Ambush at Derati Wells (Soldier of Fortune #6)

Ambush At Derati Wells (Soldier of Fortune #6)
Peter McCurtin (Ralph Hayes)
1977

I got a few of the Soldier of Fortune novels for cheap recently, and while I prefer to start with the first, I went ahead and started Ambush at Derati Wells, the sixth in the series, as it sounded the most interesting at the time. I'm glad I did, because I wound up loving it; and, thankfully, they all seem to be self-contained adventures, so I didn't miss out any continuing arc or continuity. Narrated by mercenary Jim Rainey, and that's all I needed to know.

Thanks to Paperback Warrior for the author correction (actually Ralph Hayes and not McCurtin, as on my cover) and excellent review. Ambush is fast and lean, just like I like it. Seems like there was actually some decent research into some of the resident tribes and verbiage of the land Rainey is currently stationed at, which adds nicely to the setting instead of the typical 'mystical' Africa.

Essentially a treasure hunt in the drylands of Africa, with competing hunters and natives along the way. Rainey teams up with a local African lawyer, a big game hunter guide and two of his customers, and a small group of guides and inventory schleppers, a far cry from the group of M-16 totting red-beret soldiers on the cover.

One thing I really appreciated with the narrative is how matter-of-fact it is. While obviously not a realistic novel, it pulls no punches with the mercenary experience. Main characters are dispatched without batting an eye, Rainey aware of what they signed up for, without excessive ruminating on their passing. It's all part of who they are, and it's hardly described as glamorous. You've got the odd, almost forced into the novel sex scene in the middle of the African desert, yeah, but that only leads to an excuse for more savagery and revenge down the road, so I'll take it. Good stuff.

Zulu Blood (Soldier for Hire #1)

Zulu Blood (Soldier for Hire #1)
Robert Skimin
1981

At a cover glance, Zulu Blood looks like it has it all: a discontent hardass protagonist with the silver likeness of Lee Marvin; people getting shot on the cover; implications of mercenaries; and of course, all taking place presumably in Heart of Darkness Africa, with some sort of pulp Zulu influence. These things are indeed all present, but it was a read that quickly showed its true colors of being quite a slog. I've been coming quite acquainted with Zebra's paperbacks lately; or, more so the size of them. Most of what I own is all horror, and despite somewhat large-ish print, they're still quite the tome. No exception here for their action line, and it certainly reads that way.

Zulu Blood starts off strong with the entertainment, but maybe not in the intentional way. Our hero, JC Stonewall, instantly starts going off on insane page-length rants about America's involvement in the Vietnam War--and not in the generally universal "we shouldn't have been there" view, but more so how we fucked up and didn't do it right. Liberals and commies instantly become interchangeable to hilarious extents. He know his flaws and how his dad was a no good drunk, but goddammit, he was a good American. This sort of comical jingoism permeates the entire novel like classic WWII propaganda posters, which, while funny at first, can start to fluff out the text.

The story stars with JC taking on a job from a white plantation owner in Africa. Her daughter and zany father are missing and, naturally, she's a MILF, which JC takes full advantage of after his brash introduction charms her into submission. Dad and daughter left to join up with a crazy warlord, as they feel like his leadership is good for the area or something, leading JC to bring a few of the Milf's workers with him to infiltrate the camp undercover as a reporter.

The biggest problem with Zulu Blood is that there's not a whole lot of action in between the exposition and sex. When it does happen it's pretty violent, like when JC mows people in half with his Uzi, then unloads the clip into the corpse while screaming a rebel yell. I'd take that stuff all day, but it's fairly sparse. A large portion of the book is spent arguing politics, like complaining about women's liberation and 'Red' China. JC's old buddy, a black fellow, appears partway through the book, which JC jokingly calls racial epithets at every chance he can get -- since they're such good buds and all. It's all pretty absurd, and while I do love this sort of insane writing it really grates through, simply because there's just so goddamn much of it, at times reading like actual propaganda. And yeah, I could obviously bat an eye at this and chuckle, but there's simply not enough action to balance it out. There's sponge-baths and blowjobs and some ritual torture, but even the finale lacks a good action resolution at the end of this padded monster.

I won't throw in the towel just yet on Stonewall. Some of these other volumes by other writers sound a bit better, but I probably won't be going out of my way to find any anytime soon. The recent library sale held one volume of the series, but sadly it was just Zulu Blood again. We'll see what the future holds for Solder for Hire.