Plane Jane

As I was missing Dad a lot this evening, I looked around my home for something he had given me which had a special meaning for both of us.

Mum told me at the weekend that he had added a year to his age in 1941 in order to enlist with the RAF and do his bit for the war effort.  Luckily for me he wasn't selected to be trained as a pilot, as he would almost certainly have perished during the war and I wouldn't now exist.  Instead, his skills as a carpenter and joiner were put to good use and he was sent around the world to help in the construction of radar stations and aerodromes in places such as the Azores, Egypt, Italy and the Aleutian Islands, eventually earning his promotion to Corporal.  He never did learn to fly.  But I did, and gained a Private Pilot's Licence in 1995.  Mum and Dad gave me this tiny solid silver aeroplane - with a wingspan of just 5cm and a moving propellor and wheels - to mark my achievement.  It's a SPAD World War I biplane, though I flew the Cessna 152 which was probably a lot more comfortable and definitely much less draughty.