1107 Her Privates We, by Private 19022 (Frederic Manning) (read 21 Mar 1971) This book drips with authenticity, even though it is told as a fiction. I should say, rather, that it actually happened in the latter half of 1916 but the names are fictitious. Only a little of the book actually deals with front line life, but it all deals with Britons in France, and one feels the book tells how it really was: and gives one a little insight into how men thought and were able to endure. I thank God I was never put to the test of something like 1916 in France. This book is fantastic. Only one experiencing it could have written this book. ( )

The First World War in literature makes me think of Farewell to Arms and All Quiet on the Western Front. Manning's Her Privates We is perhaps less known, but deserves a place with those classics. The book tells the story of Bourne, a simple soldier fighting in France, apparently quite like the author did.

As this is an honest book, it's not much about fighting and a lot about what happens in between. The life behind the front is boring, though the alternatives aren't charming either. Bourne is an intelligent man, perhaps somewhat unlike his fellows, yet he fits in and doesn't really want the promotion they want to give to him. There's the futility of the war, and then there's the strong companionship between the men.

Manning paints a beautiful literary picture of a horrid thing. The crude language of the soldiers (at least in the non-bowdlerized editions), the vivid descriptions of mud and ruins, of all the uncomforts of military life, it is all described in detailed, beautiful prose. If you're looking for a good book about war, particularly the First World War, look no further. (Review based on the Finnish translation.)

(Original review at my review blog) ( )

Very good, a book that leaves an intense memory of atmosphere, place and the grimy, utterly unromantic business of war. Ideally to be read in conjunction with All Quiet on the Western Front: two sides of a conflict suffering precisely the same needless misery. ( )

Really a memoir in disguise, it's the clearest fiction of the war, and beautifully written. The orginal, published in the '20s (I think) was bowdlerized; this is a restoration. ( )

Also known as The Middle Parts of Fortune. If you remember reading All Quiet on the Western Front and thought that was good (which it is), then this is better. An absolute classic of anti-war WW1 fiction, written by a veteran, and it's a shame it's not better known. I had never heard of it until recently. This is the real McCoy right down to the truly dreadful language. When it was first published in 1928 it had to be quickly expurgated to avoid prosecution under obscenity laws. This is the unexpurgated version, and it's filthy. But that only makes it more real. ( )