Richard Hillary facts for kids

Memorial to Richard Hillary and his crew near Charterhall

Richard Hope Hillary (born April 20, 1919 – died January 8, 1943) was a brave Royal Air Force fighter pilot during the Second World War. He was born in Australia but grew up in England. Richard Hillary wrote a famous book called The Last Enemy. This book shared his experiences during the tough Battle of Britain.

Early Life and Education

Richard Hillary's parents were Michael and Edwyna Hillary. His father worked for the Australian government. Richard was sent to England for his schooling. He attended Shrewsbury School and later Trinity College, Oxford. He lived with his parents until he was seven. After that, he only saw them during summer breaks.

While at Oxford, Richard was involved in sports. He rowed for Trinity College in 1938. He also joined the Oxford University Air Squadron. This group helped train future pilots. In 1939, he joined the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve. Richard Hillary was also a descendant of Sir William Hillary. Sir William was the person who started the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. This group helps save lives at sea.

Fighting in World War II

Richard Hillary joined the Royal Air Force in October 1939. By July 1940, he had finished his training. He was then sent to No. 603 Squadron RAF. His squadron was based at RAF Montrose and flew Spitfire planes.

The squadron moved south to RAF Hornchurch in August 1940. They immediately started fighting. In just one week, Hillary shot down five enemy planes. He also likely destroyed two more and damaged one.

Richard Hillary wrote about flying a Spitfire in his book The Last Enemy:

The Spitfires stood in two lines outside 'A' Flight pilots' room. The dull grey-brown of the camouflage could not conceal the clear-cut beauty, the wicked simplicity of their lines. I hooked up my parachute and climbed awkwardly into the low cockpit. I noticed how small was my field of vision. Kilmartin swung himself on to a wing and started to run through the instruments. I was conscious of his voice, but heard nothing of what he said. I was to fly a Spitfire. It was what I had most wanted through all the long dreary months of training. If I could fly a Spitfire, it would be worth it. Well, I was about to achieve my ambition and felt nothing. I was numb, neither exhilarated nor scared. I noticed the white enamel undercarriage handle. "Like a lavatory plug," I thought.

Kilmartin had said, "See if you can make her talk." That meant the whole bag of tricks, and I wanted ample room for mistakes and possible blacking-out. With one or two very sharp movements on the stick I blacked myself out for a few seconds, but the machine was sweeter to handle than any other that I had flown. I put it through every manoeuvre that I knew of and it responded beautifully. I ended with two flick rolls and turned back for home. I was filled with a sudden exhilarating confidence. I could fly a Spitfire; in any position I was its master. It remained to be seen whether I could fight in one.

Shot Down in Battle

On September 3, 1940, Richard Hillary shot down his fifth enemy plane. Right after this, his own plane was hit. A Messerschmitt Bf 109 flown by Helmuth Bode shot him down.

Richard described the moment he was shot down:

I was peering anxiously ahead, for the controller had given us warning of at least fifty enemy fighters approaching very high. When we did first sight them, nobody shouted, as I think we all saw them at the same moment. They must have been 500 to 1,000 feet above us and coming straight on like a swarm of locusts. I remember cursing and going automatically into line astern; the next moment we were in among them and it was each man for himself. As soon as they saw us they spread out and dived, and the next ten minutes was a blur of twisting machines and tracer bullets. One Messerschmitt went down in a sheet of flame on my right, and a Spitfire hurtled past in a half-roll; I was weaving and turning in a desperate attempt to gain height, with the machine practically hanging on the airscrew.

Then, just below me and to my left, I saw what I had been praying for – a Messerschmitt climbing and away from the sun. I closed in to 200 yards, and from slightly to one side gave him a two-second burst: fabric ripped off the wing and black smoke poured from the engine, but he did not go down. Like a fool, I did not break away, but put in another three-second burst. Red flames shot upwards and he spiralled out of sight. At that moment, I felt a terrific explosion which knocked the control stick from my hand, and the whole machine quivered like a stricken animal. In a second, the cockpit was a mass of flames: instinctively, I reached up to open the hood. It would not move. I tore off my straps and managed to force it back; but this took time, and when I dropped back into the seat and reached for the stick in an effort to turn the plane on its back, the heat was so intense that I could feel myself going. I remember a second of sharp agony, remember thinking "So this is it!" and putting both hands to my eyes. Then I passed out.

Richard could not get out of his burning plane right away. He suffered serious burns to his face and hands. He fell out of the damaged Spitfire while unconscious. He woke up while falling and managed to open his parachute. He landed in the North Sea. Luckily, a lifeboat from Margate rescued him.

Recovery and Writing

Richard Hillary was taken to the Royal Masonic Hospital in London. Later, he went to the Queen Victoria Hospital in East Grinstead. There, a surgeon named Archibald McIndoe helped him. Richard had many surgeries over three months. Doctors worked to fix the damage to his hands and face. He became a well-known member of McIndoe's "Guinea Pig Club". This club was for pilots who had been badly burned and were recovering.

He wrote about his recovery in his book, The Last Enemy:

Gradually I realized what had happened. My face and hands had been scrubbed and then sprayed with tannic acid. [...] My arms were propped up in front of me, the fingers extended like witches' claws, and my body was hung loosely on straps just clear of the bed.

Shortly after my arrival at the Masonic the Air Force plastic surgeon, A. H. McIndoe, had come up to see me. [...] Of medium height, he was thick-set and the line of his jaw was square. Behind his horn-rimmed spectacles a pair of tired friendly eyes regarded me speculatively.

"Well," he said, "you certainly made a thorough job of it, didn't you?" He started to undo the dressings on my hands and I noticed his fingers – blunt, capable, incisive. By now all the tannic had been removed from my face and hands. He took a scalpel and tapped lightly on something white showing through the red granulating knuckle of my right forefinger. "Bone," he remarked laconically. He looked at the badly contracted eyelids and the rapidly forming keloids, and pursed his lips. "Four new eyelids, I'm afraid, but you're not ready for them yet. I want all this skin to soften up a lot first."

This time when the dressings were taken down I looked exactly like an orang-outang. McIndoe had pinched out two semicircular ledges of skin under my eyes to allow for contraction of the new lids. What was not absorbed was to be sliced off when I came in for my next operation, a new upper lip.

In 1941, Richard Hillary went to America. He spoke on the radio to help gain support for Britain's war efforts. While there, he wrote much of his book, The Last Enemy.

Even with his injuries, Richard managed to return to flying. He went back to service at RAF Charterhall. He was training to fly night fighter aircraft.

Richard Hillary's Death

Richard Hillary died on January 8, 1943. He was 23 years old. He was flying a Bristol Blenheim night fighter during a training flight. The weather was bad, and his plane crashed in Scotland. His Navigator/Radio Operator, Sgt. Wilfred Fison, also died in the crash.

His funeral was held in London. His ashes were later scattered over the English Channel. This was done by his former commanding officer, Wing Commander George Denholm.

Remembering Richard Hillary

In 2001, a memorial was put up for Richard Hillary. It is located near the old RAF Charterhall site in Scotland.

His story is also remembered at Trinity College, Oxford. The college has an annual literature prize in his honor. There is also a portrait of him outside the college library. Since 1992, an annual lecture has been given in his honor. Many famous writers have given these lectures.

Books by Richard Hillary

• Richard H. Hillary, The Last Enemy ISBN: 0-88751-103-1 (1942)
• The book was translated into other languages.
  • German translation: Der letzte Feind (Zürich, 1942)
  • French translation: La dernière victoire (London, 1944)
  • Spanish translation: El último enemigo (Barcelona, 2012)