For a baby boomer brought up on the Biggles stories of Captain W E Johns, the opening pages of this classic memoir of World War aviation seem eerily familiar. Cecil Lewis and his schoolfriend decide to enlist in the RFC at the age of 16. ‘Wouldn’t it be ripping!’ they cry as they abandon their studies, and ‘Hurrah!’ as they are invited for interview with a genial officer who happily accepts the lie that they are 17, and bases his judgements on their public school sporting record.
This truly was the heroic age of flight, and Lewis went on to be a fighter ace and flight commander, leaving the RFC at just 20 years old. He also served with distinction in World War II, and later piloted a Tiger Moth biplane for the last time at the age of 94. A bald account of his exploits would be fascinating enough, but Sagittarius Rising is a beautifully written book, at times rising to a poetic level in its depictions of the perils, joys, and beauty of early flight and aerial combat.
Hazardous missions
The primitive nature of the early RFC planes and the rushed programmes of training make flying extremely hazardous, even before combat is attempted. Lewis is clearly a natural flyer, but he is deployed to France with just 14 hours flying experience. ‘My God, it’s murder!’ his officer cries, and he ensures Lewis gets to 50 hours before he is deployed to an active squadron.
Celebrity beasts