The British Vice Consul in Benghazi when we arrived was a renowned bingo caller. Not a common skill amongst Vice Consuls, but times are changing. His tour of duty was terminated abruptly because he was found to be a bigamist; a combination of indiscretions which may prove to be unique amongst British Vice Consuls, though some of His Majesties Honorary Vice Consuls may have colourful histories.
Most British expatriates were happier with the new Vice Consul who was young and presentable. One day he turned up in my office and told me the story of a young Englishman placed by the British Council to teach school children English in the high country in the interior. The people there were Muslim and belonged to the Senussi sect led by King Idris. Their tribal ties were strong, but they were tolerant folk, and insanity was tolerated amongst them, but it did not pay to insult them.
The young Englishman had lost his mind and should have been mentored by the British Council with more care. The notion that a lone young Englishman could live and teach amongst the tribes was fanciful at best and a hangover of the old colonial mind set. He had taken to wandering around the villages loudly proclaiming himself as the new Christ. He had to be removed and sent back to UK. If he was to travel in a commercial airline, he could well start to strut the isles proclaiming himself as Jesus. You can see that would create some unease the amongst passengers such as that generated by belligerent drunks on a holiday flight to the Costas.
The Vice Consul soon realised that I was doubtful about getting him to UK by air in his present state. He left to convey my unease to the Consul Genral. Within a very short time I received an invitation to the Consul General’s residence and found myself having Gin and Tonic with him and his lady wife in the embassy garden. So, well flattered and slightly influenced by Gin I agreed to send the poor young teacher home by air as a casualty if the Consul General agreed to have him sedated before he boarded the aircraft and accompanied by a good strong male nurse from the British Military Hospital armed with a syringe of happy juice sufficiently powerful to dissuade him from proclaiming the second coming.
To accommodate the poor young teacher, I arranged to have a stretcher fitted in the first-class compartment in an aircraft flying directly to London Heathrow airport. I was at the airport to watch his embarkation and brief the aircrew. I was apprehensive when I met the army nurse chosen to accompany the aspiring Saviour. He was not impressive, but it was too late to change him for a more robust one. Once he and the aspiring messiah were aboard, I talked to the head steward. Happily, he was famous for being a very tough citizen. He agreed to act decisively if there was a disturbance.
I heard the story of the deluded teacher’s adventurous flight home in a letter of reprimand from London. His sedation wore off over Switzerland and his religious zeal turned political when he found there was a bulkhead between First and Tourist class in the aircraft. In the name of the political left, he set about destroying the bulkhead. He was dissuaded from his efforts by the chief steward who knocked him out with a powerful uppercut.
Our political zealot found another cause to support vigorously when he arrived at Heathrow. He had been a Rhesus positive baby of a Rhesus negative mother. A matter of some concern for him. His mother would have received special treatment throughout the gestation. She must have complained about her suffering during her pregnancy and clearly made her son feel angry. He strode around Heathrow telling innocent staff and bemused passengers that he was a Rhesus monkey.
I was severely reprimanded. The consul general appeared to have avoided chastisement and was later promoted. The British Council were, in my view, culpable in both recruitment and duty of care. I hope the young teacher was not abandoned by his careless employers.
DON'T KILL ME NOW 