eleven o'clock
London had been smashed and battered and set on fire night after night . The ground guns and the balloons got a few of the bandits , but too many slipped through and sent their cargoes of death down upon the city . It was up to the boys with the eight-gun death in their wind edges to stop the invaders . The first action came at eleven o'clock that evening . The call for the new formation blasted into the mess while the men were gathered around speculating on who would draw the job of being Squadron Leader . They rushed out into the night after hurrying into their togs . On the cab rank an even dozen Spitfires breathed flame from idling motors , trembling like things alive , straining to be up and into the blackness after the skulking killers .