Wellington’s Winners

Wellington’s Winners

Gareth Glover, The Great Waterloo Controversy (Pen & Sword, 2020)
What a sight it must have been: Napoleon’s Imperial Guard in all its glory, advancing magnificently into the teeth of Allied fire at a place called Waterloo on 18 June 1815. Minutes later, the bloodied remnants of that force fled from the punishment meted out by British muskets. The battle was lost, as was Napoleon’s cause. But did the 52nd (Oxfordshire) Regiment administer this final beating? It is a topic of enduring controversy, so Gareth Glover follows them through the Waterloo campaign and battle to find out.
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The 52nd had built a reputation as a redoubtable regiment from their founding in the 1750s and had fought extensively through the Napoleonic Wars. The 2nd Battalion, albeit depleted, was in Belgium on garrison duty when news came of Napoleon’s escape from Elba and the renewal of war. When the 1st Battalion arrived from Ireland, they integrated the 2nd Battalion to muster approximately 1,000 men. Glover narrates their preparations, then leads us into the campaign, bringing out every detail we could need to follow them. On 18 June, the 52nd was in position behind the Allied lines when the French cannons opened at around noon. They would not join the fight for over four hours. Glover describes the 52nd in grim detail as they endured cannon fire then Napoleon’s massed cavalry charges.
Then came the attack of the Imperial Guard. Glover discusses the confusion in the sources before his attempt to untangle truth from faulty memories and memoirs. To do so, he analyses the assault from both sides and promotes a new, comprehensive version of the event. It is clear from that how important a role the 52nd played in stopping then turning the Imperial Guard advance, but they did not act alone, according to Glover. The 52nd then took part in the Allied pursuit, including an unfortunate encounter with their own cavalry. With nightfall and a well-earned rest, the 52nd counted the cost, over 200 killed and wounded. Glover tails off his narrative with an account of the march on Paris and the occupation. He notes that the 52nd was the last regiment to return from France after the campaign. Glover changes tack, examining the claims and counter-claims over who defeated the Imperial Guard. He concludes that the 52nd has not received its proper credit but there has been no conspiracy against them.
The Great Waterloo Controversy is both a well written narrative and an analysis of the defeat of the Imperial Guard. Glover deploys numerous primary sources to make his case, though his tendency to lead with the evidence takes a bit of getting used to, and he perhaps gives some of his sources too much room when more authorial editing and commentary might have kept everything on track. Nevertheless, Glover is thorough and leaves no stone unturned in his pursuit of what actually happened. He obviously knows his material, and it would take a brave critic to take him on over what is clearly his home ground. Students of Waterloo will enjoy this book, though the uninitiated should probably read a Waterloo primer before diving into this.

Cat and Mouse

Cat and Mouse

Mark Lardas, US Destroyers vs German U-Boats (Osprey, 2023)
Of all the high risk combat in World War II, the cat and mouse manoeuvres of German U-Boats and American destroyers must rank near the top. One mistake, one stroke of luck, or one superior tactical decision could send a vessel to the bottom of the sea. This new volume in Osprey’s Duel series takes us out into the frigid Atlantic for some searing action.
For 45 months between September 1941 and May 1945, U-Boats and US Destroyers fought thousands of engagements. Lardas notes that most led to no result, but others developed into intense combat with one or the other, or sometimes both, being sunk. He adds that these fights were usually one-to-one, the Americans were rarely involved in fighting the notorious wolfpacks. Moreover, the Americans adopted aggressive methods and increasingly hunted down the hunters.
After a brief chronology of engagements, Lardas narrates the development of destroyers and their role in escorting convoys. He repeats that treatment for the U-Boats, Lardas noting that their early war superiority declined as the Allies introduced new technologies to hunt them down. Lardas moves on to describe the strategies and tactics deployed by both sides, starting with British efforts before the Americans entered the war in December 1941, though they were already involved in the Atlantic in a period of armed neutrality. Then we are into technical specifications for propulsion, weapons, and electronics, followed by a survey of the men who fought. Lardas remarks on the competence and capability of the Americans at all levels in the service, while the all-volunteer U-Boat crews were often the best young men Germany had to offer. Then Lardas focuses in on some individual combats between destroyers and U-Boats. In his concluding analysis of this cat-and-mouse warfare, Lardas notes the fearful casualties sustained by the U-Boats, though US destroyers accounted for only a small percentage of those. When U-Boats were hit, moreover, they tended to go down with all hands, while a destroyer could survive a torpedo hit reasonably well. Lardas closes with a brief but useful reading list for those who want to know more.
US Destroyers vs German U-Boats is an enjoyable introduction into something of a sideshow in the greater Battle of the Atlantic, though none of the men involved on both sides would have thought that way. Lardas writes well and clearly knows his material, and he is ably supported by Osprey’s usual excellent illustrations, including some 3D colour graphics and maps. Naval history readers, in particular, will appreciate this book, but it is not out of reach for even the most dedicated landlubber wanting to get their reading feet wet.

The Shadow Warriors

The Shadow Warriors

Andrew Long, Secrets of the Cold War (Pen & Sword, 2022)
Mention the Cold War and what comes readily to mind is a stand-off between the two superpowers, USA and USSR. Both armed to the teeth, guarding themselves against the other’s imminent attack, while their proxies fought small wars across the globe. Beneath the surface, however, both sides worked feverishly to determine the capabilities of the other through clandestine intelligence activities. In this book, Andrew Long surveys many of those operations and the warriors who fought in the shadows.
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Long opens with tables that, while useful, could have better served as appendices: a list of Dramatis Personae, a glossary of abbreviations, and a basic chronology of events. His narrative begins in the Stalin era with a survey of Soviet intelligence and the quest for atomic weapons. The Soviets deployed the Rosenberg network among others to boost their atomic knowledge, quite easily too, so it seems because the US and UK were shocked when the USSR conducted their first atomic detonation. The traitor Klaus Fuchs leads Long’s British contingent of spies into the 1950s and 1960s. It took a while, but the Soviet spy rings began to fall apart when a defector in Canada exposed them. Then came the brilliant counter-intelligence work of the Venona programme that finally dismantled the rings, though Long notes that some high profile spies escaped detection, and that the whole episode was a remarkable success for Stalin.
A relatively lengthy biography of British spy George Blake kicks off a new phase of the Cold War intelligence battle. His name will always be linked to the mind-boggling Berlin tunnel operation, though his long prison sentence and subsequent escape have somewhat masked his role in the betrayal and deaths of up to forty people. Long moves on to three cases that exemplified tradecraft, the skills needed for effective intelligence work: the Portland spy ring, the Oleg Penkovsky story, and the Gerald Brooke case. The latter led to UK involvement in spy swaps for the first time. We then move onto a chapter revealing how NATO intelligence operations, including ‘tours’, worked along the blurred lines between east and west from the end of WWII, until the reunification of Germany made them redundant. In his conclusion, Long ties up the loose ends from the stories in his book and reflects on a war played out in the shadows, some of which have yet to reveal their secrets.
They say never trust a book by its cover, or in this case, title. There is very little in Secrets of the Cold War that should be considered as ‘secret’. Indeed, most of what Long includes is well-trodden ground, particularly for readers of a certain age. The emphasis is on the early Cold War for the most part, leading to some curious omissions from the latter period. That said, newcomers to Cold War espionage will find this a fascinating read, even if some of it is a bit dry, and Long’s book should have them reaching for more.

Stopping the Swedes

Stopping the Swedes

Michal Paradowski, Against the Deluge (Helion, 2022)
In Against the Deluge, Michal Paradowski describes the Polish and Lithuanian armies that fought against the Swedish ‘deluge’ invasion between 1655 and 1660. If you enjoy 17th Century warfare but are unfamiliar with eastern European conflicts, you are in for a treat.
The general reader will be relieved that Paradowski opens with a chronology of the wars followed by a discussion of the sources. This is where Paradowski sets out his stall for what is to come; he intends to fill a wide gap in the sources when it comes to the Commonwealth armies. That begins with a discussion of the Commonwealth’s military system, how the armies were organised, their strength, and recruitment. Unsurprisingly, these varied with the fortunes of war, physically and economically. Paradowski turns to the command of those armies, supported by contemporary illustrations of some gloomy-looking characters. The main formations of the armies come under Paradowski’s gaze, and here we meet the famous Winged Hussars and Cossacks along with more mundane, but no less interesting, units. The use of foreign infantry also receives in-depth coverage, and Paradowski provides full coverage of homegrown contingents. Various aspects of military life receive due attention, then Paradowski moves on to describe how pitched battles were fought, complete with clear maps and contemporary illustrations. He does not overlook the importance of ‘small wars’, irregular fighting often conducted at skirmish level, and siege warfare. Paradowski concludes with an example of a low-level campaign, demonstrating he can write narrative as well as analytic history.
You have to credit Helion and its Century of the Soldier series for bringing in authors to cover niche aspects of 17th Century warfare. In Michal Paradowski, Helion has found a champion for the Polish and Lithuanian armies that brought the rampant Swedes to a halt, though it took a while and many learning experiences before they did. Through his expert selection of source material and a keen eye for what is important, Paradowski covers all you need to know in what must be the definitive text for this subject. He is assisted by the judicious deployment of illustrations and maps and some fine colour plates of soldiers and flags. This is essential reading for students of these wars, but general enthusiasts for 17th Century warfare will enjoy it too.

A Legendary Rebel

A Legendary Rebel

Lindsay Powell, Bar Kokhba (Pen & Sword, 2021)
Perhaps it is something to do with the seemingly unconquerable might of Imperial Rome that we are perennially fascinated by those leaders and peoples that stood up to them: Boudica, Aminius, and Vercingetorix are names that roll off the tongue. But for most Jewish people, it is the rebel Bar Kokhba who captures their imaginations. In this biography, Lindsay Powell attempts to track him down and examines his fight against his nemesis, the Emperor Hadrian.
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Bar Kokhba led a revolt against the Romans in Judea between 132 and 136 CE in the second great rebellion after the one in 70 CE that ended at Masada. Bar Kokhba’s revolt is less well known because it lacks a single, authoritative source, so Lindsay had to pull together fragments of writing and archaeology to construct his story. He begins with Hadrian, though, and encounters similar source issues. That doesn’t stop Powell from producing a biography of Hadrian and a survey of the empire he inherited. What Hadrian did in Judea comes next as we follow Powell on his journey to Israel. The highlight of Hadrian’s trip was to rebuild Jerusalem as a Roman city, which also proved to be the founding act of Bar Kokhba’s revolt along with alleged restrictions on the Jewish religion. And this is where we meet Bar Kokhba, or Ben Kosiba to give him his correct name.
Powell gets into the weeds, working out who this rebel leader was, or claimed to be, and why he thought he could win where others had failed. Historical precedent suggested guerrilla warfare might work, but it was a long shot at best. Powell describes the Jewish soldiers, including how to become a slinger, then we are into the revolt. This was a well-organised affair, a creation of a state, including an administrative structure and an extensive cave network used for hit-and-run tactics on the Romans. Initial Jewish success met with a Roman ‘shock-and-awe’ campaign that proved ineffectual at first. But anyone who knows Romans, knows they were a redoubtable and methodical oppressor. Powell describes how the pressure told on the rebel state. Bar Kokhba’s last stand came at a small hill town called Betar that the Romans besieged and stormed, though precisely what happened to him is unknown. Then the Roman mopping up operations began with predictable brutality.
Powell reflects on a revolt that had taken over three years and thousands of deaths on both sides to suppress. So many captives were made slaves that the market all but crashed, and Hadrian proscribed many Jewish practices. Bar Kokhba, however, became a legend, the development of which Powell narrates. He muses that Bar Kokhba was a man who lived two lives: his and the one invented for him. To round off his work, Powell adds a ‘places to visit’ guide, a glossary, and a list of place names. Finally, his 30 page bibliography is about as good as it gets.
In Bar Kokhba, Powell has written an ‘in search of’ style familiar to readers of Michael Wood’s historical explorations. For the most part, this is well done, though salacious details of Hadrian’s life made me wonder about their relevance to this story. I suspect also that this style will be marmite for some who will either love it or hate it. I enjoyed following Powell around as he uncovered his story, and he weaves his evidence quite seamlessly into an enjoyable read, which is part history, part travelogue. Powell also brings into play the continuing significance of Bar Kokhba, for good and bad. It is a book that is useful for understanding what happened and why, and why it matters. You cannot ask for much more in a narrative history book.