No ordinary octogenarian drives a Ford Ghia Capri at 110 miles per hour, but then no ordinary person loops-the-loop in a Havilland Chipmunk aircraft to celebrate their 83rd birthday. Mildred Bruce had never been ordinary.
In love with speed for all her adult life, her motto summed up her attitude to living: “Going slow always makes me tired.”
Born in 1896, Mildred Mary Easter Petre became the first female to be charged with speeding at London’s Bow Street Magistrate’s Court. The year was 1911, and she was only 15. She’d ridden her brother’s motorcycle at almost 60 mph, an incredible pace for that time.
Being born into an era obsessed with going ever faster suited her temperament admirably. She raced cars and boats, always aiming to break records. In a motorboat called Snotty, she set the record for crossing the English Channel, drove a racing car for 70 hours non-stop to take 6th place in the 1927 Monte Carlo Rally (a 1,700-mile route through fog and blizzards), and in 1929 set three records during the Montléry 24-hour race. Her choice of husband reflected her passion for speed; she married the Honourable Victor Bruce, racing driver and winner of the 1926 Monte Carlo Rally.
Often the cars she drove were on loan from car factories or wealthy friends. Oil companies, who used her to advertise their product, provided the fuel. She was, perhaps, the forerunner of sporting celebrity; receiving sponsorship for doing something she loved.
She might never have taken to the air had it not been for the chance glimpse of an open-cockpit bi-plane gracing the window of a London department store in 1930. A plaque stated that it was possible to travel around the world in such an aircraft and Mrs Bruce thought: Well, why not? Such a trifling matter as never having flown before was never considered. She bought the plane and made plans for a round the world flight. The aircraft wasn’t capable of crossing the Atlantic or Pacific, so she decided to fly to Japan, fold the plane’s wings and take a steamer from there to Canada, fly across America, then take a ship to France before completing the circuit by air.
When asked by the Ministry for Aviation, where she’d disclosed her intention to fly solo, for how long she’d held a pilot’s licence, she replied: “I don’t have one yet, but I will get one before I go.” It seemed lessons might be in order.
She learned to fly at Hambledon Airfield, the first woman they’d taught. At the end of her first week she flew solo, and gained her licence at the end of the second. After a further eight weeks she took off on her epic journey. With only eighty flying hours to her credit and never having flown further than forty miles from Hambledon, she felt she was ready.
In September 1930 she took off from Heston Field (now Heathrow Airport). Her kit, packed into a small shoulder bag, comprised: her husband’s compass, her passport, the aircraft’s logbook, a bottle of water, a sun helmet, light cotton dresses and an evening gown. She had an extra fuel tank fitted in the passenger’s seat and a spare propeller fixed under the fuselage. She’d included a Dictaphone, but no parachute; she was unable to use Morse code, but had a radio capable of sending an automatic distress signal – she felt equipped for the challenge. Mildred Bruce took off in her little bi-plane, Bluebird, with her father, husband and son watching.
Four days later, when flying over the Persian Gulf, disaster struck. Not that it had been an uneventful trip until that point. She’d almost followed a train into a tunnel near Belgrade, pulling out barely in time to avoid a crash, and nearly dropped out of the sky above Turkey, having accidentally kicked one of the rudder controls. But her problems over the Gulf were more serious. The plane had a fuel leak, causing the engine to lose oil pressure, and Mildred was forced to land on a salt lake. Although she escaped without serious injury, she was badly dehydrated and suffering from exhaustion when found by passing tribesmen. Three days later British Officers from Jask in Iran arrived by boat. Bluebird was pulled from the lake, the propeller replaced and the fuel line fixed; Mrs Bruce was again airborne.
She flew on to Hanoi, stopping en route at such exotic places as Karachi, Jodhpur, Calcutta, Chittagong, Rangoon, Bangkok and Korat. In Indo-China she attended a tiger hunt organised in her honour, and was presented with the Medal of the Order of the Thousand Elephants and the White Umbrella for being the first person to fly solo from London to Hanoi. Then it was off to Hong Kong, where the Governor received her. After Amoy and Shanghai she’d intended to fly to Tokyo, but was forced to divert to Korea because the Emperor of Japan was attending parades and it was forbidden for anyone to look down on him. With the Emperor safely back in his palace two days later, she resumed her flight across Japan to meet up with the liner Empress of Japan, which was to carry her and Bluebird to Vancouver, Canada.
Her flight across America was relatively uneventful until Baltimore, when she crashed trying to take off from a short runway. The plane spun and flipped over, landing upside down. Once again Mildred survived without serious injury, but the plane needed extensive repairs. Fortuitously, the accident occurred opposite the Glen Martin Aircraft Factory. Mr Martin himself organised matters, putting ten men to work, who completed the job in five days. He also arranged a further service for Mrs Bruce - the runway was extended.
On her way once more, she flew to New York, upsetting the local police chief by flying along Broadway, over the Statue of Liberty, and circling the Empire State Building a few times. Having talked her way out of trouble, the plane, wings again folded, was loaded on to the Ile de France, bound for the French port of Cherbourg.
The final leg of her epic flight (France to Britain) was marked by a tribute from Amy Johnson and Winifred Spooner. From Lympe to Croydon they flew alongside Mildred’s Bluebird as escort. She arrived home after an adventure which had lasted five months.
The aircraft, covered in signatures from around the world, was displayed in a London subway station before going to a museum. The Blackburn Company donated a replacement to keep Mildred airborne. She entered several flying competitions and was part of the British Hospital’s Air Pageant Flying Circus. She took part in an experiment by a team of aviators to prove that in-flight refuelling was possible. In 1931 she was given the honour of hoisting the first Civil Air ensign, the design of which had been approved by the King.
Turning her immense energy to business, she started an airfreight company and a passenger airline. She continued to race cars, aircraft and boats, but also found time to resume horse riding.
For the Honourable Mrs Victor Bruce, who died in 1990, looping-the-loop and speeding around a racetrack in her eighties was ordinary behaviour. To do otherwise might have made her tired.
© Lorraine Mace 2005
