Military fiction written by veterans is an interesting genre. On the one hand, it frees the authors from the dryness of facts to make a more interesting and expressive story than their personal memories. On the other hand, it can leave you wondering what was left out, and what happened because it was true or merely because it made good literary sense. It's impossible to doubt General Simmons' credentials as a warrior and a historian. He was there, and his novel has the bronze gleam of truth. But truth alone does not make for a good war novel.

The basic literary flaw is the protagonist, Captain Bayard. He is a blank slate, overshadowed by the famous warriors around him-the Red Snapper, Sergeant Havac, even his platoon commanders. Command seems to be a reflex with him, as the company attacks or defends using the Quantico school solution, usually with a fair degree of effectiveness. He makes no human connections to the men in his unit, the lot of a company commander seems to be a lonely one. Flashbacks to his childhood in Ohio and early career in Washington DC are mere filler, despite romantic entanglements and class conflicts. And the descriptions of battle are adequate, but don't convey the desperation of conflict in the great retreat from Chosin.

The details in this book are absolutely spot on, but like a uniform on a mannikan, there's nothing beneath them. Meh.