The story behind the doco

Simon Van Der Spoel’s initial interest in aerial combat can be placed squarely at the feet of W.E Johns and his literary ace Biggles. The books kept an eager 13-year-old boy up late at night, reading of a fictitious man’s struggle for survival in the air. Wooden clothes pegs were soon pressed into active service, glued together with ice cream sticks for wings, the Sopwith Camel whirled with its nemesis the Fokker triplane in a mobile over Simon’s bed.

Soon introduced to the world of scale models, the crude wooden models were recalled for a more accurate plastic airforce. When Biggles Defends the Desert was re-released by Red Fox publishers, the cover artwork revealed something far more deadly than the Sopwith Camel. Sleek and curved, the Spitfire aircraft in the painting immediately got his attention. A 1:32 scale model of a MKI Spitfire was soon constructed and took pride of place on the bookshelf…until it was destroyed, ironically enough, by the family German Shepherd.
The memory of constructing that Spitfire by hand, piece by piece, left an appreciation of R.J Mitchell’s elegance of design. Yet it was still just an aircraft that Simon had read about, not fully appreciating the true nature of the machine and the men that flew it. Years passed, and a childhood hobby faded as he grew up finished his schooling and pursued a career in Media at the University of Southern QLD, in the hope to make films one day.
On nearing graduation several things happened that would determine the focus of the next five years. Simon found the remains of the plastic Spitfire in an old box, and he decided to buy and make a new 1:48 scale MKI Spitfire. Simon’s girlfriend and future wife decided to encourage his newfound interest, and surprised him with a visit to an actual Spitfire restoration.
At 20 years of age, Simon Van Der Spoel lowered himself carefully into the MKVIII cockpit, and slid the canopy closed. The cockpit wrapped around him, the gauges were still, the prop silent, the gunsight dark…yet that Spitfire was alive to him at that moment. Filled with a drive that he had not felt before he dedicated his weekends to help restore the aircraft, the real thing, not plastic. Wearing three lock washers off the Spitfire Rotol propeller on a chain as a talisman, Simon began to entertain the idea of doing a documentary on the restoration.
He had graduated from university with a Bachelor of Mass Communication, majoring in Media Production and Journalism. He worked part time with WIN Television as a news tape editor and camera operator, and was perfectly placed to capitalise on his training and access to equipment. It would be something small, a fifteen minute presentation that might air on the local TV perhaps, if he was lucky. Things were looking good to make his first project…until the Spitfire fuselage was secretly sold to the UK, leaving volunteers, veterans and donators stunned at the turn of events.

Simon was devastated that the fuselage had been lost to future generations of Australians, supporters were left in the dark, and his idea had crumbled. It only made him more determined to make a project on the Spitfire, and he would start with those it had affected the most, the local Spitfire veterans.

He would tell their tale, recording their stories about their experiences in World War Two with the Spitfire aircraft. Using his own time and money Simon interviewed three local veterans. Little did he know he had taken the first steps on a five year journey that would result in travelling all over Australia to record interviews with Spitfire Pilots and Groundcrew.
12 hours of interviews with 13 veterans, the project had exploded into something larger and more important. The machine, legendary as it was, would have been nothing without the men. It was that realisation that made Simon press on with the documentary.
An Australian documentary purely about Spitfires and the men hadn’t been done with this scope before. Simon was told by media industry experts that no one wanted to know about Australian pilots or groundcrew, that it was too parochial and no one would be interested in the project. Simon was not discouraged, it only hardened his resolve to make the film, for he had realised that when the veterans had been 20 something, his age, they had been fighting for their country and their lives. He owed it to them and their sacrifice to record their story.

Simon approached the Temora Aviation Museum to film the only flying Spitfire in Australia at the time. The MKVIII Grey Nurse Spitfire was the only chance Simon would have of getting relevant footage to overlay the interviews. The Temora Aviation Museum surprised Simon with footage of the Spitfire they had already filmed and paid for themselves, donating it for free to the project.

This welcome addition lifted the professional grade of the project, and it had been in recognition of a worthy aim. Simon leapt at the chance offered by the museum, to come to Temora and film the Spitfire himself to increase his stock of footage. For two days straight, Simon literally crawled all over the MKVIII, and filmed closer to the action than any other official media.

The sound of a Merlin engine, snarling overhead is enough to give most goose bumps, but it meant so much more to Simon. It was the realisation of a dream come true, and as the Grey Nurse took flight, so too did his aspirations. Nothing would stop Simon from seeing the documentary completed. He contacted the AWM.

After years of negotiation, the Australian War Memorial waived their fees for usage of WWII footage, giving world wide release of 8minutes of archive film in exchange for the 12 hours of interviews filmed by Simon, and $600 donated by several RSL sub branches to aid the documentary. The documentary had grown into a massive undertaking, funded only by Simon’s pocket and the generosity of the RSL. In the beginning the only support came from friends and family who believed in what Simon was doing.

The veterans gave up their time and memories, the museums gave their footage, but no corporation or government body gave financial support. Simon’s experience as an editor and a camera operator were drawing the threads of the documentary together. Being a terrible typer, he hand wrote out the transcripts of the 12 hours of interviews, then spent days typing them out, poring over them for relevant stories, and began writing the narration to link it all together.

A severe bout of flu saw the final script for the documentary completed at 2am one morning with words straight from the depths of Simon’s heart. The final draft was 72 pages long, it would be a feature length documentary as Simon saw it at that point. He just needed a narrator to read his words and bring the documentary to life.


On a suggestion from his step father, Simon decided to approach internationally acclaimed actor Charles “Bud” Tingwell to narrate. He had no idea what to expect, being a 24 year old no name film maker at the time. Bud had been a Spitfire Recon pilot during the war, and saw the merit of Simon’s script and agreed to record the narration…for free.
The documentary was once more being propelled beyond the expectations of a first time film maker like Simon Van Der Spoel. A change in employer and moving to Far North Queensland resulted in the documentary taking longer to finish. The final cut once the editing had been done resulted in a 2 ½ hour long film.

Far too long to be accepted on Television, by broadcast standards, so Simon called on Australia’s Colour of War film producer Paul Rudd to look over his script to help cut it back. Once again the generosity of strangers resulted in the professional grade of the documentary to be improved, and a 1 hour version was made.
He approached the History Channel and was amazed when the program manager wanted to broadcast it on Remembrance Day, in a prime time spot. Spitfire Guardians, a film with humble beginnings had reached an audience of 56,000 people that truly appreciated the sacrifice of the Spitfire men. The veterans stories were heard, their experiences relived, and the legend of the Spitfire revived, all thanks to a boy’s fascination with Biggles books. Simon had achieved what he had set out to do, the story of the Australians involved with the Spitfire would be preserved for future generations. As they fade from this world, their words will remain…at the going down of the sun, we will remember them…lest we forget.