So, in July of 2012, I sounded the depths of Mark Zuckerberg's creation for Murray Sinton. I'll admit I took a ridiculously remote shot in the dark, I told this "Murray Sinton" as much, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on to something.
Then, about a month later, in the dead of night, my blackberry clanged enthusiastically. It rose me from my slumber and as my myopic eyes swam in the murk to find my glowing watch face, I considered rolling over to pluck my phone from the carpeted bedroom floor.
3:24 in the morning. I'm getting up in less than 90 minutes. Forget it.
Six minutes later - another ping shattered the silence.
I felt for my glasses, pushed them on and groped for the phone lying face-down on the carpet and ringed in white light.
When I saw the name staring back at me, my body temperature jumped a few degrees.
It turns out that my absurdly long shot, lobbed through social media clear around the world, was right on target.
Murray Sinton is alive and well, and after a long aviation career, is enjoying his retirement in Perth, Australia.
Over the last few weeks, we've been swapping emails back and forth. I thought I would share one with you.
I must say I am honoured to be held in such high esteem by your late father (sorry to hear of his passing). It was something I always believed in trying to impart throughout my instructing over 30 odd years.
I read the blog from start to finish & found the history of all the air crafts I used to instruct on back when your father was learning very interesting. Sadly most of them, like your father, are no longer with us but live on in our memories.
From what I can remember your dad was a very keen & willing student who completed all his tasks diligently & enthusiastically & had that natural ability of coordination & judgement needed to fly.
If I remember correctly he was one of my first batch of pupils assigned to me by the flying school as a brand new assistant instructor. However, we got on very well throughout his quest to get his PPL which he passed on the first attempt.
Unfortunately, I do not have any photos but of course the early days of my flying career were at Wilken Flying School. The weather in Kenya being very kind to private flying as there were very few days that it kept one grounded.
Of course all of this was over 40 years ago now & I lost count of the number of students I taught since those first ones.
I, in fact, left the flying school after two years with them to further my career & spent a few years flying for a charter company before leaving Kenya for South Africa where I opted for the Corporate environment & ended up my flying days flying the Canadair Challenger series of air crafts.
This took me all over the globe & of course regular visits to Montreal for refresher simulator courses.
I am now happily retired in Perth Australia with all of my family close by.
I have regular contact with a number of those I taught way back then as most of them went on to become airline skippers & so migrated to all corners of the world.
As for the other instructors at Wilken, Mike Amos passed away a few years ago, Paul Lennox was killed in an aircraft bomb explosion on his way back to Nairobi from a visit to the infamous Idi Amin in Uganda. Alan Coulson I am not sure about but heard rumours of his demise. Clive Corner is alive & well & living in UK where he has retired.
I do still have the silver eagle tucked away with other flying memorabilia & had forgotten it was from your dad, thanks for the memory jog.
Do continue to complete this project but I don't know if I can be of any more help but would love to read its conclusion.
Keep up the good work in passing on your knowledge to your students & above all enjoy your flying days to the full.
Regards
Murray
Two things happened as I read Murray's recollections.
I grew up wanting to be a pilot - like my dad - and so, when it came to aviation, he was a giant. The fact that he learned to fly in Africa - in clear, pristine skies over the wild Savannah - only reinforced this feeling. Murray's story, however brief, helped me realize my dad and I had been in the same place, albeit separated by more than 30 years and half a globe. It unearthed a kinship I always knew existed but never fully understood.
And until Murray's note, Amos, Corner, Coulson and Lennox were just names written on the yellowing pages of an old logbook. Now, they had first names, and lives, loved ones, histories, triumphs, and tragedies...heartbeats.
One such heartbeat, that of Paul Lennox, was stopped with such cruelty and senselessness.
On June 27th, 1976, Air France Flight 139 from Tel-Aviv to Paris was hijacked by operatives of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine as well as members of the German Revolutionary Cells. The aircraft was eventually flown to Entebbe Airport near the Ugandan capital of Kampala where the hijackers were supported by the pro-Palestinian forces of President Idi Amin. The hijackers released most of the 260 passengers but kept 106 people - mainly Israelis - captive.
One week later, Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) troops staged a brazen raid. Under the cover of darkness, they landed a force of 100 soldiers at Entebbe Airport and stormed the terminal building where the hijackers were holding their hostages. The commandos killed the hijackers and as many as 45 Ugandan soldiers. Three hostages who were caught in the crossfire also died. The assault force's commander, 30-year-old Lt. Colonel Yonatan Netanyahu (oldest brother of the eventual Israeli Prime Minister) was killed. 103 hostages were saved. Idi Amin was humiliated.
The IDF wedged months of planning into mere hours. The success of the mission hinged on gaining safe passage through the airspace of neighbouring African nations. To do so without permission was considered an act of war. Kenya not only agreed to allow the IDF forces to fly through their airspace but offered Nairobi's international airport as a refueling stop.
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| Bruce MacKenzie - Kenyan Minister for Agriculture, former RAF pilot, British Intelligence Operative, businessman, victim of a terrorist bombing. He was 58 when he died. |
Kenya - led by President Jomo Kenyatta - was sympathetic to the plight of the hostages. Jomo Kenyatta's Minister of Agriculture at the time was a man named Bruce MacKenzie. He was a former RAF pilot with deep connections to British Intelligence. He secured right of passage for the Israeli operation.
Idi Amin, it seems, did not forget this.
Two years later, MacKenzie left his ministerial post for business which took him to Uganda and other countries. He was selling radio technology for Wilken Telecommunications - part of the group that owned Wilken Aviation and its flying school. One of his clients was the Ugandan Army - and Idi Amin. He made frequent trips to visit the African dictator.
May 24th 1978 was one such day. MacKenzie and two fellow businessmen - Keith Savage and Gavin Whitelaw - made a trip from Wilson Airport in Nairobi to Entebbe in a Wilken-owned twin engine Piper Aztec registered 5Y-ACS. Paul Lennox was the pilot.
In Kampala, they met with Amin. When the business of the day was concluded, Amin saw them off at the airport. As Lennox fired up the engines at 4:19 in the afternoon, an Amin aide rushed to the side of the plane with a parcel.
He explained it was a lion's head carved from a block of wood - a gift from Amin to MacKenzie. The former Minister tried to turn it down but the aide insisted. MacKenzie relented, accepted the package, slammed the door shut and Lennox taxied for departure.
Inside the guts of the parcel, deep within the lion's head, beat a heart of explosives and a timer...ticking away the seconds each man had to live.
At 5:58 that evening, the Aztec was nearing Nairobi. Lennox keyed his microphone.
"Escarpment position, 20 miles from Wilson," the pilot reported.
Minutes later, Maasai herdsman heard a loud pop and turned their eyes upwards. Pieces of the Aztec were twirling lazily to earth in flames - like falling leaves glinting in the African sun. The four men were dead.
Idi Amin was immediately implicated. He denied the allegations and called MacKenzie one of his best friends. When Amin tumbled from power in 1979, his "special advisor", 56-year-old British born Bob Astles, was detained in Kenya - suspected as the perpetrator of the bombing and sent to Uganda to face charges. He was acquitted but served 6 and a half years in Luzira Prison. In 1985, he was released and returned to Britain where he lives now. He continues to deny the allegations.
The whispers of Idi Amin's involvement - and that of his associates - persist.
Paul Lennox, the man who signed off on my dad's first solo, just showed up for work that May day in 1978 - to do something he loved.
He paid with his life.
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