I have read a lot of first hand WW2 pilot accounts, from all sides of the war. Most of them are very exciting to read and usually overflow with a passion for flying and the terror of dying. Galland, by contrast, is very tedious. There's no doubt he was a great technical pilot and instrumental in shaping the Luftwaffe as a fighting force, but he never lets you forget that either. Any passion for flying is overwhelmed by Galland's passion for himself. There's is never a moment when Galland's ego isn't at the fore, which is a great shame because this is an important book by one of Germany's greatest fliers. I don't know if I'll make permanent space on my bookshelf for him - I doubt I'll read it again - so it's one of those cases where a book is important, but not a great read.