I’ve read a lot of war literature: poetry, fiction, diaries. It was with some hesitation though that I picked up Patrick Hennessey’s account of his time as a soldier and in particular, his tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. Too recent? Maybe. Too harrowing? Possibly. Too laddish for a middle-aged woman? Most probably.
But in times where war seems to be bandied about without a thought to the lives involved and divisions are encouraged for fear to be mongered, I felt like it would be an insight that would educate me and dare I say it, prepare me. For what, I’m not sure but still.
It was, is, a very good read. This may be because Patrick is better placed than most to write a lucid and descriptive account, having the advantage of an Oxford English degree as well as a military heritage.
But really, what makes it stand out is that this is his experience. This is on the front-line stuff. This has the camaraderie of the troops, in memories of funny stories and comments as well as the behaviours of individuals. This is about sitting waiting for action and then suddenly being propelled towards a vehicle, before heading towards trouble. It is an account that is littered with acronyms (thank goodness for the glossary) and peppered with the slang of soldiers. It is about fighting and wounds and ambush and the fear with which this is tackled but it also about the adrenaline, the rush that is experienced when danger is present and lives are threatened. It is about the unknown and the perceived enemy. It is about people.
I found it hard to grasp in some places as it’s not a life that I would ever care to live and Hennessey’s style is casual, like a mate talking down the pub. But I got it, what he was trying to convey: an innate part of me recognised the thrill of it. He is so honest in his depiction of it, his war experience, how he saw it – it’s clear he wants you to see it through his eyes.
And it opened mine: to the boredom (this book is subtitled Killing Time and Fighting Wars); to the insularity of the soldier’s world; to having to straddle different worlds, the one of the army and that of civilian life; to the excitement of war.
With allusion to the title, there is some mention of literary texts throughout but it’s less book club and more fight club although in many ways, it’s not a violent book. It is based in war but it is not war-like in its content, merely one man’s account of a situation in which he found himself and which, in some ways, I think, he didn’t totally dislike.
Rachel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Scuffed Granny 