Australians in the Battle of Britain. 26 October 1940. Bill Millington

Australians in the Battle of Britain. 26 October 1940. Bill Millington

Bill Millington flew again on 26 October but, after the excitement of the day before, there was nothing of note to report. And given that that is the case yet again, I want to talk about Bill Millington as a ‘knight of the air’; a man of chivalry.

During the Great War, the first aerial combatants were vaunted as ‘knights of the air’ who carried out chivalrous deeds to foe and comrade alike. Films, such as Knights of the Air and Dawn Patrol were made and memoirs and biographies were published, all influencing the next generation of fighter pilots who were, indeed, considered the legitimate heirs of the Great War aerial knights.

Bill was one who saw Dawn Patrol, considered by at least one commentator to have done more to influence the image of the aerial knight in the eyes of a younger generation, to be a ‘very good show’. But, although he had wanted to fly from a young age, he was less influenced by the Great War pilots than by Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell, hero of the siege of Mafeking, Great War soldier, founder of the scout movement, and member of latter day chivalric orders The Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George, Royal Victorian Order and The Most Honourable Order of the Bath.

 

Bill joined the scout movement, graduating from cubs, to scout, to rover, and won many achievement badges. His personal creed was based on the strong moral principles enshrined in scout law.

Pilots of the Battle of Britain, in particular, were presented as scions of chivalry and Bill, for one, lived up to this unasked-for appellation.

In June 1940, he had yet to fly his first operational sortie but he knew the dangers of battle and wanted to salve his family’s grief should he not return from combat. And so he wrote a farewell letter. As well as offering comfort to his parents, Bill clearly stated the principles by which he lived his life—‘Freedom, Honour and Fair Play’—and how he wanted to prosecute his war. ‘Since leaving home I have endeavoured to live up to those standards dictated by Honour and Chivalry, and am sure that I have not failed you’.

And he did live up to his ideals.

On 31August 1940, Bill and his section were tasked with aerodrome guard duties when fifteen Dornier Do 215s escorted by large numbers of Messerschmitt Me 109s and 110s were sighted. Bill attacked, setting alight the port engine of one of the Dorniers. Three Me 109s then attacked him. He damaged one and shook off the other two. He was on his own by that stage but attacked the bombers again and was beset by another two Me 109s. He shook off one and shot the other down. In doing so he was attacked by another Me109 and was wounded in the left thigh. His engine started to burn and flames licked his skin.

As the flames caught hold, Bill had two choices but his decision was obvious. ‘I considered it unwise to bale out’, he later explained, ‘as my machine would probably have crashed into a small village’. Bill’s Hurricane plummetted in flames and, ‘covered in blood and grease’ he ‘managed to scramble out before the machine exploded’.

Bill received the award of an immediate Distinguished Flying Cross for this action, including specifically his valiant deed:

‘Despite the fact that he was wounded by cannon shrapnel in the left thigh, Millington chose to make a crash landing rather than abandon his aircraft and let it fall in flames into a village which was in front of him.’

Asked about his dangerous and apparently foolhardy action of continuing his attack on the bombers, he later said ‘what is one fighter compared with a German bomber’.

This was the sort of young man Bill Millington was. A man of ideals, chivalry, and the personal commitment to live up to his values. A fine, upstanding man. And he was a d@mned good fighter pilot.