Beat the Drums Slowly

I expected another stiff regimental drama, but Goldsworthy’s sequel is closer to a military horror story—one where the real enemy isn’t just the French, but the relentless cold, the starvation, the cumulative exhaustion that turns men into ghosts. Richard Goulding’s narration sells the grimness: his tone never wavers between the clipped upper-class drawl of staff officers and the raw, exhausted rasp of privates, making the retreat feel like a living, suffering thing rather than a tactical puzzle. That said, the audiobook’s editing occasionally stumbles—some scene transitions feel abrupt, as though the producer wanted to keep the 12-hour runtime tight, which can jolt listeners out of the immersion. Still, Goulding’s performance is so committed that even when the pacing hiccups, you forgive them. The battle sequences are the standout: Goulding’s voice drops into a growl during firefights, his cadence mimicking the staggered rhythm of musket volleys. My only real frustration is that the civilian perspectives—women and locals caught in the war’s wake—feel underutilized, as if Goldsworthy is so focused on the military machine that he forgets the shattered villages beyond the battlefield. But when Moore’s rearguard action finally reaches Corunna, Goulding’s narration crackles with the kind of tension that makes your pulse sync to the drumbeat. If you want a war story that bleeds rather than salutes, this is it.