High Flight - Roger Cole

Every aviation enthusiast will encounter the most famous of John Gillespie Magee’s poems.  Its oft-repeated lines have, in varying levels of completeness, been quoted by newsletter editors, orators, authors and even a US President.  Even I quoted a small part at both of our children’s christenings and, naturally, it has been used for more than one epitaph.  It is a staple of aviation literature.  At its very heart is an omnipresent love for, and fascination with, flying.  The poem, therefore, appeals and applies to all and it is this that makes it so widely known and loved.

I have seen mention of its overuse, appearing regularly in the ‘fore-papers’ and appendices as it does, perhaps reducing its effectiveness or impact or even becoming a cliché.  Indeed there are times when I’ve found it in one of my books “yet again” and have skipped ahead to what I, most likely, haven’t read before.  To do so is a dis-service.  The perfect antidote for this ‘laissez-faire’ attitude?  Take a moment, for that’s all it takes, to read “High Flight” again.  Take a moment to marvel at the perfection.  Take a moment to consider the ability of a man to put into words something he has felt that even those with little interest in aviation will, upon reaching out and touching the face of God, sit back and stare skywards.

Who was this man who captured the essence of flight and freedom in so few words?  “High Flight” is, these days, correctly attributed to John Gillespie Magee but “An American serving in the RAF/RCAF” is still found among older titles.  This latter attribution suggests little was known of Magee until relatively recently.  With the release of Roger Cole’s High Flight there is now no excuse (although this is certainly not the first biography to be written about Magee). 

John Magee was born in 1922 in Shanghai.  His American father and English mother were in China as religious workers and both hailed from families where the patriarch was a religious leader.  The American side of the family had done particularly well for themselves since their descendants had emigrated from Ireland in the late 1700s.

Just after he turned six, John and his family moved to Japan to escape the escalating tensions in China.  This was a temporary solution as John, with his two brothers and his mother, was in England by Christmas 1931.  His education began in earnest and it was his years at Rugby School under the direction of its head, Hugh Lyon, that were to have the greatest influence on his life.  Lyon would prove the steadying hand to the tearaway and headstrong Magee.  It was Lyon who recognised the potential in the boy and it was Lyon who gave him his last chance to “reflect on what has been and what might be and what must be”.  He provided the inspirational fatherly influence that Magee Senior, in his long absences, was unable to provide.

A holiday in the US to visit relatives gave John a taste of how well off his American family was.  He enjoyed himself but he yearned to return to England, to the family he knew, to complete his studies at Rugby.  War intervened.  Stranded in the US, he had little choice but to complete his education as directed by the family.  The bright side was that he re-discovered his love of literature and eventually published a small book of poetry in 1940.  These works, included in their entirety in HF, show the development of the artist, the man, and are the stepping-stones to his later efforts.

Watching sea birds and “sea eagles” while on holiday is the first indication of an embryonic interest in flight.  Certainly, he liked to drive fast, to climb tall trees (or ship’s masts!), to test himself.  Flying was the logical progression and the interest matured into enlistment in the Royal Canadian Air Force in October 1940.  He could not return to the US for fear of being imprisoned as a ‘belligerent’.  Not being able to properly farewell his family and friends would have cut deep but the sense of adventure and challenge was a worthy distraction.

By all accounts John was a gifted flyer and was remembered by one his instructors, many years later, as his best pupil.  He soloed at six hours, the first to do so in his class, and regularly topped the marks in the written exams.  He was, however, still John Magee and still prone to bouts of ‘exuberance’ that saw him in hot water on numerous occasions with the most serious being writing-off a Harvard on landing and coming within a hair’s breadth of being washed out, just before receiving his wings, for dogfighting and low flying with another Harvard (it was his finishing first in the ground school exams that saved him).

Arriving in England, at last, in July 1941, now Pilot Officer Magee was posted to No. 53 Operational Training Unit.  Here he experienced the Spitfire for the first time and it was here that ‘that poem’ was written.  If you are familiar with the poem you will notice, as John becomes a more experienced pilot and discovers ever more wonders of flight, the narrative building towards its inception.  With each discovery and experience he finds another piece of the puzzle that would form “High Flight” and, even after writing the poem, he continued to try to “capture the inspiration of flight”.

Throughout his time in England, the Lyon family was never far from John’s thoughts or heart.  He was particularly fond of the eldest daughter, Elinor, and this was reciprocated.  They spent a good deal of time together sharing their love of literature and fascination with the world.  Both wrote poems that truly expressed their feelings (and are included in the text) but neither openly confessed their love.  In the end, they never had the chance to do so.

John was posted to RAF Digby and No. 412 Squadron RCAF.  He served with the squadron for less than two months and flew his first operational sortie (Circus No. 110) in early November.  His time at Wellingore, a satellite field the squadron moved to, is an interesting snapshot of life on the squadron.  Intensive training, acceptance by the squadron, flight tests and convoy patrols are interspersed with good detail of the men’s living arrangements and, of course, John’s observations, relationships and knowledge.  A theme begins to emerge however.  Accidents were a fact of life on an operational squadron and the author gently introduces them as if to familiarise the reader.  Most are mentioned in passing as part of the chronology of John’s time on the squadron. These passages, and the combat losses of close friends, highlight the tenuous hold these men had on life.  You really do understand why some felt themselves to be already dead.  This feeling is evident in the darker tones of some of Magee’s poems – “Then it seems that I am doomed to extinction…”

Magee’s death is handled superbly.  Even before opening the book I knew it was coming but it still hit hard.  It is the abruptness that makes it so effective.  Bang.  It’s done.  He’s gone.  The author built up to the inception of “High Flight” and, as just mentioned, slowly builds to the collision with a regular stream of non-operational accidents.  There is no conclusive realisation.  Only swift and sudden death.  One moment a squadron of Spitfires is diving through a hole in the clouds and the next one of those Spitfires and an Oxford (flown by LAC Ernest Aubrey Griffin who, pleasingly, is honoured by the inclusion of his photograph) have been torn apart and their pilots cease to be.

Everyone, of course, grieves for John but his memory seems to linger and breaks the expected stereotypical ‘move on’ coping mechanism so many employed to deal with constant loss.  The reaction of his roommate is an indication of the effect John had on people’s lives long before his writing became widely known.

Part-biography, part book of poetry, HF must surely be the most complete look at the man yet written.  Wrapped in a typically beautiful Fighting High hardcover, it is a look into the very soul of the man.  That’s something that’s been said before about other books but the inclusion of what might be Magee’s complete works makes this possible.  The author brings the story into the ‘modern’ era by recounting the event that thrust Magee’s work into the spotlight – the Challenger space shuttle disaster.  Ronald Reagan ended his address to the nation eloquently by combining the first and final lines of “High Flight” into one sentence.  This account is preceded by a creative little chapter featuring two workers at the Wellingore Woodsheds as they come to the realisation that the “lad they called Maggie” who “used to hang around here” was appearing in the newspapers.  I found the scenario a little odd but I think the fact that one of them is quoted as being 26 is what threw me.  Maybe I’m missing something but I think I’ve been thrown by the first typo I’ve ever found in a Fighting High book (surely it was meant to be 76?)!

Never mind all of that though for the final third of the book is dedicated to the poetry of John Magee.  Reading them reminded me of high school English Lit classes but never have I been able to understand so clearly where each poem has come from.  For that we must thank the author of High Flight.  Roger Cole has lovingly brought John Gillespie Magee to life through extensive access to the many letters and diaries written by Magee and his family and friends and a writing style that includes a necessary, well-managed touch of creative flair. 

“High Flight” truly has a life of its own.  While expressing what every flyer has felt it also serves a higher purpose.  Magee’s voice is also that of the thousands who did not live to see peace.  As much as Laurence Binyon’s “For The Fallen” gave us the perfect words by which to express our eternal respect, “High Flight” does the same for a generation of young aviators by telling us how they lived and died as they reached higher and flew faster than all before them.

You know the poem.  Now know the man.

Disappearing again

With another exam to get through at the end of April I am disappearing again (not that I've been terribly active of late due to study etc).

I'll be back with a vengeance - so much to write about - in May.  There's lots of new titles to get excited about and I'm hoping to knock off some of my increasing backlog of older reviews.

Until May...

Andy

The Beaufort Correlation

Long-time readers and friends who visit Aircrew Book Review might remember I have a particular passion for the low-level strike work carried out by the RAF and Commonwealth air forces.  Don’t worry if you can’t remember.  Bomber Command has, justifiably, taken over a bit (not that there’s anything wrong with that).  Anyway, of particular fascination is ops flown by crews of twins – Blenheim, Beaufort, Mosquito and Beaufighter – and, screwing the focus down even more, those operating over the Mediterranean and North Sea especially as each theatre influenced the other, in terms of tactics, at various stages throughout the war.  A list of names of ‘Boy’s Own’ proportions comes to mind amid a flurry of terminology – Rover, Banff, Leuchars, RP, Thorney Island, Malta … Hearn-Phillips, Davenport, Edwards, Campbell, Gibbs, Barker, Nesbit.

Those last three all have something in common that makes them perennial ABR favourites.  They are all Beaufort men and they all became noted writers post-war.  As I scribbled this piece, on the day I found out about Roy Conyers Nesbit’s passing, I am reminded of what I wrote when his contemporary, Ralph Barker, died.  This can be happily applied to all three of these great authors:

“… [the] ability to put a face to the many names featured in his books paralleled that of a top fiction writer…”

“Rather than simply recounting the actions the aircrew made famous, the books provide windows into the lives of those who risked all or were in peril.”

Pat Gibbs, in particular, left his heart and soul on the page.  He had demons he needed to exorcise and his writing seemed to be an attempt at a cleansing exercise; as if unloading everything on to paper would take a weight off his shoulders and his heart.  It is an impression that is all too clear in the closing passages of Torpedo Leader.  His preceding work, Not Peace But A Sword, was written after his first tour, while on a slow boat to Egypt, and certainly seemed to have cleared his mind in preparation for what he foresaw, hoped, would happen over the Med.  These two titles remain two of the most insightful and, ultimately, heart-breaking, for he failed to ease his burden as Torpedo Leader reveals, books written by a CO who survived when so many of his men did not.

These are, to my knowledge, the only two aircrew books Gibbs wrote (he went on to write theatre reviews).  Fellow Beaufort men Ralph Barker and Roy Nesbit were much more prolific in this field and aviation history as a whole.  I very much doubt there is an aviation enthusiast who has not read at least one of their more than 40 combined works.  It was Armed Rovers by Nesbit, incidentally, that drew me into the world of Med strike ops.  It is a world I have happily inhabited and, as a result, discovered a wealth of historical accounts and insight.  Just when I thought things had quietened down, in terms of new material, along comes Graeme Gibson and his history of Beaufort-flying (and, later, Beaufighters) No. 16 Squadron, South African Air Force.  My tiny amount of involvement with this project has been an eye-opener in terms of realising just how much information is still out there, what material might still be lurking in shoe boxes, old suitcases and attics, and what the nose and tenacity of a bloodhound can achieve when embodied in a passionate author.  If you think the Med strike units’ accounts are the gems in the ‘European’ war then anything to do with the SAAF, especially for those of us outside of “the Union”, is close to the Holy Grail.

And there’s a perfect example of what this history does: it sends me off on tangents!

What is it, then, about Beaufort authors?  Is it just a coincidence that Gibbs, Barker and Nesbit all wrote magnificently about what they knew?  There’s plenty of Spitfire pilots who have done the same although, admittedly, the population of that group is substantially larger.  That, I think, is the heart of the issue and why they stand out.  From a small population emerged three remarkable writers and two, Barker and Nesbit, went on to become respected and renowned RAF and aviation historians.

All three are now gone as Nesbit passed away on February 2.  It sounds silly, especially as the ranks of WW2 veterans rapidly diminish, but I regarded Nesbit as a constant – he’d keep writing and we’d keep reading – so it was in somewhat of a daze that I regarded his death.  Another vital, valuable important and historic link to another world, and another time, was gone.  No more insight that, despite the passing years and their effect on memories, you knew was hard won.  The magnificent Nesbit ‘catalogue’ was now complete.

Well, not quite.  I wrote to Pen & Sword under the somewhat misguided belief (incorrectly remembered assumption) that they might have access to some Nesbit manuscripts that would make a nice tribute if they were re-published.  They didn’t but still had news.  Nesbit’s final book, An Expendable Squadron, is due for release in August.  It is the history of his own unit, No. 217 Squadron, as it flew Ansons, Beauforts and Beaufighters, in the UK, Malta and the Far East, while hunting U-boats, attacking ports and anything that moved in coastal areas and shipping lanes.  In other words it will be Nesbit at his best and perhaps most passionate.

As the literary chapter of my most-beloved trio of aircrew authors comes to a close I can add another to the list – Arthur Aldridge and his poignantly titled The Last Torpedo Flyers.  The author was, of course, a Beaufort pilot and this book, which I only excitedly discovered last year, is his story ably supported by the memories of his gunner.  I have yet to read TLTF but every time I see it on the shelf, or even think about it as I do now, I get little flutters of nervous and excited anticipation (accompanied by warm, misty-eyed happiness).  Nesbit well and truly set the hook with The Armed Rovers.

With the forthcoming first flight of the Australian-built Beaufort, under restoration in Queensland and still a few years away, a new generation, and many who have been around the block a few times, will suddenly experience what a flying Beaufort looks, sounds and smells like.  Combine this magnificent experience with a few good books on the subject, written by those who did it, and there’s a strong chance Gibbs’, Barker’s and Nesbit’s works will hit the new release stands yet again (along with important Australian books by the likes of King and Page).  Their legacy is at once quantifiable and undefinable.  Their list of books is now finite but its combined effect on our collective memory, and knowledge, is greater than the sum of its parts.  That’s the way it will be.  I still don’t know how or why but there is that enduring question that at once provides the answer but then opens up a world full of tangents, fascination and truly remarkable flyers.

What is it about the Beaufort men?

Vale Roy Conyers Nesbit.  Thank you.

V1 Flying Bomb Aces - Andrew Thomas

I have a few Osprey titles on the shelf but can’t say I actively chase them as my main interest is in the memoir style of book or, at least, unit histories that include good biographical detail.  However, these and Squadron Signal’s In Action series are what I cut my teeth on but it’s been years since I ‘seriously’ read one.  I was pleasantly surprised – somewhat fascinated if I’m honest – when I sat down to read V1 Flying Bomb Aces.  The well-known Osprey aces series has earned an enviable reputation for piling a heap of information (and colour) into a small, attractive and useful package.  V1FBA is no exception but what made me take notice was the introduction to a number of accomplished pilots who I had either not heard of before or had certainly not read about in detail.  To cut a long story short I was hooked.

With the Allied invasion of Europe, in June 1944, the people of Britain must have breathed a collective sigh of relief and looked forward to quieter times on the home front.  This increased feeling of relative security would have been short-lived, however, as the Germans launched the first of their ‘reprisal weapons’ – the V1 – on June 13, 1944. While not wholly unexpected (the Allied bombing of research and test installations had severely delayed the project) it was clear the Germans were not a spent force. 

The first successful interception of a V1 was achieved three days after the first attack.  The unguided, pulse-jet powered V1 was launched from ground installations and aircraft and the ‘campaign’ would eventually claim nearly 24,000 casualties.  Material damage was relatively light but the threat was substantial and defending against the V1 required a considerable allocation of resources which might otherwise have been employed in support of the invasion forces.

The most effective counter was, of course, to overrun the launch sites in continental Europe.  The ‘home defences’ would be the key tool until this was achieved.  Defensive corridors were created to combat the newly-employed weapon.  Fighter patrols were allocated various sectors and belts of anti-aircraft guns and barrage balloons covered other areas.  The sectors over the sea were the first line of defence and the RAF’s Tempests and Spitfire Mk XIVs, in particular, were regarded as the aircraft capable of making interceptions within the realms of their standard performance envelope i.e. they were already fast enough at low level!  These two types are almost the stereotypical V1 interceptors but numerous other aircraft also achieved success.  The book also features, among others, tales of Mosquitos, Mustangs and Meteors.  Even the Beaufighter and Black Widow get a look in! 

While many flying bombs did get through the defensive corridors proved extremely effective.  Interception tactics were developed as the ‘campaign’ progressed.  Many V1s were shot down although the resulting explosion could damage the pursuing fighter so the well-known ‘tipping’ to upset the bomb’s internal gyro was also practiced.  This was first achieved by the wingtips of the two aircraft actually touching but, despite the flying bomb’s plywood wings, resulted in damage to the intercepting fighter.  It was quickly discovered that simply placing the fighter’s wingtip near the V1’s wing disrupted the airflow enough to cause a loss of control from which the bomb’s internal mechanisms could not recover.

As the title suggests, this new book looks at the incredible men who were particularly successful against the V1 (one was involved in 60 kills!).  It is an easy and informative read full of first-hand accounts of action and flying the fighters to their absolute limit.  The colour plates are well done and the cover reflects the urgency of the anti-Diver campaign and also provides insight into just how far the opposing sides’ technology had come.  Physically, as a book of just under 100 pages, V1FBA does not immediately seem particularly good value for money (about A$30).  However, factor in the wealth of information, the colour plates and standard of production and you’re looking at a better investment.  Include three things some hardback publishers don’t bother with – appendices, a bibliography and an index – and you’ve got a book that punches above its weight.

As already mentioned, I was particularly taken by the plethora of unfamiliar pilots’ names.  This is the type of thing I absolutely love – discovering hitherto unknown (to me) aircrew, being tantalised by biographical snippets and then finding out more about them.  With luck some are discovered to have had incredibly long careers and, with more luck, they put pen to paper at one stage and recorded their experiences in book form (the holy grail!). 

For example, the author introduced Gordon Loversridge ‘Snowy’ Bonham, a New Zealander, who had earned a DFC while flying Buffalos over Singapore.  Several years later here he is intercepting V1s!  Just incredible.  I was off and running trying to find out more but, while I didn’t get very far, partly because Bonham was killed in 1944 at the height of the V1 campaign, it occurred to me that this is exactly what the book is for.  While not a ‘one-stop shop’ on the subject (it certainly doesn’t claim to be) it provides more than enough to educate and inspire.  Some readers will be happy to treat this as their main source for information on the pilots who were most successful against the V1.  Others will heed the Siren’s call and use it as a springboard for further research and discoveries.  It excels at both and Andrew Thomas has, as expected given his previous works, done well within the constraints this prolific series requires.

V1 Flying Bomb Aces covers very familiar territory.  However, it is well-produced, a fascinating indulgence from beginning to end and will make a good addition to any enthusiast’s shelves.

Dam Busters: Failed To Return - Robert Owen et al

As has been quoted many times there are two constants in life – death and taxes.  Similarly, it is a given that, pretty much every year, there will be aircrew books published on one of two subjects – the Battle of Britain and the Dam Buster raid.  Both events are household names and have been the genesis of many a 1940s air war obsession (I can blame the BoB).  They have become the ‘poster boys’ of the wartime RAF and have shaped the public’s perception of the service in the years since.  There is still much to be written on both subjects although this seems less likely when comparing the two – the raid on the dams involved just one squadron so its scope of personal stories is relatively small.  A Dam Buster book will always sell well but how do you make it really stand out?

I’ve written about a large format book by Fighting High Publishing before.  That book was, and continues to be, a resounding success and a benchmark for quality and presentation.  The latest in the Failed To Return series, Dam Busters: Failed To Return, continues this legacy.

The premise behind the FTR series is similar to author Steve Darlow’s Five Of The Few and Five Of The Many – detailed biographies of aircrew collected under the one title.  As is plainly clear, the common thread in this more recent series of books (three titles with a fourth due in 2014) is that the subjects did not survive to see peace.  This serves to make the books poignant, quite moving and deserving of a treatment of the highest standard.

The losses suffered by No. 617 Squadron during the raid are very well known.  Some of the pilots’ names, in particular, are very familiar among aircrew enthusiasts and researchers.  Gibson, Shannon, Martin, Hopgood, Young, McCarthy and Munro all come to mind easily.  However, they do not even account for half of the pilots involved and are just seven of the 133 men who flew the raid.  As is often the case, those who survived have received more literary attention so this collective work by four experienced Bomber Command authors is most welcome.  Indeed, it borders on the magnificent.

DBFTR opens, as expected, with an overview of the raid and the technology that made it possible.  It is all familiar ground but Robert Owen does well to keep this section under control and not get carried away with detail.  This is, after all, a book dedicated to the men involved.  He returns later to provide two of the five biographical chapters and the postscript analysing the effects of the raid and the subsequent post-war examinations and conclusions, for better or worse, performed by all and sundry.  His first biography of one of the very experienced pilots on the raid – Bill Astell DFC – is the perfect foil to Steve Darlow’s opener which details a young pilot for whom the raid was only his fourth operational sortie.

Sean Feast and Arthur Thorning provide the remaining chapters.  The former writes, in his usual flowing style, about two of the three men who became POWs – both were from Hopgood’s crew - while the latter presents a beautifully detailed piece on the best known of the six airmen featured – ‘Dinghy’ Young.

The authors really go to town on their charges but all present the minutiae of training and ops in a very readable style and seamlessly work in the personal aspects that bring each man to life.  Happily, they are not the only men, who failed to return, featured in the book as all 53 killed are included in a roll of honour in the final pages.  Indicative of the effort made with this title this roll is more than just a list of names.  At the very least their age, burial location, headstone inscription and crew are given.  Where possible, photos of either the headstone or the man himself (or both) are included.  It is a really nice touch.  Reading through these pages makes me hope for a second book about these men although, to match the content of this book, there would be some repetition as the circumstances surrounding the loss of five of the eight aircraft downed have already been detailed.  The roll is a fitting conclusion to a book that opens with Barnes Wallis’ moving letter of gratitude, guilt and sympathy to AVM Sir Ralph Cochrane.  This text is respectfully laid over a greyed-out photo of a cemetery.  I read this aloud to our baby son, glanced at him, then glanced at the headstones and had to stop to compose myself.

Dam Busters: Failed To Return is certainly not the only book on the raid to be published in this 70^th anniversary year (Cooper’s classic The Men Who Breached The Dams has been reprinted … to name one) but it certainly stands out as it is so very well done.  It won’t be the last book on this most famous of raids but all forthcoming Dam Busters books, including a potential sequel, now have a higher standard to achieve if they are to compete with this format, content and value for money.