David v Goliath

David v Goliath

Mark Lardas, USN Submarine v IJN Aircraft Carrier (Osprey, 2025)
It sounds improbable, like something out of a sensational war movie; a US submarine sinking an Imperial Japanese aircraft carrier. Yet, even with all the protection offered to carriers by escorting warships and air cover, this remarkable feat happened ten times in World War II. In this book in Osprey’s Duel series, Mark Lardas tracks the paths of two very different types of warships to their fateful destinations on the high seas.
Lardas takes turns in describing the design and development of US Navy fleet submarines and Imperial Japanese carriers. Both were vulnerable in their own ways with almost every aspect planned out for maximum combat efficiency. Lardas considers their respective structure, propulsion, and weaponry, including the American failure to recognise the deficiencies in their early war torpedoes. The men who operated these machines also come under Lardas’s scrutiny. Here too, he notes that almost everything was honed to winning in combat, but the Japanese were notably more so to the detriment of their damage control functions. That would play a critical role in the survivability of the carriers when struck by US torpedoes. Lardas selects five brief case studies to demonstrate his points, of which two stand out: the Nautilus’s problems with dud torpedoes in 1942 when attacking the Naga, and the Albacore’s sinking of the Taiho in 1944 when the latter’s failed damage control operations could not save the carrier. In his analysis of 67 combats between USN submarines and IJN carriers, Lardas highlights the procedure for a successful attack, particularly after 1943 when the US resolved it dud torpedo problem. Conversely, there were no submarines lost to Japanese carriers in the war. Lardas concludes that the USN submarines ultimately won the fight against the carriers.
There is always something useful to learn from Osprey books; the condensed nature of the shorter format effectively highlights the main points under discussion. That is the case too with Lardas’s latest contribution. I am not sure, though, that the structured format for the Duel series works well for combat between submarines and carriers, with the case studies almost squeezed out by technical aspects that sometimes seem tangential to the events. I would have liked to have read more on the combat, but that is a quibble more than a complaint. Nevertheless, as an introduction to this aspect of the war in the Pacific, Lardas’s book works well enough, and Osprey’s graphic artwork illustrates his text to the usual high standard.

A Democratic Army?

A Democratic Army?

Nicholas Sekunda, The Athenian Army 507-322 BC (Osprey, 2025)
It is a cliché that in Ancient Greece the Athenians ruled the waves while the Spartans controlled the land with their seemingly invincible army. But as Nicholas Sekunda demonstrates in this new book from Osprey’s Elite series, Athens had an army too and they worked to overcome their challenges in land warfare every bit as much as they put that effort into naval warfare.
Sekunda begins with the reforms of Cleisthenes in 507 that revolutionised the Athenian military system alongside his political reforms. This was the army that was soon to be tested in the Persian Wars from 490, where we find Athenian hoplites trying to solve the problem of Persian archers. By 483, the Athenians had added their own archer contingent, Sekunda finds, along with some tactical changes. Cavalry soon joined the mix, and their numbers were increased in Pericles’ reforms of 442 and horse-archers added. Then came the Peloponnesian War and the use of lighter armed peltasts, which were originally foreign forces, but Athens soon trained poorer citizens in this manner of fighting. Sekunda also covers the doomed Syracuse expedition of 415. With Athenian defeat in the Peloponnesian War came more reforms including the redevelopment of horse archers into dedicated scouts. Another set of reforms followed in the 360s inspired by Xenophon. Both equipment and practices changed, but that did not help the Athenians when they suffered defeat to the Macedonians at Chaeronea in 338. An attempt to throw off the Macedonian yoke in 323 proved disastrous for Athens, all but ending their military system, which Sekunda decides is a useful place to stop.
It might come as a surprise to some readers that armies in the Classical period were not ossified institutions immune to change or tactical subtlety. Sekunda makes clear that the Athenian army certainly made changes when faced with new enemies or tactics. Although his book is a brief introduction, Sekunda packs a lot of information into his text, and he is well supported in the details of costume, arms, and armour by Osprey’s excellent colour plates of Athenian soldiers and the accompanying text. My only quibble is a lack of background on ancient Greek warfare, which would have proved useful to novice readers in this field. Nevertheless, readers looking for a wee bit more meat on the bones for this era in military history will find this book very useful.

Tigers Burning Bright?

Tigers Burning Bright?

Ben Wheatley, The Panzers of Prokhorovka (Osprey, 2023)
The Battle of Prokhorovka in July 1943 is considered one of the three great Russian battles. Rightly so, perhaps, and it could be considered as a turning point on the Eastern Front. The claim that this battle was also the graveyard of the Panzers has been challenged, however, at first on the fringes of historical thought, but now also by Ben Wheatley who has brought the counter-argument into the mainstream with what he argues is definitive proof.
Wheatley lays out his thesis and methodology. He argues that the widely accepted panzer graveyard is a myth, and he produces aerial photographs of the battlefield and German AFV (Armoured Fighting Vehicle) records to support his case. He sketches the context for a battle that saw mind-boggling numbers of men and machines slogging it out as part of the wider Battle of Kursk. The Soviets heralded a great victory, which was true but not in the manner they claimed. In Wheatley’s narrative, the Soviet attack on the Germans was launched too soon, causing them heavy losses, though they did stop the German advance. But far from being smashed, the Germans withdrew having lost just a few tanks, three percent to the Soviet claim of up to seventy percent, according to Wheatley. The German before and after battle records are quite clear on that, and the aerial photographs show very few carcasses of German panzers to support the Soviet interpretation. In short, Wheatley contends, there was no panzer disaster at Prokhorovka.
This book is light on narrative, and beginner students embarking on the Eastern Front should probably do some background reading on the battle and campaign before diving into Wheatley’s analysis. But if you are familiar with the battle and are able to grasp the significance of the AFV reports, then you are in for a treat as Wheatley pursues the panzers through the records often down to individual tanks. He incorporates many tables, a host of remarkable photographs, and an annotated historiography to help you along. I find it unlikely that Wheatley’s argument will be successfully challenged, which surely brings the Prokhorovka debate to a satisfying close.

Closing The Show

Closing The Show

Angus Konstam, Borneo 1945 (Osprey, 2024)
It was perhaps inevitable that Borneo would fall under Japanese control as they extended their Asian empire in the opening stages of World War II. They took the island in early 1942, but by late 1944, it was obvious that the Japanese empire was receding under Allied pressure. In October 1944, the Australians accepted the mission of retaking Borneo, which led to a series of amphibious assaults in May 1945. The campaign would last three months and cost 2,000 Australian lives. But was it worth it? In this new addition to Osprey’s Campaign series, the prolific Angus Konstam gets to the heart of the matter while telling a compelling story.
Konstam begins with the decision to retake Borneo and the planning that went into the operation. In his comparison of the commanders and forces involved on both sides, Konstam highlights the Australian advantages, particularly in resources and logistics, over an isolated Japanese force that was further separated by the internal geography of the massive island. The Japanese also did not know where the assault would arrive so had to distribute their forces, while the Australians held the initiative. The Japanese plan, therefore, was not to oppose the landings but withdraw into the hills from where they could counter-attack or make a last stand. And that is how all the Australian landings played out to varying degrees. Konstam narrates the landings at Tarakan, British Borneo, and Balikpapan, working his way through the preparatory bombardments, the steady drive inland against light opposition, and then the fierce fighting that ensued when the last Japanese position had been reached. In the end, the island fell to a superior Australian ground force backed by US muscle at sea and in the air. Konstam acknowledges the political and military victory though he argues it was not worth the wasted manpower to achieve it.
This is an informative and entertaining overview, Konstam seldom lets his readers down in that regard, and it is a story worth telling. Konstam covers the main events and sets them in their operational and strategic context. He is ably supported by excellent maps and photographs, and the colour illustrations of combat add flavour. Those who enjoy reading about the war against Japan will want to add this to their collection, but any student of World War II will gain a useful insight into the closing stages of the war in the Far East, and they can decide for themselves if the invasion of Borneo was worth the sacrifice.

Saving the Unforgotten

Saving the Unforgotten

Justin Williamson, Son Tay 1970 (Osprey, 2024)
It sounds like a simple enough proposition; take some hand-picked men deep into enemy territory and rescue a few dozen prisoners of war. In 1970, the US military decided to do just that by staging a raid into North Vietnam to assault a compound at Son Tay. But that proposition was far from simple and would require a complex support operation as well as a clockwork attack on the compound. There was only one problem, but it was a big one.
Williamson begins with an overview of the increasing number of US POWs held in North Vietnam by 1970, their maltreatment, and the efforts to retrieve them. The US conducted aerial searches for POW camps and zeroed in on a likely candidate for a rescue mission at Son Tay, northwest of Hanoi. Williamson outlines the debate in the US military on how a rescue mission might be conducted. Once the army had decided how to do it, a force was selected, and training began on an audacious plan that required precision timing for the raid and the highest level of interservice cooperation and support. The US knew that Son Tay was a well-guarded compound with a secondary building nearby, which they were less sure about. Moreover, a late intelligence flight suggested that something was ‘off’ about Son Tay, but by then, the mission was set to go. On the following night, 21 November 1970, the green light was given.
The mission consisted of one team on a helicopter that would crash land inside the compound before they assaulted the guards and rescued the POWs, while the rest of the teams landed outside the compound to provide support and interdict any rescue attempt. Meanwhile, the Navy and Air Force would conduct diversionary bombing missions and provide air cover. The plan was executed almost perfectly despite a couple of hiccups that usually happen on night-time missions. However, the biggest problem the rescuers found was that there was no one to rescue! The POWs had been moved months before the mission. It was a frustrated raiding party that flew home, though thankfully with no casualties other than a broken ankle and general disappointment. They returned to a political firestorm over the raid and its apparent failure, but the military view was that while this might have been an intelligence failure, it was worth the effort for morale purposes and to show it could be done.
Justin Williamson tells a fascinating story, and an important one in the development of special forces operations. In a relatively slim volume, he covers all the bases very well, though I would have liked to see more first-hand accounts from those involved. He is supported by the customary high quality Osprey maps and artwork; the latter being atmospheric rather than informative, but the illustrations fit the text. Readers of the Vietnam War and special operations will enjoy this very much.

Communism’s Eastern Flagbearers

Communism’s Eastern Flagbearers

Benjamin Lai & Zhao Guoxing, Ground Forces in the Korean War 1950-53 (1) (Osprey, 2024)
It is often called the Forgotten War, the clash of communist forces against the United Nations forces in Korea between 1950 and 1953. Far from being a marginalised story in our history books, however, this war was often a desperate struggle with enormous consequences for the political alignment in the Far East after World War II. But what of the soldiers who fought this war? In this Osprey Men-at-Arms series volume Benjamin Lai and Zhao Guoxing survey the North Korean People’s Army and the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army.
The authors trace the origins of the KPA to before World War II, though it became a fully recognised army in 1948. The KPA was heavily backed by the Soviet Union, which was reflected in their organisation and weaponry; it only used T-34 tanks, for example. The KPA’s tactics were not just the ‘meat waves’ you might expect, according to the authors, they used infiltration, concealment, and envelopment to ‘squeeze’ the enemy to disintegration. For communications, KPA soldiers used white flares and bugles because they lacked radios, the psychological impact on the enemy was a bonus. The authors describe the initial offensive by the KPA in the Korean War as a ‘blitzkrieg’. They overwhelmed surprised Republic of Korea units, but they in turn were surprised by General MacArthur’s Inchon landings and were destroyed partly by air power but also through lack of supplies and inadequate training. After their collapse, the KPA rebuilt successfully, though that took time, and by then, the Chinese had taken over the communist war effort. The Chinese People’s Volunteer Army (PVA) did not lack for soldiers, but it needed Soviet air support and armour. Nevertheless, this was a disciplined army that surprised the UN forces, argue Lai and Guoxing. They too lacked some logistical support, and it was June 1951 before they received their trademark padded uniforms and ushanka hats. The PVA tactics were similar to the KPA, with emphasis on striking vulnerable points and getting into the rear of the enemy. Despite massive casualties, the PVA were not afraid as some on the UN side expected they would be, conclude the authors, and the Chinese learned on the job to become a formidable adversary.
As with most of Osprey’s Men-at-Arms series, this one provides an informative narrative context and covers all the basics for the uniforms and weapons of the soldiers. The standard insertion of colour illustrations of the soldiers helps as does the descriptive text that accompanies the numerous photographs running through the text. Wargamers and modelers interested in the Korean War will enjoy this book and will surely look forward to the rest of the series.