RAF hero, 102, soars again with flight in Spitfire
Former bomber pilot, who served in Second World War, becomes oldest person to fly the fighter
It’s almost impossible for younger generations to imagine the skies being filled with the roar of Spitfires, let alone fathom the idea of signing up to go to war.
Jack Hemmings doesn’t recall feeling frightened when he joined the RAF in 1940 at 18 – he trusted that the training he had received would prepare him for whatever the Second World War threw at him.
Going to war “made me grow up a bit I suppose”, said Mr Hemmings, a former RAF squadron leader, who yesterday became the oldest person to fly a Spitfire, at 102.
A bomber pilot during the Second World War, he was stationed in Kolkata with 353 Squadron to protect the Bay of Bengal and the coast of Burma – as it was then known – until 1946, and received the Air Force Cross for “exemplary gallantry while flying”.
This year will mark 80 years since the Battle of Kohima – the turning point of the Japanese offensive into India, where Mr Hemmings was stationed. He is one of only two remaining members of his squadron.
Last month, Gen Sir Patrick Sanders, the Chief of the General Staff, implored ministers to “mobilise the nation”, suggesting the country’s defences could be strengthened by bringing back conscription, which was suspended in 1960.
What could younger generations learn from Mr Hemmings? “Who’s to say that our generation was any better than theirs?” he said, speaking at Biggin Hill airfield, in Kent, before his flight. “But, by and large, I think the present generation are a bit scatty.”
He added: “Going to war, your mind is concentrating on what you’re doing, which is your part in the war. You apply your mind to your task and do it as well as you can.”
As the Spitfire roared into life yesterday, you could feel the power of its Merlin engine. But as soon as you take off, Mr Hemmings said, there is a great sense of peace that comes with being airborne. “Once you’re off the ground and away from controlled airspace, the sky is yours,” he said. “You get all sorts of emotions.”
It has been 84 years since Mr Hemmings, now a grandfather of three, first took to the skies.
He might not have been fazed by much at 18, but at 102, you could have forgiven him for being daunted by the prospect of clambering into a cockpit and taking to the skies.
However, as soon as he received the signal to board, he bounded out of his wheelchair and strode towards the aircraft in his khaki flying suit with the vim and vigour of a man at least 20 years younger. Yesterday’s
‘Who’s to say that our generation was any better than theirs? But I think the present generation are a bit scatty’
flight was by no means the first time in 80 years Mr Hemmings had been airborne. He bought a small aircraft after his retirement and, on his 100th birthday in 2021, performed an aerobatic display in a Slingsby Firefly – a surprise gift from his wife, Kate.
In 2022, he flew a 1947 Gemini – the same model he had taken to Africa in 1948 in what was the first British mission to assess humanitarian needs in isolated communities dotted across the continent.
Setting out with a map, a compass and only the River Nile as their guide, he and his friend Stuart King, who had been at D-day, visited more than 100 mission outposts separated from vital resources by jungles and deserts. They crashed on a mountainside in Burundi, a moment Mr Hemmings – who once nicknamed himself “Crasher Jack” – remembers vividly.
“The surprising thing was we smacked the ground at 100 miles an hour, into a totally undeveloped hillside,” he said. “We could have gone straight into an enormous boulder or tree but we went into rough ground and didn’t burst into flames and the lid in the door opened quite simply.
“Neither of us was injured except I had a bruise on my thigh where it hit the throttle and Stuart had a cut on his little finger.”
They founded Mission Aviation Fellowship, the world’s largest humanitarian air service, which still delivers aid and medical help in low-income countries.
Coming into land after his 30-minute flight, Mr Hemmings wore a look of pure contentment on his face.
His co-pilot, Barry Hughes, had handed over the controls mid-flight. “I don’t think he’s lost his touch,” he said.
How did Mr Hemmings find it? “Absolutely delightful,” he said. “Slightly heavier than I expected. We were flying at about 210 knots, which is faster than I used to fly in my Air Force days.
“I was a bit rusty. Not surprisingly, as I am rusty.”