In the earliest days of World War One, when IX Squadron was formed, we
went to the fight in little 50mph machines that were barely capable of
taking pilot and observer, a gun and a few small, hand-held bombs into
the sky, especially on a windy day. When we took a wireless set, to spot
for the artillery and report on troop movements, the extra load forced
the defenceless pilot to leave his observer behind.
A century later, IX (B) Squadron flies jets that can exceed the speed of
sound, place laser-guided missiles within a few centimetres of the
target, and transmit the most complex data in real time across the
globe.
In between, the tale is of ponderous beasts of biplanes, of Wellingtons
and Lancasters in the bloody battles of World War Two, of Canberras and
Vulcans in the nuclear age of the Cold War.
Above all, it's the story of the men and women of the RAF's senior
bomber squadron across a hundred years of war and peace, and their words
fill this book. We go from those beginnings in wood, wire and fabric
kites over France and a pilot armed with a service revolver, to the
world's first Tornado squadron in the Gulf wars, over Kosovo and
Afghanistan, and so to the present, a century on.
It really is one hell of a story.