by RNS | Dec 30, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Mark Lardas, U-Boat vs Royal Navy Capital Ship (Osprey, 2026)
In World War II, German U-boats sank two Royal Navy battleships and three fleet carriers. They also damaged battleships in twenty-four different engagements. They did all that for the loss of only two submarines. Mark Lardas thinks that is a story worth telling, and he is right, but there was more to this startling statistic than meets the eye.
Lardas draws his readers into his story with the dramatic sinking of HMS Barham in November 1941. After that tease, he provides a strategic overview of the post-WWI naval competition between Germany and Britain when the British allowed the Germans to keep their U-boats, believing they were obsolete. They were correct in the long term, notes Lardas, but not initially because when the war broke out, the British were not ready. Fortunately for them, neither were the Germans. Lardas expands on that, examining the design and development of the U-boats, battleships, and carriers that would play out this cat-and-mouse warfare from Norway to the Mediterranean. Lardas also surveys the technical aspects of the boats and ships, including weaponry and detection methods. He then compares the respective crews, including box-out texts on tragic heroes Günther Prien and William Tofield Makeig-Jones, both of whom went down with their ships.
With the scene set, Lardas moves on to narrate the fleeting but momentous encounters between U-boats and their intended Royal Navy targets. That follows a chronological format, tracing U-boat attacks through the war. They include the attempt on HMS Ark Royal in September 1939 and the sinking of HMS Courageous three days later. Then came the infamous sinking of HMS Royal Oak at ‘safe’ anchor in Scapa Flow. April 1940 operations around Narvik, in Norway, proved frustrating for the U-boats despite their best efforts to hit RN capital ships. Lardas follows the action into the Atlantic from June 1940 to October 1941, then we move into the Mediterranean and the losses of HMS Ark Royal and HMS Eagle. The final attack on a capital ship came in November 1942. Lardas attributes that to improved anti-submarine warfare tactics, Allied control over the North African coast, and the reduced Allied emphasis on naval warfare. The attacks, he concludes, ‘simply stopped’. Lardas closes with statistics and analysis of the various encounters between U-boats and RN capital ships.
Despite its unsexy title, U-Boat vs Royal Navy Capital Ship is an interesting delve into a combat scenario that wasn’t meant to happen: capital ships were supposed to be shielded from U-boats, but when that failed, the results could be spectacular. Mark Lardas’s book explains how that happened, tracing the roots of maritime disaster back to the pre-war period and flawed designs and planning. He could have devoted more space to the combat narratives, but that may be unfair given the format restrictions. Lardas’s engaging text is well supported by Osprey’s excellent illustrations, graphic artwork, and selection of photographs. World War II naval enthusiasts will enjoy this book, but it will appeal to any military history student.
by RNS | Dec 27, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Michael O. Fallon, Hill 119 (Casemate, 2025)
Hill 119 was a barren rise on a finger of terrain, lying south of Danang in South Vietnam, with a 360 degree view of so-called ‘Indian Country’. Delta Company, 1st Recon Battalion, 1st Marine Division manned an Observation Post (OP) on the hill for 600 consecutive days in 1969 and 1970. They also took part in up to week-long recon patrols; while on the hill, they called in artillery and air-strikes on enemy movements. The enemy was the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese Army, and particular, 2nd NVA Division’s T89 Sapper Battalion.
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Michael O. Fallon begins his narrative with a geo-strategic overview for the year of ‘Vietnamization’, 1969. He homes in on Vietnam, relating how the Americans created a base on Hill 119 to cover the area 15 miles south of Da Nang known as Go Noi Island, sandwiched between two rivers, which was a Viet Cong and NVA stronghold and a staging area for attacks on Da Nang. The US also designated the island as a Free Fire Zone and conducted occasional sweeps to clear out the enemy. The small contingent of Marines on the hill was exposed to the elements, the rain and especially heat, so that Fallon, who served on the hill, remembered it as ‘a hot rock in Vietnam’.
With their OP established, the marines conducted morning patrols to check the protective wire and to carry out after-action assessments. They also set ambushes, interdicted enemy movements, recovered downed pilots when necessary, investigated villages and caves, and captured prisoners for interrogation. All that activity sometimes led to direct encounters with enemy troops, but more often they spent their time and energy avoiding enemy booby traps. They also made continuous improvements in the base for defence and living. By November 1969, an observation tower dominated the hill, with mortar pits and other bunkers dotted around to form an overlapping defensive structure. The OP’s primary function was to monitor enemy movements and call down artillery fire or airstrikes on them. Fallon notes that the Measure of Effectiveness (MOE) was the body count of enemy dead. The OP’s mission was aided by the introduction of a Secret Integrated Observation Device, which led to greater enemy casualties.
Of course, the NVA leadership found the OP more than an irritant, but their probes into the security of the hill was met with M79 HE rounds, and mortar, sniper, and machine gun fire. Nevertheless, an enemy assault on the hill seemed inevitable. One such plan was foiled by the Marines in early 1970, but in August, the assault came only to be repulsed with intense fire from the hill and covering artillery fire. Political circumstances, however, would succeed where direct assault could not, with the Nixon administration’s drawdown of US forces, which included the Marines. All the NVA had to do was wait out the Americans, and they would leave, which is exactly what happened. It was not just the enemy in the open that the Marines would have to worry about: Fallon argues that then men on Hill 119 could never quite come to grips with the local civilians and their needs and requests. This was exemplified in their dealings with a seemingly innocuous one-armed woman from a local village who visited often and who, many years later, was confirmed as a local Viet Cong leader. The clumsy interactions with locals led to the killing of another civilian woman, which ended in a court martial for the Marine sniper involved, though he was finally acquitted. In March 1971, the Marines left Hill 119 for good, destroying their defences behind them. The still bald hill slowly returned to nature.
Hill 119 is a nuts-and-bolts look at a small slice of the Vietnam War. Fallon notes that his book was written for today’s Marines and to honour the veterans who he fought alongside. He conducted one-hundred interviews and checked those against documentary sources and tactical maps, some of which he reproduces in the text. He leaves nothing out, including a constant flow of administrative and organisational changes, discussions of tactics, narratives of operations, and a detailed account of a court-martial. That attention to detail, some of which could easily have been transferred to footnotes, created an uneven account, with passages of concentrated action separated by long sections of routine and often humdrum events – much like the War itself by all accounts. The chapter structure is also somewhat mechanical, opening with the wider political context then zooming into Marine activities surrounding Hill 119. The overall effect is not as monotonous as it might sound, but there is so much detail included that the book grinds rather than flows. That said, there is much to admire in Fallon’s rigorous research and writing, and it is fair to say that he achieved his purpose. Readers of the Vietnam War will devour this book, which provides a valuable insight into what the US Marines on Hill 119 did and how they did it.
by RNS | Dec 15, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Yuhan Kim, Hansando and Busan 1592 (Osprey, 2025)
The year is 1592 and Joseon Korea struggles to repel a Japanese invasion that is sweeping all before it. At sea, though, the Japanese fleets have bitten off far more than they could chew because Korea had more than an ace up its sleeve. Step forward Yi Sun-sin to take command of an impressive navy that would hammer the Japanese ships wherever they found them. Yuhan Kim delves into this conflict and tells a fascinating story.
Kim opens his story with the initial, massive Japanese amphibious assault at Busan that began the seven years long Imjin War. He notes that over one million people would die in this conflict, which many Koreans believed could have been stopped at sea, though Kim argues otherwise. Kim continues his background set-up by considering the opposing military structures and commanders, including Yi Sun-sin for the Joseon and Wakizaka Yasuharu for the Japanese. Kim delves deeper into the opposing forces, focusing on their navies, including ships and weapons. The most famous ship was the ‘turtle ship’, the geobukseon, designed specifically to disrupt Japanese fleets, according to Kim. With his set-up established, Kim moves on to his narrative of the main campaigns. He begins with the Okpo campaign, initiated by the fall of Busan and the chaos that ensued. The battle was a crushing Joseon victory under Yi’s command. He was soon on the campaign trail again, intercepting an enemy squadron at Sacheon, trapping a Japanese fleet at Danghangpo, luring a Japanese fleet into deep water off the Gyeongnaeryeang Strait, and pounding an almost captive fleet at Angolpo, winning victory after victory. Meanwhile, the Japanese invasion had stalled, but Yi struck again at the Nakdong delta before sailing to Busan where he battered the main Japanese fleet. Kim moves on to Yi’s fifth campaign, in 1593. Yi’s fleet arrived at Ungpo bay, but the Japanese fleet would not come out. So, Yi organised an amphibious assault on Japanese fortifications, but it failed. A blockade ensued, but Yi had to give up for logistical reasons. In the aftermath, the war dragged on, but while victorious in every battle, Yi could not overcome his manpower and resources issues. Kim notes, however, that there was little doubt that Yi had saved Korea through his bold command decisions.
This is an excellent survey of a conflict that may be unfamiliar to many military history readers outside Korea and the Far East. Kim deftly handles the context of the Imjin War and how it was fought. And it was not all about the famous Turtle ships, though they played a significant role in the demise of the Japanese navy. Kim’s narrative balances the action in numerous battles with the less thrilling aspects of warfare such as logistics and politics. He is well supported by Osprey’s typically excellent illustrations and selection of photographs. Naval history readers will undoubtedly appreciate a book that covers a very different military culture.
by RNS | Dec 10, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Angus Konstam, Royal Navy Force H 1940-42 (Osprey, 2025)
Created in Summer 1940, Force H was a Royal Naval task force based in Gibraltar that reported directly to the Admiralty. They therefore had the location and opportunity to act in the Mediterranean, against the Italians, and in the Atlantic, against the Germans. It hunted the Bismarck in the Atlantic and escorted convoys to Malta in the most trying circumstances. However, the Force’s most infamous action was the destruction of the French fleet at Mers-el-Kébir in July 1940. In Royal Navy Force H, Angus Konstam narrates the story of this unique Royal Navy fleet.
Konstam expands on the mission for Force H in the wake of the fall of France. He notes that in addition to the situation with the French, Italian, and German fleets, Force H also had a watching brief over the Spanish and Portuguese fleets in case they joined the Axis. As for the fleet itself, Konstam calls it a ‘powerful fleet in miniature’ because of the array of ships involved, including battleships, carriers, cruisers, and many destroyers. This was also an interchangeable fleet, with ships joining and leaving as circumstances warranted. Konstam considers the wide variety of weapons that this fleet could bring to bear, though the Royal Navy was late to the show when it came to anti-aircraft defences. That said, Konstam argues that the game-changer was the fleet’s deployment of radar, which gave them an edge against enemy aircraft. For its own aerial purposes, the fleet carried Skuas, Fulmars, and the iconic Swordfish. Konstam turns to how the fleet operated, with considerations of command and organization, intelligence, communications, including the use of deception to deceive spies around Gibraltar, logistics, and facilities. He adds an interesting vignette on life at Gibraltar. Then we are into the fleets’ combat highlights, beginning with the attack on the French fleet at Mers-el-Kébir, the surprise attack on the Italian fleet at Taranto, the bombardment of Genoa, convoy support operations, hunting the Bismarck, and club runs to take aircraft to Malta. The loss of the carrier HMS Ark Royal in November 1941 signalled the beginning of the end of Force H, which was soon subsumed into the Operation Ironclad invasion fleet. Konstam concludes that Force H proved to be a powerful threat to the Axis in the Mediterranean and Atlantic.
Royal Navy Force H is an excellent addition to Osprey’s Fleet series. Konstam is a dependable writer on naval affairs, and this is a solid example of his work. His text is informative and covers all the bases, including box-out texts for club runs, hunting the Bismarck, Gibraltar and its accompanying strait, and escorting the Halberd convoy in September 1941. Konstam’s survey provides a sound base for further reading on the naval war in the Mediterranean and Atlantic, including the hunt for the Bismarck. His text is well-supported by Osprey’s usual high quality artwork and selection of photos. Naval history readers, especially those that focus on World War II, will enjoy this book, as will anyone interested in military history.
by RNS | Dec 6, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Steven J. Zaloga, German and Italian Tanks in Italy 1943-45 (Osprey, 2025)
The mountainous terrain of Italy does not readily conjure an image of tank warfare. Yet, in WWII, tanks were an important component of almost every battlefield. In this Osprey New Vanguard series book, Steven Zaloga highlights the tanks of the Axis forces in Italy and how they were used.
Zaloga notes that tanks were not the dominant force in combat, but they provided vital support for infantry. He begins his survey with Italian tankettes, which proved disappointing in the field, and tracks the development of their tanks and self-propelled guns. Zaloga points out that Germany gave Italy only small numbers of tanks, which was probably wise in the end. The Germans themselves deployed many Panzer IIIs and IVs with a few Tigers and Panthers, but the latter two tanks were not much use in the terrain, besides the Panzer IV occupied that tactical role quite well. Zaloga also surveys the German self-propelled guns and assault guns. The peculiar nature of the fighting in Italy along static defence lines resulted in the Germans also using static tank turrets mounted on foundations.
When the Italians withdrew from the war in September 1943, the Germans seized the remaining Italian tanks, most of which were of little use and were mostly used in anti-partisan operations. In any case, by the time that surrender came, Zaloga notes, most of the Italian tanks had been lost elsewhere. Many of those remaining were stationed on Sicily and Sardinia, the rest stayed on the mainland. The Germans had generally stayed out of Italy before the Italian withdrawal, but they read the tea leaves early and began to send more forces before September. Once in control, Germany used its tanks for defensive and counter-attacking operations. The Italian terrain prevented massed formations, reducing the tank role to mostly infantry support.
Zaloga turns to the operations involving Axis tanks. Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily in July 1943, opens the show. Zaloga outlines the action and the mostly ineffectual efforts of the Axis forces to expel the Allies. That is followed by the landings at Salerno, where the Germans almost threw the Allies back into the sea. More static warfare came with the winter defensive lines, with numerous attritional engagements though seldom involving tanks. Then the Allies attempted to outflank those lines by landing at Anzio, Operation Shingle in January 1944; although the planned German armoured counter-attack floundered in the rain, an effort that Zaloga argues was the turning point of the Italian campaign. The Allies subsequently broke through the German lines across Italy, forcing the Germans to evacuate north pursued by the Allies who also captured Rome. Zaloga concludes in his analysis that panzers played a significant but limited role in the Italian campaign.
Although tank warfare did not suit the Italian peninsula or Sicily, it was still an important part of the often intense combat as the Axis and Allied forces slugged it out for strategic control, as Zaloga makes clear in this informative book. He describes the tanks and how they performed in a succinct text that tank enthusiasts and readers of World War II military history will enjoy. Zaloga’s inclusion of a useful further reading list will be appreciated by those who want to add to the more general books on this fascinating campaign. Osprey’s usual high quality graphics and photographs of the tanks will also energise modellers. All in all, Zaloga’s book is a welcome addition to the New Vanguard series.
