Tag Archives: World War II

What We’re Reading – The Soul in Cycling

Lanterne Rouge: The Last Man in the Tour de France by Max Leonard

“Normal people feel an attachement to a guy that is struggling through the Tour just to survive in the race, because that’s what normal people on bikes would do. They’re not superstars like the guys at the front end of the peloton. It’s equally as hard for the guys at the front, but they get results. The guys at the back are suffering like hell just to get to the finish.” – Phil Liggett

It took the COVID pandemic for me to return to the bicycle after over a decade away. For the most part I’ve ridden alone. On the occasions I’ve ridden with other, more experienced riders I’ve regularly been outpaced and out-climbed. Really as a late convert to cycling I’ve aged past the era of optimism for achieving greatness in the sport. I don’t identify with the champions and the feats of prowess on two wheels. No, I’m just happy to be in the peloton. 

Foolishly I signed up for a race less than a month after purchasing my first road bike last year. Unsurprisingly, my 15-20 mile Sunday morning rides were inadequate preparation for the Southwold-Roubaix. After 44 miles I absolutely ran out of gas. “Bonked,” I later learned, is the correct term. Too bad that the course was 57 miles and only my pride carried me to the finish.

Which brings me to another term I’ve whole-heartedly wrapped my arms around: Lanterne Rouge. On the railroad a red lantern is hung on a train’s caboose to signal the station master the last car of the train. It’s also a signal that no cars had broken free and remained stranded on the track. Lanterne Rouge has also been adopted by the press of the Tour de France to describe the last rider to complete the Tour without abandoning the race or being eliminated for missing the time cutoff. In this term I identify with the mentality of a rider certain of missing victory, but still persisting to the finish line. 

Max Leonard, a British author and cycliste, explores the history and meaning of the lanterne rouge. As Leonard reveals, lanterne rouge does indeed capture the heroic hopelessness of the last rider, but it also the complicated relationship between sportsmanship, capitalism, honor and ignominy. In his book he tells stories of twelve lanternes rouges and the different facets their tale reveals about the term. 

 Each chapter offers something unique, so I’d be doing a disservice if I tried to summarize them. However, I can’t emphasize enough how much I appreciate Leonard’s approach to the complexity of the lanterne rouge and overlaying it with the complexity of life and one’s legacy.

Higher Calling: Cycling’s Obsession With Mountains by Max Leonard

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses . . . then, I account it high time to get to altitude as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flouish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the bicycle.” – Max Leonard

This is the second book from Max Leonard that I’ve read and the second book that combines historical context with the philosophy of cycling. Needless to say, I’m a fan. In these pages he takes the reader into higher altitudes and teaches, philosophizes, and researches the draw of cycling up (and down) mountains. Historically, he decides to narrow his narrative to the peculiarities of the French Alps, specifically the Cime de la Bonette. 

Competition is a central component of cycling. The human desire to pass another at the finish line or to challenge oneself to improve one’s performance are strong motivators each time someone gets into the saddle. However, when the incline increases the mountain takes over. A man and bike are all set against the unforgiving pull of gravity and the force to overcome it. Despite all his training and experience cycling up mountains Leonard admits that it never gets any easier – he only gets faster. 

In professional racing, adding mountainous elements came about as an evolution. Early 20th Century roads through the mountain passes were primitive and undeveloped. Often unpaved, mired in mud, exposing riders to frigid temperatures and brutal windchill on descents. Adding Alpine stages to the Tour de France and Giro d’Italia took daring, salesmanship, and suffering. It’s no wonder heroic exploits in the mountains are fondly remembered and the routes themselves revered within the cycling community.

In addition to the history of categorized climbs in professional cycling races, Leonard introduced me to the concept of Everesting – the endeavor to gain elevation equivalent to the summit of Mount Everest – even at the pain of cycling the same hill 68 times in a day. He discusses the science of training at higher altitudes, the natural and artificial ways to elevate oxygen in red blood cells. He also reflects on the military history behind the construction of concrete bunkers high above the French-Italian border and the brutal fighting in the frozen terrain of the Dolomites between the Italian and Austro-Hungarian soldiers during World War I. 

Leonard brings the seasonal life of the highest cycling routes to full life. He interviews shepherds witnessing the decline of their traditional ways. He joins the work crews as they cut through a winter’s worth of snow and ice to re-open the mountain passes in time for spring. And he speaks of the Bonette as if it were an old friend. Reliable, strong, and always ready to entertain a challenger or two.

Le Secret de Gino Bartali by Kike Ibáñez

“Gino était un cycliste de ceux d’avant, qui fumaient et buvaient du vin, de ceux qui avaient appartenu au cyclisme épique, au cyclisme réservé aux héros.”

“Gino was a cyclist of those before, who smoked and drank wine, of those who had belonged to epic cycling, to cycling reserved for heroes.”

I stepped into a bookstore in Marseille to find some relief from the rain on a cool autumn day. Among the shelves and stacks of colofrul books the soft pink cover of Kike Ibáñez’s Le Secret de Gino Bartali stood out. I can’t remember the last time I read a comic book or graphic novel, but the alluring title pulled me right in. 

Gino Bartali was one of Italy’s greatest cyclists and his rivalry with Fausto Coppi is legendary. However, this book dwells briefly on Barali’s cycling credentials on its way to telling a story of his resistance activity during the Second World War. Gino Bartali used his cycling fame to ride between Florence (Firenza) and Assise where he transported falsified documents to help Italian Jews escape the fascist regime of Mussolini. 

The drawings are beautifully done and the language simple enough for the novice French linguist. Not all of cycling’s history is often written in the great races, and this short book is an excellent addition to any library.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

What We’re Reading This Month – August 2020

This past month has been a busy one. As society emerges from months of isolation the demands of stir-crazy families, a modern economy, and extended work hours in our day jobs has drastically cut down on the available reading time. I’ve turned to a few audiobooks during my commute to feed my appetite, but have still managed to read a few pages each night from a trusty hardbound, real-life book. This month’s reading selection features a mix of what was on-hand and what was easy to consume in these days.


The centerpiece for my reading this month has been The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson. Since last autumn I have been eagerly awaiting its release. There are few authors I’ve bothered to set up a Google Alert for, and he is one of them. For Father’s Day this year my wife purchased it for me and which fit neatly into the mental space I’ve made for the 80th Anniversary of the Battle of Britain.

The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson

“And so, with family turmoil, civic trauma, and Hitler’s deputy falling from the sky, the first year of Churchill’s leadership came to an end. Against all odds, Britain stood firm, its citizens more emboldened than cowed. Somehow, through it all, Churchill had managed to teach them the art of being fearless.”

In true Larson style, he weaves the historical narrative of the Battle of Britain, which began this month in 1940, with that of the human experiences of Winston Churchill, his family and closest associates in his first year as prime minister. Historical figures, especially the giants like Churchill, can be so famous that we view them as a two-dimensional version of themselves. Larson’s true skill is drawing out primary sources – letters, diaries, speeches, etc. – from the unlikely corners of history to inflate these 2D oversimplifications into three-dimensional, flesh and blood people with human foibles, emotions, and insecurities when the outcome of monumental events were uncertain. 

Furthermore, Larson reveals a wartime England that still clung to the normalities of life. Air raid sirens, shelter wardens, and rubble have been well-captured by history, but it was also a time when night clubs stayed open, debutantes were still presented to society, and the love-struck sought flowers and chocolate to express their affections. Probably the most memorable chapter for me describes the night of Queen Charlotte’s dance of 8 March 1941 and the death of jazz band leader Kenrick “Snackhips” Johnson as bombs rained down on central London and exploded into packed hotels, night clubs, and shopping districts. 

The Splendid and the Vile showed that Londoners didn’t simply turtle into a year-long shell only to emerge when the Nazi’s turned their military attention to invading the Soviet Union in May of 1941 True, many nights were spent sleeplessly awaiting the Luftwaffe, fighting fires, and digging the wounded and the dead from the rubble. But other nights were spent with lovers, dancing in clubs, courtship, and adultery. Churchill’s family enjoyed the privileges of the privileged society and spent weekends in the country in comfortable homes and exceeding their ration coupons. It was an exciting time to be alive for the English and the prospect of nightly death sharpened their appreciation for life. Larson magnificently portrays how life went on in England through the stories of Churchill’s daughter, Mary Churchull, and private secretary, John Colville who had their own stories of love and disappointment.

WIth this book I have renewed appreciation for Larson’s writing and added respect for the English spirit as they persevered with living and fighting when the second world war seemed the most hopeless and bleak.

Fighter: The True Story of the Battle of Britain by Len Deighton

“The Luftwaffe, hitherto a tactical supplement to the blitzkrieg, a force that had taken orders from the army, was about to take upon itself a strategic role. Moreover, it was asked to create a strategy, and then to translate that strategy into day-to-day tactical objectives for its bombers and fighters. The experience of its staff officers was not equal to this task.”

It’s been in my head for months to learn about the Battle of Britain while living in England. 2020 marks the 80th anniversary of the start of the battle and there are several events across the country to mark England’s success in defeating the Luftwaffe’s attempts to crush the Royal Air Force and England’s fighting spirit. I’ve sung the praises of Len Deighton for years. He’s one of my father’s favorite authors and his Cold War spy thrillers are some of the most enjoyable reads I have in the past five years. He’s also had success writing alternative histories – which have been converted into a television series. Deighton has also written some histories, and with his storyteller’s pen, has done an excellent job of making them readable and digestible

While he tells a remarkable narrative, Deighton does analyze the Battle of Britain beyond the mythical heroic Royal Air Force pilots and their advanced Spitfire and rugged Hurricane fighter aircraft. He delves into British aircraft production, the Luftwaffe staff shortcomings, German short sightedness. Probably the greatest feat Deighton reveals is the immense difficulty and achievement in the logistical balancing needed to build, employ, and maintain the Royal Air Force Fighter Command at a time when wooden-framed, cloth-covered aircraft were still in the British inventory. It’s a quick read and the way he organized his sections I was able to read a little at a time without having to commit to a full study of the battle.

The Lemon Tree: An Arab, a Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East by Sandy Tolan

“I struggle for your rights despite my fears. But your rights have to be balanced against our needs for survival. That is why you cannot be satisfied. For you, every viable solution will always be lacking in justice. In a peace plan, everybody will have to do with less than they deserve.”

In a departure from the Battle of Britain theme, I downloaded the audiobook of The Lemon Tree for my commute into work. In a vary Erik Larons-esque style, Tolan weaves the long history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict with the story of a single home built by an Arab family and later occupied by an Jewish family. The home, and the lemon tree that was planted in the garden, become the focal point for all of the contradictions, injustices, and mutual hope that characterizes the evolving conflict. It’s a story looking backwards, not a solution looking forward, but it’s greatest feature is the empathy a reader can gain for both sides. 

I listened to this as an audiobook and hearing the stories orally added an additional layer of hurt to the injustice.

The 33 Strategies of War by Robert Greene

“The prudent man might seem cold, his rationality sucking pleasure out of life. Not so. Like the pleasure-loving gods on Mount Olympus, he has the perspective, the calm detachment, the ability to laugh, that comes with true vision, which gives everything he does a quality of lightness – these traits comprising what Nietzsche calls the ‘Apollonian ideal.” . . . Odysseus loved adventure; no one was better at the experience of pleasure. He was simply more reasonable, more balanced, less vulnerable to his own emotions and moods, and he left less tragedy and turmoil in his wake. . .  . In a world where people are increasingly incapable of thinking consequentially, more animal than ever, the practice of grand strategy will instantly elevate you above others.”

Finally, the end of my COVID-induced physical separation and work absence has given way to a rushing return to the office. A backlog of emails, papers, and activities to coordinate has eaten into the reading time I previously enjoyed. I turned to Robert Greene for a daily dose of professionally thought-provoking material. Having finished The 48 Laws of Power a few months prior I decided to pick up another of his works, this time The 33 Strategies of War. Each “law” is packaged into a chapter of historical case studies, analysis, related parables, and cautionary counter-examples. In short, Greene gives a readers’ digest of political-military content for the busy and the rushed. I tend to read a few pages each morning over coffee, allowing my brain to engage with the material as the caffeine stimulates my central nervous system.

Geared toward the non-military professional, The 33 Strategies of War employs lessons of past conflict for common usage. There may be some disappointment for those that view their industry as cutt-throat and hope to find practical advice on wielding the knife. It’s not prescriptive for action, but encourages the reader to think with a clear vision. 

Don’t expect to become a new Napoleon after reading this work, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself with a more ruthless inner monologue in your daily interactions.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases.

Victory in Europe 2020

My dear friends, this is your hour. This is not victory of a party or of any class. It’s a victory of the great British nation as a whole. We were the first, in this ancient island, to draw the sword against tyranny.”

Up and down the street red, white, and blue bunting appeared on gates and fences. World War II propaganda posters appeared in windows reminding us that “loose lips sink ships” and the Victory comes from a home garden.  I’ve seen more Union Jacks this week than at any time in the past two years. All of this leading up to the 75th Anniversary of Victory in Europe – the day Europe celebrated the Nazi surrender to the Allied forces.

1939 and 1940 were dark years for the British Empire. Great Britain found itself increasingly isolated as the nations of continental Europe collapsed before the Nazi war machine. With the British Army chased from Dunkirk, the Royal Navy sheltered in their ports, only the Royal Air Force (RAF) faced the German war machine in those early days. The Battle of Britain was truly a David and Goliath fight. While the German Goliath terrorized cities and ravaged the RAF, the British people were able to rally, defend their skies, and indefinitely stall the Nazi invasion of England. Only after Great Britain had survived the German onslaught did American military might come to bear in the European Theater of Operations. 

British pride is palpable at having battled the Nazi menace alone, waiting on Allies to appear, all the while Keeping Calm & Carrying On. It’s a pride still felt and celebrated annually. This year COVID-19 precautions precluded any public gatherings or celebrations. Except for the colorful decorations I expected the day to pass like any other during this pandemic. Yet, these past weeks the Brits have emerged from their homes each Thursday at 8 pm to applaud the National Health Service and Key Workers. On this Thursday, 7 May, it was different. The warm weather drew out my neighbors along the street. The applause lasted for ten minutes, but nobody returned home. From an upstairs speaker a neighbor played God Save the Queen and the Star Spangled Banner for the whole street to hear. 

The village pub had been closed these past two months, but the owners brought out tables and placed them up and down the street. They deposited beer bottles, plastic cups and open bottles of wine. Socially distanced, we all were able to take a drink. Neighbors chatted from the ends of their driveways and front doors. Others attempted to sing the White Cliffs of Dover and We’ll Meet Again from memory. And we all listened to Winston Churchill’s V-E Day speech – cheering the great man’s emotional words.

That night I rummaged through my office to find the Union Jack that my grandmother had given me almost 30 years ago. It was the only thing my great grandmother and grandfather brought over when they left southeast England for the United States. It’s hanging now in my office window. A bit faded and fraying in the corners, but still proud. The memories of World War II are fading as Great Britain’s Greatest Generation passes on, but the same British resolve their grandparents displayed will see today’s United Kingdom through the COVID pandemic and into a future “in which all have a chance, in which all have a duty” – Sir Winston Churchill, Prime Minister, 8 May 1945

Displaying the family flag, carried from England over a century ago. Photo by Andrew Zapf

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases.

What We’re Reading This Month – March 2020

Snowdon: The Story of a Welsh Mountain & The Hills of Wales by Jim Perrin

There is a pseudo-legend frequently recounted about Cwm Cau on Cader Idris, forty miles to the south: that to sleep there alone is to wake either as poet or madman, so sublime are the surroundings – Jim Perrin, Snowdon

Ever since I walked the Llanberis Trail to the summit of Mount Snowdon part of my brain has remained in northwestern Wales. The freezing summit and zero visibility wrapped the mountains in mystery. Before going I was vaguely aware of Snowdonia’s connection to the earliest British mountaineering pioneers, but not enough to speak smartly on the subject. There are a number of books on the subject, but Jim Perrin’s offered me an opportunity to dig a little deeper into Mount Snowdon’s history with Snowdon: The Story of a Welsh Mountain, which is a compact natural, mythical, and historical review of Snowdonia. 

He also seeks to give credit to the unnamed flora-seekers, shepherds, and guides for knowing the crags and crevices of Snowdon before the so-called discoveries by British hikers of a certain class.  The Hills of Wales is a collection of essays that Perrin has written over the decade, so it gives a more meandering look at the whole Welsh countryside. These two books are not appropriate for reading in a single sitting, but I revisit them each night when my mind absconds from daily concerns and returns to the mountains.

Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest by Wade Davis

One of the peculiar and unexpected outcomes of peace was the desire of many veterans to go anywhere but home. For those who survived, as Paul Fussel writes, travel became a source of irrational happiness, a moving celebration of the sheer joy of being alive. – Wade Davis

Relatedly, Into the Silence by Wade Davis came strongly recommended to me by Roland, a more accomplished and well-read climber. More than a story about the first attempts by Westerners to climb Mount Everest, it tells a wide-ranging story about the devastation of World War I on a generation of British climbers, on the classist Cambridge-Oxford-bred British climbing elites, and the evolution of a climbing as a pursuit of national pride and imperial symbolism. Davis delves into the lives of each of the personalities in the English climbing community, exploration of northern India and Tibet, politicians and diplomats, and others that play parts in the quest for Everest. He explores the upbringing, their relations to the mountaineering community, the strictures of their class and upbringing, and their experience/trauma of the First World War that “cleared the board,” so to speak, for this undertaking. I’m still working my way through this one, but it’s had an iron grip on my attention.

Flashpoint Trieste: The First Battle of the Cold War by Christian Jennings

By summer 1945, five sides faced each other around Trieste. Geo-political, strategic and diplomatic necessity forced all of them to communicate and negotiate with each other constantly. Anxious fingers needed to be kept off triggers. But nobody trusted the other. There were too many hidden agendas, promises made, assurances broken, vested interests and covert priorities. At the top of the Adriatic, Great Britain, the United States, Italy, Yugosalvia and Russia circled each other like nervous cats. And each nations’ storm-troopers of the Cold War, their intelligence agencies were in action. – Christian Jennings

Finally, I needed a book for a commute and picked one of the more pocket-sized paperbacks on my shelf. With my recent fascination with Italy, the outbreak of the coronavirus, and my love for historical complexity Flashpoint Trieste: The First Battle of the Cold War by Christian Jennings hits a sweet spot for my intellectual taste. Plain and simple, the Cold War wasn’t always a tale of two superpowers. It began with the convulsion of the post-World War I order – which was extremely volatile, even at the death of Adolf Hitler. This is a pretty straightforward history, but it gives nuance to a corner of World War II often overlooked with the sweeping gaze of 21st Century hindsight.

~ AZ

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases. 

Photo Essay: My Walk Through World War II History

In the past several months I’ve been neck deep in military history for several converging work-related reasons. 16 December marks the 75th Anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge, the beginning of it, anyway. With all of the accompaning remembrance events that go along with that, I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention sometime – especially since I was able to visit Bastogne only last month.  I don’t specifically aspire to write military history of my own, but there are stories that I wish to tell of the uncommon men and warfare is often the most dramatic backdrop to human life. Rather than write an article or vignette on the Battle of the Bulge or the B-17 bombers based in England, I’ve assembled a few photos tell a visual story that I’ve been investing these past few months.

I’ll begin the story in England, specifically East Anglia. The southeast corner of England bulges out into the English channel, and its flat terrain swept by strong North Sea winds makes for a natural place to build an airfield. And build they did, especially during World War II. At the height of the air campaign there was a Royal Air Force or US Army Air Forces airfield every 8 miles. The local population was overrun by bomber crews, their base support personnel, and the whole machinery of running the Strategic Bombing campaign against Nazi Germany. When the war ended, the bases emptied out suddenly and completely. Some bases reverted to Royal Air Force control, and some were lost to history. However, the towns and villages around the area still carry traces of the once and mighty air forces of the Allied nations.

Around where I live, there are still village signs that incorporate Spitfires and P-51 Mustangs, B-17 Flying Fortresses and Lancaster bombers into their heraldry. In pubs and restaurants there are ghosts of the airmen that rested their elbows and shared a pint with their English hosts. Cambridge has one of the most famous, The Eagle, and one I usually stop into when in the city.

The Eagle Pub in Cambridge is always crowded with students and tourists. My favorite corner is the RAF Bar, named for the popularity The Eagle had with bomber crews from the surrounding airfields. I've written about The Eagle before (click for link). Within the RAF Bar, at The Eagle, the decor has become very militarized with pictures of aircraft and stickers from squadrons and air force units from across the world. But the real draw is the ceiling, which still bears the scars of flame, lipstick, and pen - reminders of the young bomber crews (and their dates) that left there mark there - before making their mark in the war. Photo by Andrew Zapf
The ceiling of the RAF Bar at The Eagle. Photo by Andrew Zapf

If you’ve traveled through France, you can’t help but notice the World War I and II memorials that seem to accompany every town square. English towns memorialize their lost sons, but frequently they reflect the cost bore by the English people during the Battle of Britain and their entire experience a stone’s throw from Nazi Europe. In country fairs old military vehicles get dragged out of garages and sheds and privately owned vintage aircraft take to the skies. Britain doesn’t associate itself strongly with the land war of World War II as much as it does with the sounds and sights of the Royal Air Force. The romanticism of flying nests beautifully with the imagery of Arthurian knights defending virtue in single combat. Pilots, and the airwar, have been mythologized as modern day knights, their noble horses replaced with aluminum airframes. The aircraft of World War II loom large in the British memory.

This panel from the USAAF Memorial at the Imperial War Museum Duxford represents all the bombers lost by the 303rd Bomber Group (Heavy). Just a single bomber group. Each silhouette represents a crew of ten men. Photo by Andrew Zapf
The lines of a B-17 Flying Fortress are absolutely beautiful on the ground. In the air the men inside bonded closer than brothers as they battled the Luftwaffe and German Air Defenses in the frozen skies over Germany. Thousands of these bombers were built, crewed, and flew in battle. The few remaining museum pieces are a faint reminder of the might and terror that the US 8th Air Force was during World War II. This B-17, the Sally B, is the only airworthy B-17 in Europe. The childhood airshows I've attended had B-17s, but I plan on seeing her fly when the next season of airshows in England kick off in the Spring. The unique sound of these early, powerful engines makes a kind of music unheard anywhere else in motorsports. Photo by Andrew Zapf
In early autumn I attended a vintage airshow at The Shuttleworth Collecion. Above the crowds flew Hurricanes, Spitfires, P-51 Mustangs, and a Lancaster Heavy Bomber. While not as fast as jet aircraft of later eras, these planes have an unmatched grace to them. Photo by Andrew Zapf
A British Lancaster Bomber flying over Biggleswade, England. Photo by Andrew Zapf

Here is where the story turns personal. In 1942, a 24 year old sergeant came to England as part of the growing American army poised to liberate Nazi-occupied Europe. Michael Zapf, my grandfather, stood on these lands a few months before his units entered combat. It would change him forever and the course of his life. I like to think that the sun shines on the brave, and he must have lived under the brightest of skies. His legacy hangs over me to this day and being able to walk in his literal footsteps has deep personal significance. 

Further north, near Nottingham, there is a marker in a small village to the 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment. This regiment stayed on the grounds of Tollerton Hall before jumping into Normandy as part of the D-Day invasion in 1944. Photo by Andrew Zapf
A closer look at the plaque. One of the soldiers of the 507th PIR was my grandfather, Sergeant Michael Zapf. One day I hope to tell his remarkable life story.
While visiting Tollerton Hall I stopped to have lunch with my father, brother, and son at Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem. It claims to be the oldest pub in the world, but more relevantly, it probably saw soldiers of the 507th PIR during their brief stay in England. I wonder what SGT Zapf would have said if he knew his son, grandson, and great grandson were having pints in the same place he did before he jumped into the night sky over France. Photo by Andrew Zapf

The final stop of this tour lies in the Ardennes region of Belgium. I was fortunate to participate in a professional development trip to study the Battle of the Bulge, only a month before the 75th anniversary. In addition to the work-related purpose of my visit, I again found myself in the footsteps of my grandfather. Tens of thousands of men participated in the Battle, not just the few under siege in Bastogne. The German offensive produced a large “bulge” in the American line, and units from across Europe did the hard work of reversing the Nazi advance. On one of those edges pushed the 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment, then attached to the 17th Airborne Division. They fought in the snow, suffered death and frostbite, and some lived to tell about it.  

Almost 75 years to the day, I was driving through the Ardennes forest, making my way towards Bastogne. The frozen fog and fresh snow was eerily similar to every photo and movie depiction of the Battle of the Bulge. Photo by Andrew Zapf
The Ardennes forest, regrown after 75 years, hauntingly waits for the deep winter to embrace it. Photo by Andrew Zapf
When the fog lifted slightly, and I could see the rolling hills in the distance, I couldn't help but think that the Ardennes region of Belgium looked like Pennsylvania. Photo by Andrew Zapf
The 507th PIR, and my grandfather along with it, were to join the Battle of the Bulge. This patch, of the 507th's parachuting spider logo, which resides in the 101st Airborne Division Museum in Bastogne, is one of the few links between the 507th of D-Day and the regiment that returned to battle in late 1944. Photo by Andrew Zapf
The 507th PIR was transferred from the famed 82nd Airborne Division to form an experienced corps, along with two raw regiments to create the 17th Airborne Division. The division would fight through mud and snow in Belgium before participating in Operation Varsity. SGT Zapf, again, among them. Photo by Andrew Zapf
Many of the museums used life-sized dioramas to convey the difficult battle conditions and the horror of war. I found the exhibits in the museums of Bastogne to be compelling and emotional. Photo by Andrew Zapf
In a museum in Bastogne, this diorama of a 17th Airborne Division mortarman, sitting against a frozen farmhouse wall made me feel colder than all the rest. Photo by Andrew Zapf
The town of Bastogne didn't celebrate the Battle of the Bulge the way towns in Normandy celebrate liberation. Bastogne was liberated in September 1944, only to suffer a siege and devestation in December. Photo by Andrew Zapf
There were preparations for the 75th anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge in Bastogne. Frosted window paintings of smiling soldiers and shrapnel-shredded steel helmets decorated many shops. But this mannequin in this butcher's window was the most memorable for me - I can't explain it. Photo by Andrew Zapf

Again, I didn’t set out to read and write so much about World War II these past few months. I simply found it all around me and couldn’t ignore it. The pieces I’ve seen have tied together for me into a complex picture of what it really means to have a world at war. 

The Luxembourg American Cemetery was the final stop on the journey. Along with aircrew killed over Europe, casualties of the Battle of the Bulge, and the body of General George S. Patton, lie several dozen unknown men - known only to god. Photo by Andrew Zapf

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author.

World War II: Strategic Bombing Campaign

“From recently built bases in East Anglia, a new kind of warfare was being waged – high-altitude strategic bombing. It was a singular event in the history of warfare, unprecedented and never to be repeated. The technology needed to fight a prolonged, full-scale bomber war was not available until the early 1940s and, by the closing days of that first ever bomber war, was already being rendered obsolete by jet engine aircraft, rocket-powered missiles, and atomic bombs.” – Masters of the Air, Prologue

It seems to me that some in England have a fetish for the 1940s. During World War II, London was still the center of a vast world-wide empire. It was a time when its citizens were lauded for remarkable resilience during the Nazi Blitz. The British can rightly hang their hat on the inspiration of their wartime Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, who carried the mood of the nation on his shoulders. Museums stand across the nation on the sites of former World War II headquarters and stations vital to the war – Churchill’s War Rooms in London, Bletchley Park – home of the enigma code breakers, and others. Seasonally, towns across the island celebrate with 1940s-themed events where vintage fashions and vintage cars are revived along with period Big Band music. Even my town’s local property preservation company advertises itself as The Damp Busters, complete with an image of a Lancaster bomber. The name is derived from the 1955 World War II film The Dam Busters, not the most obvious reference in 2019.

England’s remembrance is tinged with a large dose of nostalgia that ignores some of the commonplace contributions of the English countryside. In my daily work I constantly encounter names of former Royal Air Force (RAF) bases that housed RAF and United States Army Air Forces (USAAF) squadrons. Names such as Alconbury, Wyton, Bassingbourn, Molesworth, and the like. Most of the bases have long since been reclaimed by the villages’ farmers, transformed into other military installations, or simply memorialized on local village signs (insert picture of village sign). However, these names are also the last reminders of the greatest air campaign and largest bomber force the world has ever seen. I reckon that there is no time in the history of human aviation where more human beings took to the skies than during the massive 1,000-plane missions of 1943-1945.

I have begun digging into the Strategic Bombing Campaign out of personal interest and professional curiosity. As the Masters of the Air quote above indicates, the advocates and planners of strategic bombing were pioneers in aviation and warfare unrivaled by anything in history in regards to technological complexity, marshalling of resources, and sheer power of destructive force. The books reviewed below are just the tip of the iceberg on this subject, but one I’m inclined to continue exploring.

“Visitors to the bases noticed that there was something wrong with these boys. Most of them were ‘quiet, edgy, morose.’ And many of them drank tremendously and lived only for the day; they lacked the sweeping horizons and large dreams of most boys their age. The replacements arrived excited and eager to perform, but that usually lasted less than a week. Soon they, too, had that ‘look.’ 

One evening, Ben Smith joined a volleyball game in progress. It was the strangest thing he had ever experienced. No one laughed, no one shouted, no one made a sound. ‘The entire game was played in silence.’”

During World War II, the men that signed up for the United States Army Air Corp, later the United States Army Air Forces, fought the newest type of warfare ever imagined. They rode in the biggest aircraft ever designed with the Allies most secret technology – the Norden bombsight. But the cost of living on this frontier were punishingly brutal lessons taught in this new school. Donald Miller gives a rich voice to the stories of these men as their endurance and resilience was tested during an oft-romanticized theater of war. While the men flew in the wild blue yonder, and slept on white sheets in an Allied country, the bomber crew casualty rates exceeded any other theater of war, until the full commitment of ground forces with the invasion of Normandy in 1944. 

The bombing campaign chewed through men and equipment at astonishing rates. Men suffered in sub-zero temperatures, thrashed by dogged German anti-bomber schemes, and continuously bore the trauma of their dead and wounded. This book is tremendous in marrying the personal stories and anecdotes with the necessary historical information to give them broader context. This is the book that needed to be written as the World War II generation slowly, and eternally, slips entirely into history. It should be no surprise that this book is being made into an HBO series, à la Band of Brothers, so this is certainly worth reading now to give that future viewing experience an even deeper meaning.

“The bombing was in fact so imprecise that the Germans, seeing bombs scattered across hundreds of miles, were genuinely unaware of what the target was. The RAF suffered high casualties in the process. . .

If it was impossible to bomb precisely, then there were only two choices: bomb imprecisely or don’t bomb at all. There was no other way of hitting back, and an end to bombing was unthinkable. British forces had been driven from the Continent, and reestablishing a British military presence was out of the question. . . All that was left was area bombing.”

If Masters of the Air is that book that needed to be written to tell the human story of the Strategic Bombing Campaign, then Fire and Fury is the book that needs to be read to appreciate the immensity of the undertaking along with the moral burden on the decision makers during its implementation. Randall Hansen asks and attempts to answer the two biggest questions of the bombing campaign against Germany. Was it effective, and was it justified? At the heart of his analysis is the employment of area bombing by the British Royal Air Force, targeting civilian morale, versus American precision bombing of Germany’s industry. Hansen brings the reader from the pre-war discussions all the way through the final missions over Berlin in 1945. His discussion of the ethics and morals is accompanied by the ugly data of Total War making a powerful argument and important read. Despite the serious nature of Hansen’s topic I found the writing tremendously engaging.

In our own era of cyber threats and the possible militarization of outer space, it is critical to remember that our predecessors grappled with the moral implications of the newest technologies and most modern method of waging war. We can fortify ourselves knowing that in the greatest war the world has ever known, a Total War, many of them still chose to value human life.

Depictions of the Strategic Bombing campaign are useful in contextualizing the above-mentioned books. Twelve O’Clock High, already widely known as a Hollywood classic, depicts the immense mental strain the bomber crews and commanders had on them during the war. While, the PG-13-rated 1990 film, Memphis Belle, captures the strain bomber crews sustained while flying their missions, albiet with every cliche imaginable. Finally, the actual Memphis Belle crew was featured in a World War II documentary film and released during the war. I’m especially drawn to this short film for its World War II-era footage of the air bases and the immense logistical and personnel requirements needed to keep the bombers flying day-in and day out.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author.  

War and Hemingway

Courage is “grace under pressure.”  

Ernest Hemingway as quoted by Dorothy Parker in her November 1929 New Yorker profile.

I hesitated before writing this article.  There are few individuals who have had as much ink spilled on their behalf than Hemingway.  A literary titan in his own time, he remains a larger than life figure whose full-throttled life full of sport, violence, women, and drink (and not necessarily in that order) has now become almost a cliche.  In our changing times, much of what people found attractive about Hemingway is now looked at askance, if not downright disdain…and.. Yet he remains both a guiding star and cautionary tale for those who seek out a certain type of life-rich in adventure, a similar ethos to that we attempt to capture on Pushinghorizons.com

In fact, while Andy and I were pressed against the barricades in the medieval city of Siena, waiting in the hot sun for men to recklessly ride horses against each other around the Campo, I couldn’t help but notice the young American college student next to us, with a battered Hemingway paperback tucked under his arm.  My first thought was “of course” that is what he is reading. My second thought, upon reflection, was “of course” that is what he is reading, and why not. I too had been drawn to Hemingway’s work as a young man and after moving to Italy, I recently dusted off my old college copy of A Farewell to Arms to discover anew the feel of retreat from Caporetto in World War I.   In spite of, and beyond, the caricature, Hemingway’s terse prose-which revolutionized writing- hold timeless truth, just as he intended. 

While living the life that would provide Hemingway the copy for his books, he experienced much of the armed conflict which dominated the twentieth century.  From his time as an ambulance driver on the Italian Front in the First World War, where he was wounded, to the Cold War twilight struggle that hovered around his estate near Havana during the Cuban Revolution, it seems Hemingway sought out war, all the while emphasizing its tragedy. 

As a journalist, he witnessed the war which led to the creation of modern Turkey, the Spanish Civil War, and the convoluted fighting in China; both between the Chinese and against Japan.  During the Second World War, he chased German U-boats in the Caribbean before accompanying the 4th Infantry Division from Normandy to the Huertgen Forest. In his typical penetrating insight, he captured the human aspect of war and was forever haunted, it seems, by the decisions he made as a participant in such conflict.  Many men fought more than him in the twentieth century, and some men can write better. But I can think of very few who write as well and experienced as much war as old Hemingway. The following three works are a window into Hemingway’s view of human conflict and the experiences he had which shaped those views.   

Men at War, edited by Ernest Hemingway in 1942

“When you go to war as a boy you have this great illusion of immortality.  Other people get killed; not you…Then when you are badly wounded the first time you lose that illusion and you know it can happen to you.  After being severely wounded two weeks before my nineteenth birthday I had a bad time until I figured out that nothing could happen to me that had not happened to all men before me.  Whatever I had to do men had always done. If they had done it then I could do it too and the best thing was not to worry about it.”

-From the Introduction to Men at War

A forgotten gem in the pantheon of Hemingway works, this book was created in the heady patriotic atmosphere of America’s entry into World War Two.  In coordination with a Marine Corps Officer who was a good friend of his, Hemingway collected what he believed were the most insightful works on armed conflict in one single volume.  When reading the work, it becomes clear that the intended audience were the millions of American citizens who were joining the military and would soon be entering combat. Hemingway included everything from historical accounts of medieval warfare to what was then recent fictional works from the Second World War and organized them in accordance with Clausewitz’s various definitions of war.  

I found that the various works included by Hemingway were all powerful stories on humankind’s deadly addiction to violent competition.  For modern readers, it is also interesting to see what one of America’s greatest writers thought was great war writing. For example, he insisted that all of Stephen Cranes’ Red Badge of Courage on bravery and cowardice in the American Civil War be included.   In spite of the patriotic atmosphere in which it is published, and Hemingway’s clear commitment to defeat the fascist forces, he does not shy away from highlighting the tragedy and suffering which Clausewitz highlighted as the realm of war. 

Hemingway On War, edited and with an introduction by Sean Hemingway.

“German prisoners who had been taken by irregulars were often as cooperative as head waiters or minor diplomats.  In general we regarded the Germans as perverted Boy Scouts. This is another way of saying they were splendid soldiers.  We were not splendid soldiers. We were specialists in a dirty trade. In French we said, “un metier tres sale.”

From the short story Black Ass at the Cross Roads

Hemingway’s grandson collected much of Hemingway’s writings on war in this book first published in 2003.  It highlights the great breath of both his experiences and his work. There are the rough short stories Hemingway wrote after World War I, selections from his play on espionage in the Spanish Civil War, and his correspondence as a journalist on Mustafa Kemal’s rise to power during the Greco-Turkish War.  One of the most poignant short stories I found in the book describes the deep sadness which infects the narrator after his band of French resistance fighters kill a young German soldier fleeing the Allied Advance from Normandy. An excerpt of which is above. The book is an excellent single repository of Hemingway’s own words on war.

Writer, Sailor, Soldier, Spy: Ernest Hemingway’s Secret Adventures, 1935-1961. by Nicholas Reynolds.

“After a few months of work, I started to see the outline of a Hemingway portrait that was very different from the others I had known.  The writer had-almost obsessively I thought-tried his hand at various forms of spying and fighting on two continents from 1937 on, before and during World War II.  The way stations were varied, often exotic: the battlefields of Spain, the back streets of Havana, a junk on the North River in China. He seemed to gravitate to men and women who operated on their own in the shadows.”

Although I have waited to discuss this book until the end of this article, I won’t withhold the startling thesis.  The author argues, convincingly, that Ernest Hemingway was a source for the Soviet NKVD, a precursor of the KGB. My first inclination would be to dismiss such an accusation as an exaggerated claim of a passionate doctoral student desperate to stand out from his peers.  However, Reynolds was the official historian of the Central Intelligence Agency Museum and a career intelligence and Marine Corps Officer. He makes a convincing argument that Hemingway’s communist sympathies, disillusionment with America’s neutrality in the Spanish Civil War, as well as his fascination with both adventure and intrigue led him to be recruited by NKVD.  The damning evidence is limited to reports from the Soviet intelligence archives during the small window after the end of the Cold War when there was access to such archives.  

Reynolds uses this admittedly slender evidence and weaves a convincing and fascinating story of Hemingway, that in many ways is the biography of a man drawn to adventure and conflict.  For not only did Hemingway work with Russian intelligence but he apparently also ran sources on behalf of the American government in Havana, led sanctioned U-boat hunting expeditions from his fishing boat, and organized a band of French resistance fighters who screened the Allied advance on Paris.  Reynold suggests, less convincingly, that Hemingway’s earlier dalliance with the Soviet Intelligence Service drove a paranoia later in life, during the cold war, that resulted in his ultimate suicide. This is a window into Hemingway’s life which enriches and explains the impetus behind the two books above.  It is a fascinating story, one which I was unaware of when I read his legendary fiction as a young man, and highlights why Hemingway is both a guiding star and cautionary tale for those who seek out adventure. 

Roland Minez is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. 

Understanding War Through Fiction

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.

“Well, we’ve become adult without the help of our traditional leaders; we have fought wars in which they took no part and undertaken journeys on which they were unwilling to accompany us.”

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.

“Hey, brother, we in a real nightmare,” Jackson finally said. “You just trust in Jesus,” Cortell said. They both knew these might be the last words they would exchange. “But keep you fuckin’ rifle out of the mud, too.” They touched hands again and Jackson turned to follow Mellas down the line.

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.