This book chronicles BAT-21, the greatest rescue mission in Navy SEAL history, inadvertently raising the question How much background information is too much when telling a non-fiction story? In his work, Stephan Talty demonstrates that he is a good storyteller, but his narrative lacks focus, making for a rather disorganized reading experience.
The prologue introduces us to the main character, Gene Hambleton, and to the predicament that he was in: his aircraft was shot down, forcing him to eject behind enemy lines. He was rightfully afraid that he would be discovered and captured by enemy soldiers, and sent to the North, where KGB agents would be more than happy to see him. We learn that he had been in the Air Force for almost thirty years and had worked on highly classified missile systems, specializing in electronic counter-warfare and collecting information that the Soviets were dying to know. Committed to memory he had the inner workings of radar systems and the names of cities that American nuclear warheads were pointed toward at that moment. We also learn that his brother was a war hero and that he loved his wife, Gwen – and that the Air Force was trying to save him. This is an informative enough prologue, which establishes who Hambleton was and why preventing him from falling into the Communists' hands was important. From then on, the story could have turned to the rescue attempts, to the Navy SEAL Tommy Norris, who would eventually save Hambleton, and to all the other interesting things.
Instead, the author embarks on a lengthy summary – several chapters – of Hambleton's biography for some reason. We are told all about his Midwestern roots, his father, who was born during the farm boom, the high price of corn after the First World War, what a mischievous boy Gene was in his childhood, his love story with Gwen, including her inability to have children, his Air Force training, and the beginning of his involvement in the Vietnam conflict. All of this goes on for fifteen pages. Then, the author dedicates five more pages to a similarly impertinent to the narrative biography of Norris, completing the second chapter of his work. These are two chapters of information suitable for a novel or a biography of Hambleton, but not for an account of the rescue mission.
In the next chapter, we find ourselves in Thailand, and we learn way more about Hambleton's hooch, Thai maid, the taste of Singaporean and Filipino beer, what the Air Force crews ate for breakfast, the parties they threw, and the jewelers of Bangkok than about the combat missions flown to Vietnam from there. There is barely any explanation of what EB-66s were and why they accompanied B-52s on missions. The only interesting and useful thing is the depiction of North Vietnam's SAM missiles, actually Russian, which had become icons of the Cold War and which shot down aircraft really effectively. The Americans had bought a model from Indonesia to study them, but failed to make an anti-missile missile or a laser that could intercept SAM, so the Air Force had to develop a technique called "jinking" – quickly maneuvering the aircraft to avoid the missile.
Long story short, nine chapters later, the narrative has not moved past the point from which it started, Hambleton behind enemy lines. We know how BAT-21, as his EB-66 was called, was shot down, a lot of unnecessary information about his crew members, such as who had gone to the 1955 Sugar Bowl, who was good at math, and so on. We are even treated to several paragraphs about the son of one of them, who had become an anti-war demonstrator, and to a paragraph of Gwen Hambleton's preparations for her trip to Thailand, including her cheklist of important things that she had to do before leaving her suburban Tuscon home, such as asking the neighbors to water the plants. All of these particulars are just mixed into the narrative, interrupting the account of what was happening to BAT-21, and are greatly distracting. It feels like a friend has begun telling you a story, but keeps remembering other stories and includes so many of them that you are starting to forget what the initial story was even about. All the important information in this first section of the work could have been condensed into thirty pages. Instead, one hundred pages into the author's work the story has still not got to the rescue mission. The only interesting piece of information so far is about the Soviets, who sent KGB agents to North Vietnam to advise their fellow Communists on interrogating the Americans and who organized teams of specially trained operatives to search the battlefields for radar systems, missiles, and classified weapons from airplanes, which were then studied in government laboratories. According to the author, they were using the Vietnam conflict to steal secrets.
When the story does finally meander to the rescue attempts, things get way more interesting. The author's account is still lengthy, but it is not boring by any means, so I will not spoil it for you. My problem with it is that it does not contribute much new to the topic. In the author's note, Talty thanks Darrel Whitcomb, an Air Force forward controller who wrote THE RESCUE OF BAT 21, a brilliant account of the rescue mission, and who allowed Talty to use his extensive collection of mission interviews, research materiel, maps, and photos to write his account. However, Talty's work had turned out inferior to Whitcomb's. All the new information that it presents is background and has little to do with the mission.
Furthermore, when trying to explain why the Air Force was so determined to rescue Hambleton, going as far as to organize a rescue mission on an unprecedented scale and persevering to save one man after losing nine, he provides the same unconvincing reason Whitcomb does: the Air Force men's unbreakable bond to one another, their conviction that nothing in Vietnam was worth an American life, and their desire to prove that they could do something brave and good, that they were not just "mercenaries," as some of them had been called back in America, where the anti-war sentiment was strong. These are all reasons why the airmen might have wanted to save Hambleton indeed, but they are not solid enough reasons for the men higher up the chain of command, for whom the navigator's life did not matter. During the Vietnam conflict, the Air Force had over 1,700 of its aircraft shot down, fifteen B-52s among them – not to mention the thousands of helicopters. I doubt that Hambleton was the only American airman to fall behind enemy lines. However, there were not any such massive rescue missions neither before not after BAT-21. This makes the author's claim that "Hambleton could have been some pogue lieutenant or a dumb-ass private who’d fallen out of a Jolly Green and they would still have gone out to save him" questionable.
SAVING BRAVO is rather weak for a non-fiction account. Talty's writing style is vivid, but the author seems to have been trying to reach a certain word count because his work is longer than it needs to be. This book is not an essential read, especially if one is already familiar with the rescue of BAT-21.