Jake McNiece was the most cantankerous, insubordinate, incorrigible problem child in the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR); perhaps the entire 101st Airborne Division. He refused to comply with any form of military protocol or discipline. He spent more time in the stockade then running up the legendary Currahee. He would rather punch an officer in the mouth than salute him. But as the subtitle to his oral history memoir suggests, he led the "most legendary squad of combat paratroopers" during the Second World War.

Historian Richard Killblane recognized McNiece's penchant for fantastic storytelling. He conducted hundreds of hours of interviews with McNiece, and other key paratroopers that compiled the infamous "Filthy Thirteen," a squad of outcasts from the demolition saboteur platoon of Regimental Headquarters, 506th PIR. Killblane handles all the obstacles encountered by an oral historian admirably: corroborating the veteran's testimonies with official reports, arbitrating conflicting stories, and taking into account the pit falls of memory. Copious notes attest to Killblane's efforts, but off-setting a good portion of them in the text would have eliminated the need for the reader to constantly have to refer to endnotes at the back of the book. Some of the notes are obviously misplaced, making no sense at all, and for this organizational blunder gets a four-star rating.

About a third of the way through the book, I had had enough of McNiece's shenanigans. McNiece ran amuck, and did as he pleased regardless of consequences. Barracks brawls ran into drunken fights with Military Police (MPs). Stolen jeeps overlapped with a stolen train. Constant scrounging and stealing of food evolved into wanton killing of game on a sprawling English manor; the gutted bloody carcasses strewn carelessly about everywhere. McNiece lied through his teeth to officers and his First Sergeant, alike. I wanted Jake McNiece thrown into the stockade for the duration. Better yet, hope that he be transferred to the Service of Supply to collect garbage in Louisiana.

But the Army knew better. When McNiece jumped into Normandy in the early hours of June 6, the disregard for garrison life disappeared, and a tough, tobacco chewing, no-nonsense sergeant who cared deeply for his men emerged. The now familiar exploits of the 101st Airborne in Normandy and Holland are retold from the perspective of the Mohawk and war painted demolition saboteur platoon. As Jake professes, war is a nasty business and the survival instincts acquired range from the humorous to the squeamish. McNiece pulls no punches and doesn't sugarcoat the more gruesome aspects of combat.

After Holland, the "Filthy Thirteen" were disbanded. Jake believed he was being singled out as a trouble-maker and was reassigned to the pathfinders. Jake reasoned that the war would soon be over, and another jump would be unlikely. As a result, most of his comrades went to the pathfinders with him, a testament to the loyalty and admiration McNiece had earned from his men.

This leads to the most historically significant part of the book. Histories abound about the 101st Airborne's defense of beleaguered Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge. After a week of bad weather, the skies cleared and vital supplies of food and ammunition were dropped to the surrounded battle-weary paratroopers. What is not widely known, however, is the stick of pathfinders who parachuted outside Bastogne and laid beacons for the cargo planes to find their drop points. The official U.S. Army History devotes one sentence to this vital mission. McNiece led those pathfinders. A similar pathfinder jump at Prum, Germany in February 1945 made four combat jumps for McNiece, when a paratrooper was lucky to survive one.

In a closing chapter, Killblane eloquently sums up Jake McNiece, the most cantankerous, insubordinate, incorrigible problem child who was a proven combat leader. An anomaly to the silent greatest generation who never talked about the war, Jake loves to tell a story, and the Bastogne pathfinder jump surely needed to be told. This reviewer went from wanting to throw the book away, to developing a deep admiration and respect for Jake McNiece. This book is surely a different take on the standard paratrooper's histories of World War II, but one that cannot be ignored.