"Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few."

Those famous words of the Prime Minister will echo through the

pages of history.

We of the British Empire owe a debt of gratitude to the RAF which there is

little chance of our being able to repay.

With brilliant daring, these young men,

many of them in their teens, more often than not hopelessly outnumbered by the enemy,

went up from scores of aerodromes

to fight a ruthless foe who came day after day and night after night

to kill, murder and wantonly destroy.

Every hour of every day, our gallant airmen were turning the tide of war by their skill,

courage and devotion to duty.

High up in the heavens, those knights of the air fought and died.

Epic combats often beyond the range of our vision. Spitfires and Hurricanes

challenging each other in deadly combat with the enemy host.

These scenes were taken during the actual Battle of Britain. They show in vivid detail

the remorseless attack of our fighters

in the grim struggle not only for the life of Britain but the freedom of mankind.

If we failed, all failed.

There was no Dunkirk in this battle.

Back to the 'dromes came the young heroes time and again to refuel and rearm.

To snatch a few precious moments before winging into the fight again.

The murder of the elderly,

the women and the children with the deliberate aim of the Hun.

Nothing was spared.

The palace of the King suffered equally with the home of the commoner.

Routed by day, the enemy struck desperately in the darkness.

In many of our cities, scenes like this were a constant reminder

of the terror by night.

Nothing was sacred. The great cathedral of St Paul's

was grievously damaged.

Our ancient Guildhall, pride of the city, was destroyed.

Take your mind back to those dark days when the King and Queen walked through

the battered

streets, consoling and helping by their shining example.

Mr Churchill showed his confidence in our spirit and heartened the people by

his infectious courage.

Scattered over the shores of Britain lay the best tribute to the valiant men

who had clawed down from the skies that enemy legion.

Battered wrecks of planes that had brought those arrogant Huns

on their errand of destruction.

On land too, the twisted remains of the enemy's Luftwaffe.

Göring's Graveyard they called it - a stirring tribute to the skill of our men and the planes they flew.

The high courage of our airmen stood between the Hun and world domination.

On many an airfield, the King honoured them for their valour.

A king decorated his knights at his palace.

Do you recall the magnificent exploits of Flight Lieutenant Nicholson, whose first flight

earned him the Victoria Cross?

Or the heroism in a burning plane of Sgt Hannah, the youngest

holder of the VC?

Or Sgt Ward VC, a New Zealander of Bomber Command?

Sir Cyril Newall was then chief of the air staff.

Today, Sir Charles Portal occupies that high post.

Fighter Command is in the hands of Sir Sholto Douglas.

Compared with those hectic days of 1940, his machines are vastly superior in numbers,

speed and gun power.

Today, new Hurricanes armed with cannon and

machine guns roar across the sky.

Other daylight daredevils are the famous Hurribombers - Hurricanes with a nice line in

air force eggs.

Faster and more deadly armed Spitfires. The latest Beaufighters,

twin-engine destroyers and most powerful of all fighters.

When dusk falls, the night birds stretch their wings. On the prowl for the enemy are the

ominous but aptly-named

Defiants.

And there are many types. Twin-engined and four-engined, which scour the skies

and attack the enemy

whenever and wherever he is found.

Coastal Command machines protect the shipping near our shores - the nation's life blood that

ebbs and flows at our ports.

Giant Sunderlands roam the seas a thousand miles out.

Nearer home, range the Lockheed Hudsons on the lookout for enemy raiders

and lurking U-boats.

Our airmen rate very highly these powerful American machines.

In Western Europe today we are taking the offensive in the air

and day after day, bomber crews are briefed and their great machines prepared for raids over

occupied territory and Germany.

To smash railways, factories, docks and marshalling yards!

To blow up supply dumps, harbours and wipe out any other

strongholds of the enemy.

Young knights of the air set off to win their spurs afresh.

Into the dusk and through the long dark hours,

braving ice and storm, murderous anti-aircraft gunfire

and many other dangers.

On their return, can you wonder that they are bucked at the thought of a dangerous job well and truly done.

Sweeps by day are another feat of daring in our ceaseless attack on the Hun.

Our pulses quicken as we listen to the wireless reports of our

airmen's gallantry.

Only too often, though, do we hear that tragic ending.

Several of our aircraft are missing.

Do you ever reflect that those

who do return might be badly wounded and in need of great care and

attention - maybe for

weeks or months? In some cases their families

may need urgent help. Rightly has it been said that "never was so much owed by so

many to so few".

We ask you please to remember this and do all you can to help

by contributing generously to the RAF Benevolent Fund.

As Sqn Ldr Finucane

so truly says...

"Service does all it can to help officially

but the demands are unending and the resources available

can never make 1001 calls for assistance."

Show your gratitude for the men who helped to win the Battle of Britain!

To them we owe our very lives. Please give all you can afford.

Then men who fly will fly with even lighter hearts.

Thank you.