'It just goes on and on in my head, and makes me fear very much, that I will not see my son again': A woman's response to captivity.

A little musing given today is International Women's Day. More often than not, the impact of war on women is forgotten or airbrushed out of the usual sort of military book. My aviation biographies have both included details of the women my subjects loved but word limit precluded only brief mentions. I had more scope in Australia's Few to deal with the impact of loss on the airmen's wives, girlfriends and mothers. Strange as it may seem, women will have a more significant place in my POW thesis because I believe that captivity (and war in general for that matter) was not just a male experience. It was also a female one. And so, (at this stage) roughly a third of my thesis is dedicated to women's responses to their menfolk's captivity; the importance of the women to the POWs as links to home; and the significance of their absence in the men's lives behind barbed wire.

When I first started research I was worried that I would not be able to gather evidence to tell the women's stories and, to be truthful, two families declined to provide me with access to their letters because they believed they were too private. I do understand this attitude but as well as protecting privacy, they are also ensuring that women's responses to captivity continue to be airbrushed from history.

Fortunately, other families have been more supportive of my desire to recount the female perspective. Here is a small indication of the pain Mrs May Fraser felt when she heard her son Donald was missing. She did not know if he was alive or dead, and it was the second time he had gone missing on operations so she knew it would be some time before she heard anything definite. If at all. She wrote to a friend who used to serve with him, hoping for just a little bit of hope to cling on to.

I am writing to ask you if you can give us any idea of the work Don was doing at the time he was reported missing, where you think he would likely be, over the land, or over the sea—is it possible he would be Tunisia, or do you think Italy or Sicily would be more likely spots, and will you honestly tell me, what you think of his chances of still being alive—I try to hope that he may be a POW and if he came down over the land there may be a chance that he is—but I am very afraid of the sea. I know they have rubber boats and every other contrivance for safety, but if they are shot down, would they have time to use them. That is what is worrying me so, it just goes on and on in my head, and makes me fear very much, that I will not see my son again.

The friend wrote back, and she gladly accepted the gleam of hope he offered but she still suffered from the lack of knowledge. 'I haven't been well, the worry and anxiety always sends my blood pressure.' She eventually heard that Donald had been captured and sent to a prisoner of war camp. Her granddaughter recalled that her relief that he was safely out of harm’s way in a Stalag Luft III was intense. There was a great sense of peace that he was safe. And then May waited for his return.

Lores Bonney and International Women's Day 2016

International Women’s Day has been an annual event for over a century in some countries and many decades in Australia. The women of Brisbane—or at least some of them—were early supporters of it when, on 8 March 1924, the Women Workers’ Organisation held a dance and speech night. Details appeared in the popular ‘Tea-Time Talk’ column in Brisbane’s Daily Standard but, judging by Lores Bonney’s example, it seems as if media support for women’s endeavours did not extend much beyond the women’s pages.

The Daily Mail’s article of 12 August 1932, for example, was typical of the press treatment Lores received throughout her flying career. Despite acknowledging that she had made ‘two very creditable’ flights, it detracted from the accolade by attributing her ‘definite associations with aviation’ to her husband who, ‘though he himself does not fly, is a cousin of Hinkler’. The Mail continued to denigrate Lores’ achievements by waxing lyrical about her femininity: ‘Mrs Bonney proves that flying does not diminish womanly charm. She combines love of the air with a passion for her home, and is definitely a feminine type, dark [and] petite’. Descriptions of her non-flying wardrobe were intermingled with details of the prospective flight. The ‘vivacious brunette’, gushed the Mail, favoured ‘picturesque styles’ and outfits ‘chosen with true chic’.

Proving that little had changed in her press portrayal, the trend continued. In the lead-up to the Brisbane–Adelaide Centenary Air Race in 1936, scattered among articles proclaiming her aerial competency, were comments about her culinary prowess and instead of proudly showing off her flying leathers, she was photographed wearing a neat apron and reported as spending ‘some of her happiest hours in the kitchen’. The home-maker, not the record-maker, was the prevailing image. Is it any wonder that Lores was largely unsuccessful in her struggle to secure sponsorship for her transcontinental flights?

Lores Bonney’s femininity was as much a part of who she was as her accomplishments. It didn’t have to be denied but Lores should not have been defined by it, nor should her achievements be undermined because of it. Her femininity just needed to be placed in a proper context.

Certainly, I did not want to hide Lores the woman—nor did NLA Publishing. We wanted to reveal all aspects of a well-rounded personality, character and career. Stylish, house-proud Lores who deferred to her husband, was just as valid historically as Lores the record-breaking pilot. It says much about Lores and her success as an aviator that, despite the media’s dual depiction of her as a pretty little fashionista and competent pilot, the prevailing images now in the public domain—and Taking Flight, for that matter—are those of Lores the pilot, garbed in either suede flying kit or white overalls. Barely a pinny or picturesque frock in sight.

It was not easy to gain acceptance in the male-dominated aviation world of the 1930s. On the morning Lores embarked on her Australia–England flight, The Brisbane Courier’s journalist ‘wondered at and admired the courage of the frail little woman in what, to the lay mind, was a frail little machine’—and the next day shared those musings with the Courier’s readers. Happily, others recognised Lores the pilot rather than the fragile little petal. When she stopped off at Charleville, the proprietor of the hotel presented her with a bottle of whisky, the traditional gift to all pilots about to depart Australia. At Darwin’s Victoria Hotel, she was put up in the Aviator’s Room where all pilots were accommodated before hopping off from Darwin or arriving from foreign climes. She was accorded the same privilege as her male peers including Bert Hinkler and Charles Kingsford Smith.

Lores wanted to fly above all else, and she did indeed make it happen, using every means at her disposal. She relied on her husband’s good nature and finances, she drew on the experiences of other pilots, and she built on her own. She continually improved her flying skill and planned diligently. Things did go wrong—they always do—and you will read some horrifying accounts in Taking Flight—but even though Lores came close to death many times, she never gave up. Lores well proved that she was far from frail. Indeed, she had as much gumption as any man. Or any woman. As any pilot.

In 1990, aged 92, Lores recognised just how far women had come. Not just in aviation, but in all fields. ‘Isn’t it wonderful what women are doing these days?, she remarked. International Women’s Day lauds—and highlights—the achievements of all women, everywhere. I’m delighted that Taking Flight: Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career, will be launched on this significant day.