by RNS | Apr 27, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Lawrence Paterson, Kriegsmarine Atlantic Command 1939-42 (Osprey, 2025)
Pity the merchant navy ships crossing the Atlantic in the early years of World War II. They feared the U-boats, but arguably worse was spotting a ship on the horizon and identifying it as one of Germany’s battleships on a raiding mission. There was little chance of escaping those big guns. The battleships belonged to the Kriegsmarine Atlantic Command, and in this new Fleet series book from Osprey, Lawrence Paterson surveys Germany’s surface menace.
Paterson begins with the surprise of World War II’s opening shots for a navy that was not ready. Then he works back to the Treaty of Versailles and subsequent efforts to skirt its restrictions, most notably by building ‘pocket’ battleships. However, Grossadmiral Raeder was wedded to surface fleet power, which limited submarine and air power development, though U-boats would soon be on the rapid building list just before the war. Lack of building capacity curtailed fleet development, leading to the concept of merchant raiders to strike and run on convoys before the Royal Navy could react. Paterson surveys the fleet available to Raeder as the war commenced, beginning with the battleships Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, Tirpitz, and Bismarck then the pocket battleships Deutschland, Admiral Scheer, and Admiral Graf Spee. Then came the heavy cruisers Admiral Hipper, Prinz Eugen, and Blücher, followed by the lighter vessels, including the destroyer and torpedo boat flotillas and minesweepers. Gunnery was, of course, important to surface vessels, and Paterson considers those next before moving on to the kriegsmarine’s constantly evolving command structure and all the internal friction that entailed. Paterson follows the fleet’s move to the French coast after the fall of France in June 1940, placing them on the Atlantic coast. That is a convenient transition to discuss operational doctrine.
The kriegsmarine adopted the Kampfgruppe concept, assembling battle groups to pursue singular objectives. This helped target Allied convoys but proved somewhat impractical with the adopted risk-averse approach to combat and potentially losing ships. Paterson also reviews naval intelligence and the roles of logistics and facilities, particularly those on the French coast. Paterson’s analysis of combat operations is conducted chronologically, including the demise of the Graf Spee, destroyer actions launched from Brest, the 1940 anti-convoy operations of Admiral Scheer and Admiral Hipper, and a series of successful anti-convoy actions in 1941 by Gneisenau and Scharnhorst, though these would be the last conducted by capital ships. Then RAF raids took their toll, putting Gneisenau out of action, followed by the Bismarck sinking and myriad mechanical problems with the other capital ships that limited operational effectiveness. In the wake of Bismarck’s loss, Hitler shut down operations other than the defence of Norway while he prepared for the invasion of Russia. Finally, the capital ships dashed through the English Channel from beleaguered Brest, in February 1942, and escaped to Germany. They never re-emerged, effectively ending German surface naval operations in the Atlantic. In his analysis, Paterson notes Hitler’s interference as the main reason for the failure of the Atlantic fleet, though the capital ships had demonstrated what they could do when unleashed.
Lawrence Paterson has written a succinct but engrossing account of the Kriegsmarine Atlantic Command. Many casual readers of the German navy’s exploits will be familiar with singular events, such as the sinking of the Bismarck or the hunting of the Graf Spee, but Paterson ties those events into the broader picture of naval operations. That brings out the destructive potential of the raiding strategy but also illustrates its shortcomings and outright failures. In the end, Paterson’s survey highlights the recklessness of Germany’s premature decision for war in 1939, when the Navy was clearly unprepared, but also what might have been if they had waited; that is a counterfactual worth thinking about.
by RNS | Apr 24, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Angus Konstam, Convoy PQ-17 1942 (Osprey, 2025)
In 1941, the Germans launched an invasion of the Soviet Union, putting the latter under severe pressure. They needed Allied supplies, most of which had to be delivered by sea from the UK via Iceland. That still meant running the gauntlet past German-held Norway. Though slow to react, by mid-1942, the Germans had deployed a small battlefleet to Norwegian waters, led by the battleship Tirpitz. That obliged the Royal Navy to maintain a fleet off Norway to protect the convoys. For the merchant ships, this was exceedingly dangerous work made even worse if the escorts withdrew, which is exactly what happened to Convoy PQ-17. Angus Konstam brings that story to us in Osprey’s newest Campaign volume.
On 27 June, convoy PQ-17, consisting of 36 merchant ships, most of them American, sailed from Iceland bound for Archangel in northern Russia. On hearing the Tirpitz fleet might intercept, the allies ordered the convoy to scatter, and the British ships withdrew. PQ-17 was on its own. Only 11 ships got through, the rest falling to the luftwaffe and U-boats, but the Tirpitz had never sailed. Konstam surveys the commanders on both sides in the convoy war then moves on to the ships, aircraft, and submarines. The respective plans come under Konstam’s review, which amount to getting the convoy intact to Archangel for the Allies, and the ambition of the Germans was to stop them, though there was much more than that needed to achieve victory. Then Konstam begins his narrative of the operation, the tension ratcheting up as the convoy sailed east from Iceland. The U-boats attacked first but were beaten off. Then the luftwaffe arrived, but to little effect as the convoy escorts saw them off too. But then came the fatal order to scatter. Konstam analyses this, noting that the Royal Navy believed that the Tirpitz group had sailed, but the decision to scatter, based on incomplete information, was a terrible mistake. Then the slaughter began – the graphic map of sinkings illustrates Konstam’s terrible tale. In his conclusion, Konstam leaves no doubt that the destruction of convoy PQ-17 was a complete disaster for the Allies, and that the subsequent inquiry laid the blame at the wrong door.
The fate of Convoy PQ-17 is a tragic story, and one that is well told by Angus Konstam. That is something that you might expect from such a prolific naval historian. While the format for the Campaign series is quite formulaic, Konstam lays out the disaster step by step, sinking after sinking. He also pulls no punches when it comes to apportioning blame for the disaster. Osprey provides its usual high quality graphic support for Konstam’s text. Anyone interested in the convoys will appreciate this book.
by RNS | Apr 19, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Tim Moreman, Second Arakan 1943-44 (Osprey, 2025)
For going on two years, the British and Commonwealth forces had been on the receiving end of the relentless Japanese forces in Burma. Pushed back to the Indian border, the Allies were demoralised with many believing the Japanese were invincible. But, by mid-1943, the time to strike back and win had come, and the British chose the Arakan region to launch their offensive despite a previous failed effort. In this engrossing narrative, Time Moreman takes us through that campaign.
After a brief overview, Moreman considers the commanders at the operational level for both sides and assesses their respective forces and weapons, including air power. He moves on to their battle plans, noting the strategic indecision amongst the British commanders. They knew approximately what they wanted to do, but final objectives and methods caused dissention, In the end, what they could do was mostly dictated by the available resources. The Japanese had their strategic problems too, with the more ambitious, some might say foolish, commanders wanting an offensive, while others thought defence in depth was best.
In August 1943, XV Indian Corps began to take up positions for the offensive. There followed a slow and methodical approach down to the Japanese lines, again dictated by communications and logistical requirements. They pushed the Japanese back, with some units learning how to fight on the job. The African 81st (WA) Division joined in the fighting in January 1944, and they too forced the Japanese to retreat. The offensive was assisted that month by Allied success in the air. However, the ground assault was meeting greater Japanese resistance, which culminated in the Allied failure to take the fortress of Razabil in late January. In February, the Japanese launched their own offensive in north Arakan, leading to fierce fighting, particularly around Allied defensive ‘boxes’, including the intense eighteen day siege of the Admin Box. The West Africans in the Kaladan Valley were also hit by a Japanese assault that caused the Africans considerable anguish. Nevertheless, unlike earlier in the war, the Allies stood fast for the most part, and the Japanese assaults broke against them. When the late monsoon crashed down in June, the Allies had achieved most of their goals while proving that the invincibility of the Japanese soldier was indeed a myth. Better troops, and more of them, better training, air superiority, improved tactics, and Japanese intransigence all played a role in this portentous Allied victory in Burma.
Second Arakan might have been a sideshow compared to the huge battles to come that would decide the fate of Burma, but as Moreman points out, this campaign restored Allied confidence and proved the worth of their forces when taking on the Japanese. It is a fascinating story well told by Moreman and admirably supported by Osprey’s graphics and illustrations. He also brings out the contributions of the Commonwealth forces, which have often been overlooked by previous historians. Any reader interested in the war in the Asian sub-continent will appreciate this book.
by RNS | Apr 14, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Mark E. Stille, Leyte Gulf (Osprey, 2025)
The Battle of Leyte Gulf, fought in October 1944, was the largest sea battle in history, involving hundreds of ships and nearly 2,000 aircraft, though most of them on the US side. The scene was the Philippines, which the US intended to invade, and the Japanese had to defend at all costs. Stille points out that the battle consisted of a series of engagements over three days, and the outcome was decided by mistakes on both sides. The US split their fleet, which led to a communications breakdown, but the Japanese erred much more by joining battle in the first place, which was tantamount to a suicide mission. The resulting Japanese debacle left the US in charge of the Pacific. But, Stille notes, the battle is still controversial and obscured by myths. To dispel those myths is the purpose of his book.
Stille takes on the challenge of the purpose of the Japanese battle plan, which they thought they could win when every indicator was against them. The second myth is the role of Halsey in what some argue was an American military defeat – it was certainly not, argues Stille. Halsey famously broke off the main fleet to pursue a Japanese force to the north with his fleet. Many see that as foolish or an act of braggadocio, but Stille argues otherwise even though Halsey performed poorly in the battle that ensued. The third myth Stille explores is that the Japanese should have destroyed the US force known as Taffy 3 at the Battle of Samar, one of the Leyte Gulf engagements. Stille sees that as unreasonable. The Japanese commander at Samar, Kurita, should have then attacked into the gulf where the main invasion force lay, goes the next myth. Again, Stille argues in favour of Kurita. Moreover, Stille contends that even if Kurita had done so, it would not have impacted the American progress in the Philippines to any tangible effect. Stille highlights the engagement off Formosa as the preamble to Leyte Gulf and proposes that the Japanese defeat there made US victory at Leyte Gulf almost inevitable; a ‘maritime execution’, in Stille’s words, in which Japanese sailors ‘paid an appalling price for the vanity of their leaders’.
This is the paperback edition of Mark Stille’s analysis of the Battle of Leyte Gulf fought in October 1944. Stille takes a thematic approach, analysing the myths in turn. He goes into considerable detail on the significant engagements, and his willingness to take on the myths surrounding this battle sets up enough argument to keep any reader of the Pacific War on their toes. Stille has written an engaging text that will appeal to the novice and specialist alike.
by RNS | Apr 1, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Mark Stille, USN PT Boat vs IJN Destroyer (Osprey, 2025)
It is mid-1942 and the Japanese are using destroyers to shuttle troops and supplies around the Solomon islands, most notably the fiercely contested island of Guadalcanal. These missions take place mostly at night, and the US Navy struggles to interdict them. The Americans have come up with the idea of using small but fast PT boats, but will it work? Mark Stille takes us inside this fascinating cat and mouse combat.
Stille begins with the problems facing the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) and the USN as they struggled for control over the Solomons. He then draws back to examine the design and development of the chubby but potent PT boats and the sleek, elegant IJN destroyers the Americans were out to sink. That includes the classifications and specifications for the ships, and Stille provides an overview of the crews, including a box-out for a certain American PT boat skipper and war hero named John F. Kennedy. Stille moves on to describe the strategic situation in the Pacific, focusing on the struggle for the Solomons and Guadalcanal. The stretch of water running the length of the Solomons became known as the Tokyo Express after the speedy destroyers racing through to deliver supplies and men before escaping by dawn when the Americans could use their air superiority to catch them. The PT boats first encountered the IJN on 13 October 1942 but could not penetrate the destroyer screen. The fighting that followed was mostly ineffectual, with the Americans nipping at the heels of the Japanese convoys but inflicting little damage. The PT boats had more success interdicting IJN submarines attempting to deliver supplies. Then on 12 December, the PT boats sank a destroyer off Savo island, but they lost a PT boat in the process. In February 1943, the Japanese evacuated Guadalcanal, but the Solomons campaign continued. The USN began to exert control over the region, so used bigger ships, relegating the PT boats to hunting IJN barges. Stille concludes that the PT boat idea did not work as well as intended; six were sunk in return for one IJN destroyer sunk and one crippled. Stille puts this down to bad captaincy on both sides. But the PT boats caused the Japanese an unwanted headache, curtailing their operations, and that was a kind of win. Stille also notes that the PT boats were quite successful elsewhere in the Pacific, inflicting the desired misery on the Japanese.
This is another solid Osprey book, illuminating the war in the Pacific. Stille knows his material, and he communicates the technical and human aspects skilfully. As a reader interested in those human aspects of war, this reviewer was pleased to see adequate space given to that in this book. Osprey provides their usual high quality production to this edition in their Duel series, with excellent artwork for flavour and many interesting photographs. Students of the Pacific War and small ship combat will enjoy this.
by RNS | Mar 29, 2025 | Beating Tsundoku
Chris Goss, Operation Steinbock 1944 (Osprey, 2025)
For those who thought the Luftwaffe Blitz on Britain in 1940 was their only attempt to diminish British morale at home, think again. At the beginning of 1944, Germany’s warplanes again flew through British skies in a major offensive, attempting to punish the British and make them cower in fear. All they achieved, however, was to demonstrate Germany’s growing weakness and waste more lives. Chris Goss tells that story.
Goss begins in December 1943, with German plans for reprisals against the British through a bombing campaign. But they did not have the necessary aircraft until January 1944. Goss considers the capabilities of the six types of aircraft that would launch the operation in various roles: the obsolete Do 217, the Ju 88, Ju 188, He 177, Fw 190, and the Me 410. The total number of serviceable craft was 462, but none of them promised success. Surveying the defender’s capabilities, Goss highlights the problems facing the German pilots, with radar detection and a significant anti-aircraft net, not to mention the many squadrons of RAF nightfighters. London was the favoured target for the Luftwaffe with a number of port towns included to disrupt any Allied invasion plans. The first wave of a two-phased assault, the biggest since May 1941, took place on 21 January 1944. It was partially successful, in that bombs caused casualties and disruption, but at a high cost in machines and aircrew. More attacks followed, again with considerable losses and little effect on the targets, though there were enough casualties to remind England of the blitz though not the devastating scale of the previous campaign. The final attack on London came on 24 February 1944. On 19 March, the Luftwaffe switched to other parts of England but fared no better over the ensuing weeks. The diminishing number of crews and aircraft made operations harder for the Germans, but they persevered into April and May, with the last futile attack on Falmouth on 29 May. Some sporadic attacks followed, but Operation Steinbock was finally curtailed by the D-Day landings. Goss notes in his analysis that one German historian labelled Operation Steinbock as ‘pathetic’, but the Luftwaffe had caused many casualties and some disruption. The loss of pilots and machines and diminishing morale impeded the Luftwaffe, and British defences proved too much for them. The Germans also had issues with pathfinding and navigation, and even the weather was against them. Goss concludes that the operation was a failure.
Chris Goss tells an engrossing, albeit brief, story that draws the reader in from the first paragraph. The narrative that unfolds along with Goss’s survey of the two sides is filled with enough detail to make a student of World War II aerial combat want to read more. Goss’s use of gripping first-hand accounts from the various combats is neatly weaved into his narrative, a writing skill that is not as easy as it seems. Operation Steinbock was undoubtedly a Luftwaffe failure, a last throw of the dice, but Goss’s account of it is a success.
