They Broke the Mold
“At 9:15 p.m., in pitch darkness, they [SAS team leader Bill Fraser and a small group of men] reached the airfield perimeter and slipped through the fence, carefully stepping over some tripwire booby traps; over the next thirty minutes they planted thirty-seven bombs, with staggered timers to ensure that all exploded at roughly the same moment…. The first bomb went off at forty-two minutes past midnight, followed by three more in quick succession as the attackers scrambled off the airfield…. The next morning…Fraser was summoned to report to the brigadier. ‘Sorry, Sir, I had to leave two aircraft on the ground as I ran out of explosives, but we destroyed thirty-seven.”
This is but one of dozens of episodes vividly rendered by Ben Macintyre in his latest book, which as its long subtitle declares, chronicles the history of the SAS, the unit that “sabotaged the Nazis and changed the nature of war.” This is no small claim, and Macintyre buttresses it with details drawn from the voluminous SAS regimental archives. He recounts the genesis of the unit, then moves on to its first (and often unsuccessful) baby steps in the African campaign, then on to later developments in the European theater, primarily Italy and Germany.
In his preface, Macintyre outlines his stance on the SAS:
“While many members of the wartime SAS exhibited extraordinary qualities, they were also human: flawed, occasionally cruel, and capable of making spectacular mistakes. The SAS has become a legend, but the true story contains darkness as well as light, tragedy and evil alongside heroism; it is a tale of unparalleled bravery and ingenuity, interspersed with moments of rank incompetence, raw brutality and touching human frailty.”
He also notes that while the history of the SAS is a “rattling adventure story,” he sought to reveal the “psychology of secret, unconventional warfare,” and the “reactions of ordinary people in extraordinary wartime circumstances.” Above all, he notes, “This is a book about the meaning of courage.”
Thus, Rogue Heroes focuses on individuals as well as attacks and campaigns. The men of SAS were a colorful lot, and Macintyre demonstrates a flair for the quick character study. (This I much appreciated, as it helped me remember who was who in the extensive cast of SAS figures.)
First and foremost was Lieutenant David Stirling, the founder of the SAS, an unfailingly polite but unconventional man. Stirling, scion of a famous Scottish family with deep connections in both the aristocracy and the upper echelons of the military, was initially regarded as “impertinent, incompetent, and profoundly irritating” by both his fellow officers and his superiors, yet he was endowed at the same time with phenomenal powers of concentration and great ingenuity.
While recovering in a hospital from his disastrous first parachute jump, Stirling came up with a vision that he then refined and zealously promoted: a unique fighting force with unprecedented independence and special skills, one made up of “fighters who were exceptionally brave but just short of irresponsible; disciplined but independent-minded; uncomplaining, unconventional and, when necessary, merciless.” Such men are not easily controlled, but then Stirling, whose contradictory traits rivalled those of his ideal soldiers, proved an inspired leader.
Macintyre is in his element as he gives thumbnail sketches of Stirling’s SAS recruits. Aside from Stirling, perhaps the most pivotal man was Paddy Mayne, a massive Irishman who had played for Ireland’s national rugby team. When sober, he seemed subdued and thoughtful, but Paddy was transformed by drink into a raging bull. Mayne led some of the most successful SAS attacks, but his actions in battle sometimes demonstrated almost suicidal bravery and at other times cold-blooded murder. Indeed, the SAS had more than its fair share of stone-cold killers, and the author does not romanticize or gloss over some of the more sordid and violent chapters in the unit’s history.
But the dark characters in this book are leavened by lighter ones, such as Captain Bob Walker-Brown, “who had joined the SAS after successfully tunnelling out of an Italian POW camp, crawling to liberty through the main sewer and then walking to Allied lines. He had an enormous moustache, a bluff sense of humour, an upper-class accent so fruity that the men barely understood his commands, and a habit of saying ‘what, what’ after every sentence, thus earning himself the nickname, ‘Captain What What.’”
Another was the first chaplain to the SAS, the Rev. Fraser McLuskey, “the parachute padre” who was found lying unconscious in a tree after his maiden jump. He was “a cheerful, self-mocking Scot with a wide, open face and an unshakeable, deeply examined faith,” and he tirelessly looked after the welfare of the men, helping treat the wounded, offering tea, cigarettes, paperback thrillers, or simply listening unjudgementally. McLuskey, who decided not to carry a gun, mused, “I think the men were glad to see the padre as a kind of symbol of the will of God for peace for all men.” The author, however, notes that “A man who fights with a gun can be brave, but a man who opts to take part in a shooting war without one may be braver still.”
Just as diverse as the soldiers were the many campaigns they engaged in. Essentially, each chapter of the book is a concise narrative of a major operation undertaken by the SAS. As these were generally carried out by small groups, there are brief synopses of the key figures involved, followed by a dramatic recounting of the action. Although this renders the structure of the book episodic, it is engrossing nontheless, particularly as the accounts are laced with flashes of humor and genuine drama. In fact, I found myself wondering how many of these exploits had already been mined (or will be mined) by Hollywood scripwriters.
Some operations were spectacular successes, while others were catastrophes. Macintyre, to his credit, cites the role that luck and German/Italian failings played in some of the successes, while he is equally objective in acknowledging the flaws leading to the failures. As promised, he cleaves to his goal of telling the unvarnished truth.
Macintyre characterizes the early fighting in Africa as a “gentleman’s war,” but this gave way to more savage and chaotic conditions when SAS operations shifted to Europe in the late stages of the war. The very success of the SAS tactics, which inflicted heavy losses upon and demoralized the Germans, led Hitler to issue his infamous “Commando Order,” which stipulated that any captured enemy soldiers found operating behind German lines would immediately be shot. Aside from fighting with what amounted to a death sentence if captured, the SAS was now fighting alongside various European partisan forces, who were a mixed bag, often poorly trained and equipped, prone to endless infighting and, on more than one occasion, betrayed by spies and informants.
As Allied forces drove the Germans into their homeland, “the tide of war turned in a welter of recriminations and blood-letting,” and the SAS, who had in the past laid ambushes for the enemy, now found themselves being ambushed, sometimes by civilians. One of the final scenes in the SAS’s European war took place when an SAS team on a reconnaissance foray became the first Allied soldiers to enter the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. In one of the most sobering chapters of the book, Macintyre describes the horrifying conditions the SAS men witnessed. One soldier wrote starkly, “This day at Belsen was the most horrible of my life.”
I have read most of Ben Macintyre’s work and enjoyed virtually all of it, yet this book, with its great sweep taking in the gamut/gauntlet of the SAS soldiers’ experience, is to my mind his most ambitious yet. He doesn’t claim to have penned the full and definitive history of the SAS during WWII, but I believe he made good on his promise to disclose “darkness as well as light, tragedy and evil alongside heroism.”
Note: I received an advanced reader’s copy of this book through the GoodReads “First Read” giveaway program. While I was told that writing a review was optional, I am happy to share my honest opinion on this latest work by one of my favorite nonfiction authors.