On a secluded base in Arizona, veteran World War I pilot Steve Britt trains flyers to fight in World War II. One of his trainees, Englishman Peter Stackhouse, competes with Britt for the affections of Kay Saunders, the daughter of a local rancher. Despite their differences, Britt makes sure Sutton passes his training and becomes a combat pilot -- even though he loses Kay to the young man in the process.
"Steve" (Preston Foster) is a veteran flyer drafted into teach some new recruits from the USA, China and the UK to fly combat missions during the Second World War. It's on this mission that he hopes to rekindle his relationship with "Kay" (an underused Gene Tierney) but an unexpected fly soon appears in that particular ointment. He takes the form of "Stackhouse" (John Sutton) - a British pilot who is as keen as mustard but suffers from air-sickness. Hardly validating, indeed his bosses want to send him back for a desk job but his trainer reckons he has what it takes - if only he can discover what's causing the altitude vomiting. With the love triangle gently simmering away, he begins to understand that the young man comes from a proud family with a tradition of fighting that goes back at least to the Great War and is epitomised by his staunchly patriotic grandmother (Dame May Whitty). It's her little cameo that offers the gentlest of the propagandist elements here, the rest of it is all pretty obviously teed up by a documentary style narration at the top of the film and reinforced by some fairly jingoistic writing supported by a cast of familiar, if hardly stellar, faces. It served a purpose in the middle of a war the US was only just coming to terms with after the raid on Pearl Harbour. There's plenty of heroism and generosity of spirit on display here and some decent aerial photography too (though that's clearly not involving too much of the on-screen talent!). It's an efficient rather than memorable film that is watchable enough as it illustrates the merits of wartime collaboration and teamwork.