Bulldog Drummond's Many, Many Rounds

Stop me if you've heard this one before: An Englishman with inexhaustible income fights to stop terrorists and communists from invading British soil, drives a British-made car, occasionally travels to other countries and enjoys a drink or several on his days off.

A long time ago I was staying interstate in a hotel. I had come to compete in an athletics competition. My training partner had Uni assignments to address so she wasn't terribly sociable company, so I raided the small bookshelf in the room full of yellowed 2nd hand books. Out of the romance novel drivels and bible, I picked up a book that looked particularly hardboiled detective-ish called 'The Third Round' by a bloke called 'Sapper', which I took for a particularly witty pseudonym.

It wasn't Chandler but it pulled me in like an anchor dropped into the ocean. The language was so full of 1920's English slang I almost needed a dictionary, I had no idea who the characters were, and it read like I was catching the penultimate episode of a TV series but I didn't care. The action, but more importantly, the characters and the way it was written kept me turning the pages.

The story, for me, started half way through the series. I had to go back and fill in the gaps.

The creator of said characters, Herman Cyril McNeile (turns out it was a pseudonym) knew how to make novels read like a good movie. No wonder most of the books were turned into films shortly after publication. McNeile's friend Gerard Farlie would take over the stories after McNeile's death. While McNeile's books have recently seen a republication in the early 2000's, I'm still waiting for Farlie's novels (which includes one of my favourites: 'Bulldog Drummond on Dartmoor') to see a reprinting at some point.

The day after picking up 'The Third Round', I brought the book to the running track. I got a personal best time but didn't make the final of my event. For once I wasn't bummed out because it meant I could read more. And thus did I fall in love with Bulldog (Hugh) Drummond - Simon Templar’s dad and James Bond's grandfather - One of the most tangental problem solvers in the history of English literature (predating Doctor Who, mind).

Drummond is a de-listed soldier from The First World War who risked life and limb in the defence of Mother England. His bold actions in the service earned him followers during peacetime. Like a few distinguished veterans, he fails to adjust to a quiet routine of normality, so he dives headlong (or fist-first) into other people's problems in his continued quest to defend Great Britain from her enemies. The fact he has a disposable income helps him avoid a normal 9 to 5 job, and rather than file paperwork, he gets to do interesting stuff like diving through windows, kicking down doors and participating in gunfights. In the 1960's films they gave him a job and a modest income but he gets pulled into the fracas with only the occasional reminder of it.

I think there's a reason Drummond has graced everything from radio to film and comic books. He is probably more personable than James Bond, with moments of Wodehouse woven in. There's such a variety in each story you can honestly never tell what will happen next. There's something for everyone. If you like a clever chemist/inventor, there's several. If you like a monocled aristocrat getting in over his head, or the odd amount of female hostage-taking; even wincingly painful torture, car chases, phone tapping, poisoning, political intrigue and explosions. There's also a couple of first-person narratives thrown in as well if you get too cosy in third-person. Fun for the whole family! (Torture scenes aside...)

My favourite Drummond black & white, mostly because of the epic sword battle at the end.

"You priceless old bean, I gathered from the female bird punching the what-not outside that the great brain was heaving - but my dear old lad, I have come to report a crime..."

- Drummond to a police friend in 'The Black Gang' (1922) by H.C. McNeile

Like Sherlock Holmes before him, Drummond has a nemesis in Carl Peterson. Peterson is a master of disguise with power and political influence. His lady, Irma, replaces him later on as Drummond's main antithesis. Yes, folks, a strong female antagonist heading a crime syndicate pre-women's lib. You go girl! (She develops into my favourite fictional female in Female of the Species) Seriously, think about it: In 1928, in the same novel series that has a female getting kidnapped by brutes every other weekend, there was a beautiful and intelligent (albeit vengeful) woman the main character (a man mountain) and his gang of ex-servicemen struggle to defeat.

As Rudyard Kipling put it: 'the female of the species is more deadly than the male'.

Reprints of the 'Sapper' books like this are easy enough to find online or in bookstores.

Unlike Sherlock Holmes, Drummond is a sociable fellow with a large group of friends who vary through the stories. A core pair is Algy Longworth and Peter Darrell. Unlike James Bond, Drummond approaches life with levity. He saves the world with a smile, a fist like a wrecking ball and with a tankard of beer in his free hand. He is laid back right up to the climax and then snaps into action; get on the wrong side of his temper, and you may end up rather broken. As an ex-soldier he knows how to move silently, shoot accurately and, rather exotically, he employs a form of martial art that breaks a fellow's neck on the odd occasion.

Dive into Bulldog Drummond for action, adventure, pub-crawling, devious enemies, nonchalant smoking (almost constantly) and ribald humour topped off with patriotism so British it drinks Twinings, salutes the Union Jack even on napkins, and believes 'God Save the Queen' is the greatest poetic achievement to mankind.

A recent comic book adaption of Bulldog Drummond that finished with an interesting twist.

Don't dive into Bulldog Drummond if you expect current day political correctness. Bear in mind it was the 1920's and 30's so don't take any of the gender stereotypes, racial insensitivity or antisemitism personally. I embrace the books as a light-hearted blokish romp into the past rather than a manifesto for a glorious British master race.

You don't have to be British to appreciate the elements that make McNeile's/Farlie's stories great. There were times I had to reread a couple of sentences because I naturally read with a South Australian accent, which doesn't suit sentences ending in 'what' (they continue to baffle me no end), or every sentence uttered by a cockney.

The things that set Bulldog Drummond apart from most literary heroes are why I like him and his menagerie to bits.

• Their approach to problem-solving always includes beer.
• Their main method of communication is slang banter much akin to a locker room prior to a rugby match.
• Drummond drives a Bentley. It would only be cooler if it was a Frazer Nash. (He did have a brand new Rolls-Royce, but that didn't end well...)

What I really enjoy about the series is the evil guys are often two-faced. They help people with one hand while plotting the destruction of the British Empire with the other. Some even start off sympathising with the good guys and you don't realise they're evil until the final chapter or two at the inevitable finale fisticuffs.To me that seems far more believable than 'let's plonk this non-English person here and make them evil for no greater purpose than this story needs a baddie'. Hell, even over time I found myself starting to sympathise with this intentionally hideously described hunchback who murders a friend of Drummond's. Drummond retaliates by rather brutally assaulting the fellow. These caricatures of nastiness aren't really caricatures. Carl Peterson comes close, being the type to truss up his enemy then recite his entire plan for world domination, but he does it because his ego requires it. Besides, his dry wit and intelligence sets him apart from the more melodramatic of his cohort.

Carl Peterson in full colour in the 60's film 'Deadlier Than the Male'.

 "Why, I remember once, that I was so incredibly foolish as to replace the cork in a bottle of prussic acid after I had - er - compelled a gentleman to drink the contents. He was in bed at the time, and everything pointed to suicide, except that confounded cork. I mean, would any man, after he's drunk sufficient prussic acid to poison a regiment, go and cork up the empty bottle?"

- Carl Peterson to a paralysed Drummond in 'The Black Gang' (1922) by H.C. McNeile

I guess what I'm trying to say is the characters in these books make the stories come alive. The enjoyment of the adventure becomes more than just beating the nasties and saving the girl, but following two parallel stories and watching them slug it out at the end. Sometimes you even spend most of the plot following the bads around. Will Eisner went on to do this a fair bit in his 'The Spirit' comics and I love those as well (READ THEM!! - no pressure...)

In 1941, Bulldog Drummond moved to the United States and settled in on the radio waves there for more than 20 adventures.

Bulldog Drummond's influence on current British literature is shown with a thinly disguised appearance as a thug (along with thinly disguised Emma Peel and James Bond) in the popular graphic novel series The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Despite making him an elderly racist grumpy thug, props to Alan Moore for embracing the character; but until Moore cuts his hair and beard and looks less like Rasputin, I remain terrified for my life should I ever see him in person.

It has been said in forewords that Drummond inspired a great deal of British and American literary heroes, much like John Carter of Mars spurring essentially the entire superhero genre when he was first published in 1912.

I always seem to be attracted to where a literary craze begins - rather unintentionally. But I wouldn't want it any other way. Give me my Martians, my trench coat-suited masked vigilantes and beer-swigging ex-soldiers any day!