France has fallen, the British army barely got out of Europe running from Hitler’s panzers, and now Britain stands alone. Only her brave lads in the Hawker Hurricanes stand between Hitler and global domination! …well, the guys in the Spitfires, too. Arrogant gits. To So Few is a novel of the Battle of Britain — or at least, it’s a novel of air combat in the summer of 1940: I never got the sense that the RAF was being hammered every day and coming frightening close to being used up; instead, combat is steady and they spend an unusual amount of time protecting convoys rather than their airfields. A young airman named Harry Rose is transferred to the front line, despite only having twelve hours of flight time in Hurricanes, but he knows what he’s doing and he’s anxious to prove his mettle. His father fought in the last one, and Harry wants to know he’s made of at least the same stuff as the old man. As the summer progresses, Harry and the other members of Exalibur squadron face death on the daily, meeting the German fighters and bombers in the air over Britain — and Harry falls in love with a young WAAF officer named Molly. As the name of his squadron hints, this is a rather romantic and sentimental story: Harry and Molly are especially earnest in talking about how wonderful the other is, and Harry — one of Excalibur’s flying knights — declares her to be his Lady after she bestows upon him a Favour. There’s an interesting mix of gritty real-world detail — the flash of light of canopies, the smell in the cockpit after firing, the maneuvers needed to keep a Hurricane from stalling in a dive — with very idealized descriptions of the noble crusade against the wretched Hun. It works to a degree because Harry is young, and his head is full of Boy’s Own type reading, but some readers may find it a bit florid. The growing relationship between Harry and Molly has that same stilted feeling: there’s literally more romance here than in romance books I’ve read, like The Littlest Library. It’s weirdly refreshing in a way — not innocent, per se, but sort of….mystiful. Harry’s in love, but he’s also in love with being in love, if that makes sense. I have a strong tolerance for sentiment and idealism when it comes to World War 2, especially the Battle of Britain, but even so it was thick to the point of syrupy at times, especially the “Oh Harry / “Oh, Molly” bits.) That said, this isn’t a ‘juvenile’ novel: most of the guys do a great deal of drinking, skirt-chasing, and swearing, and Harry only abstains from the drinking because his father died of liver poisoning. The combat portions , which are substantial, are much more cleanly written and far more enjoyable. Enjoyable on the whole, but I gave my permission to start skimming through the sicky-sweet romance stuff.

Highlights:

Don’t look at me with those trusting eyes, those eager, shining faces. If I have to, I will send you to your deaths, and you’ll not be the first, God help me. Because it’s what I may have to do. Will I have to write to your parents one day, too? I hope you’re able to learn what our hard-earned experience has taught us. If you can learn, maybe you’ll live. If you don’t, there’s no hope at all.  For you, or for any of us.  If I could give you more time, I would, but, God help me, I need you now. The enemy is coming.  There is no more time.

Jerry can appear out of what seems to be a clear, empty sky in just a few seconds. One second the mirror’s empty, and then, before you can say ‘bugger me with a broomstick,’ he’s there, and he’s trying to pump lead right up your arse. Not the best cure for constipation, believe me.

A coffin for the dead members of its crew, the Heinkel dived a further thousand feet before the fire burnt through the main spar. The wings folded, and the remnants of the bomber fell vertically down. A molten pyre dripping fiery blobs, spiralling into the sea.  Above it, the two survivors hung disconsolately beneath their canopies.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” they chorused together. They looked like a couple of schoolboys (but then, hadn’t they all?), and for a fleeting moment, he felt a wave of unhappiness wash over him.  Would they learn and survive, or…would they just become more faces and names to remember in those quiet, pensive moments when he was alone?