957
Because my wife worked at MEAF Headquarters as PA to Air Commodore Shelfoon, she was privy to Official Secrets, as was I. We had to agree, no pillow talk. Shelfoon was a Canadian who hailed from Prince Edward Island, Canada, and we often flew him as a passenger and on one occasion he flew the Pembroke himself. As his Signaler/Navigator, he was my skipper and so we could have discussed security matters, but never did.
Most of the 'official secrets', which seemed momentous at the time, now seem trivial after the passage of years.
For example, one of my tasks was the destruction of Foreign Office decoding machines. They had to be dismantled in the air - with a hammer - in front of witnesses and then hand feeding parts into the ocean while the aircraft flew on random courses over the sea. I sometimes think about our flight's litter at the bottom of the Med - brass levers, cogs and gears. What will future archaeologists think if they find these coral encrusted relics and what conclusions will they reach?
Another 'secret' involved taking officials on a tour of the old detention areas that were used to hold Jewish refugees before the creation of the State of Israel. I was told they were not to know too much in case they were captured by the Russians and made to talk.
Also considered a matter of secrecy was the testing of the landing capabilities of a disused airfield (Tymbou/Ercan) about 30 miles from Nicosia. It wasn't marked on any maps we had. We had to find it visually from information provided by a civilian passenger on board. I was told not enter these details in my Flight Log. Later, I understand, French Paras used this strip and were billeted there for their stay on the island before the Operation Musketeer in 1956.
I never discussed these things with Finola, my wife, as she never raised her 'secrets' with me.
During your tour of Cyprus, you had your wife with you. Where did you live?
ERIC: And, no, before you ask, the air force did not rent the house for us. We had to do that ourselves, we did receive a generous living-out allowance. We rented the house from a Greek Cypriot family. They had built it and lived in the rear half.
This was a common arrangement for many Greek Cypriots. They built these houses on the premise that they would be rented to Brit servicemen and income would pay off the mortgage. EOKA was not a happy concept for most Greek Cypriots.
We got along very well with our Greek Cypriot landlord, frequently spending time with his family in the Troodos range.
Our next-door neighbors were Turkish Cypriots (To the right on the photograph and both families co-existed without trouble.
Not far from us, however, EOKA terrorists threw a pipe bomb at a passing army convoy. The bomb rolled off a truck's canvas top and fell among some Greek children playing on the opposite side of the road. Some kids were killed. The injured children were flown to London for treatment, according to the press.
But truthfully, was anybody really interested in the conflict as such or were they just going through the motions, wishing for their Cyprus tour to come to an end?
ERIC: Yes, everybody WAS interested in the conflict, for two main reasons. First, it was personal and in your face every waking moment. Women and children were being killed and injured so there was a sense of 'No holds barred'.
The second reason is somewhat ephemeral in today's environment. It must be understood that this was at the height of the Cold War. Geo-politically Cyprus was considered to be important to the west. George Grivas, although a Cypriot, was a Greek Army officer and Greece was leaning towards Communism at that time. So George's motives were suspected as much as his methods were despised.
There were those who had a sense of detachment about the conflict. There was a large percentage of National Servicemen serving on the island. To begin with, they were not in the service from choice and most counted the days until their release. For most regular service people there was a commitment, it was a job that they had signed up for. Many had served in other parts of the world and more clearly understood the global picture.
The leaflet war
AFTER Operation Sky Shout came to an end, the British psychological warfare campaign against EOKA continued apace in other ways, one of which was dropping hundreds of leaflets from the air on particular areas where the terrorists were believed to be.
Tom Driver was an Army pilot who helped scatter them across Cyprus. He says 120,000 leaflets were printed, out of which 103,000 were airdropped while the remainder were distributed by hand.
'The numbers dropped on a particular locality or area weren't fixed,' he says. 'If there had been a spot of trouble in a particular area, then the numbers were increased. Similarly, such important issues, like "surrender terms", had a much larger circulation and larger quantities. A typical example was Famagusta, which normally received only 2,500, but had 8,000 of the "surrender" issue. Famagusta was an easy run, because the ground there is reasonably level and we let the wind spread them.
Dropping leaflets for the 18 villages of the Troodos was much more difficult. The task at times was 'downright dangerous' where the villages either cling to the sides of the steep mountains or lie in valleys between the peaks, rising to heights between 5,000 to 6,000 feet.
'It was almost impossible to make the leaflets go where you wanted them, because quite often the air was rising at such a rate that the leaflets went up instead of down,' Tom Driver remembers. 'When that occurred we had to wait and make test drops at odd times until conditions were suitable.'
Boffins' solution
FLYING skillfully, the aircrews managed to continue dropping their loads, often from an altitude of less than 30 feet. 'In some cases, we dumped a lot from so low down that they landed on a cafe doorstep,' Driver says. 'Apart from the airdrop proper, we also made free drops of bundles of leaflets to be given out by hand. The leaflets were well wrapped in parcels of 5,000 or so. We just flew low and slow over the marker and pushed them out.'
Then the scientists at Boscombe Down back in the UK devised a contraption, which they claimed, would add to accuracy and cut down on wastage.
The device consisted of a cardboard folder in which 50 leaflets had to be carefully packed and tied with a nylon cord. Next the flyers were told to place a small fuse under the space where the lines crossed. The fuse was attached to another length of string, which had to be tied to the aircraft.
Carrying these folders, the pilots were expected to fly a certain distance upwind of the targeted village and release them at six-second intervals. As the folders fell, the line connected to the plane was supposed to pull a pin, which, in turn ignited the fuse. The scientists claimed that if the pilot were flying according to plan, the fuse would go bang and, hey presto, 200 feet above the ground, out would pop the leaflets from the folder.
The scientists' scheme was a complete failure. Tom Driver explains: 'On one test run, a cord was accidentally pulled inside the aircraft and the whole lot went pop in the cabin. I think the pilot had enough to cope without worrying about a fire in the back and hundreds of leaflets blowing round and round his controls.'
Aircrews were against the scheme from the start. The folders took time to pack properly, added extra weight to the plane and far too often the fuses failed to ignite.
'In addition, if a village were stuck on the side of a 5,000-foot mountain, it wasn't always possible to get upwind and at the height advised. Worst of all, the device was a fire hazard.
Just as Operation Sky Shout was closed down, the scientists' device was put away, never to be seen again.
(EDITOR'S NOTE: Charles Foley, the editor of The Times of Cyprus reported a pamphlet drop that took place in August 1957: 'An RAF Auster droned over Nicosia circling round and showering copies of the printed 'surrender' instructions on amazed heads below. The call was bellowed through an amplified loudspeaker in pidgin Greek as the plane flew low over the rooftops. People in the streets flung their arms up and cried: "We surrender - now go away." In Detention Camp K a prisoner pinned a "surrender" notice to his chest and walked into the Commandant's office to ask for his liberty and a free air ticket to Athens' (promised by the Governor.)
EOKA, meanwhile, continued to spread its 'message' by organizing youth teams to hand-distribute its propaganda leaflets and to paint slogans on walls in the main towns of Cyprus.
The leaflets generally took two forms; either they threatened the populace with dire consequences if it opposed the terrorists or made exaggerated claims of battle successes against the British. Colonel Grivas seemed more persuasive in his efforts than the authorities.
When Field Marshal Sir John Harding, the Governor, appealed in a radio broadcast for the terrorists to surrender and guaranteed them safe conduct out of the Island until there was a peace agreement, Grivas responded with a rare sense of humor. He arranged for a donkey to be paraded through Nicosia, the capital, with an 'I SURRENDER' placard attached to the animal's rear.
 I SURRENDER DONKEYcopy.jpg)
But an unknown soldier of the Welsh Regiment, stationed in the Troodos, reciprocated in his style of wit. Alongside EOKA's usual slogans splashed across white culverts, one stood out from the rest. It simply declared: HOME RULE FOR WALES.
Acknowledgements: Lee Richards and Falling Leaf, No 22, June 1963, the journal of The PsyWar Society.
© David Carter 2008

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