The Latecomers

The Latecomers

Enrico Cernushi, Italian Adriatic Fleet 1915-18 (Osprey, 2026)
Italy was late to World War I. For about eight months, the Italian navy, the Regia Marina (RM), kicked its heels in port while the great powers contested the seas around the peninsula. Once they became involved, the RM sailed to war, with a primary objective of controlling the Adriatic Sea. The Adriatic is narrow, only 120 miles wide and shallower in the north than in the south. Despite a waterway full of mines, there were 48 engagements featuring the Italian navy in the three years they participated in World War I. Enrico Cernushi describes the Regia Marina and the action.
Cernushi opens with the development of fleets in the Mediterranean and demonstrates that the competition for naval supremacy was heated in the run-up to World War I. On the outbreak of war, the RM in the Adriatic would not fight just yet while Italy remained neutral. Cernushi moves forward to May 1915, and Italy’s introduction into the war, to cover the fighting capability of the RM, which was considerable both in ships and weapons. He also covers how the fleet was commanded, and hampered by problems with political interference, and the role of intelligence. Despite struggling with importing raw materials and coal at times, the Italians out-manufactured Austria-Hungary, Cernushi notes. With all the background established, Cernushi moves on to the Italian fleet in combat.
The narrative is separated by year and split into northern and southern Adriatic sections. Each section is opened with a chronological chart of events, including the ships involved and the targets. Cernushi supplements his charts with narrative, commentary, and box-outs of particular engagements. At the end of the war, confusion reigned over which country would receive which Austro-Hungarian ships amidst high level political machinations. Cernushi concludes that the RM picked its battles over the doctrine of action-at-any-cost and used the blockade strategy effectively. He notes also that after the War the Italian navy had to rebuild yet again in the face of emerging technologies.
This latest volume in Osprey’s excellent Fleet series is informative and introduces readers to a fleet that will be new to many of them. Cernushi does well when outlining and narrating the action, though he tends to skip around with the chronology in his opening chapter on naval development, making it hard to follow at times. Nevertheless, he provides all the information we need to form an understanding of the Adriatic fleet, how it worked, and what it did. This is a book that naval history students, especially readers of World War I, will want to read.

The 100 Hours War

The 100 Hours War

Steven J. Zaloga, Gulf War 1990-91 (Osprey, 2026)
In February 1991, after an intensive month long aerial bombing campaign, a coalition of UN backed forces attacked the Iraqi occupying forces in Kuwait. The offensive lasted just 100 hours, ending in total defeat for the Iraqis. In this Osprey Campaign series volume, Steven Zaloga tells us how that victory happened.
After narrating a brief chronology of events, Zaloga turns to the opposing commanders. That pitched a delusional Saddam Hussein against highly experienced western commanders from the Unites States of America, Saudi Arabia, and the United Kingdom. On paper at least, the Iraqi ground forces presented a formidable obstacle: 45 divisions of infantry backed by tanks and artillery. But, Zaloga points out, this was a ‘hollow force’ encumbered by a weak centralised command, too much variety of weapons, many of them obsolete, and poor artillery fire control. They had useful missile systems and a large intelligence network, but that was not going to help them when the Coalition forces arrived. The latter possessed everything Iraq did not, including better tanks, helicopters, artillery, intelligence, and logistics, much of which is surveyed by Zaloga.
It might have helped the Iraqis if they could have developed a viable operational plan, but Zaloga argues, they underestimated their enemy. The Iraqis set up to defend five possible approaches and mined them accordingly. The coalition had to defend Saudi Arabia and expel the Iraqis from Kuwait, with the US in the vanguard and other nations’ forces fitting in where required. Zaloga then embarks on his narrative of the campaigns, beginning with Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait in August 1990. The Iraqis then bolstered their defences against the expected assault, but they miscalculated the intensity of the air campaign that descended on them in January 1991. Zaloga highlights how drastically that impacted Iraqi logistics and reduced their defences. Morale plummeted and desertions were widespread. Zaloga turns to the missile war, with the Iraqis launching SCUD missiles at targets in Israel and Saudi Arabia and Coalition special forces conducting ‘SCUD hunts’ against missile launchers. Zaloga also describes the Iraqi raid on the Saudi Arabian town of Khafji on 31 January, which was defeated, boosting Coalition morale. Then came the Coalition ground offensive on 24 February. That involved a direct assault, which was met by ineffective Iraqi counter-attacks, and a massive wheeling manoeuvre into Iraq. On 25 February, Saddam ordered the withdrawal of the Iraqi army from Kuwait City, which was a confused affair that led to the ‘Highway of Death’ as the Coalition pummelled the fleeing Iraqis. The much vaunted Republican Guard tried to cover the retreat, but they too were thrashed in intense tank battles, helicopter attacks, and infantry assaults. Kuwait city fell on 27 February. With that the war was all over bar the shouting. Zaloga concludes with a brief analysis of a war that probably ended too soon because of political considerations.
Zaloga’s brief but illuminating survey of the Gulf War covers all the bases and offers a cogent explanation of how and why the Coalition army was able to destroy what they thought might be a battle-hardened and potent Iraqi army with considerable ease. Zaloga assesses the armies, their command and control, and their plans then deftly narrates the campaign. There is no in-depth coverage of the rank-and-file on either side, but Zaloga did not have the room for that or the air war, which is reasonable but leaves a wee hole in his account. Nevertheless, this is an informative book that captures a war of greater scale than the history books might imply. Zaloga is also well-supported by Osprey’s usual high quality photographs, illustrations, maps, and artwork. Readers of modern warfare will enjoy reading this book as will anyone interested in the events surrounding a war the consequences of which still reverberate.

A Much Maligned Man

A Much Maligned Man

Gordon Richard, In Custer’s Boots (Casemate, 2026)
There can be few more enigmatic and polarising figures in US history than George Armstrong Custer who commanded the 7th Cavalry in its disastrous engagement with multiple Indian tribes on 25 June 1876 at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Custer lost the battle, most of his regiment, and his life, and his actions that day have split historical opinion ever since. The weight of modern opinion leans heavily against Custer, who is often depicted as a vainglorious and insubordinate commander whose hubris and lust for glory caused a massacre of American cavalrymen that shocked the United States to its core. Gordon Richard is having none of it. In this volume of collected essays, Richard not only exonerates Custer but goes on the offensive against those who see it otherwise. It is a compelling read.
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Richard’s opening chapter is a reconstruction of the battle told in chronological segments as he follows the different companies of the 7th Cavalry to their doom. That is one of the few times that Richard spends on the battle, however, because most of the controversies he pursues examine the strategic whirlwind of movements leading to the battle by the columns of cavalry that most argue were supposed to converge on the Indian camp and either defeat the Indians in battle or shepherd them back onto their reservations. Thus, Richard fights back against those who claim that Custer defied his orders to launch his attack, digging into the source material to do so. He lambasts those who contend that Custer did not conduct adequate reconnaissance or maintain contact with the other columns and the Army commander, Brigadier-General Alfred H. Terry. Richard has few kind words for Custer’s subordinate commanders, Reno and Benteen, who the author views as self-serving along with Terry, all of whom heaped the blame for the disaster on the one man who could not contradict them: Custer. Richard includes essays on the activities of the main Indian protagonists during the battle, the awful plight of Custer’s terrified horses at the battle, how Custer is memorialised on the internet, and the curious case of the Culbertson Guidon.
Running through this book is Richard’s central argument that to understand what happened at the Little Bighorn requires the researcher to step into Custer’s boots and examine his choices in real time within his contemporary cultural context. Richard’s arguments are stridently promoted, but he uses a rapier rather than an axe to dismantle many of the myths and legends that have emerged since the battle. He digs into the primary sources to resolve issues, and he shows no fear in taking on respected historians, army officers past and present, and internet commentators alike. Richard also uses a variety of historical techniques in his arguments, with, perhaps inevitably, some arguments from omission and assumptions exposing some weaknesses in his conclusions. However, there are very few of those in what is a strong refutation of many long-held opinions on what happened at the Little Bighorn and why – I couldn’t help thinking that Libbie Custer would be proud of Gordon Richard’s stout defence of her husband. This is an essential book for anyone researching Custer and the Bighorn campaign and a thoroughly informative and enjoyable read.