Product Description

'An extraordinary, deeply moving and astonishingly evocative story. Reading it, you feel you are in the Spitfire with him, at 20,000 feet, chased by a German Heinkel, with your ammunition gone' INDEPENDENT Two months before the outbreak of WWII, seventeen year old Geoffrey Wellum left school to become a fighter pilot with the RAF. He made it through basic training to become the youngest Spitfire pilot in the prestigious 92 Squadron. Thrust into combat almost immediately, Wellum found himselfflying several sorties a day, caught up in terrifying dogfights with German Me 109s. Published more than fifty years afterwards, FIRST LIGHT is Geoffrey Wellum's gripping memoir of his experiences as a fighter pilot during WWII.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #3514 in Books
• Published on: 2003-05-01
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 352 pages

Amazon.co.uk Review
Surviving Battle of Britain fighter aces were thin on the ground even in 1941, so any new book more than 60 years later from a previously unknown pilot is bound to get noticed. And First Light is not just any book. It might not turn out to be a lasting classic, like Richard Hillary's The Last Enemy or Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front, but it is a cut well above the bog standard wartime reminiscences of many retired military bods. For a start Wellum can write, but more than this he has an instinctive feel for a good story. He begins First Light as a fresh-faced, rather obnoxious public schoolboy keen to blag his way into the RAF in March 1939; just three years, two full tours on Spitfires, the Battle of Britain, nearly 100 escorts and fighter sweeps over occupied France and a Malta convoy later, Wellum was physically and mentally burnt out before the age of 22. An old man in a boy's body. His descriptions of the excitement, freedom and, at times, sheer terror of operating in a three-dimensional airspace are vividly powerful, but perhaps his greatest gift is to get across the way the fatigue and the emotional shutting off creeps up unnoticed.

At the start, the death of a friend leaves Wellum devastated and wondering when his turn will come; within the space of a few hundred pages, the failure of a pilot to return is dropped in almost as an afterthought. This is not the response of a man who cares too little, but of one who cares too much. Without being aware of it, he has experienced and felt too much and his mind and body have involuntarily separated. This comes into even sharper relief at the end when Wellum is stood down from active service; he is the only one not to see--quite literally, as his vision has become impaired--that his ailments are rooted in his psyche rather than his body. The only one false note is his desire to see his role as part of a bigger picture; written many years after the events he describes, Wellum sometimes interjects thoughts and feelings about the war that simply do not ring true. That aside, one is left wondering what became of Wellum the man between the war ending and the book's publication. What sense did the prematurely aged fighter pilot make of the post-war age and did he learn to love again? But that, maybe, is the subject for another book. --John Crace

Review
'An extraordinary, deeply moving and astonishingly evocative story. Reading it, you feel you are in the Spitfire with him, at 20,000 feet, chased by a German Heinkel, with your ammunition gone' Independent

Early in the spring of 1939, Geoffrey Wellum applied to join the RAF. He was a sixth-former at a boarding school in the home counties, oddly unaware that war was only a few months away, and as keen as mustard to fly fighter planes. This book is his diary, the record of a teenager hastily trained and then hurled into the most devastating war in the air that the world has ever seen. Flying school is quickly dealt with, and early in 1940 the 18-year-old finds himself posted to a squadron on active service. Once he wins his coveted 'wings' he becomes part of a peripatetic outfit, 92 Squadron, and soon the squadron is in the thick of things. Wellum's enthralling memoir appears to be stitched together from notes written in the dispersal hut while edgily waiting for the order to 'scramble' and take off in a Spitfire after marauding enemy bombers and their vicious fighter support. You never, he wrote at the age of 19 (and a virgin), lose the feeling of fear, but you do become reconciled to it. 'Ops' could happen up to three times a day, and the stress on the young men was terrible, increased by the regular flow of pilots who failed to make it back to base. Once the Battle of Britain was won (and hard won, at that), Wellum went on to escort bombing squadrons into mainland Europe, with more narrow escapes that are deeply harrowing to read. When, as an old hand, he was retired from front-line service as a Flight Commander, he was just 20 years old. This is a wonderful and moving memoir: 'I feel so grateful for being one of this band of fighter pilots in this hour of our country's history,' he writes. And so should we. (Kirkus UK)

From the Inside Flap
"Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few."
–Winston Churchill, 1940

Geoffrey Wellum was one of Churchill’s "few," the gallant pilots of the RAF who streaked through the skies to repel the massive, brutal Nazi bombing assaults that killed thousands and leveled entire cities throughout the endless months of the Battle of Britain. To a man, they were courageous, determined, and oh, so young. Geoffrey, known as Boy to his comrades, was a good deal younger than most.

In First Light, Geoffrey Wellum tells the inspiring, often terrifying true story of his coming of age amid the roaring, tumbling dogfights of the fiercest air war the world had ever seen. It is the story of an idealistic schoolboy who couldn’t believe his luck when the RAF agreed to take him on as a "pupil pilot" at the minimum age of seventeen and a half in 1939. In his fervor to fly, he gave little thought to the coming war.

Writing with wit, compassion, and a great deal of technical expertise, Wellum relives his grueling months of flight training, during which two of his classmates crashed and died. He describes a hilarious scene during his first day in the prestigious 92nd Squadron when his commander discovered that Wellum had not only never flown a Spitfire, he’d never even seen one.

Boy soon learned the golden rule of the dogfight: "Never fly straight and level for more than twenty seconds. If you do, you’ll die." Wellum’s vivid accounts of ferocious aerial combat contrast the mortal terror of an innocent teenager with the grim determination of a highly trained warrior intent on doing his job–blasting the enemy one moment, desperately trying to shake off a pursuer the next. Few writers have succeeded more completely in evoking the chaos and horror of war.

A battle–hardened ace by the winter of 1941, though still not out of his teens, Boy flew scores of missions as fighter escort on bombing missions over France. Yet the constant life–or–death stress of murderous combat and anguish over the loss of his closest friends sapped endurance. Tortured by fierce headaches, even in the midst of battle, he could not bear the thought of "not pulling your weight," of letting other pilots risk their lives in his place. Wellum’s frank account of his long, losing bout with battle fatigue is both moving and enlightening.

Filled with affectionate portraits of Boy’s fellow fliers–many of whom did not survive the war–First Light tells an unforgettable true story of patriotism and fear, pride and humility, self–sacrifice and triumph. Already a bestseller in England, this powerful and compelling memoir is destined to become a classic, not only of military history, but also of literature.