Book Review - The Secret Lives of Lawrence of Arabia by Phillip Knightley and Colin Simpson

 The Secret Lives of Lawrence of Arabia by Phillip Knightley and Colin Simpson

London: A Panther Book, 1971   (First published 1969)

This is a solid work of journalism, in which Knightley and Simpson investigate the life of T.E. Lawrence using information that had recently come to life, from de-classified documents and testimony of friends and those who worked with him both in Arabia, and in England after the War.

What do we learn about this most enigmatic hero? Firstly, that he was not necessarily the idealistic seeker for Arab freedom that he portrayed in his writings. He was a soldier of the King, and used his undoubted charisma and intelligence to inveigle the Arab Revolt to work for the Entente war effort, all the while knowing that it was extremely unlikely that any Arabs would have self-determination in their or his lifetime.

Secondly, that despite his desire to return to the anonymity of the ranks after the end of Versailles, he could not help but to get involved in policy, particularly the development of the RAF. He was always scheming, plotting and writing letters to the head of the Force (Trenchard), MPs, or even the likes of Lady Astor. While sometimes his meddling was not welcome, others of his ideas continue today; he basically invented the idea of air sea rescue, and designed many of the early rescue launches of the RAF.

Thirdly - and perhaps today less shocking to the reader than it was when this book was written - was that Lawrence suffered depressive illness throughout his life, and the guilt he felt over his actions led him to engage in masochistic acts, both when he was in Arabia, by pushing himself beyond endurance, and back in England, where he degraded himself by serving in the ranks, and by having people beat him with a birch. The torturous stories he invented to justify his birching, especially those given to John Bruce, show a man at the end of his tether.

It was the Arab revolt that in many ways destroyed Lawrence, even as it was the making of him as a public figure. Not only the warfare in the desert, but the (to Lawrence) shamefulness of his lying to Faisal and Hussein and the act of writing Seven Pillars of Wisdom all took a heavy toll on his psyche. He had plans for other literary works, but his death only ten weeks after being discharged from the RAF put paid to that.

Knightley and Simpson also attempt to clear up the identity of S.A., to whom Seven Pillars of Wisdom is dedicated. They fairly convincingly conclude that it was Lawrence's friend Salim Ahmed, who was known as Dahoum. What they failed to get to the bottom of was Lawrence's sexuality; it seems he was sexless. There are also questions about his infamous night in Deraa, or at least the version of it as portrayed in his writings, with which some of the known facts conflict. It seems, from investigation, that Hacim Muhittin Bey was aggressively heterosexual, and would seem an unlikely instigator of buggery. Given the conflicting accounts, I do wonder whether Lawrence couldn't bring himself to write that he was raped by mere rankers, and had to inflate his attacker's status to that of Governor.

Overall then, this book is a good counter-factual to the story that Lawrence would have liked us to believe was true. In no way does it diminish his status as a hero of World War One, but it does bring us the complete man much more than we see in his own writings. If you can hunt out this book, and you are interested in Lawrence of Arabia, then it's well worth reading.

Cheers for now, from

A View Over the Bell

Book Review - The Big Show by Pierre Clostermann

The Big Show by Pierre Clostermann

London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2004  (Original English ed. Chatto & Windus, 1951)

ISBN 0297846191

Like most boys my age growing up in the 1970s, I was fascinated by both aeroplanes and war, and thus spent many not-so-profitable hours building and painting Airfix kits, one of which depicted a Hawker Tempest. This particular kit had decals depicting "Le Grand Charles", the personal plane of Pierre Clostermann. My father, when he saw the completed kit, steered me to his copy of The Big Show, which I read again and again during my adolescence.

Well I'm grown up now, and interestingly so has this book, with the publication of an expanded edition, that not only includes sections left out of the edition published in 1951 (owing to sensitivities and paper shortages of the time), but also adds information newly discovered to fill out the narrative.

This book has become a classic of it's type, and deservedly so. Based on Clostermann's diary entries from the time, the reader follows his career through advanced training on Spitfires, through to his first posting to the "Alsace" squadron of Free French within the RAF, flying from the famed Biggin Hill airfield. He then moves to 602 City of Glasgow Squadron, defending Scapa Flow before moving south to fly sweeps over the Channel until the emotional moment when Clostermann lands again in France just after D-Day. After a period of rest out of the air, he gets back in a 'plane - a Tempest this time - and survives to the end.

There is plenty of fine description of dog-fights and other flying adventures, and of all sorts of other japery that comes from blowing off steam when under threat of death every day. The strength of The Big Show however is not in these descriptions, but in the way Clostermann communicates how it felt to be in these situations. From the fear that took over his body when a Focke Wulf was on his tail or he blundered over an enemy airfield that was "lousy with flak", to the elation of surviving, the despair at the death of comrades, and the unspoken bonds of loyalty to your friends, Clostermann takes the reader into the heart of the experience.

What has in the past and still today remains interesting for me as reader is how, as victory for the Allies looms closer, the more depressing the "story" becomes. In the early pages, where Clostermann and his good friend Jacques Remlinger fly their first Spitfires, through to their first active missions, there is a joi de vivre that shines through: young men fighting for their country, determined to do their best and enjoying flying the latest technology that Britain could provide.

This contrasts with the last section of the book, where at the front Clostermann and his pilots suffer poor morale as they lose more and more men, and as they struggle with their aircraft against ever-increasing flak and the excellent German pilots. The never-ending round of missions - often four to five a day - wear the pilots out. When the end comes, there is relief rather than joy: in fact Clostermann and his pilots resent the revellers enjoying the victory.

I must have read this book about twenty times over the years; this new expanded edition adds usefully to the first, and ensures that this classic will remain so for some considerable time to come. If you are at all interested in this subject, this is a must-read.

Cheers for now, from
A View Over the Bell