The Great World War 1914–1945: 1. Lightning Strikes Twice. John Bourne

playing the violin.

      In contrast to Ball and others, ‘Mick’ Mannock believed in teamwork, often ‘setting up’ kills for new pilots to give them confidence. Boelcke and Immelmann formulated their tactics together, and experience in the Second World War demonstrated the importance of fighting as a pair. The trust between pilots was important, since it was comforting to know that there was someone watching out for attack by the enemy. The nature of air combat demanded qualities that were apart from those required in other forms of fighting. Hugh Dundas noted this after his first combat in 1940:

      ‘From the leading Messerschmitt came thin trails of grey smoke as the pilot fired his guns. The group faded into specks which, in an instant, disappeared beneath the thick black smoke cloud rising from Dunkirk…

      Perhaps this little cameo lasted before my eyes for about five seconds; it was a lightning personal introduction to the use of guns in earnest and to the terrifying quality of air fighting. But I did not at that time have so much as one second to reflect upon it, for I was suddenly aware that the formation in which I was flying… was breaking up in violent manoeuvre.’³⁹

      This marked the start of Dundas’s first ‘dog-fight’. He found it a terrifying and confusing affair:

      ‘…when, at last, I felt it safe to straighten out, I was amazed to find that the sky which only moments before had been full of whirling, firing fighters was now empty. It was my first experience of this curious phenomenon, which continually amazed all fighter pilots. At one moment it was all you could do to avoid collision… the next moment you were on your own.’⁴⁰

      The rapid nature of air combat – which could be made all the more sudden by a surprise attack from the enemy – was not the only confusing matter for pilots. In both World Wars, the fighter pilot could return from a particularly arduous mission feeling lucky to have survived, then find himself going out for a pleasant evening’s relaxation before having to face the prospect of being heavily engaged the following morning. This imposed great levels of stress upon pilots, particularly for the Germans with their policy of not rotating men to training units. Unlike many other combatants, fighter pilots faced dramatic contrasts in their living conditions day after day. Coupled with the physical stresses of air fighting, this meant that even the most experienced pilots became heavily fatigued. Hugh Dundas, after scoring his first victory, noted a worrying ‘inner voice’ that urged him not to take risks. Although he heard this voice regularly, he was able to ignore it–to the extent of becoming a willing wingman to the aggressive Douglas Bader – until he approached the end of his tour. By mid-1941, he was in need of a rest, but:

      ‘It did not occur to me to ask for a rest. Bader’s influence had taught me that this was not an acceptable course. Indeed, I felt more strongly than ever that I must stick with the Squadron, continuing to fight… and helping to pass on to the new pilots the experience and knowledge I had gained…

      At the same time, I subconsciously shrank from battle. The instinct for survival, the inner urge to rest on my laurels, was very strong. I know there were a couple of occasions when I shirked from the clash of combat at the critical moment. Looking back on it later, I recognised that this was a time of extreme danger for me and also to some extent for the men I was leading. It was the stage of fatigue when many experienced fighter pilots have fallen as a result of misjudgement or a momentary holding back from combat.’⁴¹

      Fatigue and misjudgement applied to all fighter pilots, and could not be avoided by the end of a tour of operations. For the Luftwaffe this meant either death or wounds that prevented flying, which was hardly the best fashion in which to husband experience. By the time of their deaths in action, both Albert Ball and Georges Guynemer were displaying signs of fatigue that may have contributed to their loss. Fatigue could affect pilots in other ways too – Philip Fullard fought with considerable aggression until November 1917, when he was injured in a football match at his aerodrome. Fullard informed Peter Liddle that he did not suffer from stress or nerves, but after his enforced removal from the front, his efforts to repress this caught up with him, and his nerves gave way, preventing him from returning to light duties until September 1918.⁴²

      It is clear that the personal qualities of fighter pilots were important. Although recruiting officers could never be sure, they attempted – usually successfully – to find men who could ignore or suppress their anxieties for considerable periods. The ability to be both introverted and personable suggests that perhaps the pilots were able to compartmentalise aspects of their lives, ensuring that they could cope with the stresses imposed upon them. Although individualism was important, it is worth noting that most memoirs by fighter pilots stress the importance to them of at least one other colleague, often their wingman. This was rarely so great as to cause breakdowns if that close friend was lost, and again suggests an ability to maintain professional detachment to a greater degree than others. This mix of individualism and teamwork was vitally important, along with the third major quality of aggression. In 1917, Trenchard noted:

      ‘The battle in the air can only be won by taking the offensive and persevering in it… victory over [enemy] low-flying aircraft [will come] through offensive superiority [emphasis in original]… The aeroplane is a weapon that has no exact counterpart… but the principles which guide it in warfare, in order for it to be successful, are those which guide all other arms in all other elements of warfare, and the most important of these is the will and power to attack the enemy, to force him to fight, and to defeat him.’⁴³

      To do this an air force required pilots who were prepared to take risks and to operate in an offensive manner. The canard ‘the best form of defence is attack’ was expected to be an unconscious part of a fighter pilot’s character. This applied across national boundaries in both World Wars; fighter pilots were required to be aggressive to be successful – and that success might be measured on occasion by whether they lived or died. Aggression could, and did, bring casualties when applied recklessly. Pilots also needed to judge when to be aggressive and when not to be. There was little room for men who were unable to think quickly and press home the advantage when they had it. This did not preclude some degree of fellow-feeling for enemy pilots. Most preferred it when the pilot of an aircraft they destroyed escaped alive. Arthur Rhys-Davids, the conqueror of Werner Voss, was heard to express his dismay that he was unable to have brought him down alive. Mannock, on the other hand, was a notable exception to the vague bonds of comradeship that fighter pilots had towards one another, and was not the only one. Pilots with these sentiments tended to be exceptions: even though the Vietnam war ‘ace’ Randall Cunningham argued that it was better to go into battle with some ‘hate in your heart’, this did not extend in either war to attacking a defeated opponent on the ground or in a parachute. Although this did happen, pilots from both sides on the Western front (in both wars) generally regarded such actions as unacceptable.

      Whether an ‘ace’ or simply a regular squadron flyer, the fighter pilot has always been slightly apart from other warriors. Aggression, teamwork, popular recognition and adulation combined with danger, fear and the random nature of simple fate to make the fighter pilot’s task demanding and different. Whether German, American or British, whether fighting in the First or Second World War, or whether flying a Fokker Triplane or Supermarine Spitfire, the fighter pilot’s experience was remarkably similar. The nature of their task made it so.

      Notes on contributors

      Dr David Jordan, Joint Services Command and Staff College, Bracknell, UK

      Dr Jordan is a Lecturer at King’s College London, based at the Joint Services Command and Staff College. He was educated at St Edmund Hall, Oxford, and the University of Birmingham, where he took his doctorate. He specialises in air power and international relations and is currently writing a book on the development of tactical air power in the First World War.

      Recommended reading

      Gould Lee, Arthur, No Parachute: A Fighter Pilot in World War I (London: Jarrolds, 1969)

      Lewis, Cecil, Sagittarius Rising (London: Greenhill Books, 1993 (1936))

      Liddle,