Adventures In Historyland

September 21, 2016

Abstract Strings.

Acknowledgements are for the people they mention, they are a private moment between the writer of a book and someone they feel helped them get there. Perhaps that is why we might sometimes take scan over them to see if we recognise a name or catch an anecdote, but as readers often don’t give this section allot of attention. Therefore you’d think that after playing an infinitesimal part in helping Andrea Zuvich’s A Year in Stuart Britain get to bookshelves (I actually saw it on a shelf a few days back) I might have checked the acknowledgements to see if I got thanked. Well happily for everyone who thought “Hey anyone who does that is a real narcissist”, I didn’t do that. When the book arrived, I did what I normally do; I smiled at the kind and elegant dedication and did not look for my name anywhere else in it.
Many is the time I’ve briefly scanned these little chapters of generosity and gratefulness, noting names I recognise, finding interest in the strings that can connect us, generally perusing the lists of abstract names, meaningless to me yet each representing a moment in time for the author, and sometimes wondering who I would include in an acknowledgement section, then the daydream becomes more elaborate, subplots appear, the communists are chasing a defector… and I lose half a day. Moving on.
I had picked up Andrea’s “A Year” (yeah we history bloggers use first names), to pick out an entry for September. I read with interest a letter by the Earl of Argyle to the Duke of Lauderdale entitled Cessations from 1665. Bearing in mind my assistance to the author occurred early this year, and the book arrived a few months back I suddenly realised that I should have checked the acknowledgments, why? I don’t know.
My now you should have guessed that my name is in this book, to say that I’m touched, doesn’t really cover it. Because I never thought my last minute helping hand would have merited inclusion and after reading the personalised autograph I never thought to look. But if she is anything, the 17th Century Lady is a generous lady. Therefore I have written this, not specifically to yell in delight about becoming one of those abstract strings I mentioned earlier, but to congratulate Andrea on her book, and to say in reply to her generous vote of thanks; Not at all, it was a great pleasure to help.

A review of A Year in the Life of Stuart Britain will appear here very soon. But until then take it from me, it’s a good read.

Josh.

September 17, 2016

Book Review: Cowpens by Ed and Catherine Gilbert.

Series: Campaign (Book 283)
Paperback: 96 pages
Publisher: Osprey Publishing (September 20, 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1472807464

https://www.amazon.com/Cowpens-1781-American-Revolution-Campaign/dp/1472807464

I had high hopes for this book, but right off the bat I was a tad confused by the subtitle of this book. The phrase “Turning point of the American Revolution” has been used to describe so many battles that it has become so worn out as to become see through. Quite how Cowpens, a battle fought by two forces independent of the main armies, can be more of a turning point than Guilford Courthouse, or Saratoga is not adequately explained. Though we could suppose that given the outcome every American victory from 1776 onwards can claim to be the turning point. The claim at the end is that “History was made and the fate of a nation decided”, is not something I’ve associated with this fairly small battle which had more of an impact on the reputation of the British commander than the overall campaign.

The initial statements suggest the story of a battle undeservedly ignored, a story in which it is necessary to understand many preceding and parallel factors not all of which are germane to the battle itself.

A brief introduction to the aftermath of the siege of a Charleston highlights a worrying tendency to demonise Tarleton and the British legion and indeed paint the British side in a prejudicial light. It is not so much that Tarleton deserves lauding, but a more even handed approach would be a better harbinger. It is patently reckless to state that the legion “slaughtered most of those who surrendered, mutilating the wounded” and leave it at that. The curious terminology is reinforced with the mention of Gates’ being “brutally defeated” at Camden. Further on it is categorically stated that Waxhaws was out and out atrocity, utterly failing to explain the niceties of the action adequately, and that to do so would only be the work of apologists. The denigration continues when the British legion dragoons which were loyalist troops are described as not distinguishing themselves against enemies who fought back.

Unfortunatley the opening statement of the Opposing commanders section highlights a gross misunderstanding of the British army in America. Falling back on the tried and true cliche of blue blooded officers who were promoted through connections and cash (the latter part is fair enough) or their willingness to sacrifice their brutalised rankers, who fought only through fear of corporal punishment, (deeply unfair). These said dandies were also apparently out of their depth with non linear tactics. While the Americans are down home self taught Paladins. In recent years there has been a dramatic rethinking of the traditional image of stolid Redcoat vs wily patriot and its disappointing not to see it reflected here, not least to see such an uneven partiality displayed in the dissemination of a military event. The problem with all of these assertions is Tarleton himself who doesn’t come off extremely well (which is par for the course and fair enough), but whose career more or less throws all those assumptions about officers out the window.

Opposing forces are dealt with in the same curious and disappointing fashion. The Americans get a fairly decent writeup, based principally on the author’s research on the southern militia, but when turning to the British there is a distinct weakness in appraisal and conclusions. True open order tactics and light companies are mentioned but the odd mention of Grenadier companies as “Heavy Shock Infantry” wearing “helmets” is highly suspect. There is another use of the old cliche of the British being overconfident when facing militia, firing a few times and going in with the bayonet. Completely ignoring the fact that it was firm tactical doctrine to advance, take enemy volleys at distance, close to point blank range, blaze away and then charge. The battle was a small one, with just over 1,000 men on each side, allowing for the authors to examine individual battalions and junior officers, a chunk of which is taken up with informing the reader how brutal the British were to prisoners and how they forced some men to join their side (once more unfair). The Americans again get specifics and the British get tired generalisations. Not only that but I am baffled by the assertion that the 71st Highlanders as a regiment (rather than a battalion) were all but destroyed thereafter and curiously did not use facings as a result of the battle. A confusion in the writing may account for the fact that the 2nd battalion continued to serve under Cornwallis until the end of the war, and that the loss of facing colour should more probably be attributed to the natural wastage of war in the south which saw great strain put on uniformity.

The element of caricature is heightened during the retelling of the campaign where stock phrases are used to liven things up. “Hard riding Tarleton,” and “Greene the master of planning”. Not a single British officer goes without taint of atrocity to civilians, no British unit escapes being labelled as the blunt instrument used in such matters. Every American reprisal against the British and Tories is always nobly described as against troops. The authors seem to have borrowed their caracterisation from the Disney TV show swamp fox.

The battle itself is well handled with some excellent use of contemporary accounts. Although no opportunity is lost to illustrate the supposed invincibility and cruelty of the British. The authors are wise to pay only superficial attention to Tarleton’s memoir. The battle was in another author’s words a “Devil of a whipping”, the British receiving a total thrashing, principally because of poor leadership and cool headed american officers like W. Washington, Morgan and Howard.

Graham Turner handles the artwork with his usual skill and earthiness. It’s obviously been hard not to be inspired by Troiani’s painting of the action. The artist’s brief must have made interesting reading for the gripping scene of the Yankee counterattack. The artist has used Frasers Highlander’s but has opted for an identical viewpoint and general composition as Troiani. Yet has added a distant glimpse of the Continental Dragoons charging on the flank of Morgan’s 3rd line of Maryland and Delaware regulars, now making their decisive advance that would wreck Tarleton’s strike force. The artist has also inserted militiamen with the regulars.

All in all I cannot report anything but disappointment in this book, except in the description of the battle itself and the artwork. Not so much in the sense that the British should be lauded greater than the Americans, nor that Tarleton should be necessarily vaunted greater than Morgan or anyone else, but that as a military history and not a local guidebook, the authors had a responsibility to present an even accoint. As an example there is patent absurdity of twice pointing out Tarleton’s links to the slave trade and not once mentioning that this was common on all sides. This should have rendered the fact moot and irrelevant signalling its elimination from a purely military based book.

Josh.

September 9, 2016

Book Review: Samurai by Stephen Turnbull.

Hardcover: 208 pages
Publisher: Osprey Publishing (25 Aug. 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1472813723

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1472813723/ref=pd_lpo_sbs_dp_ss_2?pf_rd_p=569136327&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=1472813847&pf_rd_m=A3P5ROKL5A1OLE&pf_rd_r=Q2A2DSVFC19FJ8FNXT0R

As the author lays out in the introduction, this is a romp through Samurai History. From their origins to the Meiji restoration. Put better it’s a richly illustrated romp. It’s a showy number with a ferocious but colourful samurai on the cover and a book I would happily lay out on a coffee table. It’s small, so maybe a side table would be more appropriate but this seems to form a part of a new general hardback series by osprey, focusing on other famous warriors in history.
Turnbull can probably write a book like this in his sleep. It’s full of swashbuckling tales of samurai, Daymios, castles and battles.
It captures the flavour of the authentic samurai, while at the same time losing nothing of the colour and entertainment one associates with feudal Japan. Interspersed into the main text are interesting focus points that discuss, sword making, legends, and different points of interest. Best of all this book is superbly illustrated with contemporary Japanese woodcut and paintings. Wonderful photographs of Japanese castles and a selection of Angus McBride artwork drawn from already published titles in Osprey’s samurai catalogue. The samurai were always eager to be first into the fight, and the book speeds on into the fray, hitting all the high points such as the Gempei Wars and the invasion of Korea, of course general samurai book is complete without a chunk on the Sengoku jidai. All the attendant figures are present and correct, Taira’s, Minamoto’s, Hidéyoshi’s and Tokogowa’s not least Takamori and the drama of the Satsuma rebellion.
This is a book for fans and enthusiasts alike. I’d be so bold as to hazard that anyone who enjoys samurai history would like it in their library. It’s light reading, and doesn’t lag at all. It would serve just as well as an introduction to the subject as it would an addition to a history lover’s shelf.
All the main points of a samurai life are covered, and in pleasing symmetry all tend to interlace into one picture. A familiar one but no less detailed. As such it is an excellent quick reference, for those times when you want to find out the difference between different types of armour. Or whether one would use a yari or a naginata in a given situation, perhaps you might just want to get a quick background to the 47 Ronin or find the answer to the nagging question, whether it is appropriate to commit suicide if your boss dies?

Josh.

September 7, 2016

Sketches of Ancient Egypt: Mules to Yam.

The sound and aroma of three hundred mules was a shocking assault of noise, dust and smell. The braying line of animals were still arriving behind the arrayed ranks of Egyptians and the Yamites, when the Chiefs of Irthet, Sethu and Wawat submitted. Privy Councillor of Southern affairs, Sole companion to Pharaoh, Harkhuf had many Impressive titles with which to awe the southern Chiefs. Quite apart from the lavish goods his mules were carrying, and the glinting spears of his army, this emissary carried the writ of the King of Egypt. Yet for all that he was probably most proud of his title as Caravan Conductor (Though Wilkinson calls him Chief of Scouts). It was a difficult job, requiring initiative, sound judgment, military capability and diplomatic tact. The Egyptian state joyed in endowing multiple functions to one body, the Old Kingdom especially loved to bestow cart loads of titles on efficient bureaucrats. A conductor’s prime objective was to take caravans of trade goods to foreign nations and return with tribute, to show the flag and assert dominance, and make exchange for tokens of good will, showing Egypt’s vested interest in a country. If the recipient was not inclined to go through this formalised sucking up ritual, the conductor was always given a hefty bodyguard with which to convince him.
Harkhuf’s father had been a conductor, and though it was challenging work, it was a position of great trust, as it was also essentially a security job, and so if a man was good at it he could expect rewards commensurate with the responsibility. Harkhuf could say that in addition to his academic exploits, (he was a Nekhen Judge), he had seen much more of the world, and embarked on more adventures than many Egyptians. At first he had learned on the job, watching his father, then Harkhuf had led his own convoys to explore the desert roads, watched over by the paternal eye until, Pharaoh Merenra deemed him competent enough to make the expedition to the land of Yam without supervision. As a large part of his job was to sniff out trouble and spy out the land, he had got wind of trouble brewing in lower Nubia. This was his third expedition, but in order to avoid the hostile tribes Harkhouf had taken the desert route reaching Yam only to find the chief was off on campaign in Libya. After tracking him down and collecting extra troops he made his way back via the regular route, to overawe the troublemaking, Chiefs, who now, seeing his assembled forces and rich baggage, submitted to him.
The chief of Irthet had his people gather the herds, and from them they cut out some Bulls and young cattle for Harkhuf to take with him, perhaps as exchange for the gifts of ebony, panther skins and Ivory offered by the conductor. After they had rested the chief guided them into the highlands.
Harkhouf was a pious, fair and serious man, who never spoke nonsense but was temperate in nature, subordinates would be unlikely to fear a tongue lashing from the boss. Harkhouf was probably one of those leaders who’s gentle reprove was worse than a dozen beatings, because he treated everyone fairly.
The journey to Yam became something of an annual event to ensure good relations. And a profitable exchange of goods took place between Harkhouf and the Chief. During his fourth expedition he sent a letter back to the 8 year old Pepi II, telling him of the dancing dwarf he had obtained. The young boy was filled with excitement which spilled over the royal reserve of a king god in his return letter, which promised rich rewards if Harkhouf returned with the the diminutive hoofer alive and well.
At his death Harkhouf was interred in his own tomb, upon whose walls he wrote of his life, and promised that passers by who respect its owner would be looked on favourably from the reaches of the other world.

Sources: Lives of the Ancient Egyptians: Toby Wilkinson. The Splendour that was Egypt: Margaret Murray. Funerary inscriptions respective to subject found at reshafim.org . The Nile and Egyptian civilisation: A. Moret. Ancient Records of Egypt: James Breasted. The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt: Toby Wilkinson. Soldier of the Pharaoh: Nic Field

Thanks for reading. See you again for another adventure in Historyland. Josh.

September 2, 2016

Book Review: Zama by Mir Bahmanyar.

Paperback: 96 pages
Publisher: Osprey Publishing (22 Sept. 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1472814215
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Zama-202-BC-Hannibal-Campaign/dp/1472814215

The Battle of Zama is nowhere near as famous as the battle of Cannae. Nevertheless it is one of the most important battles in African and Mediterranean military history. It was fought on a large scale, and saw the end of the second Punic war. Which had seen Hannibal gain military ascendancy over Rome, and yet overall achieve nothing but a sting of spectacular victories without political reward. Very soon the Roman refusal to offer battle to Hannibal meant that their own skilled general’s such as Scipio were able to trounce the Carthaginians in Spain and turn the tide.

First off the author give the origins of the campaign. Unusually this includes an overview of the first Punic War and the Mercenary Revolt that saw Carthage lose its possessions in Sardinia which is interesting reading, and indeed the mercenary revolt was a key motivator in the struggle. Moving on, the beginnings and course of the 2nd Punic War are discussed up to the Invasion of Africa by Scipio and then the opposing commanders are described. This briefly touches on Hannibal’s mysterious ethnicity and wisely, given the lack of evidence, resolves on keeping an open mind and not simply ruling out a Phoenician/African mix in the great commander.

Concepts about the operational capability of the Roman army have matured over the last ten years. Nevertheless we shouldn’t let the horse bolt either. Bahmanyar puts forward a fresh and convincing example of Punic era manipular tactics, supported by two or three modern scholars. The crux is the distance required by a Roman soldier to fight in. Polybius put this as a circumference of three feet in either direction. Bahmanyar however thinks that this is only a benchmark and that once committed to a fight, Roman units deployed with 3ft intervals, would extend into an open order with up to 9 feet between soldiers and engage the enemy.
I’m going to keep an open mind about this, as the scheme has some attractions to it, but yet I feel we should remain cautious as Polybius is quite clear that he thought 3ft gaps sufficient for a “loose” formation. Given the superiority the Romans usually enjoyed over Celtic peoples who required great space with which to swing their swords, anything wider would have played to “barbarian” strengths.
The author argues that this method would allow for a freedom of movement not available in closer order. Creating the space necessary for the rotation of fighting lines that the manipular army employed. In reading I was somewhat persuaded, but given the lack of actual contemporary sources referencing this wider formation, at lest to my knowledge, I’d prefer to see this as being part of the tactical tool kit open to a Roman commander when faced with broken or hilly terrain.
Another fresh perspective on the manipular system is the observation on the famous non continuous battle lines employed by the legions. It is I think once more a theoretical (because no ancient source is cited) supposition that the “posterior” century of the maniple (there are two centuries, prior and posterior, traditionally described as forming one behind the other) would cover the intervals in the line which would normally allow the maniple to manoeuvre. Again, it’s an interesting theory, backed up by some scholars, however, because it has been traditionally established that the reserve or succeeding legionary lines formed up to cover these spaces, the idea of decreasing unit depth would at first glance seem unnecessary, once more I’d hazard to suggest that we take this as an option rather than a “factory setting”. Polybius is on record as writing that the Roman army was so successful because of its flexibility, from a single man right up to the largest unit.
Essentially we can find some fresh insights on Roman flexibility here, even if it is not perhaps as definitive as the author hopes it might be.

Bahmanyar then investigates the polyglot nature of the Carthaginian forces. Which runs as one would expect. It’s always interesting to read through opposing forces in the Punic wars, this time I was struck at how much better armed a Celtic noble would be than his average Roman counterpart, at the very least these great warriors would be accountred to a level on par with the wealthiest member of the triarii. On the whole this account credits a greater level of effectiveness than other authors attribute to Hannibal’s mercenaries.

All of this is used to visualise the battle of Zama. Before that happens there is a fairly in depth discussion of numbers, frontages and deployments; a theme that keeps cropping up during the narrative of the battle, as is common in reconstructions of ancient battles much of the author’s theories regarding the course of the action are based on deductions on a mathematical basis. The action therefore is described with logic and detail, according to assertions in tactics and deployment already made. Hannibal’s strategy is hinted at, and the possibility of a grand plan based on a favourable moment is flirted with. It would seem that Hannibal’s rather less than dazzling performance at Zama can be put down to his deciding that his army was not up to scratch. In the end the infantry fought each other to a standstill in a simplistic slogging match. Which says much for what Hannibal might have achieved for Scipio opted for a less measured straight up face to face fight. However despite both sides jealously guarding their reserves, the Carthaginian’s trademark cunning is nowhere to be seen, and though he did come close Scipio handled his army better in the end. The day was saved for Rome, and a Pyrrhic victory for Hannibal ruined, by the intervention of Scipio’s Numidian allies and the superhuman stolidity of his first line infantry.

The artwork, here provided by Peter Dennis, is full on and action packed. Putting the viewer in the middle of the action and in one scene over their heads. There are some excellent tactical and organisational diagrams covering the Roman army. And the 3D maps as usual offer a simplistic alternative to the main text, as well as giving a mental image as to the course of the battle.

Given the new theories arising, that argue that the battle was made up, new scholarship defending its factual basis is very necessary.

Josh.

August 24, 2016

Sketches of Ancient Egypt: The Privileged One.

Ancient Egyptian history is much more than just Pharaoh’s. Tomb discoveries have revealed the professional lives of many of officials, soldiers and nobles, some born into positions, some who worked their way up the ladder, most of whom are not known outside of Egyptological circles. I hope this will turn out to be a semi regular series, which I will add to as I research and discover more.

The Privileged One.

Ruins of Merenre's pyramid at Saqqara. Wikipedia. — Ruins of Merenra’s pyramid at Saqqara. Wikipedia.

Overseers and construction chiefs charged with nurturing the growth of Pharaoh Merenra’s pyramid at Saqqara were assembled and waiting with their labourers at the dockside as the flotilla of boats, rafts and lighters came into view. It was an important delivery. The sarcophagus, it’s carved lid, its attendant substructure and numerous other granite objects vital to the creation of Pharaoh’s last resting place, including the basements of the upper chamber were about to be unloaded.
Tendered by the lighters, and escorted by the boats the rafts were tied up and the hard work began. The reason for so many bosses to be present for the unloading was the man disembarking onto the dock from the principle boat.
Weni, Prince Governor of Upper Egypt was a man who knew how to get things done. He was the first commoner to hold the governorship and he had overseen the entire operation of collecting and shipping the cargo in one great expedition from Ibhat and Elephantine, an unprecedented feat until then unseen during the reign of any King.
This most trusted administrator had earned his lofty title. He had served under 3 Pharaoh’s. Starting as a young storehouse custodian under Teti, he had risen to Overseer of the robing room under Pepi I, who noticed the young Weni as a Natural organiser, with a sharp mind and good judgement. More impressive appointments had followed to the rank of Nekhen Judge, and he was soon indispensable to Pharaoh, who now had him consulting on the matters of the self contained universe of the royal Harem and the six courts of justice. This stood him in good stead when he uncovered a plot in the intrigue ridden harem. Pharoah instantly closed the lid on the investigation and Weni was ordered to investigate the matter quietly. When the Great Royal Wife Amtsi was interviewed Weni was the sole judge in the room to hear the case.
Qualifications for rank in the Old Kingdom Pharaonic system was that a man be sufficiently educated in calligraphy and mathematics. Merit, connections and loyalty was often the passport to high office. In the case of Weni, a commoner by birth, Pharaoh appointed his newest “Sole Companion” to the post of a commander in a punitive expedition against what scholars either call Bedouin, but who were known by the Egyptians as the “Sand Dwellers”. Here he put his skills as an organiser to the test, the army was a conglomeration of Egyptians, conscripts and Nubian mercenaries headed by a confusing array of princes, nobles and scribes. Weni proved a capable commander, he organised the army so that the arguments and rivalries inherent to such a force were negated, and plundering was kept to a minimum. His fleet sailed up the Red Sea while his army fixed the enemy in place, resulting in a crushing vicotry. However glamorous the dust and gore of the battlefield victories, he was unable to ensure a stable peace. Pharaoh sent him five more times, defeating the enemy each time, which raised his name to such a degree that a song was composed about his ability to defeat foes in multitudes of ways and return armies in safety.
There was no better man in Egypt to organise the transport of royal funerary goods, and this would prove the pinnacle of his career. When he came ashore everyone would have felt his searching gaze as he observed their reports. Fortunately for them he was off like the wind to Hetnub to fetch an offering table, which he duly returned with in a purpose built acacia lighter in 17 days, before hitting the road once more to oversee the construction of canals in Upper Egypt.
Soon after his appointment as Judge and Sole Companion to Pepi I, Pharaoh had bestowed on his faithful Weni a white stone tomb from Tura. Upon his death he was interred with honours and goods as befitted such a brilliant administrator. His epitaph reads true “I then, I was beloved of his [Pharaoh] father the object of the great praise of his mother, the charm of his brothers. [I] the Prince, active director of upper Egypt, the privileged one (imakhu) of Osiris, Weni”

See you again for another Adventure in Historyland, Josh.

Sources: The Splendour that was Egypt: Margaret Murray. Funerary inscriptions respective to subject found at reshafim.org . The Nile and Egyptian civilisation: A. Moret. Ancient Records of Egypt: James Breasted. The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt: Toby Wilkinson. Soldier of the Pharaoh: Nic Fields.

August 23, 2016

Book Review: Byzantine Naval Forces 1261 – 1461 by Raffaele D’Amato.

48 pages
Publisher: Osprey Publishing (22 Sept. 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1472807286

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Byzantine-Naval-Forces-1261-1461-Men-at-Arms/dp/1472807286

One of Osprey’s newest and most prolific authors, Raffaele D’Amato, focuses this study on the three “Regiments” of Byzantine marine infantry who manned the fleets of the Eastern Roman Empire for the last 300 years of its existence.

He qualifies two things, one that the name Byzantine does not reflect the fact the legacy of this state as the last vestige of Roman power in the world and two, that the reconstruction of the appearance of the troops under discussion are based principally on iconography and pictorial sources. It’s an odd and confusing paradox that the Greek Byzantines associated themselves actively as Romans, yet ironically shunned what they termed “Latins” of the west, (even those who lived in the city of Rome) who of course were not “Romans” yet were associated with the old imperial language p.

This isn’t a book about fighting prowess so much as an overview of the makeup, fighting roles and organisation of the reorganised Imperial fleet. Which in shorthand was split into heavy infantry, light infantry and rowers. These troops formed the front line in the fight against the “Latin” maritime kingdoms of Italy and the encroaching menace of the Ottoman Turks, not least serving against fellow Romans in the civil wars of the 14th century.

As one would expect in a Men at Arms title (though it can vary) we get a concise and thorough overview of operational highlights, appearance, equipment and status in society. Accompanying images detailing weapons and armour are joined with illustrations by Ukrainian painter Igor Dzis, whose highly artistic and superbly detailed work makes its Osprey debut alongside old hand Peter Dennis, who has done an excellent job portraying the richness of costume and colour.

Personally I’m very pleased to see Dzis bring this level of illustration to MAA, and although some of the paintings are a few years old, he is principally a military artist focusing on ancient and medieval subjects, (though he has illustrated books in the past), I hope more of his work appears in the future.

Josh.

August 18, 2016

Book Review: Early Iron Age Greek Warrior by Raffaele D’Amato and Andrea Salimbeti.

Paperback: 64 pages
Publisher: Osprey Publishing (25 Aug. 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1472815599

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Early-Iron-Greek-Warrior-1100-700/dp/1472815599

Warrior titles are juicier than Men at Arms ones because instead of being principally formed around the history, dress and equipment of a soldier in a given war they focus on training, day to day life and combat as well. This one suffers from the continual usage of the word Greek dark age to describe the time period, the authors have little written contemporary sources to assist them, which means that the majority of the arms, equipment and dress is necessarily a catalogue of archeological discoveries, and theories as to how they all fit together. That’s when there is archeology to discuss, where the physical evidence is lacking the authors turn to art. The paintings on Greek pottery and the carvings from buildings have always been a rich source of ancient life. And it is from these sources that the discussion on chariotry centres. Unlike in Egypt where chariots from earlier periods have been beautifully preserved, no such fortune has attended Greek archeology. Nevertheless it is a useful part of the book as it illustrates effectively the transition out of the heroic age. Chariots in Greece were less of a war machine as a vehicle from which a noble hero could get around. This seems almost typical of small states, and is in contrast to how larger near eastern empires used massed chariots. This book covers a period of transition, from the Homeric age of hero’s to the age of Lycergus and the polis hoplite, from the individual to the body and from bronze to iron. The development of the palace to the polis and the hero to the phalanx is an event lost to time, but an event covered here. The scope is quite vast for so small a book, but osprey has been getting more ambitious with its titles recently, and this will fit in well beside their other early Greek titles, being as it is the successor to their Bronze Age series which includes coverage of the Mycenaeans, Greeks and Sea People’s.
Alongside pictures of artefacts and sketches of archeological finds, Giuseppe Rava has created the colourful plate art that has been commissioned here. There is a nice nod to old osprey in the “men standing discussing weapons” scene and the storytelling in the wounded warrior returning home. Skin burnished by the Mediterranean sun seems almost real in the plate showing a Cretan warlord and his men, and the armour and equipment will doubtless give an interesting point of discussion to figure painters and writers alike.
All in all this work strives to put a little flesh on a very bony subject, there’s no denying that summaries of archeological finds are fairly dry, but the examination of the Warriors themselves (at least for me) provides interesting reading.

Josh

August 15, 2016

Ancient Sardinia: The Mediterranean Wild West.

Nuraghi of Barumini. Timeless in a timeless landscape. Wikipedia.

Part 1 : Land of the Nuraghe.

Introduction.
From about 2,000 BC onwards buildings called Nuraghe’s dotted the Sardinian landscape. Their robust archaic forms arose from hilltops and bluffs, dominating fertile plains and guarding river crossings, trade routes, ports and sacred sites across the island. Wherever there was importance connected to the land these structures castled the ancient countryside. They stood as single towers or as groups connected by ramparts, standing like mounds of perfectly manicured rubble from which protruded anything from 3 to 5 towers up to 3 stories high surrounding a larger central one. Around the Nuraghe grew hut villages with thatched conical roofs, expanding outwards in bewildering wheels of concentric roundhouses, cramped together, connected by winding lanes that snaked between the labyrinth of homes. These were sometimes protected by a town wall, but even then they tended to spill past boundaries.
The appearance of a Nuraghe, seemingly rising out of the rugged landscape, gives the impression of deep antiquity, of an organic, rough hewn civilisation, and of the land being slowly tamed. Sardinia was the beginning of the Mediterranean Wild West, & this is it’s story. Continue reading “Ancient Sardinia: The Mediterranean Wild West.”

August 14, 2016

Book Review: Alamein by Simon Ball.

Hardcover: 288 pages
Publisher: OUP Oxford (25 Aug. 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0199682038

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Alamein-Great-Battles-Simon-Ball/dp/0199682038

Not being one of the world’s great ww2 buffs, I was unsure about whether I’d enjoy the newest of Oxford University Press’ Great Battles Series. But it has proved to be a gem to read, a chatty and totally different take on, not just Alamein, but history as a weapon and the legacy of war.
In look and feel it is like the other two I’ve read, slim and black and white, with images inserted into the text. Readers wishing to get an overview of the Battle should pay close attention to the introduction. Oxford’s great Battles are not actually so much about the study of warfare but the legacy of it, how it impacted people, and how the story is remembered.

In both other titles of this series I noted that the authors had attempted to both tell the story of the battle in question, and then discuss the legacy. Simon Ball has blended the action and the analysis superbly so that you don’t really have to change gears. The author has identified the real purpose of this series and threads the course of the battle into the discussion about how El Alamein has been remembered.

This is easier that with other battles because actually before the first shots of the battle were fired, the British government were crafting the language and recording the history for use in the overall war effort.

On the 23rd of October 1942 something happened in the Egyptian desert near a railway halt called El Alamein. But as the author explains, figuring out what that “something” was is no easy feat. Not least it’s legacy. That it was a battle goes without saying, but actually two engagements preceded it, which muddy the waters as to its significance.

It propelled the British 8th Army and its commander Field Marshal Montgomery to legendary status, and recovered allied morale, starting what Churchill called the end of the beginning. But was El Alamein truly the moment when the tide turned? Or was the victory inevitable by the time Monty’s offensive went in? Was the successful outcome down to brilliant leadership, or just overwhelming superiority in force and equipment?
Was it El Alamein that really steadied the allied war effort? Or was it in fact blown far out of proportion to seem that it had?

Such are the questions we encounter as Simon Ball, takes us along the track of written and filmed sources that have crafted the popular image of perhaps the most famous obscure battle in history. From the first official histories produced by special committees formed to keep control of the narrative for propaganda, to the first films dealing with the battle to he last desert war flicks of the 20th century, right through, to the accounts of POW’s, war correspondents and Generals, soldiers and planners, all the way down to military theorists and wargamers. This is book examines the main arteries of information that crafted the idea of Alamein.

I don’t doubt that someone more informed on the subject than myself would have found more piercing insights, yet it is certainly not necessary to know much about the battle to follow the train. However this is probably not so much an introduction to the battle, and new readers should keep this in mind, but those interested in historiography and how history, not yet even cold, was seized by the various sides to help the war effort will find it an enlightening read.

It is possible that not all the questions raised are answered. The author presents the controversy in some places without offering a solution, the issue of guilt within the British Imperial forces is not quite specified though it remains a central issue. Also though the British and German dialogue is throughly examined, hinging on the idea of a faintly distasteful victory, based on crushing force than artful strategy and the gallant genius of Rommel, the Italian side doesn’t quite get a look in, (we don’t even learn the name of their senior commander), except for a survey of some of their war films (from which is gleaned their finest hour at Alamein) and the unresolved, or unexplained claims of POW’s that the Italians were crueler than the Germans and poorer soldiers. The Commonwealth narrative polarises around the Australians and New Zealanders.

Maybe some questions will go unanswered, but what is more important is that it presents us with the tools to answer them oursleves, and an undeniable picture emerges of one of the greatest and least understood battles in modern history. Seen through the paper trail its participants left behind, no other allied victory except DDay and Stalingrad attained the fame of Alamein, yet the fame was undone and constantly apologised for almost immediately. No one wanted to tarnish the legend of Rommel, there was also a humility that the unworthy 8th army with its large supply trains and heavy air support had battered the plucky Afrika Korps into defeat. The first accounts were largley informed by German POW’s and those British who had been captured, which instantly shaped the narrative against the victors.

A clear understanding of the battle itself will undoubtedly keep a reader’s head straight when delving into the muddy waters of Alamein’s afterlife. But this is a snappy, and thoughtful provoking book, that comes at the subject from an interesting and less travelled

Josh.