The high life

If you were looking for the ultimate Boy’s Own adventure story, then the life of Johnny Smythe QC MBE(mil) OBE would fit the bill. Born in Sierra Leone in 1915, Johnny’s time on earth took in everything from the cockpit of an RAF bomber to a POW camp in Germany and Martin Luther King’s most famous rally – before retirement in Thame, Oxfordshire.

Since Johnny died in 1996, his son Eddy has sought to preserve his dad’s memory, putting together an archive that tells the story of the great man’s life. Which is where Christopher Ward comes in. When a friend of CW CEO Mike France, who lives near Thame, told him about Johnny Smythe, he asked Eddy to be interviewed about his dad’s life.

Here, Eddy talks to Loupe about his father’s achievements, the impact he had on the world and the legacy he left.

 

Hi Eddy! Tell us about your dad’s early life
My father was born in Sierra Leone – as I was. He volunteered for the RAF in 1941 and joined Bomber Command. He came over and completed his training, and was immediately promoted to officer. Bear in mind, until 1939, the RAF had a colour bar as they didn’t believe black people were capable of flying planes. Even after that, there was a huge reluctance to recruit from Africa. There were hundreds of thousands of volunteers, but out of a population of a billion, they recruited 60. Dad was one of those.

 

What was the link between Sierra Leone and Britain?
Sierra Leone was a British colony. But there’s a back story around my family. We’re from the Krios of Sierra Leone and are direct descendants from the times of slavery. When slavery was abolished, Britain sent groups of freed slaves from all over Africa to Sierra Leone. They spoke different languages, ate different food and listened to different music. And they all came together in a brand new culture with a brand new language. They emulated the British and dressed like them. They also built the first university in Africa and became highly educated. They were entitled to get British passports, and the British wanted them to spread Christianity. Therefore, there was an indelible link between the Krios and the British. So when the call came with World War II, my father volunteered. The RAF selected five Krios from Sierra Leone.

 

Did your dad always want to fly?
Not really. He joined a volunteer force when war broke out, saw the advertisement for the RAF, and applied. Then he was on a ship to England. He trained as a pilot, flying Tiger Moths, but because of his mathematical aptitude he became a navigator. He was posted to 623 Squadron in Downham Market, which flew the Short Stirling, the RAF’s first four-engine bomber.

 

Did he fly missions over Germany?
Yes, but he was shot down in November 1943. Despite being injured by shrapnel, he was able to parachute out of the plane and land safely but was captured when the smoke from his cigarette was noticed. He was brutally interrogated, and then sent to hospital where he had two ribs removed. Eventually, he was transferred to Stalag Luft 1 POW camp in Barth, where he was imprisoned for 18 months. After the war, a reporter asked him if he’d tried to escape. He smiled and said: “I did think about it, I could have lost myself by mingling with all the other 6ft 4in black men in Germany!”

 

What did he do after the war?
He went back to London. He was still a navigator and was seconded to the Colonial Office, whose job was to look after the welfare of the Caribbean men and women living in England. As part of the role, he was required to board the HMT Empire Windrush, which was taking a contingent of demobilised men back home. 

 

What happened then?
The economy in Jamaica was poor at the time and unemployment was high. They didn’t have the jobs these men deserved and the Jamaican labour officer appealed to Britain for help. The Colonial Office told my father: “You’re the senior officer. You need to interview these men and come up with some suggestions.” So he compiled a report. There were engineers, farmers, factory workers, miners and others who wanted to join the military and reenlist in the RAF. He classified them and recommended they come back to Britain. The Colonial Office accepted his suggestion and that was the inception of the ‘Windrush generation’.

 

How did he get into law?
When he was at the Colonial Office, his role included representing men who were being court-martialed. He had no legal training but he was eloquent and articulate – and was successful in defending the men.

One of the judges asked my father for lunch, and asked him if he’d thought about law as a career. He said, no. The judge gave my dad an introduction letter to the Inns of Court in London. He was accepted and studied law there, and qualified as barrister. He married his wife – my mother, a nurse from Grenada – and they went back to Sierra Leone. He rose to become solicitor general and then attorney general. He helped write the laws for the country’s independence and did a tour of the USA where he met Robert F. Kennedy, who was attorney general at the time. He was a guest of honour at the rally where Martin Luther King Jr did the ‘I have a dream’ speech, and was presented with a Gold Key to the City of Miami Beach by the Mayor. After leaving the government, he became one of the first black QCs [Queen’s Counsel].

 

What was he like as a barrister?
As a child I loved going to court to watch him in action. He was formidable. He both prosecuted and defended for the government, and defended privately with a high rate of success.

 

Do you have a favourite story?
When he was in private practice in Sierra Leone, he acted for a lot of embassies. One day he was at a cocktail party at the British ambassador’s house. The German ambassador came up to him and said; “Hey, Johnny, I hear you were in the RAF during the war.” And my dad said he was. “I was fighter pilot in the Luftwaffe,” said the ambassador. They started chatting and the German ambassador asked him how the war ended for dad. “Well, on November 18th, 1943 I got shot down,” he said. The ambassador asked him, where. He said, “Meinheim”. The ambassador’s face paled and he said, “On that day I was flying and I shot down my first bomber!”

 

Was your dad angry?
No! They threw their arms around each other and laughed. The ambassador recommended he receive the Order of St Lazarus medal. He was proud of it. Only two Africans have received it: Emperor Haile Sellasie of Ethiopia and my dad!

 

Looking back on his life, what’s his legacy?
Over the last few years, there’s been a lot of interest in him, and I’m called upon to do talks and presentations at school, universities, the RAF, government councils, community groups, museums, libraries and the police. Last year, the local town of Thame – where he retired to – opened a permanent exhibition in the Thame museum. He’s now been honoured with a blue plaque, which will be placed in the last house he lived in in the town.

 

How would you sum him up?
He believed in justice. He was fearless. And never took a backward step when it came to telling the truth. A trailblazer!

You can find out more at john-smythe.co.uk