by RNS | Apr 2, 2026 | Beating Tsundoku
Adrian Jamka, Renaissance Polish Armies 1492-1569 (Osprey, 2026)
Sixteenth Century Poland was a kingdom beset by external problems. The Tatars raided for slaves, the Muscovites wanted land, and the Teutonic Order sided with them. The Turks were mostly, but not always, a dark cloud on the horizon, and the Swedes and Danes pitched in with the Muscovites in 1558 to fight over Livonia. In short, the Polish kings were kept busy between fighting and diplomacy. Adrian Jamka reviews the Polish military and how it went about its response to all those threats.
Jamka begins with how the Polish army was structured and recruited. He includes local and kingdom-wide musters and the hiring of mercenaries. Jamka describes the organisation of the army, beginning with the cavalry, appropriately for a cavalry based army, then the infantry, and its logistics for campaigning. In the early period, kings commanded armies, but that gradually changed to appointed hetmani, who held combat command but also supervised the administrative staff. The size of the army the king had to put in the field depended on the royal treasury’s wealth. That meant that peacetime forces were small, which then had to be increased rapidly for war. Specialisation was also a factor for which troops were recruited. Armour was still a common sight on 16th Century Polish battlefields, along with helmets and shields. Jamka also describes the most common ranged and melee weapons and the various units that used them. For the cavalry, that meant lancers, light cavalry, hussars, and Cossacks. The Polish fielded heavily armoured infantry too, and the soon to be obsolete pavisers, and the crossbow-armed shooters, who gradually adopted arquebusiers and also carried melee weapons. Jamka closes with a survey of the army on campaign and in battle. Of note here was the deployment of tabors; chained wagons used as field defences.
This edition of Osprey’s Men-at-Arms series provides a useful survey of the Polish army as it transitioned into the early modern era. Jamka highlights the main trends and peculiarities of an army that struggled with logistical difficulties, but also one that proved a potent force in battle. Jamka does not adequately cover the artillery, but that is a mere quibble for an informative text that will appeal to hobbyists and those interested in this fascinating era of warfare on the cusp of the military revolution.
by RNS | Mar 26, 2026 | Beating Tsundoku
Matthew Willis, Beaufighter vs German Flak Ships (Osprey, 2026)
The ability to control logistics is the unseen power in warfare. In a massive war such as World War II, that usually meant that who dominated the sea lanes was likely to win. Yet, as Matthew Willis points out in this edition of Osprey’s Duel series, the RAF began the war without a modern anti-shipping aircraft. By 1943, that had changed with the adaptation of the Bristol Beaufighter to carry torpedoes then rockets. To counter them, Germany developed specialist flak ships, which in turn led to tactics to take them out to open the lanes for strike aircraft to do their job.
Willis begins his survey by describing the development of the Bristol Beaufighter. After some teething problems and modifications, the powerful warplane became operational in September 1940, initially as part of the blitz then as a specialist for maritime operations. In 1942, the external torpedo carriage was added, and with a few more tweaks, it became an anti-shipping aircraft. The Beaufighter was initially equipped with four fuselage-mounted 20mm cannons and carried bombs then rockets. Opposing the Beaufighters, were the German flak ships, which were not officially designated Kriegsmarine vessels, but anything that was primarily an anti-aircraft ship was designated as such by the RAF. These came in all shapes and sizes from armed trawlers to 7,000 ton auxiliary vessels loaded with anti-aircraft guns, many of them on flak towers.
As you might expect from a Duel book, the author digs into the weapon specifications in some detail, accompanied by excellent coloured illustrations, before moving onto a narrative of operations, beginning with the strategic situation. In essence, this was Germany’s increasing need to import supplies by sea, and the Allied effort to stop them. Willis’s overview encompasses an area from the far North Sea through the Baltics and into the Mediterranean. Unusually, for a book in this series, Willis surveys the combatants on both sides. He describes the Coastal Command crews as a ‘breed apart’, which they had to be to contend with the highly trained Flak crews. Willis also describes combat, which must have been a hairy experience for both sides. He concludes with his analysis of this particular duel. The British were on the receiving end before 1943, he argues, but with adoption of flak suppression tactics, the tide soon turned against the Germans. Willis concludes that the Beaufighters did have a material effect on Germany’s defeat.
The best volumes in Osprey’s Duel series, for me, are those in which you cannot decide who you would rather be. In this case, you have Beaufighters bearing down, ready to unleash devastating cannon and rocket fire on ships preparing to send out a storm of bullets and flak. Willis captures the moment well, measuring the machines and men against each other and the development of tactics and technology that led them there. The supporting graphic illustrations and dynamic combat photographs add to the flavour of what is an interesting and informative read. World War II and naval history readers will enjoy this.
by RNS | Mar 21, 2026 | Beating Tsundoku
Stefan Draminski, Nagato-Class Battleships 1920-46 (Osprey, 2026)
By the outbreak of World War I, Japan was already a recognised sea power. To maintain that status, the Japanese decided to build new battleships, the Nagato class, but costs and the 1922 Washington Treaty limited their ambitions to just two of those powerful vessels, Nagato and Mutso. Stefan Draminski describes the development of these redoubtable ships and tracks their service in the Imperial Japanese Navy.
Draminski notes that the two Nagato-class battleships were commissioned during World War I but were not ready until just before the Washington conference, when they were the fastest battleships in any navy. He describes their design, armament, armour, and engine power. By any measure, they were formidable battleships in that era. Of course, both ships were upgraded, including the addition of aviation facilities, and that continued with the demands of the Second World War.
Having described the ships, Draminski narrates their service history. They led a relatively quiet existence until 1937, when Nagato supported operations in the Sino-Japanese War. Then came World War II. Admiral Yamamoto was aboard Nagato when he gave the order to launch the Pearl Harbor attack. He then transferred his flag to an even bigger battleship, Yamato in February 1942. Nagato was in support for the disaster at Midway. Training and transport duties followed before Mutsu exploded at anchor in 1943, killing over 1,000 crewmen. Nagato sailed on, conducting manoeuvres but not taking part in combat until 1944 when she came under US air attack. She fought at Philippine Sea and Leyte Gulf in what was becoming a losing cause. Nagato ended her war as an anti-aircraft battery protecting the homeland. After Japan’s surrender, she met her ignominious end as a target for US nuclear weapons tests in 1949. Draminski concludes that the Nagato and Mutsu were the pride of the IJN in the interwar years but became comparatively obsolete in World War II.
This is a slim volume in Osprey’s New Vanguard series, and it is of niche interest. Nevertheless, Draminski sticks to his task. He provides all the technical information a novice needs to know and outlines clearly the development and service of both ships in the class. That information along with the graphic art and excellent supporting photographs will delight model-makers. This is an ideal book for readers interested in the Imperial Japanese Navy and the development of battleships.
by RNS | Mar 2, 2026 | Beating Tsundoku
Peter Williams, Kokoda 1942-43 (Osprey, 2026)
By July 1942, the Japanese had decided to capture Port Moresby in Papua to bottle up any strategic counter-offensive from Australia. To do that, they had to cross the Owen Stanley mountains by means of the Kokoda trail. The recently strengthened Australian garrison at Port Moresby and their US allies were determined to stop them. In this book, in Osprey’s Campaign series, Peter Williams narrates the story of desperate combat in often horrific conditions.
Williams provides brief military biographies on the main commanders involved in the campaign before moving on to the forces involved. He notes that the Japanese fielded experienced soldiers riding the wave of recent victories. One of his points of emphasis, supported by a photograph, is the Japanese field artillery that could be disassembled, carried up the trail, then reassembled. The Allies had nothing like it. But the IJA was let down by frugal logistics, though their soldiers were provided with sufficient medical support. They also had significant air power, at least initially. Australian infantry bore the brunt of the fighting along the Kokoda trail, though the first contact with the Japanese came from a local Papuan infantry battalion. The Australian deficiency in artillery was balanced by superior infantry weaponry and better tanks. Williams highlights the use of ten-thousand Papuan carriers to conduct logistical support to the front line. However, Australian lacked proper medical support. The Japanese were well-prepared for the task ahead, argues Williams, through solid intelligence. Crossing the Kokoda trail was a vital part of the broader operation to seize Milne Bay. The Australians knew less about the terrain than the Japanese even though it was their territory, and they had only a relatively small garrison on hand to defend the trail.
Williams now moves into his detailed narrative, beginning with the Japanese advance. The Australians and Papuans played hit and run, but they could do little to prevent the Japanese encroachment on Kokoda village and airstrip. The Australians continued to give ground while reinforcements prepared to arrive on both sides. Japanese tactical manoeuvring often failed to dislodge the dug-in Australians, though the defenders chose to move into more suitable positions. Williams records the various mishaps that were inevitable in dense jungle warfare. Then the Japanese received news that the wider Port Moresby campaign had been halted. Here Williams digresses to cover the action at Milne Bay. Japanese pressure back on the trail continued, pushing the Australians back without breaking them, until they reached within striking distance of Port Moresby. Then the tide turned and the Australians began a relentless counter-attack. This took a while to organise, and the Japanese dug in along ridges as they fell back to impede Australian progress. Numbers and resources soon told on the Allied side, and a US led attack on Buna outflanked the Japanese on the Kokoda trail. All of this took considerable time and effort, of course, and the Japanese defence proved redoubtable. Allied morale fell. Reorganisation followed, then tanks arrived, and after intensive fighting, the Japanese positions fell one by one with some Japanese defenders making their escape via a breakout. In his summation, Williams emphasises the learning curve for the Allies for continuing operations. The Papuan campaign was the end of Japanese Pacific expansion and the launching pad for future Allied campaigns.
Kokoda is an excellent addition to Osprey’s Campaign series. In the context of the war, this was a small operation, but Williams captures some of the intensity and complications that make Kokoda unique. The fighting along the Kokoda trail is not easy to integrate into the wider campaign for Papua, but Williams manages that well and provides a useful platform for those who want to dig deeper. He is ably supported by excellent maps and flavourful graphic art. Readers interested in Australia’s war effort in the Pacific will appreciate this survey.
by RNS | Feb 21, 2026 | Beating Tsundoku
Hugues Canuel, French Navy 1939-42 (Osprey, 2026)
For the casual history reader, the French Maritime nationale barely registers as one of the major navies in World War II. After all, the Royal Navy sank their ships early in the war, and that was that, right? In this book, Hugues Canuel argues otherwise. He sets out to restore the reputation of the Maritime nationale as a powerful modern navy in 1939 that for over two years effectively held up its end of the bargain.
The Marine nationale emerged from the Great War with its reputation intact but in need of modernisation. What emerged under the patronage of Minister of the Navy was a modern fleet capable of operating in the Mediterranean and across France’s empire. A more efficient command structure was also implemented. Faced with the gathering threats of fascist Italy and Germany, the French and British drew closer together in sharing their naval responsibilities. Canuel breaks down the French naval capability on the eve of war. France replaced its aging battleships, although some remained unfinished when France fell to the Germans, and older dreadnoughts were retained. The French also developed a new generation of heavy and light cruisers and destroyers. France’s submarine fleet in 1939 was arguably the most advanced in the world, argues Canuel, there were 77 of them in three categories for operational purposes. However, the French lagged behind in naval airpower. France also tried to modernise its technical capabilities but was hampered by budgetary problems and competing defence demands. This was evident in gunnery, radar and anti-submarine technology, and anti-aircraft weapons were not up to the demands of combatting increasingly improved aircraft in World War II. That unpreparedness extended to naval armour protection, except for the Richelieu battleships.
Canuel critiques the apparent improvements in command and control and strategic planning as superficial when it came to war. He analyses those aspects of the French Navy in some detail, noting the command structure and the differences between the home fleets and the colonial fleets, all formulated under the auspices of Admiral Darlan. Canuel also explains the inconsistencies of French intelligence, putting them behind the other major European navies. The French fleets did not lack for logistical bases and support across the empire, but they lacked shipbuilding capacity, and they were overstretched when supplying and defending distant bases. Canuel plots the various French fleets on the outbreak of war, then he embarks on his narrative of operations.
Even the best laid plans struggle with actual combat. That was certainly the case for the French, argues Canuel. In the so-called Phoney War, the French navy busied itself escorting convoys and hunting enemy raiders, sometimes in concert with the Royal Navy. The biggest threat, however, seems to have been catastrophic accidents in port. The French took a significant part in the Narvik operation in April 1940, where their lack of air defences proved fateful. By May 1940, the Marine nationale had performed well, according to Canuel, but then the roof fell in when France collapsed. The French navy played an unheralded but important role at Dunkirk and other evacuations from the French coast, all under heavy German air attacks. With the French surrender, however, the Allied problem was what to do with French ships now under Axis control. The answer was to seize or sink them, leaving a rump fleet to fight on for Vichy France. Engagements with the RN followed, but the French lost ships off Casablanca and then scuttled the high seas fleet at Toulon in November 1942.
In his analysis of the French navy, Canuel argues that the war highlighted what happens when military strategy meets political collapse. The French, he continues, had built a powerful modern navy that carried out its duties professionally and effectively despite weaknesses in anti-aircraft and anti-submarine capabilities. His argument is persuasive, at least on the surface level at which it is presented in this survey. Canuel’s book reads well as a protracted essay that highlights the earnest development of the Marine nationale, and its successes and failures in the war. He supplements his main text with illuminating box-out sections that delve a little deeper into important elements of that history. Canuel is ably supported by Osprey’s excellent graphic art and selection of illustrative photos. Readers of World War II naval history, in particular, will enjoy reading Canuel’s book, but any military enthusiast will do so too.
