When all the chips are down, and it looks like the sun is about to set on old Blighty for good, there's only one team to call to keep Britannia ruling the waves: the Rifle Brigade! Acclaimed writer Garth Ennis unleashes his formidable command of both military history and violent absurdity to bring to life the most daring and insane band of commandos ever to hoist a Union Jack.
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Ennis and Ezquerra's parody of jingoistic-Brit military adventures is just the thing MAD's gang of idiots knew they'd never get away with, and older AD devotees devoutly wish they had. The Rifle Brigade is six invincible (though not inerrant) World War II commandos: hard, handsome Captain Hugo Darcy; Second Lieutenant Cecil Milk, bit of a poofter but a superb marksman and pilot; Sergeant Crumb, largest man in the British army and expert neck wringer; cockney Corporal Geezer, charged with 413 counts of murder as a civilian; Hank the Yank, explosives specialist who jumped the pond to enlist in 1940; and the Piper, a Scotsman. Darcy and Milk engage in real dialogue; Crumb is disyllabic ("Ey-oop!"); Hank, trisyllabic ("Gawd dammit!"); and Geezer, quintisyllablic ("Yer aht of ordah!"). The Piper pipes, fatally to hearers (not including his mates), and can sing. Their encounters with various Nazi swine and collaborators are full of derring-do, sexual innuendo (seldom subtle), and much ado every time "mortally" wounded Milk implores Darcy to grant his dying wish for, uh, intimacy. Outrageous, scabrous, adults-only silliness. Ray Olson
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