I approached the aeroplane with a mixture of fear and excitement. The excitement won!

This was not only my first flight but also my first trip beyond Europe; my entry into the "World"!

To some degree it was necessary to appear 'blase'. Let's face it, I had been a National Serviceman for a year and a half and had spent a year of that in Germany. I was obviously a man of the world.

But this was a new adventure. We were going to Africa; to Kenya and the heart of man's birthplace. And to top it all - it was classed as a Combat Zone!

This was Blackbush Airport (sic), May 1955, and our Regiment was being sent to Kenya to combat the Mau Mau threat to the white settlers. We were 75% National Servicemen and totally new to battle situations (which, as it proved, did not exist).

We were the advance party, being sent out by air, a month ahead of the Battalion, to effect the hand-over of our base camp on the PoloGround at Nairobi from the Inniskilling Fusiliers. This was to be, probably, the most interesting flight of my life.

We boarded the 'plane, a Viking aircraft of Britavia Airlines (what the RAF laughingly called 'a loose collection of rivets flying in close formation'). We were wearing our hairy battledress and issue boots but once on the 'plane we were ordered to remove our boots and put on plimsolls for the duration of the flight. Little did we know that it would last for 24 hours.

We took off at about 1030 hours local time and flew over France and the Mediterranean to Italy where we landed at Naples, halfway up a mountain, on an old wartime airstrip of PSP (perforated steel plate). We were allowed to deplane and were given a meal in the airport canteen. Then, back on board the 'plane and off on the next leg.

This proved to be a scenic trip down Italy and across the Med to an old RAF base at El Adem. It was dark when we arrived so there was no view of the area, but we again deplaned, were fed and watered, and given a chance to wash and shave.

The next leg was a night run over the Sahara Desert, so we slept until the cabin staff advised us we were approaching Khartoum. At this time it was still dark and our view was limited to the city and airport lights, but as soon as we touched down, the sun rose over the end of the runway - and so did the temperature!

We deplaned once again, this time for breakfast, which, in a temperature close to 100 degrees C, was bacon and scrambled eggs with toast and tea. And all the time we were still wearing our hairy battledress.

Finally we took off on the last stage of our journey for Nairobi, flying over desert, scrub land and light jungle. The strange shape of the hills, which rose out of the ground like mole-hills, was quite fascinating and we were enthralled with the country we could see. At last we landed at Nairobi Airport (Eastleigh), and were met by transport to take us to the camp at Muthaiga. We had arrived in Africa!