David Niven is remembered as one of British cinema’s most charming stars, a man who traded the battlefields of World War II for the golden glow of Hollywood. But between the Oscars and the leading roles, he lived a double life that included commando raids, a near-miss with capture in Belgium, and a family tragedy tied to one of the British Empire’s most infamous defeats.
Born James David Graham Niven in London in 1910, he grew up in a wealthy middle-class family with Scottish roots. His father, William, a landowner in Berkshire, was killed at Gallipoli during World War I. That early loss shaped Niven’s sense of duty, but it would take him years to find his path.
After private school, Niven entered the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst in 1930. The academy commandant was Major Boyd Browning, who would later command the British 1st Airborne Division. His company commander was Major Goodwin Austen of the South Wales Borderers. Austen was one of five men with that name who served in the regiment, and his uncle had been killed at the Battle of Isandlwana.
As Niven neared the end of his training, he had to choose which regiment to join. His mother, mindful of their Scottish heritage, encouraged him toward the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. He listed his top three choices: first the Argylls, then the Black Watch, and for third place, he wrote simply, “anything but the Highland Light Infantry.”
In his autobiography, Niven claimed he rejected the Highland Light Infantry because they wore tartan trousers instead of kilts. It was a joke on a serious form, and it backfired. Someone in the army had a sense of humor too. Niven was assigned to the Highland Light Infantry.
He joined the 2nd Battalion in Malta, where he befriended Captain Roy Urquhart, an enthusiastic officer who would later command the 1st Airborne Division at Arnhem. Life in the Malta garrison was dull, and promotion was slow. When his mother died, Niven was granted compassionate leave and decided to visit America.
He fell in love with the country. It felt exciting and full of opportunity. Upon his return, he was promoted to lieutenant, but the desire to leave the army had taken hold. He booked passage to North America and resigned his commission by telegram from the middle of the Atlantic.
After a series of false starts, Niven made his way to California and Hollywood. The golden age was in full swing, and he joined the ranks of hopefuls chasing their big break. His first role was a bit part as a Mexican extra, earning 250 dollars a day. A chance encounter led to a silent role in “Mutiny on the Bounty,” which caught the attention of legendary producer Samuel Goldwyn.
Over the next two years, Niven worked his way into speaking roles. In 1936, he landed a major part alongside Errol Flynn in “The Charge of the Light Brigade.” His big breakthrough came in 1938 with “Dawn Patrol,” another Flynn film, this time about fighter pilots in World War I.
By then, Niven was part of the so-called “Hollywood Raj,” a circle of prominent British actors including Olivia de Havilland, Leslie Howard, and Rex Harrison. But the golden age was about to end.
On Sunday, September 3, 1939, Niven was on a yacht off the California coast when he heard that Britain and Germany were at war. He decided to return home and fight. He told Goldwyn he had been recalled to his regiment. Goldwyn checked with the British embassy, found it wasn’t true, and refused to let one of his stars go.
Niven then asked his brother to send a fake telegram from the Highland Light Infantry. It read: “Proceed immediately to depot. Stop. Upset. Stop.” The ruse worked, and Goldwyn reluctantly let him leave.
In Washington, the British ambassador, Lord Lothian, advised Niven he could serve his country better on screen. Most British stars in Hollywood chose that path. Niven wanted to serve in uniform, ideally with the Royal Air Force. His role as a fighter pilot in “Dawn Patrol” did not help his case. The RAF was wary of would-be pilots, and his application was rejected.
While at a London cafe, Niven met an officer from the Rifle Brigade who offered to get him into the regiment. He was commissioned as an officer in February 1940. Shortly after, he met Winston Churchill at a dinner. Churchill looked at him and said, “My boy, you did well to give up a promising career to fight for your country.” Niven beamed until Churchill added, “Thank you. If you hadn’t, it would have been despicable.”
Niven would meet Churchill several more times during the war. At one dinner in late 1941, he asked the prime minister whether America would ever enter the war. Churchill replied that a disaster would happen soon. Weeks later, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. When Niven asked how he knew, Churchill said, “Because, my boy, I study history.”
Meanwhile, Niven’s own path to combat was slow. While the 1st Battalion fought in France, the 2nd Battalion remained on transport training in Salisbury Plain. After the defeat in France and the evacuation from Dunkirk, Britain faced the threat of invasion. A message arrived calling for volunteers for a special mission.
Niven and his fellow officers assumed it was an attempt to replicate the German paratroopers. He was not keen on jumping from planes, but it was more exciting than driving across Salisbury Plain. He volunteered. The mission was not for the parachute regiment but for the Commandos.
In June 1940, Lieutenant David Niven arrived in the Scottish Highlands for training. The course produced notable figures like David Stirling, founder of the SAS, and Mike Calvert of the Chindits. Niven took part in the second Commando operation ever, a raid on the German-occupied island of Guernsey codenamed “Ambassador.”
As the war progressed, Niven was transferred to the GHQ Liaison Regiment, known as “Phantom.” These were highly mobile officer patrols that roamed the front lines and reported back to commanders. They were the eyes and ears of the leadership, equipped with radio motorcycles and even carrier pigeons.
Niven was promoted to major and given command of a squadron. Initially deployed defensively while Britain awaited invasion, his squadron was stationed behind the coast at Poole in Dorset. The commander they reported to was General Bernard Montgomery.
By early 1944, Niven was seconded to work with American General Ray Barker. Their job was to prevent miscommunication between the Allies, a problem that had plagued British and French operations in World War I. Barker, then 54, had the difficult task of managing Omar Bradley, Montgomery, and Patton, men Niven later described as “those arrogant commanders.”
Days after D-Day, Niven landed on the beaches of Normandy and began coordinating between Allied forces. At one point, he had to cross a highly exposed bridge under German artillery fire, then make the return journey.
Niven, like many of his generation, kept most of his combat experiences to himself. But he survived several close calls. In one instance, he followed Canadian troops into the liberated Belgian city of Bruges. They found a restaurant in the city center and sat down to eat. As they were leaving, a Canadian patrol asked what they were doing there. Niven explained, and was told to leave immediately because the Germans had launched a counterattack. Half an hour later, the Germans had retaken the city center.
Niven was also caught up in the Battle of the Bulge. Driving through the chaos of retreating Americans during the initial German advance, he ran into trouble, though not from the Germans. German soldiers had infiltrated behind American lines disguised as Americans, cutting communication lines. In the resulting panic, a man in British uniform claiming to be an officer was stopped by military intelligence and asked to prove he was not German by naming the winner of the 1940 World Series.
Niven replied in his characteristic style: “I haven’t the faintest idea, but I know I made a film with Ginger Rogers in 1938.” Recognized suddenly, he was allowed to pass with a smile.
At the end of the war, Niven was demobilized and joined 15,000 American troops returning home across the Atlantic on the Queen Mary. Hollywood was calling again, but not before General Barker decorated him with the American Legion of Merit.
Niven went on to enjoy a remarkable film career, winning three Golden Globes and taking home the Best Actor Oscar in 1958. He died in Switzerland in 1983.
His wartime service may not match the heroics of Richard Todd at Pegasus Bridge on D-Day, but it was certainly remarkable. And his connection to the Zulu War was not through film. It was through family.
Niven’s mother, Henrietta, was born in 1877, the daughter of Captain William Degacher of the 24th Regiment of Foot, later the South Wales Borderers. William joined the army in 1859 and was commissioned into the 24th, where he joined his brother Henry, who commanded the 2nd Battalion by the time of the Zulu War in 1879.
William served in the 1st Battalion and was promoted to captain, with a temporary rank of major for the campaign. The Anglo-Zulu War was the first time both battalions of the 24th served together. On the morning of January 21, 1879, the 2nd Battalion, under Lieutenant Colonel Henry Degacher, left Isandlwana with Lord Chelmsford. Only one company, G Company, remained at the camp, commanded by Lieutenant Frederick Godwin Austen.
Remember that name from Sandhurst? He was the uncle of Niven’s company commander. Captain Brevet Major William Degacher, Niven’s grandfather, stayed at the camp with the 1st Battalion. When Chelmsford left, William Degacher took temporary command of the battalion.
Later that morning, the camp was overwhelmed by a massive Zulu attack. The British garrison was annihilated. Isandlwana remains the worst defeat ever inflicted on the British Army by an African enemy. Among the fallen were Lieutenant Godwin Austen and Captain Brevet Major Frederick Degacher, David Niven’s maternal grandfather.
That is the story. David Niven’s personal connection to the Zulu War. A little-known tale of a great British film star, a man who was not just an Oscar winner but a decorated officer who served his country in World War II. A remarkable career and a remarkable man.