Paul Daniel's Views On The World, For What They're Worth

Fox Sports in Australia has a program called The Back Page, a reasonably relaxed hour of looking at the week in sport, with different panellists each week. I got to the point where I would have a brief look each week – if Peter FitzSimons was one of the panellists, I’d turn it off straight away. Otherwise, I’d sit down and watch it. I even got to the point of e-mailing Fox Sports about him – his habit of talking over people all the time and making the most absurd, unrelated comments used to annoy me immensely.

So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I bought Charles Kingsford Smith & Those Magnificent Men by Peter FitzSimons, at the Borders “use up all your gift vouchers before we go completely broke” sale. Which wasn’t really a sale at all obviously, given I paid $38.99 for the book, in its paperback form.

I have always wanted to fly as a profession, but the timing just wasn’t right in terms of the scholarships being offered by TAA and Ansett (yes, I am that old), and I was always worried that, if I did it via the RAAF, some idiot prime minister would send me off to get myself killed fighting someone else’s war. It’s certainly no coincidence that I live so close to Moorabbin Airport. Thus, any quality book on Australian aviation is going to be well received by me.

In the Introduction, FitzSimons explains that Ian Mackersey’s book, Smithy: The Life of Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, is “outstanding”. While I agree with him on this, I’d found it particularly tough going when I read it a few years ago. Hence I was looking forward to seeing how FitzSimons managed the subject, given my experiences of him on The Back Page.

While the book title clearly references Smithy as its main subject, this book is actually a history of global aviation from the very beginning, in 1894, through to when Smithy disappeared in Lady Southern Cross in November 1935. In fact, Dick Smith, a noted Australian business man, conservationist and aviator says it is “Undoubtedly the best aviation book I have ever read”. And while he has probably read way more aviation books than me, I completely agree with him. This book, even at 610 pages, was a great read.

There are some great sub-plots throughout the book, in addition to the thorough coverage of Smithy’s life. I loved reading about Anthony Fokker; how he was an integral part of the German aircraft production line during World War 1 (in which Smithy was a recognised pilot) and how his life progressed to become a major American-based aircraft manufacturer. I also enjoyed re-visiting the establishment and development of QANTAS, something that might surprise some of you who know what I think about that airline these days.

And what of FitzSimon’s irreverent style that had so frustrated me when he was on The Back Page? For some reason, don’t ask me why, I really found it enjoyable in this book. Perhaps a subject so dry, as demonstrated by Mackersey’s book, needed the odd flippant reference like “the circular filing cabinet” and “Well, hell, Thel” to lighten it up. Thankfully, unlike it did do on The Back Page, it didn’t detract from this narrative of how aviation grew up.

In summary, this is a really excellent, readable chronology of Smithy’s life, from his birth in Sydney in 1897 through to his presumed death in 1935, somewhere between Rangoon and Singapore. The story is interspersed with a myriad of excellent sub-plots that detail the history of world aviation during that period. Thoroughly recommended and definitely worth the $38.99.

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