In his famous “finest hour” speech, Winston Churchill anticipated that England would be the next front of the European war after the fall of France. He foresaw that control of the skies would determine German success or failure, and so he declared: “I look forward confidently to the exploits of our fighter pilots—these splendid men, this brilliant youth—who will have the glory of saving their native land, their island home, and all they love, from the most deadly of all attacks” (18 June 1940). While an extensive record of scholarly and popular literature exists on the operational dimensions of the Royal Air Force (RAF) in World War II, Martin Francis points out that very little attention has been paid to the cultural aspects of the image of the men who fought in the skies. Though not specifically a military history, The Flyer does offer answers to questions about the relationship between the soldier and society. When one separates the myth of the flyer from the reality of war, Francis observes that the practitioners of air warfare reflected the larger gender, cultural, and class issues that underlay British society in the twentieth century.
Drawing principally from memoirs, first-person accounts, and popular literary and cinematic narratives, Francis crafts an extremely interesting and revealing examination of gender roles in war. Historians might criticize the topical organization, but the chapters do seem successful in highlighting both the allure of being a pilot and that allure's masculine underpinnings, allowing Francis to deconstruct the relationship. His argument contextualizes gender, specifically the notion of masculinity, within the larger transformation of British society that occurred after the First World War. Unlike their Victorian-era predecessors whose masculinity was emblematic of a rigid, class-bound, and hierarchical society, the martial society of the RAF in the Second World War was far more informal, progressive, and domestically oriented. Francis points out that the allure of the flyer was never completely extinguished. The fundamental nature of air combat certainly lent itself to crafting the bold and daring image of RAF pilots. Popular literature and cinema also accentuated the sensuality and majesty of being a pilot, although Francis notes that many pilots were uncomfortable with movie war. Airmen themselves did much to shape their own image through their distinctive uniforms and their penchant for fast cars and partying.
The Flyer successfully argues that undermining the popular image of the pilot was a new definition of masculinity, shaped by both the realities of modern war and a transformed British society. Notions of pilots as chivalrous gentlemen were more of a presumption by nonflyers than the flyers themselves. RAF airmen proved not only to be skilled users of modern killing technology but also indifferent to the fates of their enemies. The inclusion of women in the services, and the heterosexual relationships that naturally followed, softened the harder image of masculinity. And many pilots, Francis argues, looked to their home lives to offset the destabilizing and dehumanizing dimensions of war, rather than the comradeship of their fellow aviators. Fighting close to home, Francis points out, meant that many an RAF aircrewman returned after a mission to home and hearth. These domestic underpinnings proved to be an important means through which many airmen adapted to a postwar Britain that was transforming to a social welfare state.
Francis admits that The Flyer is not a military history per se; rather, it contributes to British social history and topics such as war and national identity, the history of emotions, and war and memory. Yet, military historians would be remiss not to consider the book as a means of understanding the relationship between military organizations and the societies that create them. Francis makes a solid case that the RAF was an extension of British society. Redefined gender roles were a consequence of a transforming British society. The stereotype of hard-edged masculinity gave way to a reality of social progressivism and domesticity. RAF aircrew might have been cold-blooded killers during the war, but most of them easily shed their blue uniforms after the war and returned to normal, peacetime lives.
