Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

Page 251 text:

TRINITY COLLEGE SCHOOL RECORD 139 He was tall, strongly built, blue eyed, fair faced and had light brown hair. Just by the way the new master looked at Harry and the fondness of his hands patting his exterior, Harry liked him immediately. As Harry took a closer look around his new home he saw many of his brothers. It was one of the few fighter bases to have concrete run- ways. It has great advantages over the turf type, as the fighter has no trouble landing and taking off in wet weather. It has one disadvantage. that is, the Germans make it a special target because concrete runways take time to repair. As dawn approaches the whole base seems in a magic spell. The early morning dew sparkles like millions of rainbow coloured diamonds in a magic fairyland. The tranquility is broken by a bell, it rings once, twice, thrice and four times. Suddenly as if the world was going to end. horns blared and bells rang, sending their distressing notes all over the base. Harry stood in the line of fighters, shivering with excitement for this was the first bit of action he would take part in. The pilots' swearing was clearly carried all over the base as they fumbled into their battledress. The mechanics, half dressed and unshaven, came stumbling from their sleeping quarters with sleep laden eyes to check their beloved aircraft. It was these men who kept the R.A.F. flying. Before the alarm rang Harry was having an interesting conversation with some of his buddies. He gained some very useful information about the killing of the enemy, dives, turns, landing, taking off and most im- portant how to die like a Spitfire. All these thoughts were racing through his carburettors when the mechanic started to prime him to start the engine. His pilot raced out to him after leaving the briefing room. Harry spat out blue smoke and flames and then roared to life. Harry liked the steady hands and feet guiding him to the long runway, the road to the air. The squadron leader's plane made a fast smooth take off. Harry was next. His' tires sang as they accelerated down the concrete. Harry felt the life pour into him as his prop hurtled him through the air. Slowly, ever so slowly, his tail lifted and then Harry rose majestically into the air. Harry circled the base until all thirteen fighters were grouped. He felt as though he had sugar in his gasoline or, as we would call it, butterflies. There was a click and the squadron leader's voice was heard in Harry's cockpit, N50 Bandits approaching channel with fighter umbrella. First flight attack fighters from run, second flight attack bombers from run after Bandit fighters engaged. Harry was in the first flight. His flight manoeuvered into a position with the run behind and one thousand feet above the Germans. The minutes seemed like hours but finally they came, darkening the sky beneath them. One by one they peeled off diving at full power, invisible to the Germans. Harry was next, he dived, every part in Harry shook as he plunged toward the enemy. Harry was thinking hard, 109's. this should be pretty' rough . The gap closed between the plunging Spitfires and the unsuspect- ing German fighters. Suddenly they were 600 yards away, Harry's guns shook the whole plane as it strafed the upper fuselages of the Messer- schmitts. On through air black with smoke, Harry made his charge. His desperate thoughts were, slow circle up, quick hard left turn, dive! divel. he is on your tail. Think cool, yes, turn hard, harder, look out! roll! Harry's fuselage was racked wth cannon and machine gun bullets as he narrowly missed a collision with a 109. Harry's pilot was wounded and so was he, his canopy a shattered piece of plastic and his tail was in tatters.

Page 250 text:

138 TRINITY COLLEGE SCHOOL RECORD blauched with horror. The passengers were dead. The scene told the tragic tale. The fuselage had ripped open, the water had flooded in and passengers had panicked. Hunt and Seagram re-entered the cockpit, closed the door, grabbed the logbook and portable radio set, then climbed onto the shining, salt- sprayed roof of the plane. In a moment, they were floating in the salty water '... two survivors out of 132. ln their waterproof pouches was a meagre supply of food, and Sea- gram pulled the rope from the supply kit and tossed it to Hunt, who grabbed it and tied it to his belt. The icy water made them shiver, but their waterproof suits helped a little. Hunt looked pale as if the strain was proving too much for him. He pulled out the radio and began to signal. Fifteen minutes later, signalling completed. he returned the unit to its case. There isn't a ship less than fifty miles from here. We report again at sunbreak. Meanwhile, let's get some sleep. he suggested. Seagram awoke to the monotonous sound of sea water. He looked around. Water. Suddenly it dawned on him . . . Hunt wasn't with him any longer. He looked around a second time. No sign of Hunt. Suddenly he felt ill. He vomited. It was his imagination. It had to be. He pulled in the loose end of the rope. A speck on the horizon, maybe - no, he was gone. Seagram had a piece of chocolate. He settled down for a long, weary day. It was the morning of the third day. His food had run out and he was feeling weak. It seemed as if he were no longer awake. The hours floated by as in some strange dream. He was just pulling out his last vitamin capsule when he thought he saw something. He took another look. There! It disappeared. But no . . . it was there again. Perhaps it was but another one of his dreams, or maybe . . . yes, maybe that black speck could be a ship. Seagram had one flare remaining in his kit. He pulled it out. In a couple of minutes a brilliant light of many colours illuminated the awakening sky. Four hours later, Seagram was lying in a bunk aboard the S.S. Ha- rango . He was 150 miles from London. In a few minutes, the Royal Navy Air-Sea Rescue had been given the word. After a two-hour search, Hunt was found in a state of complete exhaustion and shock due to exposure, but otherwise fine. They found he had undone the rope while searching for his torch, two night earlier. Later, Hunt and Seagram met at the head office of Olympic Airlines. It had been a hard, trying -V yes, disastrous trip. They hoped they would never have to relive such an experience. There were those, however, whose hopes were gone. They perished below the tumult of the waves. -T. J. T. Ringereide, IIA Born A Spitfirep Die A Spitfire This is a story about the life of a Spitfire. The Mark III Spitfire we shall call A3-AL4 or Harry for short. Harry was born near Manchester, England. on August 3rd, 1941. Almost as soon as he was born, he was gassecl up and checked over. With coughs and groans Harry started his life. Ile was handled with care like most babies but Harry was aging fast. Ile reached his home somewhere in Kent and met his new master.

Page 252 text:

140 TRINITY COLLEGE SCHOOL RECORD Here they come again. those scavengers, can't you see them? Pilot can't you see them? There was the chatter of machine guns, the sickening sound of bullets ripping fabric and metal and then silence. The purr of the engine died away and the battle for life began. llarry was mortally wounded, he was belching ugly black smoke and was spinning out of control. Harry put everything he had into getting out of the spin but the damages were too great. The green and yellow patches of fields rushed up to meet him. He felt the wind whistling through his intakes for the last time. There was an exploson which rocked the countrysideg Harry had died. It was said that A3-AL-1 was shot down in combat August 5th, 1941, after sending three Germans to their graves. Harry died like a Spitfire. -I. McGregor, IIA Ernest Hemingway H898-19611 Ernest Hemingway was born in Oak Park, a suburb near Chicago, Illi- nois, in 1898. His father, a doctor, taught him how to hunt and fish at their country place in Northern Michigan. This American novelist is more closely associated with Northern Michigan than with his birthplace. He used his boyhood in Michigan as a background for some of his well-known short stories. He left home when he graduated from high school and went to work as a reporter on the Kansas City Star. He tried to enlist in the First World War and was rejected because of an old eye injury. He enlisted as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front and in 1918 was badly wounded on the Piave. Slowly recovering, he returned to the U.S. and worked for a few years as a reporter and for a time with the Toronto Star. He finally settled in Paris where he began to write in earnest. He submitted his work for criticism to Ezra Pound and Gertrude Stein, the latter an able adviser to many writers. He developed the simple unemotional and naive style that brought him renown. His first two books did not sell well. It was his successful The Sun Also Rises that made his name known. It was written in 1926. This Was followed by A Farewell to Arms in 1929. To Have and Have Not', and For Whom The Bell Tolls represented Hemingway's first Search for wider social meanings, the former written in 1937 and the latter in 1940. Hemingway did not write another novel until 1950 when he wrote Across The River and Into The Trees . which was a complete failure, in contrast with The Old Man and The Sea , a novel about a battle with unconquerable natural forces, which won him the Pulitzer Prize in 1953 apd4was important in winning for him the Nobel Prize for Literature in .15 . Besides writing novels he wrote a plav, 'tThe Fifth Column , and Took? on bull fighting and big game hunting, both pastimes which he UVCI . In the 1930's Hemingway lived in Key West, Florida, and later moved to cuba. During the Second World War he served as a war correspondent in Spain. Vhina and Europe. Ernest Hemingway married four times. He left 3 sons when he died of a self-inflicted gun wound. The world lost a great novelist and .short story writer when he died. -T. W. Barnett, IIA