Runo Knows...The Fall of Berlin 1945
(Quick side note: I'm desperately trying to catch up here. I've still got Zima Blue and Other Stories by Alastair Reynolds, American Gunfight by Stephen Hunter, Job: A Comedy of Justice by Robert Heinlein, and The Man Who Ate Everything by Jeffrey Steingarten that I want to do, and I'm working on Diamond Dogs, Turquoise Days by Reynolds and Paying the Piper by David Drake right now, and I've got Measuring the World by Daniel Kehlmann just waiting for me, too. Sigh. So much to read! I love reading.)
It is perhaps true that the Russian front of World War II is gaining more attention these days, both in popular culture (with movies such as Enemy at the Gates and video games such as Call of Duty 2 focusing on it) and perhaps in academia/historical books, too. Or it may just be my perception is of that. Antony Beevor, in a follow-up to his book Stalingrad, covers that Eastern Front as it moved, inexorably, towards Berlin in 1945.
There is perhaps no "happy" place in war, but with even the excesses of the Allies (say, with the firebombing of Dresden) and the general horror of the war on the Western Front, it was nothing compared to life on the Eastern Front. The Eastern Front was so bad that German soldiers would do everything possible to surrender to the Allies, and not the Soviets; they knew which side would treat them better. Whether Soviet high command treated their enemies (the Germans) or their own foot soldiers better might be a cause for more debate.
Beevor examines life on all sides of the conflict. You have German civilians, trapped by invading armies and insane Hitler and other gaulitier decrees forbidding them to leave, civilians that ended up looted, raped by the thousand, and often killed (whether via battle, for refusing to consent to rape, by their own side for surrendering, or suicide). You have Soviet civilians, captured by the German drive east, and considered tainted and weak by the NKVD. You have Soviet POWs, considered deserters or traitors as well, and often taken straight from the camp and put back on the front line. You have German Wehrmacht, the army, trying desperately not to die or be captured by the Soviets in what they know is their final few days, stuck in position by the relentless Nazi orders not to fall back, given false hope and promises, and worrying about their families. You have the German SS, growing more fanatical, knowing their fate if captured. You have non-German SS, fearing an even worse fate. You have Soviet deserters who rallied to the German side. You have Communist Germans, trying to prove their fealty to the Soviet Union. You have representatives of the Western powers, unknowingly making Stalin more paranoid about who will take Berlin.
All of that and more.
It is, perhaps, a profoundly depressing book, often concentrating on the horrors that man can inflict on each other. It's not all horror and brutality - there is kindness and compassion, stoicism and heroism, bravery and forgiveness. In some ways it makes the suicidal stands of the Nazis, with entire families killing themselves and twelve year olds given bicycles with panzerfausts clipped to them, as well as the depradations of the Soviet armies, even more poignant and depraved.
Beevor doesn't just dryly recite history, he tells a story. He keeps the plot moving, keeps the reader engaged, and makes you feel for almost everyone involved - perhaps not for the fanatics of the Nazis, or the paranoid delusions of Stalin and Beria, but rather, for the "every man" and "every woman" on both side.
It is perhaps true that the Russian front of World War II is gaining more attention these days, both in popular culture (with movies such as Enemy at the Gates and video games such as Call of Duty 2 focusing on it) and perhaps in academia/historical books, too. Or it may just be my perception is of that. Antony Beevor, in a follow-up to his book Stalingrad, covers that Eastern Front as it moved, inexorably, towards Berlin in 1945.
There is perhaps no "happy" place in war, but with even the excesses of the Allies (say, with the firebombing of Dresden) and the general horror of the war on the Western Front, it was nothing compared to life on the Eastern Front. The Eastern Front was so bad that German soldiers would do everything possible to surrender to the Allies, and not the Soviets; they knew which side would treat them better. Whether Soviet high command treated their enemies (the Germans) or their own foot soldiers better might be a cause for more debate.
Beevor examines life on all sides of the conflict. You have German civilians, trapped by invading armies and insane Hitler and other gaulitier decrees forbidding them to leave, civilians that ended up looted, raped by the thousand, and often killed (whether via battle, for refusing to consent to rape, by their own side for surrendering, or suicide). You have Soviet civilians, captured by the German drive east, and considered tainted and weak by the NKVD. You have Soviet POWs, considered deserters or traitors as well, and often taken straight from the camp and put back on the front line. You have German Wehrmacht, the army, trying desperately not to die or be captured by the Soviets in what they know is their final few days, stuck in position by the relentless Nazi orders not to fall back, given false hope and promises, and worrying about their families. You have the German SS, growing more fanatical, knowing their fate if captured. You have non-German SS, fearing an even worse fate. You have Soviet deserters who rallied to the German side. You have Communist Germans, trying to prove their fealty to the Soviet Union. You have representatives of the Western powers, unknowingly making Stalin more paranoid about who will take Berlin.
All of that and more.
It is, perhaps, a profoundly depressing book, often concentrating on the horrors that man can inflict on each other. It's not all horror and brutality - there is kindness and compassion, stoicism and heroism, bravery and forgiveness. In some ways it makes the suicidal stands of the Nazis, with entire families killing themselves and twelve year olds given bicycles with panzerfausts clipped to them, as well as the depradations of the Soviet armies, even more poignant and depraved.
Beevor doesn't just dryly recite history, he tells a story. He keeps the plot moving, keeps the reader engaged, and makes you feel for almost everyone involved - perhaps not for the fanatics of the Nazis, or the paranoid delusions of Stalin and Beria, but rather, for the "every man" and "every woman" on both side.