So all is pretty cushy for our reluctant hero, ex-WWI ace pilot Bart Bandy.
Actually that should read pretty Khooshie, the name of the handsome young prince of Jhamjarh, whose life Bart recently saved. His reward from the grateful Maharajah is to set up an airforce for the independent state, while living high on the hog in his own personal palace.
But it’s 1925 and the British authorities are already highly suspicious about the purpose of this new force when Bart, as usual, falls foul of a most important personage, the Viceroy of India no less. Could end badly. Not nearly as badly as the intentions of the neighbouring Indian state of Khaliwar though, as Bart soon discovers – but absolutely no one seems inclined to believe him.
With the blackest of black comedy and seat-of-the pants escapades, Donald Jack’s series about a young pilot is uniquely funny and compelling.
With this volume, Canadian novelist Jack wraps up the humorous fictional memoirs of Bartholomew Bandy, whose madcap adventures cover the decade between 1916 and 1926. Here Bandy is off to India to establish an air force for the Maharajah of Jhamjarh, who fears invasion by a neighboring state. Bandy begins his latest career by drunkenly alienating the new British Viceroy of India, deporting himself in typically unconventional manner. ``In my time I've driven quite a few people to drink, distraction, or the Northwest Territories,'' he admits to his fiancee, lovely Icelander Sigridur Jonsdottir, M.D. Jack's deadpan British humor (``I don't like new experience. I don't like any kind of experience. I'm an academic,'' a scholar confesses to Bandy) will draw new fans to the blundering triumphs of this lovable rascal.