Dear reader, we imagine that most of our readership is in holiday mode. Well then,  what a perfect time to reflect upon some of the derring-do and pluck that has made this country famous. Famous because as Peter Fitzsimmons, (the bandana weraing Jingo-ist) would tell us, we’re second to none in volunteering for any war anywhere. And  will do our very best in wanting to be in the thick of it. It’s national insecurity on an immeasurable scale. And with Peter at the helm, “By Jingo, we’ll do it’. So pick up your Pimms No.5 . Forget about the Turnbull reform agenda. And learn more about heroic deeds in days of yore. 

This painting depicts the moment before these two albatross DV A fighters, (of KrieglufttanzangriffgeschwaderXV11) were intercepted by Flt Lieut, Edgar Crutchmore RFC. Crutchmore on secondment to RAAF establishment Point Cook as flight instructor and veteran of the western front, was famous for being the only limbless pilot capable of flying any aircraft in any theatre during the First World War.

Until the celebrated exploits of Douglas Bader, the popular imagination of stoicism was held solely by Crutchmore. According to contemporary sources, Crutchmore lost both his arms when demonstrating the efficacy of hurling grenades from the cockpit of a Handley page 0400 Heavy Bomber. Crutchmore not anticipating the effect of slip stream hurled the grenades out of the waist gun position only to find them hurled back at him via the ‘centrifugal vortex induction effect’, (CVIE) in which he responded to the incoming grenades with a habit borne by instinct and clockwork precision, caught both before nano-seconds later his arms were blown to bits. In typical insouciant savoir-faire, when recuperating in hospital, the Yorkshireman replied to the press, “it was all armless fun really’.

Crutchmore’s patent.

Celebrated as the “armless aviator”, Crutchmore toured the Empire extolling the virtues of loyalty, Empire, stoicism and single- mindedness. Although armless, Crutchmore was re-assigned to the 23rd fighter wing based at Ypres , (the famous ‘Wignell’s Wipers’ squadron) and was instrumental in developing ‘Cruthchmore’s flying finger’, a loose formation of fighters that combined both attack and defensive positions. Further refinements resulted in the development of “Crutchmore’s single finger” and “flying thumb”. All of which were adopted with great success by RFC crews. Crutchmore chose a pair of barbecue tongs as prosthesis for his right hand and an intricate prototype swiss army knife for his left hand, claiming; ‘that it gave him the facility to both pick his nose, fly an aeroplane, and protect the virtue of young ladies from the ravages of the evil Hun’.

Crutch’s last fight.

Crutch’s noble sacrifice. ‘So that we can be free and multinationals can rent-seek and pay no tax”, ( M.Turnbull P.M)

With an intricate system of improvised pulleys and wires, the “Crutchmore patent”, he was able to fly his plane, (a specially converted Sopwith Pup) with ease. Outpacing the germans in Immelman’s and out doing the famous ace Von Boelke with a sustained sequence of somersaults, half pikes and dives. To whit the ace declared him, ‘the true wizard of the air’, and Crutchmore returned the compliment to Boelke by pronouncing him as “Boelke the better type of Boche’. Niceties aside, the carnage in the air was unstoppable, and Crutchford after having flown several hundred sorties was picked to recuperate and lead flying instruction at the Point Cook RAAF base.

Crutchmore developed a unique auto pilot system by deploying a piano roll, an Imperial typewriter and the internals of “Dr Pulvermachers Self applicable Electric Belt”. To equip his Sopwith pup which he flew single-handedly from London to Melbourne. Upon arrival his request for a ‘cup of tea and the latest intra services test scores’ set the public into a state of wild adulation. The next week Crutchmore devoted himself feverishly to the training of his enthusiastic younger charges with the catch-cry, ‘I’ll bet you a hundred to one the Hun will come’. And that Spring they surely did. In his last encounter, Crutchmore depleted of ammunition, and badly wounded lost control when his piano roll auto pilot stalled in the key of B flat minor. He flew his damaged Pup into a close formation of two Albatross fighters. All aircraft plunged to the ground, and none survived, The epitaph in the Argus summed up the encounter. ‘At the very last, Crutchmore’s pup gave the Hun a damn good licking’.