Wingmen

by Ensan Case

WINGMEN is back in print after a 30-year absence. First published in 1979 by Avon books, this World War II novel, with overtones of From Here to Eternity, was a precursor to the gay romance genre. Jack Hardigan's Hellcat fighter squadron blew the Japanese Zekes out of the blazing Pacific skies. But a more subtle kind of hell was brewing in his feelings for rookie pilot Fred Trusteau. While a beautiful widow pursues Jack, and another pilot becomes suspicious of Jack and Fred's close friendship, the two heroes cut a fiery swath through the skies from Wake Island to Tarawa to Truk, there to keep a fateful rendezvous with love and death in the blood-clouded waters of the Pacific. "...Wingmen is gratifying to read." - The Advocate, November 1, 1979

Genres: Historical, Historical Fiction, M M Romance, LGBT, Military Fiction, Romance, Fiction

408 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1979

About the author

Christopher E. Case, known by his pen name Ensan Case, was an American novelist and police officer.

Reviews

[GymGuy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Written in 1979, this novel stands alone in the m/m genre. Written before such low expectations have become the norm, "Wingmen" soars above 99% of what is out there today. I'd give it 10 stars if I could. By contrast, it shows how far writing has sunk from the days when books were actually edited and screened before being published. This can hold its own with the best of Naval Air Battle books.

"Wingmen" is not a true m/m romance by today's standards. It is mostly a WWII story taking place in the battles of Tarawa, Kwajalein and Truk. And yet it is a seriously engaging story of two men who find each other and fall deeply in love: the old-fashioned way. They earn it. There is a tremendous amount of detail. You feel like you are actually in the planes with the pilots and can smell the hot oil deep in the guts of an aircraft carrier. The energy and testosterone are palpable. The knowledge of the author is obviously first-hand. On the m/m side of the equation, this is far more of a "growing-to-love" story than just a romance.

Trusteau is the young ensign who is assigned to the older and far more experienced Hardigan, who has never even considered his lack of interest in women as anything other than simple disinterest. Trusteau on the other hand is aware of his gayness but, because of the time period is at first unable to define it.

The story progresses on multiple fronts. “Trusty” becomes the epitome of the Greatest Generation: courageous, humble and true to his country. “Skipper” is the true leader: strong, wise and willing and able to do whatever it takes to get the job done. Both have the honor code of Navy pilots to uphold, both in the air in bed.

However, as their relationship develops from respect to admiration to “father/son” to “brothers” to hidden lovers, the tension grows ever stronger. Trusty at times is the lovable puppy-dog who worships at the feet of the Skipper. Hardigan is big and strong and fearless...on the surface...while carrying deep inside the realities of death and loss.

This is a character driven story yet is mostly action. It is a love story yet filled with restraint. There are only two intimate scenes in the entire book and both are generally only alluded to, yet the love and respect burn to the soul.

My only complaint, which also has been indicated in other reviews, is that the ending falls terribly flat. It's as though the author felt compelled to tie up the loose strings at the end. Life is a continuum. There are always loose strings. Often it is best to set a story end naturally, and it does at the second-to-the-last chapter. If you read this book, my suggestion is this: Skip the last two chapters.

The story ends with a bitter-sweet ending. Trusteau and Hardigan live and love for many years to come. We never read of a long romance or have a chance to experience any of the details of that love. We just know they did. Just leave it at that.


Tighten your cockpit harness and enjoy the ride! This story will have you biting your nails and crying at the same time.

[Linda ~ they got the mustard out! ~ · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

First thing's first: this is NOT a romance, so anyone reading this as a romance is going to be very disappointed. This is a war story with some romantic elements, but those elements make up a very small percentage of page time. Really, it's more a story of a squadron of pilots, focusing on three of the men, two of whom just happen to be gay and start a relationship with each other, but for the most part that relationship is between the lines.

HOWEVER, all that said, I still really enjoyed the story. I could tell that a lot of research went into this. The lingo, the fight scenes, the war diary, the protocols - I can't attest to how accurate anything is but it sure sounds legit. (Though the military lingo was a little too much at times. I even had to go back and relisten to the first few chapters because I was losing the thread of the story. Once I got used to it though, the story flowed well.) I thought many times while watching that this would make a great war movie, perhaps directed by Ron Howard, and I would've liked for the story to keep going after Fred gets hurt and discharged since I wasn't invested in the relationship as much as I was the squadron as a whole. So the ending felt a little anti-climatic. The epilogue covered about twenty-five years after the war's end, highlighting the major events in Fred and Jack's lives together. But even though this isn't a romance,
I was still disappointed this wasn't an HEA for them, since it ends with Jack's death by heart attack.

Keeping in mind this was originally written in 1979, it's no surprise then that this is not the gay-ok revisionist history that you get in too many m/m romances today. I get why people want their protags to be happy, but I always feel like it disrespects the men (and women) who had to live through those times. I really did like that aspect of it, and just the fact that this was published when it was is an example of all those little steps over the decades that brought us to where we are today.

The narrator does a good job, though I wished he'd made the voices a little more distinctive. My issues with the audiobook isn't because of him though. The editing was less than stellar. I lost track of how many times sentences were repeated, but it was easily over a dozen. This should've been caught before it was released and since I've had experience with this from Audible before, I doubt it's going to be fixed any time soon.

I do recommend this one if you're a WWII buff and enjoy action/adventure stories, but readers wanting Romance (™) should look elsewhere.

[Chelsea Bridge · Rating 5 out of 5]

Now and then, among the run-of- the-mill potboilers and bodice rippers in the local used bookstore, you come across one so exceptional you wonder why it wasn’t released as serious literary fiction.
Ensan Case’s “Wingmen” is that kind of book.
Full disclosure, I had an email exchange with Mr. Case a few years ago, mostly regarding our shared military background; he was very gracious. Aside from that, I have no personal or professional/financial interest, other than to see a damn good writer get his due.
It has a fascinating back story: Case, a Navy officer of the late Vietnam era, was inspired by a 1960s war novel, “The Last Tallyho”, by the then-popular Richard Newhafer. Provoked by the offensive portrayal of a homosexual pilot as an utter failure in all things manly except his inevitable suicide, he set out to write a rebuttal, a Hemingway-esque wartime romance, but one subverted by the casting of two men as romantic leads. Unable to find a niche amid the postmodernist satirical war novels or the straightforward action/adventure successors of Newhafer, or the angsty coming-out tales at Alyson, premier gay-interest publisher of the era, "Wingmen" fell between the chairs. It landed at Avon Books, purveyor of tame romances, published in 1979, and promptly disappeared.
Over 30 years later, the author did a random Google search and found his forgotten youthful effort was enjoying a long half-life on the interwebs as an elusive collectors’ item. He secured the publishing rights from Avon and “Wingmen” was reissued by Cheyenne Press in the spring of 2012, nearly fifteen years after "Brokeback Mountain" ran in the New Yorker.
The times had finally caught up with Ensan Case, though ironically, he's bound to be compared to Annie Proulx and not vice versa, especially as there are parallels that suggest that her seminal tale has some DNA from “Wingmen” in its ancestry. Aside from the American Archetypal characters and setting far from the gay subculture--and a hero named Jack—there’s also a postmortem revelation of the depth of one lover’s devotion to the other easily the equal of Ennis del Mar’s discovery of the shirts in terms of its impact.
However, this is not “Brokeback Aircraft Carrier.”
Much of the power of that short story--and film--came from its rare, realistic, unromanticized depiction of rural poor white men. Though they meet 20 years before Jack Twist and Ennis del Mar, Case’s naval officers have far more options in life than the star-crossed ranch hands; no wives or children, but there is a love triangle of sorts, which shadows the men’s future. Which is to say, they have one, not the unalloyed “HEA” some of the readers seem to want, but not the forgone bleak conclusion to which Proulx brings her characters.
Both authors set out with thematically different goals: Proulx is succinct that “Brokeback” is about destructive rural homophobia; Case is equally clear that “Wingmen” is a simple love story. As such he had the greater task, because it’s almost the hardest kind of story to tell--many a writer has set his prow at the shores of profundity, only to wreck on the shoals of corn, porn, or worse, unintentional comedy. Case succeeds by employing a spare, plainspoken voice free of belletristic flourishes or trendy literary devices.
Maybe because the premise was radical for the time, Case took the safe path of focusing on a handful of lives set against the mammoth apparatus of war. It’s been done many times—“Saving Private Ryan" et al, but seldom are fictional characters woven so seamlessly into history that never feels like history to the men who are making it.
In Pearl Harbor in the summer of 1943, Ensign Fred Trusteau reports to Fighter Group VF-20 aboard the fictional USS Constitution, under LCDR Jack Hardigan. Two dozen or so young aviators are thrown together and learn--or not--how to be a unit. Case deftly captures the peculiar rhythms of shipboard life--equipment problems, managerial clashes, training snafus, boredom, bickering, cameraderie, and then, abruptly, combat and the randomness of death.
The aerial combat sequences are among the best I’ve ever read, edge-of-the-seat, cinematic. The characters are vivid without the author trying too hard to make them "colorful!"--the officious Air Group Commander; hellraising LT Brogan; an uptight deck officer; a grizzled crew chief; the division yeoman; even Admiral Nimitz, in a cameo—there’s not a cardboard one in the bunch, and all of it related with believable dialog and great military humor. I suspect Case kept notes while he was on active duty. Fred’s drunken night on the town with Brogan, and the wardroom etiquette briefing are classics, and to this day I have a hard time keeping a straight face when I meet anyone named Sweeney.
I want to make note of his female characters; this is very much a men’s story, in which women are peripheral, with one exception: Eleanor Hawkins, widow of a pilot killed at Midway, lately enamored of Jack, pursuing him with a lusty confidence just this side of brazen. Yet the portrait never stoops to Sadie Hawkins caricature or moralizing. Other women only briefly appear but all receive the same nuanced handling.
Case also manages to impart a lot of historical and technical information without it seeming nakedly expository or spinachy. As he tells the story of VF-20, he also tells the larger story of stepping stones across the Pacific and the defeat of the Imperial Navy. It’s a high wire act, sweeping and focused, intimate and epic, and at its heart are three men.
Fred Trusteau is 21, adopted son of a San Jose storekeeper, a college student when war broke out. Jack Hardigan is about 30, the son of a Maine banker, a career Navy officer, veteran of Guadalcanal and Midway. Neither man fits the gay lit trope of hero-as-alienated-sensitive-misfit. They are conventional products of their time and place, small town Depression-era America.
Both date women, more from expectation than enthusiasm; both are baffled by their shipmates’ boundless energy for female pursuit. Both are well-liked and respected by their peers, but harbor an internal sense of apartness which is not expressed in their interactions with the other pilots; Fred puts it down to his intelligence and orphan status, the insecurity of one who's always been an outsider to some degree.
Jack's sexuality is not so much repressed as sublimated working in an all-male environment, a bachelor married to his job. His life has heretofore “clicked along...on hidden paths,” doing what’s expected from a man of his background, but the experience at Midway of death on a monumental scale created a schism with his previously unintrospective existence. He realizes how lonely he’s been and finds himself craving human connection; uncoincidentally, he’s new to command and at an age where his confreres are pairing off and starting families.
The apartness is something they seem to subconsciously sense about each other--behold, the power of gaydar, in other words--and they gravitate to each other, seeking each other out, despite differences in age and rank, and soon become close friends. Impressed by Fred’s professionalism, Jack selects him as his wingman, an office the younger man discharges with Theban Band-like fidelity. Both men are charmingly clueless about their friendship, though the self-possessed Fred is a giddy schoolboy in his skipper’s presence, and the dashing Jack never seems to miss a chance to ruffle the young man’s hair or drape a comradely arm around his shoulders.
The light bulb comes on sooner for Fred, privately, with no real hope of reciprocity, expressed outwardly in a puppy-like anxiousness to please. Not till Fred is almost shot down in the first combat action does Jack realize the real nature of his feelings, which disturbs him, and he reacts by avoiding Fred, causing the other man anguish. It takes a second near-loss to jar him out of his denial and allow the relationship to progress to its consummation, but he can’t call the thing by its name, knows instinctively if you name it, you claim it, and “it” in those days, presents as great a threat as the enemy, if the other pilots got wind of the relationship.
They’re oblivious-- except for one.
Duane Higgins, Jack’s wingman circa 1941, till they were separated after Guadalcanal, now serves as the executive officer of VF-20, but the two former best friends no longer share the same closeness, to Duane’s confusion and hurt.
“The Last Tallyho” depicted its fighting men in a dichotomy of 110 percent heterosexual heroes or cowardly deviants. In reality, situational homosexuality has always been part of single-sex environments, and Case addresses this obliquely through a character who falls in the hard-to-pin-down gray area. There’s little background on Duane beyond his working-class Catholic upbringing, but he’s more complex in many ways than Fred or Jack.
He carefully cultivates the image of a boozing, skirt-chasing gambler, yet he’s thin-skinned, with a puritanical streak. His interest in women seems genuine, but he often has to make an effort not to be put off, or even repelled by them. Ironically, Duane pings gayer than Jack or Fred, to whom he takes an early dislike and whom he jealously senses has replaced him. The relationship between the skipper and his wingman unfolds through the lens of Duane’s covert and increasingly hostile scrutiny. His fixation comes to mirror that of a stalking, jilted ex-lover, literally listening at doors. He romances Eleanor Hawkins, initially to discover the nature of her relationship with Jack, then falls for her himself, though the fact that she was previously Jack’s is an undeniable component of his attraction.
The snooping campaign comes to a head in a showdown with Jack and a loss of situational awareness at a critical moment, the repercussions of which echo through the lives of all three men long after they part ways.
***MAJOR SPOILERS FROM HERE ON***
Over 35 years later, “Wingmen” has traveled better than most of its contemporaries, many of which are extremely dated or read like cultural curios. Social change and the fluidity of electronic media have enabled it to reach a new audience; reception has been almost universally positive, if the 5-star reviews here and around the web are any indicator. What criticism there is seems to reflect current tastes rather than literary merit. I mention this because most of it concerns three aspects of the book: the lack of an unequivocally happy ending, the absence of explicit sex between the two main characters, and the inclusion of the “Scrapbook” section.
If the subject matter were anything else, I would dismiss the objections as irrelevant to its artistic validity, but a tragic end for gay characters was de rigueur until quite recently, and on the surface, “Wingmen” would appear to be another link in a long dreary conga line, bringing up the rear behind “The Children’s Hour”, “Reflections in a Golden Eye,” “The Sergeant,” et depressing cetera.
But in the above examples, the implication is that nothing but death or eternal solitude is possible for such warped, pitiful creatures. That’s a far cry from a man dying of a heart attack to which he may have been genetically predisposed, after 25-plus years of marriage in all but name. Those years spanned a singularly oppressive period for gay people--read Richard Brooks’ “The Brick Foxhole” for some insight into what they were up against. Case couldn’t not address it, not without propelling the story into the realm of science fiction--or fanfiction.
Case grounded his story in reality, not make-believe, the reality of two men trying to make a life together in a society both antagonistic and increasingly perceptive. In 1946, two war buddies “batching it” while they built a business wouldn’t have raised any eyebrows. By 1969, a pair of middle-aged, never-married men living together for over two decades would have looked like exactly what it was. Toward the end, at least some people would have known or speculated about them. The precariousness of their position would only have grown with time, as would their awareness of the same:
“Fred wasn’t about to tell Higgins what it was really like for Jack: the ever-growing paranoia, Jack’s fear that he and Fred would be found out, ridiculed, cast out. The creeping mental confusion brought about by the continual battle between his love for Fred and the knowledge of the danger that that love represented, and how in the last years that confusion had reduced Jack’s sharpness and wit and decision-making abilities to a constant state of apprehension, always looking over the shoulder to make sure he wasn’t followed. Fred suddenly realized that in all their years together, they had never taken a vacation with one another.”
“Wingmen” is not expressly political, but there is a more blistering indictment of the corrosive effect of homophobia in that one paragraph than in the entire collected works of Larry Kramer.
It’s a bitter end after 400 pages, but there was a lot of sweetness, too. They got a happier ending than most, considering.
Hemingway wrote that all love stories end tragically; someone has to go first. I would add that the great love stories also tend to be the sad ones because conflict is the essence of drama. “Wingmen” would still have worked if Case had left Jack and Fred as contented retirees on a golf course in Palm Springs. That’s a nice parting image, but one with the false note of a wish fulfillment fantasy. Instead, he took the unflinching route of leaving Fred alone, watching the sun sink into the Pacific. THAT image is devastating, but it’s also one that will resonate with the reader for a long time.
That bitter last image might be more palatable to some readers if they hadn’t had to use their imaginations quite so much to envision the “sweet,” which brings me to criticism #2, the sketchy presentation of sexual intimacy between Jack and Fred, especially when heterosexual relations are rendered comprehensively and fairly graphically.
My writer’s instinct suggests that the first encounter between the men would have been framed as a mirror of the opening scene between Fred and his date, but this time with feeling-- intense, emphatically different feeling. I have no idea if Case wrote it and it was cut so as not to offend 1970s readers, or if it was never included to begin with. Modern readers who object to its omission on the grounds of double standards are missing two points--in the 1979 publishing world there absolutely WERE double standards governing that sort of thing--and it’s a lot easier to write about bad sex than good sex. Case may have been stymied, like many writers before, by the limitations of language to convey what can be the most transcendent of human experiences. Rather than aiming for the stars and hitting the garage door, he may have opted to let the readers to fill in the blanks and, in another sense, the characters as well.
Though told from a third person omniscient POV, "Wingmen" is Fred’s story. Events are related from Jack’s perspective, but more time is spent in Fred’s head, much of which is consumed by brooding on Jack’s feelings for him. As such, we experience the development of those feelings at a remove, like Fred himself does.
To have the moment where questioning becomes certainty occur offstage, and literally cut to a shot of blowing curtains, could be viewed as weakening the narrative, but by leaving it offstage, Case allows an element of UNcertainty to serve a poignant function.
For this is a relationship in which a great deal is left unsaid—Jack’s resistance to acknowledging the nature of his attachment, their jocular pillow talk, the heartbreaking innocuousness of their letters--it’s plausible the word “love” was never spoken between them, and that that early uncertainty might always have sown doubt in Fred as to the mutuality of Jack's feelings, foreshadowing the epilogue.
Objections to the inclusion of the epilogue (criticism 3) center on the rescue of the two pilots after the battle of Truk as the emotional peak of the novel, and ergo, the logical endpoint, beyond which anything else is an anticlimactic wrapping up of loose ends. I suspect the real reason is that they wished Case had left Jack and Fred on the sub so they could imagine a gauzy happy ever after--but many, if not most gay men in postwar America didn’t get a happy ever after. Leaving them “[picked up from] the seas off Truk” opens the door to a vision of a far less happy future of closets and cover marriages.
Scrapbook is where we learn their love endured, the chance taken, lasting union.
Between the lines of letters and newspaper clippings is the chronicle of their emotional reunion in Pearl, the blissful early years together, the successful business, the house, Jack’s book, the milestones of a life that was, in the balance, far sweeter than it was bitter. But there also is the chronicle of the encroaching threat of postwar social attitudes and the slow erosion of the haven they created, and the reentry of Duane at the point where the events for which he was largely the catalyst come full circle: at Jack’s funeral.
What happened after Jack’s post-Truk return to the Constitution is left unsaid, but there can be little doubt, especially after the fiasco at Kwajalein, Jack would ever have believed Duane’s leaving him and Fred alone to face the Japanese at Truk was an accident, and this was the definitive end of their friendship. For years he’s been a few hours away in Santa Barbara, but only after Jack’s death does he approach Fred, in the penultimate scene of the novel.
A lesser writer would have made Duane a villain, but Case allows some sympathy for this conflicted, contradictory character, who, with no real malice, did so much damage: dread of exposure by Duane may have inhibited Jack at Truk, when his decision to stay with Fred or leave him to his fate seemed to rest upon the absence of witnesses, and haunted him long after the two men were rescued. But through his monologue in the bar after the funeral, when it never occurs to him to express condolences to Fred, Duane blunders into a kind of redemption, when, with characteristic obtuseness and purely selfish motives, he asks Fred, at the lowest point in the other man’s life, to settle the question that has been nagging at him for a quarter of a century:
“...Jack left the target in a...flyable aircraft...did he ditch...because of you?”
and inadvertently gives Fred a priceless gift: the knowledge that Jack would have rather died with him than lived without him. Duane gives Fred certainty at last of the depth of Jack’s love for him-- but it’s a gift with a sting in the tail, because that’s a conversation they will never get to have.
For you get the feeling that this was a very insular relationship, and when Fred loses the man with whom he’s spent most of his adult life, his isolation is total.
The decisive tragedy of “Wingmen” isn’t that Jack dies, or that his death was probably hastened by the stress of negotiating between his public and closeted lives. It’s not even that Fred is left alone. It’s that after the life they built together, after all they did--and sacrificed--to be together, as far as the world is concerned, their relationship never existed at all.
And ironically, the only person who knows what Jack really meant to Fred is Duane Higgins.
With no one to talk to, he asks the silent question to himself,
“Oh, Jack, did you really do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”
But it’s a question for which there can never be an answer. Jack Hardigan now belongs to the past.
That’s Ennis del Mar finding the shirts in Jack Twist’s closet.
That’s “Jack, I swear.”
That’s why the Scrapbook isn’t superfluous, it’s crucial.
That’s where “Wingmen” goes from being a good novel to being a great one.

[Marc · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars for the audiobook version of this book.

I haven't read all that many historical fiction books, but the ones I tried were really good and this one is no exception. I was provided a review code for this audiobook and listened to it, while I was working on folding 17,000 letters. It's the kind of work you don't need to concentrate on and it would have been very boring, were it not for this book.

It quickly sucked me into another time and I found the story of the main character quite fascinating. This is a well-written historical fiction story and while it is not explicit and the focus is not on the romance per se, I really loved the focus on the relationship between the main character and his boss and wingman.

It starts as professional respect and turns into friendship and eventually more. It is slow-building and subtle, but very intriguing. I loved the unique perspective and really liked the main characters and secondary characters. The book never tried to simply the complex nature of the war or the characters. It is not black and white. There are characters who change and some who will never be likable, but are more than mere one-dimensional villains.

Without claiming authority on the time period (at all), the book felt authentic.

Merely the end felt kind of rushed to get to a bittersweet ending. It felt like there was an entire second novel that is scratched at in passing, but it would have been beyond the scope of this book to explore it in detail. Still, I couldn't help but feel a bit stunned at the quick end after the 'main stoory' is left behind and readers et to the epilogue.

All in all, though, a great audiobook and story I can highly recommend!

[Fenriz Angelo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Re-read on 2025: There's times i feel compelled to revisit my most cherished books. Wingmen is my go-to.

It never fails to make me feel a full range of emotions through the story, there's just something about it that strongly speaks to me. Be it the writing, the theme, the characters, idk. It simply does.

And i feel so lucky i managed to get the first edition paperback for a reasonable price two or so years ago. I've always wanted to hold a physical copy of this edition because that cover is simply to die for, but its niche nature makes it the most difficult book to find outside grifters asking thousands for it. So now that i have it i treasure this little book a fucking lot.

So i can say i fulfilled my whish of reading it in paperback this time :).

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Re-read on 2021: Brain was like "read something that makes you happy" so I read this. There's no words to explain how much I cherish this story.

I hate Duane Higgins so so fucking much also.

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Re-read on 2019: I'm glad i revisited this book this weekend, it was the kind of book i needed to just get by. I was glued to the pages as if it were the first time i read it, wanting so bad to know what happens next. God...wish i had the three editions in paperback.

Original review sums up what i like about the story.

PS. Duane Higgins is The Fucking Worst.

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Original review (June 2017): Oh man this book is something else, I regret no reading it right away when I discovered it. But it's never too late, right?

People don't lie when they say this book is a classic war story, I could put it alongside with The thin red line, All quiet in the western front, Das boot, The naked and the dead, and many others. The only difference is that unlike in the others, the protagonists of this book are two men that fall in love with each other. Also, unlike in some of other war books, in here the homosexuals aren't depicted as erratic men, creepy, or a mess. On the contrary, they are role models for the flyboys in the squadron. How radical is that for a book published in the 70's?! I love it.

The story is enthralling and the descriptions of air exercise and combat are easy to follow and the author clearly knows what he's talking about. Even if nothing of importance happened I was glued to the book. The camaraderie on the ship is palpable, the struggle Fred and Jack have due this feeling that they don't quite belong socially with this group of men and still do things to just fit in is so real. The interactions between the characters is full of chemistry, and the ways they both discover in their own way about what made them different from the other men is just so heartwarming to witness.

This story overall has a subtle or not so subtle message about men's behavior in wartimes, criticism about the military regard to the soldiers and a positive message about how every single men can be as heroic and professional in the military as any other regardless of their sexuality.

The only thing that left me with a weird feeling is the ending, i got the feeling the couple had a good life after the war but also not due to an incident that marked Jack forever. And it's a bit sad...but if i give more thought maybe the author had a reason to end things the way he did. Considering that after the war there was a war within the military regarding hunting down homosexuals because they suddenly didn't need them to serve in a war...what Fred said in the end makes sense.

Amazing book, goes straight to my favorite reads of the year!

[Kirstine]

I've been meaning to read this for over ten years, and now that I finally have, I feel like it will take another ten for it to worm its way out of my brain.

I'm uncertain what precisely to make of it, but the uncertainty is positive, it's intrigue. No wonder it made its way into a reprinting decades after its release.

The plot is simple. In the final years of World War II, Fred “Trusty” Trusteau, a skilled pilot, comes to serve under Jack Hardigan, a competent and experienced officer, and sparks fly - both around them and between them. Thrown together in tight quarters as they travel the Pacific Ocean to engage the enemy, they come to rely on each other and, eventually, fall in love.

While the romance is certainly the heart of the novel - and the main goal that the narrative strives towards - it happens against a backdrop of military operations during the height of war, and Ensan Case does not skimp on a single detail. I can't attest to the accuracy of his depictions of navy operations or aerial combat, knowing precisely nothing myself, but it's written so convincingly and with such bold confidence, that I have to believe it's been researched to some degree. Case himself served in the navy, so that explains part of it, but if he’s simply bullshitting knowledge of WWII, well, I'll never know.

Anyone going into it expecting a romance by the standards of romance novels today will be rather disappointed. For the most part, this is a novel about men at war with lengthy paragraphs on military operations that my eyes lightly skimmed. The fight scenes are well-written however, and honestly had me a bit on the edge of my seat.

That said, it's also a surprisingly sympathetic and soft depiction of... men's feelings? The three point of view characters are Fred, Jack, and Duane, a close friend of Jack’s. Each have their own struggles, with each other, the world and themselves, and each deal with them in different ways. Duane may be the very ideal of a macho man, but even he has nuance and complex emotions. In fact Fred and Jack often lament the lack of depth of feeling amongst the other men, but even so none of the side characters felt particularly one dimensional to me.

Most of all I'm astounded at how tolerant the novel is. It’s rarely derogatory and it doesn’t belittle characters, not even ones that perhaps deserve it. There's no internalised homophobia and there's no external homophobia either, not in passing and not aimed at the characters. Not even from Duane when he discovers what Fred and Jack are up to. It exists, but as a remote cause of concern, not an immediate one.

Despite them being up against the Japanese, there’s a lot less racism than you might expect. And while there's a degree of sexism amongst the men, it's never nasty or unpleasant, and it's honestly never supported by the book itself. It’s mostly outweighed by the inclusion of Eleanor, a young, but wealthy widow, who's out to get a fucking man and have some fun. I adore her.

"'It’s a good thing you came when you did,' [Eleanor] said. 'I’ve refused eight drinks, four dances, and two proposals of marriage.' Jack laughed. 'And that was from just one stranger.'"

While the sentiments of the novel feel very modern, the writing does date the book a bit, as does the inexperience of Ensan Case as a writer. In an odd turn of events, the story felt a little like fanfiction at times, leading me to consider if it might not be the other way around. Women reading books such as these, using that language in fanfiction, and fanfiction, to this day, carrying that fingerprint with it. If only it wasn't the undying fingerprint of calling characters the "older" or "younger" man.

There's also the absolutely incredible way Jack realises he's in love with Fred. When Fred's plane is damaged, he's forced to land on another ship where he gets some help from a friendly admiral on where to sleep for the night. Jack has some feelings about it:

"[Jack] was deep in a mental turmoil triggered by the ridiculous picture of Fred Trusteau sleeping with Admiral Berkey. It had been replaced in Jack’s mind with the next logical step: Fred Trusteau should have been here, sleeping with Jack Hardigan."

I'm honestly a little astounded that Ensan Case can take something as melodramatic (I say this with genuine fondness, I love that scene) as that and make it seem in character for a man as measured as Jack Hardigan. It works because Case himself is rather measured in describing it. No one is ever overtaken by emotion, whether negative or positive, which can make the story - for anyone expecting a full-blown romance - seem a little underwhelming, but I think it's a savvy move. It gives real weight to the things they do and feel for each other in the rare moment they have time to think of and act on it.

Sometimes the language feels clunky, scenes can get a little confusing, and occasionally the point of view shifts oddly between characters, but despite these debutant problems, I think Ensan Case has a truly good thing going. He writes emotionally coherent characters, he engages with those emotions, and he uses them actively as driving forces, while telling a sweeping tale of heroics that feels remarkably realistic and engaging, if, perhaps, at times a little bogged down by military jargon.

It's also, at times, pretty funny.

"Hey, Trusty,' said Patrick, sitting in the chair next to his. 'How do you spell ‘funeral’?' He was writing a letter.
'F-u-n-o-r-a-l.'"

The thing that had me stumped for a while was the ending. Jack and Fred end up together after the war, and spend 25 years running a business together while hiding their relationship until Jack dies of a heart attack. At the funeral Fred reconvenes with Duane, who married Eleanor. Duane was almost certainly also in love with Jack, but refused to see it. Fred admits his and Jack's relationship, and Duane shows no anger, but uses the opportunity to sing Jack's praises.

And then Fred, internally, confesses something about his time with Jack. As time wore on, Jack got increasingly paranoid due to their relationship. He was afraid and anxious, to the point where it dulled his wit.

At first this felt so entirely out of character for Jack I struggled to understand the intent behind it. It could have been a modified “bury your gays” scenario, an unhappy ending for the censors, but I’m not quite buying that either.

Being afraid is a perfectly rational, albeit tragic, response to a society that very much wanted to erase your very existence. I don’t think it’s a “being gay is bad” statement, rather a “being gay is hard” one.

And as I puzzled over it, something else dawned on me. Despite Jack’s fear, despite his anxiety and paranoia, despite how difficult it got: He never left.

Jack had a choice, at one point, to keep flying and land safely back at the base. Or to crash his perfectly functional plane into the ocean to save the life of the man he loves. He would have known it was not going to be easy, and half his fear is certainly for Fred instead of himself.

And he doesn’t leave. For 25 years he doesn’t leave. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t pretty, and it’s such a bittersweet conclusion, such an unfair hand to be dealt.

And yet they stay together.

It’s unfortunate that this novel wasn’t more of a success, because I think Ensan Case, with some practice, could have written some truly great novels. I will look for them in my dreams.

[Switchbladesmile · Rating 5 out of 5]

OMG, this book was great! Just awesome! I loved every page of it and I suffered with Jack and Fred. The precious moments between them were so sweet, so touching.
I also loved the history in this book and the detailed description of the maneuvers, it was exciting and it reminded me of the cruelty of this horrible war. I also felt sad and in the end I cried for both of them, my feelings were mixed.
This book is unique!

[Gerry Burnie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gerry B's Book Reviews - http://gerrycan.wordpress.com

You may have noticed I have a passion for WWII-vintage stories, and have reviewed several in the past. I like the era in general. It was a time when the free-world was drawn together by a war in two theatres, and men bonded together as warrior brothers—and sometimes more. Wingmen by Ensan Case (a pseudonym) [Cheyenne Publishing, 2012] captures the latter phenomenon with remarkable clarity and credibility. It is, in fact, one of the best war stories I have read.

Ensign Frederick “Trusty” Trusteau, one of two wingmen assigned to “skipper,” Lieutenant Commander J.J. “Jack” Hardigan. Trusteau is a handsome, capable aviator, who has honed his reputation as a “whoremaster” because that was (and is) the gold standard among predominantly male societies. It was very often a sham, or cover-up, but it was better than being considered the “odd-man-out.”

Jack Hardigan is a hard-drinking, hard driving skipper, who is dating a wealthy widow in Honolulu, but apart from a certain level of affection, there is no evidence of sexual activity between them. Therefore, there is no grand regrets when she breaks off their relationship for someone else.

The relationship between the two men starts, as it usually does, with earned respect on both sides; in this case as pilots of the famed Grumman Hellcats flown off the deck of a carrier. The bond grows stronger with each mission—warrior brothers—until it inevitably ends in a hotel room in Honolulu, where the line between brothers-in-arms and lovers is finally crosssed. However , if you are looking for a torrid, sexually erotic scene between two horny flyboys, you (gratefully) will not find it here. This scene is definitely sexy because of the circumstances—and the fact that we’ve been waiting for it for nearly two-thirds of the story—but in 1979 you didn’t write that sort of thing if you wanted to find a publisher—even an avant-garde one. Nevertheless, I think it is made a more realistic story because of it. This a story about men in love in war, and not about sex per se.

Of course the story wouldn’t be complete without an appropriate setting, and Case has provided it on board a fictional aircraft carrier, the Constitution. You can almost smell the sweat and testosterone in these scenes as they jostle aboard her. His apparent knowledge of naval aircraft is an asset as well, with just enough detail to help the reader understand without bogging the pace down in the process.

For those into WWII nostalgia there are also well-known battles, i.e. Wake Island, Tarawa and Truk Lagoon, where most of the Japanese Imperial fleet was wiped out—60 ships and 275 airplanes. Case has also provided an insight into the gruesomeness of war in some tense scenes where men are shot down, blown apart, and drowned mercilessly in the fray, and in the end Jack risks his life to save his lover.

Nevertheless, I agree with several other reviewers that the story should have ended on a high in 1945. The last part is interesting, mind you, and wraps up some loose ends, but it is anticlimactical. Given the excellence of the preceding, however, I’m not letting it dampen my overall impression. Five bees.

[Elisa Rolle]

If you consider the time this novel first was out, 1979, and the period it refers to, II World War, Wingmen is a daring novel since it “allows” to its heroes an happily for now ending, something that was seldom read at the time. Novels with gay themes had sometime made their appearance in the past, but most often than not, the heroes were not allowed to be able to enjoy their love. Even in most notorious novels like Gaywick, another release from Avon Books of the ‘70s, the happily ever after was not a 100% one, and not all the gay characters had it.

Having read “From Here to Eternity”, I can recognize the similar theme, but in that novel there was a subtle shame for being gay, and those characters who consciously admitted they were gays, were seen like weak and needing men, beginning sex in exchange of money. Love seemed not part of the equation, and that is the main difference in Wingmen; true, there is sex between Jack and Fred (even if, remember, this is the 1979 and set between 1940s and 1960s, so nothing is overtly on your face), but there is above all love. It’s a great love story, and both Jack than Fred are able to admit they are in love, that is not only basic physical desires attracting each other.

Wingmen is also a good was novel, with plenty of details on the war and war setting; it’s strange because I have always thought to Avon like a romance publisher, but that is probably the evolution they had from the ’70 on, starting to publish the notorious Savage Romance novels. Instead Wingmen is as much a “man” novel as it’s a romance, able to mix the two elements in a perfect combination.

And if someone is wondering on the real possibility of such story happening, I strongly suggest to read Coming Out Under Fire by Allan Berube (re-released in 2010 in a 20th Anniversary edition), many of the stories in that essay are a replica of what happened between Jack and Fred in the novel, and many like Jack and Fred came back from that war changed in many ways, and trying to reconnect with a world that was no more theirs. Some of them managed to be happy forever, some of them for a brief period, but at least they tried, at least they had the courage to fight for their love like they fought for their country.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/1937692086/?...

[beenis · Rating 5 out of 5]

the yearning bro…. THE YEARNING….. 😭 😭 😭 GAYS WIN GUYS

[Jeff · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was (very) pleasantly surprised by Wingmen. From the cover and the summary, I was afraid I was wading into schlocky romance territory, but the story had a lot of depth and I couldn't put it down. I like a good slow burn, and Fred and Jack's relationship does take a while to build, but I was quickly hooked and soaking up every delicious detail and scene along the way. The novel was just so very believable - the relationship and the setting, in particular. It's loaded with jargon, but luckily that does not detract from the story and only strengthens it instead. I could see it as a fantastic, understated, romantic movie. Just imagine: the two dashing pilots silhouetted against the starlit Pacific, the covert glances and touches, the heart-stopping battle scenes, etc. Someone make this film and appease me! Can't wait to read it again! (Side note: Jack's appearance, description, name, occupation...could anyone else not help but think 'Jack Harkness' the whole time?! That was sure as hell my mental image of him!)

[Califg70 · Rating 5 out of 5]

A well written book filled with laugther, hope and friendship! The story brings you into each line and makes you feel the moment. One is able to truly visualize the fight scenes, the anguish of longing for someone from a distance and the horror and loss of fighting in a war. I wont give away any details of the story because I truly believe this book MUST be read from beginning to end over and over again!

[Literatures Movies]

Nothing wrong with it.

Just realized that I can't do with just "It's romance, but not really" type of book.

I need my good dose of romance, and this book just doesn't have it.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars, rounded up.

I initially soft dnf'd this last November and it took me almost a year to come back to it, but I'm so glad that I did. I'm not typically a fan of mid-century American writing, but once I got used to that, I found myself really enjoying the story. So glad I went back to it though - Jack and Fred's story will definitely stay with me.

[Michael Erickson · Rating 5 out of 5]

While reading as a hobby is enjoyable for the most part, its inevitable that most books will fall in the middle of the bell curve in terms of quality. But sometimes you get lucky and accidentally find something at the extreme end. To me, this was a masterpiece, and I feel fortunate that I've lived long enough to come across this work, there's no other word I can think of.

Not everyone will get the same mileage out of this that I did though. What we have here is a historical military novel (a genre I enjoy) set on an aircraft carrier (a niche interest of mine) with detailed descriptions of ship-to-ship aerial combat (also right up my alley), all overlaying one of the most emotional and accurate gay romances I've ever read. It being set during the Pacific theater of WWII, there are some pretty notable character deaths that surprised me, and I found myself genuinely worrying about the two leads during the climax in a way few books have been able to make me feel.

Of course parts of this book will seem dated; the hyper-masculine setting results in a lot of displays of eye roll-inducing macho culture and there are anti-Japanese slurs out the wazoo. But I still appreciate that this book was written at all when it was, and about men in a time and place where they couldn't be open about themselves. You could feel the danger in each clandestine rendezvous and the ending - though bittersweet - still feels hard-fought and earned by the protagonists.

Further heightening how this book affected me was its history that I looked up after finishing it; the author published it in 1979 to a weak reception, and largely gave up on writing after that. By chance he discovered in 2011 that it had developed a cult following for being an early work of gay fiction, which inspired him to get it re-published and start working on a spin-off novel. Unfortunately he passed in 2024 before he could finish it, which I'm genuinely bummed out about.

It's been almost a week since I've finished this book, and I'm still thinking about specific individual scenes all this time later. Fred and Jack will probably be bouncing around the back of my head for some time yet, and I don't mind one bit.

[Abiyasha · Rating 5 out of 5]

OH MY GOD!

What can I say about this book aside from being one of the best gay themed novels I've ever read? It's not an exaggeration, I can tell you.

Though I have to admit that it took me a while to get into the book (part of it was due to a lot of technical things about pilot, planes, etc) but once I got in, it was hard to let go.

The romance in this book is not the biggest portion, but to me, that's what makes it so romantic! The build up was intense and I couldn't help but cry at the end of the book. Jack and Fred's love was so big that I was envious of it.

It's called a classic queer literature for a reason!

[Aura.Hyel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I first read this unforgettable novel at the time of its first publication. I could not believe how well written it was; it still is some 3-decades plus. The novel would translate to a great motion picture. My colleague, John Steven Lasher, former record-label executive, has composed [he is a conservatory-trained musician] a stirring score, which is based on chapters in the book. It's worth a listen on either Tumblr or YouTube.

Purchase the book; you won't be disappointed.

[Hilcia · Rating 5 out of 5]

I began reading Wingmen by Ensan Case on a Saturday afternoon and couldn't put it down until I finished it late the following day. It's that good!

The love story between Lt. Commander Jack Hardigan, USN and Ensign Frederick "Trusty" Trusteau begins in 1943 toward the end of the Pacific conflict during World War II, after Pearl Harbor and the Battle of Midway. The Navy is in the midst of reorganizing the fleet and reconfiguring their strategy against the Japanese. Experienced naval combat aviators are scarce with a majority falling under the young and untried-in-battle classification.

When Trusteau transfers to the VF-20, the fighting squadron of Air Group Twenty, aboard the fictitious aircraft carrier Constitution, he is an inexperienced aviator and his new skipper Jack Hardigan, a hotshot veteran of Midway with quite a few kills under his belt. Trusteau's admiration for Hardigan is immediate and on a grand scale. As events unfold and Fred becomes Jack's wingman, for Jack, the trust that develops between them in the skies translates to everyday admiration of a young man whose flying skills highlight personal qualities, such as loyalty, efficiency and an ability to think on his toes, while on the ground.

Fred is clueless about his sexuality, but knows he’s indifferent to women and doesn’t ‘fit in’ with the other men in his squadron. To fit, Fred follows their lead and has sex with prostitutes, including when he transfers to the VF-20 squadron where he gains the nickname "Trusty" after lasting 17 minutes and gaining a stud’s reputation. But Fred doesn't understand why the other men make such a big deal about women. Yet, Fred does everything in his power to get close to Jack, and although it takes him a while to figure it out, it quickly becomes clear that Fred’s crush on his skipper is enormous. Jack, on the other hand, is dating a wealthy war widow, and for him it's all about company while on leave. There's more of a friendship than a sexual vibe between them, and Jack prefers to spend time with his men than with her. Unlike Fred, Jack fits in with the men and it isn't until much later that he begins to equate his desire for Fred's company and fear of losing him in combat with a more personal attachment.

These are the 1940's, so the feelings that grow between Jack and Fred are kept closely guarded even from each other. There are two intimate scenes between Jack and Fred that take place away from the ship but, like in the old movies, everything fades to black when they hit the sheets. But feelings and emotions go deep for both of them, and before and after their intimate moments even when the two men are alone on the ship, conversations and physical contact are maintained on the buddy level. There's no outward acknowledgment of feelings, particularly under the circumstances since they were at war.

And it’s war! Ensan Case's Wingmen is a plot and character driven novel. His research of what transpired in the Pacific during World War II is fantastic and his take of life in an aircraft carrier is riveting. There is a particular vibrant atmosphere to his portrayal of the life men lead at close quarters on the ship, as well as when they are on leave -- the hard drinking and incessant smoking, the jocular ribbing and womanizing, as well as the desire to distinguish themselves during battle – that allows the reader to know these men. Additionally, Case gives them distinct personalities, making the reader care whether they live or die.

Case also hits the right note when focusing on the politics of command and strategies used by the Americans to hit the Pacific islands -- beginning with Marcus and moving on to Wake, Tarawa, Kwajalein, and Truk -- by incorporating details without, for one moment, slowing the pace or the excitement of the novel. Those details make this novel what it is, as he also incorporates what is critical to the men: the maneuverability of Hellcats, Corsairs and Avengers, dangers of landing on the aircraft carriers, the terrible accidents, lack of supplies. All of those details lead to the strategic air battles in the skies, as well as the one-on-one situations which become some of the most tension-filled and exhilarating moments of the story.

Case ends the book with a postwar section written in letter format that gives the reader a broad idea of what happens to the main characters after the war and an epilogue that ends in 1969. I would have preferred if Fred and Jack’s story had ended a bit earlier, but frankly that did not influence my love of this book one way or another. Wingmen by Ensan Case is a fabulous fusion of historical fiction and romance that I recommend to everyone, but particularly to those who love exciting, well-researched tales set in the Pacific during World War II, as well as to readers who love a war time, tension-filled romance.

[Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book took me forever to finish. Didn't draw me in fully and I think the writing style was a bit plain (especially after reading Cormac McCarthy) but the last 40 or so pages were so good and the ending made me cry, so bumping up a star.

[Alan · Rating 3 out of 5]

A year after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Ensign Frederick Trusteau, a naval aviator in the US Navy, finds himself transferred into a new outfit, the F20 fighter pilots in Honolulu. Trusteau (Trusty) quickly earns a reputation as a lady’s man with the other pilots, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He is confused about sexual matters, and dates women because that is what is expected of him, not out of desire. But the one sexual thing that becomes clear to Trusteau is that he gets aroused anytime he comes near his commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Jack Hardigan.

Hardigan is a flying ace, a hard drinking, hard driving skipper who takes a liking to Trusteau because of Trusty’s flying skills and his likable demeanor. Of course Hardigan also appreciates Trusty’s handsome looks, but he keeps that to himself. The two become so close that Hardigan makes Trusty his wingman, which angers the second in command, who had enjoyed that prestigious position before Trusty came along.

Hardigan and Trusteau grow closer and more intimate, needing each other’s comfort and support until they discover and come to terms with their mutual sexual attraction. They eventually spend a night together in a Honolulu hotel room consummating their love. The second in command sees them together and realizes the nature of their relationship.

The squadron sets sail aboard a fictional aircraft carrier, Constitution, during the later half of the war. They fly deadly missions in several key battles: Wake Island, Tarawa and Truk Lagoon. Both Trusty and Hardigan face danger, are shot down and show extraordinary heroism. In the final battle, Hardigan risks everything to save his wingman. Do they survive the battle? Do they end up together?

This is a well-written, exciting, and emotionally touching novel. It is bound to become a classic in gay literature. It is character driven, and the author takes great care in creating complex, believable characters. I found myself pulling for them on every page.

Case also has a remarkable talent for creating tension in each scene, much of which is derived from the physical and emotional jostling of fighting men jammed together in life-threatening circumstances. And set within these extreme conditions and surrounded by all these manly soldiers, the author paints a touching and plausible love affair between these two men.

I was impressed with the author’s depth of knowledge regarding WWII aircraft, procedures aboard an aircraft carrier, WWII battles, and also the camaraderie among military men. Case has done his homework well, and it shows in the seamless authenticity of the entire story.

My one minor complaint came in the last twenty or so pages where the author wraps up loose ends in a postwar montage that is, for the most part, shown through a series of letters. The ending fell flat and added nothing to an otherwise exhilarating story. Wingman would be a more enjoyable read had it simply ended in 1945. This novel will no doubt be a five-star hit with readers who enjoy MM, gay fiction, and/or historical military fiction.

[yen · Rating 5 out of 5]

goddamn, the world war fiction i have been reading thus far are SERVING!

this book will definitely be close to my heart. i have never read anything like this yet -- an obscure queer novel published in the 70s when homosexuality was still largely stigmatized, set against the backdrop of the second world war focused on the exploits of the us navy in the pacific theater. at its heart are fred trusteau & jack hardigan, excellent naval aviators who are each other's wingmen and develop their relationship deeper amidst military culture and mortal peril.

i went into this book without much expectations since no one i know in the book space has read this and i haven't heard anything about it. but since i was already coming from a top gun hyperfixation and a post-ww1 fiction high, this was definitely the best book to pick up next.

i mainly picked this book up to read about m/m romance set in ww2 and i already expected it not to be heavy with the romance due to the period it was set in. though slow and sparse, the romance developed naturally and beautifully -- this is in spite of physical affection being peppered sparingly. this combination made even the slightest, briefest physical interactions so swoonworthy! but the romance isn't just what made the book stellar. the setting, the atmosphere, the naval warfare, and the descriptions of piloting fighter planes opened up a whole new world of research rabbit holes for me. just when i thought top gun would be my peak foray into naval aviation, this novel made me even more obsessed with fighter aircraft, aircraft carriers, and the history of ww2 pacific theater. plus, ensan case writes really well -- descriptive as needs to be when it comes to warfare sequences, poignant when it comes to the romance, textbook when it comes the the war diary, and authentic when it comes to the epistolaries.

if it's not already apparent with this rambling review, ensan case's wingmen is potentially on top of my 2024 reads, tied with alice winn's in memoriam. it's even more special as it is the first book i have finished in my first ever kindle ♡ i'm even considering getting the flying aces' insignia -- the jack of hearts with a sword -- as a tattoo to commemorate my favorite character jack hardigan in perpetuity.


wingmen deserves more recognition!

ps. i feel so empty seeing that there are no english ao3 fanfics yet for this book. how can i cure this book hangover?
pps. queer romance is just more beautiful and on another level compared to hetero romance imo 😭

[Amanda Clay · Rating 4 out of 5]

I won't lie, the entire time I read this tale of love and war and the men who fly the fightin' Hellcats from the decks of the mighty carriers, I kept imagining square-jawed Montgomery Clift as hotshot young Fred 'Trusty' Trusteau, and the awesome ass of Burt Lancaster filling out the uniform of his CO and reluctant love, Jack Hardigan. (I'm also pretty sure that if Monty ever read this, he imagined that too).

This is a slow-burner written with the level of detail that can only be achieved by someone who really lived this life. I learned more about the War in the Pacific than I could have in a month of the History Channel (circa about 15 years ago when all they ever showed was Victory at Sea). The spark strikes early between Fred and Jack, but there's a lot of solitary longing before that fateful R&R in Pearl Harbor. The book could have done with a subplot or even one more major character as it does lag in places (you can only sail to and from Micronesia so many times) but it's still well written and sweetly romantic, though the sexy is somewhat lacking (they do it, but it's not super-descriptive as is the case in most of these Avon classics). This one was not just good for an Avon Classic, but a good book all-around.

[Maddy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The slowest of slow burns! I flew through this book just because I was desperate to see if the next genial pat on the back or friendly bit of conversation would turn into anything.

[Snow]

Like war, love — all kinds of love — is for men who can take it. If they dare.

Read this during my Top Gun era! I couldn't believe how long it took me to finish the book (one book didn't usually take me this long back then). In my defense, it was quite a slow-paced book, so me and my short attention span didn't deal with it well, but I still thought it was really enjoyable! Wingmen is a historical queer mlm novel depicting the events of World War II through navy pilots Fred Trusteau and Jack Hardigan. The first half of the book, or rather all the parts before the relationship between the two main characters blossoms were quite slow, but it steadily builds up the atmosphere of the story and really takes it time to sculpt the characters. The author definitely knows their way around the navy (even their pseudonym sounds like the rank "ensign"; side note, I recently watched a Pat Highsmith documentary and realized why writers back in the day used pen names while writing queer books), and you can tell by how beautifully written all the dogfight scenes were. It makes you feel like you're in the navy, flying through the skies with them and going through the horrors of war.

The relationships and characters were also really well crafted, and although I've seen complaints about how this technically isn't a romance novel, as a non romance enjoyer, it was absolutely just the right amount of romance for me. I am so glad they didn't center the characters' entire personalities around "being in love with the other person", which a lot of romance novels tend to do (*cough* song of achilles). These characters are, first and foremost, naval aviators, and they are dedicated pilots who have a responsibility — when they are in the sky, their duty is to their country. The queer relationship feels sort of like an add-on to the historical (war) ficiton, but still a welcome one nonetheless. However, I did have some issues with the center relationship at first, as it has the same problem I pointed out in Top Gun, which is a very apparent institutional power imbalance between rankings of the people involved. I don't like power dynamics when it comes to relationships, and especially so when there is an external authority reinforcing it, in addition to other inherent/internal forces like age gap and maturity. I think by the end, I was willing to overlook it since the story was well-written and the relationship developed nicely — there were a lot of really gorgeous, poetic scenes, like them staring across the bar at each other (so much love, so so much love), that stopped me from being so hung up on the power dynamic, but I still think this is a topic that is worth discussing about. End note, the quote at the back of the book is so beautiful!

[Kitkat · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely super book, fantastic romance, realistic scenes, great characters. It's the kind of book that lives on in your head after and makes you decide to read more about the Pacific Theatre in WW2. I learnt history from this book.

Writing-wise, some of the "Fred thoughts..." were a bit clunky, but the style definitely improved as it went on. I loved Jack and Fred, and enjoyed reading Higgins, who was quite an enigma himself (possibly secretly in love with Jack himself?). The setting in Pearl Harbour and on board aircraft carriers was brilliantly portrayed, I could hear, smell and see the ships. The dog fights were beautifully done, edge of your seat stuff.

I was desperately reading through the night to see if (1) they would ever get together and (2) survive.

Enjoyed so much I immediately went back to read again, to see what I had missed. What a shame this guy didn't write more books, and what a shame the time it was written meant it was never adapted.

[Box of Bees · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great relationship, good writing, good setting. Wish there was more physical description of Fred and that they had taken longer to fall in love. Also don't see why the M/M sex was fade-to-black but the straight sex wasn't. Ending was a bit sad and seemed unnecessary

[Helga · Rating 5 out of 5]

Okay, I've been trying to think of a coherent review for about three months and I'm still at a loss for words. It's simply one of the sweetest most amazing love stories I've ever read.

But it's also so much more than a love story. It's a book about war. The fight over the Pacific plays a great role here. It's an essential part of the story, not just a convenient background. In some way it is the story.

It's also a book about professionalism. Both Jack and Fred (and all the other members of Fighting Twenty) are excellent at what they do. They are committed to their duty, that's what drives them, that's what they appreciate in others and in each other and that's what, in a way, brings them together.

It's also a book about self-awareness and being brave enough and humble enough to understand your feelings and accept them even when you know that "the time or place doesn't exist for anything of that nature, in peace or war".

The romance is slow to build and for about half the book it doesn't even look like anything could happen at all (it's set in 1943, after all). And when it does... awww. It's not explicit (although there are a couple of hetero sex scenes which are not too graphic either) but the few kisses and embraces these guys share are worth more (to me, at least) than the majority of the sex scenes I've read other the years.

It's not an angsty book as you might expect given the time period. I'm still torn over the epilogue, though. For a great part of the story I was afraid that one of them would get killed but to my immense relief they both made it through the war and went on to live happily ever after... for almost 25 years, until Jack dies of heart attack in 1969. The epilogue is Jack's funeral. I... could have lived without that. There are things in this last chapter that I think are very important for the story to stay true to itself so I won't say the book would've been better without these last pages. And twenty five years is much much more than I ever expected them to have together, considering the circumstances. But it still hurt.

The writing seems quite simple, and it is, but it's good simple. There's a kind of good humor in it that I love. It seems pretty direct but there's also a lot of things that are not said out loud, don't even seem to be hinted at but they still can be read quite clearly between the lines.

So... I don't really know what else to say. If you haven't read it and you're thinking about it, you really should. It's beautiful and tender and honest and it's full of love. It's one of the best books I've read in a very very long time.

[Charmaine · Rating 4 out of 5]

A year later: As I am wont to do with novels whose stories I mentally revisit often, I am adding another star to my original rating. A number of gay romance novels later and the poignant Wingmen has remained with me.

*

The backdrop of war here is a greater point of focus than I thought it would be. There were pages of the novel I, in reading, found myself becoming overwhelmed with all of the technical description of the pilots in their aircraft, though I do think that's what an aerial wartime novel is supposed to be, and have in it. Midway through, I'd begun to feel myself effectively immersed in the company of pilots.

My only regret is that we were disallowed a more intimate view of Jack and Fred. I wanted nearer, and nearer yet; a view unmarred by shame. For I did often feel there was a degree of that not only on the characters' behalf, but on the author's. This I say on account of the transparency that seemed ever-present in those passages involving women in their courtship with men, that went quite amiss in subsequent passages involving our leading men Jack and Fred.

But I am far removed from 1979; likely, this was naught but necessary and may well have been a frustration for the author. I understand this was written in a more dated time, and not only, but the gay romance genre had not yet been fully established.

This is, in all, a novel I might normally have overlooked but one I am now so glad I did not. Ensan Case's prose was something to relax to.

[The Checkopolis · Rating 5 out of 5]

All my heart.

I first read this precious book many years ago, no later than my early teens, I am quite sure. The copy I read had been thrown away or abandoned. I picked it up and kept it afterwards. The first few lines stood out to me (I still remember the words) and I could not put the book down.

I loved reading about the war and Jack and Fred's relationship, but I had at best a vague idea what it was all about. None of it was anything I could relate to, and I didn't think hard about it. I just loved the book and kept that copy I found. It occurred to me recently that this is actually the first MM book I ever read. I simply had to read it again. But after many years away from home, I'd forgotten many details about it. I found my old copy, but it was battered from reading and hard handling by others, and a good part of it was torn.

After a rather long search, I finally got a good copy. Let me just say, it's past 4 a.m. and I stayed up all night to finish it. It was everything I'd nostalgically remembered and more. It was better. It's funny the things your eyes miss when you're a child reading a grown-up book. I enjoyed it so much more this time. During the reread, my heart beat faster with worry on so many occasions, because I feared for our Jack and Fred, and couldn't remember how the book had ended.

Wingmen is a truly special book, a keeper; to be reread and re-cherished. I cannot recommend it enough.

[Julia · Rating 5 out of 5]

That is actually a copy-paste of my comment from Ensane Case's site, but anyway.

I finished reading your book yesterday and now I am having a massive book-hangover.

That was so good, god, I have never thought that I would be so, So involved into the book such a specific topic (I am talking about war planes and fights in the air), but I simply couldn't put this book down! I read it in two days, and that was amazing! Unforgettable experience. The author is a master of hooking the reader with this or that paragraph, details, and the plot is so ... tense up to the end!

Also that is very inspiring. The book is a brilliant example of how a writer should work with a text.

I wish the writer all the best <33