by RNS | May 18, 2020 | Beating Tsundoku
Christopher Duffy, The Army of Frederick the Great, 2nd Edition (Helion, 2020)
It might seem odd to review a book first written in 1974, but Christopher Duffy makes it clear this new edition is not a rehash but a ‘radical refashioning’ of what was already a seminal work on the Prussian Army under its greatest commander. In the thirty years since its release, Duffy has continued studying Frederick the Great’s army, reviewed his earlier findings, and revised his thinking on some key aspects: that is how the practice of history is supposed to work.
After surveying the historical background of Prussia and the pivotal role of the military in its survival and success, Duffy examines each element of the already impressive army that Frederick inherited. He begins with Frederick as King and Commander; how he managed and led his army through vigilance and discipline. Duffy works his way through the command structure in characteristic detail then recruitment, training, and conditions of service. Frederick also bent the Prussian economy to the service of the military and the State, which became synonymous for the most part. Each of the main elements of the army comes under Duffy’s careful gaze, beginning with the all important Infantry. He takes us through their organization, equipment, and tactical formations and practice, recognizing their strengths and deficiencies. The brilliant Prussian Cavalry is next with Duffy stressing that this was Frederick’s creation rather than his inheritance. Frederick’s understanding of artillery, however, proved a great weakness. He also had little time for his Navy, but the King’s grasp of engineering and logistics enabled Frederick to gain the strategic advantage for most of his campaigns.
It was Frederick’s application of concentration of force, iron discipline, and extraordinary energy that made him so effective strategically and tactically, and Duffy highlights this through a narrative description of Frederick’s wars and battles. The King was not always successful, of course, and the procession of battles inevitably weakened the army, but Prussia survived the onslaughts of the Seven Years War, a major achievement in itself. The stalemate that ended the War of the Bavarian Succession, however, demonstrated the decay that had set into the Prussian Army for what was Frederick’s last campaign. Duffy concludes with a consideration of Frederick’s military legacy that did not survive intact in practical terms through Napoleon’s military revolution, but there is no doubt surrounding his greatness in his own lifetime.
The Army of Frederick the Great is a detailed and comprehensive work that is essential reading for anyone interested in 18th Century warfare. Duffy covers everything you need to know about Frederick’s army and then some. This new edition is well written, with effectively deployed quotes from Prussian and foreign observers, placing Frederick’s army in its European context. The text is liberally sprinkled with illustrations and maps, though some colour plates might have been helpful. Duffy’s use of bullet points is also a bit irritating, and avoidable, as are the occasional typos. Nevertheless, what was a pivotal work in 1974 remains so today in its upgraded version, and I suspect will continue to be that way in the future. Highly recommended. 9/10
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by RNS | May 17, 2020 | Beating Tsundoku
Anthony Tucker-Jones, Hitler’s Panzers The Complete History 1933-1945 (Pen & Sword, 2020)
For most of us, I suspect, the infamous German blitzkrieg of World War II rested on their ability to punch through defensive weak points with tanks and pour into the enemy’s rear areas, causing chaos then collapse. Then with Tigers and Panthers prowling around battlefields, the Germans possessed the best tanks of the war. We have, therefore, a sense of German technical superiority in tanks, and it is remarkable that they lost, but lose they did. How? With that in mind, I approached Anthony Tucker-Jones’s Hitler’s Panzers The Complete History 1933-1945 in eager anticipation of finding some answers. I was not disappointed.
Tucker-Jones begins after Versailles when Germany was forbidden to build tanks, but as in most things they worked their way round that prohibition. Tank development continued under Heinz Guderian who could see better than most how important they would be in a future war. Panzer I and IIs were quickly developed but neither matched what was needed in a main battle tank. The Panzer III was an improvement and the Panzer IV became the workhorse tank for the army, especially when it was up-gunned to compete with the Soviet T-34. The Panzer VI Tiger carried the potent 88mm gun but it was very heavy and slow as was the production of them. The same fate befell the Panzer V Panther and Tiger II. The increasing allied bomber raids on factories accounted for most of that, but the latter were both delayed in design and production. In addition, Tucker-Jones argues that these heavy tanks presented as many tactical problems as they solved.
Part II takes us into battle with the German tanks. Tucker-Jones examines the creation and tactics of the Panzer Divisions, featuring the attacks on Poland and France, and the desert campaigns. He demonstrates that the Panzer I and IIs lasted further into the war than they should have, helped by the Allies, especially the British, having distinctly average tanks. The Panzers IIIs and IV’s, chewed those up but could not cope with Allied airpower. The Tiger did well too, as expected, but their capture helped the Allies find ways to defeat them. Out in the East, the Panzers were simply overwhelmed by numbers, though lost opportunities and premature and piecemeal deployment played their part. The Panthers, in particular, were subject to mechanical failures and poorly trained crews that mitigated their power on the battlefield. The Panzers fell victim to attrition in Normandy and on the retreat into Germany.
Part III surveys the switch in emphasis from Panzers to Sturmgeschütz (Stugs), assault guns that became indistinguishable from Panzers in their role during the increasingly desperate struggle to save Germany. The Germans needed tank killers and support weapons, and Stugs fit that bill. They were also easier to build than panzers when Germany had to plug the gaps in their Panzer ranks. In Part IV, Tucker-Jones moves onto missed opportunities, starting with the Battle of the Bulge, which ultimately did not go well for the Germans. The Soviets too had worked on defeating the German heavy tanks. Tucker-Jones concludes that the Panzer IV was the best German tank of the war not the more touted Panther. For the Tigers and Panthers, he argues there simply was not enough of them to make more than a tactical difference.
Hitler’s Panzers The Complete History 1933-1945 is a well-written book that covers all the basics of the German tanks and then some. It is a balanced account too: it will satisfy those who want an authoritative account while providing a platform for further study. Tucker-Jones might have leaned on Guderian as a source a bit too much, but that does not interfere with the thrust of his arguments or the enjoyment of his book. Highly Recommended. 9/10
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by RNS | May 17, 2020 | Beating Tsundoku
Samantha Priestley, The History of Gibbeting (Pen & Sword, 2020)
Gibbeting was the practice of hanging a criminal in a cage, iron bands, or chains from a high post for all to see and presumably reflect upon as they passed by. The victims could have been gibbeted alive or post-execution, and they were left hanging until they decayed completely. No one is sure when it started, early records are sketchy, though criminals were hung in chains throughout mediaeval England. The Murder Act of 1752 regulated the practice somewhat, but local customs still differed as to how they used gibbeting. That is the point at which Samantha Priestley delves into the details of gibbeting for nine gruesome but interesting chapters, with some helpful photos and illustrations, for her The History of Gibbeting.
No law existed before the Murder Act to administer gibbeting and it remained a confusing practice, though gibbeting while alive apparently fell into disuse in the 17th Century. Who was liable for this punishment and for what crime depended on location as much as anything else apparently, as becomes clear from Priestley’s parade of case studies running through her book. Gibbets were also almost always located in unique places particular to the crime for which it was the punishment. Indeed, modern place names remind us of the most infamous victims of the gibbet. It was not only murderers who ended in a gibbet, halfway between heaven and hell: highwaymen, mail robbers, and, of course, pirates also suffered this peculiar ignominy. The latter included Captain William Kidd, hanged at Execution Dock in London along with many others, and displayed at Tilbury Point, hanging again in chains. Priestley continues with a chapter on why the British public found this form of punishment so fascinating with 40,000 turning out for James Cook’s ordeal, the last man to be gibbeted. It also horrified them, as it was intended to, but, Priestley concludes, its deterrence effect proved minimal at best. The rationale for gibbeting, if there ever was any, faded in the face of the great reforms of the 1830s when it was abolished, but the fascination remains.
The History of Gibbeting is an easy read on a difficult subject. Priestley is accomplished fiction writer and it shows in her breezy style. That is both the strength and weakness of this book: she tells engaging stories about heinous crimes and skims the surface of her subject very well, but the depth of analysis is lacking, as are most of the source references, and the historical context receives loose attention. Nevertheless, historians are not Priestley’s audience, the educated public is, and they will be entertained and informed. 8/10
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by RNS | May 14, 2020 | Beating Tsundoku
Jenn Scott, I am Minded to Rise (Helion, 2020)
In I am Minded to Rise, another book in Helion’s excellent Century of the Soldier series, Jenn Scott surveys the clothing, weapons, and accoutrements of Jacobite supporters between the Battles of Killiecrankie in 1689 and Glenshiel in 1719. Scott begins with a handy timeline of events, followed by a background chapter on the clan system in the Highlands during the 17th Century and into the Rebellion era. Religious divisions played a role in who supported the Stuarts, and many Highlanders had military experience, though not as many went around armed as previously thought. Nevertheless, those outside the Highlands viewed clansmen as nothing short of barbarians. Highlanders also became synonymous with bright tartans and blue bonnets, but, in the first of quite a few surprises in this book, these were rarely attributed to any particular clan.
Scott examines the Jacobites in greater detail in subsequent chapters. Those who best fitted the classic description of Highlanders fought in the first rising, complete with long hair and beards while carrying swords, targes, dirks, and Lochaber axes, and some still carried bows – firearms became more popular in future campaigns. The proliferation of edged weapons led to the famous and devastating Highland charge. Scott describes that in among her accounting of the all the weapons used by the various Highland contingents. The demographics changed for the 1715 rebellion with many more coming to join the Standard from outside the Highlands. Tartan still dominated Jacobite dress, but long wool or linen shirts became common as did coats with waistcoats or vests underneath. Stockings and boots or shoes, and a wee leather bag, known as a sporran, completed the ensemble. The Spaniards arrived in 1719 to help the cause. They wore regulation uniforms in the Battle of Glenshiel, which was fought almost exclusively with guns rather than swords. Another significant difference there was the lack of beards and long hair. Scott concludes her brief but interesting book, about seventy pages of information, with descriptions of the colour plates of soldiers and flags and an extensive bibliography.
Reenactors, wargamers, and historians of dress will welcome this book. Scott’s ambitions are limited as you might expect given the subject, but she achieves her goal of informing while entertaining, and I enjoyed reading this. 9/10
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by RNS | May 13, 2020 | Beating Tsundoku
Martin W. Bowman, Hitler’s Invasion of East Anglia 1940 An Historical Cover Up? (Pen & Sword, 2018)
Did the Germans invade England in 1940? They certainly planned to under the codename Operation Sealion, and much ink has been spilt on those plans along with many counterfactuals on what would have happened had the Germans succeeded. Martin Bowman posits in Hitler’s Invasion of East Anglia 1940 An Historical Cover Up? that they did, or at least maybe they did. He explains in considerable detail how the Germans would have proceeded, deploying the invasions of Belgium and Holland to provide illumination. Bowman discusses spies, Brandenburgers operating behind the lines, paratroopers, commandos, gliders, the Home Guard, fire weapons, mysterious corpses washed up on beaches, co-op drivers, and much more. He throws everything and the kitchen sink at demonstrating that something happened, probably in Suffolk or just off the coast, and that the government covered it up and still does. But ultimately Bowman comes up short, resorting to his imagination to fill the hole all that evidence still leaves open.
Bowman’s assemblage of evidence serves him well, though perhaps not how he intended. The sections on Holland and Belgium are very informative, as is his dissection of Operation Sealion. He also adds to our understanding of German clandestine operations as they set up their blitzkriegs. Indeed, there is not much Bowman misses in synthesizing larger works from other historians into a coherent narrative and analysis of events in 1940. More footnotes would have been nice, however, particularly in a book that slides into fiction for the crucial reconstruction of the German attack – some readers might want to know how Bowman pulls all this together. A more judicious editor might have been helpful too in parts of the book that felt tacked on and not germane to the thrust of Bowman’s argument; for example, the stories of British commando operations in Norway seemed unnecessary.
The biggest failing, however, is in the argument that the British covered up what must have been a morale-boosting victory after the woes of Dunkirk and the Blitz. An accident, or disaster, is understandable, as would be weapon testing, but where is the benefit in covering up a significant victory, particularly when the British were spreading rumours designed to affect German morale, stating exactly what Bowman contends happened? Surely the British public would want to hear about dead Germans on the beaches, not have them carted away in civilian trucks and everyone sworn to secrecy? Unfortunately, I do not buy the German invasion theory, which is a pity because there is much to commend Bowman for in this entertaining and thought-provoking book. 7/10.
