Random reminder

Press, 11 September 1985, Page 22

Random reminder

SHOT DOWN IN FLAMES

The film, “Battle of Britain,” keeps springing up as a hardy perennial with two or three re-screenings a year. Whenever it surfaces it reminds a certain middle-aged man of the perfect squelch delivered under perfect conditions. Specialists, purists and perfectionists have their places, especially in hospital operating theatres and railway signalling boxes. It’s the other sort that grates . . . the fanatical devotee, often linked to a narrow esoteric field, who is fond of imposing his knowledge, willy-nilly, on all within earshot. This particular brand of hair-splitting reaches — to the noninvolved — farcical limits in hobbyist magazine correspondence. It’s possible to read endless arguments on the camouflage markings of World War I German aeroplanes. Something like: was a lozenge pattern ever used on Pfalz D XIIs, and, if so, was a deep lilac ever incorporated in it? Obviously some people are keen to know that the Bulgarians used a strip of green paint along wing trailing edges to differentiate their machines from German ones. It was someone of this mentality who

was once seated in front of the middleaged man at an early screening of “Battle of Britain.” Two rows in front, a young man with a penetrative flute-like voice was in high form as he regaled his girlfriend with his knowledge. “Oh, they’re not really Heinkel He 111 H-165,” he said, “they’re ring-ins from the Spanish Air Force. And to add insult to injury they’re fitted with Rolls-Royce Merlin 500 s. See the different engine nacelles? Oh, everything's wrong.” Later, no one really wanted to be told that wing mounted cannon of Messerschmitt 109 s were Hispano 804 s. But blessed relief was not too far away. A figure behind the garrulous one was moved to action. A tap on the shoulder halted the flood of information as a decidedly rough Kiwi voice inquired none too gently: “Tell me, mate, are you in the air force?” "As a matter of fact I am,” came the reply. There was even a hint of gratification of the forced divulgence of such high status. "Then thank God,” came the comment in robust Kiwi. "Thank God I was a bloody anti-aircrafb' gunner.” “