Spitfire Sisters (2010) - full transcript

♪ Where have all the flowers gone?

I enjoyed every minute
of it, to tell you the truth.

And I'd go through
it all again, if I had to.

♪ A long time ago

♪ Where have all the flowers gone?

But I was lucky, really, to survive it
all, as so many of my friends didn't.

♪ When will they ever learn?

This is the story of the unsung
heroes of the Second World War,

female pilots whose exceptional skills
and bravery remain legendary even today.

♪ Long time passing ♪ Where
have all the young girls gone?

♪ Long time ago... ♪.



We shall defend our island,
whatever the cost may be.

We shall fight on beaches, landing grounds,

in fields, in streets,

and on the hills, we shall never surrender.

The Second World War remains
one of the most devastating events

in history, involving most
of the world's nations.

The cost to human life remains
one of the most tragic consequences.

♪ Long time ago... ♪

There were times of leadership,
times of immense suffering,

and times of exceptional
courage and bravery.

♪ Will they ever learn? ♪

Bravery on the ground,
at sea, and in the skies.

Bravery by men and bravery by women.

The women of Britain
refused to be left out.



There was more than
7 million women were

mobilised one way or
the other in the war effort.

Some 450,000 were in uniform.

More than half a million were
with the emergency services,

with civil defence.

One area in which
women played a major role.

Was within the Air Transport Auxiliary.

The ATA was a civilian
organisation set up in

1939 to assist the RAF
with ferrying planes,

thus relieving many
personnel for duty in the battle.

The role of the ferry
pilots was to move aircraft,

basically the new aircraft coming
out of the factories to the squadrons,

to replace aircraft which
had either been lost

in action or had had
some problem with them,

and they would replace those
aircraft as quickly as they were needed.

Usually each morning when
you arrived at Ferry Pool,

you would know exactly what
aircraft you were going to move

first thing that morning,
and then during the day

other aircraft would
be sent through to you,

or you would be told during that
day that you had to move other aircraft.

In late 1939, Pauline Gower, an experienced
pilot who worked for the Civil Air Guard,

was appointed the task of establishing
a women's section of the ATA.

She was the one who was
most effective in persuading

those in Whitehall that
women could do this job,

and she was very much the leader of
the introduction of women into ATA flying.

She was stationed at HQ, which was at
Whitewater, so one didn't see her too often,

but she was a splendid
person, terribly sweet and kind.

She did everything.

She managed to get women into the Air
Transport Auxiliary, and she just pursued this.

So we were flying everything.

We were flying all
these military aeroplanes,

which was absolutely wonderful.

Eight women were
initially invited to become

ferry pilots for the
ATA by Pauline Gower.

They were all established pilots
with many hours of flying experience.

One of these was Joan Hughes,

who at 17 was the youngest
female flyer in Great Britain.

Of course, there was a
hitch about the women.

There was quite a
strong feeling in Whitehall

that women should
never do this kind of job.

There were the King's regulations, which
stopped women taking part in combat in

any shape or form in
the three armed services,

and although in this case they wouldn't
be required to perform combat operations,

there was still a strong feeling that
women were not suitable for this task

and should never be employed in it.

The women from the Civil Air Guard, who'd
been flying side by side with the men,

had to fight to be allowed to get in too.

They weren't allowed in
until the summer of 1940,

and they were put on their own at
Luton near the de Havilland factory.

Because they thought they'd
only let them fly Tiger Moths,

but I suppose in the first few months
they proved themselves as just good flyers,

and by the time I got in, of
course, we were flying everything.

The editor of an aviation
magazine once stated,

"The menace is the woman who thinks that
she ought to be flying a high-speed bomber.

When she really has not the intelligence to
scrub the floor of a hospital properly.".

However, the first
eight ladies did prove

themselves capable
of becoming ferry pilots,

and as more pilots were needed,

more and more ladies were invited
to join the Air Transport Auxiliary.

I suppose I wanted to fly after I'd
been up with my brother at an air display,

and I thought, well, that would
be fun to do if there was a war.

And so when the opportunity
came up, I contacted him and said,

"Put my name forward," and he did,

and eventually they asked
me to come for an interview.

By then they'd run out of all
pilots with more flying than I'd done.

I'd only done four hours solo,
four-and-a-half hours solo,

but it was enough to start,
and it showed I could fly.

As the devastating effects of the
Battle of Britain became more apparent,

the demand for ferry pilots
was higher than ever before.

As a consequence, the Air Transport
Auxiliary began training people

who had never flown
before to become pilots.

Summer of 1943, I saw a news item that said

ATA, Air Transport Auxiliary,
had run out of qualified pilots

and were training ab
initio, training from scratch.

So I applied and was accepted.

It was the first time I'd really seen an
aeroplane except high up in the sky.

I didn't even drive a car, of course,
because 16½, I was too young to drive,

and in wartime there was no
petrol for teaching people to drive.

Both Joy and I applied,
and we got in together.

But I was free to do that
because I was a war widow.

My husband had just
been killed bombing Berlin,

and there was no prescription
in those days for women,

but one had to do
something for the war effort,

do something useful for the war.

My parents just had
the two daughters flying.

I had no brothers, and I expect they
thought, well, having daughters is OK.

And then we picked on just about one of
the most dangerous things to do in the war.

I think I must have been
about 18, 17 or 18 at the time.

And then the opportunity came when
I joined the forces, I joined the WAF.

And I stayed there until I
saw an advert, and it said,

"Wanted volunteers required to train
as pilots for air transport auxiliary,"

which I'd never heard of before, but it was
one of those things, and I just applied.

And I didn't think for a minute
that I would have been accepted

because I thought thousands
of people would have applied.

The ladies who joined the ATA
were not only from Great Britain,

but from around the world.

Ladies joined to help in the
battle from Canada, New Zealand,

South Africa, the USA, the
Netherlands, Poland and Chile.

I went to England at the
beginning in April of 1941

as a volunteer for the
Free French Air Force.

General de Gaulle made a
call on the 18th of June of 1940,

asking all the French people
to come to help him at England.

So I was one volunteer to go with him then.

Because the French Air
Force didn't have any women,

and a French pilot who knew
me, he wrote to me telling me

that there was an organisation
where they employed women for flying.

So I asked permission to the
French to go with the English,

and I was seconded to the ATA.

Training was most interesting
because it was concentrated

into a very short period of about three
months, and normally it would take a year.

Well, it was in about five to six stages.

You started out, most pilots were given
an extensive cross-country flying course

because we were going to fly
without radio, without any radio aids.

So our knowledge of cross-country
flying by direct was going to be good.

Our headquarters was at Whitewaltham,
but the training school was at Thame.

And so I reported to Thame,
and we had a nine-day

technical training
course, it was called.

I remember the first morning,
the engineer, ground man,

took about six of us out
to a small plane, you know,

lifted up the cowling
and said to all of us,

"Ask me questions about
anything you don't know."

Well, of course, I
could barely drive a car,

so I had absolutely no idea
what was under this metal cowling.

I went through a bit of training and
eventually found myself flying Harvards,

and from there to Hurricane and Spitfires,

which were very easy,
really, quite straightforward.

We had 12 hours in which to solo,

and if you didn't solo in 12
and a half hours or 12 hours,

you were just said, "Well, thank you
very much, we don't need you anymore."

There were about 16
different ferry Poles dotted

around the country
at different airfields.

Some were larger than others.

Some flew only one type of aircraft
or two or three types of aircraft.

We were cadets while we trained,

but once we were fully qualified to fly
single engines, we were third officers.

And I was posted to Hamble on
the south coast on the Hamble River,

which was near the
submarine factory at Eastleigh.

To start with, I was a cadet, and I
was stationed at Barton-in-the-Clay,

which was a grass airfield,
and was for initial training.

After that, I went to Hamble.

My last rank was first officer.

That mean that I could fly any kind of
airplane of one engine or two engines,

and I was stationed at Hamble.

For the most part, I was stationed at
number 15 ferry pole, which was at Hamble,

and my rank was first officer Mary Wilkins.

All aircraft by ATA
was organised from the

central ferry control at
Andover and Hampshire.

They would, during
the night, sort out which

aircraft had to be moved
from where and to where.

That would then be telephoned through to
the various ferry Poles around the country,

and by the time we arrived
first thing in the morning,

we would know which
aircraft we were going to

move and which aircraft
we would fly that day.

We were given our day's work, you see,
and then we knew where we had to go.

We also knew what airplane we had to fly,

so we had to grab our maps and
overnight kit and then go off in the Anson,

and they would take us
to where the airplane was.

We flew scores of
different types of airplanes,

everything from a
Tiger Moth to a Spitfire

to a Wellington bomber
to a Lancaster bomber.

Some of them even flew
flying boats, and quite often, the

aircraft they flew, they had
never clapped eyes on before.

That's what makes it really amazing.

They had training in a
twin-engine bomber, and then

they went and flew all the
other twin-engine bombers.

And anybody who knows
anything about flying is permanently

amazed by the achievements
of these men and women.

It was such a wonderful
job, you know, having

two or three different planes in
the same day, and all so different.

I flew, well, mostly
single-engine fighters, of course.

Spitfire, Hurricane,
Barracuda, Mustang, a lot of

training aircraft, you know,
the Moths, and Hellcat.

Oh, it was all so
delightful, flying airplanes.

I loved flying the fast and furious ones.

I also liked flying the bombers.

There were quite a few that I enjoyed, too.

Some very slow ones, where
you could sort of sit back

and look at the countryside,
was rather pleasant.

And then other very fast
ones, when you had to keep

your wits about you to
make sure where you were.

I was very fond of the
Tiger Moths, funnily enough.

And they used to save those
for me, actually, at Hamburg.

If there was one going,
I nearly always got it.

Unfortunately, they thought I liked
the other things as well, and I didn't.

Well, I was based up in
Scotland, and of course, most of the

aircraft that I flew then were
fleet air arm, like the Barracuda.

And I was called the Barracuda Queen.

They used to shout at
me, "Anette, the Barracuda"

"Inn," and I used to
love going up in it.

I had one that I did not like
flying, and that was a Walrus.

Which, oh, in the air, it was impossible.

It had a mind of its own, and no matter
what the pilot did, it would go its way.

And it was terrifying at
times, but eventually, I found

that it could be controlled,
and I flew several afterwards.

But for what all they say, it was the
Hurricane that won the Battle of Britain.

And I find a lot of us get cross, because
it doesn't always get the credit it should.

I flew the Hurricane, but nothing special.

It was just an ordinary aircraft,
as far as I was concerned.

The Spitfire was very special.

You just had to touch
it with your little finger,

and it would do exactly
what you wanted it to do.

Oh, no, the Spitfire
was a life unto its own.

It was just beautiful.

The ladies flew various
different types of planes,

and each had their
favourites and least favourites.

One plane that the ladies all
seemed to agree on was the Spitfire.

I was the first one to try a Spitfire
out in that field, one Sunday.

I mean, it's great drama.

Nobody else there, a
rather worried instructor, you

know, would we both
crash, but it was all right.

It's a lovely aeroplane, and I suppose they
thought if I could do it, any fool could.

So everybody flew it, and I
was passed out to fly the thing.

I looked forward to flying a Spitfire.

I wanted to fly a Spitfire, not because
they were so different from everything else,

but it was, everyone said,
"Have you flown a Spitfire?"

And so I thought, well, obviously,
it must be something I must do.

And eventually the day came when I'd flown
a Hurricane, and I'd flown the Harvard,

and now my chit was Spitfire.

The instructor would get
out of the last advanced

trainer, and he'd say, "Do
you want to try the Spit?"

And of course there was only room for one
person in a Spit, so you were on your own.

And I remember the
first Spit I took, gosh, it

felt as if somebody
kicked me in the rear end,

and the next thing I
knew I was at 1,000 feet.

It was different from
anything we'd ever flown.

It's very difficult to
describe flying a Spitfire.

Very small cockpit, very manoeuvrable, the
slightest touch on the stick and she moved.

It was the nearest
thing to flying yourself.

Everyone loved the Spitfire.

She was a little bit difficult to land
because she had a very narrow undercarriage.

And if you were on grass and you could
be landing exactly into wind, you know,

they were telling you to come
down into wind, it was fine.

But if you had to land on
the runway and it wasn't

exactly into wind, you
couldn't sort of wheel it in.

You had to try to three-point
it because it was more difficult.

I remember the instructor
just driving and telling me

to take the aircraft down
the runway and then stopped.

And there was a Spitfire beside
me and he just said, "Off you go."

And I said to Mimi, "What
do you mean, 'off I go'?"

He said, "This is the
aircraft, go into it and fly it off."

I knew the son of R.J.
Mitchell, Gordon Mitchell,

belonged to my local Spitfire Association,
and I told him it was a ladies' aeroplane.

And he said, "I don't
think Dad had that in mind

when he invented it,
Joy, when he designed it."

I managed to get up and then when
I was up I kept on saying to myself,

"How am I going to hell?
How am I going to get down?".

But it comes to those who
wait and I waited and I waited.

And eventually went and did my circuit.
We had a little circuit.

And eventually I landed.

And I couldn't get out of
the aircraft, I was so excited.

I wanted everybody
but, you know, everybody.

But there, eventually everybody
did know, if I told them often enough.

I felt like a queen, because the
Spitfire was a wonderful aircraft.

It was beautiful in the air,
not so much on the ground.

And as a matter of fact, for
women, everything was just right.

The cockpit and everything.

And the sensitivity of the
aircraft was also like a woman's.

I would call it a lady's
aircraft, of course it wasn't.

But there was never a plane designed
for a lady to fly better than the Spitfire.

It was just the most
wonderful plane to fly.

You could almost breathe on
the controls and they would move.

It was so light to the touch.

Coordination was what
you needed really to fly.

Those lighter planes, I'm
sure a little more muscle

is needed when they're
flying the big ones now.

But with the fighters
early in the war, that

was what was needed,
I think, a light touch.

I think that's why the
women had a very good

record for delivery, you
know, with no accidents.

The Spitfire is the
most beautiful airplane.

In the air it's absolutely
gorgeous, it really is.

It has no vices and it's
absolutely wonderful.

And it's a beautiful airplane and
it's so simple to operate in the air.

The ladies had some fantastic
times in these beautiful machines.

But not all ferry jobs
went exactly to plan.

The day that I broke the
Spit, I was blamed for it.

It was pilot error.

I'd been flying them for a long time too.

It wasn't that I didn't
know what I was doing.

I was just careless, I suppose.

If you know anything about flying,
every plane has a stalling speed.

Which means if you
let the speed go below

that, the plane just
falls out of your hands.

So you have to bring
it in at that speed at

least, or a little over,
in order to land it.

And then you can throttle back,
of course, and lose your speed.

Well, I came in and I
held off above the runway

by a couple of feet more
than necessary, I expect.

And it dropped.

And I burst the right tyre
and it skewed around a

bit and the end of the
wing scraped on the ground.

And of course, it would have
had to have been repaired after.

And the ambulance came out,
but I wasn't hurt, I just broke a nail.

I was very embarrassed
because some man I quite admired,

some pilot, was waiting there
to pick me up and take me home.

And I was so embarrassed, of all people,
to break a Spitfire in front of him.

At about Mark 12 or
14, they changed the old

Merlin to a much
stronger Griffin engine.

And the girls had warned me,
because it was my first of that type,

that they had a lot of torque,
a swing to the right on take-off.

Open up gently, very powerful
engine, and full left rudder.

I did everything I
was told, but I was still

making for the Southampton
Barrage balloons.

But it was just a second or
two that you get a bit frightened.

And the minute you get up into the
air stream, of course, the controls work.

And you get back on track again,
and that was one life I got away with.

I did have a little
incident in the Spitfire.

I took off and I couldn't get
the undercarriage right up.

And so I couldn't get any
green lights, and I had red lights.

And I didn't quite know what to
do, so I flew around and around

and tipped it up on every
angle I could possibly think of,

to try and get the undercarriage down.

But it wouldn't come down and it wouldn't
go up, so there was no alternative.

As you know, we had no ways
of telling people on the ground.

So I eventually decided I
must land, and I came in.

Fortunately, it was a grass
field, and I switched the engine

off just as I crossed over the
hedge and landed on the field.

And I bent the aeroplane a
little, but I didn't hurt myself.

I was very sad to think the
Spitfire was not as it should be.

I was taking a Spitfire out of
somewhere in Leicestershire,

and you always take off with the
canopy, the hood open, of course,

in case you have to
make a forced landing,

because take-off is the
most dangerous time.

And I put my hand up to shut
the hood, and it flew away.

So I felt the controls, and it hadn't
hit one of the ailerons or anything,

and just did a circuit and landed back.

And I got the feeling they
thought, "Oh, stupid woman."

But when they looked in the
logbook every aircraft carries,

it had said, "Canopy
trouble, canopy trouble."

It had had a lot of the hood trouble,

so they realised that I hadn't pulled
the wrong loop, that it was genuine.

Some of the ferry boards
were completely women pilots.

No men were based there at all.

So there was a lot of
experience, and some of

these women were
absolutely first-class pilots.

Or should I say they
were all first-class pilots.

There were only 165 women.

There were 700-odd men,
about 1,000 altogether in our outfit.

In those days, a place of women was rather
shaky, whether they were popular or not.

And I, quite frankly, didn't care.
I just wanted to fly.

I was flying a Wellington one day,
and I landed at the airfield, a taxi-din,

and then the ground crew
came out to pick me up.

There was this great big
Wellington beside me, and I said,

"Can we go, because I
have to get my chit signed?"

And they said, "No,
we're waiting for the pilot.".

And I said, "Oh, well, I am the pilot.".

And to my amazement,
they didn't believe me,

and they went and
searched the aeroplane.

They found no one.

When I joined ATA, I went
to Hatfield, where the small

group of the ATA women
retained there at that time.

And it was a lovely little
lady, Joan Hughes, one of

the most distinguished
lady pilots in this country.

She saw me into ATA,
gave me my test flight,

and then gave me a little bit of
polishing up of my flying technique,

and finally passed me through as
being acceptable for ATA ferrying.

But I did land on an American station once,

and the commander came out and
said I was the first lady pilot he'd met.

So he said, "I'm going to give you
something that you'll remember me by,"

and he gave me a silver dollar,
and I still have the silver dollar.

It's quite a nice memento.

I remember one plainly that I
delivered to a Polish squadron,

and it was a new Mark.

The marks went up to 16 on a spit.

And four or five of the
fellows from the squadron

were waiting out on the
tarmac when I pulled in

because they knew it was a new
plane, and they were anxious to see it.

They were expecting me.

They were a bit surprised
that a bond got out, but anyway.

It was rather nice, I thought, to deliver
it to the men who were anxious to have it.

Some of these remarkable ladies even
flew the very latest and fastest aircraft.

I did fly a jet.

I was one of two girls allocated
to fly jets, and I flew a Meteor.

I'd never seen one before,
but I was taken to the factory,

and then I asked the test pilot, "This is
different. What should I know about this?"

And he said, "Well, not anything
really, except watch the fuel Gauge

because it goes
from full to empty in 35

minutes, and make sure
you're on the ground."

[laughs]

So that was my instruction on a jet.

Hamble, where I went,
was an all-women's pool.

We had all women's, all
men's, some mixed pools.

We had Polish girls,
girls from South America,

and the restroom at Hamble,
where we were waiting to fly,

I feel now would make a
very good television program

because there were people playing bridge
in one corner, backgammon in another,

the Spanish people chattering together,
the Polish people chattering together.

And we all got very well together.

As far as I know, there
were never any problems

at all with a lot of
women working together.

The ladies worked long and demanding hours
during the war and rarely had time off.

But when they did,
they made the most of it.

I was thinking mostly some of
our most exciting times, of course.

We flew 12 days on, working
solidly, and then two days off.

And of course, every time we
got two days up, we'd go to London.

And I suppose this is why we got so
much attention, because of our uniforms,

which were a dark Navy with gold
wings and gold stripes on the shoulder.

And I had one American ask
me once, "Was I free French?"

Because they also had--I felt like
saying, "Neither free nor French.".

We had boyfriends all
over the place, and some

of them would say,
"Please wear your uniform."

And some would say,
"Don't wear your uniform.".

And when we got home,
we used to discuss this.

We never figured out
why they wanted us to

wear the uniform and
why they didn't want us.

I remember the family
I usually went to in

London and stayed--they
were on 66 Park Lane.

And the father would
call up when some of us

arrived for the weekend
to the American embassy

and say to them, "Could you
send over four of your men?"

And he'd take them out to dinner
and all the clubs, and they loved it.

They had a lovely time with us.

But of course in those days, it wasn't
when you say boyfriends or girlfriends,

it wasn't the way it is today.

My father used to wait
up for us to get home

from the movies when he
knew what time--I was 18.

And he still wanted to know
how long it took me to get

home from the theatre so
that he would wait up for us.

I mean, I didn't know which end
of a boy was which in those days.

It's so different from now.

We were all issued with the
first-class travel tickets on the train.

So if we were stuck out
anywhere, we couldn't

get back because of
bad weather or anything.

We were entitled to use a first-class
train service to take us home.

So we were always rather spoiled.

I would fly quite low sometimes because I
would see someone's house, which I knew,

and I'd go beat up, I think it was
called, which was rather naughty.

But it was fun, and it was quite safe.

So that was all right.

The ladies had many
great experiences during

the war, and they
certainly never got bored.

They would often find themselves
flying planes they had never flown before,

in which the only instructions they
got were from a set of ferry pilot notes.

Well, it was very exciting stepping
into a plane you hadn't flown before,

but really you just needed to know the
takeoff speed, landing speed, stalling speed.

And I guess it's equivalent to stepping
into a car you haven't driven before.

It's not all that different.

It was only you in the
plane who didn't feel

you had anyone else
to be responsible for.

So yes, I suppose a little
nerve-wracking at first, but we were young.

Nothing fazed us.

Rather like youngsters today,
bungee jump or do all sorts of things.

I used to frighten myself
silly sometimes by not knowing

quite where I was and
hoping things would come up.

I'd sort of prepared the flight before
I left, so I knew what to look out for,

and eventually the landmarks would come
out, provided I flew on a steady course.

Oh, of course I got lost.

You would land then on an aerodrome
because you could see it on the map,

and you would land there,
but you never admitted

you were lost, because
nobody would tell you that.

So what you used to do is go in
and have a look at the notice board,

and you'd look where the buses came
from, and the local buses would tell you.

And you'd look at your map and
you'd see where the town was,

and then you would
say, "That's where I am.".

When the commander asked
me, "Where are you, Chile?"

I'd say, "In Enfield.".

And he'd say, "Where? In Enfield?"

"No, in Enfield." "Enfield, yes.".

"But where? Enfield?" "No, Enfield."

I had landed in my first cross country.

I got lost because the
hatch was close to London.

The weather was bad, it was
February, and it was snowing.

It was snowing all over the place.

And the first time I got lost,
I was doing a cross country,

and I think the instructor
got a bit too carried away.

And I would have said no.

And then I got lost, and I got to London,

between the London's water
balloons, which were very stupid.

When I realised I was
in the middle of London,

I took a balloon and started
looking at what I was seeing.

But I don't know how I got to the middle
of London without hitting any balloons.

And at the end, I didn't have any gas,

I saw a small dumpster, and I
got on the emergency landing.

I broke the plane, but
I didn't break myself.

I think if you went into bad weather, that
was really... And that was your own fault,

because nobody could have persuaded
you that you went in on your own.

And they wouldn't have
said anything if you had

landed and just said, "I
couldn't go any further."

The weather had closed in.

They wouldn't accuse you
of any failure or anything.

They were really very good to
us, and gave us a lot of leeway.

Many Air Force people
say they can't understand

why they didn't give us some
basic instrument rating training.

But I feel it was a matter
of a little knowledge is

a dangerous thing if
they couldn't train us fully.

And I always cite the instance of Amy
Johnson, who was an experienced pilot,

and she took off from
Squires Gate near Blackpool,

probably in weather that some
of us would not have taken off in.

Got away above 10/10th
cloud, couldn't come down,

ran out of petrol, was hopelessly
lost over the Thames estuary,

and had to bail out, ran out of petrol.

She was seen by a
little naval coastal vessel,

saw the Oxford aircraft come
down first, then the parachute,

and someone dived over and got hold of her,

but it was January, and I
believe he was suffering

from hypothermia, and
Amy's body was never found.

And that's an instance
of how perhaps had

they given us some
instrument rating training,

we might have taken risks
that they didn't want us to take.

I realised the first time I got in the
cloud and had to come out again,

I didn't really know how to do it,
and I thought, well, this is stupid.

You know, I'm sure to get in the cloud,

and so I'd better learn
to fly blind, which I did.

And I used to practise
probably quite illegally,

sitting in my plane with
everything shut down

and flying on the instruments.

There was one time when we all got...
We hadn't flown for days.

It was in the summer,
and we got priority aircraft,

and I remember everybody was
sent out very late in the afternoon

to try and clear the lot,

and there was low cloud
coming in and all sorts of things,

and I thought I'd follow the railway
line, which normally I never did,

and I was going up to Bryce Norton,

and I thought, well, pick it
up at Devices and go round,

and, well, I got to Wootten Basset
that we heard so much about.

I saw the church really too
closely, and Lynham was above me,

so I thought, well, the time
has come to do something,

so I climbed up and went into Lynham,
and everybody was on the circuit.

We were surprised.
Aircraft had come from every direction.

We were all getting into land.

The funny part was it cleared.

There was a co-front clearance
shortly after that, a beautiful evening.

But I remember one
of the instructors said to

me one time, "Do you
want to fly backwards?"

And I said, "How do you mean, backwards?"

And he said, "I'll take you
up in the Tiger Moth, and the

wind is so strong," he said,
"we'll be flying backwards.".

And right enough, when I went
up in the Tiger Moth with him,

the wind was so strong coming
forward, because we went into wind,

we actually went backwards.

But it was...

It wasn't something I
really wanted to do again.

People have asked if it was dangerous.

I mean, everything in the war,
everything somebody did was dangerous.

The barrage balloons scared me,
because they had chains hanging from them,

and if you hadn't memorised
the routes through in the morning

before you took off, if you
suddenly came upon them, you know,

you'd have to go around, because you
wouldn't know how to get through them.

I suppose you know where the balloons are?

Well, we did, actually, yesterday.

So long as they put no new ones up.

Good, that's fine. Would you sign here?

I didn't ever feel afraid, I must admit.

I never felt afraid.

I must say, sometimes when I was up in
the air, flying around during the circuit,

and I would look down and I
would see where I had to land,

sometimes I'd say, "Oh, God,
how am I going to get down there?".

I was flying over the New Forest,

and suddenly there was
no noise, and the engine

had stopped, and I knew
I couldn't stay up there,

so I had to look around to
see quickly where I could land,

and I saw a little field, and then I
did all the manoeuvres necessary

to land the aircraft in
this little field, which I did.

That was all right, and
then I had to be rescued

myself because the cows
and horses came round

and said they wanted to know
what on earth was going on.

Some of the most amusing
things that happened to me

was I was flying over ... Brizard.

I can never pronounce that right.
... Brizard.

And I smelt this thing, and I thought,

"Oh, that must be the
lavender coming from the hills."

So I opened the canopy,
and right enough to smell,

they'd get a bit stronger,
until I looked down,

and the hydraulic fluid
had burst all over my feet.

And what I was smelling was the
hydraulic fluid all around my feet.

Now, I had no accidents
except at one minor

incident when I had a
tyre burst on take-off,

and the undercarriage was pulled
off, and the aircraft pretty well wrecked

until eventually it came to a stop, and I
was able to get out with everybody else

because we were fully loaded with
about 12 people on board the Anthon.

And we all crept out, and
we all seemed all right.

The next day we realised
we were covered in bruises,

but otherwise we were perfectly
all right and went on flying.

I was flying in some bad weather one day,
and I think I strayed a little off course,

and suddenly I saw
puffs of smoke around me,

and I thought, "Oh, my
goodness, I'm being shot at."

And I thought, "I'd better turn
around and get out of here.".

So I did a 180, and off I went,
and I didn't hear any more about it.

But I think it was the
ground crew, they mistook

the aeroplane because I
was going the wrong way.

The British were shooting at us, both
the anti-aircraft guns and the ships,

because there were areas
that were totally forbidden to

fly over, and in bad weather
you could fly over them.

So they were shooting at us.

But I have a friend who
flew right into the 1st and 4th,

and sat on the bottom of the 1st
and 4th before she opened the canopy,

and the bubble of air in the
canopy took her up to the surface.

And funny enough, my
husband was on board a ship,

and one of his cabin boys was
on the ship that rescued this lady,

and they didn't see the aircraft go in.

And they thought when
they saw this in the sea,

they thought it was a
dolphin or a seal or something.

But she never flew again.

That was her flight.

Forever.

173 were killed flying with ATA.

Sometimes it was due to weather conditions,

sometimes it would be because it
was an aircraft they'd never flown before.

There were always these
difficulties of picking up an aircraft

you'd never seen before, let alone flown.

Oh, I knew one boy
very well who was killed.

He ended up--I think he was in bad weather,

and he flew into a hill and killed himself.

One of my best friends
was killed, unfortunately.

The CO would come and tell
us there has been an accident.

Unfortunately, it was a fatal accident.

And so I hope you will understand.

And have tomorrow off.

Don't come in to fly
after that, or we will.

I lost a very dear friend, a
man who was training with us,

and he flew into a shag
heap on the mother well.

The coal mines all had these
shag heaps, and he flew into that.

I lost a lot of friends,
but not just any friends.

But the only one who was
really my friend was Bridget Hill,

who was killed as a
passenger in a Ferchel taxi.

Well, you couldn't stop and
mourn them in the middle of the war.

You were much too busy
getting on with things.

It was after the war that I felt sad,

thought of all the people I
should have been celebrating

with that weren't there
anymore, like Rachel,

and I was crying for her
children because they are not.

Couldn't forget it.

You kept thinking of us all
the time when you were flying.

And then when you did come down to earth,
you sort of think of them all the time.

That was a very sad time.

But I was lucky, really, to survive it all,

as so many of my friends didn't.

It's sad but inevitable that there are so
few lady members of ATA surviving today.

On the 70th anniversary of
the start of the Battle of Britain,

the ATA were commemorated at Hamble
for the work they did in World War II.

The monument of a
Spitfire was unveiled to them

in honour of each and
every one of the ATA's work.

Hooray!

This is rather a wonderful day, isn't it?

It's lovely to see, and I
recognise some of the

people who flew with
me, so that was lovely.

It takes back memories.

But it was a wonderful
time to be young and alive,

I can tell you that, and
we had a wonderful life.

Beautifully organised, and a great
tribute to the ATA, of which we are part.

And a lovely Spitfire.

What a beautiful model.

Really very lucky.

DRUMMING.

All women played their role
during the war in one way or another,

and this is why we thought
they should be remembered

and they should be recognised
for what they did at that period.

The ladies were first recognised
for the work they did in World War II

with the Monument for Women in
World War II, now situated in Whitehall.

The monument was
unveiled by the Queen in 2005.

It was important because I want it to
be there for generations of our nation.

Whitehall, Westminster, is flooded daily

with visitors from this country
and from countries overseas,

and I wanted them to see
that we have a monument

recognising and paying tribute
to our mothers, our grandmothers,

who made sacrifices during World War II.

It was hugely important to me

that we have something recognising
the role of women at that time.

The ATA were first
recognised as an organisation

in 2008 with a trip
to 10 Downing Street.

We were invited by the Prime
Minister to 10 Downing Street.

Where we were entertained and given a
medal for our achievements during the war.

Unfortunately, it came rather late
because so many people had passed away.

And they were the people that
really should have had the medals,

but the few of us that were left
accepted these with gratitude.

During the war, the ATA flew 415,000 hours

and delivered over
308,000 aircraft of 130 types.

As Lord Beaverbrook
stated at the ATA closing

ceremony, "They were
soldiers fighting in a struggle

"just as completely as if they had
been engaged on the battlefront.".

The ATA were fundamental
to the operation of the RAF

during the Second World War,

and the inclusion of women

undoubtedly paved the way
for women in aviation today.

They prove themselves as proficient pilots
who are claimed to be the first ladies

to be treated and paid the
same as men in the same role.

For women to do what they are now
doing now in all three flying services,

they are flying operational duties
exactly in the same way as the men.

And I expect that that
could have been made easier

by the example shown by the
ATA women of World War II.

It's funny, but once you've flown,

it's a driving thing with you,
you know, to get up again.

The last time I flew to
Tiger Moth was 2008.

I was given a present of a flight,

and when I went up there, it
was a tiger moth, and it was lovely.

I got into the tiger moth, and I
was flying around with the instructor,

and I asked him if I
could fly the aircraft,

and he said, "Me, you've been
flying it for the last half hour,".

And I hadn't realised it.

So it only goes to show that
it's just like riding a bicycle.

You never lose it.

Wonderful women who did so much in that war
effort, took their life into their hands.

To risk, they risked
everything for this country.

Inspirational yet modest ladies.

In their eyes, they were just
doing their bit for the war effort.

The unsung heroes of the Second World War,

they are the Spitfire Sisters.