Fun action, doesn't sweep the consequences on civilians or the soldiers themselves under the rug though it remains fairly light in tone overall. It's a compilation of novellas & short stories, the one I loved best has a slave/servant from some backward neo-medieval s***-hole going all cloak & dagger and getting epic revenge on his 'employers'. ( )

I have an odd complaint about this book. It had too much action. Yep, I said it. I'd heard about Hammer's Slammers for some time and wanted to pick a book in the series up and read it, so I chose this one, which is I think the first one. And it started rather excitingly. But as it turned out, it's all just shooting. Just page and page of shooting. And page after page of people being blown up. There's literally no plot. None. It's just non-stop violence for the sake of violence. So I gave up at page 98 and said enough. I'm done. No more. Now I doubt if I'll pick up another book by this author. I think he's extremely limited. Not recommended. ( )

One novella-length and several shorter stories featuring the mercenaries of Hammers Slammers and their tanks. Any glory here has the L shot out of it in short order. War is nasty, brutal, and often involves truncated bodies. Drake pulls no punches, but he certainly spins a readable tale. ( )

The principal characters in David Drake’s The Tank Lords drive hovercraft-tanks that weigh 170 metric tons, travel nearly 100 kilometers per hour, and mount guns whose cyan-colored plasma bolts can vaporize a small building (or a lesser tank) with a single shot. That the people, not the tanks, are the most interesting part of the book is a testament to Drake’s skill as a writer of military fiction.

The people in question are members of “Hammer’s Slammers,” a mercenary regiment that – in a lightly sketched future where humans have spread among the stars – is hired by governments seeking a decisive advantage in their local armed conflicts. Virtually every story in the long-running series (this volume collects a novel, two novellas, and two short stories) takes place in a different war on a different world, but Drake leaves the political, strategic, and geographic details mostly to the reader’s imagination. The tactical details of individual battles are carefully described, and reflect both Drake’s own wartime experiences in Vietnam and his thorough working-out of how his imaginary technologies might affect the battlefield. In the end, though, the stories always focus squarely on the individual soldiers.

Rolling Hot, the longest and by far the best story in the book, is an apt example. It is, at first glance, a classic story of military heroics: The tale of a small, under-strength, ill-prepared unit of soldiers sent on a strategically vital mission because there is no one else available for the job. Chapter by chapter, however, it gradually resolves into a series of intertwined character studies, as Drake follows a handful of soldiers – the physically and emotionally exhausted captain in command; the overweight, long-serving maintenance sergeant; the local-army veteran turned skeptical war correspondent; and others – through the mission and explores how it changes them. Each of the principal characters is familiar (as a type) from other war stories, but Drake succeeds in bringing each to life as an individual, and leaving the reader deeply invested in their fate.

The final scene of Rolling Hot underscores the fact that it is not a story about a battle, or about war in general, but about people whose business is war. It – and the other stories in The Tank Lords -- are, under all their futuristic technology and gripping battle scenes, exceptionally thoughtful explorations of what it means to be a professional soldier. ( )

Disturbing: The only reason I don't give it 5 is because it is a reprint in a different format, with all stories previously published.

Spoiler alert for the main story.

That said, Rolling Hot, the prime story, is one you simply must read if you want to grasp the military mindset. It ranks up with Heinlein's Starship Troopers (the novel, not the stupid movie with the same title) and Haldeman's The Forever War.

Drake always manages to impart wisdom under the horrific gore. It's actually incredibly subtle in its own perverse way. Drake loads on the blood as a cautionary tale. He served with the 11th Armored Cavalry in Vietnam, and it still shows in his writing and occasionally in his talk. This isn't gore to titillate, this is gore to revolt, just in case you start to develop the theory that violence is a neat thing. It's harsh enough it will probably override years of stupid shootemup computer games in the current generation. Yes, it's THAT grisly.

But the characters are where the story is. Along with a decrepit, burned out, wrung out bunch of leftovers from previous engagements, a civilian reporter rides along. His goal was to investigate the "Waste" of money on the mercenaries that could be spent on additional indigenous forces. All he sees at the beginning is the rough, crude exterior of the unit.

On post during an attack, he winds up dragging along during a hell for leather chase across the continent, a desperate attempt to relieve the capital with the only troops available--the Slammers' sick list. It's that or be left as fodder, and the enemy doesn't care that he's a "noncombatant." Violating the non-interference concept reporters try to embrace, he mans a gun and offers his best military skill--shooting a grenade launcher as he learned as a reservist years past. "That's it, Turtle! you flush 'em, we'll shoot 'em!" one of his squad mates advises through a burst of fire. Even more than the Slammers, this is the last place he wants to be, and there's simply no choice.

At the end of a brutal, casualty-ridden drive across a hostile wasteland of enemy action, bad roads, "friendly" fire and inadequate supplies, he has the answer to his question. Why spend money on professionals? Because they're the only ones who can accomplish the impossible. As Montesquieu said, "A rational army WOULD run away."

That's when the story took a twist. Upon relieving the town, the mercs are shunned and ridiculed for their "disgusting and unprofessional" appearance by the alleged professionals of the local army and government. Our reporter reacts with righteous indignation and murderous rage that troops brave enough and dedicated enough to pull off the impossible are regarded as trash by pretty boys with no trigger time...

...and is stopped by one of the gunners, who tells him, "It don't mean nothin'."

I was appalled by the ending. I was outraged. It seemed to not be an ending in any fashion. It was six months later, during a discussion where I was trying uselessly to explain the concept of military duty to a civilian who simply CANNOT understand what it means. Some can, some can't. Those who can't never will. That's when I understood. "It don't mean nothin'."

Nineteen years of service. A few hours to read. Six months for it to make sense. And a story I will never forget.

And sadly, most civilians will never get it. That's not an insult, it's a cultural observation.

Bravo, Dave.