This is a classic 'boys own' adventure story of a hero of the Battle of Britain, first published in 1954. It's the story of Douglas Bader - cricketer, rugby champion and larrikin hero. In wartime he became a fighter ace, credited with around 30 victories over the Luftwaffe. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Order (DSO) and the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) for "an act or acts of valour, courage or devotion to duty whilst flying in active operations against the enemy". Shot down over occupied France, he served the last years of the war in Nazi prison camps, distinguishing himself with so many escape attempts that he ended up in the notorious Colditz Castle - where the Germans put their most hardened POWs. Oh, and did I mention he had no legs?
That is the most extraordinary thing for me about this biography, penned by Australian journalist and veteran, Paul Brickhill - also known for writing 'The Great Escape' and 'The Dam Busters'. It is what Brickhill called his 'fanatical tenacity', his refusal to yield to overwhelmingly difficult circumstances. At times considered rigid and foolhardy, his men admired him for the aura of will-power and self-confidence that surrounded him. He just never gave up and proved his worth time and time again in the face of overwhelming odds. This quality in itself makes this a worthwhile book to read.
But the book is also an artefact of early 20th century British culture. It harks back to Bader's adolescence as a time when playing 'rugger' for England was the summit of ambition. It was a time when men were men and the most appalling circumstances were greeted with stoic dry humour. For example, when he crashed his plane in 1931 (the accident which led to him losing his legs), everyone rushed across the aerodrome to try and pull him from the wreck. One of the first men on the scene was a steward from the officer's club, bearing a bottle and glass on a tray. The steward's first words to Bader (blood everywhere, legs crushed beneath him, close to death), 'Here you are sir, have a bit of this brandy.' Or when he woke in hospital days later, the doctor nonchalantly remarked, 'I'm sorry old chap, but I'm afraid we've had to take off your right leg'. But as Brickhill says, he was 'too practical for self-pity' and simply got on with making the most of his situation.
So, even though the tenor of the book may be in some ways out of step with today's readers, it is still a fascinating account of an impressive individual. A book which I would consider a classic, and essential reading for anyone interested in World War Two military aviation.