This book, set at an RAF squadron during the Second World War, would seem to be up my alley. I am partial to historical fiction and am especially partial to stories involving planes. And indeed, some of the stories were fun, and there were some chuckle-worthy moments. But the book is just that: a collection of stories, a series of events rather than a continuous narrative anchored by a single protagonist. Not having one person to follow consistently made it hard to pick up the book again after putting it down. I also found the chauvinism really annoying, especially after listening to the ATA Girl box set from Big Finish. After listening to and reading about stories of amazing women during the war, I am not about to spend 500-some pages with an obnoxious ass like Cattermole. ( )

Piece of Cake is a 1983 novel by Derek Robinson which follows a fictional Royal Air Force fighter squadron through the first year of World War II, and the Battle of Britain. It was later made into a television series.

Although a work of fiction, the novel purports to be as historically accurate as possible. Notable themes are the development of aerial warfare tactics, the Hawker Hurricane fighter, the British class system within its military, and the difficulty of training and integrating new pilots during wartime. The novel was controversial because it challenged the greatly inflated number of British claims of Luftwaffe aircraft destroyed during the Battle of Britain, and theorized that the air battle was "irrelevant" to the possibility of a Nazi invasion of Britain following the fall of France. Robinson defends his work by stating that the truth of "faults and deficiencies" only enhances admiration for the courage and resilience of RAF pilots.

Put simply, Piece of Cake is author Derek Robinson's attempt to deglamorize the Battle of Britain. This is evidenced even before you start reading the book: in Robinson's decision to have his characters fly the more prosaic, workmanlike Hurricanes rather than the dashing and elegant Spitfires. (Indeed, the most notable instance of a Spitfire in the book is as a perpetrator of friendly fire, helping to doom one of Hornet Squadron's pilots.) The author is clearly of the revisionist view that the RAF's efforts in the Battle were not all that important: what was crucial in saving Britain from invasion by German forces in 1940 was the might of the Royal Navy compared to the German navy, and the absence of any amphibious capability in the German army which might make Operation Sealion actionable (they were planning to use river barges in the Channel, for Christ's sake). I don't wish to bore people by waxing historical (one could write hundreds of pages on the various myths surrounding the Battle; indeed, many - including Robinson - have); suffice to say, the author's views are valid and worthy of discussion. The problem with the book is that it bangs this drum for over 700 pages. Robinson has stated in the past that it was his own research which convinced him of the above argument regarding the importance of the Royal Navy, and consequently he approaches the book with that uncompromising zeal which only the newly-converted possess.

Robinson says in his Author's Note at the end of the book that he had no intention to debunk the Battle or belittle the men of the RAF (pg. 716). However, this assertion flies in the face of what has developed over the previous seven hundred or so pages. There's nothing wrong with debunking the myths of the Battle. Aside from the characters' conversation with a war correspondent towards the end, which I thought was a bit too didactic, it is mostly successful in doing so. In a broader sense, he also deglamorizes aerial combat in general. Rather than the 'duelling knights of the sky' stereotype that is often pushed, Robinson correctly notes the horror and mental strain of air warfare. Pilots, including many we get to know over the course of the book, are burned alive in their cockpits. Others are drowned when their planes crash into the Channel and they can't get their canopies open. Others are jumped by 109s with cannons which sever limbs and smash bones to pulp. Combat usually lasts only about fifteen seconds; and even a split-second of loss of concentration during hours of patrolling can result in death. Robinson is at his best when evoking this strain and terror.

The problem is Robinson goes too far, and sets his crosshairs on the men who fought the Battle. Robinson's pilots are not the gallant Few that Churchill eulogised. That's fine. But in seeking to debunk this, he goes too far in the opposite direction. All the pilots of Robinson's fictional Hornet Squadron are rather dislikeable; Moggy, most of all, but he is only the worst of a rather bad bunch. The first few hundred pages, before the German blitzkrieg in France starts, seems dedicated to portraying these men as negatively as possible. Lying, cheating, snide, arrogant, you name it. Later on, one even shoots a dog: that old, worn-out trope a writer uses to show you how reprehensible a character is. Maybe some RAF pilots couldn't even begin to approach the lionised image of the Few, but an entire squadron of absolute bastards? Unlikely. Yes, Biggles isn't reality, but neither is The Dirty Dozen. These first few hundred pages can be a bit of a slog at times: the banter is not so much funny as juvenile, the plot rolls along but more than a tad clumsily. I'm not surprised when looking at reviews just how many people give up after a hundred or so pages. (Note: I hate the word 'banter', but I can't think of any other appropriate word at the moment.)

I was also surprised at how much comedy there was in the book (or rather, attempts at comedy). Some of it succeeds, particularly when the action really heats up: that idea of the British stiff-upper-lip in the face of danger is the one Battle of Britain trope that Robinson doesn't try to debunk. It works here because it is balanced by the combat; the horrific death of a major character, for example, does wonders to sober up the reader. However, in the early part of the book it doesn't really have the balance. Robinson seems to find everything a joke, like he is writing an inappropriate comedy sketch or has ambitions to be the next Joseph Heller, rather than writing a piece of impressive historical fiction. When a pilot is buried, the coffin slips and the pallbearers fall over. Okay. Then a dog pisses on the bugler's leg as he's trying to perform 'Last Post'. Sigh. Then they find out they buried him in the wrong grave. It does get a bit tiresome after a while, reading it. Later on in the book, a man is killed because he sits on his own bollocks and is trapped on a toilet seat just as, by rather contrived timing, an enemy air raid starts. These are not the only examples, only the most egregious. There's nothing wrong with a bit of comedy to lighten a story, and the black comedy which Robinson has his characters employ is often on the money (witness Moggy's banter with Steele-Stebbing later on in the book, for example). It's just a bit too much here.

Thankfully, the book really picks up when the Battle of France kicks off. The dialogue and the banter becomes sharper, and is balanced by bouts of aerial action which make a nice change from the preceding chapters. By the time the Battle of France is over and the Battle of Britain is about to begin, I was won over. The book's length and early difficulties prevent it from being a 5-star book, but it is a solid 4-star, and I will certainly look for more of Derek Robinson's work. In a way, Piece of Cake is a lot like the British experience in World War Two: start off badly, get worse, start to get your shit together, come back and emerge victorious.

Put simply, Piece of Cake is a fine example of historical fiction. Both entertaining and informative, it works as both a good story and as a contribution to historical debate. You begin to care for some of the characters - even the dislikeable ones, which is no mean feat. The story is engrossing and the combat thrilling. Those who finish reading Piece of Cake may also leave with a more open-minded outlook on the Battle of Britain, and this is no bad thing. As Robinson says in his Author's Note, one can't see history in comic-book terms (pg. 716): of good and evil, heroes and villains. However, whilst a willingness to question historical orthodoxy is great, don't let historical fiction be your sole source of knowledge. Personally, I would recommend Stephen Bungay's The Most Dangerous Enemy as a fantastically readable factual account of the Battle. Ultimately, whilst Piece of Cake has its faults, Derek Robinson has done a great service to both history and fiction: he has presented well-researched ideas on the Battle without compromising story-telling or thrills. That should be applauded, and prospective readers should give it a go. ( )

A brilliant expose of the manifold follies and rigidities of Fighter Command, which led to the defeat of the RAF in the Battle of Britain!

Oh, wait . . .

The mordant tone of this novel is a useful corrective to some of the more dewy-eyed hagiography about the Few. But it obscures the fact that while every military organization is screwed up to some degree, Britain's air defense system was brilliantly thought out and led from the top, while the Luftwaffe's screwups started from the top and permeated downward.

An entertaining read though -- but very dark and sardonic in tone.

one of best world war II stories I have read in a long time told from British point-of-view. Robinson manages to make a joke of everything and this makes entertaining reading. ( )