Post by corsair67 on Apr 30, 2007 17:33:22 GMT 12
I'm a bit behind the times, but I thought I'd post this anyway.
Fighter ace crammed 10 lifetimes into one
Don Wormald
April 27, 2007.
Bobby Gibbes
Fighter pilot.
Born Young, NSW, May 6, 1916.
Died Mona Vale, NSW, April 11, aged 90.
ASK the average person to come up with an example of the quintessential Aussie swashbuckler and they'll probably nominate Errol Flynn. To those who knew him, Bobby Gibbes was the personification of that image but with a difference: his exploits were real, they weren't staged for the benefit of the cameras (with one notable exception).
With the death of Robert Henry Maxwell Gibbes, Australia has lost one of the last of a breed of World War II fighter aces, an exceptional character who fitted 10 lifetimes into one and survived against extraordinary odds.
Gibbes was born in Young, NSW, on May 6, 1916, and went from a life on the land to become the celebrated commanding officer of 3 Squadron RAAF in the Middle East during World War II. It has been said his name was known wherever fighter pilots gathered.
Following the end of the war and a brief flirtation with the land again, Gibbes and his beloved wife, Jean, started an airline in New Guinea, Gibbes Sepik Airways, servicing remote and inaccessible highland areas.
Most of us have seen documentary footage of impossible mountaintop landing strips in New Guinea with light aircraft making harrowing landings and take-offs. Chances are that it was Gibbes, or one of his pilots, at the controls.
Gibbes was small of stature but a giant of a man. With his impish sense of humour and twinkle in his eye, Gibbes dominated a room. From a young age I was privileged to sit quietly at the feet of the great aviators of yesteryear as they gathered over a rum or two in the lounge room of the Gibbeses' Collaroy house to swap their stories, and what stories they were.
These men didn't fly state-of-the art machinery with multiple redundant systems and fire-and-forget missiles. They brawled it out in dogfights between aircraft that were rudimentary at best, without an ejector seat. In this environment Gibbes excelled, racking up 12 1/2 enemy kills with other probables and possibles.
Gibbes's exploits became the stuff of legend. Wilbur Smith seems to have used one of his feats in a book. On a sortie, Gibbes's wingman went down in the desert. Not wanting to leave his mate and seeing Germans heading towards his downed colleague, Gibbes landed his single-cockpit fighter in the sand. The pair took off with Gibbes working the stick sitting on his mate's lap while his mate worked the pedals. On take-off the pair hit a rock, knocking off a wheel, but they were able to make a near-perfect landing with only one wheel intact.
Gibbes was proudest of the fact his precious aircraft was up and running again the next day.
Another time he went down more than 110km behind enemy lines. Hiding during the day and moving at night, Gibbes was able to make his way back to friendly lines, earning his membership in the Royal Escaping Society.
Not content with surviving World War II, Gibbes and his family moved to New Guinea to get into the airline business. Gibbes Sepik Airways and its pilots have been credited with opening up vast tracts of the New Guinea Highlands. But the development of this air service was not without its risks and tragedies. More than once Gibbes had to hightail it out of New Guinea following prangs.
The New Guinea system of payback is fast and ruthless and has to be overcome with a little distance and a lot of blood money. On one occasion the family had an anxious day waiting for news when the ABC reported Gibbes was killed in one such prang.
During their time in New Guinea, Bob and Jean Gibbes developed a coffee plantation, Tremearne, in Goroka.
The agent for the sale of Tremearne was one Bob Oatley, later of Rosemount and Southcorp fame, and a long-time friend. The Gibbeses were also involved in hotel development with their Bird of Paradise hotel-motels.
One of my favourite stories from New Guinea illustrates Gibbes's capacity for lateral thinking. His pilots were wary about flying into some of the strips he had built. Gibbes quickly came up with the perfect solution: he hired Nancy Bird (Walton) to blaze the trail. After she showed the way there wasn't a demur from any of the male pilots.
Following their withdrawal from New Guinea and the sale of their assets there, the Gibbeses bought a catamaran, which they kept in the Mediterranean for some years. Former Liberal prime minister John Gorton, a former World War II cargo pilot, was a guest on the boat, where they shared the odd rum.
Gibbes's big break in the movie business came when sailing the cat back home. Pulling into Ceylon (as Sri Lanka was then known), Gibbes found himself pressed into playing the part of a British high commissioner opposite sex kitten Ursula Andress. He wasn't asked to be in any other movies.
Gibbes had a healthy disrespect for mindless authority. He could also be quite quirky. He built an aeroplane in his upstairs lounge room at Collaroy in Sydney, much to Jean Gibbes's chagrin.
He kept flying as long as he could until he finally surrendered his licence well into his 80s. Flying really was his life and, despite failing health, he continued to attend as many functions as he could, flogging copies of his autobiography, with the proceeds going to a flying club.
Not averse to attention, Gibbes enjoyed the fact aviation buffs could buy a "Wing Commander" series model of a Supermarine Spitfire Mk VIII on the net complete with his personalised call sign and a miniature model of himself at the controls. (Yes, there is an aviation version of trainspotting.) David Lowy has Gibbes's restored last Spitfire at his aircraft museum at Temora, NSW. It came as a surprise to me to find this incredible pilot was in awe of the flying skills of David's father, Westfield magnate Frank Lowy. Gibbes regarded Lowy as one of the best Spitfire pilots.
As an aside for history buffs, the Gibbes family enjoyed the distinction of having owned both governor-general's houses. An ancestor, John Nathaniel Gibbes, owned the land now occupied by Admiralty House, the Governor-General's Sydney home, and it was during the Gibbes family ownership of Yarralumla, the Canberra official residence, that the second storey was added. John Nathaniel Gibbes was also a member of the first Legislative Council.
How the family was so well favoured in colonial NSW is another story involving royal hanky-panky and an embarrassing illegitimate child banished to a sinecure in the colonies. That really appealed to Gibbes's sense of humour.
Right now Wing Commander RHM Gibbes, DSO, DFC & Bar, OAM is probably sipping rum with mates with nicknames such as Blackjack and Lefty, arguing over which one has flown higher for longer.
Gibbes is survived by his wife of 62 years, Jean; his two daughters and their spouses, Richard and Julie Morse, and Greg and Robyn Apps; and grandchildren Anthony, Jodie, Matthew, Bobbie and James.
Fighter ace crammed 10 lifetimes into one
Don Wormald
April 27, 2007.
Bobby Gibbes
Fighter pilot.
Born Young, NSW, May 6, 1916.
Died Mona Vale, NSW, April 11, aged 90.
ASK the average person to come up with an example of the quintessential Aussie swashbuckler and they'll probably nominate Errol Flynn. To those who knew him, Bobby Gibbes was the personification of that image but with a difference: his exploits were real, they weren't staged for the benefit of the cameras (with one notable exception).
With the death of Robert Henry Maxwell Gibbes, Australia has lost one of the last of a breed of World War II fighter aces, an exceptional character who fitted 10 lifetimes into one and survived against extraordinary odds.
Gibbes was born in Young, NSW, on May 6, 1916, and went from a life on the land to become the celebrated commanding officer of 3 Squadron RAAF in the Middle East during World War II. It has been said his name was known wherever fighter pilots gathered.
Following the end of the war and a brief flirtation with the land again, Gibbes and his beloved wife, Jean, started an airline in New Guinea, Gibbes Sepik Airways, servicing remote and inaccessible highland areas.
Most of us have seen documentary footage of impossible mountaintop landing strips in New Guinea with light aircraft making harrowing landings and take-offs. Chances are that it was Gibbes, or one of his pilots, at the controls.
Gibbes was small of stature but a giant of a man. With his impish sense of humour and twinkle in his eye, Gibbes dominated a room. From a young age I was privileged to sit quietly at the feet of the great aviators of yesteryear as they gathered over a rum or two in the lounge room of the Gibbeses' Collaroy house to swap their stories, and what stories they were.
These men didn't fly state-of-the art machinery with multiple redundant systems and fire-and-forget missiles. They brawled it out in dogfights between aircraft that were rudimentary at best, without an ejector seat. In this environment Gibbes excelled, racking up 12 1/2 enemy kills with other probables and possibles.
Gibbes's exploits became the stuff of legend. Wilbur Smith seems to have used one of his feats in a book. On a sortie, Gibbes's wingman went down in the desert. Not wanting to leave his mate and seeing Germans heading towards his downed colleague, Gibbes landed his single-cockpit fighter in the sand. The pair took off with Gibbes working the stick sitting on his mate's lap while his mate worked the pedals. On take-off the pair hit a rock, knocking off a wheel, but they were able to make a near-perfect landing with only one wheel intact.
Gibbes was proudest of the fact his precious aircraft was up and running again the next day.
Another time he went down more than 110km behind enemy lines. Hiding during the day and moving at night, Gibbes was able to make his way back to friendly lines, earning his membership in the Royal Escaping Society.
Not content with surviving World War II, Gibbes and his family moved to New Guinea to get into the airline business. Gibbes Sepik Airways and its pilots have been credited with opening up vast tracts of the New Guinea Highlands. But the development of this air service was not without its risks and tragedies. More than once Gibbes had to hightail it out of New Guinea following prangs.
The New Guinea system of payback is fast and ruthless and has to be overcome with a little distance and a lot of blood money. On one occasion the family had an anxious day waiting for news when the ABC reported Gibbes was killed in one such prang.
During their time in New Guinea, Bob and Jean Gibbes developed a coffee plantation, Tremearne, in Goroka.
The agent for the sale of Tremearne was one Bob Oatley, later of Rosemount and Southcorp fame, and a long-time friend. The Gibbeses were also involved in hotel development with their Bird of Paradise hotel-motels.
One of my favourite stories from New Guinea illustrates Gibbes's capacity for lateral thinking. His pilots were wary about flying into some of the strips he had built. Gibbes quickly came up with the perfect solution: he hired Nancy Bird (Walton) to blaze the trail. After she showed the way there wasn't a demur from any of the male pilots.
Following their withdrawal from New Guinea and the sale of their assets there, the Gibbeses bought a catamaran, which they kept in the Mediterranean for some years. Former Liberal prime minister John Gorton, a former World War II cargo pilot, was a guest on the boat, where they shared the odd rum.
Gibbes's big break in the movie business came when sailing the cat back home. Pulling into Ceylon (as Sri Lanka was then known), Gibbes found himself pressed into playing the part of a British high commissioner opposite sex kitten Ursula Andress. He wasn't asked to be in any other movies.
Gibbes had a healthy disrespect for mindless authority. He could also be quite quirky. He built an aeroplane in his upstairs lounge room at Collaroy in Sydney, much to Jean Gibbes's chagrin.
He kept flying as long as he could until he finally surrendered his licence well into his 80s. Flying really was his life and, despite failing health, he continued to attend as many functions as he could, flogging copies of his autobiography, with the proceeds going to a flying club.
Not averse to attention, Gibbes enjoyed the fact aviation buffs could buy a "Wing Commander" series model of a Supermarine Spitfire Mk VIII on the net complete with his personalised call sign and a miniature model of himself at the controls. (Yes, there is an aviation version of trainspotting.) David Lowy has Gibbes's restored last Spitfire at his aircraft museum at Temora, NSW. It came as a surprise to me to find this incredible pilot was in awe of the flying skills of David's father, Westfield magnate Frank Lowy. Gibbes regarded Lowy as one of the best Spitfire pilots.
As an aside for history buffs, the Gibbes family enjoyed the distinction of having owned both governor-general's houses. An ancestor, John Nathaniel Gibbes, owned the land now occupied by Admiralty House, the Governor-General's Sydney home, and it was during the Gibbes family ownership of Yarralumla, the Canberra official residence, that the second storey was added. John Nathaniel Gibbes was also a member of the first Legislative Council.
How the family was so well favoured in colonial NSW is another story involving royal hanky-panky and an embarrassing illegitimate child banished to a sinecure in the colonies. That really appealed to Gibbes's sense of humour.
Right now Wing Commander RHM Gibbes, DSO, DFC & Bar, OAM is probably sipping rum with mates with nicknames such as Blackjack and Lefty, arguing over which one has flown higher for longer.
Gibbes is survived by his wife of 62 years, Jean; his two daughters and their spouses, Richard and Julie Morse, and Greg and Robyn Apps; and grandchildren Anthony, Jodie, Matthew, Bobbie and James.
