The remarkable life of 'Paddy' John Hemingway, the last Battle of Britain pilot
The last surviving pilot who fought in the Battle of Britain has died.
Group Captain John "Paddy" Hemingway, who was from Dublin, died on St Patrick's Day at the age of 105.
The Royal Air Force (RAF) said Hemingway "passed away peacefully" on Monday, the last of "The Few", the name coined by then prime minister Winston Churchill to describe the Battle of Britain pilots.
Churchill had said: "Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few."
The current prime minister Sir Keir Starmer was among those to pay tribute to Hemingway, who was shot down four times during the Second World War.
In an interview with the BBC in 2023, Hemingway said: "I was shot down many times but I'm still here. So many others were shot down first time and that was the end of them. I was lucky. And I'm still lucky."
Hemingway was born on 17 July 1919 in Dublin and as a child attended St Patrick's Cathedral Choir School and St Andrew's College.
Hemingway was accepted into the Royal Air Force and began training in Brough, East Riding of Yorkshire, in January 1939, before being appointed a pilot officer two months later.
Hemingway flew his single-seater Hurricane fighter aircraft in the Battle of France, providing cover in the form of dogfights and patrols to the allied troops as they retreated to the beaches of Dunkirk.
During an 11-day period in May 1940, Hemingway's No. 85 Squadron shot down 90 enemy Luftwaffe aircraft. On 10 May, he was recorded as destroying a He 111 bomber and the next day he took down a Do 17 fighter, but his Hurricane was hit by anti-aircraft fire and he had to make a forced landing, before all Allied pilots, aircraft and crews returned to the UK.
Hemingway played a key role in the three-month Battle of Britain between July and October 1940, under No. 85 Squadron's new commanding officer, Peter Townsend, who would later go on to have a romance with Princess Margaret, the sister of Queen Elizabeth II.
Hemingway said of Townsend: "He was a very nice person and a very good leader. He always went in first."
Their squadron became one of those on the front line of the 11 Group (Fighter Command) responding to daily attacks from Nazi aircraft.
He was twice forced to bail out of his Hurricane in dogfights in August 1940, once landing in the sea off the coast of Essex and in marshland on another occasion.
The wreckage of his Hurricane was recovered decades later in 2019 with the control column and the gun-button still set to "fire".
Hemingway said of dogfights: "There were two of you. One of you was going to be dead at the end. You thought: 'Make sure that person was not you.'
"Every day, off you went. When you took off you knew some of you would come back - and some of you wouldn't."
A photo of Hemingway looking skyward was published in the US magazine Life.
On 1 July 1941, Hemingway was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, given to RAF personnel for acts of valour, courage or devotion to duty while flying on active operations. While on his way to London to receive his medal from the King, he was forced to abandon his Blenheim aircraft after it crashed during take-off.
In the same year, while flying a Havoc night fighter with No. 85 Squadron based at RAF Hunsdon, Hemingway had to bail out at 600ft because of instrument failure in bad weather, and broke his hand on the tail section. His parachute failed to open properly and he was spared further injury when his chute caught on the branches of a tree.
In January 1944, Hemingway was made a temporary squadron leader and served as an air traffic controller during the Allied invasion of Normandy on D-Day.
He had to bail out a fourth time in April 1945 while serving in the Mediterranean Allied Air Forces and fighting near Ravenna in Italy. His Spitfire was hit multiple times by anti-aircraft fire and he parachuted into enemy territory, but managed to contact Italian partisans who helped him find his way back to his squadron. Hemingway retired from the RAF in 1969 as a Group Captain.
Hemingway said two years ago he put his long life down to "Irish luck".
He told the BBC: "I'm not a great man - I'm just a lucky man. I don't think we ever assumed greatness of any form. We were just fighting a war which we were trained to fight.
"We were doing a job we were employed to do. We just went up and did the best we could."
Hemingway became the last surviving member of The Few in May 2020, following the death at the age of 101 of former radar operator Terry Clark.
Hemingway spent the last few years of his life back in Dublin, living in a care home.
Air Chief Marshal Sir Rich Knighton, head of the RAF, said: "It is with great sadness that I heard of the passing of John 'Paddy' Hemingway. I am thankful that I was able to meet and spend time with him in Dublin, most recently in January this year.
"Paddy was an amazing character whose life story embodies all that was and remains great about the Royal Air Force. Throughout his life he inspired those he knew and served with."
The Prince of Wales said: 'I was sad to hear about the passing of John 'Paddy' Hemingway this morning, the last of 'The Few'.
'We owe so much to Paddy and his generation for our freedoms today. Their bravery and sacrifice will always be remembered. We shall never forget them.'
Prime minister Sir Keir Starmer said: 'Eighty years ago, the courage and determination of Paddy and all our brave RAF pilots helped bring an end to the Second World War.
'They fearlessly flew over enemy territory to protect the UK and its Allies, risking their lives.
'He never considered himself a hero and often referred to himself as the 'Lucky Irishman', a man simply doing his job, like so many others of his generation."
Defence secretary John Healey said: 'Paddy came from a generation who understood the importance of freedom and sacrificed so much to achieve it.
'The last known Battle of Britain pilot, he embodied the deep courage of that incredible generation.'
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
13 hours ago
- Yahoo
He was at the center of a Supreme Court case that changed gay marriage. Now, he's worried.
When Jim Obergefell was sitting in the gallery at the Supreme Court on June 26, 2015, he was waiting to hear his name. The justices were preparing to rule on Obergefell v. Hodges, a case that became a landmark in the progress toward LGBTQ+ rights in the U.S. The case, which considered the rights of same-sex couples to marry, ultimately won favor with a majority of the justices, but for Obergefell, the moment wasn't, and could never be, totally complete. His husband, John Arthur, died years before the ruling was announced. Now, 10 years on, he sat down with USA TODAY to reflect on how their love for each other helped shape the fight for marriage equality in the U.S., and what progress there is to still be made in the fight for equality. Obergefell and Arthur met in 1992 and became engaged in 1993. That's when their journey as marriage equality pioneers first began – and for Obergefell, continues into the present. This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. Question: You got engaged with a traditional diamond ring, even though there was no formal option for marriage. What did that ring mean to you in 1993? Answer: You know, that diamond ring signified you're the person I choose. You're the person I want to spend my life with, and we don't have the ability to do anything legal, but at least you know that's how I feel. And from there, what was your journey to get married? John and I just built a life together. We bought our first house. We built a great circle of friends and family in Cincinnati, people who saw us and treated us as a couple, as a committed couple. It wasn't until 2011 that things really took an unexpected turn. John was diagnosed with ALS. Instead of seeing a few decades more together, we knew our time together was limited to two to five years or less. John progressed fairly rapidly, and by April of 2013 he started at home hospice care. We could have put him in a facility, but we had to think about things that other couples didn't have to think about. How would he be treated as a gay man in a facility? How would I be treated as his partner of almost 21 years? We had nothing legal, no rights and we made the decision: Let's do at-home hospice care because that meant I could keep him safe and comfortable. Important: Stonewall veterans sound alarm over Trump's attempt to erase trans history At what point did you really start to feel like you needed to fight for this for legal marriage recognition? On June 26, 2013, I was standing next to his bed holding his hand when news came out from the Supreme Court that with their decision in the United States v. Windsor, they struck down the federal Defense of Marriage Act. That was that law that defined marriage as between only one man and one woman. And we hadn't talked about marriage again since the mid-90s. But as that news was sinking in, I realized, wait, we've always wanted to get married. Here's our chance we could get married and at least have the federal government see us, recognize us, treat us as a married couple. So I spontaneously proposed and he said, yes. How did you go from this discussion to eventually suing the state and ultimately winding up in the Supreme Court? Because we lived in Ohio, which had its own state-level Defense of Marriage Act, we couldn't get a marriage license or get married at home. Through the generosity of our family and friends, they covered the cost of a chartered medical jet. And we flew from Cincinnati to Baltimore-Washington International Airport on July 11, 2013. We stayed in that medical jet (on the tarmac). And I got to take his hand, and we got to say "I do." A local civil rights attorney read about our story in the Cincinnati Enquirer, and he reached out through mutual friends to say, 'hey, I would like to come talk to you because you have a problem you probably haven't thought about.' Five days after we got married, Al Gerhardstein came to our home and he pulled out a blank Ohio death certificate. 'When John dies, this document, his last record as a person, will be wrong,' he said, 'because here, where it says marital status at time of death, Ohio will fill this out and say that John was unmarried. In the space for surviving spouse name, Jim, your name won't be there.' John and I knew Ohio wouldn't recognize our marriage. But that was abstract. That document, knowing that John's last record would be wrong, made that abstract understanding real. And it hurt. It made us angry. So when (Al) said, 'Do you want to do something about it?' (John and I) talked about it for less than a minute and said yes. So that was Tuesday, five days after we got married. On Friday, eight days after we got married, we filed a lawsuit in federal district court suing the governor of Ohio, John Kasich, and the attorney general, Mike DeWine. Because of John's health, the federal judge had to clear his docket, and he heard arguments on the case on Monday, 11 days after we got married. And that very day, he ruled in our favor. And then John died three months later to the day, but he died a married man. So the record was correct at his time of death. And your name is on his death certificate, but the the fight didn't stop there. The judge ruled in your favor, but it went on to an appeal and got overturned. How did you decide at that point, once the record was correct in your paperwork, that you were going to keep on with the fight? When Al said, 'do you want to keep fighting?' my immediate answer was, 'of course I do.' If I don't, I'm not living up to my promises to John. I promised to love, honor and protect him. And if I don't keep fighting this to make sure our marriage can't be erased, then I'm failing in my promises. How did gay marriage become legal? Civil unions in this state paved the way 25 years ago. I've seen in other interviews you've said that you never really considered yourself an activist. So how did you go from Jim from Ohio, to suing the state of Ohio and becoming a gay rights figurehead? It's because of John, because we loved each other and we wanted to exist. Learning that our right to call each other husband and to have it mean something wasn't going to be reflected on his death certificate, it broke our hearts, but I think the more important thing is it really made us angry. I loved John. He loved me back. We finally had the chance to say I do. But then understanding how our home state, the state where I was born and raised, would completely disregard us, made me angry, made us both angry. It's amazing what will happen when you love someone enough, when you're willing to fight for what you know is right. You were in D.C. the day the decision came down, like, what was that experience like, and what were you thinking about? I thought about John missing him, loving him. I thought about so many people who I had met over the course of the case, the people who were coming up to me and sharing photos and telling me stories and talking about what this potential decision meant to them and what it meant to the person they loved. And then just the unexpected realization that for the first time in my life as a gay man, I actually felt like an equal American. I wasn't expecting to feel that, and that was a really beautiful realization. I feel equal. In case you missed: Portion of Americans satisfied with US stance on LGBTQ is lowest in decade And now you are in the history books. What does that feel like? When I really feel the the importance of this is every single time someone stops me, hugs me, starts crying, shares photos of their family, of their spouse, of their child, and tells me stories. It's a gift every single time it happens, because I see in their faces what marriage equality meant to them, to their family, to their loved ones. Are you nervous that Obergefell might be overturned one day? And what do you think the biggest fight our community faces right now is? Yes, I'm worried about marriage equality. If Obergefell is overturned, we go back to a time or a place where a queer couple in Ohio, where I live, might want to get married, but Ohio could refuse to issue a marriage license because Ohio still has a state level Defense of Marriage Act on the books. Our biggest challenge is making sure we don't lose the progress we have made. We have to be fighting together to make sure every marginalized community keeps the rights that they have gained. We can't do this alone. We have to be fighting for every marginalized community, not just ours. And unfortunately, right now, the trans community, they're bearing the brunt of it. What do you tell young people now, given all of the challenges that we just discussed, what do you say to give them continued hope? The most important thing is they're not alone. There are countless people like me who are activists, who are involved, who care and are out there fighting on the street, in our state legislatures, in the halls of government. There are millions of people out there who believe in their humanity, in their dignity and their right to a future. Zach Wichter is a travel reporter and writes the Cruising Altitude column for USA TODAY. He is based in New York and you can reach him at zwichter@ This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Jim Obergefell on LGBTQ+ rights 10 years after Supreme Court ruling

Yahoo
21 hours ago
- Yahoo
John JD David Gates With deep sadness we announce the
Jun. 10—John JD David Gates With deep sadness we announce the passing of John David Gates (J.D.), 68, a dedicated advocate for Indigenous rights and representation, SAG actor, and respected educator. An enrolled member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe, John died on February 27, 2025, leaving a legacy of contributions to federal Indian law and policy. Born in Gallup, New Mexico, John earned degrees from the University of New Mexico and the University of Iowa College of Law. He served as tribal prosecutor and judge pro tem for the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe and Pueblo of Laguna. John taught Native American Studies at the University of New Mexico, Cultural Studies at Central New Mexico Community College, and contributed to Indigenous education globally as a Fulbright Senior Scholar at the University of Bonn, Germany. He was a faculty member at the Evergreen State College in Tribal Governance and recently served with Albuquerque Public Schools supporting Native American students. John lived with a fierce joy recognizing that each moment in life is unique. He did not suffer fools gladly and was forever prepared to argue for equity and justice. He loved his friends dearly, and showed them a gentle kindness he did not often share with the world at large. John Gates, who was such a powerful presence in life, remains so in the hearts of those who loved him. He is survived by stepmother Alice Gates and half brother Edward Gates, both of Ohio, and by his friends and all whose lives he touched. A memorial service will be held at Los Duranes Community Center, 2920 Leopoldo Rd NW, Albuquerque, NM, on June 21, 2025 from 11 am to 1 pm. (Potluck donations appreciated.) In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to organizations supporting Indigenous education and legal advocacy.
Yahoo
21 hours ago
- Yahoo
Airfield falls silent to remember Old Sarum squadrons with key role in WWII
OLD Sarum Airfield fell silent on Tuesday morning (June 10) to commemorate specialist squadrons founded during the Second World War. Several Air Observation Post (AOP) squadrons were founded at the former RAF airfield in the early 1940s, including Squadron 653, which moved to Normandy in June 1944 and supported the Army in France and the Netherlands. During the war, AOP squadrons flew unarmed aircraft to spot enemy targets, radioing their locations to direct artillery fire. Veterans and serving members of the Army Air Corps watch the memorial service (Image: Spencer Mulholland) Later, in 1957, the Army Air Corps (AAC) was created from the foundations of the Glider Pilot Regiment and Air Observation Post Squadrons. Veterans in the Air Observation Post Association were joined by past and present members of the AAC at the airfield on Tuesday to commemorate the formation of Squadron 653, 83 years on. The AAC flew an Apache helicopter to the airfield at 10am, and the ceremony began next to a memorial dedicated to AOP squadrons an hour later. Lieutenant General Sir Gary Coward, president of the Air Observation Post Association, served in the 653 in Germany in the early 1980s. During the ceremony, he said: 'We are here today to commemorate the formation of 653 Squadron in June 1942; one of 12 British Air OP squadrons created during the Second World War. During that conflict, 117 members of the Air OP made the supreme sacrifice. 'Their courage was recognised by the award of two DSOs (Distinguished Service Order), five MCs (Military Cross), 132 DFCs (Distinguished Flying Cross), a DFM (Distinguished Flying Medal) and a Military Medal. 'Eighty-three years on, we will remember them. 'A number of us here today serve, and have served, in 653 Squadron, continuing the proud traditions first laid down here at Old Sarum in 1942, in Normandy in 1944 and beyond.' An Apache helicopter landed on the grass airstrip at 10am (Image: Spencer Mulholland) He told the assembled crowd that his father-in-law had also served in the squadron in Normandy as a flight medic. He said: 'It took a while, and a few whiskeys, to draw these memories out of him in later life.' The service took place next to Hangar 3, a First World War structure that was badly damaged by a large fire in April. Read more: Salisbury Business Expo set to welcome hundreds of firms Read more: Salisbury runners unite against cancer and raise £53k Sir Gary said: 'On behalf of the association, can I thank the airfield owner, Mr Grenville Hodge, and his team for allowing us to hold this event today, and for remediating the site after the tragic events of April 17.' He also thanked the Boscombe Down Aviation Collection for supporting the event and his fellow members of the Air Observation Post Association committee. Attendees then enjoyed a tour of the aviation collection and a buffet lunch.