Blue Plaque for former Express reporter who had secret ‘cure’ for injury | History | News

FOUR years before his death aged 74 in July 1995, retired Group Captain Hugh Dundas, a former weather correspondent for the Daily Express, was invited to speak about “leadership in combat” at the RAF Staff College in Bracknell, Berkshire. Hugh “Cocky” Dundas, a Spitfire pilot along with his brother John who was killed in action, flew during the Dunkirk evacuations and the Battle of Britain, later leading a wing of fighter-bomber squadrons supporting the advance of the 8th and 5th armies in the final phase of the Italian campaign.

He no doubt bristled as he told his audience: “True courage is about overcoming fear and taking control of it. It’s the thing most people most fervently desire to do when faced with battle, the thing they find most difficult in their hearts, and the thing they most want to be shown how to do by their leaders.”

This feat was something he learned by example from those who “were not generally the sort of men who won Victoria Crosses”. “The astonishing act of supreme heroism that earns this award is usually a one-off, such as the whizzing by of a meteor, but in war a remarkable leader must be able to demonstrate sustained courage over long periods of grueling effort and danger.”

His words are as true today as ever, reminding us that the greatest heroes are not always those who kill the most enemies, they are humble examples of courage.

So it’s fitting that the former Expressman and his brother are now honored with twin blue plaques at Dale House in Cawthorne, South Yorkshire, where they grew up. Lauded among Winston Churchill’s “Few”, John and Hugh served their country with distinction by joining the Royal Auxiliary Air Force in 1938, aged 23 and 18 respectively. “They were both incredibly brave,” says Hugh’s daughter, Amanda Service, 69. “My father first flew into combat at the age of 19, which is remarkable in itself. At 24 he was the youngest person to become a Group Captain.”

John went to Oxford University and graduated first in his class. “He was so smart,” says Amanda, a grandmother of five from Bucklebury in Berkshire. “Dad admired him and wanted to follow in his footsteps. That was one of the reasons he was so keen to sign up as a fighter pilot at the beginning of the war. John had gone to Germany, seen the writing on the wall and returned to join the RAF.”

Both men had an extraordinary story. By the time he was 21, Hugh was a flight commander and had received the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC). At 22, he was promoted to wing commander to take over flying typhoons. He was sent to North Africa in early 1943 and then again to Spitfires. Deployments to Malta followed.

John was shot down while flying 609 Squadron’s Spitfire off the Isle of Wight in November 1940, aged 25. A month ago, he, like his brother, was awarded the DFC award.

After surviving fierce combat in the crucial summer of 1940, on 28 November he found himself in the middle of a fierce dogfight with a Messerschmitt 109 flown by the “ace” Major Helmut Wick, who claimed at least 50 victories. Although Wick was shot and killed during the conflict, John was last seen pursuing another German fighter plane at sea. No trace of him was found. In 2000, a monument was erected in Freshwater Bay on the Isle of Wight, close to The Needles.

Grieving the loss of his brother, Hugh continued to fight bravely. Known in the service as “Arrogant”, this nickname was attributed to his tall stature (he was 6 feet 11 inches tall), red hair, and beak-like nose that made him resemble a rooster.

“He was a bit of a rule breaker,” smiles Amanda. “His RAF tunic had a red lining which he thought was quite flashy.”

Cocky, he endured his own terrifying moments as a Spitfire pilot in 616 Squadron. He would later become this newspaper’s aviation correspondent.

He is remembered locally in Cawthorne as a tall, skinny teenager who roared through the neighborhood on an extremely loud motorcycle. One day, when his roar caused the police to stop him, he said, “You have to talk loud, that’s why I can’t hear you!” He is said to have shouted.

Stories of John also abound locally. On one occasion in 1939, as part of the take-off of the first 609 squadron formation, John’s engine was cut out. He quickly retreated but decided he could not clear nearby houses and lowered the plane towards the ground. It touched down fairly quickly, skidding over the airport fence, clipping a windsock that landed on a kid on a bike, and spun on its nose into the backyard of a nearby house.

The plane leaned against a tree and its rudder rested on the roof of the house. A lady living in the building suffered from hysteria and regained her health with the help of brandy. The vehicle was written off and the cause of the accident was a mechanical defect.

On August 22, 1940, high above Folkestone, Cocky narrowly escaped death when he was shot by an unseen assailant. Centrifugal forces trapped him in the cockpit of the spinning fighter jet, and he struggled to get out. He later wrote: “Oh God, this is the end!” I thought.

Pulling himself together, he shouted: “Get out, you fool; open the bonnet and get out!” The problem is that the hood jammed quickly. Finally, with a Herculean effort, he opened the cockpit canopy and parachuted to safety, despite his dislocated shoulder. He watched, “…detached from any form of reality” as his Spitfire exploded violently, scattering a flock of sheep before landing. “Through blood and pain, I thought blankly and rather strangely, ‘I hope the sheep are okay’.”

Although neither John nor Hugh Dundas achieved the kind of public fame and acclaim accumulated by contemporaries such as Douglas Bader or “Johnnie” Johnson, both were highly respected by their peers.

When John failed to return in November 1940, the official squadron logbook noted: “His brave example and cheerful personality are greatly missed.”

His commander noted a certain “overconfidence” regarding his abilities as a pilot. And this singular trait may have contributed to his death. Reportedly, after shipping Wick, he wirelessly said, “I’ve finished ME 109 – Whooppee!” He was heard shouting. This triumphant battle cry may be considered his epitaph, but as he has no known grave, he is commemorated by name on the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’s Runnymede Memorial to RAF casualties.

Apart from this and the new blue plaques, there is another magnificent monument. A Spitfire hangs from the ceiling in the atrium of Lambeth’s Imperial War Museum. Incredibly, this was the aircraft that John Dundas sometimes flew during the Battle of Britain.

For Cocky, the loss of his brother was felt deeply. Later, following the loss of Bader and fellow mate Lionel “Buck” Casson on 9 August 1941, Cocky realized he was the only surviving original member of the squadron – “a terrible thought”.

One of those flying Cocky at the time was young New Zealand Sergeant Pilot Jeff West. He wrote in 1990: “He looked indestructible, always exuding calm determination. Nothing disturbed him, and yet he didn’t seem much different from the popular image of the steely-eyed, rough-and-tumble fighter pilot… He was the pilot you wanted on your side in a pinch!”

Cocky went on to lead the first Hawker Typhoon fighter-bomber wing and subsequently served with distinction in North Africa. By this time he had been awarded the DFC and the Distinguished Service Order; A bar added later to DSO. But Cocky’s aerial victories over five years of service (four enemy aircraft destroyed and six shared with other pilots) did not come close to the score earned by his brother John in just five months.

In fact, the cocky Dundas had an eventful wartime career, but his post-war life was also full of dazzling achievements. He retired as a Wing Commander in 1947 and took up a job as Weather Correspondent for the Daily Express, then owned by Lord Beaverbrook, whose son Max Aitken served as a fighter pilot alongside Cocky. It was this connection that led to his appointment to this post, in which he performed an excellent role until 1961.

In 1953 he was posted to Washington DC as that paper’s North and South America correspondent for three years, then returned to Britain and embarked on a series of brilliant jobs. He was awarded the title of knighthood in 1987 for his services to the business world and the media.

“As a whole family, we are incredibly proud of him,” says Amanda, the youngest of Hugh’s three children (his sister Sally died in 2022, followed by brother Jamie a year later). We absolutely adored him. He was a lovely, charming, interesting, very intelligent man, but he had absolutely no airs or grace whatsoever. “He was a wonderful father and a wonderful grandfather to my children and a wonderful husband to my mother Rosamond (Robby).”

Robby and Smug were introduced by Lady Annaly, Robby’s family friend and close friend of the Queen Mother. In 1947, he hosted a dinner party in London and invited the then Princess Elizabeth and the newly engaged Prince Philip.

Hugh and Robby, who died aged 98 in 2023, were among a group of young people later invited to meet the royal family. “I’m not sure if this was the first time Mum and Dad met, but I think it clinched it,” smiles Amanda.

His parents got married in 1950. “My father proposed to my mother at a bus stop on Bayswater Road. They used to show it to us as we passed the bus when we were kids. She said: ‘It’s been a long time since the bus came and I couldn’t think of anything else to say!’ He always had a joke about everything.

However, he was never one to boast about his achievements.

“He was one of those incredibly humble men,” adds Amanda. “He was very modest about his service in the RAF and his success in journalism and business.”

Blue plaques now honor warrior brothers.

Former county councilor Sharon Pitt, who had the original idea, said: “It was fantastic – the plaques look lovely and the villagers valued the Dundas brothers – there are various village stories about them.

“There are people still alive who remember their parents talking about them. The blue plaques will help the next generation recognize them. This is a fitting way to ensure their heroism inspires future generations.”

As a nation, the recent 85th commemoration of the Battle of Britain was the first anniversary witnessed by no living veteran of that war. There is more reason than ever to remember men like the Dundas brothers, these “defenders of liberty.”