I have been a fan of Paul Harvey’s since I was gifted a copy of ‘The Mighty Bunyips’ around 2007. So it was with great anticipation that I read Harvey’s first foray into novel writing.
My anticipation was also heightened knowing its focus on the ‘American War’ in Vietnam, and as a peace activist I was very keen to see how this theme would be explored. And prior to reading, I was excited to learn from the author that his main character, Pup, was a Fitzroy supporter, which was another theme, also close to my heart, woven through the story.
It was a riveting read – I could barely put the book down. It moved from tragedy and fear to lighter scenes of joy and warmth, and as the reader, I was never really sure what might be around the corner.
The strength of friendships was a themes throughout the book. Characters were quintessentially Australian, replete with the obligatory nicknames, true to being an Australian tale, all with impressive back stories. Soldiers were described as using humour as a coping mechanism for the horrors of war - but not even humour can prevent a 20 something from stepping on a land mine and being torn to pieces meaning his family was torn apart, or the full force of a bullet or the smell of burnt human flesh.
The story started with Pup, as a five-year-old coming to terms with his veteran father’s untimely death, and the receipt of ‘the dreaded brown envelope’ because his numbers (3.3.53), numbers that had carried beauty into the world, but ultimately contributed to destruction, disfigurement and death. Pup’s war time service as a medic intertwines with the ‘larger-than-life’ figure of Lax, who seems to possess almost superhuman powers as he traverses death defying circumstances, and their friendship is one that endures and is life changing for them both.
The book poignantly described the hell of a war that saw young Australians ‘go forth and possibly die in a war that Australian politicians were gagging to be part of’ – to the exuberant joy of a young football team’s win, with a coached by a nun whose habit dragged through the mud all game; and scenes from a VFL game of the crowd in the outer hearing the clever, typically Aussie, banter of impassioned fans.
At times I found myself literally gasping for breath, as the horror of war for both soldier and civilian (‘the futility of going to someone else’s war’) was told in such a profound way that, as the reader, I felt transported to the jungles of Vietnam.
At other times the book was simply just so funny. At one point I was travelling and reading in the car and I was told to stop reading - not to stop laughing - as laughing was clearly the only possible response to the words on the page.
The story regularly moved from Vietnam to inner city Melbourne, and at times the transition was so seamless I was not sure if the hospital bed Pup was recuperating in was in Vietnam or Melbourne.
There was such empathy expressed through the pages of the book, with Pup’s sympathy for kids on both sides of the war who were caught up in the mess…’no winners in a political war’.
The end of the story was not what quite I had expected – and in its own way was harrowing and quite confronting. The book shows that life can be full of unexpected twists and turns, some delightful surprises, and others not at all pleasant; but it also reinforced that life can be full of shades of grey, especially for returned soldiers navigating life back home. For me it also reinforced that Australia should never get involved in senseless and unnecessary wars.
While being fiction, the book was clearly the result of extensive and thorough research, whether it was descriptions of the political build up to the ‘American War’ in Vietnam, the unspeakable impacts of war for those who returned (‘their war wasn’t over’), and those who didn’t, and the exquisite use of the vernacular of the time.
A gripping read.