Poetry Blog No 26

The Battle of Britain

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A few Sundays ago, on 18 September, St Marys Church Banbury was privileged to host the annual Battle of Britain service.  This is an important part of the civic role of the church, and we welcome the opportunity to remember with deep gratitude the efforts of those brave airman in protecting the freedom of this land. It is also a time, of course, to reflect on matters of peace and the loss of life that was incurred.

The Battle of Britain was an aerial fight above the skies of southern England and took place in the late summer and autumn of 1940.  It was between the RAF and Fleet Air Arm, supported by exiled Polish and Canadians pilots, and the German Luftwaffe.

The British officially recognise the battle's duration as being from 10 July to 31 October 1940, and Battle of Britain Day as September 15. This overlaps with the Blitz that lasted from 7 September 1940 to 11 May 1941 and for German historians the battle was a single campaign lasting from July 1940 to June 1941.

I grew up in Folkestone in the post war period. During the war years this was part of the so-called “Hellfire corner” and I saw some of the destruction that had been wreaked. Folkestone – Hawkinge had been an important RAF airfield, and Spitfires were not an uncommon sight up to the 1950’s. This site is now the Kent Battle of Britain Museum.

For this blog I have chosen three poems.

Two were written by a young Anglo-American pilot who lost his life in war and one by a Battle of Britain pilot who died in 2012 and was known as the oldest Battle of Britain Pilot.

First the Anglo-American, John Gillespie Magee Jr. Magee was born in Nankeen China; his mother was British, his father American and parents were Anglican missionaries. His schooling started at an American School in China, followed by a Preparatory school in Walmer, Kent then Rugby in Warwickshire, and finally at a school in the USA. Aged 18 he was expected to go to Yale University, but instead joined the Canadian Airforce and came to Britain to fight in WW2. He didn’t fight in the actual Battle of Britain but was a pilot in part of the Battle for Britain. He died in a mid-air collision on 11 December 1941, aged 19.

He did have real aspirations to be a poet and he left a legacy of High Flight and Per Ardua.

High Flight was written on August 16 1941. Inspired by a high-altitude test flight of the new Spitfire V, the poem captured the joy and awe of flying and the pilot's ability to soar into the heavens to almost touch "the face of God.". Perhaps the closing words were   inspired in some way by his Christian upbringing. This poem is read every year at the St Mary’s service either by a serving or retired officer.

High Flight by John Gillespie Magee

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air…

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew –
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

After his first combat flight on 8 November 1941, Magee penned what might have been his final poem, 'Per Ardua', and dedicated it to the pilots who flew in the Battle of Britain.

Per Ardua by John Gillespie Magee
(To those who gave their lives to England during the Battle of Britain and left such a shining example to us who follow, these lines are dedicated.)

"They that have climbed the white mists of the morning;
They that have soared, before the world's awake,
To herald up their foeman to them, scorning
The thin dawn's rest their weary folk might take;
Some that have left other mouths to tell the story
Of high, blue battle, quite young limbs that bled,
How they had thundered up the clouds to glory,
Or fallen to an English field stained red.
Because my faltering feet would fail I find them
Laughing beside me, steadying the hand
That seeks their deadly courage –
Yet behind them
The cold light dies in that once brilliant Land ....
Do these, who help the quickened pulse run slowly,
Whose stern, remembered image cools the brow,
Till the far dawn of Victory, know only
Night's darkness, and Valhalla's silence now?"


The third poem was written by Flight Lieutenant William Walker to coincide with the opening of the Battle of Britain Memorial, Capel le Ferne, just north of Folkestone on the North Downs. The location was well chosen with its commanding views across the English Channel. The monument includes a sculpture of an airman looking out to see, a replica Spitfire and a Memorial wall. On a special plinth in this wall are inscribed the words of Walker’s poem. This was in July 2010 on the 70^th Anniversary of the Battle of Britain

William Walker was born in Hampstead England on 24 August 1913 and started a career in brewing.  He was called up and was one of “The Few”, who fought in the Battle of Britain. On demobilisation he returned to this brewing and eventually became the Chairman of Ind Coope and Allsopp in Burton-on-Trent. On retirement he started writing poetry. The Memorial poetry is a simple, but poignant, statement of the bravery of the few, who flew in the campaign.

Walker died on 21 October 2012, age 99, having suffered a stroke three days earlier 

'Our Wall' by William Walker

Here inscribed the names of friends we knew,
Young men with whom we often flew.
Scrambled to many angels high,
They knew that they or friends might die.
Many were very scarcely trained,
And many badly burnt or maimed.
Behind each name a story lies
Of bravery in summer skies;
Though many brave unwritten tales
Were simply told in vapour trails.
Many now lie in sacred graves
And many rest beneath the waves.
Outnumbered every day they flew,
Remembered here as just 'The Few'.

These poems do not glorify that specific battle or, indeed, war itself, but offer thanksgiving and evoke the principles of freedom and peace.

The achievements of the few, supported by many, are an integral part of our national spirit and extol the virtues of service and sacrifice.

Contributed by Roger Verrall, 3 October 2021