Goering’s Last Throw

Goering’s Last Throw

Chris Goss, Operation Steinbock 1944 (Osprey, 2025)
For those who thought the Luftwaffe Blitz on Britain in 1940 was their only attempt to diminish British morale at home, think again. At the beginning of 1944, Germany’s warplanes again flew through British skies in a major offensive, attempting to punish the British and make them cower in fear. All they achieved, however, was to demonstrate Germany’s growing weakness and waste more lives. Chris Goss tells that story.
Goss begins in December 1943, with German plans for reprisals against the British through a bombing campaign. But they did not have the necessary aircraft until January 1944. Goss considers the capabilities of the six types of aircraft that would launch the operation in various roles: the obsolete Do 217, the Ju 88, Ju 188, He 177, Fw 190, and the Me 410. The total number of serviceable craft was 462, but none of them promised success. Surveying the defender’s capabilities, Goss highlights the problems facing the German pilots, with radar detection and a significant anti-aircraft net, not to mention the many squadrons of RAF nightfighters. London was the favoured target for the Luftwaffe with a number of port towns included to disrupt any Allied invasion plans. The first wave of a two-phased assault, the biggest since May 1941, took place on 21 January 1944. It was partially successful, in that bombs caused casualties and disruption, but at a high cost in machines and aircrew. More attacks followed, again with considerable losses and little effect on the targets, though there were enough casualties to remind England of the blitz though not the devastating scale of the previous campaign. The final attack on London came on 24 February 1944. On 19 March, the Luftwaffe switched to other parts of England but fared no better over the ensuing weeks. The diminishing number of crews and aircraft made operations harder for the Germans, but they persevered into April and May, with the last futile attack on Falmouth on 29 May. Some sporadic attacks followed, but Operation Steinbock was finally curtailed by the D-Day landings. Goss notes in his analysis that one German historian labelled Operation Steinbock as ‘pathetic’, but the Luftwaffe had caused many casualties and some disruption. The loss of pilots and machines and diminishing morale impeded the Luftwaffe, and British defences proved too much for them. The Germans also had issues with pathfinding and navigation, and even the weather was against them. Goss concludes that the operation was a failure.
Chris Goss tells an engrossing, albeit brief, story that draws the reader in from the first paragraph. The narrative that unfolds along with Goss’s survey of the two sides is filled with enough detail to make a student of World War II aerial combat want to read more. Goss’s use of gripping first-hand accounts from the various combats is neatly weaved into his narrative, a writing skill that is not as easy as it seems. Operation Steinbock was undoubtedly a Luftwaffe failure, a last throw of the dice, but Goss’s account of it is a success.

Britannia’s Powerhouse Navy

Britannia’s Powerhouse Navy

Angus Konstam, Royal Navy Grand Fleet 1914-48 (Osprey, 2025)
It is August 1914, and Britain has mustered the Grand Fleet, the largest and most modern fleet in the world. Its purpose was to bring the German navy to battle. The Grand Fleet had to wait until May 1916 off Jutland to fight the decisive battle, however, which left the Royal Navy the master of the North Sea, bringing about the strategic defeat of Germany.
Konstam begins with the launching of the battleship HMS Dreadnought, which revolutionised naval warfare. This inspired a naval arms race with Germany, but Britain was determined to retain superiority. That negated the various German strategies for defeating the Royal Navy and Jutland reaffirmed that. Konstam turns to the Grand Fleet’s ships, beginning with the mighty dreadnoughts and progressing through the cruisers and destroyers. He examines the main technical factors, i.e., the guns, armour, and propulsion, but also emerging weapons such as mines, torpedoes, and airpower. Turning to how the fleet operated, Konstam considers command, including a comparison between Jellicoe and Beatty, two very different admirals that worked well together, and an overview of the Admiralty. How the fleet was structured follows then an overview of how it operated from communications through logistics. Konstam argues that the common perception of the fleet as largely inactive during the War is inaccurate, and it was in fact quite busy. He also rejects the argument that the Royal Navy lost at Jutland. Konstam concludes that the Grand Fleet was instrumental in winning the War.
Royal Navy Grand Fleet is an excellent addition to Osprey’s Fleet series. Konstam packs a lot of information into such a slim volume, and he points readers wanting more to his brief but useful bibliography. Konstam also expresses strong opinions, unusual for this style of introductory overview, and this is an engaging facet of his writing. Osprey’s outstanding production values are on full display too, with many photographs and colour illustrations that provide a real sense of the power contained in this fleet. Students and casual readers alike will gain much from reading this book.

Germany’s Fighting Navy

Germany’s Fighting Navy

Nigel Thomas, The German Navy 1935-45 (Osprey, 2025)
As a former sailor, I’m drawn to naval history. But I didn’t know that much about the German Kreigsmarine in World War II, though I knew that it was not all U-boats and Bismarck. So, what better way to get started than to pick up Osprey’s latest Elite series book.
Thomas begins with brief summaries of German naval campaign. Like many of Germany’s forces, the Navy received some combat training in the Spanish Civil War. It is World War II, however, that Thomas concentrates on, with the section broken down into surface operations, submarine ops, the role of the merchant navy, and a brief note on the post-war administration of the service. How the Navy was organised follows before Thomas moves onto the fleet itself, beginning with ships of the line then capital ships, pocket battleships, light cruisers, destroyers, auxiliary cruisers, torpedo boats, speed boats, minesweepers, submarines, special forces, and naval aviation. There is also a section on naval land units, including penal battalions, engineers, and artillery. Also, in line with other services, the Germans allowed foreign nationals to serve in the Navy, most notably from Croatia and Spain. Thomas provides brief descriptions of the various naval uniforms and insignia.
It is this type of straightforward overview that made Osprey a significant military history publisher. It covers all the basics and is easily read in a single sitting. However, there is no in-depth analysis, and the lack of even a rudimentary bibliography is a major disappointment for those who might want to delve further into the subject. Nevertheless, the descriptions of uniforms and Osprey’s typically excellent colour graphics make Thomas’s book an excellent starting point for any reader interested in the Kriegsmarine.

The Company Man

The Company Man

Barry Michael Broman, Risk Taker Spy Maker (Casemate, 2020)
When we think of the CIA, we tend to envision men in grey suits walking through a foggy Berlin night or some other European city. Those familiar with the Vietnam war know about the CIA’s nefarious activities, or at least think they do. But in this memoir of his storied career, Barry Broman reveals a much broader range of CIA activities in southeast Asia, particularly in Burma and Cambodia. It is often an eye-opening read.
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Broman spent his childhood in post-war England. He then developed a passion for photography back in the US and began his career as a wire service photographer based in southeast Asia. He visited Vietnam and Thailand, where he mixed with royalty and Hollywood film-makers. Broman returned to the US to attend university and then joined the Marine Corps in 1967. He saw action in Vietnam but is careful to point out that the war was ‘not all blood, guts, and incoming rockets.’ Broman believed in the mission, and he argues in his memoir that Vietnam was a ‘just war but poorly fought. That experience perhaps primed him for joining the CIA, which he did in 1971.
Most of Broman’s CIA career was spent in southeast Asia. He served in Phnom Penh, which was surrounded by the Khmer Rouge, and got out just in time before the city fell. He started again in Thailand before stints at Langley and in France recruiting Cambodian dissidents. Rising through the ranks, Broman became Deputy Chief of Station for Southeast Asia then Chief of the Thai-Burma branch of the East Asia Division. In the latter stages of his career, Broman served under President Clinton, who he singles out as no friend of the CIA. Broman retired in 1996. As a retiree, he published photography books, made a documentary film, and began a serious art collection.
This is an entertaining memoir full of stories and characters. Alongside his regular work, and sometimes part of it, Broman trekked through Nepal, participated in a rat hunt, made a clandestine documentary with Henry Rollins – it did not go well – played darts with John Le Carre, met Aung San Suu Kyi, and had many other encounters with all kinds of strange and interesting people. However, such a breadth of experience sometimes takes away from the depth in that we don’t know that much more about CIA operations other than the surface information Broman provides. Nevertheless, Broman’s memoir adds to our understanding of CIA operations in southeast Asia where they were obviously busy. Broman is also an engaging writer, and this book skips along nicely.