The Dirty Dozen is a powerfully prosaic novel about World War II. The title group comprises twelve convicted servicemen --murderers, rapists, armed robbers -- whose sentences are temporarily commutted by the War Office in order that they might partake in Project Amnesty, an unorthodox, unprecedented, and top secret mission, the exact nature of which is not revealed until the end of the book. Until then, we know only that the Dirty Dozen -- so named because they refuse to wash -- must be trained by Captain John Reisman to sneak behind enemy lines disguised as German officers, wreak some havoc, sow a bit of confusion, and generally weaken Nazi defenses in order that the Allied invasion can be more easily accomplished. Reisman has to slim 'em down, toughen 'em up, and give to each a sense of worth and group identity. A Herculean feat when all is considered. Need it be said that within these ranks are an embittered Negro intellectual, a borderline homosexual, a name-calling Southern cracker, a long-haired Ute Indian, and a chronically criminal Italian gangster?...E.M. Nathanson has obviously worked long and hard on this one. It's not his fault really that World War II has been done, and done, and done again. And it's difficult to say whether he or the War Office is guilty of gross stupidity. Did we really try to pass off Negroes and Ute Indiana as German officers? Did we consider only at the last minute that eleven of twelve men could speak no German at all? Was it considered necessary, in fact, to entrust an important -- albeit suicidal --mission to a dozen convicted felons? Well, Hollywood should grab it up anyhow. And there'll be work for George Peppard, and Sal Mineo, and whoever it is who's replacing Sidney Poitier in living color and stereotypic sound.