If you have ever watched the Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger classic 'The Life And Death Of Colonel Blimp', you would remember the frenetic comic frenzy of the first fifteen minutes, choreographed like a comic interlude. A squadron of Tommies, all gloriously drunk on wicked mischief, set out to launch a surprise attack on the Turkish bath in London where their Commanding Officer Major General Clive Candy is relaxing in the welcome warmth before the actual drill begins. Much tomfoolery ensues before the film settles down and the actual narrative commences.
Now, imagine if Monty Python directed this film and expanded the goofball humour of the first fifteen minutes into a full-length feature packed with more gags and brilliant, blistering British wit and wisecracks than you could digest in one go. Yes, that is what some of this book, the first in the series of wartime memoirs by celebrated British comedian Spike Milligan (who was, coincidentally, the inspiration for Monty Python in the first place with his group act 'The Goon Show'), would feel like: hilarious, anarchic, almost brutally sarcastic, bawdy and guaranteed to leave you in splits.
But as I said, it is only some of this book that is hilarious. Don't get me wrong; I laughed, rolled, smiled, shook my head with mock-disbelief and loved all the freaks and weirdos and did not want the splendid comic set-pieces to end. There is a lot of outrageous humour to be found in the pages, some of it is recklessly obscene and deliciously off-the-wall and audacious; there are also crackling one-liners, rambunctious dance evenings that explode into chaos, drunken behaviour, pratfalls during setting up and shifting camp and through it all, you will be nearly tickled to death.
But it is hard to be tickled to death when, at the same time, Milligan is also gunning for biting, bitter satirical commentary on the state of the war itself and how it came home to rattle the whole of Britain .There are vividly nightmarish scenes of nerve-wracking despair meshed ingeniously in between the more rib-tickling sequences; there is also a heightened sense of the irreparable damage that destruction and death leave on mere mortals, not least of all the hapless troops marching to war themselves.
For instance, read how Milligan describes the tumultous emotions on one of those agonising nights when London is being bombed from the air at night:
'We looked at the blaze and it seemed to be getting bigger. I think we all knew it was London. My mother, father and brother were there. I'm not sure how i felt. Helpless, I suppose. Bombardier Edser switched on the BBC Midnight News, but there was no mention of any raid. Lots of the lads from London (we were a London regiment) found it hard to sleep that night. In the dark of our bedrooms, there were attempts at reassurance'.
Simple yet effectively stirring and utterly believable because this was exactly how everybody felt in those days.
This is, above all, a pitch-perfect and pitch-black satire on war. There are lighter comic digs made at stiff-upper-lipped authority, the abysmal cooking, the futile marches and camping trails that only amount up to idleness, farce and trivial affairs. There are even darker moments towards the end, as the troops set out to sail to Algiers and realise, for the first time, the gruelling experience of bracing through gale at sea, seasickness and even unexpectedly gruesome accidents on the trail that leave them unnerved.
Yet, the wonder is that this book, even with its undeniably harsh truths, is so entertaining in the end. Milligan's flippant, conversational tone keeps things wonderfully lively and balances both morbid darkness and cheery camaraderie on an even keel; for all the hilarity and horror, there are also lovely, leisurely moments when the troops celebrate with song, dance and fervent affairs with ladies in between.
If you roared with laughter after finishing 'Catch 22', this one comes highly recommended to you, to see the other side of the Atlantic going bonkers over the war long before the actual fighting began.