Fighter pilot’s story

Press, 26 December 1987, Page 19

Fighter pilot’s story

Hurricane Combat: The Nine Lives of a Fighter Pilot. By Wing Commander K. W. Mackenzie. William Kimber Benton Ross, 1987. 190 pp. $49.95. (Reviewed by Vincent Orange) Ken Mackenzie was a “Hurricane Combat” pilot for just one year, from October, 1940, until the end of September, 1941, when he was shot down near Lannion airfield in Brittany and captured. During that time, in nearly 300 hours of operational flying, he claimed the destruction of 14 German aircraft (including four shared with other pilots) and damaged four more. Although losing seven of his “Lives” in action or accidents, he greatly enjoyed that year, for he proved to be an excellent pilot, a brave and skilful killer in a just war, and fairly earned the award of the Distinguished Flying Cross. He made friendships of an intensity rare in peacetime and also enjoyed buying, selling, tinkering with and racing exotic sports cars. Mr Mackenzie has written an interesting account of his days learning to fly as well as his combats and patrols. The majority of such accounts by R.A.F. fighter pilots concern Spitfire operations in daylight, so this author’s experience as a Hurricane pilot flying and fighting in darkness makes a welcome change. Even so, many readers may find this book becomes more gripping once Mr Mackenzie’s combat career ends, because he then spent three years as a prisoner of war in Germany. There he met “the most fantastic collection of men imaginable ... from barristers to crooks.” Their contribution to camp life, the escape and intelligence organisations, entertainment and general affairs “would be the subject of a book in itself.” It is a pity that

more is not made of them here. For example, he recalls some Indian prisoners: “On parades they were always the smartest and we marvelled at the way they maintained their clothes. They were a welldecorated lot from the First World War and when invited to take tea with them, it always began with a silent toast ‘To the King Emperor,’ most impressive, with all standing to attention.” Later, Mr Mackenzie was taken on a long train journey. At one station, German troops returning from the Eastern Front offered him cigarettes and chocolate, talking to him in English until Nazi Party officials — not their own officers — chased them away. His journey was to a hospital, staffed by German and British doctors, where he was operated on by an eminent London surgeon (captured in France) for a knee injury suffered while playing rugby. The operation, although a success, enabled Mr Mackenzie to pretend that he was virtually crippled and get himself repatriated to England in October, 1944, where he spent the rest of the war as a flying instructor and, incidentally, played rugby with great enthusiasm. As he says, “War is a stupid business to be sure!” After the war, Mr Mackenzie remained in the R.A.F., serving in many long-lost outposts of empire, in the Middle East and Africa, until 1967. He then spent three years as Deputy Commander of the Zambian Air Force. He has since had experience of civil aviation in Kenya and now lives in Cyprus. I finished this lightweight account with a strong wish that his publishers had pressed him to dig much deeper into his unusual memories.