Flying Colours
Nicholas Best, 17 April 1986
High over the Lambourn Downs, in the dark days of 1943, two American fighter planes collided in mid-air. Even as the wreckage spiralled to earth, a seven-year-old boy was galloping towards the spot on a horse much too fast for him. His father caught up with him just as the boy reined in to have a closer look at something on the ground – the twisted, mangled corpse of one of the pilots. ‘He’s dead,’ said Lester Piggott, without a trace of emotion. No tears, no hysterics, no outward sign of shock. Just a calm assessment of the situation, with no frills, either then or later. In the racing business the professionals show their colours early.’
