Personographs.

NZ Truth, Issue 1197, 8 November 1928, Page 6

Personographs.

A BOLT FROM THE BLUE

YOUR real flying man is usually a prosaic, practical chap with a turn for mechanics rather than poetry. The heavens are the last resort m the world for a mind which is a mere register of thrills — or for a dreamer. We read of the Southern Cross dropping a few hundred feet m an airpocket, with a vicarious sensation of sudden, sickening descent through space to the black waters of the ocean. A mere incident, really, to the men who haunt the clouds.

But if kingsford Smith can drop a sheer 300 feet without losing nerve or grip upon his superb machine, there is at least one New Zealander who has tumbled a much greater heig-ht from the sky without losing his presence of mind. Not the sort of fall from the clouds due shortly to some politicians, but a spinning and fluttering to earth m an aeroplane shot down m enemy country. ' '..'■■'. Hugh Hamilton, of Westport, is essentially , a modest chap, and scouts the idea that wartime flying was a thrilling experience. Nevertheless, he was one of that deathless knighthood of the air — the lads who winged their Way over the • enemy lines, observing, dropping bombs, or engaging m Homeric encounter wjth enemy. 'planes. Familiarity breeds contempt. Not that a wise chap like Hugh forgot to respect the stern dangers, of his job, but skimming a trifle too low, a fragmehfof shrapnel rent his machine. Mother Earth for Hugh, but a mighty unkind Materfamilias for a year or two. First hospital, where unwelcome guests were 'invited to hurry up and become quick or 'dead — and then boresbme years of captivity. " A mistaken notion that frying men received a sort of favored prisoner-of-war status. Actually, it was a round of dreary prisons for Hamilton, with a sprinkling of bright human, touches upon a background of natural hostility. A few years now since Hugh felt the exhilaration of soaring into the azure, but it takes more than one fall to wean a birdman from his natural element. . ' '

An enthusiastic believer m the air as a great factor m future travel, he looks forward very soon to hopping in'his bus to his boyhood, town of Nelson — just for: : morning tea and back. .•■'.' ' . A genial chap, with a fund of quiet bonhomie, he is the sort of fellow m whom ths facujty of making friends is, as it were, bred m the bone.