James's Reviews > Goshawk Squadron

The cover promises a wholesome boys own adventure. Derek Robinson, in this booker nominated novel, instead delivers one of the most brutal bromides against the stupidity of World War I, I have ever read. As a bonus it also contains an account of the most raucous night out, I have ever read. The murder, albeit accidental, of the restaurant owner is now the new benchmark by which a night out gone wrong will forever more be measured. Also no one in this book is called Ginger.