This is one of the most heartfelt and poignant firsthand accounts of aerial combat that I've ever read. The author, who had begun the war as an Army officer, was offered the chance to transfer to the RAF in March 1940.
Six months later, following a somewhat abbreviated flight training program, Hall was posted to a Spitfire squadron in Southern England, which was involved in the thick of the fighting against the Luftwaffe. The Battle of Britain was at its height. Hall, who barely knew how to handle a Spitfire, had to learn fast. He steadily flew combat for 3 months before the strain began to get to him. Fearful of being considered a coward, Hall volunteered for service in Northern England flying nightfighters. This he did for a time before being posted to fly Spitfires again in Southeast England.
This book is a condensed version of the one Hall had written shortly after the war, when his memories of his combat service were fresh in his mind. Thus, the reader gets a unvarnished and fully candid account of the emotional and psychological pressures Hall faced and how he sought to cope with his own fears and the deaths of close friends from flak, enemy fighters, or accident.