The following story of Willie McKnight has been copied from the Calgary Mosquito Aircraft Society's website:
The Calgary Mosquito Society
PART 1
One of the most distinguished aces of that early period (1939-1940), William Lidstone "Willie" McKnight, was born in Edmonton and grew up in Calgary, Alberta. He had enlisted in February 1939 and started flight training in England at No. 6 Flying Training School (FTS), Little Rissington, Bourton-on-the-Water, Cheltenham, in late April. McKnight's letters to friends back home (held by Library and Archives Canada in Ottawa) reveal a self-confident, argumentative scrapper, sure of himself and his flying abilities and forthright in his opinions of those around him. Typical of many future fighter pilots, he conflicted with RAF authority. Despite or because of his obvious potential, he lacked the appropriate humility expected of a novice. He was confined to barracks for fourteen days at least twice, and he and a classmate were put on open arrest for "being perpetrators of a riot."
Willie McKnight had left behind a girlfriend named Marian in Alberta whom, in his own opinion, he had treated badly and whom he missed very much. Even though she might never see him again or even wanted to talk to him, Willie believed that he was changing and hinted in a letter home that perhaps Marian, with whom he had had a tumultuous relationship, would approve of the new person he was becoming.
After September 1939, life became much more serious for McKnight and his classmates. The RAF stopped being akin to a flying club and went on a seven-day-a-week work schedule that allowed limited sleep, bad food, and stomach upsets. The latter were caused by the bad food to which the Canadian fellows were more susceptible, or so McKnight declared.
In November he arrived at 242 Squadron, a newly formed, predominantly Canadian-staffed RAF squadron commanded by an RCAF squadron leader on exchange with the RAF. During the quiet period of the so-called Phoney War, 242 trained for operations, not flying sorties until March 1940 and not fighting its first successful battles until May 1940 in the skies of France.
McKnight scored the first victory for 242 Squadron on May 19 over Cambrai, France, in a region much disputed by Canadian fighter pilots during the First World War. All through the Battle of France and the Battle of Britain, he demonstrated again and again his natural talent for aerial combat, achieving about eighteen victories flying a Hurricane. He became an ace with five victories in a mere ten days, between May 19 and 29. His friendly rivals for top score at 242 were, first, Stan Turner, and then, with his arrival to command 242 on June 20, Squadron Leader Douglas Bader.
Bader was quoted in Reach for the Sky (Paul Brickhill's biography of Bader) as saying that McKnight was a great fighter pilot, with "flinty eyes." In Bader's opinion, he was characteristically Canadian: fearless and aggressive. Bader recalled that McKnight had a taste for romantic music, and insisted on playing and replaying his large collection of Bing Crosby records in the evenings in the officer's mess.
There is no doubt that the realities of war, combined with his drive to excel, aged Willie in a few burning months. Operations over France and over the English Channel eliminated his lighthearted banter in letter home. In February 1940 he complained to H.F. "Mike" Pegler of 1221 5th St. in Calgary about night formation flying in the Hurricane:
It's the most hair-raising thing I've ever done. Before the war you could use the navigation lights of the leader as a mark to formate on but as we're not allowed to use navigation lights we have to use the exhaust flames as a guide. Most of us have grown half a head of grey hair since we started and we hope never have to do it again once we've got it "buttoned up" ...I've been made a section leader which means I lead one formation of three machines in the flight (there are six in a flight) and it sure is good fun except I'm not so keen on the responsibility. It's alright but I'd sooner be No. 2 in a formation any day where you've got the best position and only half the responsibility.
The first time that McKnight saw a corpse up close was at RAF Station Church Fenton, Tadcaster, Yorkshire.
We had a rather unfortunate accident here the other day - one of our new Canadian corporals was leaning against the wing of one of the machines when an armourer inside the cockpit pushed the gun tit and blew the top of his head off. It sure made a mess of him, so now they've fitted a few more safety devices to our remote control button just to make it harder for us. Every time some dumb airman pulls a trick like that they make it harder for the pilots to use the guns when he needs them. I was the first officer around after the accident and got one perfectly good tunic spoilt with blood and brains splashed all over it.
McKnight's letter is by no means unique. Young men writing letters home from the war often had an impulse to shock. The same can be seen in letters of pilots in the First World War. It likely is a method to dissipate the horror of being a witness to wartime events.
