Book Review: Napoleon & the Invasion of England, Wheeler & Broadley

NB - Another of my forays into archival material. I read this book a number of years ago, and wrote and posted a review on Amazon’s UK website, also some years back. This is a slightly amended version of that. I was prompted to revisit it as I’m currently reading the superb Coastal Defences of the British Empire, by Daniel MacCannell.

Napoleon's mooted invasion of England - actually a task set for him by the Directory that he didn't seem to have his heart in (the fact that he hoped initially he might be allowed to live out his exile in England is interesting and revealing) - is a fascinating subject, and I'm quite surprised there aren't a lot more books on the subject than there appear to be.

This book is a reprint of a work written in the early years of the 20th century, and it's age does show a little in two respects: the tone of the writing can occasionally feel a tad dated, and the level of detail reflects an obsessiveness that seems almost Victorian in its zeal. I'm writing this not quite having finished the book, which I started several years ago, and eventually lost impetus with.

This said, the first two thirds of the book were, I felt, fascinating and engaging. Although Boney never seemed to quite believe in it, as a project, yet he threw himself into it with what was to become known as his trademark vigour, endlessly commissioning huge lists of highly detailed jobs for his subordinates, always demanding the next to impossible. As well as a decent if occasionally stodgy and perhaps over long text, there's an abundance of illustrative material, much of which is quite charming, such as the images of invasion via tunnels, floating castles, or even a fleet of dirigibles!

No source is left unvisited, so we are treated to commemorative medals, songs and poems, cartoons, pamphlets, extracts from personal letters, public announcements and military correspondence. No proverbial stone is left unturned. Given that almost every aspect of Napoleon's career is exhaustively written about, it's a little odd to me that, and especially what with our penchant for an overly Anglocentric reading of the era bearing the name of the man many here liked to call the 'Corsican upstart', we're not more interested in his plans to invade our shores.

So, for all that this isn't perfect, at least it's a solid and comprehensive treatment of a fascinating subject. Even though I’m still yet to finish it, I did (and still do) like it. But this is certainly more a book for the devoted Napoleonic history buff than the casual reader.

Book review: A G.I. In The Ardennes, Denis Hambucken

I love this book!

It accomplishes what I think a lot of Dorling Kindersley style 'survey' type books attempt but, for me, usually fail to achieve, i.e. a colourful yet comprehensive synthesis of a vast amount of information, conveyed in an interesting, exciting yet easy to digest form.

Not only does this book tell the story of the Ardennes campaign, albeit in an admittedly very light and basic manner - from a primarily American perspective as the title makes clear - with numerous firsthand accounts, but it also covers a huge array of more general stuff. There are brief articles on everything from uniforms and equipment to more general American wartime institutions such as the USO (United Service Organizations) and PX (Post Exchange), and the ways in which the homeland and the 'sharp end' interacted.

Aside from the incredible richness and variety of the subject itself, perhaps the greatest strength of the book is the absolutely superb collection of photographic illustrations. These run the gamut from contemporary black and white photos to colour imagery, depicting everything from surviving veterans to a huge array of GI kit/weapons, from such small and humble items as socks, via back-packs and small arms, right up to various tanks, or such monster materiel as the mighty Long Tom 155mm gun.

Amongst this embarrassment of riches I think it's the ragtag yet colourful pictorial smorgasbord of ephemera that I find so evocative and exciting; the many beautifully designed things, from matchbooks (often also quite humorous) and food packaging, to the plethora of items of clothing and weaponry, all of which mix utility with a minimalist military aesthetic - in a range of colours, greys and browns and greens, that I happen to love - it's all just fantastic.

If you're interested in this theatre of the war, I'd highly recommended this thoroughly fascinating and incredibly beautifully put together book.

Book Review: I Somehow Survived, Ed. Klaus Förg

This is an English translation of a recent book originally published in Germany, which collects the testimonies of five Bavarian survivors of WWII. All were over 90 at the time their tales were collected, the oldest being 106! Four are military personnel, whilst the fifth is a Norwegian woman, who - depsite her socialist father being forced into hiding, and her mother winding up in a camp - married a young German in the Kriegsmarine.

In the foreward Roger Moorhouse notes that this is part of a trend of recent years of allowing the voices of Germans into the pool of English language recollections, and as such a useful balance to years of largely one-sided history. I would qualify that a bit by saying that, whereas whilst most postwar German testimonies came from the bigwigs, or their friends and families - from Albert Speer's famous 'struggle with the truth' to the memoirs of people like Doenitz or von Ribbentrop, the latter's son writing his father's memoir - there have indeed, more recently, been concerted efforts to hear the voices of the 'everyman' (and woman) participants.*

My favourite of these is the first and longest, in which Georg Weiss recounts his arduous and colourful Ostfront service. Other stories include the long peregrinations of Sepp  Heinrichsberger, who, serving in France, winds up a POW in America, before undergoing a postwar oddysey in his quest to get home. Franz Blattenberger, an artilleryman, has a similar tale about his lengthy flight to ultimate postwar freedom, in which a keynote is the randomness and luck of survival. And Siegfried Schugman was a frustrated Luftwaffe man, who never got his wings, but wound up glad of it.

All in all, an interesting and very easy read. I read the entire thing in just one day, and that whilst also doing numerous other things. There are no truly mind-blowing or even very shocking revelations, to be truthful. Especially not if you've read a lot on WWII, as I have. But it is always refreshing to hear the German side of the story. The recollections seem pretty open and candid, and the supporting photos help reassure one. But - and no disrespect to the researchers or contributors - this is verbal or anecdotal history, and must therefore be treated with a certain amount of caution and circumspection.

Still, fascinating stuff.

* In respect of the latter, Tim Heath's several books on women's experiences in the Third Reich spring to mind.

Media: Selling Hitler,

NB: This is another of my occasional archival posts, originally written ages ago and posted elsewhere. But it came to mind as I was reading and reviewing Tim Heath's recently published, Hitler's Housewives, as I wondered (or rather worried) about the author's unverifiable sources.

This short 5 episode series tells of the highly intriguing affair of 'the Hitler diaries'. Bought by a credulous and over zealous German reporter with a Nazi fixation, and sold to Stern magazine (and beyond), they were endorsed by handwriting analysts and even some historians, but forensics eventually proved them to be fakes.

It's a strange thing, in a way, knowing the outcome before you see the story unfold. But the drama is in the desire to believe, which grows exponentially the more money and faith is invested. The acting is good, with a strong cast filled with both the well and the lesser known of British acting at the time, headed up by Jonathan Pryce, who's excellent as Gerd Heidemann, the Stern reporter nicknamed 'the bloodhound', whose nose for a good story, whilst not quite failing him altogether, certainly leads him astray.

Some pretty big guns, like Tom Baker & Richard Wilson are great as other journalists, some supportive some sceptical. Alan Bennett is very enjoyable as historian Hugh Trevor-Roper, and Roger Lloyd-Pack makes a credible David Irving, whilst Alison Doody is suitably siren-like and enchanting as the rather air-headed air-stewardess wife of Heidemann. Barry 'Dame Edna' Humphries is convincing as hard nosed mogul Rupert Murdoch, and we even get to see a very young Peter Capaldi.

Alexei Sayle plays Konrad 'Connie' Kujau, a former petty criminal turned dealer in Nazi-memorabilia. Discovering he could turn his artistic skills into large sums of cash by forging pretty much anything his shifty but eager clients wanted, this ultimately leads him to fake a growing collection of 'Hitler diaries', which he feeds to Heidemann. Sayle is an aptly ironic and intriguing choice for this role, which he plays pretty close to the knuckle in terms of comedy (almost lapsing into farce), given the combo of his personal left-radical leanings and Jewish ancestry.

Selling Hitler aired in '91, but looks and feels very '80s (exhibit A: Peter Capaldi's hair!). On the whole this is fine, and quite interesting in itself. But there's one moment where the full horror of the worst of the '80s asserts itself, when Heidemann and his wife go on a shopping spree with his ill-gotten gains; thus brief episode is set to an appallingly awful slice of electro-pop. It was very difficult to watch that mercifully brief scene! Fortunately it was a one-off.

Much of the filming appears to have been done on location in Germany, which helps make it look authentic, and there are mocked up bits of newsreel footage (spliced with genuine stuff) that relate to the backstory of the plot. There are also some bizarre pseudo-Wagnerian moments, complete with near surreal '80s style 'video montage' effects. The titles also betray a slightly comic edge.

All in all, this is an odd package. Mostly played quite straight, it nonetheless has occasional undertones of comedy. This, and the surreal Wagnerian stuff, conspires to make it feel somewhat uneven. But it tells a very interesting story, and even has a strange period charm. Definitely well worth watching.

Book Review: The Royal Navy in the Napoleonic Age, Mark Jessop

I think this is a really rather excellent if somewhat odd or unusual book. What's excellent is the density of information, and the vivid evocation of the era. It's how he achieves the latter that makes it odd and unusual. 

Modern writing on such subjects tends to be either factual or fictional (at least in declared intent). A deliberate mixing of the two, as here, is a rare thing these days. At least in my reading experience. As such, it takes a bit of getting used to. What author Mark Jessop does is intersperse - usually at the start or finish of a chapter - fictionalised scenarios with the more traditional historical meat of the book.

Initially wary of such an approach, I both think and feel - and that's an important point, this rather unusual approach definitely appeals to the feelings as much as the intellect (quite a refreshing thing!) - that it's sufficiently well done to have won me over. It's definitely 'mannered', so to speak. But it's also highly effective at bringing the subject vividly to life.

Having read this I feel inclined to seek out other writings by the author. Naval doings are not my primary area of interest for this period. But well written books such as this are definitely helping me develop a nascent taste for the briny sagas of this colourful 'age of sail', when sea power was key to England punching well above her apparent weight. 

Since initially posting this review I've learned that this is actually part two of, or a follow up to, another similar book by Jessop, entitled The Royal Navy 1793–1800, Birth of a Superpower, also by Pen & Sword, and written in the same style. My only real criticism of this second part is the lack of a glossary, which for a landlubber like me would've been helpful.

A fascinating subject, well served by an erudite and imaginative author. Great stuff!

Book Review: Glasgow Museums, The Ship Models

Wow... What an incredible book!

This chunky near square deluxe hardback coffee-table type book is a thing of incredible beauty. Both as an object in itself - chock-full of richly coloured beautifully crisp photographs of stunning models - and for what it documents. Since this arrived a couple of days ago I've lost myself repeatedly in awe and wonder, simply perusing the fabulous images. I've only skimmed small portions of the text, so I won't say anything for now about that aspect. Visually this deserves ten stars. It's simply jaw-droppingly stunning.

According to the books subtitle, A History and Complete Illustrated Catalogue, it covers the entire collection, making it not only enchantingly seductive, but fabulously complete and comprehensive. The ship models in the collection cover an impressive range: from models depicting the 'age of sail', including some amazing creations crafted by prisoners of the Napoleonic Wars, through all manner of vessels, from the enormous and/or ornate, to the small, simple and humble. From skiffs and tugs to Noah's Ark (!?) and huge models of modern vessels. From rudimentary half-hulls, to staggeringly detailed ships.

If you love ship models, which to me encapsulate so many things, from the strange but compelling desire we have to make miniature representations of our inventions, to the almost fairytale romance and sublime/terrifying awe of our relationships with the elemental seas, this is an essential publication. Beautifully produced, an honourable homage to the vast expenditure of skill and passion that the objects it depicts represents. Awesome is a much overused and devalued term nowadays. But it really does fit the bill here.

A lot of books of this ilk are shamefully overpriced. At £35 this is actually fair, and good value. Highly recommended.

Book Review: Japan Triumphant, 1941-42, Philip Jowett

I was a little surprised and somewhat disappointed that this was such a broad account, as the title lead me to expect a more Japanese focus.

But having now gone through the entire book that looks as much a virtue as a failing; stuff is included here that's often passed over more or less completely, such as the Dutch involvement in this theatre. Still, the eye-catching title and cover image are rather misleading, in my view. And the subtitle, The Far East Campaign 1941-1942 actually better conveys the content.

The whole Pacific theatre, whether it be the US island-hopping to Japan, or the more mixed Allied fighting in the Asian archipelago, is one I'm less au fait with than the NW European or Ostfront theatres. This is a very solid account by Jowett, amply illustrated, as befits the Images of War series. I felt I learned a lot. A very useful resource.

Book Review: The Second World War Explained, Michael O'Kelly

Over 180 or so pages and 20 chapters* (plus a 24 page section of black and white photos) ex-RN man Michael Kelly aims, as he says in his preface, to give younger readers with little knowledge of this information a succinct but comprehensive synopsis of WWII, which he describes as 'probably the most terrible event in the history of the world'.

For those of us - not his chief target audience - already obsessed with the history of WWII, and I'm one, this might not be an ideal read, for numerous reasons. Over at Amazon UK I note several other reviewers lambasting both book and author over mistakes and inaccuracies. The only one that really struck me - and it's as likely an editorial gaffe (it should've been spotted and corrected) as an authorial one - was when the long deceased French admiral Darlan's name appears where it should say Dönitz. 

I think those Amazon reviews are overly harsh, to be honest, and miss the main raison d'etre the author himself gives for the book. I reckon that, in its intended role, as a brief overview of as much of WWII as possible, it succeeds remarkably well. It'd make a great resource in primary and secondary education. Granted it's not in the league of the scholarly professionals. But those books aren't necessarily going to be a 'way in' to this massive and complex subject for poorly educated youngsters.

With the Brexit debacle threatening to take us and Europe back to a more inter-war state of affairs books like this are probably needed more than ever. Perhaps not so much by us military history nuts, so much as to remind people who may otherwise forget or just be plain ignorant, of the broad brush-stroke history of the fascinating but appalling events of WWII.

I have to confess that I was rather disappointed by this book, as I'd hoped it'd look more at the 'whys' of WWII. I think the title's a bit misleading. A better one would've been A Brief History of WWII. But as an entrée to a vast and endlessly fascinating subject, and despite its author's own biases and occasional mistakes, I think this is a potentially valuable addition to WWII literature.

O'Kelly succeeds in covering all the major theatres and campaigns, albeit in very broad simplistic terms. And it's a pretty well balanced account, that could be read in a single day. For my 'general readership' Amazon UK review I scored this four out of five. Here on my more special interest blog I'm scoring it three and a half 'kreuz, which accords more with my own personal take on it.

PS - Having said all of the above, I also think it's a quite good/handy thing for even grizzled old dogs like me to have a concise single volume précis of the massive cataclysm that was WWII. Reading this helped me zoom back out momentarily from the maelstrom of minutiae that most of my WWII reading usually subjects me to. It also helped remind me of things I want to read more on, such as the Dieppe raid, Kursk and the battles for Kharkov, or Operation Dragoon.

* There are also two appendices: one on 'Meetings of the Great Power Leaders', the other a timeline.

Media: The Pacific War in Colour

Just discovered this fantastic series on the Smithsonian Channel. It's already up to episode six of ten. And I can't seem to find a way, via my Virgin set-top box, to get back to episode one, and catch up. If anyone happens to read this and knows of a way, please let me know!

Book Review: Napoleon's Imperial Guard, The Cavalry, Paul Dawson

Initially I took the unusual step of scoring this twice, once for execution (two-and-a-half), and once for intent and all the rest; info/images, etc. (four-and-a-half). But in the end I've opted to combine the two into a single three and a-half bicornes score. And in some respects I think I'm being quite generous.

So, what's the good news? Well, as with the previous Infantry volume, this is a chunky, beautifully printed book, featuring lots of photos of garments and other accoutrements, contemporary or near contemporary artworks, and a small middle section of original paintings by Keith Rocco. The level of detail is quite something. I'm still not quite sure about the heavy use of tables of expenditures on cloth and the like. These occupy the main body of the text. I suspect they might've been less disruptive had they been collected in appendices.

Fab' photos of a surviving kinski.

Already, even in the 'good news' segment I'm getting equivocal! But staying positive: Dawson aims to be, and is, as far as my limited knowledge goes, pretty comprehensive in the mounted bodies he covers, including units like the very short-lived Eclaireurs, the 'attached' Lancers of Berg, and even the mounted artillery and train. Once again, however, even this inclusiveness is tempered by the manner in which it's addressed, which is almost exclusively data-heavy. 

For example, taking the Eclaireurs: the vast majority of what's presented here are either tables of expenditure on cloth, or brief 'histories' of individuals who served in the regiments. All this data is potentially fascinating, particularly to the hardcore Napoleonic junkie like me, but it doesn't make for an especially lively or engaging read. And the frequent 'it is clear from...' type statements are a bit opaque to a layman like me, for whom the bald data often isn't particularly enlightening, and is certainly not indicative of any obvious conclusions.

And finally, whilst some units are fairly copiously illustrated, both in terms of artefacts and illustrations, others, like the Eclaireurs, or even more so the Lithuanian Tartars, aren't. Re the Eclaireurs, reference to some contemporary prints is made, but said images aren't reproduced. And what few items are shown photographically aren't necessarily very representative (I'm referring here to the very fancy full dress dolman of Claude Testot-Ferry [1]).

Mention is made of the Eclaireurs' Rouleau type shako, but it isn't illustrated. [2]

This Job print would've been a very useful inclusion. [3]

As you can see, even in examining this books good points, there are provisos. Now we move on to the problems. There are basically two: one is the data heavy nature of the content. As a book containing information, this really excels, drawing on some sources that are less often foregrounded in the literature. But therein lies the rub; here the bald data is front and centre. It doesn't support an exciting historical narrative, it's just a kind of 'data dump', splat, on the page.

The second issue is one I often find myself mentioning in this special-interest niche of ours, military history, and that's editing. The Infantry volume has some pretty shocking moments, as when the back jacket blurb announces that the book is about cavalry. But this Cavalry volume, whilst correct on the rear dust jacket, is littered with editorial gaffes that suggest it has never been proof-read.

For example, take the first three Rocco plates: the first shows Chasseurs a Cheval, but the caption is for Grenadiers a Cheval. The second is Empress Dragoons, but the caption describes Chasseurs a Cheval. The third, a Grenadier a Cheval... well, it's not made clear in the text what body of cavalry is being referred to. Awful!

Check this image closely, for catastrophic captioning.

This jumble of misplaced captions is bad enough, but there's worse, as on pages 114-115 (shown above), where the left page shows photos of horse bridles/reins, and the right a sword belt and sabretache. But both bear identical captions describing a schabraque! This is, frankly, appalling and inexcusable in a book whose RRP is a hefty £40!

In conclusion, I would say that this potentially excellent book is currently very notably spoiled, partly by the dry data-heavy nature of the text itself, but much more so by the sloppy or seemingly non-existent editing [4]. Nevertheless, whilst pretty disappointed, particularly after the anticipation generated by the previous Infantry volume, I'm still very glad to have this. For all its faults, and they aren't insignificant, overall it's still both fascinating and informative. 

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NOTES:

[1] It's a thing of great beauty, but not as enlightening as to the ordinary uniforms of these units as is the kurtka style jacket that appears later.

[2] The photo I've used is a reproduction item.

Guard Eclaireurs as illustrated by the Funckens.

[3] The Job picture doesn't appear in Dawson's book. Nor does the Martinet image he refers to in the text. Ever since I saw the image reproduced above, from one of the many L. & F. Funcken Arms & Uniforms titles,  I was fascinated by these cool looking cavalrymen. It's a great pity this book doesn't illustrate these guys better.

[4] Here's another and not altogether untypical instance of the need for better editing, p. 218: 'The eclaireurs of the Guard was a corps of cavalry eclaireurs of the French Imperial Guard...' Come on! Such redundant tautology shouldn't reach the printed page.

NB You may notice that I'm rather interested in the Eclaireurs! I was looking forward to learning more about them. And I did. But I was also deeply disappointed not to find better images of them.

Book Review: D-Day, Stephen Ambrose

This is an excellent book. It's a pity it overhypes itself on the cover; as good as it is I don't think it's definitive. I'm not sure any single volume account of D-Day could really achieve that, frankly. It's also both heavily weighted to the U.S. perspective, and within that, the events at Omaha beach. Both latter facts are understandable enough, but mitigitate very heftily against any claims of being definitive. Never mind that the Canadian and British aspects are given very brief coverage, mostly at the end of the book.

A couple of more basic or general points in its favour, leaving aside for the moment the core content, which is excellent, are the glossary - they should be absolutely mandatory in all military history books, in my view - and the excellent maps, which by the looks of them were commissioned specifically for this book.

A fuller view of the Robert Capa photo that appears on the cover.

Ambrose has a very nicely tuned and balanced writing style, it's dry and factual where it needs to be without being dull, and he uses primary sources - a lot of oral history (interviews either he or others have conducted with veterans) - as well as any of the best (or should I say most popular/slickest?) war writers, like Beevor or, going back a bit further, Cornelius Ryan.

Indeed, re the latter point, Ambrose is in a powerful position to be the erudite authority he so clearly is, in that he was (now decesased, I believe?) at the time of writing, deeply involved not only in teaching on this subject, but also as a custodian involved in the fairly recently founded (again, when this was first published) New Orleans D-Day Museum*. And one of the many great things the museum could boast, with Ambrose involved again, was a unique (in its size and scope) 'oral history' collection.

And it's from these sources that this very colourful account gets many of its richer hues.

I believe this may be another of Capa's blurred but highly evocative images.

Whilst he doesn't shy away from the tragedies of war, collateral damage, friendly fire, prisoner executions, and all that, Ambrose does give a decidedly heroic ring to it all, pitting the 'citizen soldiers' (a phrase that's also the title of another book he's written) of an 'aroused democracy', fighting inly to liberate, against the empire-building Nazis, whose troops are - by this stage if the war, and in this particular theatre - either indoctrinated Germans, either docile or fanatical, or unwilling thralls, as per the Ost-truppen.

Whilst it's a all a bit rich - apple-pie 'n' God Bless the U. S. of A, and all that jazz - for a very sceptical chap like me, Ambrose does make pretty solid case in contrasting the sclerotic command malfunctions of the German's, Hitler in bed till noon, his panzers immobile without his personal authority, with the hands-off approach of Ike and Churchill. Gone is the  flexible auftragstaktik that characterised the first blitzkrieg years of the war.

Capa again: Omaha, pinned down on the beach, sheltering behind German obstacles.

One of the things that winds up happening is that things are in exact reverse of how, on paper, they should've been: the Allies were landing against a supposedly extremely well-fortified coast, not using harbours, but beaches. The Germans, with the land and its transportation networks at their backs should've been the easier supplied and maneuovred. But, thanks to the Allies total air and naval superiority, it is the Allies who are free to manoeuvre and resupply more or less at will, with the Germans in Normandy effectively cut off, on a landlocked island.

Whilst D-Day wasn't on the scale, in terms of troop numbers and vehicles, as some of the largest clashes on the Eastern Front, it was the most massive combined operation by land, sea and air ever. Even Stalin freely admitting as much, and suitably relieved/impressed by it. The mind still boggles at the scale of it. And it continues to exercise a deep fascination. It's kind of shocking and surprising how little photographic documentation has come down to us so far.

It's a bit surprising there aren't more photos like this, conveying the enormity of the operations.

Another of Capa's few surviving images.

The fate of Robert Capa's photos [1], one of which is on the cover of this edition, may possibly sum that situation up. Related to all this, yesterday I caught the tail end of a recently produced American TV documentary entitled The Battle of Normandy: 85 Days in Hell, which appears to include lots of 'previously unseen' footage (much of it looking very nicely restored, and a good deal even in colour). So perhaps as time goes on more visual material will emerge? I do hope so!

Anyway, this book is excellent, a suitably rousing document that is also a tribute to the events and the men it brings to life again for us. Superb, and very highly recommended.

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Ambrose as I first saw him, on ITV's superb The World At War.

NOTES:

[1] The story goes that Capa shot 106 photos, but that back in England the excited developer botched his job in his eagerness, only eleven of the photographs surviving. There are also stories going around that suggest Capa 'sexed up' his account. Read more here.

Book Review: Napoleon's Imperial Guard, The Infantry, Paul Dawson.

This is part one of a two part Uniforms and Equipment series from Frontline publishing, an imprint of Pen & Sword, by Paul L. Dawson. A deluxe hardback, copiously illustrated with both contemporary art depicting the Infantry of Napoleon's famous Imperial Guard, and superbly photographed original artefacts, covering weapons, uniforms and other equipment of this legendary elite formation.

Together these two volumes will make an indispensable new resource for those interested/obsessed with the history of this most colourful and exciting era. The level of detail is, frankly, astonishing. Occasionally even rather exhausting, if I'm honest. And yet I find myself strangely and magnetically drawn to it all, even down to the minutiae of what appear to be translations of original manuals of regulations and suchlike.

Mind-boggling minutiae!

I have to confess that I baulk a little at the obsessive detail of the many tables of various types of data, which cover all sorts of things, from the numbers, names and ranks of individuals within given units, to the expenditure on various types of cloths or garments. Having said this, the deeper one delves into these subjects, the more such facts become, pardon the pun, part of the very fabric of history itself.

I love the illustrations, both the colour plates of beautiful old artworks depicting the peacock finery of these venerable French warriors, and the numerous photos of their gear, which exert an almost talismanic power, communicating across the ages a strong whiff of gunpowder, sweat, blood and the many soils over which Bonaparte's legions tramped, from the sands of North Africa to the Steppes of Russia.

Wow! What fab gear!

Artist and illustrator Keith Rocco, who many will associate with the American Civil War, thanks to his copious output of artworks covering that conflict, has been commissioned to produce new works for these two books, and they feature both on the front and back covers of the books, and in their own dedicated sections in the centre of the volume. These are superb, needless to say. And they help impart a real sense of the de-luxe, as befits a book about elite units such as the Imperial Guard.

Sadly this first volume - I eagerly await the second, on the Cavalry of the Guard - does suffer from the lack of editorial finesse that sometimes bedevils such specialist or niche areas of publishing as military history. Some examples of this include the usage of specialist terminology that isn't explained (or if it is, it's explained elsewhere in the book, and that explanation is not easily found), or such bloopers as the rear dust-jacket blurb describing this as a 'guide to the dress, weapons and accruements [sic*] of the cavalry [!] elements  of the most famous formation of the Napoleonic Wars'.

Lots of lovely illustrations!

Nonetheless, this is a fantastic resource for the Napoleonic history buff, and an essential addition to the library of those who, like me, are obsessed with this period of history. I can't wait to see the Cavalry volume!

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* Presumably the intended word here was accoutrements?

Misc: 100 Posts In 2019!

This post is the one-hundredth of 2019. That's the most posts in any one year so far, since I started in 2014. And there's still one-third of the year left. So I'm in pretty good shape for a bumper year of blogging. It also seems to me like a good moment to take stock. What have I achieved, both in blogging and more generally? Am I happy with what I'm doing? And all that sort of thing.

A new display case, with dust-busting glass front! [1]

My motley selection of wings. Just two are actually completed.

First off, however, a word on my 54mm Napoleonics, as they've been my latest practical hands-on modelling project. I've more or less finished the three Frenchies, pictured in the next section of the post, below. But I have yet to even make a start on the two British figures. I have a feeling that I'll be taking a break from 54mm figures for a spell, and getting into my languishing 6mm and 10mm 1812 armies. That's an area I'm less happy about; the inactivity on that (Eastern) front!

One noteworthy development of 2019 was an invitation to review for Pen & Sword. I've been an Amazon Vine reviewer for a number of years. But, rather annoyingly, and despite getting lots of great stuff, almost none of it has been related to my mini-military interests. Andrew Roberts Napoleon The Great, for example, was given out to some Vine reviewers. But not, alas, to me. I love being part of the Vine program, But that really galls me! I wouldn't be surprised if I was amongst the most history and Napoleon obsessed of their reviewers! Hey ho...

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But afore I go any further, yesterday's and today's activity, modelling wise, was further work on my 54mm Nap's: I did a tiny bit of touching up here and there, including some gloss varnish followed with washes (braid, horses mane, that sort of stuff), and a couple of coats of matt varnish. This time, with the latter I managed to be a bit more patient and methodical, thereby avoiding the dreaded clouding.

Rosewood bases, masked, ready for Milliput 'soil' to be added.

The pictures immediately above and below show the other thing I did yesterday, which is beginning the basing. I cut the bases from Indian Rosewood, on my bandsa and a hole cutting bit. They required quite a bit of sanding, and the circular ones needed the central drill-holes left by the hole-cutting bits  filling. I then masked a 5mm band around all the bases, built up Milliput 'earth', and tidied it with various tools so it follows the edge masking.

Figures on their bases, Milliput and gravel earth built up.

Scenic gravel and stones were then added, after which I marked mounting points from the base of each model, using the wire I'd glued into the feet/legs of each figure to mark the positions of the desired holes. I used a pin-vise drill through the still soft-ish Milliput and the wooden bases, which worked fine. Once the models were pinned in, and pressed into the Milliput, I used some liquid superglue to secure the models and the gravel in situ.

I'll let them dry and harden overnight, and start in on painting tomorrow. If poss', I'll add grass then as well... we shall see!

A different view. Grenadier's scabbards fell off!

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Note tiny hole drilled into grognard's left buttock.

Well, it's now 'tomorrow' today, and I've painted the 'earth', and added some more gravel. I also attached the Guard Grenadier's scabbards with a tiny little metal pin, as they'd fallen off two or three times, and I was getting fed up with gluing them back on, especially as it entailed repainting that whole area, the gluing process having messed up the paintwork.

Scabbards superglued into position. Will this do the trick?

I'm now letting everything sit awhile, myself included, as I type this. And then it'll be time to add some grass. Think I might watch a YouTube vid or two on the subject first, to see how to go about it! I seem to recall folk using diluted wood glue... let's find out!

Bases ready for the addition of grass.

All of this recent stuff, WWII vehicles, planes, 54mm figures, book reviews, are digressions from my 6mm and 10mm Russia 1812 stuff. But there's no sign of any let up, and I'm tending to go with the flow. After all, this whole mallarkey is, for me, chiefly about allowing myself self-indulgent pleasure. And it's doing that aplenty.

A recent trip to Ely inevitably found me furtively sneaking into the City Cycle Centre model department. They've rearranged their stock (again!), and now have some models by a brand that's new to me, Forces of Valour. I decided I'd check out their King Tiger model, as I've been wanting to build a version of this mighty metal monster Sorcifically done out in the obscure but fascinating 'octopus' camo' scheme.

I think this might be my next build...

And this is the camo' scheme I intend for her.

In the meantime, however, I'm still working on basing my French Napoleonic dudes. Here are few pics showing how that's progressing. The plastic bottle with extra holes in the top is a home-made 'static grass' dispenser, based on an idea I've seen online; you simply shake the container vigorously, and both it and the grass being plastics, some static ought to be imparted to the latter. I did an A/B test on two bits of cork. The one at left had the static bottle treatment, the one at right didn't. I can see no discernible difference!

A small plastic bottle destined to become a static grass dispenser.

First use of my recently acquired Dremel-type tool, drilling yon holes.

Left treated, right untreated... hmm!? They look identical to me.

A first covering with grassy stuff (mixture of flock 'n' static).

Forward focus on same bases.

A liberal second covering, prior to 'shakedown'.

In researching basing I've learned a fair bit by simply watching a number of YouTube videos, some of which I already knew, such as flock and static grass being two different things, some of which I didn't; commercially available static grass dispensers are very expensive! One of the videos, by model railway scenery builder extraordinaire Luke Towan, shows how to make your own DIY dispenser. I think I'll be doing that at some point! In the meantime, I tried to emulate the Noch brand plastic bottle static grass dispenser, as chronicled above. Not sure if that was worth doing or not yet...

The bases unmasked.

Viewed more fully, models 'n' all.

Anyway, as with much of this stuff, one can continue fussing and finagling without end. I got my 54mm (or 1/32) models to a point now that I consider more of less finished. As pictured above, I've removed the masking, and I'm pleased with the overall results. I made a conscious decision, partially motivated my laziness, perhaps? to keep the bases blocky and simple. I could've routed ornate profiles (probably would've gone with an ogee). But I thought the grain of the wood is beautiful, and by keeping them simple I could make more of that.

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To conclude this 100th post, I return to more general thoughts.

What have I achieved with this blog? Well, sharing my work with the world at large is definitely a type of motivation, and it's great to get some feedback. I'd certainly like more followers and a lot more comments [2]. I hope that'll come as I continue. I reckon I need to get more into following other bloggers as well. I did more of that when I started blogging. Indeed, that's a large part of what got me started. As with YouTube, other people's blogs are a great resource/inspiration.

More generally, I've drifted away from my 6mm and 10mm Russia 1812 projects, and gotten more into 1/72 kit builds of late, and book reviews, which is all fine 'n' dandy in itself, but... I definitely do very much want to get back in the saddle in those areas. I'm also slowly getting better at finishing things off. It's certainly easier, I find, to finish hand painted stuff, as I still feel that I'm an airbrushing novice.

Military movies remain an interest, although finding decent ones is getting trickier, as I've now watched an awful lot of the better known more mainstream ones. Recent viewing has run the full gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous, 1864 being of the former, and The Battle for Warsaw the latter. It seems from viewer stats that my film reviews are of less interest to readers of the blog than other content. But as I'm really into it, I'll continue posting them.  I still need to work out how to code a dynamic hot-link 'picture wall' for the movies page.

Books remain a constant interest, with much reading and reviewing. Now that I'm getting stuff from Pen & Sword it's hard to keep up with these two activities and yet not get burned out. I try to hop around between types and titles, to prevent exhaustion. Sometimes things serendipitously connect, as when Philip Warner's excellent Anglo-centric D-Day book (my review here), from P&S, makes an excellent companion to Stephen Ambrose's much more American focussed D-Day, which I picked up in a charity shop for £1.50!

And the bookish and filmic stuff occasionally intersects, as when reading on the Bismarck (review here) and watching Sink The Bismarck. Or, whilst reading the above-mentioned D-Day books, watching the really rather excellent Ike, Countdown to D-Day, in which the rather unlikely casting of Tom Selleck as Ike actually comes off really well.

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NOTES:

[1] This supplants my home-made pair of glass-less shelves. Models on those got very dusty. I found this shelving unit dumped on the roadside. It was a very lurid bright pink originally! So I stripped/sanded and painted it, and it'll serve me well. Though I do need more glass shelves and shelf support pegs.

[2] One thing I occasionally do with this in mind is post on TMP, The Miniatures Page, another source of inspiration and information. And I do find that does help drive a little more traffic to my blog. But nowhere near as much as I'd like!