“The Regulars: The American Army, 1898-1941”, by Edward M. Coffman

 

528 pages, Belknap Press, ISBN-13: 978-0674012998

American history has shown that, in times of national emergency, millions of civilians will volunteer (or be drafted) to defend their country and its institutions, but when the emergency is over they (the survivors, at any rate) will take off their uniforms and go back to the civilian world. The Regulars, however – that standing, professional army that was there to welcome the newcomers and that will remain when they have left – will always be, and it is this force that Edward M. Coffman describes in The Regulars: The American Army, 1898-1941. The Regular Army is and always has been a deeply conservative institution, in spite of the way it changed dramatically during the forty years between the end of the Spanish–American War and the beginning of World War II. During the late 19^th Century, it spent most of its time fighting skirmishes against the Indians and maintaining order in Western communities, acting for all the world as a kind of frontier constabulary. While war with Spain brought a flurry of enlistments and commissions, the war itself didn’t last long enough to put its stamp on the Regulars; the results of that war, however – imperial possessions in Cuba, Puerto Rico and the Philippines – were profound, as the Regulars found themselves in the role of an imperial military force, not unlike the British Army in India.

This period in the history of the Regulars also provided practical experience for such future American military luminaries as John J. “Black Jack” Pershing, Douglas MacArthur, George Marshall, George S. Patton, Henry “Hap” Arnold and Dwight D. Eisenhower, not unlike, one may suggest, the role played by the Mexican War for future Civil War generals. Under the leadership of Theodore Roosevelt’s Secretary of War, Elihu Root, the Army underwent a managerial revolution (believe me brother, “revolution” is not too strong a word) that pushed through a long list of much-needed reforms, especially the formation of a general staff to centralize military planning and coordinating, something the Germans had done decades before. This led to the establishment of the United States Army War College and the drastic overhaul of the United States Military Academy (West Point). However, after the end of World War I, the Army found itself in a kind of in limbo for more than a decade, its budget cut, little attention given to technical development and promotions so glacial many ambitious officers and noncoms resigned in frustration. Under FDR, however, it became clear to most military planners that storm clouds were gathering, and the mobilization that began in the late 1930s meant that the Regulars were able to be at least halfway prepared by the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor.

Coffman covers all of this briskly and with just the right amount of detail to keep one's interest without bogging-down too much. But one prime aspect of this book is the attention he gives to the wives and families of the officers and enlisted men, showing how hard army life could be on the fighters and those who support them. To be the family of an army officer in the early 20^th Century meant one (or more) transpacific voyages, lasting a month each way and living, perhaps, in Hawaii, which was being developed as the center of U.S. military and naval operations in the Pacific, or even the more exotic milieu of Manila or Tientsin. It was, in many ways, a cloistered life, and would remain so overseas well into the 1950s. Naturally (sadly), things were a good deal different for the rank and file, and even more so for non-white soldiers, as the end of World War I coincided with a strong upturn in racial bigotry and discrimination, to which Coffman also gives full consideration, comparing it to the somewhat less strained earlier situation in which black officers like Benjamin O. Davis could built a career.

Throughout The Regulars, Coffman strews anecdotes and reminiscences from many published sources and from the hundreds of interviews he conducted with those who lived through the period, and there are a great many fascinating photos, mostly of the un-posed snapshot variety, which makes them more true-to-life. The all-volunteer Army of the 21^st Century is a very different institution from that of the Regulars, and The Regulars is a must for anyone with an interest in American military history and in American history in the 20^th Century, as well.

“From Yalta to Berlin: The Cold War Struggle over Germany”, by W. R. Smyser, introduction by Paul H. Nitze

 

465 pages, Palgrave Macmillan, ISBN-13: 978-0312066055

I was just graduating high school when the Berlin Wall fell and the Cold War began to thaw at last, so reading From Yalta to Berlin: The Cold War Struggle over Germany by W. R. Smyser was peculiar, as it referred to so many events that I actually lived through (usually, I read stuff about events that concluded decades before I was born; must be getting’ old…).

Anyway, Smyser has written an excellent account of the Cold War Struggle over Germany as a whole and/or parts thereof, and anyone with even the slightest interest in German history or the Cold War will find this well-written analysis of how Germany was divided, why it remained divided and how it was reunified very worthwhile. Berlin was for much of the Cold War the front line, and Smyser does an exceptional job of making sense of a crucial element of postwar Europe, balancing the influence of a few great men – Konrad Adenauer, Joseph Stalin, Harry S. Truman, Charles de Gaulle, Lucius Clay, Ronald Reagan, Willy Brandt, Helmut Kohl and Mikhail Gorbachev – with the larger political-economic influences at work during those trying years.

He also very deftly places “The German Question” with in the larger world context, demonstrating how Allied uneasiness over Communist machinations in the Korean War led to the rearmament of Germany and its acceptance as a full-fledged member of the NATO alliance, or linking TGQ to developments in other parts of Germany and even to the Cuban Missile Crisis. With the ending of the Cold War and the fall of the Soviet Union, all of those guarded archives have been thrown open to the world, and Smyser takes full advantage of that fact, discovering new and, often, shocking information within. For example, Stalin preferred to a reunified Germany after the war, while the Western Allies opposed him because of his actions in Eastern Europe, or that Walter Ulbricht, a man I always assumed was just a dutiful Russian puppet, actually was a major player in the conflict, helping to fan it along, or that General Clay’s importance in this conflict I never truly appreciated.

And so, for anyone who lived through some of those years without knowing the full history (I’m looking in the mirror here), this book is especially enlightening, as Smyser’s style is at once lucid and persuasive, making this a joy to read.

“The Memoirs of Count Witte”, by Sergei Yulyevich Witte, translated and edited by Sidney Harcave

 

920 pages, Taylor & Francis, ISBN-13: 978-0873325714

The Memoirs of Count Witte are the diaries of one Count Sergei Yulyevich Witte, the little-known and controversial minister who served under the last two emperors of Russia, Alexander III (reigned 1881 to 1894) and his son Nicholas II (reigned 1894 to 1917). This translation by Sidney Harcave was based on the original texts of his memoirs which are held at the Bakhmeteff Archive of Russian and East European Culture of Columbia University. A huge, ungainly man – both physically and mentally, I would argue – Witte was a tireless worker in service to his Tsars and his nation, being at the best of times plain-spoken and, at the not-so-best-of times, coarse, he managed to evoke and provoke extreme characterizations in friends and enemies alike, ranging from “Russia’s John the Baptist” (according to Josef Melnik) to “Russia’s Evil Genius” (in the words of Aleksandr Mikhailovich Bezobrazov and Vladimir Mikhailovich Vonliarliarskii, amongst others). Everyone agreed that he was remarkably able, but whether or not he deserved to be compared to Jean-Baptiste Colbert (maybe), Peter the Great (doubtful) or Otto von Bismarck (closer), the jury is still out, but there can be no question that Witte was the ablest minister of the twilight years of Russian tsarism.

As for his character, there is even less agreement: many people, both high and low, saw him as a nefarious character, a power-hungry man who conspired with Jews and revolutionaries (both groups often used in the same breath) for his own purposes. There were also many people, again both high and low, who saw in him a devoted subject who, alone among the emperor’s ministers, had the ability to cope with Russia’s problems and to do so honestly, to boot, without the desire or need to fill his own pockets or indulge his own desires. The latter were closer to the mark than the former. No doubt Witte was extremely ambitious and sometimes devious, but he was devoted to Russia and the Romanov dynasty. I, for one, lean towards the Witte-as-Dude side of the argument; of all of the men who served the creaky, collapsing Russian Empire, he seemed the most honest, an assessment I have come to, not only through his memoirs, but from all of the other books I have read on Russian history (not that Nicholas II would have agreed; when Witte died in 1915, a year into the war he had the courage to speak out against for which he was branded a traitor, the last Tsar made a toast with the French ambassador in celebration). A poor way to treat the memory of this Russian Cassandra who was loyal – and ignored – until the end.

“HR GIGER ARh+”, by H.R. Giger, edited by Gaby Falk

 

96 pages, Taschen, ISBN-13: 978-3822813188

I have a bunch of these “Taschen” books, an art book publisher founded in 1980 by Benedikt Taschen in Cologne, Germany that he and his eldest daughter, Marlene, still operate. HR GIGER ARh+ is all about Hans Ruedi “H.R.” Giger, the late Swiss artist known for his biomechanical drawings and, of course, for designing the xenomorph for the never-ending Alien franchise of films (seriously, guys; just end them already). It is, in effect, a career-spanning reflection on the life and art of Giger, written by the man himself no less and, consequently, drives his original and outlandish images far beyond what the average studio could accept. As one would expect, Giger uses his wealth of technical mastery to bring to life all sorts of concepts in horrible detail (that’s a compliment, by-the-way). Worthwhile for Giger fans both dedicated and casual due to the wide variety of artwork, sculpture, photography and history, this is an incredible collection (of course, if the imagery is too much for you, I quite understand. Wimp.) This book also provides autobiographical notes, but I take those about as seriously as I take Salvador Dali’s. It’s the pictures that matter.

“The Far-Farers: A Journey from Viking Iceland to Crusader Jerusalem”, by Victoria Clark

 

460 pages, Walker Books, ISBN-13: 978-0802714220

Victoria Clark’s The Far-Farers: A Journey from Viking Iceland to Crusader Jerusalem takes its title is from Thorvald the Far-Farer, the name given an Icelandic Viking from ten centuries ago who converted to Christianity in the 990s, accompanied a missionary bishop and preached the gospel, and even made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. So fascinated by this person was Clark that she decided to do the same 1,000 years on, comparing the preoccupations of today’s Europeans to those of the 11^th Century. Cool, huh?

Clark proves to be a plucky far-farer herself, taking a cargo ship from Reykjavik to Lubeck, roughing it on trains and buses in Italy, Albania and Greece, throwing a fit of hysteria to acquire a visa into Syria and getting into Jerusalem a few months before it became a no-go area (the book was original published in 2004). But it isn’t just medieval tourist Thorvald that interests Clark, as she also follows in the footsteps of a plethora of other characters: Adalbert, Duke of Alsace and practically a saint; Otto III, Holy Roman Emperor who was elected when only 16 and died when only 21; Matilda of Tuscany, one of the most capable women ever to rule, then or now; along with a host of Popes pious and perverted, Byzantine Emperors sophisticated and simple, Arab Emirs cultured and cruel, and Christian Crusaders brave and brutal. But this is as much a modern-day travel-log as a trip into the past, and so Clark finds herself helped along the way by an almost equally-interesting assortment of modern characters: an Icelander who has a museum of phalluses; a melancholic East German devoted to magnificently medieval Quedlinburg; ebullient Italians in Bari; an amorous Syrian who chases her round Krak des Chevaliers, the great Crusader castle, and others, besides.

All this is well and good, but what really interests Clark is religion, especially the juxtaposition of its all-encompassing importance in Thorvald’s time with its dramatic decline in Western Europe today. Besides visiting churches, mosques and synagogues and sitting through not one, but two, audiences with Pope John Paul II, she also meets with committed Christians of differing persuasions: a young French monk in the ecumenical Taizé community; the Orthodox Archbishop Yannoulatos; Padre Domenico, a lone Italian priest in Antioch; and Sister Rita, a Palestinian nun. One can’t help but feel that Clark is performing a noble task, by showing oh-so-vividly just how the world has changed in 900-or-so years, both for better and for worse. But the trouble is that Clark seems to have cooked up a Grand Universal Theory before her journey and is hell-bent on proving that the 11^th Century “laid the essential groundwork for the rest of the second millennium with its eventual removal of religion from its central place”. Proving this leads to labored links, unconvincing parallels and ostrich-like reactions to the many intelligent thinkers she meets who, with remarkable courtesy, totally (and repeatedly) disagree with her.

But the moral that Clark imposes on her journey is not what makes this book so fascinating, but rather the journey itself. Stuffed with funny and almost photographically vivid portraits of the citizens of modern Europe and interwoven with startling brief lives of a clutch of formidable men and women from the past, it makes one realize just how alike humans of every time and place can be to one another, and if that isn’t a Kumbaya moment I don’t know what is.

“Splendors of Ancient Egypt”, by William H. Peck, Judith A. Ruskin and Samuel Sachs II

 

 

88 pages, Abbeville Press, ISBN-13: 978-0789204516

 

Splendors of Ancient Egypt is a very, very basic history about the land of the Nile, as readers learn some very basic facts, like the pyramids typically took about twenty years to build, or that Egyptians developed the 365-day calendar, or that scribes existed back at least around 2500 B.C. and used papyrus, or that the Egyptian language evolved to incorporate about 700 hieroglyphs, then added thousands more before becoming cursive, or that women were able to inherit property and attain rank in religious circles, sometimes also in government, as well…and many other factoids, besides. But that’s the point: this is not a detailed history of Ancient Egypt, but rather a very thin coffee-table book, full as it is with detailed photographs and illustrations of Egypt’s Pharaohs, scads of animal-headed gods and goddesses, the common people and their lives, the thousands upon thousands of artifacts that are floating around the world, the pyramids of Giza, the Sphinx, animals, tombs of different rulers, utensils, pottery, jewelry…dang. A history of this fascinating civilization, from ancient to modern Egypt, is included, as well as reconstructions of tombs, an index for fast information. But buy it for the pictures.

“The New Victorians: A Young Woman’s Challenge to the Old Feminist Order”, by Rene Denfeld

 

352 pages, Grand Central Publishing, ISBN-13: 978-0446517522

Let’s travel back to the Long Long Ago…known better as 1995 when, as a still-callow youth, I found this book, The New Victorians: A Young Woman’s Challenge to the Old Feminist Order by this person, Rene Denfeld. Rene has a website and, as far as I can tell, this is the only real political polemic that she wrote (although she has written for The New York Times Magazine, The Oregonian and the Philadelphia Inquirer, so she probably has an opinion or two of which I am not aware). Now, mind you, as of this writing this book is now 25-years-old, and so some of what she speaks of and those of whom she speaks are rather out of date…but just some, mind you, for overall, Denfeld’s critique of feminism is spot on. Her analysis of Diana Russell and Mary Koss’ inflated rape statistics is solid; she offers a strong libertarian argument against the censorship of pornography championed by Catherine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin; and she condemns the goddess worship of Mary Daly as irrelevant to the political movement and alienating to women (you just may have to go a Google some of what I just said, by-the-bye).

However, while Denfeld has done her homework on the feminists, she neglected to study the Victorian era and offers only a superficial comparison, which is unfortunate because her explanation of the failure of feminism is so good (I guess this should have been expected, considering that she uses the word “Victorian” as an epithet); I would rather she had left out the Victorian element entirely if she was unwilling to explore it. Additionally, Denfeld takes a lot of cheap shots at conservatives, calling them “archconservatives” and “right-wingers” without ever explaining – as she does meticulously with the feminists – the actions that have caused them to earn her disgust. She need not like republicans or Christians, but it crowds her work to portray them as the enemy when her focus should be the feminists and (possibly) the Victorians. In addition, she makes several suggestions at the end of the book, some of which are laughable, such as creating government-sponsored childcare (a chapter earlier she said taxes were too high; does she even understand economics?) and make abortion “simply another medical procedure” (Heaven forfend).

But all told, this is an excellent book that cogently presents and discusses some important ideas for modern equality-minded women who don’t want the baggage and restrictions – restrictions from a movement purportedly concerned with women’s freedom to choose! – that accompany modern “mainstream” feminism. The fact that many “old movement” feminists would probably hate it, despite its firm stance in favor of independence and equality for all women, illustrates just how far astray the movement has gone.

“Tanks”, by Christopher Foss

 

400 pages, Greenwich Editions, ISBN-13: 978-0862886325

What’s not to love with this title? Tanks by Christopher Foss is…a book about tanks. I mean, why screw around with a lot of superfluous subtitles, right? I have several of this kind of book – more-or-less picture books for adult Armchair Generals – bought mostly when I was younger. Within are pictures and brief descriptions of tanks, both heavy and light, which have been used since they were introduced in World War I. The opening chapter gives a nice if not overly high-level review of tank development over the years before going on to list the countries that have produced tanks and the types of tanks they have created over the years. Not a lot of detail involved here, as, for the most part, there is a single picture and a short blurb covering the tank being covered. But again this book does not present itself as a detailed encyclopedia, but rather as a nice overview of what has taken place over the years in tank development. One minor quibble is that I wish Foss had given us an overview of how the tanks being studied had performed in combat when they had been so engaged; a comparison of just how these armored behemoths actually did their jobs would have made for interesting reading. But we mustn’t forget that this is but an introduction of the tanks that are out and about today, and I believe that you will come away surprised at the number of countries that are currently producing tanks. If you are looking for detailed specs on tanks or in-depth reviews of them then this book is not for you.