Blood, Sweat And Valour - Steve Brew

You know the times when you just have to sit back and take stock of what you see before you?  Often, it is a good thing to be sitting down as the euphoria and awe that washes over you might be a bit too much!  Such was the case when my copy of Steve Brew's epic work on No. 41 Squadron - Blood, Sweat And Valour - arrived in the mail yesterday. 

Epic is an understatement but the only other word that comes close is "brick".  At 980+ pages this book is simply massive yet, cleverly, maintains a manageable size in that it would not look out of place among the big hardback fiction books that top the bestseller lists.  Fiction it most certainly is not of course.  As one of two units to receive the Spitfire Mk XII in 1943, No. 41 Squadron and its EB codes are a familiar sight to RAF, Spitfire and WW2 afficianados.  Exploiting the first Griffon-powered Spitfire in operational service to the hilt, the Squadron excelled particularly against the V-1 flying bomb threat.

However, while the Mk XII is perhaps the most famous 'face' of the Squadron post-Battle of Britain, there is a reason why this volume (effectively volume two) is so large.  No. 41 Squadron was involved in just about every major operation that has since become iconic within the history of the RAF - Dieppe, D-Day, Operation Big Ben (anti-V2 ops) and the Arnhem landings.  A ridiculously impressive service record that deserves a ridiculously comprehensive 'biography'.

This has been achieved with BSV and is an absolute credit to the tireless work of Steve Brew.  He is the current historian for the Squadron and, beyond the valued relationships he has developed with current and past members, has a direct and proud link to the unit in that his great uncle was shot down and taken prisoner in 1941.  A very quick flick-through of the book revealed an attention to detail very rarely seen particularly with regard to personal details ... and not just of aircrew.  This is truly a tribute to every serviceman who had the privilege of calling the Squadron home.

As you'd expect from a book of this size and detail, there is a lot of text.  Happily, there is no separate photo section.  The more than 300 photographs can be found throughout the book and are placed so as to be relevant to the text surrounding them.  Nothing like putting a face to a name as you read.  One of the more personal aspects of the book are the numerous caricatures which reflect a lighter side of squadron life and are the perfect foil to the purposeful, and somewhat sobering, maps and tables.  Text that is missing, however, is an index.  This would have been invaluable but its absence is understandable given how much bigger it would have made the book.  Fortunately, Steve Brew has circumvented this somewhat by including a downloadable personnel index on his BSV website.

A word of advice.  This is, obviously, a very heavy book and I was reliably informed it will justifiably retail in Australia for more than $70.  I am not in this game for free books so rather than expect publishers Fonthill Media (they have excelled themselves with the production of what must have been a challenging project to put together) to foot the bill, I bought my copy through an Abebooks seller in the UK for roughly, all up, A$40.  I am a strong supporter of book stores but, like you, have a limited budget for such things so like to 'invest' wisely. 

That this book is accessible affordably is something to take advantage of as its value goes beyond anything monetary.  It will teach, enlighten, move and entertain even the most 'hardened' reader of this genre.  BSV is the shining light that guides us down the historical path to a time seven decades in the past.  It is a past we are losing as the men of that time dwindle in number.  Blood, Sweat And Valour keeps their memory alive like no other RAF squadron history before.

They Hosed Them Out - John Bede Cusack

I'm not much of a fan of aircrew fiction.  For the most part I find little, niggly errors (factual and historical and perhaps some not so small) that get under my skin. That said, the same can be found in non-fiction books on the same subject! I do admire the ability to write and publish one's own book but, really, aircrew fiction is not for me. I mean, there's so many true stories out there - some more outlandish and incredible than the most gung-ho fiction author's imagination - I'll never have time for anything else!

However, where the fiction is written by a former airman, I am more than happy to recognise the exception to the rule. Here's someone who was there and saw it all, for better or for worse. Whatever the reason for writing a fiction story rather than a non-fiction one is not for me to ponder (too much). I am just grateful the effort was made and, in doing so, a window to the man's soul is revealed. It would take an iron will of a type never seen before to not let one's opinions and emotions be reflected in the story. Understanding what they went through is part of respecting and honouring their memory and a 'fictionalised' account can achieve this just as well.

They Hosed Them Out's reputation precedes it but, until now, it has remained somewhat of an enigma. Published incomplete, but with no effect on the story, it was written by former air gunner John Bede Cusack ... whose name didn't even appear on the cover (pseudonym John Beede). So, an enigma wrapped in a mystery etc etc. Whatever it was, THTO's impact cannot be denied. This fictionalised autobiographical effort has been justifiably elevated to 'classic' status and shares this pantheon with the well-known (non-fiction) works of Don Charlwood and Ivan Southall.

How can something like this have new life breathed into it? Why not just ride on the coat tails of the book's legacy? Fortunately, this was not the approach taken when this new edition was put together. Wanting to honour Cusack publicly, perhaps giving the man the publicity he somewhat avoided, this new edition has included, for the first time, all of the chapters originally written and, again for the first time, included his full name on the cover. It does not stop there, however, as the editor, Robert Brokenmouth, has gone to great lengths to, where possible, reference the people and events of this fictional account to Cusack's logbook (and other sources) and the operations he was known to have flown. This has been achieved through the use of footnoting and appendices so the original narrative is in no way interrupted or impaired. It is a wonderful piece of work with the added gem of a short biography of Cusack written by his daughter.

So, not only do you get to experience a classic book in its entirety for the first time but you also see just how firmly this work of fiction is planted in reality. The seed planted by 'Beede' many decades ago has truly matured. The original was hard to put down and is truly revered by those who have lost themselves between the covers. Expect the same from the new edition ... including the appendices!

Happily, this new THTO comes presented as a high-quality paperback. Wakefield Press' tagline on their website is "We love good stories and publish beautiful books". No argument here. The pages are crisp and the book has that lovely, solid feel to it that I have come to expect from quality publishers in Australia and New Zealand. 

What excites me the most about this book is that it is not 'just another' heavy bomber crew book. If you haven't read the book, this new edition may give you that false impression with the cover image. Cusack flew as a gunner in Wellingtons, Venturas (Eindhoven raid, anyone?!) and Mitchells. I can't even think of a book written by someone who flew all of these workhorse types operationally during their wartime career.  They are certainly few and far between and, with the justifiably massive interest in Bomber Command's heavy campaign at the moment, that's what makes the timing of this new edition so important. These were the 'other' bomber men and they will be remembered. They Hosed Them Out is fiction but not like anything you have experienced before.

ISBN 978-1-74305-1-054

Coastal Dawn - Andrew D. Bird

The Blenheim fighter men were pioneers. In their hands they had a twin-engined aircraft that, upon introduction, was a step ahead of the single-engined fighters of the day. While this advantage was fleeting, the fighter version of the Blenheim allowed the RAF to provide long-range escort to coastal convoys and begin to develop the intruder role. As we all know, the Blenheim, in any guise, proved to be outclassed when confronted with modern fighter aircraft. Despite this, the type, in bomber form, soldiered on effectively for several years. The Blenheim fighter was, however, very quickly replaced by the Beaufighter but not before the older type had laid the foundations for heavy fighter operations.

The early years of the war were particularly hard for Britain and her allies. The Blenheim fighters were in it from the start. If the aircrew did not know the inadequacies of their aircraft in the role, they quickly found out yet they continued to fly and fight with astounding courage. If anything, what the aircraft lacked in performance, the crews made up for with their skill and commitment.

Despite the high casualties of Blenheim fighter crews from the Phoney War and the retreat from France to Norway and the Battle of Britain, their actions have often been overshadowed by those of the Spitfire and Hurricane squadrons. The crews are certainly mentioned in accounts of each of these campaigns but few authors have sat down and pulled all of the threads together. That, happily, is no longer the case.

Andy Bird is best known for his in-depth look at Coastal Command’s Banff Strike Wing in A Separate Little War. With his new book, Coastal Dawn, he turns his gaze to the very beginnings of the RAF’s heavy fighter ‘era’. It is a period poles apart from the hard-hitting, long range strikes performed by the Mosquito squadrons of the Banff Strike Wing when, mostly, the RAF crews had the upper hand. Their predecessors in the Blenheims, though, were almost always up against it so there is certainly a different feel to CD. It is evident as well that the author has adjusted his writing style. The detail is obviously still there but it is wonderfully humanised with long passages from crews’ memories interspersed with very well-researched ‘creative’ scene setting and descriptions of events and landscapes. The recurring theme, however, is one of loss. If you were to flick through this book and stop at 10 different places, I could almost guarantee the majority of those would contain some detail of a lost crew or a forced-landing. It is really quite sobering but you cannot help be uplifted by the spirit with which these crews flew and fought. Just astounding.

Coastal Dawn is a typical Grub Street hardback – solid, good-looking and well-produced (in the UK!). At a tick over 220 pages it feels good in the hand. This is largely due to the good quality paper used. There is no glossy photo section as is often found in books of this ilk. Due to the good paper, the many photographs are reproduced within the text and are comparable to their glossy ‘counterparts’. Indeed, the placing of the photos in the text means they are immediately relevant and many put faces to names now long gone.

Andy Bird has excelled himself with Coastal Dawn. The same can be said for Grub Street who have produced a truly beautiful book and, having seen other recent releases from them, it is clear they have raised the bar in the hardback aircrew book stakes … but then, the Blenheim fighter crews deserve nothing less.

The book is available direct from Grub Street of course but also from large online booksellers like Booktopia.

The Bomber Command Memorial - We Will Remember Them

June 2012 was a long time coming for many people, not least the veterans of Bomber Command. Decades of large-scale criticism and derision by those who chose to forget the whole reason behind the bombing campaign have given way, finally, to widespread respect, admiration and a lot of love for the Bomber Boys. That’s not to say there hasn’t always been honour for these men but it is plainly clear now that the work of authors, historians and enthusiasts has seen the general public and, importantly, the media, largely understand just what these men faced, fought and how they lived and died.

Despite this groundswell of ‘popular’ support, the men of Bomber Command remained officially unrecognised for their service. There is no campaign medal and, until June this year, there was no one public space that honoured this particular group of service men and women. It took a throwaway comment from a veteran in late 2007, admittedly while in good company, for something to happen.

The rest, to roll out the first cliché, is history. Driven by the Heritage Foundation and ably supported by other worthy organisations such as the Bomber Command Association, The Bomber Command Memorial became a reality when it was opened on June 28 by Her Majesty The Queen. Many veterans were present but for some, 70 years after they served, it was obviously too late. That they now have a permanent and magnificent place for anyone to reflect on their service and sacrifice is a testament to a dedicated group of men and women. From ‘leaders’ Robin Gibb and Jim Dooley to Steve Darlow donating proceeds of book sales; to the veterans, relatives, friends and enthusiasts sending in their hard-earned, arranging sponsorship or standing on street corners shaking a tin … it has truly been an unfathomable worldwide effort. The memorial’s very existence owes everything to many fine people.

The story behind the idea for the memorial right through to its unveiling needed to be told to not only honour the aircrew but also to shine a light on the ‘drivers’ of the project itself. Fighting High Publishing is still a relatively new name on the military publishing scene but it has certainly made an impact in a short time. Already renowned for high quality books, the company easily caught the attention of the memorial organisers through FH principal Steve Darlow’s efforts arranging book-signing events to raise funds for the project. Set the unenviable task of drawing together all aspects of the project from that throwaway comment to The Queen’s unveiling – on top of providing context through Bomber Command history – Fighting High has produced an astounding large-format hardback that, in itself, is a standalone memorial.

The Bomber Command Memorial – We Will Remember Them is a collective effort from familiar people – Robin Gibb, Jim Dooley, Gordon Rayner, Steve Darlow and Sean Feast – deeply connected to the project. As already mentioned it recounts the project from the germ of an idea through to the BBMF Lancaster anointing the structure with poppies from above. Naturally the bomber campaign is examined – expertly so as it turns out as it is broken into several sections throughout the book and a lot of information is provided in a relatively short space. This overview is ably, no, strongly, supported by ‘spotlights’ on particular raids throughout the campaign. These are very well done as they add the finer detail the Bomber Command at War sections necessarily avoid. The book is certainly well served by having Bomber Command historians Darlow and Feast on board.

It will be no surprise to discover the real gems of this book are the personal accounts from the air and ground crew themselves. The vast majority are from veterans who were interviewed especially for the book and who, collectively, form a complete heavy bomber crew. This is a marvellous device that serves to remind the reader that the loss of a crew was often the loss of seven, sometimes eight, men. I realise this sounds an obvious thing to say but think about it – 10 aircraft lost without trace, 57 bombers failed to return from the target. They weren’t all killed but…

The Last Letters sections hammer this ever-present aspect home and are especially poignant with the originals being reproduced in photo form with the text transcribed alongside. These sections are expertly dispersed throughout the book and the several featured are fitting endnotes to the many small photos of men featured in the small They Gave Everything insets. Behind each of these men were families who may have received such last letters or who may have only received an official telegram and a letter from an empathetic, if not sympathetic and grieving, CO.

The memorial is very much a 21st Century project even though it has been 70 years in the making and employed age-old skills in its construction. The extensive colour photos are a stark reminder of this but there is an even stronger link to the past. The veterans interviewed for the book were asked their opinion of the memorial and the efforts being made. To include these comments – made today by those who were there in their youth – is a masterstroke. The sum of these words would be lucky to be one per cent of the book’s content yet they are the most powerful and the most fitting. In some ways, the last words on the memorial have been given to those who deserved it so much.

That this book is a triumph is obvious. It is not only a tribute to those of Bomber Command but it is a record of honour for those who toiled so hard in the face of significant opposition (sound familiar?) to build something magnificent on a corner of Hyde Park in London. From the front cover photo – note the five aircrew in the image to signify the smaller crews of the Wellingtons, Whitleys and Hampdens (an idea discussed with Steve Darlow in the early days) – to the back cover acknowledgements, the highest quality abounds. Fifty pages in during a ‘flick-through’ I was suddenly hit by a wave of emotion as I saw an artist’s rendition of the structure and the magnificent bronze sculpture (whose genesis and creation are also documented) within. It was, all of a sudden, so real. Everything is so well put-together that this really must be the benchmark for all future books featuring the exploits of RAF and Commonwealth aircrew. It is truly, powerfully, the finest work on Bomber Command yet to be produced. Nothing less would be expected from the publisher. Nothing less would be expected for the men.

I pre-ordered my copy to ensure 10 GBP went to the memorial. At 19.95 GBP plus another 13 for air mail to Australia it is a remarkably affordable book as far as ‘commemorative’ titles go. My copy, which arrived two days ago, is the standard, unsigned edition but there is also the option to purchase the book in a hard slip case and there is a planned UK signing event. All orders now will see sales proceeds and signing fees go direct to the memorial for its continued upkeep.  I truly believe this title will be the best-selling aircrew book of the year (1,000 had been sold by July) and that means a lot.

Luck, pleasant surprises ... and Typhoons

I'm always on the lookout for books featuring the men who flew the Hawker Typhoon.  It is one of those aircraft that demands awe and, considering the environment it worked in, it certainly gets it ... the men even more so.  There's not a massive amount of books on the subject out there - there are some very well known ones - so I regard finding any memoir-style title about the Tiffie and her men as a bit of a coup.  As you can imagine, the excitement can know no bounds.

Anyway, in late October we were in Echuca, Victoria, on a family long weekend. Echuca is a lovely place with a lot of history. Anywhere with a river scores high on my scale of places to visit. As the family is wont to do, I found myself wandering the main street behind the heritage port precinct and stopping in at various shops selling trinkets and nibbles. As ever, my book senses were on high alert and any shop with a “oo” in its title (I hate bookkeepers!) had my attention. My nose was set to its paper setting and my ears were tuned-in for the rapturous screams of fellow book-lovers finding that one title they’ve always been after. A look through one second-hand shop – books and antiques – revealed an interestingly diverse military section but nothing that caught my eye.

We eventually made it across the road and I sauntered into a dedicated second-hand bookseller, Read Heeler (geddit?) Book Shop. A quick nod and “G’day” to the man behind the counter was the extent of my pleasantries as I made a beeline, again, for the military section.

Scanning the shelves, I was pleased to see several familiar titles but I did note the prices were beyond my budget or, at least, I had paid less for my copy of the same title. However, Michael Enright’s Flyers Far Away had “$10” pencilled on its first page and, since I didn’t have that title in my collection of ‘anthology’ aircrew books, the visit to this bookshop was already a good one. Not astounding, just good.

This changed rapidly as, several shelves further on in my scan, a slim volume caught my eye and two words that, when I had thought about it in the past, I thought I’d never see caught my eye as if they’d just lit up. There it was. Typhoon Warfare. Reminiscences of a Rocket Firing Typhoon Pilot. The first copy I had seen. Not since finding Sortehaug’s The Wild Winds at the RNZAF Museum had a book leapt off the shelf into my hands more quickly. Immediately I knew this was perhaps my one chance to buy this book (something to look into there regarding another edition perhaps?) as the author had passed away. He had been selling his copies for $20 so with some trepidation, I opened the cover and was pleasantly surprised to see $15. In reality, that’s what the book is worth as a slim, second-hand paperback.

Long story short, $25 and a few more pleasantries later, I was walking out the front door of Read Heeler in somewhat of a daze. No one, other than my wife, would understand my jubilation and, indeed, she did nod approvingly with a knowing smile (or was it a "That's nice, dear"?) as I had once again bought books to add to our groaning (since rationalised slightly) shelves. Ah, basking in the warmth of a successful hunt.

Funnily enough, I pulled another rabbit out of the hat just this past Saturday. This time, however, it involved a book I could find relatively easily but was a fair way down the ‘wish list’. If only I’d known just how good it is…

I was in Melbourne overnight as I had to sit an exam on Saturday morning. Melbourne is one of those cities with lots of lovely little alleyways full of cafes and shops and nooks and crannies. The kind of place you’d expect to find eclectic and specialist bookshops (indeed, one of the leading military bookstores in the country, Hyland’s, is in the Melbourne CBD). However, the discount bookshop I found – its name escapes me but it’s between 440 and 480 Collins Street – was not in one of these alleys. I refrained from popping in until after the exam – no one was more surprised than me when I passed. The glow of a successful brain dump continued as my usual scan of the shelves, initially interesting but not heart-grabbingly so, settled on a 200-page hardback nestled in to the end of a shelf. The first thing I noticed was the Grub Street logo at the base of the spine. “Ooh, hello”, I breathed quietly.

The rest is history as I discovered a lovely (Grub Street do make fine books) copy of To Live Among Heroes by George Armour Bell. The Typhoons (yes, Tiffies again) on the cover are enough for me but the “A Medical Officer’s Insight into the Life of 609 Squadron in NW Europe 1944-45” will soften even the hardest of aviation hearts. Despite my excitement with regard to Typhoon Warfare, Bell’s book has proven to be my purchase of the year (in a year where The Bomber Command Memorial Book is on its way).

As I flew back to Jodi and Maggie that afternoon, I started reading even though I have two other books on the go. I was immediately struck by Bell’s humour and heart. It is a truly wonderfully written effort and there are already hints of his understanding of flying stress and the affinity he had for the pilots … and the trust and love they had for him. That the squadron led him astray in many ways is an understatement (he was, after all, a young Scottish doctor who had had a relatively sheltered and peaceful life) but he grew as both a man and a professional and felt the loss of his charges as keenly as the pilots who witnessed the “ball of fire”. At one stage on the plane I had to turn away from my fellow passengers as I collapsed into uncontrollable, body-shaking, tear-inducing laughter as Bell recounted a briefing by CO Johnny Wells (with an attending Dwight D Eisenhower!). On the next page, after again smiling at a pilot putting on his silk inners (gloves) and saying there were that many Tiffies on the op he was going up to direct traffic, the still present tears began to build again, but for the opposite reason, as Bell waited for said pilot to return from a costly trip…

To Live Among Heroes is what you always wish for when you settle down to read a new book. It pushes all of the buttons, is delightfully written and gives you that light-headedness and warm glow all good books do. Find a copy.  The rewards are immeasurable.

Time for a time out ... a sabbatical really!

I know regular readers of ABR will be thinking "He hasn't done anything all year, what does he need a break for?!" and, as we all know, they're correct.  It has been a crazy year with not much reading done and even less writing and, of late, it has been getting to me as I have made commitments to authors to help publicise their books.

However, I have an exam coming up in early December and the study is not happening at all at the moment.  ABR is not impacting on that at all but I need to take the focus off it at (lots of thinking and emails etc behind the scenes = distraction!).  Time to get a grip and knuckle down for the next few weeks (as well as find some new cliches) so am putting the nagging desire to get reviews written aside for the next month.  I will still plug away with small things on the Facebook page but this too will also slow down.  Come mid-December I will be back in the swing of things without the study hanging over my head.

If I get the chance, I will post another Kristen Alexander review this month but no guarantees.

Thanks for your support this year.  Because of you, ABR continues to grow and is now recognised as a useful resource and promotional tool.  There's room for improvement but I could not have asked for more.

Don Charlwood - RIP

Don Charlwood was, first and foremost, a writer.  He will always be remembered by generations of Australians for his between-the-wars Australian childhood classic All The Green Year (recently republished this year).  This book was a staple English class text for thousands of young Australians and became a favourite of many.  Charlwood spent much of his childhood in Frankston, Victoria, to the south-east of Melbourne (the setting for ATGY), and his ability to put his memories into a detailed and eloquent story earned him many fans.

If anything, All The Green Year is the perfect foil for Charlwood’s other well-known work – No Moon Tonight.  This story of his time training and flying as a navigator with No. 103 Squadron (on Halifaxes and Lancasters) remains highly-regarded as one of the most accurate and moving accounts of a Bomber Command crewman (and crew) at war.  If you want to know what it was really like flying in a bomber over Germany at night then this is one of the books you must read.  DC wrote NMT while working as an air-traffic controller (and, later, ATC trainer) in Australia post-war and one wonders if living and breathing aviation at the time was the catalyst for the book.  I doubt it would be hard for any veteran to drag up memories of the war but talking to aircraft as they tracked through his area must surely have brought the events of the previous decade flooding back.

NMT was Charlwood’s first book with ATGY being his best-selling.  They are two books that are poles apart in content but, really, the latter could be regarded as a ‘prequel’ to the former.  The children of AGTY who lived those halcyon days in Frankston – before the popular beachside holiday destination was swallowed by the incessant urban behemoth that is Melbourne – had a coming of age like no other in the form of the Great Depression and a world war.  Did the sacrifice Charlwood wrote about in NMT cause him to reflect further on the young lives cut short and the path they followed to their volunteering for Bomber Command (and, consequently, his path)?  Did he want to remind the world – a world that had since criticised the large-scale bombing of German cities - that the men who flew the bombers had had a childhood that was the polar opposite to the world in which they died … or have I made a connection that is not there?

Donald Earnest Cameron Charlwood died in June.  He was actively writing in his final year and continued to be published in newspapers.  His many books and articles have left a legacy that will ultimately dwarf his eight decade writing career.  To provide such an esteemed author and man with the tribute he deserves, the meanderings and somewhat misguided analysis above falls far short.  I will leave the ultimate tip of the hat to another respected author.  Regular ABR contributor Kristen Alexander is an author with a particular eye for the personal detail – an eye that looks beyond the operational and wartime life of a man and sees the family life, education and vocational aspects that moulded the man who went to war.  Here, she reviews Charlwood’s ‘other’ Bomber Command book, Journeys Into Night:

Many of you would have read Don Charlwood’s No Moon Tonight where, in a novelistic style, he tells of his experiences in Bomber Command. I consider that one of the best aviation books I’ve read. His 1991 book, Journeys into Night, is ‘up there’ in my ‘best ever’ list.

As with the earlier book, Journeys into Night is thoughtfully and lyrically written but this reflects the maturity of someone who is looking back on the distant past. Like No Moon Tonight it deals with the young Charlwood’s experiences in his bomber squadron but it also follows closely the experiences and fates of his training comrades and members of his crew.

Charlwood uses extracts from his own diaries as well as the writings of his companions, so the reader is continually experiencing shifting perceptions: the fresh experience; the mature reflection. There is a strong bittersweet sentiment running through the account and the reader is constantly reminded that many will not return—there is almost a sense of a ‘countdown’. For example, ‘Two lads who sleep near me failed to return this morning’, he wrote to his young lass, ‘I woke when the rest came in and heard the news. I saw their belongings still in their places…It all happens so quietly that one does not realise that they have been victims of war’.

Alongside the sadness, there is an occasional flash of that unmistakeable brand of Aussie humour and irreverence. Like the time, for instance, they encountered the Station Warrant Officer, a florid, elderly-looking man. He wore the ribbons of ‘14–‘18 and would oft declare that he didn’t believe in parachutes. Of course, the boys, knowing they may need to rely on theirs to save their lives, quickly realised he was a ‘wingless wonder’, and doubted he had ever been high enough to need one!

The humour was also poignantly apparent in times of danger, like when the MO was trying to convince them of the good sense of using oxygen during flight. The MO had an uphill battle as there was a degree of male braggadocio about this: real men could do with less oxygen, just as they could hold liquor better than the rest. It wasn’t until he provided them with a practical example of the effects of anoxia, that it sunk in:

"We were taken up to 28,000 feet, three of us with oxygen and three without. The three without all started well enough, but gradually became like drunks. Watching Harry work out simple division was excruciatingly funny…When his calculations reached the end of the page, Harry continued with supreme confidence down his trouser leg.

Then the MO asked Charlwood to feel his oxygen lead. Charlwood found it plugged in, but the Doc informed him he had actually been unconscious until Harry had connected him."

If you can get your hands on this, it is well worth a read. Tinged with sadness and the inevitability of death, yes, but full of the joy of mateship, and beautifully written. Highly recommended. 

The magic that is the Spitfire

The Spitfire is, quite simply, the most beautiful aircraft ever built.  It's all in the eye of the beholder of course but her lines and flying charateristics just seem to combine into something beyond the superlative (we won't talk about sounds as this is a book review site but Alex Henshaw had it right when he called his book Sigh For A Merlin).  I'm not the first to attempt to put my love for this aircraft into words and I am certainly not the last.  At the base of it all though is that the Spitfire, no matter how many heartstrings it tugs or lumps in the throat it causes, will always be a machine and, without the people who flew and worked on her, just a series of components assembled into a rather sublime form.  Share the lives of those people and the Spitfire herself comes alive as companion, defender, saviour, inspiration and, sadly, due to the time she was born into, final resting place.

The romance of the Spitfire is most certainly equalled by the achievements of the men who flew her in the RAF and Commonwealth air forces.  As I said above, much has been written on this subject and will continue to be written in the years to come particularly as new stories and material come to light.  A perfect example of this is the three books, pictured below, that have appeared on the Aircrew Book Review radar in the past couple of months.  All three fall under the Spitfire 'umbrella' but all three couldn't be more different from each other if they tried.

Spitfires Over Malta is a familiar title in this genre but this is the original.  Written during the war by two Pilot Officers - Australian Paul Brennan DFC DFM and New Zealander Ray Hesselyn DFM - the slim volume was about their experiences flying in defence of the island of Malta, the key to Allied survival in the North African and Mediterranean theatres.  That they had any energy to do so is astounding as surely the fighter pilots who defended Malta were involved in the most frenetic flying of the war for days on end.

While long out of print, SOM has remained popular with collectors, Maltaphiles and the like. Admittedly hamstrung by the censors of the time Brennan and Hesselyn still managed to portray their hectic day-to-day existence effectively.  Roll forward 70 years and through a lovely case of serendipity, whereby Paul Lovell discovered an original edition in a box at a trade stall after an airshow in Kent, we have a new and updated edition that preserves the 'immediate' nature of the pilots' words and combines them with additional research and material. In a sense we have the best of both worlds - the events as recorded and written by those who were there and the benefit of 70 years research drawn together to provide context and additional detail ... and there's a lot of it as the original 96-page edition has become a well-illustrated and referenced 350-page paperback.  New life has been breathed into an old classic.

On top of that there is the cover of which you can only see half below!

Birth Of The Black Panthers is, like SOM, a self-published title and evidence of the author's commitment to share a unique account with the world.  While resembling a squadron history it is really the memoirs of two men (names to be added - one a fitter, one a pilot) who served with this much-travelled unit.  Really it is a squadron history wrapped up in two wartime biographies.

Considering No. 152 (Hyderabad) Squadron flew throughout the war, and fought in three theatres, it is surprising that they are perhaps best-known for their operations against the Japanese.  Well, considering the decoration on their Spitfires at the time, it might not be that suprising!  The nice surprise for this book, however, is the history of the squadron as related by a fitter.  We're all very used to reading books by the pilots, or those who have interviewed the pilots, so to get a massive part of the story from someone who the pilots depended on is almost unique in this genre.  Beyond the 'rarity' of the subject matter (any other books on 152 out there?), this is worth the 'cost of admission' alone.

From a unit that flew throughout the war to a pilot who did the same.  Viking Spitfire is the story of Finn Thorsager.  The first Norwegian to open fire on the Germans during the 1940 invasion, Thorsager, like many of the pilots from Occupied Europe, managed to escape his country's invaders to join the RAF and, consequently, contribute to the eventual liberation of his homeland.  There is a lot more to Finn's story than just flying Spitfires though.  You will simply be amazed - Gladiators, Hurricanes, Spits and Lodestars to Sweden in 1944.

Published by Fonthill Media, and written with Spitfire and Norwegian fighter pilot afficianado Tor Idar Larsen, VS is an attractive hardback that builds on the reputation the publisher is developing for books of this type (incidentally, Fonthill have also released a European edition of Hamish Brown's Wine, Women And Song).  It, like SOM and BOTBP, is proof that the story of the Spitfire, and, more importantly, the lives intertwined with this magnificent aircraft, continues to be built on.  Something tells me that, despite what we know and what has been written, we still have a lot to discover.

Wellingtons Over The Med - Richard Stowers

Hi, remember me?  I'm the bloke who runs this site and has been MIA for a bit.  There's a lot happening in the book world relevant to Aircrew Book Review.  While I haven't had the chance to write anything of substance for the website I have briefly discussed some of the new titles on the new ABR Facebook page (as if I don't have enough to do).  One title I haven't mentioned though is one 'discovered' in mid-June by an author who has previously featured on ABR.

Richard Stowers is a prolific New Zealand author who has turned his hand to biographical works of Kiwi airmen of late.  His Bomber Barron and Cobber Kain titles were well-received and his latest, Wellingtons Over The Med follows the same expansive landscape paperback format.  This book is much closer to home, however, in that Richard writes about his Dad, Bob Stowers, and his time as a Wellington bomber pilot over North Africa and Italy.

This will be a most worthy addition to the greater 'Mediterranean Wellington bibliography' and will join the likes of the recent Bombers Over Sand And Snow by Alun Granfield, Kenny Ballyntyne's Another Dawn Another Dusk and the modern-day classic that is Hewer's In For A Penny, In For A Pound (not to mention the long-standing classic Out Of The Italian Night by Maurice Lihou among others).

The text of the press release provides all you need (assuming you need more!) to whet your appetitie.  The link to the WOTM listing is below and I note it is also available on Amazon.  Thanks to Dave Homewood for permission to use the cover photo below from the Wings Over New Zealand forum.

Wellingtons Over The Med

A Kiwi bomber pilot’s story from the Mediterranean

NZ415793 Flying Officer Robert Ernest Stowers DFM

Bob Stowers, at the age of just 21, was Wellington bomber pilot with 70 RAF Squadron in the Mediterranean theatre during 1943. While with the squadron Bob flew 42 operations against heavily defended ports, railways, airfields and troop concentrations in North Africa and Italy.

For his bravery and devotion to duty, Bob was awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal (DFM).

A full and accurate description is given of each operation, as well as airfield life in the North African desert.

Stuck in the desert with little to no contact with Britain, the airmen of Bob's squadron had to overcome the belief they were fighting a “forgotten war.” The lack of coverage the Mediterranean theatre received in British media, which included the BBC news and the London dailies – as opposed to what Bomber Command received – caused many of the crews to feel that they were in a backwater. Even today many historians consider the Mediterranean theatre a lesser campaign.

Wellingtons over the Med is authored by Bob Stowers' son Richard, of Hamilton, New Zealand. In his own words: “When I was a boy I found an old leather suitcase tucked in the rafters of the woolshed. It took me a while to realise the significance of the contents, but I established that my dad had been a bomber pilot in the war. To me he instantly became a real hero in a real war.

“No combat role in the war was easy. Dad witnessed death at 10,000 feet and on the ground. He knew the emotions of combat and the toll it took on the human soul. Like any other bomber pilot, he felt happiness and relief when he sighted his home airfield after returning from combat.

“Dad never talked much about his war experiences. There were bits here and there. But the war certainly defined him. Throughout his life he was known as a quiet, loving and modest man. Many believed he was a perfect gentleman. One would struggle to think he was once a bomber pilot.”

Recommendation for the Distinguished Flying Medal [with 70 RAF Squadron]:

“This N.C.O. has carried out a most successful tour of operations comprising 41 night sorties amounting to 250.35 hours flying during which time he continually displayed a most praiseworthy determination, cool courage and devotion to duty in the face of the enemy. During the Tunisian campaign, he carried out a number of highly successful attacks on the enemy’s heavily defended landing grounds and on the troops and transport concentrated in the battle area. During these attacks, often in adverse weather conditions, he showed great determination in seeking out, illuminating and bombing targets allotted to him. Throughout the Sicilian campaign which included attacks on the heavily defended ports of Messina, Palermo and Catania and during the blitzing of the Italian ports, railways communications and aerodromes, he showed the same undaunted spirit and cool courage, pressing home his attacks with great determination, no matter how stiff the opposition was from the enemy defences. From the very beginning of his tour, this N.C.O. has set a high standard and proved himself to be a steady and excellent operational Captain. I have no hesitation in recommending that his courage and devotion to duty be recognised by the award of the Distinguished Flying Medal (non-immediate).”

An attractive book with 144 landscape pages plus laminated soft cover (244mm x 210mm). The book has over 110 excellent photographs – most of them previously unpublished, plus two maps.

Into The Midst Of Things - Sir Richard Kingsland AO, CBE, DFC

I haven't had time to write my next review so, wanting to keep things ticking over, I invited Kristen Alexander - author of Clive Caldwell Air Ace and Jack Davenport Beaufighter Leader (and one half of Alexander Fax Booksellers) - to be a guest reviewer.  She happily obliged and has provided details of another book (after mention of Lost Without Trace below) recenlty published by the RAAF's Air Power Development Centre.  Enjoy.

The Royal Australian Air Force’s Office of Air Force History (OAFH) has a remarkable oral history program and has now produced a number of autobiographies under its auspices. The text of Into the Midst of Things derived from a series of interviews with Sir Richard and Lady Kingsland and was supplemented by Sir Richard’s records as well as a couple of extensive interviews conducted by the National Library of Australia. The raw material was then shaped into a captivating narrative by the RAAF Historian, Dr Chris Clark, and sensitively edited by Wing Commander Keith Brent, both ensuring that Sir Richard’s distinctive voice is not lost.

Sir Richard had long resisted a biography and one of the reasons he was happy to become part of the OAFH’s oral history program was simply because it was the RAAF who was asking. He acknowledges the important place the RAAF held in his life and wartime career and even as a launching pad to his post-war career. Even so, in his prologue, Sir Richard makes it clear that this account does not include the ‘complete “me” to be put out for public scrutiny’. Not because he has anything to hide, or because he has failed to recognise his weaknesses but because he did not necessarily want those failings ‘broadcast or highlighted for posterity’. And there the reader catches a first glimpse of Sir Richard’s sense of humour which makes reading this memoir-with-gaps such a delight. 

Sir Richard Kingsland, AO, CBE, DFC, (né Julius Allen ‘Dick’ Cohen) has a distinguished place in the history of the RAAF, Australian defence and public administration. His air force career took him from a Point Cook cadet in 1935 to Group Captain within ten years. He saw service with 10 Squadron, was awarded the DFC as a young flight lieutenant in 1940 following a dangerous operation in Vichy-controlled Morocco, took over command of 11 Squadron and was director of RAAF intelligence in the latter stages of the war. He was clearly marked for greater things in the post-war air force but transferred to the public service in 1948 and pursued a career in the Department of Civil Aviation, then Air, and then Defence. In 1963 he was head of his department and he remained in charge of two large organisations for the next 18 years.

I like a certain amount of biographical topping and tailing, but I usually stop reading memoirs when they delve too much into the post-war career. I didn’t stop with this one. I continued to be fascinated. Interestingly, Sir Richard offers no false modesty regarding his flying career (he was a good pilot and acknowledges this) but he was very reluctant to give himself credit for anything else. A perfect example of this is when he tells of his Point Cook classmates. He admits that he found himself ‘associated with a group of “giants”...It seemed to me that they were the best specimens selected from a large number of young people from around Australia who had already acquitted themselves in a variety of ways’. And some of those continued to acquit themselves well such as Colin Hannah, later Sir Colin, air marshal, Chief of the Air Staff and governor of Queensland and Hughie Edwards who was awarded the Victoria Cross. With the benefit of hindsight, Sir Richard could confidently acknowledge that he was one of those giants. He may not admit it, but his ‘giantness’ shines through his achievements.

As I raced through his memoir I mused that Sir Richard was a closet thriller writer: he would often signpost exciting things to come, even before he had finished telling of something equally interesting. But this foreshadowing directly relates to Sir Richard’s preference for starting a story in the middle, revealing the before and after as he goes along. And hence the title, Into the Midst of Things. But the title could equally have been As Luck Would Have It. Sir Richard’s life is full of turning point episodes where, if his luck had run out, things would have turned out very differently indeed. I won’t list the many examples (starting with what if the RAAF hadn’t accepted the cadet application from someone who did not have any burning ambition to fly!) you can read them yourself but, interestingly ‘luck’ is a major theme of this memoir ‘How Shorthand led to the Air Force’, ‘My Career Stocks got a Lucky Break’, and ‘Dicing with Death at the Flemington Track’ (the image of what might have been the end of his life or at least flying career is incorporated into the front cover design). He even crossed the Atlantic in the ‘lucky’ Bayano. It is a shame that ‘amazing’ has been so overworked these days because there is a great deal in Sir Richard’s life which amazes the reader.

Into the Midst of Things is ‘unputdownable’. It is well-written, fast-moving, very well edited and where you want good description it is there. I love reading about the joy of flight and how our pilots responded to the thrill of being in control of their aircraft. Sir Richard’s account of his first solo flight is pure magic and I could see his wide grin as I read it. Sir Richard may have wanted to hide some aspects of his personality but he clearly reveals himself to be a man of warmth, charm, great humour with a wonderful capacity to make and keep friends. Brief encounters as a young man would result in life-long friendships. And yet, the warmth is counterbalanced by a certain dispassion; Sir Richard does not dwell on the emotion of an incident. He ‘tells it like it is’. And perhaps this ability to set aside the emotion is a key to his success in public administration and people management.

I don’t think it is too much to state that Into the Midst of Things is one of the best air force memoirs I have read in a long time. It reveals the person, it recounts interesting stories from a very interesting flying career and, happily, it is well-produced and almost perfectly copyedited. I have two criticisms, however. OAFH obviously had access to Sir Richard’s personal photo albums, so I would have liked to have seen more photos. And, with a career that crossed the paths of so many other fliers and important people, I believe an index is essential. The price of the book is clearly subsidized so I think a little extra should be spent on these essentials. These minor criticisms aside, this is an enthralling must-have read for the aviation enthusiast and anyone else interested in Australian memoir. Highly recommended.

Vale Phil Davenport

An email from Stevie Davenport, publisher of her father's Hurrah For The Next Man, is always a good thing to receive and this one started off with a congratulations on the birth of our daughter so the standard was maintained. However, as I read on, I detected all was not right and when Stevie said she'd been travelling to northern New South Wales recently a feeling of dread immediately preceded the next sentence. Phil Davenport, accomplished sailor, pilot and father - the last of the three flying Davenport brothers - had passed away on March 12.

He was a remarkable man. His extraordinary 'weather eye' was brought to bear literally in the case of his sailing and Coastal Command work and figuratively as he surveyed the ways of the world and despaired at our continuing ability to wage war. Repeating what I said in the review, he was not one to suffer fools lightly and had an acute disdain for selfishness that caused harm to others. In later life, and I suspect throughout his many adventures, he was outspoken and prepared to protest against what he saw as great wrongs being passed down by governments. If there was anyone who should have been listened to it was Phil Davenport. 

His book Hurrah For The Next Man pulls no punches and his attitude to things is, at times, a little confronting and might perhaps even make the reader uncomfortable. He writes from the heart - admittedly through 60-plus years of hindsight - and gets to the point. That said, his experiences as a Sunderland pilot in particular are well-conveyed and make a valuable addition to our understanding of the role.

A man of strong character whose deft touch at the controls over and on the ocean belied a steely determination to get the job done. Rest in peace, Phil Davenport.

It's a girl!

Our daughter, Margaret May, was born on March 15. Everyone going well ... but reviews aren't happening for the time being obviously!

My father-in-law also kindly gave me a copy of Christobel Mattingley's Battle Order 204 which I've been grabbing short sessions with. Most enjoyable and one for all ages and all 'exposures' to Bomber Command.