Christchurch and District Model Flying Club

The Diary of a Flier, by B Leonard Wise

The Story so far: B Leonard Wise has wanted to fly a Spitfire but has become sidetracked into an escapade where he was one of a chain of pilots who dropped cows’ brains onto a podium of European dignitaries. (if you are easily offended by slapstick knockabout comedy, you should stop reading here - I did - Ed)

My station was up the Eiffel Tower and everyone on that level has been arrested. Whilst we waited to be taken down in the lifts the policemen spotted the German trying to get all his equipment back into his case. He kept holding the transmitter which Leonard has slipped in amongst his possessions. He was looking at it when the Policemen saw it there were cries of “Voici” and “Viola” and he was pounced upon, handcuffed his possessions put in a large plastic bag. Then the lifts were open and we all went down. We were marched out towards a sort of van/bus .As we went along I saw the pretty Girl who had given me the Anorak and the transmitter. I signalled that the pockets were empty and I gave her a wink. She smiled and retreated into the crowd.

Eventually we were taken to a Police Station. So far as I could see most of the Women and Children were released after having their names and addresses taken. The German was lead away. The men were separated and I did not see any of them again. I was taken into a room to be interrogated. Remember you are English I said to myself: do not be intimidated. I had been told to cut off the labels from my clothes and take no identification with me. I had some francs that was all. When they started to ask me questions in French, I replied in a mixture of Polish, German and gibberish.

Ican do a good imitation of Hitler making a speech and so I did then. This caused some consternation. Now I speak a good bit of French so I could understand what they were saying. They considered that I must be speaking Latvian so they got in a Latvian speaker after about 20 minutes and I replied in the same way. They then tried to look at the labels on my clothes but they were not there. After a while the larger of the two French Policemen started again this time in German. I started to speak again and would not stop this annoyed them all considerably and they shouted Silence Silence. So I repeated those words and did up not speak again. Whenever they addressed words to me I smiled and said Silence then kept quiet. They were at a loss so they decided to photograph me for their records before deciding what to do. They took me into another room stood me before a white board and a photographer who had been recording the others got ready to take a shot on file. They gave me a board to hold. Now I have an objection to being included in

French Criminal Records So I held the board in front of my face. Eventually the board was fixed in front of me and the session began again. I waited until he was ready and then started to wag my head about and pull funny faces. This caused an uproar. Two of the Policemen tried to hold my head one putting his finger in my mouth accidentally. When he did that I bit him, another blow for England I thought. This made him hop around for some time, crying Mon Dieu several times. ..Then another one took over. They held my ears and my hair to keep me straight. Then they decided that they would need a close up of me which did not show my ears and hair. The photographer took another Camera and came right up close to me. I am not particularly proud of this next bit, I am sure my mother would not have approved, but she was not in a French Police Station having her ears and hair held. I filled my mouth with as much saliva as I could and when he was ready to take the photo I manufactured a large sneeze. This had a most satisfactory if unexpected result. The Photographer rammed the Camera against his nose which made it bleed he staggered backwards and bumped into the Policeman who was rubbing his finger. They waltzed around for a while until they collided with the tripod of the large camera and they all went down in a rather undignified heap. There were cries of Mon Dieu and other less pleasant words. I was released as they went to the aid of their comrades.

To cut a fairly long story short they decided to release me and then follow me to see who my friends were. They of course did not know that I knew I was to be followed. Suddenly they showed me the door and I was outside. I sauntered off then coming to an alley I turned into it and sprinted for 30 yards, turning around to make my way out. Around the comer came two slightly overweight, out of breath Frenchmen who on seeing me pretended to be deep in conversation as I walked past. I now knew who my followers were. I let them get close to me then stopped a Taxi

and said The Hilton Hotel please. I noticed that they got into a Car and followed. In the Hilton there are three lifts. I waited until two were at the top, and then jumped in the other one pressed 5 and up I went. I knew 5 floors were too much for them to climb and they would have to wait for the other lifts. At the fifth floor I left a shoe in the doorway to stop the doors shutting and so hold the lift for me. I nipped along the corridor and on one of the door knobs I hung the Anorak. I then came back to the lift and went down again.

1 expected that there would be a backup following team and so there was. I sat down with my face behind a newspaper and waited. Soon down the lift came with a very angry American in handcuffs with a protesting young Lady also handcuffed. The backup team appeared in the doorway and they were lead away to awaiting Car. I slipped out of the other entrance took a Taxi and returned to our Hotel.

To be concluded.

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