Memoir of an RAF fighter pilot. Purchased in London, while passing through Heathrow. TBR.

Not a great work of literature, but the stream of consciousness style does lend a feeling of immediacy. If you have any interest in knowing what it was like to be a young RAF pilot during the Battle of Britain, you can't do much better than this.

Sending to Badgerjim and his dad. Enjoy!

I got this in Madison on Friday while visiting my family for my parents' 60th anniversary (as FSR44 knows, my father was in the USAAF in WWII). I'm going to see if he'd like me to lend it to him first.

I got this back from my parents today. My mother in particular enjoyed it very much (I think my dad might still feel a little rivalry with the fighter pilots.. :-))

I'd echo FSR44's comments. I sent this as a RABCK in a box with a four volume set by Winston Churchill to Kansas Kiwi today. The RABCK is in honor of FSR44's father, who like my father and the author of this book fought in the European Theater in World War II.

Arrived today! Thank you for this surprise RABCK, badgerjim. What a nice pick-me-up just when I needed one.

Back in the mid 50s my mother thought it was a bit odd that I loved to read the Biggles books, usually sought after by boys, not little girls. I now collect them and it's fascinating.

Before I read it I'll loan it to my father-in-law who flew a C-47 (military transport plane) in WWII, based in India supporting the Burma Campaign.

Today I gave this book to my father-in-law who was pleased to receive it. He asked if I was familiar with the following beautiful verse composed by WWII Spitfire pilot, John Gillespie McGee, Jr.

HIGH FLIGHT

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds -- and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of -- Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

--John Gillespie McGee, Jr. (1922 - 1941)

Thanks for adding one of my favorite poems to this journal. How appropriate!

Adjusting status.

My father-in-law enjoyed this book and said that it brought to mind vague memories of a wartime friendship with a plucky RAF pilot.

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Added to my TBR pile.

An enjoyable account, gripping at times, of how a boy on the cusp of manhood very quickly grew into his wartime role as a Spitfire pilot. A true hero.

Thanks, Badgerjim, it was a good choice.

Available for trade/postage/RABCK.

Donated to Presbyterian Hospital library.