No Less than Victory, Ward reviews a novel of the Second World War
The author’s name ─ Shaara, was more prominent on the cover than the actual title of the book. I knew about Michael Shaara and his Pulitzer Prize winning account of Gettysburg, The Killer Angels, a book that totally blew me away and thinking this was Michael again, I picked up the book.
Turns out it’s a different Shaara, Jeff, the son of Mike. OK, no problem. Let’s see what the kid can do.
Something else about the cover ─ one of the reviews I read claimed the tank on the cover of the book was Russian. Really? A Russian tank at the Battle of the Bulge? I don’t know enough about tanks to know if the reviewer was correct or not, there’s nothing on the tank identifying it as Russian, or German or American either. What I did know, from my own experience, was how writers don’t always have much if anything to say about the design of their own covers.
Oh, and one more thing I learned before I began reading the book. It was actually book 3 of a trilogy. I don’t like trilogies. They have 3 volumes worth of pages to fill and tend to fill those pages with…filler, and they tend to lag. I can’t attest to the first 2 books of this trilogy, I haven’t read them, but I can tell you this book didn’t lag and there was no filler.
It’s the last six months of the European war, from the first chaotic days of the Battle of the Bulge in December of 44 to V-E Day, in May of 45. It’s mostly the story of the guys in the foxholes. Or, in the first chapter, the guys in a B-17. They take off from an airfield in England, heading for Berlin on a bombing run and over the German capital, are shot down. It’s graphic and terrifying and, to borrow a cliché, the author makes you think you really are there, and damn glad you’re not. One of the crewmen, at least, survives, the bombardier, and is captured by the Germans and I’m thinking we’re heading for a stalag and instead, we don’t get anything more about the bombardier until the afterward, where the author gives us an accounting of all the men in the book.
(Mini spoiler - The bombardier survives the war in a stalag and as of 2005, when the book was published, was alive and well and retired and living in Florida.)
Mostly the book follows 2 regular GIs, riflemen Mitchell and Benson. What we get is realism, that Russian tank notwithstanding. We get how what men fight for is the respect of their buddies. We get the mud and the cold and the fear and the lousy food, and, in Mitchell’s case, the rage.
Only an estimated 1 in 10 American servicemen actually saw combat in World War 2, which for me, at least, tends to mitigate the heroism of our Greatest Generation but this book lets you know how it was for the 1 in 10, and how was it? Awful.
There are some big people in the book, used mostly to help us make sense of what the little guys are up against. The little guys only know what’s right there in front of their foxholes, the big guys have all those maps on the walls with pins in them.
This big picture includes a real appreciation of General Dwight Eisenhower.
Eisenhower never saw combat. The brass wouldn’t let him go to Europe during the First World War, he was too valuable behind a desk. Macarthur supposedly once called Eisenhower “the best clerk I ever had.” But whoever decided Eisenhower had the sort of skills to make a first-rate commander of all the Allied forces in Europe was certainly correct, as the author shows. We don’t get to see Eisenhower agonizing about D-Day, that’s presumably in book 2 ─ to go or not to go, when to go, and the foul weather and the moonlight and the storm. That’s decision enough for any man’s lifetime and it didn’t get any easier once the invasion was launched, the beachheads and breakouts established. Every day of the war, every decision Eisenhower made involved the lives of many thousands of men and Jeff Shaara shows us how Ike approached it, with the same sort of equanimity and frustration that another general and future president exhibited in our very first war. Eisenhower was often criticized, after, not during the war, for spending too much time on the golf course but with all he had to decide on a daily basis, with all the weight he carried through the war, can we not cut him some slack?
Hitler, Churchill and de Gaulle also appear in the book.
De Gaulle is only seen briefly, which is too bad, he’s a hoot in his appearance with Eisenhower, the imperious Frenchman and the plain-spoken American.
We get Churchill and Ike discussing Yalta. Here we get the consensus view. FDR was old and sick at Yalta and Joe Stalin was charming. Really? The Allies get taken by the Russians. Again, really? To be fair, this is not Jeff Shaara pushing a right-wing interpretation of Yalta, how Roosevelt sold us out. This is Jeff Shaara showing how Churchill and, to a lesser degree, Ike, saw it. How I see it, the territory the Russians claimed at Yalta was mostly territory they were standing on and what was Stalin going to do? Step back, if only we asked nicely? And what were we going to do if he didn’t step back, fight him? Churchill’s other complaint to Eisenhower was how he was ignored at Yalta, how Roosevelt and Stalin talked over his head, like the British Lion no longer mattered. Sorry, Winnie, it didn’t.
Eisenhower excelled at, and I don’t want to use the word manipulating, call it handling, his volatile generals, particularly Montgomery, Bradley and the always irascible Patton. They were all of them valuable in different ways and it was Eisenhower’s job, not only to ensure the right man was in the right slot at the right time, but to shield the generals, sometimes from themselves.
Talk about herding cats.
Eisenhower, at one point in the book, declares himself not a politician but don’t kid yourself. He was a politician in the very best sense of the word, a politician whose skills served us all very well indeed.
So if you want to learn more about the Greatest Generation before it vanishes, if you want to see those tottering old men as young and virile, read No Less than Victory, and you’ll probably want to read the first 2 books of the trilogy. I know I do.