Tom Neil - Scramble: The Dramatic Story of a Young Fighter Pilots Experiences During the Battle of Britain and the Siege of Malta

To my wife, who also served, and who was much more capable on the ground than ever I was in the air; and my three sons, who should at least know something of these events.

The illustrations are copyright of the author unless otherwise stated. Illustrations 74 & 75 Jonathan Reeve. The publishers would like to thank David Reeve for his assistance in the publication of this book.

This edition first published 2015

Amberley Publishing
The Hill, Stroud
Gloucestershire, GL5 4EP

www.amberley-books.com

Copyright Tom Neil 2015

The right of Tom Neil to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

ISBN 9781445649511 (PRINT)
ISBN 9781445649528 (eBOOK)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Typeset in 11pt on 14.5pt Sabon.
Typesetting by Amberley Publishing.

Printed in the UK.

On a wonderfully warm and summery July evening back in 2007, the Battle of Britain Fighter Association held their Sunset Dinner at Bentley Priory in Stanmore in north-west London. This lovely Georgian mansion, perched on a hill overlooking much of the city, was the former Headquarters of RAF Fighter Command. It was from where Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding had created the worlds first fully co-ordinated air defence system in the late 1930s; it was also where he had commanded the Battle of Britain. And once the Luftwaffe had been beaten and the invasion scare had diminished, the house continued to be the base of Fighter Command for the rest of the war, and beyond that, remained one of the RAFs principal command posts. Now, however, more than sixty years after the end of the war, it was about to be sold off by the MOD.

The Battle of Britain Fighter Association was open to any pilot or aircrew who had flown in the battle, and in the years that followed the war, Bentley Priory was regularly used as a venue for gatherings. It was, in many ways, the spiritual home of these men, so the Sunset Dinner was bound to be a particularly poignant evening. Many of The Few had long since departed, but there were a good number there that evening, and not least Tom Neil, who, although recovering from a hip replacement and temporarily in a wheelchair, was in good spirits. Certainly, with his thick wave of white hair and mischievous eyes, and looking impeccable in his black tie and row of medals, he still managed to cut a dash and sit ramrod straight, even though he was a few days shy of eighty-seven.

Many who lived through the war years had extraordinary experiences and performed incredible feats of valour, and this was certainly true of Tom, who finished the war with no less than fourteen aerial victories to his name. This made him almost a triple ace, and to put this in some perspective, less than five percent of fighter pilots scored the magic five required to become an ace. Those who shot down more than ten were considerable fewer than that; Tom has fourteen to his name, putting him amongst the most successful Allied fighter pilots of the war. As I write this, he is Britains highest-scoring living ace.

He was also twice awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, given for valour, as well as an Air Force Cross and the US Bronze Star. None of these medals were handed out lightly. He flew throughout the Battle of Britain, in the Siege of Malta, and in June 1944, whilst serving with the Americans, was among the very first fighter pilots to land back in France. Later, he continued to put himself in the face of danger by becoming a test pilot - a notoriously hazardous and often lethal occupation.

I had first met Tom some years before while I was researching the Siege of Malta. He had been a Hurricane pilot out there in 1941 and so had suggested I visit him at his home in Norfolk. His wife, Eileen, was every bit as charming as he, and they both still had wonderfully sparky banter with each other. Tom was Neil whenever she was attempting to be stern with him; she, on the other hand, was Flight Officer a reference not only to her days in the WAAF during the war, but also to her lower rank than his own.

In all my conversations, Tom has never been anything other than sparkling company. Like many from that greatest generation, he is always self-effacing, and the humour is never far away; the glint of amusement can usually be seen in his eyes. He is also always erudite and perceptive. These traits, combined with my own awe for his achievements, make him sensationally good company. Time with Tom is always a treat.

At Bentley Priory that evening in July 2007, there were drinks and then we were ushered out onto the balcony to watch the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight perform a fly-past. One Hurricane and one Spitfire flew over then began twirling and dancing around the sky and I then glanced down to see Tom, still in his wheelchair, stuck behind one of the famous stone pillars and unable to see anything of this display.

Do you want me to move you? I asked him.

Toms eyes twinkled. Dont worry, he said. I know what they look like.

That was certainly true enough, and by the time he left Malta in December 1941, he had seen enough of Hurricanes to last him a lifetime. There is no doubt that it was a fine fighter aircraft in its day and performed very well during the Battle of Britain, but even by 1940, it was becoming obsolescent. By the time Tom arrived on Malta in the summer of 1941, it was being woefully outclassed by the latest Messerschmitt 109s. Tom and his beleaguered colleagues, stuck on that island battling overwhelming enemy bombers and fighters, as well as intense heat, mosquitoes, dysentery and insufficient supplies of food and drink, needed the latest Spitfire Mk Vs, which at the time were filling squadrons back home in Britain with some abundance. This was blindingly obvious to all the pilots, but as far as Tom was concerned, not enough was being done to get them to Malta. So angry and frustrated was he that when the Air-Vice Marshal Lloyd, the Air Officer Commanding, Malta, suggested a bad workman blamed his tools, Tom got very near to punching him in the face. Tom left the island with a sense of enormous relief that he was still alive - it was a miracle that he was and with the determination never to set foot on Malta ever again.

That didnt happen. Age mellowed him and he has since returned to the island numerous times, and, of course, has written his wonderfully honest and vivid account of his time there during the war. His chapters about Malta, as with the rest of his writing, are suffused with his own voice; reading his words, one can hear him saying them.

If Tom has spent much of his retirement thinking and writing about those wartime years, it is hardly surprising. He was just eighteen when he joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve and still only nineteen for much of the Battle of Britain. Most young men in Britain today spend their late teens and early twenties living a life free of most responsibilities; when I look back on my own life as a young adult it is embarrassing how feckless and hopeless I was. Yet Tom was flying for his life, and for Britains future. The responsibility on his shoulders was enormous. Being involved in the biggest global conflict in the history of the world, and to have seen what he witnessed, unquestionably had a profound and lasting effect.