How we worked out our identities. - Rated 
This is somewhat of an apologia for the whole area of male interest in war, toy soldiers, wargames, you name it. The author seems to be addressing this in his own life, objectively, self-deprecatingly, somewhat sardonically, and hilariously. He genially adumbrates the characteristics of the adult miniature militarist, but how can he stop himself, and why should he? As Pearsons friend remarks, what harm are they doing anybody else? What indeed. A serious point is the centrality of games playing in personal and social development, right up to the use of wargames and scenarios at the highest political and military levels throughout modern history. Bismarck, for instance, played chess with all the monarchs of Europe, to gain psychological insights as a tool for future diplomatic dealings, a striking illustration of his cunning. It is part of what we became as adults, that phase when our childhoods coincided with the reinvention of World War Two. It is amazing, in retrospect, to realise the unconscious roles into which we slipped in our games. A boy would always be assigned the same role, with very little question, either as British (seldom American) soldiers, or German and Japanese (and never Italian). When a certain kid was playing with us the action always took place in the Pacific theatre, because, with his buck teeth and round NHS specs, he was the inscrutable Japanese officer ("Ah, so, honourable flend of Nippon" etc), a niche he perfected and made his own, becoming part of his persona. In such ways did we negotiate our group relationships. If, however, unlike me, you have grown out of that sort of thing, I think you will find Part 1 of the book by far the most entertaining, with the joy of half-remembered familiarity. The rest is more the province of we traduced in the eyes of society!
Boys own memories - Rated 
If you have had an action man,coveted a johnny seven,really wanted the airfix foreign legion rather than the wagon train or farm set you'll know what this is all about-gets a bit deep when the fanatic wargaming bits come into play but hey this is plastic fun and memories of childhood all the way
Local Lad Makes Good - Rated
I lived in the same town as the author and I suspect went to the same school, but probably a decade earlier. He very cleverly handles the era after the war when our heroes were RAF pilots and Dan Dare was an RAF pilot. That said I suspect he's a bit younger than he writes (the wee scamp). Although the book is about his particular subset of a hobby it really scores by how much it bumps into other facets of wargaming and the commonality of male recreation. It is funny, observant and only ocassionaly sinks into obsession; pretty much like most of his readers. For someone from the same locality it brings back a whole load of other memories.
A deserved success.
Boring! - Rated 
This is really a rambling and inconsistent history of wargaming. In fact it is very boring. I cannot understand why this would be classed as a laugh-out-load read. The author tries his damnedest to be funny but fails miserably.
Harry Perason reveals all - Rated
In this very entertaining book Harry Pearson reveals a side of himself that he has hitherto concealed from his reading public, that he is, and always has been, an ardent wargamer.
He combines the story of his own lifelong passion with a history of wargaming in general,and as with all his previous books this one is liberally laced with fascinating snippets of information. I had no idea that H.G. Wells and Jerome K. Jerome were enthusiastic wargamers, for instance. Nor did I know that there is a law that 50% of wargamers must be called Dave.
I particularly loved the discourse on military fashions, I never knew that the French called the wars of the mid-eighteenth century 'the war in lace, named for: 'the fancy embroidered tape that edged the soldiers' buttonholes and cuffs; each regiment would have it's own unique lace. I often wondered how these were chosen. I imagined the colonel of the regiment sitting at a table, sifting listlessly through designs before crying "No, these are too, too busy. Can't you get me something a little more, you know, Coco Chanel?" '
My favourite passage in the book though is the one where he is discussing with a wargaming friend (Dave of course), the accumulation of wargamin figures. Mr Pearson observes:
'Like me, he never took stock of what figures he had. I said, maybe if he did he'd realise he had too many figures. He replied that he felt that was impossible because "you can never have too much of something you didn't need in the first place."'
There now! The perfect response to give my husband when he complains about something I've bought on ebay. Thank you, Mr Pearson.
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