by RNS | Sep 12, 2024 | Beating Tsundoku
P.J. O’Gorman, Britain & Rome (Pen & Sword, 2022)
Did you know that Tacitus’ writings were a fake? And those of Cassius Dio? Agricola didn’t exist, nor did Boudicca and her destruction of the fake town of Camulodunum. They are all fictions, part of a Renaissance fraud perpetrated by the Roman Catholic church in an attempt to control classical history and thus establish Papal supremacy in northern Europe and England. Rather, P.J. O’Gorman argues in Britain and Rome, the only true history of Britain between the invasions of Caesar and Claudius is a Brittonic source as viewed through the lens of Geoffrey of Monmouth.
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O’Gorman’s opening shots are fired at the traditional narrative of Julius Caesar’s invasions. He argues that Britain was a wealthy trading island providing support to Gaul against Caesar. The Britons were certainly well organised enough to send Caesar packing on his first attempt. But that was diversionary, according to O’Gorman, the second attempt would be a proper invasion of conquest. But it too failed, despite Caesar claiming otherwise. With that, O’Gorman turns to the sources that lie at the heart of his thesis.
We owe our accepted understanding of the sources for early Roman Britain to the Renaissance, O’Gorman posits. He focuses on Tacitus and Dio and their inconsistencies, which have largely been ignored. Tacitus, and how we came to know his work, is first on O’Gorman’s chopping block. We know very little about the historian and almost all of his work stems from discoveries in the Renaissance – the Agricola dates to 1476. Dio too was not discovered until the Renaissance. Neither of them had been heard of before that period. O’Gorman concludes that ‘Tacitus and Dio are unreliable; they are fabrications…’. The 6th Century Anglo-Saxon historian Gildas, on the other hand, becomes the first identifiable British historian, and O’Gorman puts much stock in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia, stemming from a 5th Century Brittonic source. Having established his thesis, O’Gorman sets out to prove it.
O’Gorman begins his journey into the Brittonic source with an examination of the British royal lineage, comparing that evidence to Caesar’s Commentaries. This goes well until O’Gorman finds that Boudicca was a ‘fictional queen of the Iceni’ invented during the Renaissance. Nevertheless, O’Gorman sticks with his thesis that the Brittonic source is the most reliable account of British history during this period, complementing Caesar and Suetonius in crucial details. O’Gorman turns his attacks on Cassius Dio, the traditionalist’s historian for the Claudian invasion, who he finds inauthentic, while Tacitus is again dismissed as fictitious. Returning to Dio, O’Gorman argues that his work on Roman Britain was plagiarised from Caesar and Seutonius. He then explains why Dio and Tacitus only appear in the Renaissance. O’Gorman sets that up against a background of mediaeval intrigue, the restoration of papal supremacy, and the establishment of the Renaissance as a ‘perverse propaganda programme’.
Turning to the archaeology for the Claudian invasion, O’Gorman notes that what we think we have revolves around Dio’s ‘imagining’. But O’Gorman finds no evidence for Dio’s Claudian arch and castigates those who do, or think they do. He also attacks interpretations of inscriptions and numismatic evidence; the latter O’Gorman mostly puts down to Renaissance forgeries. Returning to Dio’s writings on Claudius’ invasion of Britain, O’Gorman maintains that it is ‘bogus’ and that Dio is a ’lazy and blatant’ plagiarist who replaces Caesar with Claudius and embellishes the rest of the story. O’Gorman argues also that the Roman town of Camulodunum is another Renaissance fiction.
To find a reliable account, O’Gorman turns once again to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s transcription of the Brittonic source. Here we find a very different account of Claudius’ invasion, one in which Claudius was forced to use diplomacy rather than conquest and Rome did not subjugate Britain at all despite maintaining an army on the island. They were there, according to O’Gorman, only to facilitate a trade deal. He then discusses the evidence from Juvenal alongside Seutonius, amongst which he claims Nero lost Britain. A consideration of Claudius’ daughter, Antonia Augusta, follows, which is pivotal to O’Gorman’s argument regarding a marriage treaty rather than conquest.
O’Gorman turns his fire on modern Roman historians. He rejects the concept of Romanisation and those who perpetuate it through nepotism and ‘blinkered beliefs’. He provides a ‘genealogy’ of Oxford classicists and calls them a ‘band of brothers’ preventing progress in this field. O’Gorman attacks their continued belief in Tacitus and Dio and labels their work as ‘indoctrinated ignorance’. He then rehashes his arguments over Tacitus and Dio, pointing to the Brittonic source as the ‘guiding light’ for understanding Britian and the Romans. This also requires a reassessment of the available archaeology, including Fishbourne Palace, Winchester and its treasure, the ‘red herring’ of Camulodunum, Glevum, and coin volume and distribution. O’Gorman also finds no evidence for the traditionally held campaigns from 43AD to 60AD, including the Boudiccan rebellion. He goes on to say that academics have now accepted that the evidence weighs against the traditionalist view. O’Gorman’s final chapter regurgitates his reconstruction from his evidence. His appendices are comprised of extracts from Caesar, Suetonius, and other sources he deems relevant to support his case.
It’s not often that you read a book where the aim is to bring down a whole field of study along with its most acclaimed scholars. But that is O’Gorman’s purpose in Britain & Rome. His effort, however, falls flat for various reasons. First, he has to knock out the twin pillars of Tacitus and Cassius Dio, but he does so by deploying a fundamental flaw that runs through the book: the absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. This doesn’t just apply to those two historians, O’Gorman argues that other historians, such as Suetonius, would have mentioned things if they had happened; but Suetonius didn’t, so they didn’t. It’s a weak line of reasoning to underpin O’Gorman’s thesis. Moreover, O’Gorman misunderstands the role of plagiarism, applying modern values to ancient historians who routinely drew on other sources to tell their stories or bolster their arguments and thought nothing of it. In addition, O’Gorman’s selection of archaeological evidence omits some peculiar examples, the most glaring of which, to this reviewer, is the absence of discussion on marching camps – if the Romans did not conduct military expeditions into the interior of Britain, what function did the camps serve? However, setting his argument aside, the most unedifying aspect of O’Gorman’s diatribe is the tone he uses, which is often disrespectful, dismissive, and sarcastic, as if he knows that the evidence he musters cannot hold the water he wants it to carry, so he has to attack his opposing historians, both ancient and modern. It’s all very distasteful and unbecoming of a serious historian as O’Gorman purports to be. This is all rather unfortunate because there is an argument to include the Brittonic source in the discussion of the early Roman contacts with the Britons, be they peaceful or otherwise, but O’Gorman chooses not to engage in any meaningful or respectful way with his peers or forbears. All in all, Britain & Rome is a wasted opportunity, a flawed thesis written with unwarranted venom.
by RNS | Aug 31, 2024 | Beating Tsundoku
Mark Lardas, US Navy Pacific Fleet 1941 (Osprey, 2024)
There can’t be many readers unaware of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941 and the devastation it wreaked on the US fleet sitting at anchor. But what was that fleet? How had it developed, and what was it designed for? Mark Lardas takes on the task of answering those questions in this book in Osprey’s Fleet series.
Lardas begins with the fleet’s main purpose, which was to project power across the Pacific ocean. The Americans built their ships accordingly and within the parameters agreed in the various inter-war treaties. Lardas notes that the US had five categories of warships: battleships, aircraft carriers, cruisers, destroyers, and submarines. They were supported by fleet auxiliaries. He then works his way through the different classes of ships, detailing their specifications and their roles in the fleet. Along the way, we learn about carrier, anti-aircraft, and submarine doctrines in box-out sections. Lardas goes into more detail on technical factors, such as surface combat and anti-aircraft guns, torpedoes (among the world’s worst in 1941), radar, aircraft, and, of course, the men who operated them all. The latter are described by Lardas as skilled and dedicated, serving under competent officers.
Lardas next surveys how the fleet operated, considering doctrine and command. We discover that the US was well aware of the threat Japan posed in the Pacific and thought it had planned aggressively, under the leadership of Admiral Husband E. Kimmel, for the coming conflict. Lardas argues that criticisms over US neglect of air power was unfair based on limited carrier availability. Turning to intelligence and communications, Lardas highlights the flaws that led to Pearl Harbor; although the intelligence department knew the pieces of the jigsaw, it did not put them together. Controlling such a large ocean required efficient logistics, and Lardas argues that this necessity shaped the fleet. He also notes the central importance of Pearl Harbor as a base. When it came to preparing for combat, the US mistakenly believed it had superiority over Japan, and that by using Wake Island as a forward base, Kimmel thought he could lure the Japanese into a decisive naval battle. But then came Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941, which scuppered all of Kimmel’s plans, leading to his replacement by Admiral Chester Nimitz. However, Lardas contends that the US fleet was far from degraded by the Japanese attack. Indeed, the destruction of the battleships helped the US develop a better fleet based on carriers and submarines, thus overcoming one of the 1941 fleet’s glaring weaknesses.
In US Navy Pacific Fleet 1941, Mark Lardas has written an excellent addition to Osprey’s Fleet series. He packs a lot of information into a relatively short survey, describing a fully operational navy ready for almost anything the Japanese could throw at it. But, as Lardas makes clear, it was a fleet already obsolete in some respects and underdeveloped in others. Lardas also covers all the major aspects of the fleet, from technical stats to operational planning. His engaging text is well supported by Osprey’s usual graphics and photograph selection. Any reader with an interest in the Pacific War or naval warfare will enjoy Lardas’ book.
by RNS | Aug 30, 2024 | Beating Tsundoku
Stephen Bull, German Soldier versus British Soldier (Osprey, 2024)
By November 1917, German prospects of winning the Great War appeared to be slipping away. They were running out of time at home on the economic front and on the Western Front, where the endless attrition of trench warfare had ground down the German armies. Moreover, the imminent arrival of the American army in France threatened an unstoppable overload that promised certain defeat. Action was needed and, preferably, a knockout blow. New tactical thinking and an influx of troops from the Eastern Front, provided the opportunity for a Spring offensive that would drive a wedge between the French and British armies and push the British out of the war. The subject of this new Osprey book is the soldiers who would fight the battles that would decide the fate of that offensive and that of Germany.
Bull opens with the strategic situation and general plan for the German offensive before turning to the origins and recruitment of both armies. That includes some potted regimental histories, focusing on units that would be heavily involved in the battles Bull describes later in the book, though this isn’t clear at this point – some foreshadowing by the author might have helped here. Bull gets back on track with a discussion of tactics and training where we learn the methods of the troops fighting the battles in the narrative section to follow – here we learn about stormtrooper tactics and defensive zones, for example. Bull continues to set the stage with a survey of morale, motivation, and logistics. On the important question of German morale entering 1918, Bull concludes that it was high. British morale fluctuated during the war, but it too was high going into the new year, and, perhaps crucially, the British held a logistical advantage over the Germans.
The second section of Bull’s book is a narrative account of three engagements in 1918: Manchester Hill in March, Rifle Wood in April, and The Selle in October. For each battle, Bull establishes the background, including terrain, preparation, and deployment. He then narrates the battles; the general flow of events with details of individual actions and heroism and the ‘butcher’s bill’ for each battle. Bull briefly analyses the outcomes. The picture that Bull draws is one of intense and often chaotic and desperate combat with the focus very much on the soldiers and what they endured. In his concluding analysis, Bull argues that even with the ‘new’ tactics used in 1918, the cost of attacking still proved expensive, much to Ludendorff’s surprise and chagrin when his strategic plan broke down. As for the British, Bull notes that they had been on a ’learning curve’ throughout the war and deployed tactics gleaned from the French and Germans, so that by 1918, their tactics were convergent with the Germans. He also argues against the notion that the British fielded a genuine conscript army, which might surprise some readers. Bull finishes by highlighting the continuation of tactics developed in 1918, particularly small unit tactics, some of which still apply in today’s warfare.
I think the purpose of Osprey books in these eighty pages or so survey formats is to satisfy an itch for readers who want a general survey, while pointing the way for those who want to read more into the subject. Stephen Bull succeeds on both counts. He covers the fighting on the ground in 1918, noting the developments throughout the war that led to tactical continuity and changes. In a sometimes uneven text, however, Bull lingers perhaps too long on pre-1918 background, squeezing the narrative sections, which he writes very well. Nevertheless, Bull packs enough into his book, including some controversial arguments, that you find yourself checking through his bibliography for further reading. All in all, this is an entertaining and informative work, well supported by Osprey’s usual high quality artwork and photograph selection. Students of World War I and military history will enjoy it.
by RNS | Aug 26, 2024 | Beating Tsundoku
Angus Konstam, British Lend-Lease Warships 1940-45 (Osprey, 2024)
It is a commonly held belief that Britain was unprepared for the war that descended on it in September 1939. This was apparent in almost all facets of Britain’s defence, from an undermanned and outgunned army to a barely adequate air force. Strategically speaking, however, it was at sea where the situation soon became desperate as vital Atlantic convoys fell prey to the U-boat wolfpacks. Britain needed convoy escort warships and turned to the United States to get them. Naval historian Angus Konstam narrates that story in this brief survey and describes the ships that arrived in the nick of time.
Konstam begins by highlighting Churchill’s need to protect the Atlantic convoys that had become easy pickings for German U-boats. Britain had launched a shipbuilding programme, but that would take time the country might not have; therefore, Churchill begged the Americans to lend him some destroyers. The origins of those destroyers are Konstam’s next port of call, and he provides a potted history of the US destroyer programme from WWI through to the outbreak of the Second World War. To get the destroyers from an isolationist United States, Churchill had to trade some military bases for fifty obsolete warships split between the Royal Navy and the Royal Canadian Navy. The transfer began in September 1940.
The transferred destroyers arrived in England for upgrades to make them serviceable for the fight ahead. Konstam describes the destroyers, noting their class and name changes into their new service. He adds that the US transferred other ships, mostly frigates, as the war dragged on. Once in RN hands, the ships were modified for purpose, some more than others, then they were deployed to one of three operational commands: Rosyth Escort, Western Approaches, and the 1st Minelaying Squadron. Konstam examines the capabilities of the Lend-Lease destroyers. Their main purpose was detecting and combating submarines, which meant adding Asdic to find the U-boats and depth charges to sink them. They also maintained guns for hitting surface targets when required. As an old destroyer sailor, I was amused at Konstam’s depiction of the crews of the destroyers hating life on board; the crews of the Captain-class frigates, on the other hand, lived in relative luxury by comparison. Konstam closes with on overview of the Lend-Lease ships in action, including the St Nazaire raid and HMS Campbeltown, formerly the USS Buchanan. However, that was an atypical use of a Lend-Lease ship and Konstam narrates the more typical adventures of the ill-fated HMS Stanley and HMS Bentinck as they tackled the U-boats. A list of ships in their groups completes Konstam’s survey.
Lend-Lease ships are probably not the sexiest naval topic to write about, but Konstam does a good job of describing them and their history. The introduction is a wee bit long when more room could have been used to extend the narrative of how these ships performed and what it was like to serve on them, though the latter aspect is at least included, which many books of this nature omit. Nevertheless, Konstam has written a neat and tidy overview, and he was assisted admirably by Osprey’s usual high quality artwork and many photographs of the ships. Naval history students of World War II will enjoy this work as will those interested in the submarine campaign in the unforgiving Atlantic.
by RNS | Aug 20, 2024 | Beating Tsundoku
Shlomo Aloni, Yom Kippur War 1973 (Osprey, 2024)
We tend to assume that the Israeli Air Force (ILAF) rules the Middle-Eastern skies, and that they always have. After all, it acts with impunity in current conflicts and famously destroyed the Arab air forces in the 1967 Six Day War. But that has not always been the case. In Yom Kippur War 1973, Shlomo Aloni describes and analyses an Israeli Air Force set up for the wrong war and one that struggled to adapt to changing wartime conditions.
Aloni lays the groundwork with a brief narrative of how the conflict between Egypt and Israel had simmered and flared after the 1967 Six Day War to the Egyptian-Syrian invasion of Israel in October 1973. He then compares the aerial capabilities of the respective combatants. The Egyptians and Syrians had re-equipped their air forces and reorganised their defences to avoid another 1967-style humiliation, but that also limited their offensive options. Opting for ground to air defences along the front supported by the air force in the rear appeared to be their best strategy. Forewarned of Egypt’s plans for war, the Israelis planned accordingly and increased the number and quality of their warplanes. But their planes lacked electronic warfare protection and suitable weapon systems. Aloni considers the strategic objectives for the three combatants and the orders of battle through which they intended to achieve them. He notes that Egyptian and Syrian air forces were predicated on defending initial gains on the ground, while the Israeli air force was offensive rather than defensive.
On 6 October 1973, the Egyptian and Syrians attacked the alerted but still not quite deployed Israelis. Aloni switches to narrating operations as the war unfolded. He tells how the Israelis were caught on the hop, losing valuable time and ground. Aloni argues that the ILAF’s impact was minimal on the first day. On Day 2, the Israelis launched Operation Challenge then Operation Model against the Syrians in a still controversial change of plan. Some argue that Model was a disaster for the ILAF, but Aloni disagrees, contending that it was neither a success nor a failure but was a wasted effort. The ILAF actions against the Egyptians also proved inconclusive. And so, Aloni’s narrative proceeds on a day by day track, with Aloni describing the action in detail and his analysis of events. By Day 7, he notes, the ILAF claimed it had suffered considerable attrition, but in reality, it had not. Nevertheless, the claim sparked a new and final phase of the war that lasted eleven days and swung decisively towards an Israeli victory. In his final analysis, Aloni argues that the ILAF failed to realise its pre-war planning and had to adapt to realities on the ground. Despite that, Aloni contends, the ILAF did not achieve most of its strategic goals even as they changed to suit the situation. But Aloni concludes that the ILAF succeeded in reforming the Syrian and Egyptian air forces and those countries’ strategic aims in the war.
Shlomo Aloni has written an illuminating and sometimes surprising survey of the air war in 1973. His overview of the combatants, including their strengths and weaknesses, lays out an efficient prelude to the action that he narrates in the second half of the book. And, while the narrative is pitched mostly at the operational level, and is therefore sometimes quite dry, Aloni intersperses that with some fascinating accounts from the men who flew the aircraft. He is ably supported by Osprey’s usual high quality maps, artwork, and photographs. However, Aloni’s story is almost exclusively concerned with the ILAF, with all the problems that entails, and it would be interesting to read a companion volume told from the other side. Nevertheless, Aloni’s book will find a ready audience in students of the Arab-Israeli wars and enthusiasts of air warfare in general.
by RNS | Aug 13, 2024 | Beating Tsundoku
David Greentree, Crusader vs M13/40 (Osprey, 2024)
When you picture tank duels in the Western Desert during World War II, my bet is that you do not conjure up British Crusaders fighting Italian M13/40s. You may also believe the myth that the Italian tanks were weak and as likely to run as stand and fight. Some British tank commanders thought that too, but as David Greentree highlights in this new volume in Osprey’s Duel series, the truth was quite different.
Greentree notes that the M13/40 was more than capable of holding its own against the early model Crusader, which had an inferior engine, a defective water pump, a weak gun, and was prone to throwing a track. It would not be until the Grant and Sherman arrived before the Italian tank became overmatched. Greentree explains that the British were late to the show when it came to realising the potential of tanks, and they opted for many designs over a few good ones. From that emerged the Crusader as a cruiser tank, though one with numerous problems and difficult to operate. The Italians initially focused on tankettes over tanks. Their first medium tank was the M11/39 but was soon superseded by the M13/40 then the M14/41 and other models. Greentree then compares technical specifications: ammunition, armour (with the M13/40 sadly lacking in that department), mobility, vision, and communications (the latter reads like an afterthought on both tanks).
Moving on to doctrine, Greentree laments the British lack of a clear plan on how to use tanks. The concept of combined arms was a notion that escaped them in practice, and the old cavalry mentality hindered development – the Axis forces would teach them the hard way. By 1938, writes Greentree, the Italians had adopted a mobile warfare doctrine that fostered combined arms divisions incorporating M13/40 tanks. Greentree also compares training and organisation before describing the action in the desert. He begins that with the Italian army under pressure then destroyed in February 1941. In the German supported fightback, the M13/40s suffered from mechanical issues under desert conditions. Combat wore down the tanks mechanically, and they suffered under British counterattacks, including a substantial contingent of Crusader tanks. It should be noted here that Greentree discusses the overall tank forces rather than duels between Crusaders and M13/40s. However, he emphasises actions between those tanks in his accounts of Operation Crusader, the Battle of Gazala, and the Second Battle of El Alamein – his descriptions of close combat are particularly illuminating. In his final analysis, Greentree argues that the Italian medium tanks were a match for the high maintenance Crusaders, but as the tide turned in the desert, the Italians found themselves outgunned and susceptible to miscommunications with their German allies, resulting in almost inevitable defeat.
Crusader vs M13/40 is an interesting addition to Osprey’s Duel series. Greentree’s survey opens the vista of the desert war for those who are only familiar with the Afrika Korps and its headline grabbing heavy tanks. The fighting between these medium tanks was a much closer affair, though Greentree makes it clear that tanks alone were rarely successful on the desert battlefield. He also highlights how a tank was not a self-contained war machine but one that relied on a support network on and off the battlefield. Greentree’s well-written combat descriptions are neatly woven into the technical aspects of these medium tanks, and enthusiasts of tank warfare and the desert war will enjoy this book.
