Book Review: Vietnam and Australia: History, Documents, Interpretations. University Study Group on Vietnam, Vietnam and Australia: History, Documents, Interpretations (Gladesville, NSW: University Study Group on Vietnam, 1966)

Posted on September 15, 2026 by Guru PIG

There are books which we read because they provide the best available history of a subject, and there are books which remain worth reading because they tell us something about the period in which they were written. Vietnam and Australia: History, Documents, Interpretations falls very firmly into the second category. I came across my copy almost by accident in a Salvos op shop, which is one of the pleasures of rummaging through second hand bookshelves, since occasionally something rather more interesting than the usual collection of forgotten bestsellers and outdated travel guides emerges from among them. In this case the discovery was a particularly worthwhile one, because this rather unassuming volume provides a fascinating window into the Australian debate over Vietnam at the very moment that debate was gathering momentum. Indeed, the debate on conscription I lived through. and fortunately my marble didn’t fall.

Produced by the University Study Group on Vietnam and published in 1966, the book appeared at precisely the moment when Australia’s involvement in Vietnam was changing from a comparatively limited commitment into a substantial military, political and social issue. The Australian War Memorial catalogue records the volume as a 150 page monograph, complete with map and bibliography, published by the Group at Gladesville in New South Wales.¹ The timing of its publication is critical to understanding both its strengths and its limitations, since its authors were attempting to explain a war whose outcome was unknown and whose consequences for Australia were only beginning to become apparent.

The University Study Group on Vietnam had been formed by academics associated with the University of New South Wales in the middle of 1965, against the background of the Australian Government’s decision to commit combat troops to South Vietnam.² The group belonged to a broader intellectual response to the war in which academics, clergy, students, political activists and others increasingly questioned whether the official explanation of events provided Australians with sufficient historical context to understand why their country was becoming involved in another Asian conflict. The purpose of the book was therefore educational as much as political. Its authors sought to place historical information, documents and differing interpretations before Australian readers so that the debate about Vietnam could proceed from something more substantial than government statements, newspaper headlines and the increasingly rigid political positions surrounding the war.³

That objective gives the book a rather different character from the enormous body of Vietnam War literature which subsequently appeared. This is not primarily a battlefield history and anyone looking for a detailed account of Australian operations will find relatively little here. The book instead begins by attempting to explain Vietnam itself, moving through Vietnamese history, French colonialism, the Second World War, the struggle against France, the Geneva settlement, the development of South Vietnam and the emergence of renewed insurgency before turning more directly towards Australian involvement. Contemporary descriptions of the contents confirm this broad chronological structure, extending from Vietnamese history before the colonial period through French rule and the conflicts of the twentieth century to Australia’s commitment.⁴

This historical approach was particularly important in 1966 because much of the public justification for Australian involvement depended upon presenting the conflict within the framework of international communism and the strategic problems of the Cold War. The Study Group instead encouraged readers to consider Vietnamese nationalism, colonialism and the consequences of the French war as essential parts of the explanation. This does not mean that communist ideology becomes irrelevant within its interpretation, but it does mean that Vietnamese communism is placed within a much longer struggle over colonialism, nationalism and political authority. From the perspective of later scholarship this may appear fairly conventional, yet it was considerably more challenging when presented to Australian readers during the rapid expansion of the war.

The use of documents is one of the book’s most interesting features. Rather than asking readers simply to accept the authors’ interpretation, the volume attempts to provide material from which political arguments and historical claims can be examined. This is one reason the Australian War Memorial catalogue classifies the work not merely under the history of Australian and Vietnamese relations, but also among sources relating to the conflict.⁵ The result is not a neutral documentary collection, since the selection and arrangement of documents inevitably influence the conclusions which readers are encouraged to reach, but the attempt to combine historical narrative with documentary evidence gives the book greater substance than a simple political pamphlet.

At the same time, there is little point pretending that the volume is politically detached. It emerged from an academic environment increasingly critical of the assumptions behind Australian participation in Vietnam, and the organisation responsible for it regarded better public understanding as a means through which Australian policy might be questioned. Subsequent research into Australian peace activism identifies the Study Group as part of the intellectual mobilisation surrounding Vietnam and demonstrates the increasing involvement of academics in public discussion of the conflict.⁶ This perspective is evident throughout the project and needs to be recognised when using the book as a historical source.

Recognising that perspective, however, is not the same thing as dismissing the book as propaganda. One of its more impressive qualities is precisely its attempt to support political criticism through history and documentation rather than relying solely upon moral outrage. Its authors believed that the origins of the conflict mattered, that Vietnamese history mattered, and that Australian citizens should understand the assumptions upon which their government’s policy rested. Whether one agrees with their conclusions or not, this represents a serious attempt to challenge policy through historical argument.

There are nevertheless significant limitations when the book is judged from the perspective of six decades of subsequent scholarship. The authors could not know what would happen after 1966, which means that virtually everything that later became central to popular understanding of the Vietnam War lay in their future. The Tet Offensive, the expansion of the Australian antiwar movement, the moratorium campaigns, the progressive withdrawal of Australian forces, the Paris negotiations, the collapse of South Vietnam in 1975 and the subsequent opening of Vietnamese, American, Australian and other archival collections were unavailable to them. Nor could they benefit from the enormous body of military, diplomatic, political and social history produced after the war. Their interpretation therefore represents an argument made from inside the conflict rather than a retrospective explanation of it.

This becomes particularly important when considering the internal politics of South Vietnam and North Vietnam. Later scholarship has considerably complicated interpretations that treated the conflict principally as either foreign aggression or national liberation. Vietnamese political divisions, regional loyalties, religious movements, competing nationalisms, communist organisation and the agency of successive governments in Saigon all require greater attention than was generally available in Australian writing during the middle 1960s. The political failures of South Vietnam were certainly substantial, but later research has also made it much harder to reduce the Republic of Vietnam simply to an American creation lacking any independent political existence. Equally, recognising the nationalist component of Vietnamese communism should not obscure the authoritarian character of the communist state or the importance of ideological commitment to its leadership.

The treatment of Australian policy also needs to be read in the context of the time. Australian involvement cannot adequately be explained solely through the battlefield situation in Vietnam. Concerns about Indonesia, memories of the Malayan Emergency and Confrontation, the importance attached to the American alliance, perceptions of Chinese power, the experience of earlier Asian conflicts and the strategic assumptions associated with forward defence all influenced Australian decision making. Later historical work has provided a much richer picture of these calculations than could reasonably have been expected from a study published in 1966. The book remains valuable because it demonstrates how those policies were being questioned while they were being implemented, but it should not now be treated as the final word on why Australia entered the war.

There is also an unavoidable imbalance created by the circumstances of publication. The authors possessed much more information about Western governments than they did about decision making in Hanoi or within the communist movement in South Vietnam. This was a common problem in contemporary Western criticism of the war. American and Australian policies could be scrutinised through parliamentary debates, newspapers, official statements and an expanding body of public documentation, while communist decision making remained considerably less accessible. The resulting interpretation could therefore subject Western claims to intense criticism while sometimes accepting opposing claims with less opportunity for equivalent examination. This is not necessarily evidence of deliberate distortion, but it is a methodological limitation which modern readers need to recognise.

Where the book becomes particularly valuable today is as a primary source for the history of Australia rather than simply as a history of Vietnam. It demonstrates that serious criticism of Australian involvement did not suddenly appear with the great moratorium demonstrations at the end of the decade. Academics were already organising, publishing and attempting to influence public discussion during 1965 and 1966. Studies of the Australian peace and antiwar movements consequently continue to identify organisations such as the University Study Group when examining the development of organised opposition to the war.⁷ The book captures an important stage at which criticism of Australian policy was moving beyond established political organisations and becoming part of a much wider public and intellectual debate.

There is something else which makes the book worth reading. We know how the Vietnam War ended, while its authors did not. That difference fundamentally changes the reading experience. Every assessment of military intervention, Vietnamese politics, American strategy and Australian policy was being made without knowledge of the eventual outcome. Arguments which now appear remarkably perceptive sit beside others which subsequent events exposed as incomplete or mistaken. Rather than diminishing the book, this makes it an unusually useful historical document because it allows us to see what informed Australians could know, and what they thought that knowledge meant, at a particular moment in the war.

As a general history of the Vietnam War, therefore, Vietnam and Australia has inevitably been overtaken. Anyone seeking to understand the military operations, Vietnamese politics, American decision making or Australian combat experience now has access to vastly superior archival material and historical scholarship. The book should not be read in isolation and certainly should not be used as though historical research stopped in 1966. Its political sympathies should be recognised, its selection of documents should be treated critically, and its interpretations should be compared with the evidence which became available after the war.

Yet judging it only by what later historians discovered would rather miss the point. The real importance of Vietnam and Australia lies in its attempt to make history relevant to a contemporary political decision. Its authors believed that Australians being asked to support a war should understand something about the country in which Australian soldiers were fighting, the colonial history which preceded the conflict, the agreements which followed the French defeat, and the competing explanations for the renewed war. That remains an admirable principle regardless of whether one accepts every conclusion the Study Group reached.

I found the book most interesting when read in precisely this way. It is no longer the history of the Vietnam War that I would recommend to somebody wanting a single introduction to the conflict, and there are interpretations which require substantial qualification in light of later scholarship. As a snapshot of Australian intellectual engagement with Vietnam in 1966, however, it is fascinating. It takes us back to a time when the outcome was uncertain, Australia’s commitment was expanding and the great domestic arguments over Vietnam and conscription were still developing.

For the historian, that makes Vietnam and Australia something rather more useful than simply an old book whose scholarship has been superseded. It is both history and historical evidence, an attempt to explain Vietnam and an artefact of the Australian debate about Vietnam. Perhaps there is something rather appropriate in finding it unexpectedly on the shelves of a Salvos op shop some sixty years after its publication. What might easily have been passed over as an obscure and dated little volume instead provides a remarkably interesting window into the arguments Australians were having while Australian soldiers were actually fighting the war. Read critically and alongside later scholarship, that is ultimately where its greatest value now lies.

Footnotes

University Study Group on Vietnam, Vietnam and Australia: History, Documents, Interpretations (Gladesville, NSW: University Study Group on Vietnam, 1966), x, 150 pp.; Australian War Memorial, catalogue entry for Vietnam and Australia: History, Documents, Interpretations, call number 959.7 U58v.
Jon Piccini, Global Thought, Local Action: The New Left and the Vietnam War in Australia, discussion of the formation of the University Study Group on Vietnam in 1965 and the involvement of academics associated with the University of New South Wales.
University Study Group on Vietnam, Vietnam and Australia; Piccini, Global Thought, Local Action, discussion of academic attempts to broaden Australian public understanding of Vietnam.
University Study Group on Vietnam, Vietnam and Australia; Australian War Memorial, catalogue entry for the 1966 Gladesville edition.
Australian War Memorial, catalogue entry for Vietnam and Australia: History, Documents, Interpretations, collection LIB16929.
Piccini, Global Thought, Local Action, discussion of academic and intellectual opposition to Australian involvement in Vietnam.
See studies of the Australian peace movement and opposition to the Vietnam War for the broader development of academic and organised criticism of Australian policy during the 1960s.

Jungle Warfare – With the Australian Army in the South Pacific

Posted on June 13, 2026 by Guru PIG

Every now and again on of these war time publications surface Whilst they are not rare or valuable T zt over seventy years old that are sfill hard to find. I was pleased to pick this one up.

Jungle Warfare: With the Australian Army in the South West Pacific is a wartime Australian Army publication issued by the Australian War Memorial for the Australian Military Forces in 1944. It runs to about 208 pages and includes photographs, illustrations, colour plates and maps. It was part of a series intended to bring the war home to Australian readers, explaining what Australian soldiers were facing in New Guinea’s jungle, mountains, swamps and kunai country.

Its greatest strength is immediacy. This is not a detached post war academic history. It is a wartime account, written close to events and shaped by men who had either seen the fighting or were writing for an audience still living through the war. That gives the book a strong period voice. The jungle is not treated simply as background scenery. It becomes one of the central enemies: heat, rain, mud, disease, exhaustion, supply problems and visibility all shape the fighting. In that sense, the book captures something essential about the Australian experience in the South West Pacific.

The book is also valuable because it reflects how Australians wanted the campaign understood at the time. It presents the jungle war as a test of endurance, adaptation and national character. The Australian soldier is shown as tough, practical and capable of learning quickly. That broadly matches later historical arguments that the Australian Army had to transform itself between 1941 and 1945 into a force better suited to jungle warfare, though later scholarship naturally treats that process with more distance and analysis. Adrian Threlfall’s work on Australian jungle warfare doctrine and training is useful here, as it shows how large and difficult that institutional learning process really was.

Its weakness is also obvious. Because it is a wartime publication, it is not neutral. It is patriotic, selective and shaped by censorship, morale building and official purpose. The Japanese are not examined with much depth, and the wider Allied and Papuan contribution can feel underdeveloped by modern standards. It should not be read as a complete operational history of the South West Pacific campaigns. It is better read as a primary source: a record of how the Australian Army presented jungle warfare to Australians while the war was still being fought.

For the wargamer, it is particularly useful. The descriptions of terrain, movement, fatigue, patrol work, supply, ambush, small unit action and the sheer difficulty of command in close country all offer more design value than a simple order of battle. It reminds the reader that jungle warfare was not just ordinary infantry combat with trees added. Visibility, uncertainty, exhaustion and the breakdown of neat control were central to the experience.

Overall, Jungle Warfare is a valuable and evocative wartime source. It is not the final word on the Australian Army in the South West Pacific, but it is an excellent period document and a useful companion to later academic histories. Read critically, it offers both atmosphere and insight. Read uncritically, it risks becoming only a heroic narrative. Its real value lies somewhere between the two.

There were eleven in the series which includes:
Active Service: With Australia in the Middle East — 1941
Soldiering On: The Australian Army at Home and Overseas — 1942
RAAF Log — 1943
Khaki and Green: With the Australian Army at Home and Overseas — 1943
RAAF Saga — 1944
Jungle Warfare: With the Australian Army in the South West Pacific — 1944
Stand Easy: After the Defeat of Japan 1945 — 1945
As You Were — 1946
As You Were — 1947
As You Were — 1948
As You Were — 1949

The Australian reader interested in WW2 hisfory should really have as many of these as the can get in their collection. This one was picked up for AU$5.95.

Royal Australian Navy 1939–1945 – a review

Posted on June 4, 2026 by Guru PIG

This commemorative volume Royal Australian Navy 1939–1945, part of the Australians in the Pacific War series produced by the Australian Department of Veterans’ Affairs, serves as an accessible introduction to the wartime experience of the Royal Australian Navy rather than a detailed operational history. As part of a broader series designed to introduce Australians to the major campaigns, services, and experiences of the Pacific War, the book succeeds in presenting the RAN’s contribution in a concise and readable format. It places the Navy within the wider context of Australia’s war against Japan and reminds readers that Australian sailors were engaged across an enormous maritime theatre stretching from the Mediterranean and Indian Ocean to the South West Pacific.

One of the book’s strengths is its balance between operational narrative and human experience. The authors avoid becoming lost in technical discussions of ships and naval administration and instead focus on the sailors themselves, their ships, and the dangers they faced. Major events such as the loss of HMAS Sydney, the fighting in the Netherlands East Indies, the sinking of HMAS Perth, convoy escort duties, amphibious support operations, and the advance through New Guinea and the Philippines are all covered in a manner accessible to general readers, albeit in a very condensed from. The volume is richly illustrated and makes effective use of photographs, maps, and contemporary images that help bring the story to life.

The book is particularly valuable in challenging the tendency of Australian popular memory to focus overwhelmingly on Kokoda, Tobruk, and the infantry experience of the war. The Pacific conflict was fundamentally a maritime war, and the survival of Australia depended upon sea communications, naval escorts, amphibious operations, and cooperation with Allied fleets. The volume reminds readers that the RAN was engaged continuously throughout the conflict and suffered significant losses. In doing so, it helps address what some naval historians have described as a broader national neglect of Australia’s naval contribution during the Pacific War.

The limitations of the work stem largely from the nature of the series itself. At just over a hundred pages, it cannot provide the depth found in the official histories of G. Hermon Gill (which is a volume I am yet to acquire) or more specialised naval studies. Major operations are necessarily condensed and readers seeking detailed analysis of strategy, command decisions, ship design, logistics, or fleet doctrine will need to look elsewhere. The narrative occasionally moves quickly across complex campaigns and assumes a level of prior knowledge that some general readers may not possess. These are understandable compromises in a commemorative publication intended for a broad audience rather than academic specialists.

What emerges most strongly from the book is the scale of the Navy’s wartime transformation. The RAN entered the war as a relatively small force closely tied to British naval traditions and emerged as a modern service operating alongside the United States Navy across the Pacific. The book effectively demonstrates how Australian warships, sailors, and naval aviators contributed far beyond what might be expected from a nation of Australia’s size. It also highlights the extraordinary demands placed upon crews who spent years at sea under constant threat from aircraft, submarines, mines, and surface attack.

Overall, Royal Australian Navy 1939–1945 is an excellent introductory history. It is not intended to replace the major scholarly works on the RAN in the Second World War, nor does it attempt to do so. Instead, it provides a clear, well-illustrated, and engaging overview that will be particularly useful for general readers, students, and wargamers seeking a concise understanding of the Navy’s role in the Pacific War. As a commemorative publication it succeeds admirably, while also encouraging readers to explore the much deeper and often underappreciated history of Australia’s naval war.

I worthwhile purchase if only for the photographs.

Gallipoli by Les Carlyon

Posted on March 20, 2026 by Guru PIG

The mammoth tome Gallipoli by Les Carlyon is one of the most useful single-volume accounts of the campaign I have ever read. It is well researched without becoming unreadable, and it manages to tie together the political decisions, the operational failures, and the experience of the men on the ground. What makes it particularly effective is the way it uses letters and diaries to keep the narrative anchored in lived experience rather than drifting into abstraction.

The book opens with the strategic thinking behind the campaign, especially the role of Winston Churchill and the push to force the Dardanelles. Carlyon makes it clear that the idea was not irrational in itself, but it was built on weak assumptions and poor intelligence. There is a consistent thread of overconfidence and a failure to properly account for Ottoman capability, which runs through the planning from the beginning.

When he turns to the landings in April 1915, particularly at ANZAC Cove and Cape Helles, the narrative shifts quickly from plan to reality. The landings were confused, badly coordinated, and immediately contested. What had been intended as a decisive entry into the peninsula became a fight just to hold on. That transition from intention to improvisation is one of the key themes running through the book.

The sections on trench life are where Carlyon is at his strongest. He does not overstate things, but the cumulative effect is clear: heat, flies, disease, lack of water, and constant pressure. Movement is limited, and the strain builds over time. The campaign becomes less about manoeuvre and more about endurance, which is an important corrective to more simplified accounts of Gallipoli.

His treatment of command is consistently critical. There is a clear sense that senior leadership struggled to adapt, that coordination was poor, and that opportunities were missed or mishandled. This is most evident in the August fighting, particularly at Lone Pine and The Nek, where tactical bravery is obvious but ultimately wasted.

The evacuation at the end of the campaign stands in sharp contrast to everything that came before. Carlyon presents it as the one phase that was properly planned and executed, and it shows. It is efficient, controlled, and largely successful, which only reinforces the failures of the earlier stages.

Overall, the book works because it keeps the scale balanced. It does not lose sight of the broader strategic picture, but it never lets that override the experience of the soldiers. It is not a theoretical study of warfare, but it does make clear how poor assumptions, weak planning, and command failure can shape the outcome of a campaign. For understanding Gallipoli in a practical and human sense, it is hard to go past. a must for any one interested in the campaign.

The tale of a military ambulance

Posted on December 23, 2025 by Guru PIG

The region in which our Nagambie home nestles is one of Australia’s greatest wine growing areas. Just five minutes away are two of the finest in Tahbilk and Mitchelton wineries. Tahbilk is one of Australia’s oldest wineries and still has the original heritage listed buildings.

A few kilometers further is Mitchelton winery in stark contrast. An extremely modern facility with luxury accommodation, day spa, award wining restaurant, and of course Cellar Door sales! None of these were the reason for our visit, although significant attention was paid to the cellar door tasting area!

The reason for our visit was to spend some time in the Aboriginal Art Gallery – the largest in Victoria and view the message stick vehicle.

Michael Butler was an Australian journalist active during the late 1960s and 1970s whose work increasingly crossed from reporting into direct cultural and political activism. Rather than writing about Aboriginal systems of law and communication from a distance, Butler chose to demonstrate them in practice. The Message Stick Vehicle was the result.

When Michael Butler acquired the old army ambulance, he transformed it into a modern carrier of the Aboriginal message stick. Inside, it held a traditional message stick given by elders, symbolising communication, safe passage, and responsibility. The choice of a military ambulance was intentional; a vehicle once used for war and injury became a tool that upheld Aboriginal tradition, law, and connection.

As Butler drove the ambulance around Australia, the vehicle became part of the message. People who met the journey painted, signed, and marked its bodywork. Rock musicians, actors, politicians, and public figures added names and symbols to the old army panels. The once uniform khaki vehicle turned into a colorful surface of protest and recognition. Among those who signed were political leaders like prime ministers Gough Whitlam and Bob Hawke, along with influential artists such as Jack Thompson, David Gulpilil, Peter Garrett, Margaret RoadKnight, all linked to the protest culture of that era.

By the end of its journeys, the former ambulance no longer represented military order or emergency response. It had become a rolling document of witness and endorsement — a message stick on wheels. Scarred, dusty, and crowded with paint and signatures, the vehicle embodied a powerful reversal: a machine built for war redeployed to carry law, memory, and recognition across the continent.

Perhaps the most famous signature.

Galarrwuy Yunupingu activist, lead singer and artist.

The vehicles full story can be found here on YouTube

Antony Beevor’s D-Day: The Battle for Normandy – a review

Posted on November 2, 2025 by Guru PIG

Antony Beevor’s D-Day: The Battle for Normandy is a highly regarded historical book that has faced some criticism, especially from academic military historians who often prioritize tactical analyses over narrative style. Its main strength lies in its engaging storytelling, which captivates a wide audience beyond just scholars. Beevor skillfully combines the overarching strategies of the campaign—from the decisive and often contentious decisions made by leaders like Eisenhower and Montgomery to Hitler’s increasingly frantic commands as the situation deteriorated—with detailed and poignant stories of soldiers and civilians caught in the turmoil. By using various archival sources, including both German and French perspectives, he reveals the often-ignored human cost of the conflict. This includes, in particular, the devastating impact on French civilians due to extensive Allied bombings, which destroyed homes and lives. His narrative style, rich in personal accounts and vivid imagery, transforms the complex Battle for Normandy into an impactful human story that reminds readers of the countless individual sacrifices made amidst the great historical events. In doing so, Beevor provides not just a chronicle of military actions but a profound exploration of shared human experiences during one of the most critical moments in history.

However, Beevor’s focus on storytelling and “human drama” detracts from the factual accuracy of historical events. For instance, his military analysis and views on key commanders, can be at times oversimplified or biased. His controversial opinions on British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, where he suggests that the British command was “sluggish,” and contributed to the Germans escaping from the Falaise Pocket are suggested by some to be a negative bias. While his detailed look at inter-Allied tensions is certainly helpful for understanding the dynamics of the war, I believe that Beevor, has overlooked a deeper analysis of the complex military and logistical issues inherent in the campaign. This lack of depth means that certain critical factors, such as supply chain difficulties and battlefield communication failures, which other, more scholarly works address with greater thoroughness, may not receive the attention they deserve. Consequently, while Beevor’s work is widely read and lauded for its readability, it prompts an essential conversation about the balance between storytelling and rigorous historical scholarship in the field of military history.

Furthermore, a common critique I have of Beevor’s work, including this one, is that while he effectively summarizes a significant amount of material and makes the story engaging for general readers, he doesn’t always provide new insights into existing knowledge. His narrative style may captivate readers and draws them into the historical events, the depth of analysis at times lacking. This is in stark contrast to his earlier work, Stalingrad, which was innovative in its use of new Soviet sources that offered fresh perspectives on the battle, but the D-Day book, despite its broad coverage and detailed accounts, does not significantly alter our understanding of the battle’s strategic outcomes or its ramifications in the larger context of World War II.

As I said this raises an interesting point about the balance between storytelling and scholarly rigor in historical writing. Despite these scholarly discussions and debates within the academic community, the book’s enduring popularity is strongly supported by its unflinching portrayal of the brutal realities of the longest and fiercest battle in the Western European campaign, which resonates with readers seeking to understand not just the events, but the human experience behind them. This connection to the reader is, in many ways, what solidifies Beevor’s place in the realm of accessible military history.

It is a good read but if you are looking at a detailed history then you might want to look elsewhere such as:

Overlord: D Day and the Battle of Normandy by Max Hastings: A comprehensive look at the battle, available in several editions.
Normandy ’44: D-Day and the Battle for France by James Holland: Combines the grand strategy with the personal experiences of those involved.
Cross-Channel Attack by Gordon A. Harrison: An official history from the U.S. Army’s series on World War II, providing an authoritative military account.
D-Day minute by minute by Jonathan Mayo: A detailed timeline of the events of June 6, 1944.
Double Cross: The True Story of the D-Day Spies by Ben MacIntyre: Focuses on the crucial intelligence and deception operations that preceded the invasion.
Bletchley Park and D-Day: the untold story of how the battle for Normandy was won by David Kenyon: Explores the critical role of codebreaking.
Forgotten: the untold story of D-Day’s Black heroes by Linda Hervieux: Highlights the contributions of African American soldiers.
A breath of freedom: the civil rights struggle, African American GIs, and Germany by Maria Höhn and Martin Klimke: Examines the experiences of African American soldiers in the aftermath of D-Day.
The cruel victory: the French Resistance, D-Day and the battle for the Vercors 1944 by Paddy Ashdown: Focuses on the French Resistance during the invasion.
D-Day, June 6, 1944: The Climactic Battle of World War II by Stephen E. Ambrose: An influential book that draws heavily on interviews with veterans.
Crusade in Europe by Dwight D. Eisenhower: A memoir from the Supreme Allied Commander that offers a firsthand perspective.

I am glad to have finally read, or rather skimmed through this, and what I read it was a good read but one I probably will not pick up again. I was looking forward to more than I received, which I know says more about my expectations rather than Beevor’s broader readership and appeal.

Blaine Harden’s “King of Spies” – a review.

Posted on October 19, 2025 by Guru PIG

Blaine Harden’s King of Spies tells the remarkable, often overlooked, true story of Donald Nichols, an American intelligence officer who became a leading U.S. spymaster in Korea for over ten years. Born into modest circumstances, Nichols was a seventh-grade dropout who initially began his career by fixing jeeps in the military, showcasing both his hands-on skills and his strong work ethic. In 1946, his life took a dramatic turn when he was recruited into the Counter Intelligence Corps and sent to Korea, a country rife with political tensions and the aftermath of war. His impressive ability to make connections and build relationships allowed him to quickly ingratiate himself with powerful figures in the region, including South Korean President Syngman Rhee, who trusted him implicitly. This unique relationship bestowed upon Nichols significant power and influence, enabling him to navigate the complexities of military and governmental protocols with ease. As a result, he was able to circumvent traditional military procedures, ultimately creating his own clandestine operations group known as “NICK,” which operated outside the regular military command structure. Nichols’ legacy would leave an indelible mark on U.S. intelligence operations in Korea and beyond, illustrating the intricate web of espionage and political maneuvering during a pivotal time in history.

Nichols’s intelligence operation was immensely successful, particularly during the Korean War. He was among the few U.S. officials who accurately predicted the North Korean invasion in 1950. During the conflict, his unit became invaluable, excelling at code-breaking, identifying targets for American bombers, and supplying critical real-time intelligence to U.S. forces. The U.S. military publicly lauded him, decorating him with the Distinguished Service Cross and other honors for his valor and resourcefulness. However, the book illuminates the darker, more brutal reality of his clandestine reign. Nichols operated without moral or legal restraint, running a world immersed in torture, executions, and extreme violence. He recruited agents from refugee camps and prisons, often sending them on reckless, fatal missions into the North. Moreover, his close ties to Rhee meant he was a knowing—and complicit—witness to the mass slaughter of tens of thousands of South Korean civilians in anti-communist purges.

Nichols’s remarkable career, marked by significant achievements and battles, came to an abrupt and shocking end in 1957. Despite his impressive accomplishments in combat, his increasingly odd, reckless, and sometimes cruel behavior ultimately became intolerable to his superiors, who struggled to understand the transformation he underwent. The U.S. military made the difficult decision to forcibly remove him from Korea and transfer him to psychiatric hospitals, first in Japan and subsequently in Florida, as they sought to address his troubling conduct. There, he was diagnosed with “deteriorating schizophrenia” and, against his will, subjected to months of electroshock therapy—an experience he believed was a deliberate attempt by the U.S. government to erase his memories and identity. Harden’s book, meticulously researched and based on newly declassified records and psychiatric notes, not only reveals the shocking tale of one man’s tragic downfall but also serves as a critical piece of narrative history, offering a disturbing and profound insight into the complex web of foreign policy issues that continue to plague the Korean Peninsula today, echoing the impact of past decisions on contemporary geopolitical challenges.

An excellent if not disturbing account of a period of history that is often ignored. Worth picking up cheaply secondhand.

“The River in the Desert” by Colonel E. G. Keogh – a review.

Posted on August 17, 2025 by Guru PIG

I picked this book up in an opportunity shop in Seymour, which is not surprising, as it was a cancelled” book for the Australian Army School of signals located in the nearby Puckapunyal army base.

Colonel E. G. Keogh’s “The River in the Desert” is a significant historical account of the British campaign in Mesopotamia during World War I. Published in 1955 for the Directorate of Military Training, the book serves as a detailed and technical examination of the conflict, particularly focusing on the operations of the 18th (Indian) Division.

Keogh not only chronicles the extensive military engagements but also delves into the socio-political dynamics that influenced British strategies in the region. As a former editor of the Australian Army Journal, Keogh brings a military-minded perspective to his writing, providing a comprehensive overview of the strategic and administrative aspects of the war in that theater.

His analysis includes firsthand accounts, logistical challenges, and the adaptation of colonial forces to the unique demands of warfare in a harsh desert landscape, thus painting a vivid picture of the complexities faced by soldiers and commanders alike. The narrative is enriched by Keogh’s insights into the broader implications of the campaign, making it an essential resource for historians and military enthusiasts striving to understand the intricacies of World War I’s lesser-known fronts.

The book is structured to analyze the Mesopotamian campaign in two distinct phases. The first part covers the period leading up to the British capitulation at Kut-el-Amara, a major defeat for the Allies that reshaped the dynamics of World War I in the region. Keogh argues that this phase was characterized by a disconnect between military strategy and political objectives, compounded by a flawed and insular administrative system that failed to adapt to the complexities of warfare in the Middle East.

His analysis is unsparing, highlighting the multifaceted failures of command and logistics that contributed to the disastrous siege and subsequent surrender. He delves into the mismanagement of resources, the lack of coherent communication among the commanders, and the inability to address the local geopolitical realities, which all played a crucial role in exacerbating the dire situation. By examining these factors in detail, Keogh provides a thorough critique that not only reveals the shortcomings of the British military leadership but also offers insight into the broader implications of their mistakes for the campaign’s outcome.

The second part of the book shifts to the period following the defeat, which ultimately saw British forces achieve victory against formidable odds. Keogh contends that in this phase, the essential elements for success—policy, strategy, and administration—were finally brought into perfect alignment after a series of critical lessons were learned from earlier setbacks. This integration allowed for a more effective and successful campaign, characterized by coordination among military and political leaders who worked tirelessly to overcome previous failures.

While the author provides a detailed military history, meticulously chronicling the battles and decision-making processes, he also raises a broader question about the overall contribution of the Mesopotamian campaign to the winning of the war as a whole. This nuanced perspective invites the reader to consider the conflict’s place within the larger scope of World War I, sparking discussions about how such campaigns can influence the direction of global conflicts.

For anyone interested in the technical and strategic side of military history, “The River in the Desert” offers a valuable and insightful look into a critical but often overlooked front of the Great War, making it a compelling read for historians and casual readers alike, as it sheds light on the complexities and intricacies involved in wartime strategy and execution.

The book has a large number of maps that make it easier to understand the text on each of the battles. This for me adds that little extra that makes the book a must have if you are interested in the Mesopotamian campaign of WW1.

Written in 1955 the language is a product of its era but despite this if you can pick it up at a reasonable price I would grab it with both hands,

“The Dawn of Modern Warfare” (The West Point Military History Series) by Thomas Griess (1986)

Posted on July 28, 2025 by Guru PIG

While specific contemporary reviews are scarce for The Dawn of Modern Warfare, part of The West Point Military History Series by Thomas Griess and published in 1986, I find the information quite useful, albeit the scholarship is somewhat out of date.

Overview: As part of a series from the United States Military Academy at West Point, this book would undoubtedly serve as a foundational text for understanding the pivotal period when warfare transitioned from its earlier forms to what we recognize as “modern.” This typically encompasses the period from the late 15th to the 18th century, a transformative era marked by significant changes in military technology, organization, strategy, and the evolving role of the state in warfare. It aims to provide a comprehensive, yet accessible, overview for students and enthusiasts of military history.

Key Themes and Content (Likely): A book of this nature would likely explore the multifaceted aspects of this military transformation in considerable detail:

The “Military Revolution”: This central concept, often attributed to figures like Michael Roberts and Geoffrey Parker, forms the backbone of the narrative. The book would delve into the profound and interconnected changes that occurred in European warfare, examining how the widespread adoption of gunpowder weapons, the professionalization of armies, and the development of more sophisticated logistics fundamentally reshaped the conduct of war. It would likely discuss the debates surrounding the timing and nature of this revolution, and its long-term implications.
Technological Advancements: The text would meticulously detail the impact of revolutionary technologies. This includes the evolution and increasing effectiveness of firearms, from early arquebuses to more standardized muskets, and the growing destructive power and tactical application of artillery. Furthermore, it would cover the development of new defensive structures, particularly the trace italienne (star fort), which necessitated new siege tactics, and significant naval innovations that expanded the reach and influence of maritime power.
Organizational Shifts: The book would trace the crucial shift from temporary, often feudal, levies to the establishment of standing armies. This involved the development of rigorous drill and discipline to ensure cohesion and effectiveness on the battlefield. It would also touch upon the nascent stages of military professionalization, including the emergence of early military academies and the formalization of officer training, laying the groundwork for institutions like West Point itself (though these developments largely predate West Point’s founding).
Strategic and Tactical Evolution: Griess’s work would analyze the new approaches to warfare that emerged. This includes the increasing complexity of siege warfare, the development of more sophisticated battle formations designed to maximize firepower and maneuver, and the growing, often decisive, importance of logistics and supply in sustaining larger armies in the field. The book would highlight how these tactical and strategic innovations were often driven by, and in turn drove, technological and organizational changes.
The Role of the State: A critical aspect would be the examination of how the evolving nature of warfare profoundly influenced the development of stronger, more centralized nation-states. The immense financial and administrative demands of maintaining professional armies and advanced weaponry compelled states to develop more efficient taxation systems, bureaucracies, and national identities, thereby intertwining military development with political and social evolution.
Key Conflicts and Figures: To illustrate these transformations, the book would likely provide detailed accounts of pivotal conflicts such as the Thirty Years’ War, the English Civil War, and the wars of Louis XIV. It would highlight the contributions and innovations of influential commanders like Gustavus Adolphus, whose tactical reforms were revolutionary; Oliver Cromwell, who professionalized the English army; and Marlborough, known for his strategic brilliance and mastery of combined arms. These case studies would serve to demonstrate the practical application of the discussed military changes.

Educational Value: Given its origin as part of a series from the United States Military Academy at West Point, The Dawn of Modern Warfare would have been designed as an authoritative, comprehensive, and pedagogically sound resource. It would emphasize clarity, factual accuracy, and a structured approach to historical analysis, making complex military concepts understandable. The “West Point Military History Series” generally aims to provide a solid, foundational understanding of military evolution, ensuring that this book serves as a valuable reference for military cadets, aspiring officers, historians, and general enthusiasts studying the roots of modern military thought and practice. Its focus on the “how” and “why” of military change makes it particularly insightful.

Limitations (Given its Age): As a book published in 1986, it’s important to consider its place within the broader historiographical landscape:

New Scholarship: Military history is a dynamic and continually evolving field. Since its publication, new research, interpretations, and debates have emerged. More recent works might offer updated perspectives on the “Military Revolution,” incorporate new archival findings, or challenge some of the prevailing theories of the 1980s. For instance, some contemporary historians might place more emphasis on social or cultural aspects of warfare, or offer different periodizations of military change.
Historiographical Context: The book would reflect the prevailing historiographical trends and interpretations of its time. While robust, it might not engage with more recent critical approaches or interdisciplinary perspectives that have become common in military history since the late 20th century. Readers seeking the absolute cutting edge of scholarship would need to supplement this text with more recent publications.

For those seeking a solid, well-structured introduction to the foundational changes that shaped modern warfare, particularly from an institutional military perspective, The Dawn of Modern Warfare by Thomas Griess from The West Point Military History Series remains a relevant and valuable historical document. While newer scholarship may offer contemporary insights and alternative interpretations, its value as a product of West Point’s historical curriculum and its comprehensive scope for its time makes it a worthy and informative addition to any military history library. It provides a strong framework for understanding the complex evolution of armed conflict into its modern form.

Any books in this series are well worth getting a hold of if the price is right. Just remember more modern scholarship can make some conclusions obsolete.

A review: “Roden Cutler, V.C.” by Colleen McCullough

Posted on July 19, 2025 by Guru PIG

Colleen McCullough’s writing usually isn’t my favorite; I often find it lengthy and wordy. However, in her first nonfiction work, she has done well. She tells the life story of a great Australian and explores what defines a man.

Colleen McCullough’s “Roden Cutler, V.C.” is a super interesting and detailed biography that dives into the life of Sir Roden Cutler, an awesome Australian war hero and former Governor of New South Wales. This book was McCullough’s first shot at non-fiction, giving us an “energetic, entertaining, and enlightening” look at a guy whose honesty and down-to-earth attitude were as impressive as all the cool stuff he achieved.

Cutler, seriously wounded, is carried from the battlefield by French prisoners of war

McCullough’s biography dives into the idea of heroism with Cutler and other Victoria Cross winners, shining a light on their selfless acts. It walks us through Cutler’s life from his childhood in Manly, to his military days in World War II, then into his diplomatic gig, and finally his time as Governor. The book really highlights his strong sense of duty, the smart choices he made, and how he could effortlessly connect with all sorts of people.

Cutler’s seen as a bit of a legend in a pretty selfish time, embodying what it means to be dedicated and principled. “Roden Cutler, V.C.” dives into Australia’s history and takes a good look at modern heroes, really making us think about whether selfless service still matters these days.

More Than Just a Biography. “Roden Cutler, V.C.” isn’t your average bio. It dives into the life of an incredible person while also chatting about what it means to be Australian, heroism, and what makes a true leader. This book is not just about history; it’s also a cool take on what really matters. I liked it.

For more information on Roden Cutler see my post here.

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Category Archives: History