Bobby Gibbes in the Western Desert

Life in the Western Desert. Some time ago I was fortunate enough to purchase from the great man himself, Bobby Gibbes’ autobiography ‘You Live But Once’. It is a bit of a holy grail for collectors of Australian aviation memoir so I was very pleased that Bobby still had one or two left. I loved it. Lots of anecdote and lots of operational details, much taken from his diaries of the time.

 Bobby was a bit of a larrikin (remember, he is the one who famously built the Cricri aircraft in his upstairs room) and he used to regale visitors in aeroplane seats in his ‘cockpit’. I tell you, it was a great privilege to sit in first class and laugh myself silly as he shared some of his experiences. Bobby had a fine sense of humour and one of my favourite stories comes from his memoir: Be warned. It contains delicate subject matter, and those of more sensitive sensibilities might like to skip reading it. Bobby sailed to the Middle East on the Queen Elizabeth. Soon after boarding, ‘we had been lectured on the dangers of getting to know Egyptian women too well. I had even heard that toilet seats could be infectious and I was naïve enough to believe this’. Anyway, sometime later:

 

Without confessing a ruddy thing, I developed an ache in those accoutrements peculiar to the male species. I suppose that I was terribly silly, but when this ache occurred at the commencement of the Syrian offensive, and I didn’t want to miss out with any of it, I decided that an approach to the medical officer might see me grounded. There was also some feeling of shame at such a disaster befalling me.  She was such a pretty little thing too. If I was killed, no one would know. Treatment would have to wait until later.

 

I took to the bush rather than use the normal toilets as I didn’t want to provide the catalyst for such a horrible thing to be passed on to my fellow pilots. While flying, the tightness of the parachute harness around the groin area caused me a great deal of pain, but I just had to put up with this for the time being.

 

Immediately peace was declared, I went to see John [Laver, 3 Squadron MO] and explained my fears. After careful examination of the offending apparatus, he started to laugh. He told me that I had no real problem and I was terribly relieved. He supplied me with a truss and instructed me to wear it for diminishing periods each day. I had worn Jockey underpants for some years, but they had all worn out and I had not been able to buy similar underpants in Palestine. The muscles had not been used for support and had grown weak. They had to be re-trained to perform their former duty.

 

 

Bobby died in April 2007 and it was a great loss to Australian aviation and storytelling. Continuing blue skies, Bobby.