This book started off as a distinct pleasure. The introduction, discussing the Hanson family’s personal loss at the battle of Okinawa, is both amazing and heartbreaking; the author is able to conclude with what I consider the book’s main idea: “[T]here will be some fundamental and important consequences beyond other more normal occurrences, given the unnatural idea of men trying to kill each other in a few hours in a relatively confined space. Battles really are the wildfires of history, out of which the survivors float like embers and then land to burn far beyond the original conflagration.” To state it differently—and not as well—there are far-reaching aftershocks to these violent encounters on the battlefield, and they are worthy of discussion. A few years ago, I read Maxwell Taylor Kennedy’s superb book on the USS Bunker Hill in the aftermath of a Kamikaze attack, where he compared this situation to the suicide bombers encountered in Iraq; I was pleased to see Hanson dig deeper into this phenomenon and the way Imperial Japan facilitated it. He also provides one of the best arguments I’ve seen in favor of President Truman’s decision to drop the atomic bomb and shorten the war. It is a bit ominous that he spills some ink on Churchill here, but I saw no mention of the US President’s role in these events (as majestic as the Prime Minister was, he did not have the authority to launch the Enola Gay). Like the first case study, the remaining two are about maneuver and its influence on victory in battle. In the chapters on Shiloh, Hanson makes a fine argument that Sherman was the right man at the right place and time to ensure the Civil War’s outcome, and that teaming him up with Grant guaranteed it would happen as fast as possible. The discussion of other personalities at Shiloh and their far-reaching influence in its wake—i.e., Generals Johnston, Forrest, and Wallace—do much to support the aforementioned thesis. The Delium section aptly reveals the author’s mastery of and education in classical history, and his relation of this battle to Greek philosophy, military tactics, and the Western world as we know it is convincing. I had actually scrawled in the margins that with the passage of time, someone should bring this scholarly model to evaluating the effects of Fallujah or Anaconda, perhaps with better maps and interviews of the combatants as older, more seasoned, and reflective men. In his epilogue, the author writes that an individual battle’s legacy is affected by factors like “[t]actics, numbers, the dead, location, timing, political aftershocks, and luminaries” involved in the fight, and it’s imperative that “veterans, eyewitnesses, and historians” record the events for posterity. As the chapter moved on, I was writing the names of other poignant works in the margins like “Clash of Civilizations” and “The Lexus and the Olive Tree” and I was both lamenting the fact that the book was almost finished and excited about how Hanson would tie the sack shut on a fine work. It his here, however, that he disappoints. I personally remember standing in the heat and dust outside the little PX at Bagram Airbase in 2002 and most of our NATO nations were represented in the queue (as well as South Koreans, Australians, and New Zealanders), so I’m not sure which European allies he saw “voicing anger at America in the months after” the 9/11 attacks. I can personally vouch for nations like Germany, Turkey, and Spain putting boots on the ground when Article Five was declared, and maybe “Europeans loudly pronounced a new anti-Americanism,” but I didn’t hear that where it mattered in Afghanistan. His further assertion that Vietnam “shamed Americans into thinking that all conflicts were bad. Relativism sometimes convinced them that they were not that much different from their enemies. Conflict resolution advised that there was rarely such a thing as a moral armed struggle of good against evil—to be scoffed at as ‘Manichaean’…” I think we stand on the shoulders of giants, but if you’re telling me that the heroes and leaders at places like Chosin Reservoir, Khe Sanh, and Torah Borah put on blinders and charged into combat against an enemy with greater moral fiber than our resolute but situationally-aware American forefathers, I don’t think we are going to agree. To go further, any military leader who is not consistently evaluating and adapting to circumstances—a quality Hanson himself describes in his examination of Sherman—is dangerous to himself and his subordinates. I admire Lincoln as much as any well-read American, but I also acknowledge that he had doubts and made several mid-course corrections in his endeavor to preserve the United States of America. The back-handed swipes at President Clinton [like Truman, Hanson has decided to avoid mentioning him by name], his implication that every veteran is a national security expert, and his bizarre segue into scorn for modern art reveal more than a little of the Manichaeanism he mentioned earlier. To summarize, “Ripples of Battle” took a fine series of case studies, each of which “carry historical weight far out of proportion to their numbers, and so create waves where there should be only tiny ripples.” His examination is nuanced, complex, and highly readable. Unfortunately, in the last 10 pages of the book, Hanson decides to pass judgment (the book was published in 2003) on events we haven’t had time to really assess adequately with the brain instead of the heart, and this assessment brings to mind men who consistently shriek “Appeasement!” and “Traitor!” into the faces of people who ask about checks and balances before applying military force to a problem. This premature assessment of the Global War on Terror is akin to trying to change the tire on a car that is still in motion, a practice likely to bring both danger and failure, and certainly different than assessing events that happened before 1945. To use another metaphor, I left this book feeling like I had engaged in an intelligent and interesting conversation with a brilliant and engaging scholar; when it was time to say goodbye, I would have liked to shake hands and say I looked forward to future engagements. I feel as if I was offered a palm streaked with something sticky and putrid. Needless to say, I will not be purchasing future conversations with Victor Davis Hanson.