How the Half Moon Spitfire sparked an extraordinary tribute to The Few
As his unique Battle of Britain collection goes under the hammer today, Malcolm Pettit reveals how hearing his father’s RAF stories in childhood inspired a lifetime’s obsession
AS A BOY growing up in the wake of the Second World War, Malcolm Pettit became fascinated by the story of a young RAF pilot who crashed his Spitfire into the chicken coop of a Kentish pub garden during the dog days of the Battle of Britain. Malcolm’s father George, who died in 1993 aged 78, had been an RAF aircraft fitter and kept his son spellbound during family meals with stories of the conflict.
But this particular incident, on October 27, 1940, captured his imagination, filling his head with questions: who was the pilot?Why didn’t he bail out? And, perhaps most pertinently, did he survive? Seeking answers as he grew up would inspire an incredible collection of Battle of Britain-related relics and memorabilia due for auction today.
The flyer, Malcolm later learnt was Sergeant Pilot John “Johnnie” Romney Mather. He had died instantly when his aircraft, Spitfire P7539, plunged into the ground at the back of the Half Moon pub at Hildenborough, near Tonbridge.
Born in Blackheath in 1915, he was educated at Dulwich College. His father worked for the Tata iron and steel company in India, and the metal industry was in his blood.
Mather worked for Stewarts & Lloyds at Glasgow and then Corby, before joining the RAF volunteer reserve in 1937. He was called to full-time service at the outbreak of war and was with 66 Squadron in June 1940.
But knowing all this did nothing to assuage Malcolm’s curiosity and, in 1972, by now working as a builder and with the permission of the authorities, he led an archaeological dig in a bid to honour the 24-year-old pilot’s memory. Recovered was the doomed Spitfire’s Rolls-Royce Merlin engine, two rudder pedals, the engine starter motor and various other aircraft parts.
Mather is commemorated at St Margaret’s churchyard in Ifield, West Sussex, but Malcolm’s own story had only just begun.
The jet-black engine block – dented and cracked from impact yet instantly recognisable as one of the Second World War’s most famous aircraft motors – now forms the centrepiece of a remarkable collection.
Its discovery was the start of half a century of painstaking recoveries involving some 25 wartime aircraft in the south of England and abroad.As he recovered more relics, Malcolm built a small L-shaped barn to house them at the bottom of his suburban garden in Kent, which over time has become the Tonbridge Battle of Britain Museum Collection.
For decades, he has shown thousands of people the lovingly restored artefacts on a by-appointment basis but now, aged 77, he has put the whole lot up for auction.
“My museum has become my personal tribute to The Few, but I’m not getting any younger, so it will all be going under the hammer,” he explains.
The auction catalogue runs to 64 pages carrying an astonishing 150 lots. International collectors are already showing a keen interest. Lot 451, Mather’s Merlin engine, takes pride of place.
Resting his hands on the battered and still oily engine, Malcolm recalls: “This all began when we recovered what we call the Half Moon Spitfire. Stories from my childhood about that Spitfire remained vivid in my mind. A milkman at the time told me how he’d heard the Spitfire overhead on that Sunday morning at about 8.30am.
“He heard the bang, bang, bang from a German fighter’s cannon and then the sound of a screaming engine as the Spitfire went into a dive. It broke through the cloud and there was another Spitfire flying around it.
“I now know it was Johnnie’s Commanding Officer who was calling him on the radio, saying, ‘For God’s sake, pull out’.”
It was too late. The young pilot was slumped in the cockpit, presumably having been hit. As the CO pulled away, he saw the aircraft hit the ground in a flash.
“As we were digging about 15 feet down, there was a great clonk as the spade hit the engine. I will never forget that sound,” continues Malcolm. “It was a great feeling of relief.” He and others pulled the engine from the mud with ropes 51 years ago.
ON THE ENGINE is displayed a picture of Mather. Looking at Mather’s photo, Malcolm’s eyes moisten as he says: “We have to honour those who fought tyranny for us. These days I don’t think younger people fully understand just how brave they were. This young man died when he was 24. He had already played a major role in the Battle of Britain.
“He had shared in the destruction of two German aircraft in July 1940 and had bailed out over the Thames Estuary on September
18 when he was hit. He had shown exceptional valour, like so many of The Few.”
Later, the then Prince Charles became instrumental in securing another recovery. Sergeant Pilot Ernest Scott was shot down on September 27, 1940, and his family had been told he had gone missing at sea over The Wash. But Malcolm and fellow enthusiast, the late Al Brown, came across a Kent police report that strongly suggested Scott’s Spitfire crashed on farmland at Hollingbourne, near Maidstone, Kent.
When the farmer declined permission for Malcolm to dig, Scott’s brother Albert, wrote to Prince Charles, whose intervention led to a full recovery by the RAF.
Malcolm says: “The remains of Sergeant Scott and his Spitfire were dug out in November 1990 and the following year he was finally laid to rest with full military honours at Margate Cemetery. I attended Sergeant Scott’s funeral and met many of his old mates from 222 Squadron, even his rigger who was the last man to strap him into his cockpit and see him alive.”
Some parts of Scott’s Spitfire are up for auction, but Malcolm will not be selling a bell the dead pilot’s late brother Albert gave him to thank him for all his painstaking detective work in tracing where Ernest had crashed half a century after his death.
Also hanging from the ceiling of the museum is a buckled and bent cockpit seat, where Pilot Sergeant John Brimble had been sitting when his Hurricane was shot down in combat over Tonbridge on September 14, 1940, whilst serving with 73 Squadron.
“He came down at Parkhouse Farm, Chart Sutton, near Maidstone,” says Malcolm. “An eyewitness saw a Hurricane diving, apparently out of control, then momentarily pulling up before diving at full throttle and burying itself into a meadow.”
The aircraft was not identified at the time and partial remains were buried as an “unknown airman”. After research finally confirmed his identity, a headstone was erected at Sittingbourne.
When the site was fully excavated in 1980, further remains were found but, in consultation with Brimble’s only living relative, his brother Donald, it was decided not to disturb the Sittingbourne grave.
The other remains were buried with full military honours at Brookwood, Woking, in October 1980.
It is recoveries like these which, Malcolm believes, help give families and relatives closure over the wartime deaths of young aircrew. It also rebuts any suggestion there is something ghoulish about recovering remains and aircraft parts.
“It was very moving,” recalls Malcolm. “The reason we did the digs was to get these young lads buried. It was all done with dignity and honour. We always worked closely with families.They were grateful for what we did and the care we took at sites.”
The same care and respect was shown at sites where German fighter aircraft had been shot down.
Sitting near the centre of the museum are three bent and twisted propeller blades and a red spinner from a Messerschmitt Me 109, shot down during combat over the Thames Estuary on September 6, 1940. Nearby is a propeller from a Dornier Do 17, shot down on September 15, 1940, at Underriver, near Sevenoaks, Kent. The blades are riddled with British bullet holes.
NEARBY, in a display case, are mementoes relating to Wing Commander James Nicolson, the only Battle of Britain pilot to receive the Victoria Cross. As Flight Commander with 249 Squadron, he engaged enemy fighters over Southampton on August 16, 1940.
Wounded in the left foot and with a Perspex splinter in one eye, he was preparing to abandon his burning Hurricane but, when an Me 110 appeared, he slid back into his seat.
Engulfed in flames, he fired at the enemy aircraft until the very last moment, finally bailing out at 12,000 feet. As he parachuted he was shot in the buttock by British forces. He recovered from the injuries but died on another mission in India in 1945 after receiving hisVC.
A letter from his widow, Muriel, is up for auction along with a penny which was in his pocket when he was shot down over Hampshire. Malcolm was also given relics from the Hurricane flown by Group Captain Peter Townsend, romantically linked to Princess Margaret after the war. Townsend bailed out over Hawkhurst, Kent, and later needed surgery to remove a big toe which had been hit by cannon fire.
Malcolm’s wife Marilyn, 73, daughter Francine, 56, and grandson Liam, 27, who have all helped him amass the collection over the decades, are preparing for a bit of emotional fall out. “It will be a sad day but we are ready for it,” says Marilyn stoically.
Henry Meadows of Dominic Winter Auctioneers says: “It is a once-in-a-lifetime auction.The collection is exceptional.”
No one really knows how much will be raised by today’s auction, but there are reserves on lots. For Malcolm, all the items are priceless, artefacts from the aerial conflict that determined the fate of this country.
As to what he will do with the money, he says simply, “Retire.”
But those who know him think that’s unlikely, especially if he hears of another potential site to dig to honour the memory of The Few.