Malta Spitfire tells the story of one George Beurling, a Canadian Spitfire pilot who took part in the defense of Malta during World War II. The book is written by one of Beurling's close friends, Leslie Roberts, and is an account of the life of Beurling, told in the form of the conversations that Beurling and Roberts had towards the end of Beurling's time in Malta.

The book, however, starts long before Beurling had set foot on Malta. Beurling was born and grew up in Montreal, Canada, and fell in love with flying at a very early age. By the age of nine he was already spending most of his spare time (and some of the time he was meant to be at school!) at the Lasalle Road Airport, which was near his home. Sitting watching the Montreal Light Aeroplane Club and their aircraft convinced Beurling that he was destined to fly.

At the age of ten his wish came true. One of the instructors at the Aeroplane Club (now moved to Cartierville) offered Beurling a ride. It was tough convincing his parents, but in the end they relented and let him go. Beurling was truly bitten by the flying bug. He knew that he wanted to fly, but didn't know that with the imminence of World War II, his chance would come.

His first attempt to sign up for service was, naturally, with the Royal Canadian Air Force. Unfortunately, due to his lack of school qualifications they would not take him (he couldn't understand how they could turn away qualified pilots just because they didn't finish school). Then word came that the Finnish Air Force were hiring pilots. Immediately Beurling made enquiries. The only thing standing in his way was the consent of his father (as Beurling was not old enough to sign himself up). In the words of Beurling, "'You will sign it, won't you?', I asked, pretty urgently I imagine. Dad simply looked up and said: 'Nothing doing!'. And that was that. No Finland for me'".

Beurling's final opportunity came at the hands of the RAF, and so he signed up to work his way across the Atlantic with the merchant navy, and across he came, landing at the Queen's Dock in Glasgow, although not before 70% of the naval escort for the ship had been torpedoed. Within an hour he was in an RAF recruiting office with a Flight Lieutenant listening to his story.

Unfortunately Beurling had forgotten one thing. His birth certificate. So in a move which shows his determination to fly, he re-crossed the Atlantic on the same ship he had just arrived on, picked up his birth certificate, and then made the return trip to Glasgow. At last he was in, he'd made it, he was now a trainee flyer in "the biggest flying show in man's history".