Suzanne Campbell-Jones - No Ordinary Pilot: One young man’s extraordinary exploits in World War II

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As circumstance would have it, I write this foreword whilst deployed on combat operations with the RAF in 1(Fighter) Squadron. It was not lost on me that the current cohort of 1(F) Squadron fighter pilots are again engaged in the application of airpower in close support of ground units amazingly, flying Typhoons, as Bob Allen did in June and July 1944, just before his path took a catastrophic and shocking turn.

Every fighter pilot is hugely influenced by, and maintains a special bond with, their first frontline squadron Bobs experience on 1(F) Squadron is certainly no different. His time with the Squadron would provide him with the best preparation he could have hoped for to help him through the incredible, life-or-death challenges he would come to face.

A great deal has been written about the exceptional achievements of RAF fighter pilots in World War II. Indeed, there is even a significant volume of work dedicated to the exploits of No. 1 Squadron. However, not only are the gripping tales of courage and skill in this wonderful account worthy of a place alongside the best and most famous biographies, it brilliantly sheds light on the broader challenges of attempting to lead a normal life in the midst of extraordinary happenings. It provides a fascinating insight into a young family attempting to survive and grow in the way that any newlyweds would hope to do showing how love can blossom even in the darkest of times, in absence and in despair.

As the Commanding Officer of an RAF frontline squadron, I pray that no person under my command should experience even a fraction of the extreme situations that Bob Allen did. Several generations later, it is hard to fathom the scale of destruction and misery that global conflict inflicted, nor the harsh realities for the countless families and individuals caught in the grip of war as they tried to play their part, or attempted simply to survive.

I have no doubt that you will find Bobs story as inspiring, gripping and moving as I have. He was a man who displayed courage, strength and compassion in adversity and a man who was loved and respected. Through her fathers story, Suzanne Campbell-Jones has masterfully shown that in wartime there is no such thing as an ordinary pilot a statement which certainly applies to Group Captain Bob Allen.

Wing Commander Chris Hoyle
OC 1(Fighter) Squadron

We were in Paris. A spring day in 1970. My father, Bob Allen, looked up at the glass roof of the Gare de lEst and surprised us. The last time I was here I was trying to escape. We were full of questions but he would not elaborate. We had always known that he was a fighter pilot in World War II, decorated, a man who loved flying, who had been a prisoner but his wartime experiences remained wrapped in silence.

Decades later, long after he had retired from a distinguished career in the RAF, one of his great-grandchildren was writing a school project on the war. He allowed her to open his black tin trunk. It was full of memorabilia, including his official flying logbook, right in the middle of which was the line KILLED WHILST ON OPERATIONS. Now, even the great-grandchildren joined in the questioning, prompting him to reveal that for family and historical reasons he had left us a memoir of his experiences between 1940 and 1945. He hoped it would give us some sense of those times when life itself was not too great a price to pay for justice and freedom. My mother, Alice Allen, had transcribed it for him and at around the same time decided to write her own account of life on the home front, bringing up baby me on her own. He presented us with copies of his memoir. He would not talk about it. The trunk was closed.

When we read Bobs memoir we realised that he had changed all the names and places. He had invented new ones for them. Why? It may have been an ingrained adherence to wartime secrecy codes or to protect the memories of his fellow officers. However, he also changed his own name and wrote the whole account in the third person, so maybe it had the effect of distancing himself from the action. He recorded events as he saw them without emotion or any attempt to overdramatise or be heroic. He did, though, make a conscious effort to be scrupulously accurate and detailed. Despite this, without real names, times and places I found it hard to follow as an historical account. There were too many unanswered questions.

It was only after I inherited the black tin trunk that I began to decode the memoir, starting with the logbook, letters and papers. Research in museums and libraries and official documents corroborated Bobs story. More than that, since as facts were released from their camouflage they revealed the wider context, political and military, that he could not have known at the time.

Bob was 19 when he left his reserved occupation as a chemist in a cement factory to join up. Within six months he was in 1 Squadron, flying a Hurricane in his first dogfight over the English Channel. He married his childhood sweetheart, Alice. Then he was sent abroad. Destination secret.

For almost two years he lived in West Africa. He earned a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) for his determined efforts flying dangerous unarmed photo-reconnaissance missions. His contribution to the protection of southern Atlantic shipping lines forms part of a largely untold story connected to the conflict in the Middle East.

Christmas 1942 found Bob back at home, meeting for the first time his one-year-old daughter and experiencing the conditions of austerity that had overtaken wartime Britain. He retrained as a fighter-bomber pilot flying Typhoons and was one of the first over the Normandy beaches on D-Day. On 25 July 1944, Bob was shot down. He leaves a vivid description of escaping from his burning plane and landing among German soldiers.

He spent the rest of the war as a POW. He was held in solitary confinement, interrogated by the Gestapo and imprisoned in the infamous Stalag Luft III until the long march in the bitter winter of 1945. In the final weeks of the war, after the Russians had liberated their camp, he and a colleague escaped. They reached the American allies at Torgau on the Elbe just days before the war in Europe was over.

No Ordinary Pilot is the story of Group Captain Robert Neil Greig Allen, CBE, DFC (19202008) who went to war and came home with extraordinary memories that he kept to himself for more than 50 years. Its sources are threefold: Bobs matter-of-fact account of adventures in unlikely foreign places; Alices more emotive account of life at home; and my own more academic research, which included visiting locations. It is the story of one mans war in a global conflict. In wartime there is no such person as an ordinary pilot.

Two tall lads, pale faced, slipped their shoulders beneath the coffin. Men from the undertakers understood, gave them a chance to feel the weight of their Grandad Bob. Their great-grandfather. They carried history with them as they left the high-vaulted church accompanied by a solo voice singing Well Meet Again. The wartime hero was accorded proper respect, his hat and his medals on view. He had been barely older than a boy when he left home one summer day in 1940.

The Spitfire straightened out. Bob Allen: 19 years old. Aim: to be a fighter pilot. Facing off the Hun. The German enemy. Flying level is difficult for a beginner. Youll soon get the hang of it. Bob was flying solo. Not yet totally confident. Hands tense. Glancing down at a river below, he saw that he was wandering. Straighten up. Stand tall. Shine shoes. Buttons bright. It had been a tough few weeks. Now freedom. Careful. Try more speed. Thats it. Check instruments. Head for the clouds. Swing higher, higher. Pull back. The horizon disappeared and reappeared behind his head. The air began to scream. No, that would be later, later. Another time. Another country.