Having slowly become addicted to military history, I've particularly enjoyed the grunt's eye view of battle, or more accurately, hanging around and waiting to be killed. The Sorrow of War, snippets in Stalingrad from diaries and Band of Brothers. However, it always seemed that such social histories were written about others. Glamourous Americans fighting across Europe, Exotic Vietnamese in guerilla engagements. In comparison my knowledge of the poor old British Tommy, or Jock, was poor. Did we have a boring regulation war? Did any turn their hand to recording the realities and horrors. White's book is an answer, an emphatic yes. It is is a diary, not a considered retrospective, so it does just give surnames and his officer-eye view. But his descriptions of huddling the earth in a scrape are incredibly evocative. It brings it home the mud, the sweat and the wasteful blood spilt as brave men battled.