ANZAC Day
On my last flight coming back to Australia, I watched Spitfire, a 2018 documentary about the WWII fighter aircraft of the same name. It is a wonderfully deep dive into the history of the plane, from the developmental origins of its racing forebear through to its use in combat operations. It is also replete with interviews from WWII fighter pilots — not just those who fought in them on the frontlines, but also those who ferried them from the factories. At the end of the feature, there is a particularly poignant flight sequence, set to some stirring music. A moment to reflect on what this aircraft did — on what the pilots who flew it did. The first time I saw it, I didn’t think much of it, as my flight was minutes away from landing at Sydney Airport. On a subsequent rewatch, I’m not ashamed to say I was moved to tears. I’ve been wondering about why the ending of this film elicited such a response from me. I love combat aviation, sure, but this hit a little deeper. Having thought about it for some time, and on this national day of remembrance, I think I have an answer.
The Spitfire is a representation of everything our veterans did for us. On the surface, it’s just a plane, but if you dig a little deeper, it’s really about people, and this documentary does an excellent job of proving that point.
She was thrust into war, as they were. She defended Britain in its hour of need, as they did. She defeated the Nazis, and in doing so, vanquished an almost unbelievably evil regime. Of course, our service members did that too. And now, having won the most consequential war in the history of human civilisation, she gets to rest, and enjoy an everlasting global peace that she secured for us, having earned the reverence she deserves, and having ensured the preservation of our way of life. It goes without saying that that recognition is simultaneously bestowed upon the men and women of our defence force.
Lest we forget.
