Caitlin's Review of The Mongol Empire: Genghis Khan, his heirs and the founding of modern China by John Man, 2014.

“1180, on a mountain in northern Mongolia: it all starts here…” When it comes to the history of Asia, one of the most common names to come to mind is that of Genghis Khan, who by the year 1206 was proclaimed ruler of all Mongols.

Born as Temujin, he who would become Genghis – the Great Kahn and founder of the Mongol empire – believed that the gods were in his favour, and the divine right to lead the Mongols to world domination fell to him. He is worshiped with a god-like status in modern-day China and Mongolia; the Mongolian parliament having him enthroned as a guardian, giant figures of Genghis staring down at his army in Holinol serving as only two examples of his legendary status, more than just tourist attractions in our modern world. Genghis transitioned, in Man’s words, “after death, to demi-god, and now to a spirit of universal harmony”, but what few people seem to realise is that Genghis was more than a simple “barbarian” (despite some simple beliefs) and that his conquests shaped the world we know today. Furthermore, what even fewer people realise is that by the death of his grandson Kublai in 1294, the size of the empire Genghis had left behind had spread. The empire of the Mongols included what Man described as habitable areas of Russia, as well as parts of Vietnam and Myanmar, Ukraine, what is now North Korea, and several failed attempts at invading Japan.

In relation to the text as a general work of literature, I must note that Man’s style of writing is one to be admired. He does not hold back on his vast knowledge of the subject, but still makes the text easy to read and understand.

John Man, an historian who holds a particular interest in Mongolian history, describes through a range of sources including “the secret history of the Mongols” (the oldest surviving piece of Mongolian literature, written after 1227) what can only be described as a fascinating period of history. Here, he follows not only how Genghis rose to power and the Mongolian relations with China during his and his heir’s time, but how the Empire Genghis shaped the map; how events influenced history and today’s societies, and how a man running for his life in 1180 became a household name.

I personally think that one of the most interesting points of information about the Mongolian empire is the fact that, like the Romans, they had spread their rule across an almost unimaginable area – though, as Rome was not built in a day, neither was it destroyed in one. On today’s maps, Mongolia is a country located between China and Russia. Despite what it once was, it is no longer the size it used to be. Although, in contrast to the empire formed by the Romans, Man states in this text that “on his death, Genghis ruled an empire four times the size of Alexander’s, twice the size of Rome’s, larger than any nation today except Russia.” That brings forth a reasonable question; what happened to the Mongols? For one, the expanded empire assimilated to other cultures, Kublai himself was – debatably – more Chinese than Mongol; it got to the point where people of Mongolian origin were no more of a Mongol than a second, third, or fourth generation New Zealander is a British citizen. Contributing factors include broken-off pieces of the Mongol empire after Genghis’s death separating themselves from the rest, or late resistance from China. Aside from that, an historian could argue that the empire expanded too quickly.

Portrait of Genghis Khan by an anonymous court painter

One interesting point which Man mentions in this text, is that the shape of modern China is in fact due to the Mongolian empire. The Great Wall of China is today located closer to the centre of the country. In the years of the Chinese emperor Qin, while the wall was built between 220-206BC, the wall was built around the Northern border of China. Why is China shaped the way it is today? John Man explains this within his text; however, in hope you will read it, I will not describe any more on the matter.
 
As for the Mongolian interactions with China, it is impossible to talk about Genghis, Kublai, or the Mongolian empire in general, without coming across Chinese history. While the Chinese today adopt Genghis as a strong part of their own history, and the Mongolian empire is a key part of the Yuan dynasty, the relationship – as you can guess – involved sieges, invasions, and claiming parts of China through interactions with (in Genghis’s case) Jin, Song, and Western Xia. Note that Tibet is also counted as a part of China due to the Mongols; Man rounds that off nicely, stating how the Chinese considered the Mongolian empire as a part of their own – to an extent – resulting in the Tibetan area taken by the Mongols being considered as a part of their own borders.

While we gain a lot of understanding about China and its relations with the Mongol empire – all of modern day China being under the Mongol Empire during Kublai Khan’s years – another particularly fascinating point is the fact that the Mongol Empire was never able to take Japan. Despite what could be described as a rush to claim Japan during Kublai’s later years and having an empire spreading to Korea, which is geographically located notably near to Japan, the Mongols never managed to spread their rule to the land of the rising sun. There were two major attempts to take Japan; the second being most notable for failing miserably after a storm destroyed the Mongol’s Korean/Chinese-built ship, although it could be argued that with Kublai’s failing health and the warriors on board were debatably unmotivated. This storm was called “kamikaze”; the divine wind. And do not worry, it’s not just you, this does in fact link to the WWII kamikaze pilots, which were named as such for the belief that they were the new “divine wind” protecting Japan’s borders.

Within the pictorial sources included in the text are several Japanese scroll paintings dating from around 1274 (at least that was when the events they recorded occurred). One of these features a Japanese warrior – Suenaga – presenting Mongolian heads to his commander. Though this was what an historian could refer to as a noteworthy loss on behalf of the Mongolian empire, which further comes down to what Man describes as “Japanese fighting” spirit as well as in the case of kamikaze having elements on their side, I respect Man’s reminder that what information on this is mainly recorded by Japanese sources. As we all know “history is recorded by the victors”. Even in the Mongol’s first attempt at invading Japan, Man uses his distinguishable writer’s flair to title chapter eighteen “burned by the rising sun” (I sincerely hope that I am not the only one to be more than mildly amused by this) as he introduces “Kublai looked outwards across the ocean” after his hunting of Song loyalists educated him and his commanders of seafaring. I personally think that both Mongol losses to Japan are intriguing. Japan had no large army, nor did it possess a navy, and as Man describes the “samurai warriors [were] more interested in chivalry than national defence.” 

Aside from major events, China, and well-known Khan’s, Man also talks about other parts of Mongolian history. This includes Ogedei Khan – who was most notable between Genghis and Kublai’s times as Khan, and interestingly enough “the women who saved the empire”. After reading this chapter, I couldn’t help but feel that National Geographic’s “exploring history: great women” special was lacking a bit of Mongolia. “In 1220, one of Genghis’s daughters…led the final assault on the Persian tower of Nishapur.” This woman, Sorkaktani, (a name which becomes distinguishable after reading this, or John Man’s other publishing titled “Kublai Khan”) was responsible for “keeping Mongolia together” and making headway for Kublai to become Khan by choosing her own children in favour over other successors. 

Basically, there is more to Mongolian history than Genghis Khan. Not that it makes the role he played any less significant. I appreciate the detail Man cares to portray; the vast list of sources (remembering that history is recorded in multiple languages, and major parts of Mongolian history are recorded in Chinese, Mongolian, and Persian, among others, so for an English speaker I must add that his thoroughness and referencing is well done) and personal experiences recorded. Imagine looking out over a valley within Mongolia from a steep hill perch where Genghis himself (supposedly) once sat.

Overall, this book – to describe in simplest form – is intriguing. From the start of the empire, to its relevance today “what the Mongols did for us” and everything in between: read this text. For historical, political, or general interest, I assure you that you will not regret it.

Caitlin

Review of Tudors - the History of England from Henry VIII to Elizabeth I by Peter Ackroyd.

Tudors is the second volume in Peter Ackroyd’s six-volume history of England, the first being “Foundation: The History of England from Its Earliest Beginnings to the Tudors”. Here Ackroyd takes a look at the Reformation of the Church in England and the reign of Henry VIII and his Tudor successors up to James VI/I.

I must confess here to being a bit of a major fan of Peter Ackroyd’s work ever since I read ‘Hawksmoor’ back in 1985, his exceptional atmospheric novel about the architect Nicholas Hawksmoor and the rebuilding of London after the Great Fire. While I am in the confessional mood, Ackroyd’s masterwork for me is ‘London: The Biography’, which stands as the book I have re-read the most, and a book I would choose to have on a desert island (if I was lucky enough to be asked).

So, with that out of the way, what can I say about ‘Tudors’?

The first thing that struck me was that even though this period is so well known, and the stories associated with Henry and his Reformation are so often told, there were still snippets of information that were fresh and fascinating in turn.

The narrative of the Tudor Dynasty reads like a novel, and it has all the heroes and villains that make great History. Ackroyd paints these characters, Cromwell, Henry VI and Anne Boleyn for example, in splendid detail, and instead of being one dimensional, each player in the story is a fully rounded person with their own distinct foibles.

Just as important however is the way Ackroyd illuminates the role of the ‘Rude’ folk, the peasants of the land. The Reformation was not really a revolution from below, as many have been, rather the English Reformation was a series of ‘personal’ breaks with Catholicism, made by Henry VIII for very pragmatic reasons. The ‘Pilgrimage of Grace’ for example highlights the depth of feeling many in Northern England had for the Monasteries and the role of the Pope in their everyday lives.

Banner of the Holy Wounds, used during the Pilgrimage of Grace

The book has a great atmosphere to it, and the violent changes of attitude Henry and others had towards the Reformation come across clearly. Henry it would seem remained a Catholic deep down all his life, but it is the story of his son, Edward, that sees the Protestant religion begin to take root.

The early death of Edward sees yet another religious ‘U’ turn, this time Mary attempts to wipe away any trace of reformist doctrine in whatever way she can, leading to her gaining the title ‘Bloody Mary' in some quarters.  

It was the daughter of Anne Boleyn and Henry that was eventually to bring some sense of order to the ravaged realm. It was to be the highly intelligent, gifted Elizabeth that was to set the nation on a path that was to eventually lead England to Empire.

With this second book in the series Peter Ackroyd has added a key work to our understanding of the Tudor period. It may not dwell on some of the legal issues (those relating to the Monasteries for example) in as much depth as some students of the period would want, but as an overview and a general History, he has produced yet another fascinating, challenging and yet charming volume. 

Tony

Review of The History of London, by Sir Walter Besant.

I have just finished this book and found the history of this wonderful city fascinating. It covers the Romans, the Saxons, and a great many more would-be conquerors!

I found the book so interesting because I could jump from one era to another; I thought the story of St. Paul's Cathedral from its inception in AD610 by the first Bishop of London, Mellitus, who built a small church on a hill inside the city wall; unfortunately, nobody knows how it was built. Was it wood or stone? How often was it altered or repaired? But we do know that it stood until 1287 when Bishop Maurice build a much more impressive building more becoming of a Cathedral and still named after St Paul the Apostle from the time it was built by Mellitus.

Then you can browse and find great tales of the first Saxon settlement and compare this to Saxon settlement number two. The people seemed to be happier under the Anglo-Saxons the second time around.

There are tales of terrible hardships: there was starvation, leprosy, fires galore (due to the material used for houses, huts, shops etc) and numerous crop failures which caused many people to die of famine. They did get some help from overseas.

The legend of Richard (Dick) Whittington is a long established tale of a fourteen-year-old boy from the country, travelling to London to 'make his fortune'.  He didn't have much luck, so decided whilst lying on the top of Highgate that he would return to the country. He then heard the bells of Bow Church which, as the legend goes, said to him 'Return again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London' - this over miles of fields. Actually, the 'Bells' were, in fact wrong because there was no 'Lord' Mayor, The Lord came later.  Bow Bells were, in fact, rung for the close of shops at Chepe.  If the Ringer was late, the Prentices would chant, 'Clarke of the Bow Bell with thy yellow lockes: in thy late ringing: thy head shall have knockes.' To which the Clerk would reply 'Children of Chepe, hold you all stille, for you shall have Bow Bell ring at your will'.

Well, in fact Richard was from a very  good family.  His father was Sir William Whittington, a knight.  He, Sir William, had a very large estate in Herefordshire called Solers Hope, and another called Pauntley in Gloucestershire.  There were three sons, one died childless and another we believe fought at Agincourt.

Richard Whittington was, indeed, just fourteen years old when he was sent to London to meet up with 'connections' his family had in the city. Quite a few well- heeled country folk travelled to join 'connections' which were relatively successful merchants in the town.

It was very unlikely, if not impossible, to become a merchant if you were born into poverty.  Richard was a gentleman, and came to be apprenticed to his cousin, Sir John Fitzwarren, mercer and merchant. Mercers were the richest merchants at the time, and Sir John was also an adventurer.  An adventurer was a merchant who owned ships.  The mercers were among the richest in the city. Sir John Fitzwarren had ships and imported (and exported) silks, satins, gold cloth, velvets and all the rich beautiful things that people, in this age of splendid costume, required.

We believe Richard was probably working for his Master John in one of his shops or maybe stalls at Chepe (the Medieval name for Cheapside).  He carried on working in trade, and unfortunately, not much is heard about 'Dick' until around 1378, when he would have been about 21 yrs old, and was in the lowest and poorest class in the wholesale mercers.  In the ensuing years, he did become rich and famous.

There are interesting stories about his Cat, but in reality, there are no facts, but the Book suggests three tales; there was a suggestion that 'Cat' was, in fact a ship - perhaps a Collier, but nobody knows for sure. But if you read this book, you can make up your own fable.

As I have said, this book has a myriad of facts (notwithstanding Whittington's Cat) that I found so intriguing; the sort of book one can pick up and dip into at any time.

Ann

A Review of Double Cross: The True Story of the D-Day Spies, by Ben MacIntyre.

"Tangle within tangle, Plot and counter-plot, ruse and treachery, Cross and double cross." Winston Churchill

In 1943, a Scottish  intelligence officer named Tar Robertson was putting the finishing touches to a "unique weapon" he had been working on for three years. A weapon so subtle it would not kill or maim, instead it could get inside the enemy's head and play games with their perception, making them think what the British wanted them to, and even do what they wanted them to do.

Sounds incredible? Well this is an incredible account of a group of the most unlikely individuals ever to come together in one cause, to defeat Adolf Hitler's German war machine. To this end, Robertson had come up with a highly secret committee that they named the "twenty committee", so called because the Roman numeral for twenty is XX or the double cross. This fascinating book had me smiling as I got to know these often funny, but always very courageous people who were willing to risk their lives to defeat possibly one of the strongest armies in history.

They were so convincing to German intelligence that one agent was awarded the Iron Cross Second Class (sanctioned by Adolf Hitler's own hand), becoming the only person to be decorated by both sides during the war (he was also awarded the MBE by Britain).

At times, some of them were so brazen in their contact with German intelligence, you would think the game was up, but without this motley crew's input, the D-Day landings could have turned into one of the War's greatest catastrophes.

If you are fascinated by the Second World War as I am, this book is a must. Incredible, at times unbelievable, often fun.

John

Following are two reviews of Richard Thomas's debut military history/timeslip novel, Forever the Colours. The WRAP Team have also interviewed Richard about the research he has done into the period and his writing processes, and you can read that over on the Present Arms page.

A modern British soldier. One very Victorian battle.

When Tommy Evans regains consciousness after being injured on the battlefield of modern-day Afghanistan, the world around him is not the same. Filled with cannon smoke, gunfire and the whinnying of horses, Tommy inexplicably finds himself transported back to 1880 – back to the eve of one of the British army’s worst defeats in the second Anglo-Afghan war: the Battle of Maiwand. Now he must find his way back home or face the very real possibility of perishing along with most of the soldiers of the 66th Foot, the Berkshires.

Freya’s Review

Forever the Colours is a fascinating blend of military historical fiction and science fiction. The story begins in the present day with the main character, Tommy Evans, fighting for the British Army in Afghanistan. The author, Richard Thomas, paints a colourful picture of life in the Army, and of the relationship between Tommy and his fellow soldiers, as well as their interaction with their officers. Tommy is very much a modern, working-class kind of guy, moderately educated but completely at home in the Army, and comfortable in the male-dominated environment. During an attack on the base, Tommy sustains a head injury. When he wakes up, he’s being transported in a horse and cart, and so begins his timeslip adventure in 1880’s Afghanistan.

Richard Thomas does a grand job of comparing and contrasting military life in the present day and in the past. We see that although life has changed in many ways, relationships were not in fact so different back then. Tommy makes friends with several rank-and-file soldiers as well as some officers, has a boxing match, gets drunk, and goes into battle, and all this is drawn with accurate historical information, conjuring up a vivid picture of nineteenth-century army life. Thomas uses common language of the day, and while some of the British accents may prove challenging for American readers, the author is skilled at explaining the wide variety of upper- and lower-class and regional differences between the officers and the men.

The last third or so of the book concentrates on the battle of Maiwand itself, and I especially loved this section, which reminded me of Cornwell’s Sharpe novels, and indeed made me want to re-read them all! The Afghan advance, the cannons, the hand-to-hand combat, the destruction, the filth and horror and confusion of battle, the retreat of the regiment, and the deaths of those Tommy had grown to know was all described in great detail.

The Maiwand Lion cast iron sculpture by George Blackall Simonds, erected in 1886. It is sometimes known locally as the Forbury Lion. The statue commemorates the young soldiers of the Berkshire Regiment who lost their lives at the battle of Maiwand in Afghanistan in 1880

It’s a fun novel with a unique twist in the timeslip element, and it’s handled very well. Tommy’s modern-day evaluation of the past techniques of warfare and his own historical knowledge of the battle enable Richard Thomas to draw comparisons between the two periods for the reader, and this provides an added bonus to what is already an interesting account of the battle. The presence of two characters called Holmes and Watson is a fun addition (Conan Doyle's Dr. Watson was wounded at the battle of Maiwand.)

The science fiction element is slight - there is no attempt made to explain why Tommy has slipped back 134 years into the past, but the author does allude to some element of reincarnation when Tommy sees characteristics of a few people from his own time period reflected in people he meets in the past. Has he somehow slipped back into the body of an ancestor of his who fought at the battle? Is he reliving a previous life? Or has he physically time-travelled to the period? Thomas leaves the question answered, but I shall just say the ending has a special twist.

I enjoyed the book, and would recommend it to anyone interested in the period, or those who love military fiction such as Cornwell’s Sharpe series, Forester’s Hornblower books, or O’Brien’s Aubrey-Maturin novels.

Freya

E/B Battery Royal Horse Artillery and the 66th Foot before the Battle of Maiwand

Barry’s Review

I really enjoyed this book as it was so different to anything I have read before. I felt Tommy's frustration at not being able to change history as no-one would listen to him. I enjoyed the piece when he managed to win some money for his friend the Lieutenant by winning the fight against the Indian champion. The author captured the flavour of the time especially with uniforms and weapons. It reminded me of the fights with the Zulus with all the chaos. Tommy admired the RSM although he saw him fall. I felt the author handled the chaos and the retreat of the regiment very well and brought it to life and I look forward to reading the next book to see what time involves him in next.

Barry

A review of Longbow, a social and military history by Robert Hardy.

I’ve had this book for a long time. I bought it way back in 1993, and in fact the first edition was published in 1976. This third edition includes an additional chapter which examines the discovery of 137 longbows and over 3,500 arrows from the Mary Rose, Henry VIII’s warship which sank in the Solent in 1545.

Written by the actor Robert Hardy, it’s a comprehensive account of the bow from its invention around 50,000 years ago, concentrating mainly on what is now known as the English longbow. It examines historical and archaeological evidence, and also looks at the presence of the bow in mythology by examining accounts of legends like Robin Hood.

The bulk of the book, however, concentrates on the time from the reign of Edward I (1272-1307) onwards, looking at the way the feudal system worked, the rise of the archer, and detailed accounts of the wars with France. Agincourt gets a chapter of its own. Hardy then looks at post-medieval use of the bow, including its use in America. There is also a detailed examination of the making of a longbow.

The final chapter looks at the finds from the Mary Rose, examining the construction of the bows found there, and the deductions that can be made from their length and strength. There are also some appendices with detailed technical considerations.

As a possible criticism, although there are some colour plates, the majority of the book is black and white, which is a shame when this hardback book appears to be marketed as a “coffee table” read. Also, Hardy is happy to pass on his personal views, such as “I find it impossible to believe that commanders of the calibre of Edward III and Henry V, and the rest, wasted the enormous potential of their infantry weapon by failing to supply their archers with enough arrows.” However, Hardy clearly knows his stuff, and because of this I’m happy to accept his opinions.

Although presented as a coffee table book, it’s a thorough, detailed account of the longbow, and should provide any student of the weapon with an in-depth investigation into the longbow’s construction and practical use.

I’ll be posting my own podcast on the longbow over the next few days, so keep your eyes (and ears) peeled!

Freya

(And Freya's podcast on the Longbow is now available here.)

Military Misdemeanours - Corruption, Incompetence, lust and downright stupidity, by Terry Crowd. A review by Chris.

It's always nice to see a QI-esque book hitting the shelves that provides an insightful look into the hidden facts of history that much of the mainstream history books leave behind. Terry Crowd's short book 'Military Misdemeanours' takes a sideswipe examination of the corruption, incompetence and downright daft things leaders, political figures and civilians have achieved throughout our history. From a witch trial that took place a few days before a Second World War engagement to a spy that was actually a transvestite, the reader is subjected to a plethora of witty and amusing anecdotes of history that should not be forgotten. The scope of research Crowd incorporates into the book is vast but what he selects to use as sources is rich. One of my personal favourites is the story of the Zimmerman Telegram - A German conspiracy plot to initiate the Mexican Goverment to invade the US in order to prohibit them from entering on the side of the allies in World War One. Although this is a story I am familiar with, Crowd provides a take on the incident that is fresh and new. This could possibly apply to many of the anecdotes throughout the book that have over time become common knowledge, but nonetheless, with the way Crowd uses the sources that are available to him, he provides a new spin on a familiar tale.

Apart from the book being slightly on the short side  it makes an interesting read on a quiet train journey.

***/3 Star

Chris

The Ebro 1938, by Chris Henry, Osprey Campaign Series 60.

These days, foreign visitors to Spain’s Ebro River are quite likely to be drawn there by the prospect of catching one of the huge Wels Catfish that populate this 565-mile long waterway.

Seventy-six years ago, thousands of young men from Germany, France, Morocco, Italy, America, Canada, Britain and Ireland were gathered along the banks of the Lower Aragon and Catalonian stretch of the river. However, these were not recreational anglers or tourists; they were part of two huge, rival Spanish armies totalling over 170,000 men involved in the longest and bloodiest battle of that country’s civil war.

The Ebro flows north to east from Cantabria to its delta near Tortosa in Catalonia where it joins the Mediterranean. Chris Henry’s account of this last great offensive operation of the Spanish Republic was originally published in 1999 and was the result of a year’s research in Spanish primary sources and archives. It remains, to my knowledge, the only English-language work on this campaign. (Please note, the map below and the photos in this post are not from the book.)

Though the Spanish Civil War started as a purely indigenous affair, beginning with a coup d’état by a group of right-wing army officers against the left-wing Popular Front coalition government of Spain’s Second Republic on 17 July 1936, it quickly captured the attention of the rest of the world; and many foreigners at the time saw it as heralding the first shots in the inevitable battle between the forces of reaction and the forces of revolution or between Fascism and Socialism.

As a consequence the governments of Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy rapidly dispatched vital military aid in the form of aircraft, artillery, tanks, troops and technicians to General Franco’s rebels, known as the Nationalists. Leon Blum’s Popular Front government in France sent a small number of French-built fighter and bomber aircraft, but internal opposition and the lack of British support pushed them toward supporting the non-intervention agreement.

The Soviet Union soon became the main source of assistance to the Republic and during the autumn of 1936 large quantities of material began to arrive in Republican ports. While many of the weapons supplied by Stalin’s regime were antiquated and virtually useless, the aircraft, such the Polikarpov ‘Chato’ I-15 biplane and ‘Mosca’ I-16 monoplane fighters and the Tupolev ‘Katiushka’SB-2 bomber were the latest Soviet models and amongst the best warplanes of the time. Soviet supplied armour was also of a high standard and the T-26 and BT-5 tanks, both fitted with a 45mm gun, were more than a match for the German Panzer 1’s and the Italian CV33/35s that formed the bulk of the Nationalist tank force.

The supply of these aircraft, tanks and artillery came with conditions, chiefly the Republic had to allow some 2 – 3,000 military advisers and technicians such as the military attaché Vladimir Efimovich Gorev, the air force commander Yakov Smushkevich, and the tank brigade commander Dmitry Pavlov varying degrees of operational and tactical control of the Republican war effort.

Soviet influence was further strengthened by the Comintern-organized and controlled supply of foreign volunteers known as the International Brigades. Whilst their military significance has been exaggerated - they formed under 20% of the Army of the Ebro in 1938 for example - they did play a key role in preventing the fall of Madrid in November 1936 and were used as ‘shock troops’ in the subsequent battles in and around the Spanish capital in 1937.

In May 1937 Dr Juan Negrin replaced Largo Caballero as Prime Minister and although he wasn’t a Communist he did support closer Republican links with the Soviet Union and broadly accepted the Spanish Communist Party military/political strategy, which was also the Soviet Union line - the importance of ‘winning the war’ the need for ‘military hierarchy and order’ and the abandonment of the ‘social revolution’ and the centralized control of the previously independent political and trade-union militias

By early summer of 1938, the prospects for the Spanish Republic looked very bleak. The whole of the northern zone with the heavy industry and iron ore of Bilbao and the coal mining region of Asturias had been lost to Franco’s Nationalists by October 1937, whilst his Aragon Offensive of March/April 1938 came to a successful conclusion on 17 April 1938 when Navarrese troops reached the Mediterranean at Vinaroz thus splitting the Republican-held territory in two.

Monument to Dr Juan Negrin

It was at this point that the Republic had somewhat of a reprieve. First of all the French/Spanish border had been re-opened on 17 March 1938 thus allowing Soviet arms supplies to flow into Catalonia via France. Secondly on 5 July 1938 Franco chose to drive eastward to the Levant with the objective of capturing the new Republican capital, Valencia rather than attacking Catalonia as his German and Italian allies advised.

So despite their recent military setbacks Prime Minister Negrin and the Chief of Staff of the Ejército Popular de la República,  Vincente Rojo decided to launch another offensive in the summer of 1938 and this is the subject of Chris Henry’s concise study.

The objectives of the Ebro Offensive were to draw-away enemy troops from the Levant Offensive, to reunite the two halves of Republican Spain and to prolong the war until what appeared to many as the inevitable general European war broke out. This war would see Republican Spain aligned with France and Britain against Franco and the Fascist states of Italy and Germany.

The Battle of the Ebro began on the night/morning of the 24/25 July 1938 when the Autonomous Army of the Ebro carried out a series of meticulously planned crossings along a 40 mile front on the southern part of the river. With the aid of some excellent maps, alongside the now familiar Osprey ‘bird’s eye’ battle views plus a selection of the author’s own battlefield photographs the reader is better able to appreciate the rugged and harsh terrain over which the two armies fought.

Initially the Republican crossing of the Ebro and westward-advance was very successful and their sappers and engineers constructed a number of pontoon-bridges at various points along the river plus a wooden bridge at Asco and eventually an iron-bridge at Flix in the north-central sector, specially built to transport armoured vehicles.

The only unsuccessful part of the Ebro crossing was at Amposta in the far south close to the sea. Here the mainly French XIV International Brigade was badly mauled by the deadly rifle fire of General Juan Yague’s Moroccan Regulares. Some 60 men of the former were either killed or captured on the west bank of the river.

One of the initial objectives of the offensive was the town of Gandesa, a pivotal road and rail hub at the centre of the front and some 12 miles west of the Ebro. By the 26 July the XI, XIII and XV International Brigades, the latter included British/Irish, American and Canadian battalions got within 400m of the town and soon a furious to-and-fro struggle ensued for possession of the commanding height known as Puig de Aliga or Hill 481 which was a mile or so east of Gandesa. The XV International Brigade had occupied the hill on 25 July but was dislodged by a battalion of the Spanish Foreign Legion on 27 July and despite several counter-attacks over the next three days both the town of Gandesa and Hill 481 remained in Nationalist hands.

By 3 August 1938 the Republican field commander Lieutenant Colonel Juan Modesto in the face of growing numbers of Nationalist reinforcements decided to switch tactics to the defensive. The Republicans were still in control of a significant bridgehead on the west bank of the Ebro most importantly a series of 600m-high peaks in the Sierra de Pandols mountain range. From this date the Battle of the Ebro developed into a bloody attritional bloodbath that highlighted both the weaknesses of Republican operational thought and the sanguinary nature of Franco’s own poco a poco (little by little) strategic vision.

As Chris Henry highlights in his book, the Republican successes in the first three days of the offensive were achieved in spite of almost no operational air cover. Not until 30 July did the Polikarpov I-16 and I-16/10 ‘Super-Moscas’ make an appearance over the front. Even as late as 7 August 1938 there were only 70 of these machines operating in the skies above the Ebro.

In sharp contrast Nationalist aircraft were interdicting the bridges and pontoons on 26 July, hindering Republican supplies and tanks from reaching their comrades on the other side of the river. Very quickly the German Condor Legion, flying the best fighter of the day the Messerschmitt Bf109B and C variants were supporting the Dornier DO-17 and Heinkel 111B and Italian S-81 and SM79 bombers attacking the bridges at Flix and Asco and flying ground-attack missions against the Republican infantry. By the end of August 1938 the Nationalists had a total force of 500 fighters and bombers, including a handful of the new Junkers JU-87A dive bombers. The outnumbered Republican air force was unable to provide anything but token resistance and many of their planes were shot-down

This Nationalist aerial response was mirrored on the ground as thousands of infantry and 500 artillery pieces of from 65mm to 260mm were hastily redeployed to the battle sector in American-made trucks.

Many of Franco’s contemporaries including Hitler, Mussolini and the chief of the Nationalist air force, General Alfredo Kindelan, were highly critical of his policy of diverting troops from other sectors to engage in meat-grinder struggles to recover ground with little or no strategic value. However, as Professor Paul Preston has remarked, Franco wanted to deny the Republic any territorial gains, whatever the cost. His overall strategic goal was the long-term consolidation of his own political power and to achieve complete dominance over the enemy.

To this end he was unwittingly helped by his opponents who had chosen to carry-out a complex manouevre across a major river - with all the potential supply problems that could entail - and with clear material deficiencies in artillery and aircraft. In light of the experience of previous Republican offensive operations, Negrin and General Rojo’s Ebro plan appears at best ill-judged and at worst militarily irresponsible.

The earlier Battles of Brunete July 1937 and Teruel December 1937 to February 1938, both strategic defeats, had already demonstrated the tactical weaknesses of the Republican Army in attack. Here, initial success gained by surprise would be lost in a series of wasteful frontal assaults against some insignificant and weakly-held enemy position which would then allow the Nationalists time to bring up reserves and to launch deadly counter-attacks with their superior aerial forces and artillery which at Brunete decimated the Republican troops spread out as they were in open country.

Like Brunete and Teruel there was no shortage of bravery shown by the Republican troops when the relentless Nationalist counter-assaults started on 3 August 1938, and Enrique Lister’s 5 Corps’ stubborn defense of Hill 666 on the Sierra de Pandols mountain range from early August 1938 to 1 November 1938 was particularly heroic, especially so when one considers the constant artillery and aerial bombardment these men would have had to have endured. In the past three years excavation work prior to the installation of wind turbines in the La Fatarrella area north-east of Gandesa has unearthed the skeletons of several Republican soldiers buried in their trenches as they provided the rearguard for their comrades to complete the retreat back across the Ebro on 16 November 1938.

The Battle of the Ebro proved very costly in terms of Nationalist casualties (Paul Preston quotes over 6,000 killed in the battle as a whole) but these were fewer than the Republican losses in men and material (Preston records 7,000 dead) and furthermore the Republic’s losses were harder to make good, particularly as the French border was closed once more. Moreover, the European war that Negrin hoped would save the Republic was avoided by Neville Chamberlain’s diplomatic decision to sacrifice Czechoslovakia to avoid war with Germany at Munich on 30 September 1938, The Republic managed to limp on until Madrid fell in March 1939 but after the failure of the Ebro offensive General Franco’s victory was assured.

Peter

Today I took the opportunity to glance over an Osprey book from 1995 called The Border Reivers by Keith Durham and Angus McBride.

Reivers wasn’t a word I was familiar with, unless you count the Reavers in the science-fiction series Firefly. And indeed, they are not dissimilar, both describing a frontier people that often live outside the laws governing ordinary men. I’ve read in the past about the Welsh Marches, meaning the border between England and Wales, but the Border Reivers in this book are the groups of raiders who lived on the Anglo-Scottish border that roughly follows the Cheviot Hills.

The book begins with a description of the border lands, and the first thing that surprised me—even though I’m originally from the UK—is that although Hadrian’s Wall runs horizontally from west to east coast, the border between Scotland and England runs north-east to south-west, not far off vertical. How did I not know that?! (Please note that the photos that follow are not from the book.)

The book describes the nature of this shifting boundary, and I have to say that, not knowing the area, the frequent use of local names is somewhat confusing, and I would have preferred a slightly clearer map (which is more detailed than the above picture, but still a little confusing.) But none the more for that, I found this fascinating, from the division of both sides of the border into East, West and Middle Marches, to the “Debateable Land” which is a small piece of land that belonged to neither side, to the description of the area as being in a “pitiful state” by the beginning of the 16th century after hundreds of years of scorched earth policies by either side.

There are plenty of photos of original leather jacks and swords with basket hilts, which I appreciated, and a discussion about the two types of fortified dwellings in the area, the tower house and the bastle. There’s also a summary of the Battles of Flodden Field (1513) and Solway Moss (1542), and I have to say that the plates in this book are delightful, being not just drawings of stationary soldiers but of scenes of both battles and of the “Day of Truce” in the 1590s, beautifully drawn and painted.

I knew little of this area before I read this book, and really enjoyed it. I’d highly recommend it if you’re interested in frontier life and the Anglo-Scottish hostility that has endured for so long.

Freya

A review of Hammer & Tickle a History of Communism told through Communist Jokes, by Ben Lewis.

Having studied aspects of communism during my academic life it would be hard to say that it has been a 'jovial' experience - Historically interesting nonetheless but not wall-to-wall with laughter a minute. But then how can you say that such a regime with dictators like Stalin at its helm was humorous? Well with Ben Lewis's book one would be hard pushed to state that communism was devoid of humour. Lewis's book is littered throughout with such wonderful and poignant gags, gaffs, cartoons and jokes that many ordinary people of the regime expressed. Some of the best jokes even come from the Stalinist period. Take this one for example...

'A clerk hears laughing behind the door of a courtroom. He opens the door. At the other end of the room, the judge is sitting on the podium convulsed in laughter.

What is so funny? asks the clerk

I just heard the funniest joke of my life' says the judge

Tell it to me

I can't

Why not?

I just sentenced someone five years of hard labour for doing that!

This is one of my favourite anekdots namely because it exemplifies the way jokes and joke-tellers were treated within the USSR. It highlights the maximalist approach adopted by historians that jokes such as these were told to ridicule the system and ultimately participated in its downfall - The Orwellian notion that 'every joke is a tiny revolution'. However it must also be stated that in stark contrast some historians assign themselves to the minimalist approach that jokes were not an efficient form of protest against a hostile political environment. Both of these arguments form the basis of Lewis's research with both sides of the argument considered. He does this succinctly by outlining an anekdot and its immediate source that it criticises or lampoons, reinforcing it alongside his superb depth of research with the debatable question - Did Jokes bring down Communism?

It could be argued by the final conclusive chapter of Lewis's book that it is hard to adopt a firm stance within either camp. Nonetheless what cannot be derided is the significance of the anekdot within twentieth century Russian culture, as it is a unique aspect of Russian history that can not be found within any other culture or historical epoch. Lewis emphasises this concept with a comparison of Nazi and Soviet jokes within the 1940's in one of the best chpaters of his book. What one can gather from this analysis is a totally different form of humour that makes it distinctly unique. I will not list any further jokes as this is part of the sparkle of reading Lewis's work. As such it is hard to find any fault with such a superb book. Go on have a laugh with communist humor. 5 stars *****

Chris