H. G. Hawker, airman: his life and work

by Muriel Hawker

While Harry was working for Mr. de Little he lived at a small country hotel at Caramut, kept by Mr. and Mrs. McPhee, of whom he could never speak too highly. They were extraordinarily good to Harry, and when he left Australia they insisted on insuring his life; and they continued to pay the yearly premiums until he died. After Harry’s death, one of the most human letters I received came from Mrs. McPhee, with the insurance policy enclosed. The amount was very small, but the wealth of good nature which prompted such a disinterested tribute to his lovable personality was worth untold gold.

When he had been with Mr. de Little for nearly three years, Harry, then about twenty years old, met by accident one Busteed, who, inspired by the sight of a Wright and a Blériot, was leaving for England in a week. Having saved about £100 during his period of service with Mr. de Little, Harry decided to go with him, with the idea that in England his ambition to learn to fly would easily be realised. Accordingly, within a week he had thrown up everything, and with no misgivings was crossing the world in search of the knowledge of flying for which he had yearned so long. He was, as always, full of confidence in himself. From the time he started work at five shillings per week he never looked back. He gave no thought to the possibility of his not making good in England. He left Australia for England to learn to fly, and either did not or would not recognise that in the Old Country he would be likely to meet with keen competition in his quest.

There is no doubt that the trouble he experienced in getting any sort of work, even apart from that on which his heart was set, was a great blow to his confidence, for after nearly a year in very poor jobs in large workshops, where there seemed to be little or no scope for his ability, he contemplated returning home and taking up his old work. This was the only occasion, in a life full of ups and downs, when he seriously thought of throwing up the sponge and yielding to the line of least resistance. In all other adverse circumstances he revealed a spirit of indomitable courage and endurance. There is no measuring a man’s actual worth, but had Fate not kept Harry here we should have been several iotas deficient in our air supremacy in those dark days which followed on so soon, when iotas were of incalculable worth.

Harry and Busteed first arrived in London in May, 1911, with Harrison and Kauper, two other friends who had also travelled from Australia. All four were destined for aeronautical careers, Harry and Kauper, with nothing definite in view, left the others and looked for “diggings.” Although they had very little money, they decided to have a holiday and enjoy the sights of London before seeking employment. After a couple of weeks or so, Harry started to look around for a firm who wanted to teach someone to fly. This preliminary search was unsuccessful, so Harry, full of life and confidence, thought he would obtain work in an engineering shop and bide his time in finding the work he most wanted. Funds were getting low, and the quest for any sort of job was rendered very difficult by the fact that most of the people whom he approached would not consider employing him because he had no references in this country, a circumstance which Harry was at a loss to understand. In Melbourne there was not a firm but would have taken him, but in England his own word for his ability was not enough.

Eventually he offered to work for a week for nothing, as a test of his ability, but this was of no avail. The outlook became very black. With Kauper, he moved to cheaper lodgings, where he was barely able to afford the necessities of life. They knew no one in the country except their two fellow-travellers, but Harry was too proud to let them know his plight, and would starve first. He continued to write cheerful letters home, telling of prospects, but never a word as to the actual state of his affairs. He would not have his parents think he needed financial help from them.

On July 29th, 1911, after two bad months, fortune changed a little for the better, as he managed to get work with the Commer Company at a remuneration of 7d. per hour. He continued, of course, to hunt for the opportunity which would bring him nearer to the realisation of his hope of flying, and so, when offered a remuneration of 9½d. per hour by the Mercèdes Company he had no scruples about leaving the other firm at the end of January, 1912. He was with the Mercèdes Company for less than two months, as on March 18th he accepted a better post with the Austro-Daimler Company. In the meantime, although he had approached very little, if any, nearer his goal, he had gained invaluable experience. Furthermore, whenever possible, he had saved his money, and any that he spent on recreation paid for weekly visits to Brooklands to watch the flying there.

He was thankful that he had been economical and saved £40, enough to take him back to Australia, when, after nearly a year, he despaired of ever realising his ambition to fly. Then it was that Kauper, who had been experiencing bad times as regards work, saw that Sopwith’s were advertising for a mechanic, and, being out of employment, immediately applied for the job, with success. It was arranged that if the work turned out to be what they wanted, Kauper was to let Harry know. Having regard to what he had suffered, Harry would not now give up his job with the Austro-Daimler firm unless for something equally secure and permanent, and he would wisely have refused even a flying opportunity that did not fulfil such conditions. He did not want to run any unnecessary risk of being without work again.

Within a week of Kauper taking up his new work Harry received a wire from his friend, telling him to come down at once and that the prospects were good. Without a second’s delay, Harry packed up and left London for Brooklands, but little dreaming that he was on the point of realising his wildest hopes. Meanwhile, Kauper had discovered the work to be exactly what Harry was seeking. The Fates were kind, and a few days after Kauper had joined the Sopwith Company a lot of extra work turned up, necessitating the employment of still another mechanic. Kauper approached Mr. F. Sigrist, the works manager, by whom he was engaged, and told him he knew of “an Australian, a good mechanic, very keen to fly and ready for any sort of job with an aeroplane firm.” Sigrist told him he could arrange an interview, and so it was that, in reply to the wire mentioned above, Harry, complete with bag and tool-kit, presented himself ready to start work at once on June 29th, 1912.

It did not take Sigrist long to find out that in Harry he had a good man. He was very hard-working and exceptionally quick and accurate, and he could tackle any mechanical construction work. That Harry shone as a mechanic was Sigrist’s opinion. His whole heart was in his work. He worked fifteen hours a day on seven days a week, with £2 at the end of it. For the first time in England he was happy, notwithstanding hard work and little pay. His old confidence returned, and he no longer thought of getting home. The £40 he had saved he offered to Sigrist to be allowed to use a machine. Sigrist told Mr. Sopwith his star mechanic wanted to fly, and so Harry’s hopes materialised and he received his preliminary lessons.