This little biography seeks to make known the life and work of Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy, one of the leading British military chaplains of the First World War, better known as Woodbine Willie because of his penchant for offering cigarettes as a comfort to the men in the trenches. Its genre is the sort of hagiographic popular biography that might once have been used for the heroic exploits of missionaries working in hostile lands – the protagonist is somewhat familiarly and annoyingly, and probably inaccurately, referred to as ‘Father Geoffrey’. He even died a premature death (although this seems to have been caused by a punishing and frenetic schedule, as well as too much smoking). The book is both uplifting but also somewhat uncritical in tone, and there are several errors of fact or nomenclature which tend to indicate a lack of familiarly with some of the details of the history of the Church of England.

Nevertheless, Holman succeeds in singing the praises of his hero, who was also the author of some of the earthier poetry of the First World War, as well as the best-selling Rough Talks by a Padre. After the War he became a pioneer and regular speaker in the early years of the Industrial Christian Fellowship: the commitment to the poor he had learnt in industrial Leeds and then later at the front stayed with him in his national ministry from his base in Worcester. He was a figure who was keen to learn from the lower ranks and who refused to take refuge in the platitudes of establishment Anglicanism. It was on this basis that he often sought to explain the Gospel to the struggling young men in the trenches and to identify the misery of Flanders with the suffering of the young man on the cross two thousand years before, and even with the suffering of God (as Moltmann acknowledged – see p. 179). A good summary of his thinking and style comes from his book The Hardest Part: ‘I know nothing in real religion of the Almighty God of power. I only see God in Christ, and these men have shown me – Him’ (cited on p. 81).

The structure of Holman's book follows the different publications, outlining some of their content and context as well as offering brief assessments. This is followed by a more substantial appraisal in Chapter 12, even if much is based on the summaries of others. Perhaps the most important aspect of this book is its ability to convey something of the pace of Kennedy's career, and also the occasional and hurried nature of so much of his work and writing: he wrote some very bad books indeed (see, for instance, The Wicket Gate). Kennedy was a hero simply because he wanted to engage with people wherever they were, rather than expecting them to come to church or to ascend to the higher planes of theology. There is nothing systematic, or even very profound about Kennedy's thinking, but there is a grittiness forged in the heat of personal encounter with people who simply weren't like him. The brief and very personal epilogue by the author helps to explain why Woodbine Willie was chosen: he was, as Holman sought to be in his very different context, an ‘extraordinary voice on behalf of the poor and for peace’ (p. 190). He can consequently still inspire, chiefly because of his humanity rather than his essentially ephemeral writing.