We Have A Great Day Out In London

We Have A Great Day Out In London

It was well worth waiting for: The Battle of Britain Luncheon at the RAF Club in Piccadilly had originally been set to take place on Friday, 16 September, but in respect for her late Majesty Queen Elizabeth, it had been agreed to postpone it, until the official time of mourning was over. 

We were so happy when we heard from the Royal Society of St George that Friday, 7 October, was the new day chosen for the luncheon; we were all free, and able to attend as planned.  

In spite of weather warnings for showers (according to the weather report, "maybe heavy later"!) we drove into town; the journey took rather longer than usual, because the traffic was extremely heavy, due to disruption by demonstrations by Extinction Rebellion. This was alright for us, because we had left in such good time to allow for any such problems, but I always feel sorry for other people who have been caught up and severely inconvenienced by this disruption: I'm thinking of ambulances trying to get very ill people to hospital, firefighters on call to a fire, or folks desperately wanting to visit loved ones who are ill. 

Heigh ho, that's my little "rant" for the day! and we arrived at the car park in Arlington Street in good time. It was a lovely stroll down Piccadilly; we walked past the gates of Green Park, where there are still a few bouquets of flowers left by the public on 19 September, entwined in the railings. They are all nearly faded now, but the sentiment so many people felt is still evident, and a poignant reminder of the Queen.

The RAF Club is housed in a beautiful building, with the ground floor dedicated to information about modern aircraft, and upstairs showcasing older history. After a champagne reception, we climbed a magnificent staircase up to the dining room; we were seated with 6 other people, all very interesting and with their own tales to tell.

The food was right up my street - leek and potato soup, fish and a trifle for pudding - and a lovely pot of tea to round off the meal. 

However, the best part was still to come. The Speaker, Dr Emily Mayhew, gave one of the most brilliantly interesting speeches we have ever had the pleasure to hear. 

Her theme was the treatment and recovery of Air Force personnel who have been badly burned during their service; at recent times particularly with reference to Afghanistan and Iran, but earlier with the pilots and air crew who who fought in WW2.

During that time, it was soon realised that it was not enough to just save a young man's life; injuries were mainly focussed on the face and hands, and Archibald McKindoe, a New Zealand plastic surgeon, began introducing new ways of helping the injured personnel. Treatment usually involved multiple operations, but it was not enough just to restore some sort of physically acceptable result for these men; they also needed to know they were still valued members of society, still needed in the RAF and therefore given a great psychological impetus to aid their recovery.  During this time, a group of servicemen also became the first members of "The Guinea Pig Club." 

We were told how one day they got hold of a bottle of sherry, "off ration," and met up for a drink in a park, and it was there the foundations for the club were laid. Requirements of membership were heavy, as every man had had to have had at least 10 operations, and be receiving on-going treatment at East Grinstead. 

The young nurses who tended the patients also played their part in convincing the men they were still attractive and that their personalities could flourish and overcome any physical deformities. When they were fit enough to go into the town of East Grinstead, they wore their uniforms which reinforced their pride in that, in spite of what they had been through, and their once-handsome faces ravaged by burns, they were still valuable members of society. Another remarkable aspect was that the townsfolk accepted them wholeheartedly into the community, and never looked at anyone with severe disfigurements as being ugly or frightening; East Grinstead became known as "The town that never stared," surely one of the best compliments that could have been bestowed on it.

I could have listened to Dr Mayhew for a great deal longer, and she left her audience wanting more; if I discover she is speaking at another function, I shall be first in line to put my name down for a ticket!