By Fiona Walker
LAST month, we attended a talk by Colin Bell. You may have heard of him: the 102-year-old was recently the subject of the Saturday Interview.
For a moment, just a moment, try putting yourself in his shoes.
In 1940, Colin was walking through London to meet a young lady, when a German plane flew over the City and dropped an incendiary close by, causing destruction and terror. The 19-year-old took offence at this, and promptly signed up to join the RAF in the hope of inflicting similar damage on the pilot’s own country.
He trained in the United States, became an instructor and, in 1943, joined 608 Squadron (Pathfinder Group), flying a twin-engine Mosquito bomber. He carried out 50 raids, 13 of them over Berlin.
Colin recalled his wartime experiences nonchalantly and with good humour. There aren’t many people left who can give a first-hand account of those dark years, when every mission was fraught with danger and the chances of returning home in one piece were low, while the likelihood of not returning at all were frighteningly high. In fact, as he pointed out, there was a 25% chance of survival over 30 raids. Personally, I can’t imagine the emotions and thoughts that must have gone through the minds of those young pilots each time they took off from their airfields.
As Colin reminded his audience, the aims of the Nazis were to exterminate the old, the weak and the very young, to sterilise men not of German origin and to create a master race, using other nations as slaves. To combat those ideals was his enduring motivation.
He talked of the perils of anti-aircraft fire, the glare of searchlights, shells exploding in the night sky and of returning home to find the fuselage riven with bullet holes and his parachute shredded. And still he climbed back into the cockpit for another mission whenever called upon to do so. What confidence he had in that plane!
Colin Bell and his navigator were almost shot down on their penultimate raid on Berlin, the most heavily defended city in Germany and the most dangerous to approach. They had flown this route 11 times before; they knew the risks and would have seen numerous of their colleagues fly a one-way trip to the German capital. What determination it must have taken to put aside their fears, pull on their flying suits and take to the air! There were no guns on the Mosquito, an aeroplane relying on speed for its defence, and when targeted by an enemy fighter, Colin’s only recourse was to shake off his pursuer. He tipped the aircraft on its wing and dropped to 10,000 feet, but still his hunter followed, aping his manoeuvres while rapidly closing the gap between the two enemy craft. It wasn’t until the British pilot dropped dangerously close to ground level that he was finally able to shake off the other aeroplane, which lacked the capabilities of the nimble, timber-built Mosquito. Through skill, experience and the capabilities of that amazing plane, he and his navigator lived to fight another day. Their final raid on Berlin was just two months before the end of the war, at which point, he remembers, it appeared that the whole city was ablaze.
Flight Lieutenant Colin Bell and his navigator both made it through the war, but 55,500 crew of Bomber Command lost their lives in defence of their country.
So how have we come, in 80 years, from that generation to this? From courage and selflessness to meaningless celebrity, self-promotion and egocentricity?
Over the past couple of weeks, the media has been jam-packed with stories about Philip Scofield’s private life. Perhaps it is time to take a long, hard look at exactly whom we choose to put on pedestals and why.
Footballers, singers and actors are paid eye-watering sums of money to perform tasks that – in the greater scheme of things – are hardly critical, as we continue to revere people for meaningless talents that don’t begin to compare with the skills and bravery of those who defended our country 80 years ago.
So let’s hear it instead for the firefighters, the medics, the military and all who step forward and put themselves in the firing line whenever necessary.
And as we worry about rising prices, empty shelves and spiralling interest rates, we should remember the generation that produced the likes of Captain Tom and Flight Lieutenant Bell, because it is thanks to their selflessness that the threats we face today are not, instead, to our civilisation or our very existence.
