But personally, I gobble up most artistic output for its imperfections - and a story such as this needs to err to be so human. S Army sponsors (COIN specialists Travis Patriquin and Megan McClung) are killed the day before his arrival, which maybe accounts for how he ends up on a roof in Ramadi with a bunch of young US Marines dropping ecstasy on Christmas eve, and another where he is chased, high on crystal meth, through an unnamed middle eastern town by an angry crowd of locals. For the soldiers on his houseboat, and for Timberlake himself, there was the possibility of redemption through drugs, of pushing into and then away, from the horrors of warfare.

He waltzes into SAS selection with no previous military experience, which you certainly couldn't do in my day. It's very hard to feel sorry for the character in this book whilst also understanding that this isn't the point. The ecstasy did the job, and soon enough everyone was up on the roof, chewing and rushing, before littering the abandoned buildings around them with gunfire. After dabbling with extreme sexual practices Timberlake is stuck for a challenge and finds one in the idea of getting himself hooked on heroin to see how hard it is to come off it. According to the book’s cover blurb, Ben Timberlake has been an archaeologist, Special Forces soldier (21 SAS), combat medic and drug addict.

You can change your choices at any time by visiting Cookie preferences, as described in the Cookie notice. The poor me attitude of intentionally getting addicted to heroin and then going and living on a remote island is almost a caricature. High Risk is a within-and-without journey that glides between parable, text book and confessional without compromise. Rarely have I felt such a suspense and relief and got to live through things being thankful at the same time that it's just a book and I don't need to do the things myself. I guess I am somewhat stupid to think this kind of read could be anything else, but to me it seemed to lack humility and ultimately left me very cold, and a bit bored if I’m honest.

S Army sponsors (COIN specialists Travis Patriquin and Megan McClung) are killed the day before his arrival, which maybe accounts for how he ends up on a roof in Ramadi with a bunch of young US Marines dropping ecstasy on Christmas eve, and another where he is chased, high on crack cocaine, through an unnamed middle eastern town by an angry crowd of locals. One Christmas Eve, while serving with the SAS in Iraq, he doled out Ecstasy pills to some American soldiers and spent the night spraying a 7. Reviews and praise from BRCC brought me here, but the fantastic writing of just-believable tales made me stay. I bought this book because I’m interested in drugs and altered states of consciousness and the situations people take them in.That said I fully respect the incredible job that the armed and special forces undertake on our behalf, and am in total admiration of the author as a soldier. During his talk Ben will recount exploits from his book, High Risk, an odyssey fuelled by adrenalin addiction.

When I say obsessive, I mean an almost autistic fascination by the author in drugs and bio-chemical processes that left me baffled for the most part. Burroughs was interesting in that he explained, quite brutally, the degradation, subculture and appeal of the life of a junkie. I found the women mentioned in the book are portrayed for their strength and intelligence, first, before their physical beauty (which captures him again and again) A delightfully refreshing perspective to read from a battle hardened solider!It’s about what drives us humans to do beautiful and stupid things told by a person’s journey through addiction and…maybe…redemption and something more. EFP charges are fucking weird: it’s a ball of copper plasma that cuts through anything and cooks what’s inside.

The regular forays into cliché and overblown metaphor are cringe-worthy at times, and the occasional attempts to reassure us he's not an arsehole ("young mothers are doing the most important job in the world" - spare us) are laugh out loud (in a bad way). However it doesn't escape the thing it tries to, which is the current pop mold of private school kids joining the SAS and then writing about it or making a TV show. Gunner Timberlake’s friends drop away like scales; ones he’s shed himself because for a while they try to offer help but heroin tells you you don’t need help, only another hit. It seems to have driven his quest to propel himself into situations most avoid; there is much more in High Risk besides the war stories.

I’m always looking for something to shock me, and even though many events in the book didn’t (mainly his accurate picture of Herefordian nightlife! The timing was partly to do with enjoying the sun, but it was also that, once the drugs kicked in, the military men would start telling stories, some of which “were of such nerve-shredding evil” that the other guests were left traumatised. The author is very open right from the beginning - he told us what to expect, what not to expect, and that he’s an asshole. Dozens of soldiers on their way back from Iraq or Afghanistan would drop in and spend the day getting high with chefs, waitresses, documentary makers and anyone else who happened to be around and at a loose end. Not far from west London’s iconic River Cafe restaurant, Timberlake’s boat became the meeting place of an unofficial MDMA-fuelled therapy group.