13.12.2009, 05:28
The early months of 1937 were still exciting for a neophyte aviator like myself. Howard Hughes had set another record flying across America, a japanese aeroplane had landed in Croydon for the first time, and more soberly, the Spanish town of Guernica had been bombed ruthlessly by German aeroplanes. I always remember that newsreel I saw in the cinema at the end of Farthing Road in London. An American reporter stood in front of a camera and extolled the virtues of Germany. A strong ruler, the most forward thinking nation. I had misgivings of course. You heard stories of course, rumours of darker things and so forth.
By chance I heard that pilots were being hired by the Spanish to fight facist rebels. In my youthful enthusiasm to make a difference, I made enquiries, being told more than once to go away and earn a steady living. Out of obstinate ire, and no shortage of rebelliousness on my part, I persisted, and a gentleman of dubious background at the flying club put me in touch with the recruiters for the Fuerzas A
By chance I heard that pilots were being hired by the Spanish to fight facist rebels. In my youthful enthusiasm to make a difference, I made enquiries, being told more than once to go away and earn a steady living. Out of obstinate ire, and no shortage of rebelliousness on my part, I persisted, and a gentleman of dubious background at the flying club put me in touch with the recruiters for the Fuerzas A