The Coming of Age

The Coming of Age

Angus Konstam, Okinawa 1945 (Osprey, 2026)
Having been all but swept from the seas in the Far East, and with their attention elsewhere, it took until Spring 1944 for the Royal Navy to establish a high seas fleet in that theatre. This was the British Pacific Fleet, which was rebranded Task Force 57 to work alongside US forces as their invasion of Okinawa approached. The Royal Navy’s mission was to bomb Japanese airfields, but that drew the attention of the infamous kamikaze suicide attacks. Angus Konstam narrates that story.
Konstam sets up his story by analysing the forces involved. Task Force 57 laboured under logistical problems, relying on a fleet train of supply ships sailing back and forward to Australia from the Task Force’s operational area. TF57 used radar to track enemy aircraft, deployed ships in concentric circles for in-depth defensive fire, and positioned Combat Air Patrols (CAP) overhead. The Task Force used mainly US aircraft, including Corsair and Hellcat fighters and Avengers for dive-bombing. Some Seafires were also used, but they were not as good as the US planes. Konstam notes an important aspect of the RN carriers having steel decks, which were more resistant to damage but reduced the number of aircraft that could be carried. It was a trade-off that worked well for the Task Force when the kamikazes arrived.
The target for Task Force 57 was the Ryushu Islands, and ultimately Okinawa, which was well-defended by the Japanese. That included over 77,000 men on Okinawa and more on adjacent islands. The Japanese aircraft included Oscars and Zekes, and some Tojos, as fighters. For bombing, they used Bettys and Judys. But it was the kamikazes that posed the greatest threat. In this campaign, 2,000 kamikaze pilots would die. They sank quite a few ships, all American, but they only dented the Allied navies’ capacity to tighten the noose on Japan.
As he moves into his narrative, Konstam outlines the Royal Navy’s role within the broader strategic objectives laid down by US command as Operation Iceberg. That was to protect the US fleet’s flank by suppressing Japanese air activity in the Sakishima Islands. What followed was a grinding battle of Fleet Air Arm air raids on Japanese airfields, which the defenders would repair overnight, forcing renewed attacks the next day. Rince and repeat. Konstam narrates the relentless actions of the FAA bombing missions in March 1945. The Japanese struck back with kamikazes for the first time on 1 April, hitting HMS Indefatigable. The Task Force continued operations through April and May under the constant threat of attack, including attacks on Formosa. Very few of the Japanese planes made it through, but some did. On 4 May, a kamikaze hit HMS Formidable. She was hit again five days later, along with HMS Victorious. The bombing of airfields continued, however, until after two months, the RN Task Force left the theatre, job done. Konstam concludes that the Royal Navy’s Task Force 57 had performed a small but important mission against Japan.
Okinawa 1945 is a solid addition to Osprey’s Air Campaign series. Konstam lays out all the background material readers need to know before he embarks on an attention-grabbing, blow-by-blow account of Task Force 57’s operations. That is somewhat repetitive, as I am sure the FAA pilots would have agreed, but Konstam handles it well, interspersing the routine FAA attacks on airfields with the drama of kamikaze attacks on the Task Force ships. Konstam is aided by Osprey’s outstanding graphic artwork and some excellent combat photographs. Readers of the Pacific War will enjoy Konstam’s book as will students of military history looking for an introductory work on this important naval operation.

Blind Men’s Bluff

Blind Men’s Bluff

Mark Stille, Midway (Osprey, 2026)
In June 1942, a powerful Japanese fleet closed in on the small islands of Midway in the Pacific Ocean. They planned to capture Midway and draw out the US Pacific fleet to crush it, hoping to bring the US to the negotiating table. The main problem the Japanese had was that the Americans knew they were coming and were waiting for them to sail into a devastating ambush. Many have argued that the ensuing US victory was the decisive battle of the Pacific War. Historian Mark Stille disagrees with that assessment in this thoughtful and well-argued account of a battle that in retrospect seems almost pre-ordained.
Stille begins his journey to Midway in the Indian Ocean, with a Japanese task force under the command of Admiral Nagumo operating against the Royal Navy. Stille argues that some of the flaws that damaged the Japanese at Midway were exposed in that operation. For Midway, Stille describes a deeply flawed Japanese plan, ‘an illusion in every sense’, promoted by Admiral Yamamoto, a man with an inflated reputation. The Japanese, Stille argues, suffered from intelligence failures, a dissipation of forces, and wasted effort. He bursts the bubble of the myth of the desperate gamble against impossible odds on the part of the Americans. They had penetrated Japan’s plans, which allowed Nimitz to conceive a bold ambush. Stille also compares the fleets steaming towards each other across the Pacific Ocean and assesses the various commanders. He argues that the IJN offensive doctrine betrayed a fundamental hubris that led to a lack of adequate air defence, no early warning system, ineffective gunnery, and poor damage control. The US, on the other hand, employed radar and had sturdier aircraft, with the exception of the vulnerable and obsolete Devastator. Midway itself was heavily defended and unlikely to fall to Japanese invasion. With all that in place, Stille works his way through the narrative of the battle.
We join the Japanese fleet ignoring signs of US naval activity, which Stille argues was indicative of their ‘inflexibility and lack of imagination’. On 3 June, the Japanese targeted Midway with minimal success. The next day, the Japanese failed to find any signs of the closing US fleet. That allowed the American aircraft to strike first. Though their air operation was disorganised, that may have helped the Americans and created confusion in the Japanese fleet. Stille highlights Nagumo quickly losing control of the battle, then he started to lose the carriers as US dive-bombers struck home. A Japanese counter-attack damaged the US carrier Yorktown but also left the remaining IJN air squadrons diminished. Moreover, their attack revealed the last IJN carrier, which the Americans were quick to assault. The loss of all the IJN carriers brought the primary battle to a close, with some USN air attacks continuing on fleeing IJN cruisers, one of which was sunk.
Stille examines the reasons for the Japanese defeat, which amounted to a flawed IJN plan and faulty intelligence, and they broke all the principles of warfare. Yamamoto’s reputation as a brilliant admiral was undeserved and his IJN commanders committed too many errors, leaving victory almost impossible to achieve. Their air defence system also failed under the influence of Japanese ‘Victory Disease’, the hubris that comes from winning. For the Americans, Nimitz’s high risk plan worked despite tactical errors. Admiral Fletcher’s performance, Stille contends, was ‘flawless’, and while Admiral Spruance was hampered by staff incompetence, that was offset by excellent leaders amongst the squadrons. Ultimately, Stille concludes, ‘the Americans assembled the bare minimum required for victory.’ He notes the common view that Midway was a David and Goliath battle but argues that this was not the case. Midway was not the decisive battle of the Pacific War, but it decisively ended Japanese expansion. The US seized the strategic initiative, but even if they had not, the US industrial trajectory to support the war effort would have inevitably defeated Japan. Stille includes a what-if argument over the intended Japanese assault on Midway island, which he concludes was also destined for failure, and an alternative timeline for the Battle of Midway based on changing small events to affect the greater outcome. That, Stille argues, would have remained much the same as the historical timeline.
Mark Stille’s Midway is an engrossing analysis of the most famous battle of the Pacific War. Befitting his own career, Stille’s emphasis is on the intelligence side of the battle, from its inception to controlling the battle space while the chaotic fighting raged across the waves. Stille burrows into the minds of the commanders, analysing all the components of the battle as the commanders knew them, then he reconstructs their intended plans from the evidence. His conclusions differ from many previous attempts to understand, and in many cases, glorify the American victory. Stille’s interpretation is well-argued and posits a more predictable victory than others have suggested. He is undoubtedly correct in most of his assertions, making this a book to be reckoned with by future historians, though to this reviewer, Stille downplays the role of US initiative especially when set against the Japanese rigidity that he describes to great effect. Students of Midway have to read this book to grasp the full picture of that immense and important battle

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.