George MacDonald Fraser has written the stories of this regiment and its most infamous soldier, Private McAuslan, in three collections: The General Danced at Dawn, McAuslan in the Rough, and The Sheikh and the Dustbin.
Through the narration by platoon commander Dand McNeil, McAuslan comes alive as the dirtiest soldier in the world, "wan o' nature's blunders; he cannae help bein' horrible. It's a gift."
Yet McAuslan is one of the most loveable creatures in all of literature. He may be grungy, filthy, clumsy, and disreputable, but he tries to do his best. Through his many misadventures, McAuslan marches into the heart of the reader, right leg and right arm swinging in unison, of course.
McAuslan, outcast that he is, experiences some infamous moments in his career: court martial defendant, ghost-catcher, star-crossed lover, golf caddie, expert map reader, and champion of the regimental quiz game (!). His tales, and the tales of his comrades-in-arms, are poignant at times, hilarious at others. These tales are so memorable because they are based on true stories.
The reader basks in all things Scottish in the stories. The language of the soldiers is written in Scottish brogue, although Fraser says in his introduction, "Incidentally, most of this volume is, I hope, written in English." Don't fret - a glossary is provided. (Reading the glossary alone causes some serious belly laughs.
If you read only one book this year, read this one. And if you know any veterans, give them a copy. It's a volume that the reader will not soon forget.
There are a few excellent stories here: The Gordon Women is plotted with a skill worthy of Wodehouse, The Constipation of O'Brien shows McAuslan at his comic best, and Extraduction (not really a story, but one of the offerings here) is a touching remembrance of the battalion's colonel. On the other hand, Captain Errol relies in large part on a "surprise" ending which I was anticipating an entire page (in a thirty-one-page story) earlier than it was revealed. Ye Mind Jie Dee, Fletcher? is not about Fraser's outfit in northern Africa circa 1945, but, rather, Scotland's 1978 national soccer team. McAuslan narrates it in his usual dialect - for eight unbroken pages, and McAuslan isn't nearly as funny out of uniform.
Those who have enjoyed The General Danced at Dawn and McAuslan In the Rough (two of my very favorite collections of stories) will most probably find this worth the read, as I did. They may also find, as I did, that it suffers by comparison with the two earlier collections.