Honorary Australian in the Battle of Britain. 31 August 1940. James Coward

31 August 1940 was a huge day for Fighter Command. The Luftwaffe launched a massive offensive that lasted from about 8.00 in the morning to about 7.00 in the evening, and resulted in nine killed/missing and 41 Hurricanes and Spitfires either written off or lost at sea.

Fighter Command had already successfully dealt with two early morning formations of bombers when another attacked Debden airfield with little opposition, dropping over 100 bombs. The Heinkels and Dorniers were on their way back to France when, at about 8.30 a.m., they ran into 19 Squadron, who had been scrambled to intercept.

Flying Officer James Coward, in Spitfire X4231, saw a Dornier and lined up for a ‘beautiful shot’ but, he later recalled, ‘when I pressed the firing button absolutely nothing happened’. His guns had jammed. Then, ‘I suddenly felt a hard kick on the shin. I looked round and I saw my bare foot sitting on the rudder pedal’. His shoe and sock had disappeared; his foot was hanging by the ligaments. He didn’t have time to think about the pain because his Spitfire was diving out of control. ‘I was sucked out of the cockpit and my parachute got caught and I was trapped. I was dragged back along the fuselage, my trousers had blown off and my foot was banging around my knee’. He pulled the ripcord and found himself alone in the sky. As he descended, he remembered experiencing ‘the most wonderful feeling of peace until I suddenly looked down and saw my blood pumping out red spurts’.

James used his helmet wireless lead to tie a tourniquet to staunch the blood—this saved his life. He landed and was accosted by a young lad with a pitchfork who thought he was a German. After some choice language on James’s part that clearly verified his British ancestry, a doctor was called and he was whisked to hospital. After surgery where his left leg was amputated below the knee, he awoke to find his heavily pregnant wife at his bedside. He did not dwell on something that would have brought a lesser man down. Legend has it that his first words to his wife were, ‘Hallo Cinnie. I’ll never play Rugger again’. He didn’t. But he enjoyed a very good RAF career, was awarded the AFC in 1954 and retired as an Air Commodore to Australia in 1969. He was an energetic skier and Scottish dancer, enjoying both past times until well into his 90s.