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Leadership

Ground crew.

National Archives of Canada

Ground crew servicing a 411 Squadron Spitfire “somewhere on the continent” in the winter of 1944-45.

Aerospace Power And Leadership Perspectives: The Human Dimension

by Colonel Randall Wakelam

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Brigadier-General (then Colonel) Brett Cairns article “Aerospace Power and Leadership Perspectives” [Spring 2002] undoubtedly gives the reader an accurate picture of the potential of air power in modern operations, with many examples of the complexity of the environment and the need for the effective leader to be a competent practitioner. But it could be argued that, while he makes mention of ‘people’1, General Cairns may have missed the nexus of leadership in that his discussion seems to be more focused on managing resources than on leading people. Indeed, he really seems to be looking at issues of command and control.2 Leadership, it could be argued, has more to do with the human experience of combat operations and with ensuring that people are capable of withstanding the rigours of intense and often protracted operations. No system, no matter how technically sophisticated, can achieve much without men and women to prepare and operate it.

In focusing on technology, tactics and doctrine, we tend to ignore the human dimension of aerospace operations. Yet, as technology evolves and as the employment of air power changes with each passing conflict, the human element remains a constant. If we are to understand the ‘leadership perspectives of aerospace power’ then we must first understand the human condition in aerospace combat: we must understand the aviators’ experience.

The balance between the technical and the human aspects of leadership has been well described by Canadian air historian, Dr Allan English. In a recent paper he argued that aerospace leaders must lead both in the traditional sense of the heroic leader (one who accepts risks alongside his or her followers) and as the technical leader (one who is expert in the systems employed by aerospace forces).3 General Cairns’ discussion has very effectively captured the latter notion, but appears to have missed the former.

The human side of leading aviators into combat has indeed been studied, but most of that work has been done by historians. Unfortunately, much of what has been written offers partial, and sometimes unsatisfactory, treatments of the subject. However, taken together, these writings do provide an adequate basis for beginning to understand what it is like to experience aerial combat and to lead others in this relatively new form of warfare. Happily, these works are now being complemented by a number of analytical studies which, one hopes, are the beginnings of more writing from a Canadian perspective. The purpose of this article is to identify some of that literature dealing with the aviators’ experience in war.

A review of Air Power History, a journal focused squarely on air warfare, suggests that Canada is not alone in giving insufficient attention to this subject. A perusal of the journal’s indexes for the 1990s found only seven articles out of more than 120 that could be deemed, at least to some extent, to be analytical studies of the aviators’ experience.4 Of these, one by US air power historian Kenneth Werrell offered insights of considerable significance to this article. Werrell identified the need to get away from traditional histories of commanders, technology and campaigns and to look at the ‘new’ military history. Of particular significance were unit histories, not the “yearbook quality, primarily picture books,” but analytical studies that explained how units functioned and fought. “Without ... unit histories, the broader studies [on air warfare] cannot be soundly grounded and thus not satisfactorily done.”5 He suggested that there is much that is not known about topics like casualties, training, the cause of aircraft losses, and relations between officers and NCOs. “As we do not know what was a typical unit, what was common in leadership, training and effectiveness, we cannot make any valid generalizations.”6 For our purposes, Werrell’s conclusion suggests that leading can be difficult if we do not understand who and what we are leading.

Recruiting poster

National Archives of Canada

RCAF recruiting poster from the Second World War.

Any attempt to understand the issues involved the aviators’ experience must begin with the official histories, which are the basic sources for most accounts of the air war. Unfortunately, the several volumes dealing with the Royal Air Force (RAF) tell readers very little about the aviators’ war. The collection of the United States Army Air Forces (USAAF), The Army Air Forces in World War II, does, however, go into some detail.7 The Canadian Air Force histories, published in the 1980s and 1990s, have had the luxuries of time and other published sources to be able to develop yet a third approach to the official treatment of human experience.

The official histories of the Royal Air Force appeared throughout the 1950s and early 1960s. In The Defence of the United Kingdom, by Basil Collier, the Battle of Britain was a major element in the chronology of military actions. Yet, while much space was devoted to recounting each day’s events, there was virtually no mention of individuals or of the factors that affected their combat experience. In Collier’s account, there was no recognition of ‘the few’ whom Churchill and the British public had so emotionally thanked some 15 years before.8

In 1961, Charles Webster and Noble Frankland published a three-volume examination of the bombing campaign, which offered a better, if still limited, view of life in aerial combat. The Strategic Air Offensive Against Germany 1939-1945 underscored the deficiencies of peacetime training and tactics in order to explain (but not excuse) the problems faced by bomber crews and strategists during the first years of the war.9 The series went to great lengths to analyze these weaknesses and the subsequent problems of night bombing, and, while readers were not given extensive exposure to the risks faced by flyers, limited discussions of the challenges of operations were included in a broader discussion of the work done by operations research scientists.10

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Discussion of specific flying circumstances was a central element of the United States Army Air Force official histories, which were published in seven volumes beginning in 1948. In Volume 1, the editors devoted a full chapter to the first raid by bombers based in England; their discussion highlighted the complexities of preparing a new force for combat and of the actual conduct of the mission.11 Similarly, valuable insights appeared throughout the series, as in the case of a description of an attack on a Focke-Wulf plant at Bremen on 17 April 1943. After describing in broad terms the nature of the running combat with German fighters, the author then turned to the post-raid analysis in which the participants’ critical review of the combat ‘box’ formation was presented. The strengths and weaknesses of this defensive formation were explained in detail, and, while the focus was still on tactics and doctrine, the reader could begin to see the complex and demanding nature of combat flying.12

In Volume 2 of the USAAF histories, the editors examined the specific difficulties of the air historian when attempting to describe the aviator’s battle.

As for the details of the actual air battle, the information, whether from American or German sources, is rarely as exact as the historian could wish. That fault, too, stems from the very nature of aerial combat. A nineteen-year-old boy takes off in a “hot” plane, alone or with a crew, in accordance with a plan to bomb or strafe a specified target at a desired time; he must fly from his base, often at great distance from the target, through weather which frequently makes precise navigation difficult and through opposition from fighters whose passes are incredibly swift; he arrives over the target at as nearly the set minute as possible and performs his deadly task under circumstances which rarely permit him to take time out for the sort of entry so familiar in the ship’s log. Even without the emotional strain of battle, the boy would find it impossible on his return to give to his interrogating officer an accurate and detailed report of his own experiences, and the story of a large mission must be compounded by hundreds of such imperfect individual reports.13

Implicit in this statement by historians is the need for practitioners to take a serious look at how they are analyzing, recording and passing on their thoughts for future generations of aerospace leaders.

Two volumes of the official history of the Royal Canadian Air Force offer a different treatment of the air war and the aviator’s experience, perhaps in part because of their date of publication. Volume 2, The Creation of a National Air Force, which dealt with flying operations in Canada, including the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan, was published in 1986. Volume 3, The Crucible of War, was completed in 1994. Both drew heavily on primary sources, but the authors had the benefit of being able to refer to the wide range of Canadian, British and German secondary materials published since the war.14 Thus, Canadian accounts of operations and institutional problems have been to some degree richer, in that the authors have been willing to include personal accounts of actions and day-to-day life in their official histories.

In one specific case, the reader gets an acute sense of the real terror of aerial combat. After being attacked and nearly losing control of his bomber, the pilot “realized that the [aircraft] was diving to the ground and that there were flames all around which burned my unprotected face.” At first unable to get out of his harness, “I suddenly found myself loose; I stood up & was sucked out of the diving [aircraft].” Captured by the Germans, he was then told that the rest of his crew, whom he had ordered to bale out, were dead.15 With this incident as context, the official historian then goes on to reflect on the matter of unit morale in a neighbouring unit. An aviator from that second unit, himself shot down, “later reported that the loss of the CO and the fact that the squadron had flown on operations on five of the last eight nights meant that they were ‘anything but enthusiastic’ about having to do another one.”16 In capturing the lack of enthusiasm and other emotions and experiences, the Canadian official histories provide the best access to the aviator’s life of the three sources examined.

It is appropriate, having just seen how anecdotal sources have been used in at least one official history, to turn our attention towards the memoirs that are the source of many of these anecdotes. The greatest issue one faces in seeking a valid sense of the aviators’ experience can be seen in the comments of the USAAF historians discussed earlier. If the circumstances of air combat were as mentally, emotionally and physically taxing as has been suggested, how can one look to individual accounts for anything other than partial, chaotic memories?

Samuel Hynes, a long-time historian of the phenomenon of war and memory, and a former Marine Corps fighter pilot, saw “personal narrative”17 as a way to “see what happened in war, one man at a time; who the men were who told war’s separate stories and what their stories tell us (and don’t tell us) about war....”18 If Hynes was open to personal experience, then further examination seems warranted. But, from the perspective of learning something of the aviators’ experience, it is perhaps wise to remember that memoirs are not all equally good.

A one-man-at-a-time approach was used in examining the service experiences of the two dozen Canadian fighter pilots who rose to command fighter wings. Written by George Brown and Michel Lavigne, Canadian Wing Commanders of Fighter Command included a series of short chapters detailing the flying careers of each officer.19 Unfortunately these flying careers, which included both senior rank and responsibility, seemed, based on the events portrayed by the authors, to have been generally limited to sortie after sortie of combat, despite the flyers’ obviously changing responsibilities. Readers were thus left to try to decipher any sort of message or theme. As good and seemingly valuable as the personal accounts were, the reader might well have asked: “So what?” Did individual experiences reflect a common experience? Did the events reflect the skill or lack thereof of the aviators? Was the equipment up to the tasks described? Was training a factor in success or failure? What of weather and other hazards to flying? What of morale? What about leadership? These sorts of questions repeat themselves frequently when trying to learn from memoirs and like works. In this case, one senses that a real opportunity to examine leadership at the tactical level, along with its unique human experience, had been lost.

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Another Canadian author, Lieutenant-Colonel David Bashow, a fighter pilot and air historian, took a more comprehensive approach to recounting the fighter pilot’s experience in his 1996 book, All the Fine Young Eagles. A number of air campaigns were reconstructed, with anecdotes interspersed where appropriate, but again one was left to some extent to wonder whether this collection of personal accounts was reflective of the aviators’ experience or whether it was a series of individual reminiscences ably strung together. The book’s foreword by Lieutenant-General A.M. De Quetteville offered some useful reflection as well as an important recommendation. “Even though the technology and tactics of aerial combat have changed, the human factor has not. The manner in which these men, many still in their teens, dealt with the physical and mental demands of a merciless war in the air is worth considering by today’s ‘crop’ of pilots.”20

Canadian airmen.

Canadian Forces Photo Unit PL 40448

A trio of Canadian airmen on wartime service with an RAF Lancaster squadron.

One Canadian aviator’s memoirs have had three printings in two editions between 1979 and 1988. Murray Peden, bomber pilot and post-war lawyer, wrote A Thousand Shall Fall as an “act of remembrance” to fallen comrades.21 The story of Peden’s experience was seen by many as one of the better memoirs of the aviator’s experience. USAAF commander General Ira Eaker concluded that Peden’s work “was among the best” and that it provided an “unusually entertaining and factual account of the air war....”22

Peden’s description of the ordeal of ‘crewing up’ provided an example of his powers of observation. He described how, having never met before, it was hard for pilots to know which gunners would defend the aircraft well, and harder yet for any other member of the crew to pick out a competent pilot. “Choosing a pilot could be a much more critical decision than choosing a wife.” “A bird-brained pilot was likely to kill everyone who flew with him, soon. And yet the indication of competence was nowhere to be found with any degree of reliability until a crew had an opportunity to fly with a pilot....”23 In another example, Peden relates how, when flying as a ‘second pilot’ to gain experience, the crew that he was observing “could have been demonstrating, for some Air Force film, the way an operational crew ought to carry out its duties. No one wasted a word on the intercom and, when someone did pass a message, it was in a calm, matter-of-fact voice....”24 Yet the same crew in after-flight debriefing displayed “scant similarity ...[to] the keen Brylcreem-ad airmen on the recruiting posters....” Instead they presented “a picture of men wrung out like dish rags – men who had had enough adventure to do them for a bit.”25 How, a reader might ask, could men in their early 20s go through thirty operational missions with similar risks? What sort of leader would be needed to keep them going, night after night?

At this point let us return to Samuel Hynes and compare what we have seen of the personal narrative genre with Hynes’ own thoughts. He warns that it is typical of memoirs for the author to have seen very little of what was going on around him. “One must conclude that wars are fought, and remembered, by men who are unaware of the events and meanings beyond their own vision, because their attention is on other closer mortal things.”26 Yet, Hynes believes that for all the limitations of the memoir, the genre is a valuable, even essential, one. The works are individualized and sometimes contradictory, but, taken as a whole, they come close, he believes, “to a full answer to our urgent human question: what was it like, in war?27 And what it was like is invaluable knowledge for the leader.

Less numerous, but more important to examining and understanding the human dimension of aerospace leadership, there is a final category of literature which provides analysis and criticism. These works focus on specific aspects of the aviators’ experience or study an event or phenomenon from a variety of perspectives. Generally, but not always, they present a thesis, arguing for the relevance of that perspective as a way of gaining insight and better understanding of the aviator’s life.

As an observer, historian Denis Winter had made a mark for himself in the study of soldiers in the First World War in Death’s Men – Soldiers of the Great War. In the preparation of that book, it had been suggested to him that he had made very little reference to aviators. An investigation of available sources and archives confirmed for him that there was a significant amount of material available, and he set out to examine the first air war through the eyes of British flyers.28 Without advancing a particular thesis, he nonetheless laid out the essence of the fighter pilot’s experience of the Great War. Winter described the process by which the CO would receive orders for the next day’s operations and how he would subsequently have to establish which pilots were assigned to which missions. “Combining need with suitability the skipper would draw reflectively on his pipe, aware that decisions could be death warrants.” Those placed on the flying schedule were equally tense, but could not display emotion for “custom prescribed that there be no impression of unease.”29 Once in the air, the actual attack was a combination of emotion, physical terror and a cool technical detachment. Winter concluded that the actual combat was “....practical. Ammunition drum full? Petrol gauge? Wind and weather?” Some flyers noted “a feeling of impartiality and calm, describing it as if a secondary person were taking over....”30 Once back on the ground, the aviator’s physical and emotional reaction differed greatly from the usual terse report in the unit records. “Chased down from 16,000 to 3,000 feet on one patrol, [British ace] Mannock found himself unable to stand when he climbed from the cockpit.”31

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Winter was interested in the mental and physical attributes which made for a successful fighter pilot. He was able to compile a list of characteristics by comparing several individuals. Physical qualities “marksmanship, positional flying and awareness of the enemy” had served Canadian William Barker in a dogfight with sixty German aircraft.32 Mental qualities included ambition, compulsion, aggression, and, strangely, caution.33 The latter meant ensuring both man and machine were fit, and that the aircraft was able to run for it if the circumstances dictated. Invariably, however, many men would not return and Winter explored both the inevitability of death and the mourning of the survivors. While some would partake stoically of the ritual, it was not uncommon for them to break down in the relative privacy of their quarters, as did Mannock.34

Damaged bomber.

Canadian Forces Photo Unit PL 32010

Battle damage inflicted by a German night fighter on a Canadian Halifax bomber, ca. 1944.

In drawing some conclusions from his research, Winter noted that there was a continuity in pilot tradition between the two World Wars. What had been passed informally from the first generation to the following one continues, arguably, today.35 As such, the great value in Winter’s work is the definition, even if rudimentary, of an aviator’s character and environment that can be used regardless of the events, aircraft or time frame. Whether Winter’s description of the typical fighter pilot is accurate, and whether technology has changed that individual can be debated, but he has provided, at least, a valuable basis for discussion about leading combat flyers.

Two works published in the mid-1990s took much of the existing literature into account while exploring human factors in aerial combat, and what the RAF and the USAAF called ‘Lack of Morale Fibre’. The term that might be more familiar to contemporary readers is Combat Stress Reaction or Operational Stress Injury. In his 1995 book Courage and Air Warfare, USAF Colonel Mark Wells argued that despite the technical dimensions of the air war against Germany, the bombing offensive of the Second World War “still rested on the individual courage, stamina and determination of thousands of men and women.” Taken together, these qualities produced the willpower needed to overcome Clausewitzian friction. Wells argued that most of what had been written did not reveal much of the human dimension. Campaign statistics were uninformative and personal accounts of aerial combat, while “riveting,” were still lacking. “... [A]ttention needs to be more closely focused on the physiological dimension of the campaign, especially topics relating to aircrew selection and classification, reaction to combat, adaptability to stress, morale, leadership and combat effectiveness.”36 He concluded that aerial combatants were “motivated by a wide ranges of emotions” and factors. When faced with intensive operations and losses, they continued “because of a spirit of cohesion and teamwork that permeated the units and individual aircrews.” But, he argued, “combat flying was often characterized by hours of tedious boredom and great physical stress, interrupted by all-too-lengthy stretches of confusion, panic, furious activity and instant death.” And when this proved too much for them, some men, regardless of background or psychological screening, “succumbed”.37 Again, one asks, what are the lessons for the leader? How does the leader deal with these stresses on unit personnel and with caring for those who do succumb?

In 1996, Allan English’s Cream of the Crop was published in Canada. Looking at ‘Lack of Moral Fibre’ from and RCAF/RAF point of view, he referred to the concerns of other air force historians, Stephen Harris and Norman Hillmer:

... no “comprehensive account of air force training or the way in which the RAF managed its personnel resources” has been written, despite the importance of the subjects. Moreover, “questions about the composition of the air force, and personnel selection processes, are largely unanswered, while those relating to morale and discipline continue to be matters of conjecture.”38

In passing, one can suggest that these issues are as important today as they were to air leaders in the 1940s.

English thus elected to look in detail at the system developed and used by psychologists to select young men for flying duties, and the remedies employed by psychiatrists to return them to duty when the stress of combat proved too great. Along the way, he concluded, based on RAF data and his own calculations, that “psychological casualties” in Bomber Command had amounted to about five percent per year.39 In this respect, he had found that combat stress-related casualties were almost as significant a drain on personnel as were combat losses. His investigation revealed the requirement for national-level policies and supporting practices that would ensure ‘manpower’ was available and effective. English, in short, attempted to assess the impact of ‘Lack of Moral Fibre’ casualties on a nation’s human resources. “The lesson here for the leaders of today and tomorrow is that it is just as important to be aware of the principles of human-resource management as to have operational and technical expertise.”40

It is through the works of English and Wells that we begin to understand the broader significance of the human dimension of air warfare. While not so much focused on the question of leadership itself, their analyses help us to understand the impact of the aviators’ experience on operations, and on a nation’s ability to sustain combat operations. A 2001 publication does return to the theme of aerospace leadership. USAF Lieutenant Colonel John J. Zentner’s The Art of Wing Leadership and Aircrew Morale in Combat examines the ‘wing commander’, normally, the highest ranking aviator to personally lead forces into combat.41 Zenter analyzes three historical examples, two from the Second World War and one from Vietnam, to extract concepts for effective leadership: Major Adolf Galland of Jagdgeschwader 26, Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Laughlin of the 362nd Fighter Group and Colonel James McCarthy of the 43rd Strategic Wing.

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Zentner is careful to describe the limitations of his research, suggesting that what has applied to one or more of his historical cases might not be transferable to contemporary peace support operations or to smaller flying units. He states too that the use of personal accounts and memory risks the introduction of qualitative uncertainties and myth. Finally, he reminds readers that the cases are drawn from Western air forces for purposes of comparison; implicitly, we are reminded that there are other cultures with powerful air arms. These cautions are good to see; they let the reader know that this is not the definitive study of this topic, and signal the need for further research. Zentner examines the notion of morale – he calls it the “Morale Problem” – settling on a hybrid definition: “Aircrew morale is the enthusiasm and persistence with which an aviator flies combat missions.”42 Again taking ideas from a number of writers, he says that morale is composed of three elements: individual needs (both physical and psychological), cohesion (primary group dynamics), and esprit de corps (devotion to the secondary group).43

CF-104

DND photo PCN 84-17

A CF-104 firing rockets on the Cold Lake weapons range, 1984.

In comparing the three cases, the author zeros in on psychological aspects of individual needs and specifically tactical innovation as the central factor behind high morale. Units can have high losses or low esprit, but seem to keep going if the crews believe their tactics are sound. Leaders, he concludes, can foster good morale by influencing tactical excellence either personally or by giving their squadron commanders and crews the opportunity to develop new tactics as the situation dictates.44 Zentner draws four ‘implications for airpower’: cohesion is not a factor for aircrew morale (aircrew only seem to need good aircraft and confidence in their own flying competencies); context (OOTW versus warfighting) can affect morale; high losses will not necessarily affect morale unless linked to tactical flaws; and the wing commander must be innovative and by extension expert in the tactics and employment of the wing.45 Here again, we see the need, identified by General Cairns, for leaders to be practitioners.

Zentner ends by recommending that the USAF needs to develop doctrine for morale and command, and at the same time should promote the study of these issues in staff and war colleges as well as in group and wing commanders’ courses. Here one cannot but applaud the wisdom of his argument. The human dimension of combat will always be the central factor in victory; air forces that fail to recognize this will be doomed to mediocrity or worse.46

Brigadier-General Cairns is not alone in giving little emphasis to the essential human dimension of aerospace leadership. When first published, the Chief of the Air Staff’s reading list did not contain any material on leadership, and only recently added a selection of generic leadership titles under the rubric of ‘Military Leadership’.47

Leading in the air, I believe, involves much more than being technically expert in the application of aerospace forces, although that is certainly important. It requires leaders who understand and address the human dimension of warfare in the air. Enough has been written about ‘Aerospace Power and Leadership Perspectives’ that Canadian military aviators have a rich start point from which to consider how best to integrate the experience and conclusions of others into how we do our business. We might want to borrow from what others have concluded, or we might, and one would sincerely hope that we would, conduct more research, do more thinking and writing, and reach our own conclusions. The latter option would involve hard questions and require hard work and harder thinking, but would offer especially valuable results. Whatever course we take, we cannot continue to presume that leading aerospace forces is a technical business.

CMJ-Logo

Colonel Randall Wakelam is Director of Professional Development in the Headquarters of the Canadian Defence Academy.

Notes

  1. Colonel Brett Cairns, “Aerospace Power and Leadership Perspectives”, Canadian Military Journal, Vol 3, No 1, Spring 2002, p. 40.
  2. The Spring 2002 issue of Canadian Military Journal also contains an extensive discussion of command and control by Ross Pigeau and Carol McCann in their paper “Reconceptualizing Command and Control”. Command and control of aerospace forces were also central issues at the Fall 2002 1 CAD Commander’s Training Session.
  3. Allan English, “The Masks of Command: Leadership Differences in the Canadian Army, Navy and Air Force”, unpublished paper presented at the 2002 IUS Conference, Kingston ON, 26 September 2002.
  4. Reviews of Canadian Military History, War and Society and the Journal of Military History revealed similar or lesser focuses on air operations and the aviator’s experience.
  5. Kenneth Werrell, “A Case for a ‘New’ Unit History,” Air Power History 39: 1, Spring 1992, pp. 34-41.
  6. Werrell, p. 34. John Keegan and John Ellis reflect many of the same concerns in their essays in Time to Kill: The Soldier’s Experience of the War in the West, 1939-1945 (London: Pimlico, 1997).
  7. Wesley Frank Craven and James Lea Cate, editors, The Army Air Forces in World War II (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948-1958), seven volumes.
  8. Basil Collier, The Defence of the United Kingdom (London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1957). In his recounting of the events of 15 September, which led to the establishment of Battle of Britain Day, his account of the story is clipped and dry: “No. 11 Group put up another seven and a half squadrons....”, pp. 242-243.
  9. Charles Webster and Noble Frankland, “Training and Tactics, 1934-1939,” The Strategic Air Offensive Against Germany 1939-1945, Volume 1 (London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1961), pp. 107-126. While they offer no excuses, they are somewhat apologetic in their account, suggesting that initial performances of both German and American air arms were equally faulty (pp. 125-126).
  10. Webster and Frankland, “Night Precision Bombing, May 1940-March 1941” Volume 1, pp. 213-32.
  11. Wesley Frank Craven and James Lea Cate, editors, The Army Air Forces in World War II, Volume 1: Plans and Early Operations, January 1939 to August 1942 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1948), pp. 655-670. The information is contained in Chapter 18 “Rouen-Sotteville No. 1, 17 August 1942” by Arthur Ferguson.
  12. Craven and Cate, Op. Cit. Vol 2, pp. 328-333.
  13. Craven and Cate, Op. Cit. Vol 2, pp. xi-xii.
  14. American materials are of lesser importance given the close association and frequent integration between British and Canadian aviators both at the individual and crew level and institutionally.
  15. Brereton Greenhous et al, The Crucible of War: Volume 3 of the Official History of the RCAF (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1994), pp. 613-614.
  16. Greenhous, p. 614.
  17. Samuel Hynes, The Soldiers’ Tale: Bearing Witness to Modern War (New York: Penguin, 1997), p. xiv.
  18. Ibid., p. xiii.
  19. George Brown and Michel Lavigne, Canadian Wing Commanders of Fighter Command in World War II (Langley B.C.: Battleline Books, 1984).
  20. David Bashow, All the Fine Young Eagles, (Toronto: Stoddart, 1996), pp. ix-x.
  21. Murray Peden, A Thousand Shall Fall (Toronto: Stoddart, 1988), p. v.
  22. Ibid., p. viii. In the same remarks, Eaker goes on to conclude that the book demonstrates that taking a few years out of their lives to go to war did no “irreparable damage from this demonstration of patriotism”.
  23. Ibid., p. 167.
  24. Ibid., p. 250.
  25. Ibid., p. 252.
  26. Hynes, p. 14.
  27. Ibid., p. 283. Original emphasis.
  28. Denis Winter, The First of the Few: Fighter Pilots of the First World War (Athens, Ga.: University of Georgia Press, 1983), p. 9.
  29. Ibid., p. 85.
  30. Ibid., p. 99.
  31. Ibid., p. 107.
  32. Ibid., p. 137.
  33. Ibid., pp. 138-143.
  34. Ibid., p. 159.
  35. Ibid., p. 205.
  36. Colonel Mark Wells, Courage and Air Warfare: the Allied Aircrew Experience in the Second World War (London: Frank Cass, 1995), p. 2.
  37. Ibid., p. 211.
  38. Allan English, The Cream of the Crop: Canadian Aircrew, 1939-1945 (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s Press, 1996), pp. 9-10. Harris and Hillmer “The Development of the Royal Air Force 1909-1945,” in Jordan, ed., British Military History: A Supplement to Robin Higham’s Guide to the Sources, (New York: Garland, 1988), p. 345.
  39. Ibid., p. 157.
  40. Ibid., p. 154.
  41. Lt Col John Zentner, USAF, The Art of Wing Leadership and Aircrew Morale in Combat, CADRE Paper No. 11 (Maxwell AFB: Air University Press, 2001).
  42. Ibid., p. 14.
  43. Ibid., pp. 15-19.
  44. Ibid., p. 98.
  45. Ibid., pp. 99-100.
  46. Ibid., p. 100.
  47. The CAS Professional Development Reading Program. http://www.airforce.forces.gc.ca/cas_reading/index_e.htm accessed 20 Oct 02.