Philip Kaplan - Fighter Aces of the RAF in the Battle of Britain

T here was something special about the airmen of New Zealand who flew and fought in the Royal Air Force during the Second World War. They seemed to have a special spirit, a special level of dedication and commitment to the cause at hand, a special kind of toughness, and a special set of standards they applied to their work the elimination of the enemy air forces ability to make war against the Allies. And of these New Zealanders, Air Commodore Alan C. Deere was extra-special.

Deere was one of many young men on the Pacific Rim who saw the world war coming before most people did and followed the dictates of his adventurous nature and his sense of responsibility half way around the world to England in 1937. There he enlisted and began flight training in the RAF and, by the start of the Battle of Britain in July of 1940, was an experienced flight commander in No. 54 Squadron stationed at Hornchurch in Essex, east of London.

Al Deere was born in Auckland in December 1917. His childhood was spent in rural Westport at the foot of New Zealands Southern Alps. It was there that he and two of his five brothers saw their first aeroplane, a tiny silver biplane that flew over one day and landed on a wide stretch of beach four miles from their home. The boys ran the four miles to where the plane sat surrounded by curious locals, most of whom, like themselves, had never seen an aeroplane up close before. They pressed forward to stare into the cockpit, fascinated by the simple instrument panel and the control stick. Eight-year-old Alan made up his mind that day that he would become a pilot.

He grew up there in the wild, rugged bush country of New Zealands west coast, enjoying the areas marvellous opportunities for fishing, boating and swimming. When he was twelve his family moved to Wanganui, a city on the west coast of the North Island. There he turned from the boyhood pleasures of his rural upbringing, which had shaped and toughened his character and developed his sense of independence and adventure, to focus on academics. During this time Wanganui was visited by the pioneering aviator Sir Charles Kingsford-Smith in his tri-plane, the Southern Cross. Kingsford-Smith had inspired people everywhere with his record-breaking flights across the Tasman Sea and was then touring New Zealand and giving brief passenger flights at 10 shillings per person. For this thrill young Alan eagerly paid his money: The great day arrived, and it is impossible to describe my thoughts as the aircraft became airborne. My dreams had come true. Suffice it to say that the seed sown in that summer nine years earlier had been fertilized, and was to grow through the ensuing years until it finally came to bloom in far-away England in the winter of 1937.

He was encouraged in his ambition by Kendrick Christie, the Deere family doctor. Christie, a qualified pilot, told Alan about the opportunities then developing in the Royal Air Force for interested young men and when it was announced in the local newspapers that the RAF was about to enter a large expansion programme, Alan was among the first New Zealanders to apply. But knowing that his father would oppose his joining and would almost certainly refuse to add his required signature to the application, Alan persuaded his mother to sign it. She reluctantly agreed and his father didnt learn of the application until Alan received official notification that he was to attend an RAF selection board. The board consisted of three air force officers, one being Wing Commander the Hon. R.A. Cochrane (later Air Chief Marshal), as chairman. Alan was well qualified academically, was a star athlete in rugby, cricket, and boxing, and was very keen to fly. His interview went well and within weeks he was on his way to England for pilot training with eleven other eager Kiwis, all aged between eighteen and twenty-one and all, like himself, leaving their country for the first time.

Several weeks later the S.S. Rangitane (later to be sunk by a German raider), anchored in the mouth of the Thames, and the sight of the heavily-laden barges riding low in the water, the passenger vessels and the grimy coasters, brought to Alans mind the John Masefield lines: