Moggridge - Spitfire girl : my life in the sky

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To Reg,

You are my love, and my delight,
You are the thrill I find so sweet,
Wrapped in your arms I am complete.

1945

Earth, why should I return to you?

The sky is such a lovely blue;

Oh Earth, why should I return to you?

1940

My mother Jackie was like two women in one: artistic, romantic, forgetful and disorganised, but when she climbed into an aeroplane she became focused, calm and very capable not my mother at all! She loved many things: singing, dancing, sewing and painting, but her main passion in life was flying. Up in the sky is where she belonged.

On Saturday mornings, my little sister Candy and I would jump into our mothers bed and sit beneath the billowing duvet the clouds and play at being Spitfire pilots. As we held the pretend joystick she would say, just think right and it will go right, the Spitfire is so sensitive it should always be flown by a lady. Candy remembered those duvet lessons fifty years later when she went up in Spitfire ML407, an aircraft Jackie had been the first to ferry, now owned by our great friend Carolyn Grace, who has kindly written the Afterword for this edition.

My mothers life of adventure began in South Africa, where she was brought up to be a good, prim Catholic girl by her grandmother, whom she adored. Although these codes stayed with her forever, she had a very open mind and a strong will. If she didnt agree with a teaching of the church shed just say, well, a man made that rule up, not God, so you can ignore that one.

From her first flight at fifteen, Jackie was hooked. When I was born, in 1946, she was determined to continue working just as a man would have done. Theres mummy dear, our father would say as he pointed to an aircraft in the sky. For years after I was convinced all aeroplanes were called Mummy Dears.

Even though Jackie flew aircraft for the ATA during World War Two, she still struggled to find work once peace was declared. Of course this got her down, but she refused to feel defeated, taking any and every opportunity to stay in the sky. So, from the age of about two, I would be strapped onto the back of her motorbike and sped off to various local airfields, singing all the way. When she was working for Channel Airways in the late 1950s, she would often sneak me onto the plane along with the other passengers. If there was no seat to spare, shed just plonk me down in the doorway between cabin and cockpit hang health and safety!

The summer I turned fourteen I joined her up in Perthshire where she was flying aircraft for Meridian Air Maps. Jackie was sick as a dog, but she wasnt ill, she was pregnant. Somehow she managed to hide it from everyone. She continued to work right up until Candy was born, two months early, never letting on she was expecting. Amazingly, she was back flying again six months later.

Growing up, Candy and I knew our mother was unusual, but we didnt realise how exceptional she was until much later. Its a credit to her that she always remained mummy first and foremost, but like all children we sometimes found our mother excruciatingly embarrassing. I remember turning up terribly late for my first day at boarding school as Jackie had been flying all day. Into the school we burst, my mother in her Captains uniform, closely followed by an airline hostess who was hitching a ride home with us. I was mortified, but everyone just assumed Jackie was a bus conductress. Candy didnt escape either, she had to suffer the pain of turning up at school every day in a horrid, bright blue helmet on the back of Jackies Honda motorbike. Although she begged to be left at the end of the road, she was always dropped right in front of the school gates, for all to see.

My father, Reg, was the quiet strength behind Jackie. He fully supported her need to fly and was immensely proud of her achievements. They met at a dance in 1940 but the war kept them apart for most of their courtship and early married life. Like many lovebirds of their time they had to rely on letters. Jackie would often tell the story of how she attached a love letter for Reg to her 2oz bar of ration chocolate and dropped it from her aircraft as she flew over Aylesbury where he was posted at the time. Tied to her parcel was a note telling the finder to keep the chocolate, but please deliver the letter to Reg Moggridge! He always received his post.

Re-reading this book has made both of us appreciate, more than ever, the amazing things our mother achieved in what was, very much, a mans world. Jackie absolutely loathed housework and, at times, the dull routine of being a housewife would get her down. She just didnt think she was any good at it. She would rant and rave whilst wrestling with the washing-up saying, dont ever get married dear, youll have to cook and clean for the rest of your life, but, as soon as it was done shed become her cheerful self again.

It was in the sky that Jackie felt most capable. She was a loving and caring wife, mother and grandmother on the ground, and a vivacious, talented pilot in the air. She taught us to look at the clouds, the moon and the sunset: to take the time to rejoice in things and not just rush on by.

Not long before she died, Jackie was driving to visit me in central London when she was stopped by two young police officers for driving too slowly round Hyde Park Corner. If only they knew how brave and daring she really was, and what a hero shed been during the war! We hope, by reading her book, youll get an inkling of just how remarkable our mother, Captain Jackie Moggridge, really was.

Veronica Jill Robinson (ne Moggridge)

with Candida Adkins (ne Moggridge)