![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Biggles is sent to investigate the mysterious disappearance of planes flying over Africa and carrying political VIPs. Naturally, he decides that the best way to do this is to fly one himself while pretending a VIP is onboard, with a second plane in radio contact. Within short order, the entire crew is stranded in a jungle in Liberia with two competing groups, one hoping to set up an independent kingdom, and one a group of criminals including von Stalhein.
This was not a favorite of mine but it did have some good bits. Highlights as far as I was concerned:
Bertie gets a fever from infected cuts and has to be hauled around the jungle.
Biggles is absolutely exhausted and going on willpower alone for most of the book.
Biggles spots a sentry who's carelessly left his rifle leaning against a wire fence. In a "whimsical moment" he steals and then ditches it, thinking that'll teach him to be more alert. Later he sees other soldiers giving the sentry an extremely hard time and feels both justified and guilty.
Biggles rescues a wounded enemy and is pretty sympathetic to him in a "I warned you this was a bad idea" way.
Von Stalhein not only does not kill Biggles when he easily could have but suggests that they team up. Just temporarily and for his own convenience, you understand. He also actively saves Biggles' life, supposedly for his own material benefit but come on.
Lots of great animal action, including monkeys, hyenas, and lions.
However. It's a hard call but I would say that this book is even more racist than Biggles in Borneo and Biggles Flies South, my previous contenders for the title. Like those, it has some of the apparently standard bits of Johns cognitive dissonance where he sometimes gets anti-racist ideas and then fails to draw larger conclusions from them. In this book, Ginger sees a man carrying a spear through the jungle, thinks "savage tribesman," then corrects himself with the realization that there's a lot of dangerous wildlife about, any sensible person of any race would carry a weapon, and a spear is a completely reasonable weapon. Unfortunately the entire rest of the book is staggeringly racist.
So, since I don't recommend it on that basis, I have excerpted my favorite part to share. Click to enjoy Biggles swearing at a rhino.
[Ginger is in the jungle and has cleared a landing strip for Algy and Bertie's plane.]
Ginger was soon in touch with the machine, telling Bertie where he was and about the sticks he had put out to mark the bad spots. There was a good straight run between them, but this was really the only safe place.
Even as he said this he saw, to his fury and consternation, a rhinoceros walking slowly towards the very spot he had just described. Reaching the middle of the runway, almost as if it knew what it was doing, it stopped and started grazing.
Ginger raged. The beast would have to choose that particular spot at that particular moment, he told himself seriously he had no fear of algae not seeing a creature of such size, but while it was there he certainly wouldn't be able to land. To make matters more difficult the beast occasionally moved its position a trifle, so there was no knowing where it would be by the time algae made his approach, should he try to get in. Aside from that, knowing the unpredictable nature of such animals, Ginger knew it was just as likely to charge the aircraft is run away from it.
The rhino was the best part of 100 yards from where he was standing with his back to the bushes, and short of exposing himself to death should the beast charge – as it well might if he molested it – he could think of only one possible way of moving it. As a weapon his pistol was of course quite useless against the armor plated monster. He would have about as much chance of stopping at, should it come for him as he would've putting a tank out of action. But he might alarm at, he thought, in which case it would move off. At the distance it was standing it was unlikely to see him, for the rhino is notoriously shortsighted.
Raising his pistol he took careful aim and fired.
At the crack of the shot, although Ginger knew he hadn't hit it, the beast sprang around to face each point of the compass in quick succession, seeking the cause of the noise. Then, to his annoyance, it calmly resumed its grazing. Again ginger fired. Again he missed. Again the great beast spun round. Again, apparently satisfied that the shot was not directed at it, the creature continued its meal.
Ginger became really annoyed, for the Halifax was now circling, waiting for the rhino to move off or for Ginger to do something about it. What Ginger did was fired two shots in quick succession at the same time letting out a yell. The second shot found its mark, for he distinctly heard the smack of the bullet. It may have stung. At all events, the result surpassed all expectations.
The rhino snorted, squealed with rage, and then set off at such a gallop that Ginger would not have thought possible. At first it traveled at such an angle that would listen by a comfortable margin; but then it must have wounded him, or seen the bushes, and as there was nothing else to charge made for them like a runaway locomotive.
Ginger stood still. It was all he could do. Had there been a tree handy he would have swarmed up it, but there wasn't one within a mile. Wherefore, stiff with fright, he could only stand his ground, hoping the beast, which had its head down, wouldn't see him. Apparently it didn't, for passing about 10 yards away it went through the bushes like a bulldozer in a cloud of flying twigs, quads and dust. It didn't stop, and to Ginger's unspeakable relief he heard its hooves receding into the distance.
By the time he was able to breathe again the Halifax was on the ground, trundling towards him. On legs the felt curiously week he walked out to meet it.
Bertie jumped down. He was laughing. "By Jove, old boy, you certainly put the breeze up that big boy who was standing on the runway."
Ginger considered him mercilessly. "I put the breeze up him! What you mean is, he put the guest up me. It wasn't in the least funny," he added coldly. "Nor is strolling about this open air menagerie armed with a popgun."
[Toward the end of the book, Biggles is alone and back at the same improvised runway, waiting for a plane to land.]
Biggles was about to walk into the open to signal his position when a bulky object rather more solid than a bush, a little further along the fringe of the scrub, attracted his attention. He hadn't noticed it before. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, and staring, saw that it was a rhinoceros. It was standing quite still, gazing out across the plane, at a distance of not more than a dozen yards. He realized that it must have been close all the time, and perhaps explain the movement he had heard when he had shot at the hyena.
Now Biggles was not given to swearing, holding it to be a waste of both time and breath; but he mentally called the beast some names that were perhaps not quite fair, since the animal was on its own ground and he was the intruder. It was, he did not doubt, the same rhino that had given ginger of fright near the same spot. He daren't move. The creature stood like a rock, it's little piggy eyes staring straight in front of it, obviously listening to the unfamiliar sound coming from the air. Fortunately there was not even a suspicion of a breeze or the beast must have winged it him.
The two aircraft came into sight, losing height, the Auster now leading, presumably to show the large machine the way in. They came round, touched down, and ran to a stop about sixty yards away from where Biggles stood. The engines died. From the cockpit of the Auster jumped Algy. Out of Hastings got Tony Wragg.
Algy and Tony looked around, talking; then, apparently satisfied that there was no one there, retired to the shade provided by the big machine obviously intending to wait. Biggles fumed – but he stood still with the rhino so close. He simply dare not move. Indeed he dare hardly breathe. And so three or four minutes passed. To Biggles it seemed a good deal longer.
At the finish it was the tech bird that gave him away, one of the feathered friends of the rhino in that they not only eat the insects on his back but service centuries. The bird arrived, and was in the act of settling on the beast's broad back when it saw Biggles; or so it can be supposed, for it let out a startled squawked and flapped into the air. The rhino needed no second warning. With a snort it turned about and plunged into the bushes. Biggles's relief need not be described. He walked, or rather, staggered, towards the aircraft.
This was not a favorite of mine but it did have some good bits. Highlights as far as I was concerned:
Bertie gets a fever from infected cuts and has to be hauled around the jungle.
Biggles is absolutely exhausted and going on willpower alone for most of the book.
Biggles spots a sentry who's carelessly left his rifle leaning against a wire fence. In a "whimsical moment" he steals and then ditches it, thinking that'll teach him to be more alert. Later he sees other soldiers giving the sentry an extremely hard time and feels both justified and guilty.
Biggles rescues a wounded enemy and is pretty sympathetic to him in a "I warned you this was a bad idea" way.
Von Stalhein not only does not kill Biggles when he easily could have but suggests that they team up. Just temporarily and for his own convenience, you understand. He also actively saves Biggles' life, supposedly for his own material benefit but come on.
Lots of great animal action, including monkeys, hyenas, and lions.
However. It's a hard call but I would say that this book is even more racist than Biggles in Borneo and Biggles Flies South, my previous contenders for the title. Like those, it has some of the apparently standard bits of Johns cognitive dissonance where he sometimes gets anti-racist ideas and then fails to draw larger conclusions from them. In this book, Ginger sees a man carrying a spear through the jungle, thinks "savage tribesman," then corrects himself with the realization that there's a lot of dangerous wildlife about, any sensible person of any race would carry a weapon, and a spear is a completely reasonable weapon. Unfortunately the entire rest of the book is staggeringly racist.
So, since I don't recommend it on that basis, I have excerpted my favorite part to share. Click to enjoy Biggles swearing at a rhino.
[Ginger is in the jungle and has cleared a landing strip for Algy and Bertie's plane.]
Ginger was soon in touch with the machine, telling Bertie where he was and about the sticks he had put out to mark the bad spots. There was a good straight run between them, but this was really the only safe place.
Even as he said this he saw, to his fury and consternation, a rhinoceros walking slowly towards the very spot he had just described. Reaching the middle of the runway, almost as if it knew what it was doing, it stopped and started grazing.
Ginger raged. The beast would have to choose that particular spot at that particular moment, he told himself seriously he had no fear of algae not seeing a creature of such size, but while it was there he certainly wouldn't be able to land. To make matters more difficult the beast occasionally moved its position a trifle, so there was no knowing where it would be by the time algae made his approach, should he try to get in. Aside from that, knowing the unpredictable nature of such animals, Ginger knew it was just as likely to charge the aircraft is run away from it.
The rhino was the best part of 100 yards from where he was standing with his back to the bushes, and short of exposing himself to death should the beast charge – as it well might if he molested it – he could think of only one possible way of moving it. As a weapon his pistol was of course quite useless against the armor plated monster. He would have about as much chance of stopping at, should it come for him as he would've putting a tank out of action. But he might alarm at, he thought, in which case it would move off. At the distance it was standing it was unlikely to see him, for the rhino is notoriously shortsighted.
Raising his pistol he took careful aim and fired.
At the crack of the shot, although Ginger knew he hadn't hit it, the beast sprang around to face each point of the compass in quick succession, seeking the cause of the noise. Then, to his annoyance, it calmly resumed its grazing. Again ginger fired. Again he missed. Again the great beast spun round. Again, apparently satisfied that the shot was not directed at it, the creature continued its meal.
Ginger became really annoyed, for the Halifax was now circling, waiting for the rhino to move off or for Ginger to do something about it. What Ginger did was fired two shots in quick succession at the same time letting out a yell. The second shot found its mark, for he distinctly heard the smack of the bullet. It may have stung. At all events, the result surpassed all expectations.
The rhino snorted, squealed with rage, and then set off at such a gallop that Ginger would not have thought possible. At first it traveled at such an angle that would listen by a comfortable margin; but then it must have wounded him, or seen the bushes, and as there was nothing else to charge made for them like a runaway locomotive.
Ginger stood still. It was all he could do. Had there been a tree handy he would have swarmed up it, but there wasn't one within a mile. Wherefore, stiff with fright, he could only stand his ground, hoping the beast, which had its head down, wouldn't see him. Apparently it didn't, for passing about 10 yards away it went through the bushes like a bulldozer in a cloud of flying twigs, quads and dust. It didn't stop, and to Ginger's unspeakable relief he heard its hooves receding into the distance.
By the time he was able to breathe again the Halifax was on the ground, trundling towards him. On legs the felt curiously week he walked out to meet it.
Bertie jumped down. He was laughing. "By Jove, old boy, you certainly put the breeze up that big boy who was standing on the runway."
Ginger considered him mercilessly. "I put the breeze up him! What you mean is, he put the guest up me. It wasn't in the least funny," he added coldly. "Nor is strolling about this open air menagerie armed with a popgun."
[Toward the end of the book, Biggles is alone and back at the same improvised runway, waiting for a plane to land.]
Biggles was about to walk into the open to signal his position when a bulky object rather more solid than a bush, a little further along the fringe of the scrub, attracted his attention. He hadn't noticed it before. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, and staring, saw that it was a rhinoceros. It was standing quite still, gazing out across the plane, at a distance of not more than a dozen yards. He realized that it must have been close all the time, and perhaps explain the movement he had heard when he had shot at the hyena.
Now Biggles was not given to swearing, holding it to be a waste of both time and breath; but he mentally called the beast some names that were perhaps not quite fair, since the animal was on its own ground and he was the intruder. It was, he did not doubt, the same rhino that had given ginger of fright near the same spot. He daren't move. The creature stood like a rock, it's little piggy eyes staring straight in front of it, obviously listening to the unfamiliar sound coming from the air. Fortunately there was not even a suspicion of a breeze or the beast must have winged it him.
The two aircraft came into sight, losing height, the Auster now leading, presumably to show the large machine the way in. They came round, touched down, and ran to a stop about sixty yards away from where Biggles stood. The engines died. From the cockpit of the Auster jumped Algy. Out of Hastings got Tony Wragg.
Algy and Tony looked around, talking; then, apparently satisfied that there was no one there, retired to the shade provided by the big machine obviously intending to wait. Biggles fumed – but he stood still with the rhino so close. He simply dare not move. Indeed he dare hardly breathe. And so three or four minutes passed. To Biggles it seemed a good deal longer.
At the finish it was the tech bird that gave him away, one of the feathered friends of the rhino in that they not only eat the insects on his back but service centuries. The bird arrived, and was in the act of settling on the beast's broad back when it saw Biggles; or so it can be supposed, for it let out a startled squawked and flapped into the air. The rhino needed no second warning. With a snort it turned about and plunged into the bushes. Biggles's relief need not be described. He walked, or rather, staggered, towards the aircraft.
From:
no subject
And all the EvS stuff is just... EvS is really all over the place in this book, it’s like he’s trying to repeat Foreign Legionnaire but with him in the role of rescuer and victor this time, and he doesn’t understand why Biggles won’t play. And there’s the whole thing where he’s doing his best to save Biggles, but doesn’t hesitate for a second before shooting his handler in the back. Oh, and the bit where he dares Biggles to shoot him and then turns his back on Biggles holding a gun on him. It makes sense that the only place their relationship could go after this is Hatchet.
From:
no subject
And I really love that EvS has apparently learned something since Foreign Legionnaire where he reacts as if Biggles might shoot him, but by this point he just lets Biggles keep the gun (and tells nobody about it!) confident it wouldn't be used against him!
Their clandestine meetings at night to negotiate how both of them can escape out of this mess give me joy!
From:
no subject
But at the same time, EvS is so morally far gone by this point that he genuinely doesn't seem to realize that Biggles never could have said yes given what he's mixed up in. Not to mention some of the more flat-out evil stuff he does (I think there are only a couple of other books, aside from the WWII ones, in which he's as brutally, heartlessly ruthless as he is here).
From:
no subject
I also think it makes entirely too much sense for EvS to be more brutal to compensate for what is obviously a turmoil inside his own heart (since Hatchet eventually follows). He's wildly oscillating between extremes.
I absolutely agree that he realized he could team up with Biggles and he is quite persistent because even when Biggles clearly says no way, EvS just leaves him (with a gun!) to think it over some more because the idea of killing Biggles is just not even in his head anymore.
(And then, tragically, Biggles concludes that it was only for mercenary reasons and nothing to do with working together at all! I don't think he's right about that, though - at least not entirely.)
Agreed. I think Biggles underestimates him here (though not without a good reason)
Erich manages to find random muscle men to bring back to shoot everyone but the only pilot who will suit him to fly out of the mess they're in is Biggles! Erich absolutely wants the both of them to get out of there alive.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Also another one of theirs that I really enjoyed is Biggles - Foreign Legionnaire!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
I loved this.
I also loved how utterly sure von Stalhein is that Biggles won't shoot him. He knows Biggles has a gun, tells nobody about it, and keeps giving Biggles chances to work together despite Biggles' refusals. In fact this is their second rendezvous and EvS leaves setting a third!
This was such a neat little moment. Especially since back in Foreign Legionnaire, von Stalhein reacts instinctively as if Biggles might shoot him. But he's figured out some things since then!
And this bit was a little heartbreaking:
Biggles thinking himself foolish because he hoped that von Stalhein saved his life because he likes Biggles enough to keep him alive or anything of the sort -- only to come crashing down to earth when EvS simply wants to use him.
Still von Stalhein has graduated to saving Biggles' life in this book which was lovely to see.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
This bit gave me SUCH FEELS omg. ♥
The meaningful glance alone. He knows Bertie's got a bit of a confidence problem about pulling his weight and Biggles won't have any of that!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
(I feel that some of the books, like Biggles in Australia, include a more aggressive type of racism - possibly also related to the ratio of racism in description vs dialogue.)