Lynne Olson - A Question of Honor: The Kosciuszko Squadron: Forgotten Heroes of World War II

Witold Urbanowicz (VEE-told oor-ba-NO-veech)

Prologue

THEY MARCHED, twelve abreast and in perfect step, through the heart of bomb-pocked London. American troops, who were in a place of honor at the head of the nine-mile parade, were followedin a kaleidoscope of uniforms, flags, and martial musicby Czechs and Norwegians, Chinese and Dutch, French and Iranians, Belgians and Australians, Canadians and South Africans. There were Sikhs in turbans, high-stepping Greek evzoni in pom-pommed shoes and white pleated skirts, Arabs in fezzes and kaffiyehs, grenadiers from Luxembourg, gunners from Brazil. And at the end of the parade, in a crowd-pleasing, Union Jackwaving climax, came at least 10,000 men and women from the armed forces and civilian services of His Britannic Majesty, King George VI.

Nearly a year earlier, the most terrible war in the history of the worldsix years of fire, devastation, and unimaginable deathhad finally ended. At the time there had been wild, spontaneous celebrations in cities all over the globe. But on this grey and damp June day in 1946, Britain and its invited guests, representing more than thirty victorious Allied nations, joined in formal commemoration of their collective victory and of those, living and dead, who had contributed to it. As church bells pealed and bagpipes skirled, veterans of Tobruk, the Battle of Britain, Guadalcanal, Midway, Normandy, the Ardennes, Monte Cassino, Arnhem, and scores of less famous fights were cheered and applauded by more than 2 million onlookers, many waving flags and tooting toy trumpets. The marchers snapped off salutes as they passed the reviewing platform on the Mall, where the king, his queen, and their two daughters stood. Prime Minister Clement Attlee was alongside the royal family, but the attention of many was focused on Attlees predecessor, Winston Churchill, who had led and inspired Britain through the final five years of the war.

As the Victory Parades last contingents marched by, a thunderous roar was heard overhead. The crowds stared up at the leaden sky, transfixed, as a massive armada of aircraftbombers, fighters, flying boats, transportsapproached from the east at nearly rooftop level. Leading the fly-past was a single, camouflaged fightera Hawker Hurricane, looking small and insignificant compared to the lumbering giants that flew in its wake. The Hurricanes pride of place, however, was unchallenged. If it had not been for this sturdy little single-seater and its more celebrated cousin, the Spitfire, the Victory Parade and the triumph it celebrated might never have occurred. In the summer and fall of 1940, RAF pilots had flown Hurricanes and Spitfires against Adolf Hitlers Luftwaffe and had won the Battle of Britain. In so doing, they changed the course of the war and the very nature of history.