Douglas Bader’s contribution to aviation lies in his victory over his severe physical impediment and his success in reaching the commanding heights of one of the toughest fields—combat flying. His determination in the face of crippling injuries made an entire generation forget their problems and get cracking.

Douglas bader is not the kind of role model one would recommend lightly to a young, impressionable mind. A routine rule-breaker who challenged the system head-on, Bader managed to exasperate and annoy most people. Rules are for the guidance of wise men and the obedience of fools, and such other defiant declarations, did not endear him to his superiors, especially not in an organisation like the Royal Air Force (RAF) which takes pride in its professionalism. What he lacked by way of diplomatese and deferential reverence, Bader more than made up with his infectious enthusiasm in tackling depressing circumstances. To the differently abled he was an inspiring personality all right—his determination in the face of crippling injuries made an entire generation forget their problems and get cracking.

Born on February 10, 1910 in London, Bader joined the RAF as an officer cadet in 1928. At the mid-point of his course, he was close to the bottom of the class. Then, a heart-to-heart with his Commandant who explained to him, They want men here, not boys, convinced Douglas that he had no future in the RAF unless he worked on his attitude. Result. By the end of the course he narrowly lost the race to secure the Sword of Honour. He was commissioned as a pilot officer in 1930. On December 14, 1931, while attempting low-level aerobatics, apparently on a dare, his left wingtip touched the ground. Bader was pulled out of the mangled wreckage, seriously injured. Both his legs were amputated—one above the knee, the other below. Few expected the severely wounded 21-year-old to survive, but survive he did. More than the physical injuries, his ego had been bruised as can be gleaned from this log book entry: Crashed slow-rolling near ground. Bad show. Fitted with two aluminium legs, the young Bader began to rebuild his life, physically and mentally. He made dogged efforts to return to flying fitness, even refusing a walking stick. Naturally, therefore, he suffered a devastating blow on being compulsorily retired from the RAF on grounds of ill-health. For the next six years, stuck behind a desk at Asiatic Petroleum, he longed to return to flying.