As I get nearer to the end of life's proverbial 'runway', it's interesting to look back to where my great passion for Spitfires started. I can remember reading the flying adventures of Matt Braddock VC in the Rover comic of the early 1950s and, living on the approach to RAF Northolt, I was used to the continuous comings and goings of BEA Vikings and DC-3s. Then one day, it would be in 1953, walking home with friends from junior school we were suddenly treated to the most magnificent sight and exhilarating sound of a continuous stream of aircraft of all shapes and sizes heading toward Northolt at relatively low level. The procession seemed to be endless and it made a very deep impression on me.
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