A salute to the universal soldiers

Philip Ziegler writes so well that it might seem invidious to suggest that the first thing one should do on opening Soldiers is to study the illustrations. Yet figuratively as well as literally they are at the heart of this book: striking photo-portraits in full colour of the nine Chelsea pensioners whose stories it tells. The names may not be familiar but somehow their faces are. Surely these, or their fellows, with their scarlet coats, their tell-tale headgear, their battle-worn features, have been at every Remembrance Day ceremony we have ever seen, while clearly their forefathers were at Senlac, Agincourt, Waterloo, the Alma, the Somme.

For, as Ziegler argues in his eloquent prologue, these men, and the rich traditions of the Royal Hospital which houses them, "evoke everything that is most memorable about Britain's military and imperial past". Yet he is swift to acknowledge that they can also be seen as "a bunch of superannuated poseurs ... poncing around in fancy dress, trying to recapture lost glories that were spurious at the best of times and are entirely irrelevant today".

It is important that this should be said, for what he calls "the dichotomy apparent in those points of view" gives an edge to a book which under less stringent authorship might have degenerated into a soft celebration of chocolate-box heroes.

In fact, all these men have reached their present sanctuary after lifetimes of considerable rigour, during which they faithfully carried out the tasks the nation asked of them however difficult the circumstances and on numerous occasions hazarded their lives. Inset into the modern colour photographs are snaps of them when young, emphasising that they were as likely as any to join the long lists of (to use a phrase that would not have come happily to their lips) "the glorious dead". There but for the grace of God...

TE Lawrence once wrote that most war stories are unfair to the rank and file "who miss their share of credit, as they must do, until they can write the dispatches". The great virtue of this book is that with Ziegler's help, nine remarkable men who might otherwise have remained unchronicled, have written their dispatch and each has a gripping tale to tell. A surprising number came from deeply disadvantaged backgrounds, from over-large or fractured families where fathers, some traumatised by their own war service, spent their income on drink. Food was scarce, and prospects of good education and gainful employment were virtually nil. Often the armed forces seemed the only means of escape. The twist in the story is that enlistment gave them a family of a new kind, with comrades who, as one of their number put it, "if you needed help, were there at the drop of a hat"; whereas in civilian life you had "no real muckers you could depend on". All of them hold strong simple concepts of duty and discipline. Wherever they were sent they did what they were told to do without asking questions, still less criticising the judgment of their superiors. As it happened their period of service coincided with the inexorable decline of the British Empire. It made no difference; they soldiered on.

In recent years a new orthodoxy has arisen claiming that most fighting men see active warfare primarily as a chance to indulge their natural-born bloodlust. This would surprise the veterans portrayed in these pages. Ziegler is forthright in his views on this subject: "Soldiers are not hardened killers. Few of them enjoy talking about the bloodier aspects of their career, some close their minds to it altogether. If killing is necessary, if the nature of the job in hand demands it, then it must be done, but is a means to an end, not the end itself. It is the job that matters."

Only one pensioner featured served as an officer, but that was during wartime after more than a decade in the ranks; when he arrived at Chelsea he was soon "one of the boys". All these men spent much of their lives saluting others. It is good that thanks to this admirable book they are now being saluted in their turn.

Malcolm Brown's new expanded version of his Imperial War Museum Book of the Western Front is published by Pan Books.