An important new insight into Field Marshal Montgomery, Britain's most famous Second World War general.
Known to all as 'Monty', Bernard Law Montgomery's greatest achievement was to give the British Army self-belief after Dunkirk, ensuring that his troops were inspired to embark on the long struggle to defeat Nazi Germany and its allies. The self-proclaimed 'cad' of the army would regularly tour his forces to talk to them in person, but employed disastrously outdated tactics in the Second World War. Yet he still secured famous wins in North Africa, most notably in the second Battle of El-Alamein. He followed that by leading his troops into Europe, first by invading Italy in September 1943 and then commanding the D-Day landings in Normandy in June 1944. However, his strategy for the Battle of Arnhem proved a costly failure.
No other general was so hated by his peers; no other general was held in such affection by the ordinary ranks and by the public. Now, fifty years since his death, Montgomery remains a highly controversial figure. This balanced, accessible and fresh account of one of Britain's most complex war heroes looks beyond the battlefield. Delving into Montgomery's belligerent Victorian boyhood, his family's legacy of financial precariousness, his love-hate relationship with Winston Churchill and his dubious romances, Gary Mead asks what life experiences and personal secrets influenced this man's volcanic emotional life and, ultimately, his multifaceted and disputed legacy.
Definitive and profound, Unbeatable, Unbearable captures the motives, spirit and psychological complexities of the man dubbed Britain's last great soldier.
Gary Mead was a journalist for the Financial Times for 10 years and has worked extensively for the BBC and Granada TV. He was Head of Research with the World Gold Council before moving to work for various investment banks as an analyst. He was Director of Media for the Washington DC-based Institute of International Finance, and Executive Director of New City Initiative.
I'd never read a biography of Montgomery before, so I came to this one with fresh eyes. I bought it because the blurb includes Andrew Roberts' endorsement, calling it the best book written about Montgomery. If that's the case, then the competition must be surprisingly weak.
Gary Mead's writing is extremely terse—at times to the point of brusqueness. I know he's a journalist by profession, and journalists are trained to write economically, but there were passages where it genuinely felt as though he was copying out his notes rather than writing fully developed prose. I've also never encountered so many semi-colons in a single book.
That same brevity affects the book's chronology. The years race by, with long periods skipped altogether. One sentence we're in 1930, the next we're in 1938. When Mead isn't leaping forward, he's jumping back. This is especially noticeable in the final chapters, where the narrative moves backwards and forwards through time so frequently that it's easy to lose track of what year you're in.
Despite all this, a picture of Montgomery does emerge. You come away with the outline of the man, but only the outline. There's enough here to understand his character and importance, but not enough depth to make him feel fully realised. If you're looking for detail—for a biography with a bit more meat on the bone—I suspect there are better places to start.
The conclusion also struck me as rather contradictory. Mead argues that Montgomery was the right man at the right time and laments what he sees as today's lack of military preparedness and fighting spirit, suggesting Britain was fortunate to have figures like Montgomery and Churchill when it mattered most. Yet, for much of the preceding 250 pages, he's quoted military commanders, politicians and contemporaries complaining about exactly those same shortcomings in Britain's armed forces during both World Wars. By the end, I was left wondering whether the past was really as different from the present as the conclusion suggests. Mead reinforces his point by citing a 2024 poll in which only 14% of respondents said they would want their children to fight if France were invaded, rising to just 21% if Britain itself were attacked. It's an eye-catching statistic, but I'm not convinced it proves very much. Pacifism was widespread in Britain—and across much of Europe, America and the Dominions—during the inter-war years, and there were plenty of voices questioning whether another war was worth fighting. Yet when the moment of decision came in 1939, the overwhelming majority accepted the necessity of war and rallied to the cause. Public opinion in peacetime is one thing; how people respond when faced with an actual national crisis is quite another. Who's to say today's generation would react any differently? More broadly, I think it's become fashionable in some conservative circles to blame everything from the welfare state to 'wokism' for an alleged decline in the nation's martial spirit. That strikes me as both simplistic and overstated. It's also an argument that's often advanced by people who are quick to demand sacrifice from ordinary citizens while expecting rather less of those at the top.
Having read several books about Montgomery, I’m not sure that this one added greatly to my understanding of the man. It’s a warts and all recounting of his life and career with particular and overwhelming emphasis on the warts. There is no doubt that the man was a very complicated character, deeply flawed and with a capacity to be extremely unpleasant to those around him. It is uncontroversial to say that he was a supremely arrogant narcissist with an unshakeable belief in his own inability. However, those appear to be traits not uncommon in successful military leaders. The author begrudgingly describes Montgomery‘s achievements, but only to illustrate why one or more of his unpleasant characteristics led to his success. Later in the book some accusations of a very distasteful nature are made against him, based entirely on hearsay, innuendo, and supposition. The author does himself a great disservice by making such serious allegations without presenting a single shred of evidence. Montgomery was clearly a man that it was easy to dislike, even to hate. The attempt to destroy his reputation and perhaps his legend, which this book obviously is, has had the opposite effect on me. Montgomery was not the only wartime leader we had without whom the outcome of that conflict may have been less favourable to us. We were lucky to have him. This book’s grubby attempt to discredit him has failed – at least for me.