The German airman was killed in a dogfight with Spitfires six weeks later, but Mr Russell, who turns 96 in July, has no plans to leave this earth any time soon.

The former No. 3 Squadron RAAF flier was in Canberra on Friday to renew his acquaintance with one of Australia's last remaining Kittyhawks, the American-built fighter bomber whose legendary toughness saved his life. He spoke while sitting next to the Australian War Memorial's immaculate example in Aircraft Hall.

''This one was used in the Pacific; it is not quite the same as the ones we had,'' he said.

''They were a very strong, tough plane. If they hadn't been I wouldn't be here. There was no better aircraft for the job before the Mustang came along.''

Mr Russell, who held Stuka dive bombers and Messerschmitts at bay during the second Battle of El Alamein, remembers the day he came face-to-face with flying death as if it were yesterday.

''We were providing top cover for our sister squadron, 450 Squadron (also equipped with Kittyhawks), who were doing a bomb job,'' he said.

''There were six of us, and one pilot reported four aircraft above us. Alan Righetti (another No. 3 Squadron pilot) didn't hear the warning and [German fighter ace Joachim] Muncheberg flamed him before he knew he was there.''

Righetti parachuted to safety and spent the rest of the war as a prisoner. He and Mr Russell are the sole surviving members of No. 3 Squadron from those desert days.

''After he got Alan, Major Muncheberg turned his attention to me,'' Mr Russell said. ''I was watching another Me 109 [Messerschmitt] and didn't see him coming around behind me. He chewed up my left main plane and aileron and then, as he came up higher, bullets started coming into the cockpit. He shot away most of my instrument panel before turning away. He thought he had got me.''

The German had not taken into account the toughness of the P-40, which carried a lot of armour plate around the pilot's seat, and Mr Russell's raw determination. ''I was cut up a bit; I had shrapnel and fragments of perspex in my left arm, but managed to keep the plane level and maintain height. I was able to make formation on one of the other Kittyhawks and he led me home.''

Mr Russell's tenacity is legendary. He first saw his wife, Enid, when she was a 15-year-old schoolgirl and he was working at Punchbowl railway station in Sydney. ''I said to my mate, 'Look at that vision coming up the stairs. I'm going to marry that girl'.''

After three refusals, Enid said yes in 1942. ''I had sent a cable asking if we could become engaged while I was at a place called Marble Arch in Libya. A fortnight later I got a letter back saying 'yes'.'' They married in 1944, six years after they met and two days after Enid turned 21.

After the war the couple settled in Sydney. They live in Miranda and Mr Russell still drives around the suburb. ''You've got to keep on doing what you can do.''