An RAF pilot is patrolling the English Channel, looking for threats to British shipping. A submarine is spotted, and the pilot moves quickly to sink it with his plane’s torpedoes. When he returns to shore, he’s accused of having sunk a British submarine. The pilot claims otherwise, but fragments of a British sailor’s uniform are found floating on the surface near where the submarine went down.

That’s the set-up of this wartime novel; the pilot’s career then takes an abrupt right turn, and therein hangs the tale. Naturally, there’s also the love of a good woman involved, and a lot of interesting stuff happens.

On the one hand, this is probably the weakest Shute I’ve read. On the other hand, I stayed up late one night to finish it. You do the math.