It’s good to hear from a satisfied reader and always something of a surprise when it’s from someone on the other side of the world, small though the world is these days.
A few days ago an e.mail came through from an ex-Australian Army Blackhawk pilot named Richard (no surname as he was once involved with the SAS) saying he’d enjoyed Blue Man Falling and Band Of Eagles. ‘I can certainly relate to the characters,’ he told me, ‘especially Ossie Wolf who is oh-so-familiar. I came across several types like him over the years, mostly Yank fighter jocks who were seven-feet tall and bulletproof, and as soon as they got into combat went to pieces.’ I think Ossie would take issue with that, in his inimitable way, so perhaps it’s just as well he’s a fictional character.
Anyway, Richard went on to say that his interest in World War Two fighters was in the blood because his uncle was the Kiwi ace Al Deere, a flight commander with 54 Squadron during the Battle of Britain, who retired from the service as an Air Commodore in 1967. Richard also reported a visit to the set of the new Dambusters film on location in Masterton NZ, ‘where they’ve built a full-size replica of a Lancaster, amazing really, and I met the last surviving Kiwi who took part in the Raid as a pilot. Now there’s a real hero.’
It’s a relief to hear that history isn’t being re-written to claim the Raid was made by B17 Flying Fortresses piloted by seven-foot tall, bullet-proof Yank fighter jocks…
Monthly Archive for October, 2009
I thought I’d made it at last when my publisher, Headline Review, announced that they were flying me out at Malta at the beginning of November on a promotional tour, geared round the publication of a special local edition of Band Of Eagles, re-titled Band Of Eagles Over Malta. When I got the itinerary the first appointment was listed as ‘ 10.00 a.m-11.30 a.m Embassy’. I thought it was a bit early for a posh do, rather regretting that I would not be announced by a flunky at the top of the sweeping staircase. ‘ Lord and Lady Blinks, the Honourable Percy Phipps, Elmer T.Hockenbasher…and our guest of honour, Lords, Ladies and gentleman, Mr Frank Barnard.’
At which point I would descend into a glittering world where candlelight glinted on medals, picked out diamonds on tiaras, and from every point came the sound of light applause accompanied by the raising of flutes of champagne. Pity that, sounded rather good. But still, a morning affair was something of a compliment so I ‘phoned Headline publicity. ‘ This bash at the Embassy,’ I said. ‘ Can you advise on what I should wear?’
‘ Oh I don’t know, the usual I suppose. Whatever you feel comfortable in.’
‘ Well, how formal it it?’
‘ Not at all, I shouldn’t think. They’ll sit you at a table and you’ll just sign books if people buy any.’
‘ Sounds a bit casual doesn’t it?’ A seed of doubt began to grow. ‘ Will our Ambassador be there?’
‘ The Ambassador?’
‘ The British Ambassador.’
‘ I shouldn’t think so, no. Why should he be?’
‘ Well, being the Embassy I rather thought…’
‘ Oh I see. No, it’s not that Embassy. It’s the Embassy shopping mall.’
I do not plan to wear medals. Lucky really, because I haven’t got any.
