There are many nonfiction books that bring to life the events of the past, cast real-life villains and heroes as relatable, and provide a human touch to the recitation of historical events. Pushing Horizons will undoubtedly recommend many such books to our readers, as we did last month. However, there are times when Fiction takes a prominent place in the education of a reader. There is great value in a fictionalized version of history, where an artful rendering can transform a daunting mountain of facts into a carefully constructed story symmetrically framed and walled in symbolism. To my students, perpetually busy with the demands of academic life, I offered the following novels as a break from their normal scholarly consumption – with the hidden benefit of continuing their education.
Few novels make it into the required reading lists of military professionals. Once An Eagle by Anton Myrer has been hailed for decades as an instructive tome for prospective second lieutenants – helping cement the image of the mature, experienced, and savvy prior-enlisted platoon leader at the expense of the Academy-bred lieutenant. However, well-worn, annotated copies of another set of novels was being quietly passed within the military profession. After the US military’s traumatic experience and exit from Vietnam the institution of arms, along with the country, was willing and eager to jettison the memory of guerrilla warfare in favor of conventional, large-tank formation, anti-Soviet army doctrine. However, the novels of Jean Lartéguy bring guerrilla warfare to life by putting skin and flesh to the historical skeleton of France’s painful exit from their Algerian province – providing historical parallel to America’s war in Vietnam. The wars in Algeria were fought with a ferocity and intensity that forever scarred the French psyche. Lartéguy, a veteran of the Free French Forces during World War II, before he turned to journalism, gave an ugly and personal fictionalized narrative of the very real tension and contradiction of France’s opposition to the Algerian War of Independence.
Lartéguy’s main characters evolve from the experiences and internment after the defeat of Dien Bien Phu in French Indochina to the savage war in Algeria. Having been asked to maintain the integrity of France, with which Algeria was an integral part, the officers of the fictional 10th Parachute Regiment resort to torture and extrajudicial murder to defeat the National Liberation Front’s fighters in Algiers and the elsewhere. Each of Lartéguy’s officers must grapple with the emotions and implications of a conflict that pitted the idea of France against the rights of her subjects. In Algeria, European and Muslim neighbors were thrust into murderous competition as the availability of a moderate central path to a peaceful resolution disappeared under revolutionary violence.
The “enemies” of France were the very people that had come to believe that their independence was guaranteed French liberte. Every action taken in Algeria was taken at the behest of a series of French governments that refused to accept its shrinking empire – even as Vietnam, Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria all agitated to separate themselves. I recommend The Centurions, and its sequel The Praetorians, as a way to understand that the military exists in a world of messy, often short-sighted politics where leaders with power sometimes lack the vision, and those with vision lack the influence. Armies don’t go to war alone. Their societies go with them. This novel allows the reader to compare their contemporary environment with France in the mid-Twentieth Century – a modern, republican democracy with nuclear weapons and a worldwide military presence.
Probably one of the better, if not the best, war novels that unflinchingly provides a realistic and emotional perspective on camaraderie, tension, and trauma of the bonds made and severed in combat. I would recommend this to any level of leader, as the Marlantes gracefully shifts from the platoon commanders’ and battalion commander’s perspective to show the rational and consequences of the brutal calculations of military benefit and human cost. It’s an immersive read, which reflects the high quality of the writing.
Karl Marlantes is a Vietnam veteran, and he makes an appearance in Ken Burn’s “The Vietnam War” documentary – which I also highly recommend. The documentary’s film footage and testimonials of the Vietnam War mirrors the fictionalized experience in Matterhorn. I don’t think Marlantes pulled any punches in his story as his words smack of real pain, real frustration, and real hopelessness he probably experienced first-hand.
“Within an hour Cassidy had joined Hawke at the LZ and every replacement was laden with machine-gun ammunition and water to the point where he could barely move. Hawke or Cassidy would walk up to each one and have him jump up and down. If the kid looked too lively they’d throw another belt of ammo across his shoulders until his knees were just short of buckling. Then Cassidy left and they were all sitting in the mud again, covered with ammunition and canteens. “Don’t fucking worry,” Hawke joked with them. He began to speak in a sonorous monotone. “Come unto me all you who are burdened and heavy laden.” Smiles appeared. He quickly turned on them. “But I ain’t giving you fucking sinners any rest.” He turned to one of the replacements who had cracked a smile. “You think I’m fucking Jesus or something? Do I look like Jesus to you?””
I have already recommended this book to several young lieutenants to help them imagine the complexity of serving and leading in war.
“I’d change with you, Old Man, Michael thought. The days you’ve lived through. The best days of America. The optimistic days, the short wars, the little killing, the bracing, invigorating, early-century weather . . . You married and sat down to dinner with many children in the same house for twenty uninterrupted years, and only foreigners fought in the wars then. Don’t envy me, Old Man, don’t envy me. What good fortune, what a gift to be seventy and nearly dead in 1942!”
Although entirely set during World War II era, this novel barely focuses on the combat aspects of the century’s greatest conflict. In fact, the main characters aren’t the stereotypical hero that finds themselves in extraordinary circumstances unlocking their greater, more courageous versions of themselves at the moment of crisis. Rather, the characters’ involvement in the war is so normal it allows the reader to concentrate on the emotional transformation their army experience thrusts upon them. The impacts on their worldview and personal relationships at home and within the service are relatable to today’s veteran. Written in 1948, this novel had an immediate impact on the popular understanding of World War II.
Although Shaw’s narrative covers a lot of ground, from the 1930s to 1945, the progression doesn’t feel rushed or unnatural. In fact, it helps that he avoids the major battles of the war, using the interludes to prod the characters into different emotional conflicts and self-realizations. In the end, it’s a tragic human story played alongside one of the greatest of humanity’s calamities.
To make my list of recommendations, I would draw your attention to the way fiction, just like other forms of art, can impress upon the reader an emotional connection to the topic. There are passages within The Young Lions that are more valuable to someone willing to learn about war. Non-fiction works aren’t able to fully capture the emotion of love and loss, there are few moving sermons quoted in the history books, and the symbolism of a well-crafted story can resonate across a generation. From Irwin Shaw comes these powerful and consistently applicable warnings about the savagery of war:
“The enemy is more savage than a tiger, hungrier than the shark, crueler than the wolf; in honor and in defense of our modest way of life, we stand up to him and combat him, but in doing so we out-tiger him, out-shark the shark, over-wolf the wolf. Will we at the end of all this then pretend to ourselves that the victory is ours? The thing we defend perishes from our victory as it would never perish from our defeat. . . Kill, if you must, because in our weakness and in our error, we have found no other road to peace, but kill remorsefully, kill with a sense of sorrow, kill with economy for the immortal souls who leave this life in battle, carry mercy in your cartridge cases, forgiveness in your knapsacks, kill without revenge, because vengeance is not yours but the Lord’s, kill, knowing that each life you spend makes your life that much the poorer.”
Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.
Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author.