Whicker's War - Alan Whicker

Growing up in the early 80's I used to find myself watching 'Whicker's World' and was captivated by all the far-flung places that he went to every week, bringing Brazil, Hong Kong and various parts of Africa into a dreary Oxfordshire town house. When I got to the age to think about such things I could have sworn blind that this guy had a trace of the officer about him; a saturnine and almost condescending voice, perfect pronounciation, very 'stiff upper lip' mannerisms, a trace of humour and of course that bristling mustache.

Turns out that I was right.

Alan Whicker was enlisted into the infantry in 1939 and, adjudged perfect cannon fodder, was promptly shipped out to officer training in the depths of Wales - 164 OCTU at Barmouth to be exact. After surviving the regulation Coldstream Guards drill sergeant-from-Hell and the perils of the inter-company boxing tournament he was in his own words 'spat out rather ingloriously' at the other end as a fully fledged Second Lieutenant in the Devonshires. He was amongst the first to note that a regiment named 'The Bloody 11th' might not be the best place for a man who wished devoutly not to be interrupted by any flying metal...
Salvation came with an embarkation lunch in London with a Brigadier at the same table as he and his uncle. Said staff officer wondered if the young single pip officer might be able to direct sergeant cameramen in a warzone as part of the first AFPU section. Whicker signed up right away - on the principle that though it might be a more adventurous form of suicide it might prove somewhat more stylish than being sick in a troop transport.

Thus began the oddyssey of Whicker in Italy. Landings at Pachino, Salerno and Anzio soon followed as he and the rest of the Army slogged their way through all 660 days of the Italian Campaign until a triumphant end as a captain in Venice. Throughout the book Whicker is a thoroughly engaging travel companion, as is only to be expected; mixing tragedy with humour, anguish with laughter and fearful angst with downright hilarity. From the WW1 trench warfare around the Anzio beachead to the triumphal entry into Rome (which he took the first pictures of) to accepting the surrender of the whole of Milan's SS garrison this is a lively exploration of a unique country in a unique time, told with verve, panache and always a little half-smile.
It is the height of iony that for an eventual travel writer his first experience of air travel was lying flat on his back;

"Nowadays, of course, they charge you extra to fly like that."

7 out of 10