"Then you took an exam and if you passed it, the Shell Company gave you a bonus of a hundred pounds, which was a lot of money in those days when a case of whisky cost only twelve pounds."

This is Dahl's second autibiographical offering, and while some of the comments may mislead the unwary into thinking he's a mad drunk, it's actually a pretty enjoyable read.

I grew up on a lot of Dahl's children's stories, of course - it's odd to see his style of writing put to events more real and vivid than any fiction he's written. I enjoyed both sections, the tales of wild animals and picturesque vistas perhaps more than the dogfights, but it's all an important part of our history as a nation as well as the history of one of our most celebrated authors.

there are episodes where you do have to wonder as to a fighter pilots sanity, of course - "Hello goat, I'll bet you don't know the Germans are going to have you for supper before you're very much older"
is not the sort of conversation you expect from someone shooting down enemy aircraft. Then, after some reconnaissance and a cup of coffee, "I flew back to Haifa and reported that the landing strip seemed quite serviceable and that there were lots of children for the pilots to play with should we ever have to go there." Pilots, dealing death and destruction, and the only thought to play with the children.

of course flying a fighter was a job as any other and it's silly to think the men who survived didn't go on to have (or go back to) families of their own. It's an interesting congruence, I suppose; something Dahl has always been quite masterful at presenting.