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Battle of Britain pilot dies, aged 99.
- Thread starter the_worrier
- Start date
Soldato
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No the oldest survivor has gone, there are still a few survivors left.
R.I.P. Flt Lt William Walker, one of the few that the many really do owe so much to.
Soldato
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RIP matey , thank you .
Soldato
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RIP 
Soldato
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RIP.
Man of Honour
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Cheers to you Bill and indeed all who served in the BoB. Talk about against the odds.
Soldato
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I'm sure I read the oldest Auschwitz survivor died today as well (108ish)
kd
kd
RIP Flt Lt Walker, thanks for all you did.
Horrendously sad to think WW2 will be out of living memory in less than 10 years.
I'm not sure how many of the "few" are left, I know Geoffrey Wellum and Tom Neil are still alive.
Wellum wrote his account of the Battle of Britain a few years ago, its called "First Light" and is IMHO essential ready for everyone.
Horrendously sad to think WW2 will be out of living memory in less than 10 years.
I'm not sure how many of the "few" are left, I know Geoffrey Wellum and Tom Neil are still alive.
Wellum wrote his account of the Battle of Britain a few years ago, its called "First Light" and is IMHO essential ready for everyone.
"High Flight"
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
