Epic. Grandiose. Peerless.
Exhaustive. Brick. Mention a Steve Brew No. 41 Squadron history and these are
just some of the words a reader may offer to describe the in-depth work this
author is known for. With the effort to produce Blood, Sweat and Valour (2012)
and Blood, Sweat and Courage (2014), you’d think that’d be enough,
particularly as the periods covered by those two books are arguably the most
intensive period of extended operations the unit will ever see (let’s hope it
remains that way). However, even I’ll admit not everything is about the Second
World War and its aircrew. For at least the past decade, besides the release of
A Ruddy Awful Waste in 2016, and no doubt long before, Steve Brew has been
turning over every rock to produce the ‘prequel’ to the two wartime volumes. It’s
equally as impressive. Reinforce your shelves.
Having spent the final two years
of the First World War in France, the squadron, along with many others, fell to
the rapid demobilisation of the armed forces and disbanded at the end of 1919. Where
Blood, Sweat and Esprit de Corps picks up the story is in 1923, when the
unit reforms at RAF Northolt with, mainly, Sopwith Snipes. The Royal Air Force
is five years old and despite beginning what would be almost two decades of
continuous peacetime growth, it continued to fight off the older Services that
saw the ‘the third brother’ as a drain on resources they could otherwise employ.
Much like post-Second World War
aviation, in which jet aircraft seemed to come and go in military service at
the drop of a hat, such was the advancement in technology at the time, so to
was the inter-war period, although 41 Squadron’s Snipes quickly gave way to Armstrong
Whitworth Siskins which hung around until 1931. Although other types were briefly
tested, the Siskins stayed on and it was perhaps the familiarity with the type
that saw the unit excel at the various competitions, pageants and air displays
that consumed the limited flying hours available outside of the requisite
exercises, etc. Aviation was very much the cutting-edge of technology at the
time and everyone, from the man on the street to royalty, wanted to experience
it.
The ‘novelty’ of aviation, even within
the Services, is further highlighted by the author in a most interesting way.
Such is the breadth of the research that statistics like injuries and deaths caused
by aircraft on the ground are collated and presented as graphs and tables. It
is enlightening to see that, as awareness of the dangers, and perhaps a
developed culture of ‘airmindedness’, becomes widespread within the air force, casualties
reduce (relatively speaking). The death toll of personnel across the board is,
at times, shocking and certainly something that would not be accepted today. While
this type of reporting looks at the RAF as a whole, it serves to place 41
Squadron in context, rather than focus on the unit in isolation. Indeed, under
the microscope, the growing pains of the RAF are reflected in the examination
of this one unit.
The 1920s and early 1930s were
still influenced by the First World War. The experienced men, particularly
early on, had seen combat service, and the aircraft remained open-cockpit
biplanes. It was not until the arrival of the Spitfire in late 1938, as Britain
continued its mad scramble to rearm, that 41 Squadron operated a monoplane. At
times the flying, particularly in the late ’20s and early ’30s as the purse
strings loosened, takes on the feel of a flying club with individual pilots representing
the squadron in civil competitions, some even returning the following year to defend
their title. The underlying theme, however, is the pursuit of excellence, partly
why these competitions were attended in the first place. Despite the obsolete
aircraft and, for a period, the pervading drive for austerity, 41 Squadron stretches
itself, be it as part of tactically hamstrung exercises or as a reliable
component of the latest air-defence reorganisation. Regular reunions of current
and former squadron members also serve to build a legacy, a foundation. Indeed,
the period covered by Blood, Sweat and Esprit de Corps produced more
than twenty 41 Squadron alumni whose careers took them to air commodore or
beyond.
The knowledge of where personnel went
after their time with 41 Squadron is one of the great aspects of this book. It
is, in fact, my favourite. As the author works through the various chunks of
time he’s broken the inter-war period into, personnel arrivals and departures
obviously play a major part. The experiences of those departing range from
leaving the RAF altogether to spending the rest of their working lives in the
Service, and everything in between. For some, their legacy is tangible as, upon
their departure, they presented the squadron with an engraved gift, most likely
of silverplate. Many of these remain in the unit’s care.
It is this commitment to the personnel
of the squadron, even after they leave, that takes this unit history beyond ‘high-level’
works that pass as the norm for this type of book. If the reader wants to learn
about a specific person who served during the period covered in Blood, Sweat and Esprit de Corps, not only will they find a potted history of their service
career, they will also be able to understand what was happening at the time,
i.e., where the RAF was at in its evolution, 41 Squadron’s part of it and the
day-to-day challenges of squadron life.
As a further example of going
where no one else has gone before with unit histories, there is a table recording
tests performed by the RAF medical lab in Aden, when the squadron was overseas
for its one and only peacetime deployment. Something like this helps the
understanding of what serving in Aden (1935–36 during the Abyssinian Crisis) was
like at the time, adding flesh to the airframe and flying bones underpinning the
usual squadron history.
There are gems of detail at the
turn of every page, not least in the copious amount of images. It would be hard
to believe there are any relevant images that have not been included in the
book, such is their number. Hats off to the publisher for their inclusion;
photos, after, all, take up space and therefore cost money. However, the
publisher is also responsible for the only failing of this seminal work of
research endeavour. Every single image has been ‘washed’ through editing
software, with control given over to artificial intelligence. This has
benefited some images but, sadly, has added incorrect, misleading and, in some
cases, abhorrent details to many. The publisher should hang their head in shame.
It is the poorest result of period image manipulation I have seen; whoever was
involved has no idea of anything regarding the RAF. My heart aches for the
author who, so clearly focused on getting the words right when reviewing
proofs, expected the publisher to handle the images, all of which were provided
in good faith.
Such is the strength of the
writing, however, that I chose to ignore the images where possible, casting a
sideways glance at times to see if they were ‘safe’. More than 400 pages of
historical narrative are supported by ten appendices (mostly expected stats
like aircraft, roll of honour, etc.), taking the page count to just short of 700.
A favourite is the final appendix of ‘Statistical Data’, detailing where pilots
came from, their causes of death, officer–non-commissioned officer ratio, mode
of entry into the service, Service education, medal recipients, ranks achieved,
duration of aircraft in service across the entire RAF, etc., etc., etc. Throw
in the usual endpapers – notes, references, glossary, and the like – and you’re
left with a book of over 770 pages. Yes, it’s big, but it never reads ‘heavy’.
The use of technology, problematic
elsewhere, does, however, enhance the adventure of reading Blood, Sweat and Esprit de Corps. The author goes to great pains to refer the reader to Pathé
film reels, many of which were hard to source as accessible (and active) links.
Being able to watch the squadron in action, in the context of what’s just been
read, adds a value not experienced before. It is particularly eye-opening to
see aircraft of the period being flown at their limit, something certainly not
seen today.
This is not your ordinary
squadron history, but it is typical Steve Brew. The reader is not left
wondering about some aspect of the unit’s history during the period covered as
it is dealt with, be it at a personnel, squadron, Service or national level. You
know where 41 Squadron sits in the big picture, you understand its occasional
tenuous survival in the face of fiscal strain, but also its vital part in the
foundation of the RAF’s developing air-power strategies and eventual rearmament.
More importantly, the people who pass through are not just names, ranks and
numbers. They are the squadron; their struggles and triumphs on the crest of
the wave, at the tip of the spear, as eyewitnesses to the evolution of military
aviation in Britain, are the beating heart of this book.
Reinforce your shelves.
