I grew up in a remarkable day and time—the 1950s—one of millions of Baby Boomers. Being born just five years after the end of World War II, it was natural to hear stories about the hardships of the war. My mother moved from Nebraska to Norfolk, Virginia to work at the naval base. All of her four brothers served in the war. My father and his two brothers also served in the war—my father in the Pacific theater. I heard how one my father’s transport ships was hit by a kamikaze pilot in the latter stages of the war; he kept a fragment of the Zero’s wing. I also heard about one of my father’s cousins who was killed in the war. Even though my grandfather died during the war, my father wasn’t allowed to go home (he learned about his father’s death six months after it occurred). I still have pictures of my father and all of my uncles in their military uniforms. My favorite picture is of my favorite Uncle Chuck sitting behind the wheel of a jeep in North Africa with a pistol holstered on his hip and a giant grin on his face (he was always grinning). It was there, in North Africa, that my Uncle Chuck met Coach Bear Bryant; they became lifelong friends. My family has been Alabama football fans ever since.
Consequently, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I was fascinated with learning more about the war. The first major history book I read in high school was John Toland’s The Last 100 Days, followed by Jean-François Steiner’s Treblinka. I was hooked. But even I must ask, “Do we really need another history book about World War II”? After all, two lists featuring World War II nonfiction works on Goodreads include 663 books (World War Two - Firsthand Accounts) and 584 books (Best World War II History) respectively. New books seem to appear almost weekly. Nevertheless, I had not yet read a single-volume overview of the entire conflict. Is such an overview even possible short of 5,000 pages? In Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945, British journalist and military historian Max Hastings has created what appears to be a rather unique version of the struggle. He gives us anecdotal accounts of the soldiers and civilians who were caught up in the conflagration and in the suffering. It is a record of the way ordinary people experienced World War II. In his introduction, the author describes his account much better than I can, given my feeble abilities:
“This is a book chiefly about human experience. Men and women from scores of nations struggled to find words to describe what happened to them in the Second World War, which transcended anything they had ever known. Many resorted to a cliché: “All hell broke loose.” Because the phrase is commonplace in eyewitness descriptions of battles, air raids, massacres and ship sinkings, later generations are tempted to shrug at its banality. Yet in an important sense the words capture the essence of what the struggle meant to hundreds of millions of people, plucked from peaceful, ordered existences to face ordeals that in many cases lasted for years, and for at least 60 million were terminated by death.”
― Max Hastings, Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945
What you quickly realize is that the world’s descent into war in 1939 was no less surreal to those involved than it seems to us now. Shortly before 1:30 in the morning on April 9, 1940, when an aide-de-camp awakened Norway’s King Haakon VII to tell him, “Majesty, we are at war!”, the king answered: “Against whom?” The entire Norwegian government, including King Haakon, fled the capital that morning for the mountains in the north. Many of the generals in charge were old men, vestiges of the First World War. Many of their weapons were even older. Defenders in Finland positioned cannons cast in 1871, firing black powder charges against the Russian invaders.
Inferno is an enormous panorama of the conflict that swept over entire continents, yet Hastings manages to keep the details in sharp focus. He covers the significant events, but also makes us witnesses to tragic scenes that happened on the margins of the global conflict because they were anything but marginal for the people who experienced them. Through anecdotes and statistics, Hastings demonstrates that the war turned the world into a cruel slaughterhouse where unimaginable acts of cruelty were committed by all sides. A few randomly chosen anecdotes from the book should suffice to give one a general idea of what Hastings has accomplished with this uncommon work of history. One can see that the core of the book lies not in the general but in the particular.
“The street is no longer measured by meters but by corpses ... Stalingrad is no longer a town. By day it is an enormous cloud of burning, blinding smoke; it is a vast furnace lit by the reflection of the flames. And when night arrives, one of those scorching howling bleeding nights, the dogs plunge into the Volga and swim desperately to gain the other bank. The nights of Stalingrad are a terror for them. Animals flee this hell; the hardest stones cannot bear it for long; only men endure.”
― Max Hastings, Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945
“A total of around 300,000 Russian soldiers are believed to have been killed by their own commanders—more than the entire toll of British troops who perished at enemy hands in the course of the war.”
― Max Hastings, Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945
“The Russian armies drove forward in the same desperate fashion in which they had retreated in the previous year, numbed by daily horrors. Victory at Kursk meant little to a soldier such as Private Ivanov of the 70th Army, who wrote despairingly to his family in Irkutsk: “Death, and only death awaits me. Death is everywhere here. I shall never see you again because death, terrible, ruthless and merciless is going to cut short my young life. Where shall I find strength and courage to live through all this? We are all terribly dirty, with long hair and beards, in rags. Farewell forever.”
― Max Hastings, Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945
“To put the matter bluntly, U.S. soldiers on Bataan and Corregidor showed themselves more stalwart than British imperial forces in Malaya and at Singapore, albeit likewise in a doomed cause. Brigadier Dwight Eisenhower, who had served unhappily under MacArthur a few years earlier, wrote in his diary: “Poor Wainwright! He did the fighting … [MacArthur] got such glory as the public could find … MacArthur’s tirades, to which … I so often listened in Manila … would now sound as silly to the public as they then did to us. But he’s a hero! Yah.” At home in the United States, news commentators squeezed every ounce of glory from Bataan, from skirmishes at sea and manifestations of America’s embryo mobilization.”
― Max Hastings, Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945
Not only does Inferno provide little known anecdotes about the lives of those caught up in the war, the book includes sections and chapters on the less familiar aspects of the conflict. Examples of these include the Arctic convoys that delivered supplies from Britain to the Soviets; the Battle for New Guinea; the impact of the war on European colonies in Africa; how the war was viewed by the various groups within the British Empire, e.g. the Raj; and the war in Yugoslavia, just to name a few.
While this is a deeply depressing book, it provides a much-needed curative to those who have focused on this war’s tales of valor and selflessness. No doubt such instances occurred, but Hastings helps us to look at the war from a different perspective. In this way, he robs the war of its glamor. As a history, conveying to 21st-century readers the human experience of the greatest conflict in human history, “Inferno” is superb.
“it is a constant of history that nations which start wars find it very hard to stop them.”
― Max Hastings, Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945