War Service
Truscott joined the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) in July 1940, a move that attracted much publicity. He almost failed pilot training; among other problems it was ascertained that he had a poor ability to judge heights. In the words of the Australian Dictionary of Biography: " never fully came to terms with landing and persistently levelled out about 20 ft (6 m) too high." Nevertheless, Truscott completed flight training in Canada and joined No. 452 Squadron RAAF, flying Spitfires in England on 5 May 1941. He destroyed at least 16 Luftwaffe aircraft, was twice awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, and was made a flight commander.
Truscott was later made acting squadron leader and in 1942, Truscott was posted back to Australia where he joined 76 Squadron, flying Kittyhawks. By this stage Truscott was, along with Clive Caldwell, one of the most famous RAAF pilots.
Truscott's squadron was posted to Milne Bay, Papua and played a significant role in the Battle of Milne Bay where he was mentioned in dispatches for his actions. 76 Squadron was later transferred to Darwin, Northern Territory, for a time, and then Exmouth Gulf, Western Australia. Truscott was killed in an accident in Exmouth Gulf on 28 March 1943. His Kittyhawk hit the sea at high speed, after he made a mock diving attack against a low-flying Catalina. The surface of the sea was unusually smooth that day, and it is believed that Truscott misjudged its proximity. His body was recovered and he was buried at Karrakatta Cemetery, Perth.
Read more about this topic: Keith Truscott
Famous quotes containing the words war and/or service:
“I have never believed that war settled anything satisfactorily, but I am not entirely sure that some times there are certain situations in the world such as we have in actuality when a country is worse off when it does not go to war for its principles than if it went to war.”
—Eleanor Roosevelt (1884–1962)
“Night City was like a deranged experiment in Social Darwinism, designed by a bored researcher who kept one thumb permanently on the fast-forward button. Stop hustling and you sank without a trace, but move a little too swiftly and you’d break the fragile surface tension of the black market; either way, you were gone ... though heart or lungs or kidneys might survive in the service of some stranger with New Yen for the clinic tanks.”
—William Gibson (b. 1948)