Aviatrix Lores Bonney’s Feminine Practicality

Originally published on NLA Publishing's blog on 1 March 2016 (Note 23 November 2023: no longer on line:)

When you write someone's biography, you try to find some common bond with your subject. Aviatrix Lores Bonney and I are unalike in so many ways but there is one thing we have on common. We both wear pearls! I laughed out loud when I read how she came to like this simple, elegant jewel.

It came about before the Great War, while still a student in Germany. One day, the girls were told that the Kaiserin would visit. It was a ‘great day of excitement'. Lores was throbbing with anticipation—‘She's going to speak to me, she's going to speak to me'—but the Kaiserin ‘stopped beside the girl next to me. And I really could have scratched her eyes out'. When she saw the empress' magnificent necklace, pearls instantly became Lores' ‘pet jewel'. They ‘have been an extravagance of mine ever since'. The adult Lores was often photographed wearing a strand or two and, I must confess, I am rarely seen without my own.

Lores in her pearls (left) and with a lace trim collar (right).

Lores was considered a women of taste. She often appeared in the ‘Best Dressed' newspaper columns and her costumes were described in detail, including the handmade French frock of cream net and lace that she wore at her party in honour of Bert Hinkler, after he became the first person to fly solo from England to Australia. Six months later, Hinkler was back in Brisbane and taking Lores up for her first ‘taste of the air' on 7 September 1928. For this life-changing occasion, she teamed an aviator helmet and googles with an elegant ensemble featuring a subtle touch of lace trim on her collar.

Three years later, Lores was learning to fly. Discovering a passion for long-distance flying, she set an Australian record for a one-day flight in 1931 and she became the first woman to circumnavigate mainland Australia by air in 1932. In 1933, she set her sights on becoming the first woman to fly solo from Australia to England. But what to wear? Lores commissioned her husband, a leather goods manufacturer, to make her a leather coat and suede overalls.

Lores in her leather flying coat (left) and dressed for comfort and practicality (right).

Fashion was important to Lores and she made every effort when preparing for her epic transcontinental flight to blend comfort, practicality and style. Space for personal items in My Little Ship, her Gipsy Moth biplane, was limited, yet the aviatrix had to cater for climates of great extremes. Ultimately, she planned a simple, modish wardrobe that was easy to maintain and manage. For cold weather, she packed her overalls and coat. For the tropics and deserts, she wore blouses and shorts. On landing, she would don a simple wrap skirt. She also considered what to wear when she wasn't flying. She selected a light floral dress for afternoon wear, which could be topped with a coatee. At night, she would add a bright sash or fresh flowers: ‘Presto! An evening frock'. As for jewellery, Lores never wore it during long flights, as she worried that treasured pieces might be stolen. The only exception was a simple white-gold band. The pearls, of which she was so fond, were left behind.

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney's Extraordinary Flying Career highlights the achievements of a pioneering aviator but does not forget that Lores was as much concerned with her identity as a feminine woman as well as a record-breaking pilot trying to establish her place in a man's world. When it is launched on 8 March 2016—International Women's Day—I will wear my pearls in Lores' honour.

(This next bit wasn't in the NLA blog post)

And how did I come to love pearls so much? Well, it was through my mother. My Godmother gave her a strand of pearls, which she loved. And I coveted. Mum allowed me to wear them when I got married and, on my last birthday before she died - almost 20 years ago now - she gave them to me. I am now rarely seen without them. And so, when I wear them at the launch, it will be in Lores' honour, but it will also be in remembrance of my mother, and in thanks to my Godmother.

My Mother and Godmother both wearing pearls at my graduation. I am pearl-less. And, although I am not green-eyed with jealousy, I am green-eyed. The opus stud is at least mum's.

Proudly wearing pearls (and husband) at my wedding.

There are the pearls again, round about when my first book was published, 10 years after Mum's death.

Still wearing them!

NLA Images:

Lores Wearing Pearls, Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney, c. 1920–c. 1990, nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms10127

Lores with Nance Hinkler, Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney, c. 1920–c. 1990, nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms10127

Aviatrix Lores Bonney Boarding Her Gypsy Moth at Charleville, c. 1933, State Library of Queensland

Lores Standing in Front of My Little Ship, Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney, c. 1920–c. 1990, nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms10127

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. 

 

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney's Extraordinary Flying Career.

I am thrilled to announce that my fifth book will be released on 1 March 2016.

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career celebrates the life and achievements of one of Australia’s foremost pioneering aviatrixes. Early 'buzz' is very favourable.

 http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/media#296

Taking Flight will be launched on 8 March, on International Women’s Day. https://register.eventarc.com/33002/book-launch-taking-flight

From her first taste of the air during a joy ride with Bert Hinkler, Lores Bonney was hooked.

With licence in hand and the full support of her husband, she took to the skies with relish and discovered a passion for long distance flying.

Her accomplishments were remarkable. In 1931, she set a new Australian record for a one-day flight by a woman and, in the following year, she was the first female to circumnavigate mainland Australia by air. In 1933, she was acknowledged as the first woman to fly from Australia to England and in 1937 she became the first person to fly solo from Australia to Cape Town, South Africa. She was regarded as perhaps Australia’s most competent aviatrix.

In 2011, Lores’ goddaughter donated to the National Library of Australia a number of artefacts and documents relating to the aviatrix’s flying career. The diaries Lores kept preceding and during her 1933 and 1937 flights are the cornerstone of this collection, and are at the heart of Taking Flight.

Important as those diaries are, I also draw on a broad range sources—many of which are in the National Library’s collection—including interviews, published recollections, contemporary newspaper accounts and official documents.

NLA Publishing have produced a magnificent book. It is full of illustrations from the National Library’s collection, some from my own albums, and from other aviation holdings. As well as the narrative, there are lots of detailed captions and text boxes, and extracts from Lores Bonney’s 1933 and 1937 diaries.

Taking Flight: Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career enhances understanding of Australia’s era of pioneer aviation, and reinforces Lores Bonney’s reputation as a significant Australian airwoman. It includes details of Lores’ pre-flight life, her first flight and record-breaking flights, a close encounter with Charles Kingsford Smith, her role as one of Australia’s premier airwoman, participation in the Brisbane–Adelaide air race and the search for the missing Stinson. It includes brushes (and near misses) with famous Australian and international flying stars and details of her post-flying career.

Perhaps surprisingly, Lores diaries expose the woman behind the pilot who, like all of us, possessed strengths, weaknesses, virtues and vices. With the honesty associated with a private record, the aviatrix did not conceal her disappointments and fears, nor her psychological fragility towards the end of her African flight. All this is revealed in Taking Flight. Read it! And discover much about one of Australia's most significant female flyers.

RRP is $A39.99 but you can pre-order your signed copy for $A34.99 (plus p&p) via Alexander Fax Booksellers. (I will even inscribe it if you prefer!)

Just follow the links and we will let you know when stocks are available. http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/books/takingflight

If you can’t wait until the book is released, cast your eyes over the below edited extract from the Australia–England section:

A crowd of about 150, including close friends and Queensland aero club members, assembled at Archerfield aerodrome on 10 April. Lores’ face looked pale and drawn; she had had a sleepless night. Even so, she was ‘feeling all OK’. According to The Daily Mail, her husband gave her a ‘last word’. Snugly attired, with a scarf draped around her neck and a belted leather coat covering a blouse, she exchanged a few brief words with a well-wisher. Final farewells complete, the aviatrix climbed into My Little Ship, her Gypsy Moth aeroplane. According to The Brisbane Courier’s journalist, who ‘wondered at and admired the courage of the frail little woman in what, to the lay mind, was a frail little machine’, My Little Ship then coasted across the aerodrome as the aero club’s escort formed up behind. At 8.30 am, she ‘led the way into the upper air, and, after circling, was lost to view’, leaving behind her husband and friends, Brisbane, and Archerfield aerodrome which had witnessed the completion of her previous record-breaking flights. Five days later, she left Australia’s shores.

The first days of her epic journey were not without incident as she maintained a record-breaking pace. Her flying skills were sound and luck was on her side as she gamely battled through. Within days, however, good fortune abandoned her. After leaving Singapore on 20 April, Lores encountered ‘One storm after another & very rough going.’ Three hours out of Alor Star, she was ‘enveloped in it’. Buffeted by strong winds, Lores struggled to maintain control.

The sky darkened dramatically. Soon the gusts were so fierce ‘it became almost impossible to correct the bumps’. Lores was terrified that ‘my wings would be ripped off ’. The aviatrix’s Gipsy Moth biplane, My Little Ship, was ‘tossed about like a leaf in the gale’. One moment, it was ‘racing, nose down at breakneck speed’. The next, the airwoman was thrown onto the right side of the cockpit, then the left. Within a blink, ‘in a violent upward current’, the Moth was practically vertical, seemingly suspended from its upright nose; the machine was ‘hanging on her prop’. It was getting darker and darker as My Little Ship blundered through the monsoon. Clinging to the controls, Lores used all the strength of her petite frame and every skerrick of flying skill to maintain stability—and to stay airborne.

Lores battled for about 20 minutes then ‘lost all visibility’. She was ‘flying very low’ and ‘was afraid of barging into the many small islands’ that dotted the sea in the Mergui Archipelago. ‘I suddenly felt a vigorous jolt as though I had struck something. I found myself well over on my right wing, and it took me all my time to bring her back again.’ It may have been ‘just one of those violent currents’ but it made the airwoman feel ‘very uncomfortable’. Indeed, she was ‘decidedly terrified’. It was 5.30 pm, with heavy lightning ahead. She was only about 30 miles from Victoria Point but, with a sky ‘as black as ink’, she thought it best to land.

The aviatrix flew over a coastline. She ‘circled several times and decided the beach was best’ as there were ‘too many bushes on the land’. There were several buffalo about so she ‘side slipped down between the herds’. Lores was ‘just flattening out’ when she saw the ‘buffalo walking right into the path of the plane’. There wasn’t enough room to take off again to avoid them. As she landed, she: ‘tried to swing a little to the left, but unfortunately the beach sloped away … the wing caught the water & swung her round, the next thing I felt was the wheels dragging & big spray came up I felt a terrific bang on my forehead and my face was under water.’ My Little Ship had flipped over. Lores was trapped.

You’ll just have to read the book to find out what happens next!

 

2015 ACT Writing and Publishing Award

I am thrilled to announce that my fourth book, Australia's Few and the Battle of Britain won the nonfiction category of the ACT Writing and Publishing Award.

While I am fond of all of my books, I firmly believe that this is the best book I have written. It might even be the best I will ever write! It is testament to the men I wrote about, but also to their families who placed their faith and trust in me to tell their stories. 

I first conceived the idea of recounting the experiences of young Australians in the Battle of Britain in 2008. It was a hard researching and writing slog. Perhaps the hardest of my writing career. The first inkling I had that this book was something special was about this time in 2012 when my agent sent me an email headed 'Have reached end of ms...bereft'. As all good agents should, she then waxed lyrical about the manuscript's good points and I finally began to appreciate that Australia's Few was VERY special.  

It is always wonderful to receive praise for your writing. Apart from the boost to my ego, it also validates the stories of the young men who fought in the Battle of Britain. Their stories are important, they should be told, and the men should be remembered.

It was a truly proud moment as I stood listening to the judges comments. Not that I am biased or anything but I felt that they had the write tone and balance. The judges recognised not only what I had written and its importance, the intense research that had gone into it, and of course the personal connection to the story and my emotional involvement, but they acknowledged that it was a joint effort of writer and publishing house. The stories of 'my' eight young men would not have been launched if not for NewSouth who realised their significance. 

And here are the notes: 

This is a very well-researched, well-documented, well-structured and well-written book. It looks at the role of the ’30 or so’ Australians who took part in the Battle of Britain through the lens of the lives of eight young fighter pilots. Each man’s story is brought to life using letters, diary entries, official correspondence, public records and family reminiscence. The eight stories are interwoven and, taken together, give readers a detailed perspective of how this historical battle unfolded. The use of family photos reinforces the ‘everyman’ nature of the pilots and brings home the real cost of war at many levels: individual, family, community and national. It is a book that can be read both for its engaging and sympathetic portrayal of the individual men and for its consideration of a pivotal time in the history of World War II. The writing is always fluid and engages the reader intimately with emotion and pathos. The need to convey accurate information never hinders the flow of the narrative. The author has an exceptional ability to set specific material, such as quotations from original documents, into a broader familial, social and political context, and in this way inform the reader at several levels at once. In addition to the incomparable writing style, this book stood out because of its very high production value, with excellent use of subheadings, maps, photographs, notes, bibliography, contents pages, author’s notes and index. 

 

Alex Kerr: Shot Down. A Secret Diary of One POW’s Long March to Freedom.

Shot Down. A Secret Diary of One POW’s Long March to Freedom.

Big Sky Publishing, June 2015, 199 pages

ISBN: 9781925275179

$A24.99

Over the past decade or so, I’ve written about Australian pilots in the air war against Germany, exploring, among other things, how they coped in combat and with the after effects of battle. In some cases, their very identity was linked intrinsically to their capacity to fly and, indeed, for some, their need to fly was so strong they thought little of the cost. I began to wonder how they would manage when ‘wingless’, when they were taken out of operations not through combat injury but because they had been captured.

Even from the first day of the Second World War, Germany claimed airmen as prisoners of war. Australian airmen were a minority. Of the servicemen captured in Europe, 8,591 were Australians, and 1,476 of those were airmen serving in the Royal Air Force and Royal Australian Air Force. This equated to approximately seventeen per cent of Australian prisoners. Australian airmen were imprisoned throughout an extensive and ever-growing German prison network and many of those captured in Mediterranean and Middle East actions had previously been incarcerated in Italian camps. Each branch of the armed services managed its own facilities but, even after the Luftwaffe established its own camps, airmen were not confined exclusively in Luft camps. So it was for Sergeant Alex Kerr, a graduate of the Empire Air Training Scheme’s No. 1 Course, who was imprisoned by the Wehrmacht and Luftwaffe.

Twenty-year-old Alex had been operational with No. 115 Squadron as second pilot on a Wellington for less than a month when, on 10 May 1941, he and his British crew members were on their way home after a successful bombing run to Hamburg, one of Germany’s most fiercely defended targets.

With little warning, a night fighter announced its presence by firing on, and hitting, the rear turret. The pilot made every attempt to evade but the German fighter pilot fired again. Bullets ripped through fabric and metal and Alex was knocked backwards as he was hit. As the aircraft began to burn, as the fabric-covered Wellington was apt to do, he lay there, cursing the German pilot, and, for several seconds, knew the stark fear of the helpless.

Alex lost consciousness. When he awoke, his fear had gone, replaced by a ‘lulling, lethargic calm, a slowness of movement that could well be fatal in an emergency’, and so it would have been if Dave, the rear gunner who had amazingly survived the attentions of the night fighter, hadn’t shoved him out of the stricken aircraft, thus saving his life.

The West Australian’s injuries were so severe there had been talk of medical repatriation. After months in German hospitals, he was sent to a prisoner of war camp. He had had a relatively easy time of it in the hospitals, even quite enjoying the ‘gentle and friendly attitude’ of medical staff and fellow prisoners. He had even valued kindnesses from orderlies working behind the backs of German guards to acquire treats for the patients. But now, as Alex ‘saw barbed wire close up for the first time’ he ‘realised its grim purpose’. No chance of repatriation now. He was just a number.

Alex was incarcerated in Stalag IIIE, Kirchhain, then Stalag Luft III, Sagan, Stalag Luft VI, Heydekrug, Stalag 357, Thorn and Stalag XIB, Fallingbostel. In the final months of the war, he trudged across Germany in the Long March. After narrowly escaping death when the column was strafed by Allied aircraft, he and a mate escaped to Allied lines and freedom. These are the bare bones of a fascinating memoir which, as indicated in the foreword, reveals a man of great resilience and integrity who demonstrated strength, courage and devotion to his mates.

I will just point out here that this memoir is an important addition to Australian military history. Not just because of some of the particular aspects, which I will touch on below, but because there are significantly fewer accounts by Australians taken prisoner by the Germans. For example, in a review article covering books written by or about Australian prisoners between 1980 and 1989, Hank Nelson listed 48 works. Of those, 40 related to prisoners of the Japanese, two dealt with prisoners of Japan and Germany, and six are about prisoners of Germany and Italy. In his 2002 survey of the ‘prisoner experience as literature’, Peter Stanley noted that of the 500+ books in the Australian War Memorial’s Australian prisoner of war catalogue, three-fifths deal with prisoners of the Japanese, prisoners of the Reich account for a third, and those relating to captives of the Italians take up less than a tenth of the shelf space. The proportions have barely changed. To its credit, Big Sky Publishing’s catalogue includes a number of prisoner of war accounts dealing with captivity in Germany.

But back to Alex. Largely based on the diary he kept during imprisonment, Shot Down is written in such a matter-of-fact style that the reader on occasion has to peer through the lines to the full emotion of living in close confinement without a release date in sight, where ‘wingless’ airmen could not contribute to the fighting war effort and were so isolated from credible sources of war news that they could only trust that the Allies would eventually prevail. It is hard to imagine just what being a prisoner of war meant, but I had a go at it, as I wanted to get a good look behind the lines that Alex did not write, and to hear what he did not quite say.

Imagine living in an environment where there was no silence, in such profound intimacy that every breath, every sniff or snort, every fart and stomach grumble, every nightmare, every mood swing, every shift on lumpy palliasse and bed board-deprived bunk, every surreptitious movement under threadbare blanket was heard by every other man in the overcrowded barrack. Even thoughts were not private because, after living in such close proximity, almost anyone could read them and so, the only real solitude was in the cooler. Just imagine the tension building as men from all walks tried to muddle along with people so different in personality that they probably wouldn’t have bothered knowing them in ‘real life’. Consider trying to be cheery, friendly and tolerant when all you wanted to do was wring the bloody neck of the bloke who spilt the last teaspoon of the communal store of sugar. Imagine having to fill your time with any sort of busy-work just so you wouldn’t go crazy with inactivity. It almost defeats me to picture it, and I am sure it would defeat me to live it.

Alex, however, was made of much sterner stuff than me and despite everything, fared so well that he gained from his experiences. He also demonstrates that community can exist in enforced communal living. Indeed, it is one of the strengths of this memoir that Alex portrays a balanced account of life in a German prisoner of war camp. Monotonous, with great deprivation, yes - if not for regular Red Cross parcels, the men would have starved on German rations - but to compensate, lifelong friendships developed and were nurtured, and the foundations of many future careers were laid. In addition, much was discovered about goodness, kindness and humanity, and evil, in enemy, friend and self.

Like many other camps, Stalag IIIE had some benevolent guards who treated their charges reasonably well along with its share of tyrants ‘who had maltreated us’. Indeed, ‘Stalag IIIE was a camp in which violence had earlier been used and prisoners have been bashed by guards and subjected to harsh treatment ordered by the commandant.’ And so, after they had left Kirchhain, when Alex and his fellow prisoners were asked the names of the Germans who had traded with them, they handed in a list which included only the names of those who had mistreated them, knowing full well that the malefactors would be punished severely. To Alex’s credit, he does not let himself off the hook by refraining to include a story where he and his friends, perhaps understandably, exact retribution, especially when it seems he is not entirely sorry for his part in the scheme: ‘In retrospect it is probable that most of us felt rather guilty about the result’. And here is one of the reasons I like this memoir so much. There is nothing pretentious or literary about it. It is simple and unassuming and Alex is honest and open.    

Counterbalancing the darker side of humanity is a story which reveals true kindness and highlights all that is good about the ‘brotherhood of man’. Harry Calvert, who was older than Alex, had developed a well-earned reputation as Stalag IIIE’s most successful trader. As Alex sat on his bed contemplating how to celebrate his 21st birthday, Harry poked his head in the door: ‘I heard it’s your birthday today’. There were no secrets in a prisoner of war camp. Alex confirmed that it was indeed his birthday. ‘Happy birthday, Aussie’, Harry said, as he placed a precious egg in Alex’s hand. It was the first egg the West Australian had seen for a year, and a gift from a man Alex had barely met, even within the close confines of a prison camp. It was a gesture of compassion and generosity he would never forget.

As well as revealing the positives and negatives of the human condition and how many adjust to life without liberty, Alex recounts little known aspects of captivity in Europe. For example, he and 51 other prisoners tunnelled out of Stalag IIIE. He was on the run for ten days. He never forgot that ‘feeling of triumph and excitement’ during that, and subsequent escape attempts. ‘It was an exhilarating feeling knowing you were winning a dangerous cat and mouse game with maybe a disastrous result if you lost. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins almost continuously.’ Alex was one of the last to be recaptured. Fifty-one of the escapees were returned to camp. But not Harry Calvert, Alex’s birthday benefactor. He was the only casualty, shot for no apparent reason.

The Great Kirchhain Breakout was the largest, most successful escape attempt to date, yet, surprisingly, little has been written about it. Alex’s account is thus more than just a wartime memoir. It is a valuable addition to escape literature and, because of Australian involvement, our military history. So too is his description of life in Stalag Luft III. Rather than the usual officer-centric escape focus of the prolific Wooden Horse or Great Escape narratives, Alex offers a rare NCO perspective of everyday life and friendship in that most famous of camps.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this review, I am interested in how men cope in captivity, and I was concerned that perhaps Alex had not ultimately coped with four years of imprisonment. This wasn’t because Alex had confessed to it (quite the contrary as I will discuss below) but because of the lack of emotion in some parts, such as Harry Calvert’s death, and a dispassionate style which might indicate that nothing had touched him. But Alex had coped and did so remarkably well. His prison life was full of activity such as arts and crafts, sport and music. When the prison education system was established, he signed up. Not only did he relieve the monotony of camp existence through study, but he received the sort of education few Australian lads could ever dream of attaining. He received a Certificate in Social Science from Oxford University (he did so well in this that Oxford considered the standard he had achieved under camp conditions to be equivalent of that required for University Honours) and a Bachelor of Science and Economics degree from London University. If anything, the dispassionate style is a reflection of the fact that Alex felt that his prisoner of war years had not been overly harrowing; ‘they did not seem so important to me at the time’. Yes, Alex had managed well in captivity and there are a number of reasons for this.

At the beginning of the book, when he talks about his formative years, Alex tells of his inbuilt sense of optimism, how faced with new, unexpected experiences he just got on with it. For example, when he was pulled from school because his father’s income had suffered during the Depression, he ‘commiserated with Dad over his loss’, found a job post haste, enjoyed what it had to offer and ‘matured quickly and tasted many new facets of life … made new friends and tried my hand at a lot of new activities…’ Alex could have easily written that at the end of the book and it would have been equally as apt because that is exactly what he did in a succession of prisoner of war camps. He clearly made the most of his camp life and the new friendships it offered. Friends coped better in captivity. They shared food and memories and supported each other. But camaraderie was more than just a means of survival for Alex. He had a gift for friendship, both giving and receiving and his relationships with crewmembers and fellow prisoners lasted a lifetime and beyond. In many ways, this memoir is a testament to friendship.

Shot Down is also a testament to optimism and, looking back, Alex believed his inherent optimism enabled him ‘to bear the vicissitudes of incarceration with fortitude’. Alex would be too modest to claim it, but I think his fellow prisoners’ ability to cope with seemingly limitless confinement would have been enhanced by his natural buoyancy.

That Alex considered his prison experience not so much ‘traumatic but rather exciting and overall beneficial’ is another reason why he survived captivity. So too is his attitude. ‘I had taken a positive view of life and had been determined to take every opportunity while in camp to improve my lot in life’. Apart from planning for his future through education, he grew in self-confidence, assumed leadership roles and developed important life skills. Without doubt, he ‘weathered the storm well’ and ‘came out of prison thankful that my life had so miraculously been saved’. Indeed, Alex admits that being shot down and imprisoned were perhaps the best things to ever happen to him. He survived for one, whereas many from Bomber Command did not. The statistics of his own training group are particularly telling. Of the forty members of his course, only twelve men were alive at the end of hostilities, and nine of them had been prisoners of war. Fully aware of how fortunate he had been, after returning home he promised himself to ‘make the most of the reprieve I had been given. I would live every day to the fullest’. And he did. The former newspaper office boy went on to enjoy a career in academia, where he became a professor and ultimately Deputy Vice-Chancellor of Murdoch University in Perth, Western Australia. Alex’s achievements and life attitude firmly demonstrate that his years spent in captivity were not wasted.

There is perhaps another reason why Alex coped so well in the post-war years. He may not have been entirely sorry for ‘dobbing’ in the cruel camp personnel but he bore no real grudge against those who acted with decency and later accepted the essential humanity of those of the enemy who, like him were just doing their wartime job. He may have cursed the Luftwaffe pilot who shot him down but Alex contacted him after the war and they corresponded. It is clear to me that there was a measure of reconciliation, given and accepted, in their exchange of letters and experiences. ‘I got a good feeling to get so friendly lines from a former adversary’, wrote the former night fighter. For Alex, along with reconciliation, came the answers to questions which had puzzled him for half a century.

Hard core aviation enthusiasts may turn away from this memoir because it is a largely an account of captivity. That would be a mistake. The book includes enough training and operational details to satisfy any aviation nut - Alex’s account of his last op is sheer, nail-biting, storytelling magic. Shot Down is also an incredibly rich life story that even offers a gentle lesson in making the most of difficult circumstances. It is also a significant addition to Australian military, aviation, and prisoner of war history. Uplifting and recommended. It is one of the best POW accounts I've ever read.

This review originally appeared on Aircrew Book Review http://aircrewbookreview.blogspot.com.au/2015/10/shot-down-alex-kerr.html

Addendum. Some time after this review appeared, Alex contacted me and told me that I had 'got it', regarding his experiences. It was a remarkable compliment, and one I treasure. Alex supported my research and gave me permission to draw from his log book (my friend Charles Page photographed it for me as I wasn't getting to WA in a hurry). Alex has figured large in my research since and made 'appearances' in some of my presentations. Just before Christmas 2018 (when I last worked on the thesis draft) I was consulting Shot Down and thinking of him and writing about him. Vale Alexander McBride Kerr, 23 April 1921-30 December 2018. 

Reading. You can never get enough of it.

 

Earlier this year, I conducted a writing biography workshop for the ACT Writers Centre. Funnily enough, with (at the time) four biographical works published and one in production, I had a lot to say, especially about how to go about writing a biography. But even before picking up pen (or placing fingers on keyboard) I urged the participants to do their ground work; to prepare themselves thoroughly for the massive task of undertaking—and completing—a book length project. And so, a key section of the workshop was ‘What you need to consider before sitting down to write a biography’.

One of my suggestions—well, to tell the truth, it was not a suggestion, it was virtually a demand as it is so fundamental to good writing practice—was that every would-be writer has to read. And this applies to every writer, not just biographers. As I explained at the time, if you haven’t yet hit on your style, the way you want to tell your story, you need to acquaint yourself with how other writers have done it. What sort of biographies are out there, for example (that, after all was the topic of my workshop). What is selling. What sits on the remainder table. Read broadly, I stressed. Not just about your subject but about their time so you can get a sense of how they fitted in. Delve into biographies of other men or women whose lives your subject might have intersected; the story of someone brought up in the same area, for instance, at the same time. Devour biographies outside your area of interest to see how they are written and what works and what doesn’t. Lose yourself in novels of all persuasions so you can get an idea of good writing, what works, how to pace, develop the narrative arc. Crime and thriller fiction are very good for narrative arc and pace, by the way.

 

Don’t just take my word for it about the importance of reading, I told them. Hannah Kent, author of the mind-blowingly good, and award-winning novel Burial Rites, has five rules of writing and Read is top of the list.

‘To be a good writer’, she says, ‘first and foremost, be a good reader. How else will you learn what to do?’ She advises to ‘Read as much as possible, as often as possible, and if you read something you like, or something that makes you laugh, or something that moves you in a strange, ineffable way, ask why. Re-read it. Read it aloud. Pay attention to the use of words, and the narrative voice, and the comic timing. If you don't understand words, splurge on a really great dictionary and look those words up. The more words you know, the greater your control over language. Read everything. How else will you work out what is good and what is bad?’ Kent may be talking from the experience of a fiction writer, but it is sound advice for non-fiction authors as well. Her rules are at http://hannahkentauthor.com/news/2014/7/7/my-ewf-five-rules-for-writing  

I have spent a life time reading and perhaps that is why I was able to write my first book without benefit of courses, workshops, manuscript assessment, or freelance editing prior to submission, and was able to land a contract on my first pitch to a publisher.

 In my less confident moments, I consider I was just lucky. But then I remember what my first publisher told me when he first read my pitched pages and then promoted them to his commissioning meeting. It might not be PC but I treasure the words. ‘The chick can write.’ And the only reason I can write, I believe, is because I read. I read non-stop. And will never cease reading.

At any given time I have three books on the go: one specifically related to my current project; one other non-fiction book, whether biography or narrative, not necessarily related to my research such as a review book, or a topic I am interested in; and fiction, usually crime but I have been branching out into other fiction more recently. There is much to learn from other writers. Read and you will discover it for yourself. Your own writing will improve. Guaranteed.

 

 

 

 

 

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career

STOP PRESS! My fifth book will be going to the printers in less than a month, and the final artwork for the covers has been signed off.

 

As you know, I have been puddling around in WWII service aviation for over a decade and so Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career is a departure for me but, as with any writing project, it has been challenging and fulfilling and has opened up to me a whole new vista of Australia’s aviation history. Hopefully it will highlight a new perspective of that history to others who were not aware that women played their own significant part in it, and who do not know of Lores Bonney’s place it in.

 

And what did Lores Bonney achieve? (BTW: the name is pronounced Lo-ri.)  

 

Lores Bonney’s aerial achievements were remarkable; in her day she was regarded as perhaps Australia’s most competent aviatrix. In 1931, she set a new Australian record for a one-day flight by a woman. In 1932, she became the first woman to circumnavigate mainland Australia by air. In 1933, she was acknowledged as the first woman to fly from Australia to England. She made the first solo flight from Australia to Cape Town, South Africa, in 1937. This was to be her last long-distance expedition.

 

The former airwoman donated a considerable archive to Sydney’s Powerhouse Museum in 1984. She withheld some items and, in 2011, her goddaughter gifted them to the National Library of Australia. ‘MS 10127 Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney’ includes correspondence with the Civil Aviation Branch of the Department of Defence, objects associated with the aviatrix’s flying career, news clippings and photos, scrapbooks, trophies, and even a flying suit and cap.

 

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career is based on these two collections and, in particular, the most significant items in the National Library’s collection: the diaries Lores kept preceding and during her 1933 and 1937 flights.

 

I love it when covers tell a story and there is much more to this than just the image of a seemingly confident aviatrix. As you can see, Lores is standing in front of an array of radiant beams of light. They don’t just mirror her great smile. They directly relate to a potentially fatal flying accident.

 

Just before that accident (and you will have to read the book to find out about the actual accident) a photo was taken of Lores in flight. Afterwards, a friend commented that it ‘seems to show light rays from above meeting in an aura of brightness behind the pilot’s head in the cockpit. Moments later you were lucky to be still living’. Lores was deeply religious and often claimed that God flew as her co-pilot. Her friend wondered if the halo had anything to do with him. Perhaps it did. Looking back on it, Lores considered that the ‘only thing … which saved us both from being killed was that it was not our time to go’.

 

 

So, here is a sneak preview of the cover art for Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career which is due out in March 2016. Compare it with the photo taken before the accident. I think you will see the inspiration for part of the cover design.

 

I will advise full details of the book here in due course! Just try and stop me!