Memories

Thinking of all of you today when we mark another year passing. They are indeed not forgotten. Thanks to all of you who have added recollections and memories that keep their memory alive.

I was at a British boarding school, Badminton in Bristol. I was staying at my grandmother's just before returning to school and then on the BBC, came news of a plane crash. The face of one of my school friends was there on the television and I remember how shocked I was to see Debbie featured, as one of the survivors. Her father, like mine was a diplomat and their family were based in Addis Ababa. I was also 12 years old and frequently flew back and forwards to my parents for the school holidays.

I didn't know any more of what happened and the adults around me didn't seem to understand why I wanted to know or how important this was to me. I didn't know where Debbie was or how badly injured she was. I knew lots of people had died and that it was a terrible, terrible…

I am a retired Senior Lecturer in Nursing Studies, living near Newcastle upon Tyne.

I was fortunate to hear a trail during the Today programme for the Life Changing programme made by Harriet Ware Austin. It took me back to a period when I played a small part in the aftermath of the air crash, but it had been unresolved for me....

In early April 1972, I returned to Addis Ababa to take up my post as a locally recruited Nurse in Charge of Operating Theatres and Surgical Clinics with The All Africa Leprosy Rehabilitation Centre (ALERT). Having completed a two years placement at the hospital, as a volunteer nurse with Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO).

The ALERT hospital is located on the south western fringe of Addis Ababa.

On the 18th April, 1972 during my lunch break, I became aware of a large pall of black smoke rising into the…

Please let me introduce myself, my name is Robert Whittingham and I was the Steward on the Royal Air Force VC10 that flew the survivors, of this terrible crash, to RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus. I now presently reside in Swindon, Wiltshire. Here is my account:

It was the morning of 20 April 1972. After an uneventful night flight from Akrotiri, the last leg of an eleven-day Tengah shuttle trip, I was in the squadron crew room, checking my mail. I was approached by a member of 10 Squadron Ops. He informed me that a VC10 belonging to East African Airways had crashed attempting to take off in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The squadron was sending an aeromed flight to pick up survivors and bring them back to the UK. Even though I had been flying all night, and now on my three-day pass, he asked me if I would volunteer t…