Published Airpower Journal - Fall 1998

To End a War by Ambassador Richard Holbrooke. Random House, 201 East 50th Street, New York City 10022, 1998, 432 pages, $27.95.

Richard Holbrooke’s To End a War is an extraordinarily rich and complex book. Additionally, it is a highly personal and frequently compelling account of what might come to be regarded as a watershed in US foreign relations following the cold war: the decision of the United States to commit itself—both diplomatically and militarily—to the implementation of peace in Bosnia-Herzegovina. It is in fact Holbrooke’s admittedly partisan account of the interaction between the diplomatic corps and the military that places To End a War on the “must read” shelf. Those who read it carefully will be rewarded with unique insights into a wide range of foreign-policy processes not limited to war in the Balkans.

Holbrooke, former assistant secretary of state for European and Canadian affairs, led the diplomatic shuttle preceding the Dayton Conference and then served throughout the negotiations (1–21 November 1995) as the ranking American diplomat. To End a War is, however, far more than an annotated travelogue of mind-numbing meetings and endless travel. Holbrooke offers the reader a detailed and remarkably undiplomatic account of the personalities and negotiation processes involved. His portraits of principal protagonists, drawn with artist-like attention to human frailties, graphically illustrate the importance of individual personalities in shaping the character of nations. His observations on the success and failure of negotiations in a variety of locations, including Packy’s All-Sports Bar, offer plentiful raw material for a study of negotiation strategy. The dynamics that motivated Holbrooke and his team, however, remain the focal point. What drove them? What allowed them to succeed where others had failed?

The book is certain to be controversial. One point of controversy will be whether or not Holbrooke was politic to publish it with so many issues still unresolved. The narrative is a complex weave of many themes, running from the personal to the political. His reflections on missed opportunities (including one from Vietnam that inspired his later efforts in the Balkans) will no doubt catalyze speculation, approval, and disagreement. Was a peaceful disintegration of the Socialist Republic of Yugoslavia into its component republic and territories possible? Would early involvement of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) have mitigated the bloodshed? Once concluded, could the Dayton Agreement have been implemented more rapidly and effectively?

As noted above, one of the central themes that runs throughout To End a War is Holbrooke’s account of the interaction between diplomatic initiatives and military operations. He offers case studies of both the conflicts and pressures between military and diplomatic professionals and the measured application of military power as the means to achieve diplomatic ends. Holbrooke leaves no doubt that the military situation is the foundation from which diplomatic initiatives are undertaken: “The shape of the diplomatic landscape will usually reflect the balance of the forces on the ground” (page 73). Furthermore, he clearly understands that the military instrument can be—and in the case of the Dayton negotiations, was—effectively applied to shape that landscape. Airpower enthusiasts will note repeated references throughout the book to the efficacy of air strikes to discourage aggression and insure compliance. In retrospect, Holbrooke argues, “the best chance to prevent wars would have been to present the Yugoslavs with a clear warning that NATO airpower would be used against any party that tried to deal with the ethnic tensions of Yugoslavia by force” (page 28). In the course of his narrative, however, he tacitly acknowledges that the tragedies of Srbrenica and Sarajevo may have ultimately been necessary to catalyze the international consensus necessary for the conduct of air operations.

Holbrooke differentiates among at least five fundamentally different military actions in Bosnia: the United Nations (UN) mission prior to US engagement; the “Western offensive” or the Muslim-Croatian Federation; the NATO air campaign in August and September of 1995 (Operation Deliberate Force); the implementation of the military provisions of Dayton; and Implementation Force (IFOR) support to civilian authorities. The critical significance of the NATO air campaign for the negotiation process is clear. Less clear, however, is the criticism directed toward the military’s insistence on unity of command. Somewhat insensitive to the significance of the “chain of command,” Holbrooke argues that the air campaign might have been even more effective had he been able to deal directly with the commander—the US Air Force’s Michael E. Ryan, then a lieutenant general. “Informed discussions” between Holbrooke and General Ryan, however, were prevented by Adm Leighton W. “Snuffy” Smith Jr., who correctly insisted upon unity of command and strict control over tasking, staffing, and communication.

In the context of the air campaign, it is interesting to note that, coincident with the campaign, Holbrooke repeatedly encouraged the leaders of the Croat-Muslim Federation forces to pursue their Western offensive. His account of the diplomatic maneuvering that coordinated these “combined forces” operations is superb. Once the agreement was signed, NATO and allied ground forces under the command of Admiral Smith began to play an equally important part in ending the war.

Holbrooke’s observations on the deployment and the mission of the IFOR are perhaps among his most controversial. In particular, he is critical of the “minimalist” interpretation of support to civilian authority taken by Admiral Smith. One could argue that, given Admiral Smith’s successful execution of the IFOR mission, the minimalist approach was prudent. On the other hand, Holbrooke’s description of the theoretical cost of the minimalist approach merits thoughtful consideration.

Diplomatic initiatives and military operations are both instruments of state power. At the highest levels of government, where Holbrooke operates, this relationship is oftentimes as personal as it is institutional. Friction between civilian and military “factions” is unavoidable and is actually an essential ingredient of the foreign-policy implementation process. Rather than counterproductive, it is a healthy dynamic that builds on the collective experience of diplomatic and military leadership in order to evolve workable courses of action.

I once had a conversation with a high-ranking diplomat who espoused a theory about this professional friction. He explained that career soldiers spend much of their professional lives wringing the ambiguity out of problems. Career diplomats, on the other hand, spend their professional lives courting ambiguity, oftentimes building it into negotiations in order to allow room for negotiation and flexibility. A “clash of cultures” can occur both within and outside the US national-security arena and may, in fact, be endemic to US national-security decision making.

In summary, To End a War is a fast-paced narrative that is certain to become a classic on the shelf of primary-source diplomatic and military literature. Perhaps more importantly, it is also a stimulating invitation to a fresh, constructive debate on the evolution of US foreign policy, the coordination of diplomatic initiatives and military operations, and the inevitable friction that evolves as the United States pursues its foreign-policy objectives. Current unrest in the region highlights the importance of the issues so ably and vividly addressed by Richard Holbrooke.

Maj Gen Michael J. McCarthy, USAF
Stuttgart, Germany

The Origins of Western Warfare: Militarism and Morality in the Ancient World by Doyne Dawson. Westview Press, 5500 Central Avenue, Boulder, Colorado 80301-2877, 1996, 203 pages, $24.95.

In the short introduction to his excellent book, The Origins of Western Warfare, Doyne Dawson relates an instructive observation about his college teaching experience. In the 1980s, he taught military history to ROTC cadets, and at the same time, he served as a volunteer for several student peace organizations in Boston. Dawson talked with both groups about war but found he had to do so in different ways. In the first case, with the cadets, he primarily used strategic and tactical terms, while in the second case, with the peace activists, he spoke using moral terms. Both groups discussed many of the same issues, yet did so using languages that were foreign to the other group. Accordingly, Dawson points out, they could not communicate with each other nor could they understand the other’s position.

Professor Dawson’s clear and lucid text is a superb effort to bridge that communication gap. He does so with the coherent insight that only when both types of languages are used can the phenomena of war, particularly Western warfare, be discussed productively.

The essence of Dawson’s argument is that only by returning to our roots in the ancient world, first in primitive tribes with their warrior bands, then Greek city-states with their phalanxes, and subsequently, the Roman Empire with its legions can we understand the sources of our uniquely Western way of war. He notes that the main motivations of prehistoric warriors for going to war were revenge and honor. These motivations developed into paradigms of justice and group loyalty. The Greeks added one additional motivation, that of seeking the advantage, which evolved into the paradigm of raison d’état, which views war as a legitimate expression of a state’s power. Finally, the Romans refined all three notions into recognizable ideas familiar to contemporary audiences.

Using a short account of classical theories of war and imperialism, Dawson organizes these ideas into three major issues: moral, international, and constitutional. In the first case, warfare is viewed as an instrument of human and divine justice. This section includes an interesting discussion of the older doctrines of “just war” and “holy war,” which until recent times were assumed to have a place in the world order, as well as some thoughtful reflections on more modern theories of “defensism” and pacifism.

In the second case, warfare is seen as a legitimate instrument of foreign policy—raison d’état. This section includes a discussion of the Greek, and later Machiavellian, notion that states exist in a tough world environment and therefore must be prepared to use force when it is in their interest to do so.

Finally, in the third case, warfare is understood as an instrument of internal policy. In this section, the discussion of martial values goes beyond their functional role—defending the city or state—to a larger role of becoming a source of civic virtue and loyalty. Distinctions are also made between the concepts of militarism and “bellicism.”

The only shortcomings that can be cited in Dawson’s book are those of omission, not commission. His discussion of the origins of Western warfare and morality leaves the reader wanting to read more about their development throughout the medieval and modern eras. Likewise, a similar treatment of Eastern warfare and morality would be instructive and worthy, but as Dawson himself notes in the introduction, he is not qualified for the pursuit of such a project.

Overall, however, this is a wonderful book that allows one to easily follow the development of Western ideas about war and their corresponding paradigms of morality, strategy, and militarism through the disciplines of history and philosophy. I plan to use it in my next advanced military ethics course here at the Air Force Academy.

Lt Col John D. Becker, USA
USAF Academy, Colorado

Victory at Any Cost: The Genius of Viet Nam’s Gen. Vo Nguyen Giap by Cecil B. Currey. Brassey’s, Inc., 1313 Dolly Madison Boulevard, Suite 401, McLean Virgina 22101, 1997, 432 pages, $25.95.

Fascinating! Victory at Any Cost provides a paradigm shift into viewing the Vietnam War through our enemy’s eyes. Cecil B. Currey has performed a great service by carefully researching and presenting this biography of Vietnam’s leading general, Vo Nguyen Giap. The book argues that Giap was a military genius, successfully formulating winning strategies against three of the world’s major powers. Make no mistake, this book does not deify Giap. He was a totally ruthless individual, responsible for the murders of many fellow countrymen who posed a political threat. Currey spent five years thoroughly researching Giap’s life. He conducted interviews with Giap and several key colleagues. Currey recently retired as a professor of military history, University of South Florida, and from the US Army Reserve with the rank of colonel.

Born in 1911, Giap’s life parallels the rise of the anticolonial movement in Vietnam. A gifted student, Giap acquired a Western education in French-managed schools in Vietnam. Giap avidly studied military history. He could present schematics of Napoléon’s campaigns and major battles from memory. Already a vehement anticolonialist, Giap was introduced to Communist ideology, which he quickly adopted as his own. In the 1930s, while working as a teacher and journalist and covertly as a Communist propagandist, Giap became increasingly radical, advocating the revolutionary overthrow of the French. His value to the Communist movement was recognized in 1940 when he was ordered to seek refuge in Southern China. There he became acquainted with Ho Chi Minh and began plans for the formation of the Communist army. Giap proved to have a genius for organization and logistics, basically forming and equipping an army from the ground up with virtually no resources. One of Giap’s fundamental beliefs was the prerequisite for political indoctrination. He professed only properly politically indoctrinated troops would make the sacrifices necessary to obtain victory.

During World War II, Giap’s forces occasionally cooperated with US forces against the Japanese. Japanese surrender brought the return of French colonial rule and resulted in open hostilities between Communist forces and the French. Giap learned his trade by trial and error, learning from his mistakes. He gradually improved and expanded his forces and his logistical base of support. The harshness of the French rule furthered the Communist agenda by alienating the people.

One of Giap’s defining moments was the planning and execution of the defeat of the French garrison at Dienbienphu in 1954. There Giap used low-tech solutions such as undetectable underwater bridges, hand-carrying thousands of artillery rounds, and using thousands of civilians to dig trenches to within close proximity of French lines to surprise the defenders. Similar tactics would be used later against US forces engaged in Vietnam. Giap was a master of analyzing his opponents, identifying strengths to avoid as well as weaknesses to exploit. He correctly surmised that the American people would tire of the conflict and its continual drain of manpower and wealth. All along, his strategy was to take the long-term view, believing he eventually would be victorious if he simply outlasted his opponents. Giap broke with party lines and opposed the 1968 Tet offensive. He contended they were not ready for large-scale offensive operations. He was overruled by other senior party members and went on to develop the plan for the Tet offensive. The United States proved a tougher adversary than the French because of its massive firepower, modern technology, and greater mobility. Following Tet, Giap once again turned to low-tech solutions, using massive amounts of manpower to repair bomb damage and camouflage and deception to mask operations.

After Communist forces overran the South, Giap’s influence and power waned. In later years, he became more of a figurehead representing the party internationally and at ceremonial functions within Vietnam.

I do not hesitate to recommend Victory at Any Cost to all readers of the Airpower Journal. I totally enjoyed reading the book both because of the engrossing subject matter as well as the author’s writing style. Most importantly, the book conveys a different and yet very enlightening perspective of our involvement in Vietnam.

Lt Col Chris Anderson
Maxwell AFB, Alabama

The Luftwaffe: Creating the Operational Air War, 1918–1940 by James S. Corum. University Press of Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas 66049-3904, 1997, 378 pages, $39.95.

The development of the Luftwaffe in the interwar period, 1919–38, is an accomplishment unmatched by any other power. It also ought to provide some important lessons to modern military leaders and thinkers. Disarmed, demoralized, and under constant if not very vigilant observation, the Luftwaffe was to emerge as the most combat-effective air force in the world. Using new archival sources, Corum explains how the Luftwaffe resurrected itself with visionary planning. Opening with an overview of World War I German aviation history, he provides a complete and accurate account of the evolution of German military airpower theory, doctrine, war games, and operations between the two world wars. The Germans, in defiance of the Treaty of Versailles, thoroughly studied and tested the lessons of World War I, analyzed the emerging air doctrines of other nations, and experimented with innovative aviation technology to create a “shadow air force.” In creating the new air arm, the army, especially Hans von Seeckt, the first post–World War I chief of staff, was instrumental in keeping aviators in the Weimar army and supported the eventual creation of a separate air force. The old imperial General Staff and its post–World War I successor, the Truppenamt, realized in 1919 that Germany had been surprised by technology in the great battles of 1918 and needed to keep abreast of developments if it was to avoid strategic surprise on any future battlefield. Setting up a secret airfield inside Soviet Russia, thousands of pilots and ground-support personnel were cycled through training, giving the Germans valuable experience necessary for creating a viable operational doctrine. The Germans also exploited every loophole in the Treaty of Versailles in building police, reserve air arm, and civilian aeronautical establishments that allowed the military to train and created an air-mindedness that would serve the Luftwaffe well in later years.

An item that stands out among the many positive innovations in the German military during the interwar years is a complete and total lack of naval aviation. In later years, especially after the Nazis came to power and rearmament began in earnest, Hermann Göring and Adm Erich Raeder fought for control of naval air assets. There was no real development of naval air doctrine other than reconnaissance and artillery spotting. Thus, aircraft carriers were thought of as luxury items instead of an operational necessity that could benefit attack operations. Corum discloses the debates within the General Staff, led by Hans von Seeckt, Helmuth Wilberg, Wolfram von Richthofen, and Walther Wever, about the future role of airpower and the problems of aligning aviation technology with air doctrine. He challenges previous accounts and demolishes a number of myths. For example, he demonstrates that Germany did not dismiss the potential of strategic bombing or embrace terror bombing of civilian populations and that it was not heavily influenced by its popular culture’s romance with aviation. The Luftwaffe was organized along traditional lines with fighters, bombers, reconnaissance assets, dive-bombers, and transport aircraft. Its ability to cooperate with the army, far superior to any power opposing Germany in the 1930s, did not distract from the understanding and value of strategic bombardment. Lack of resources and politically imposed guidance, rather than lack of doctrine or operational strategy, kept the Luftwaffe from gaining a true strategic bomber force. The Luftwaffe also pushed the development of new technologies such as radios, cameras for reconnaissance, and coordination for air support between panzer and Luftwaffe units. As another cornerstone of German blitzkrieg strategy, paratroopers were established after the Germans were able to observe Soviet tests with smaller battalion-sized formations. Karl Student, who had an engineering degree, was able to convince the Luftwaffe to add gliders to this force and create a strategic strike force, allowing German paratroopers to seize fortresses and defeat the Dutch army in 1940 in five days.

Again, learning from its World War I experience, the Luftwaffe developed a comprehensive and sophisticated flak (antiaircraft) arm for defensive operations. The development of a series of medium- and heavy-caliber guns led to the creation of the famous 88 mm gun, which was also effective against armor. Also believing that it needed to create a defensive battle plan for its civilian population, the Luftwaffe formed an extensive civil air defense organization, which was exercised extensively before the outbreak of the war.

During the Spanish Civil War, the Luftwaffe was able to exercise its first- and second-generation aircraft. Its future commanders used this proving ground to test aircraft, doctrine, and tactics in preparing for future conflicts. Airlift, never really considered a strategic form of warfare, helped to achieve the breakthrough the nationalists needed to win the war. German Ju-52s ferried Gen Francisco Franco’s troops from Morocco to Spain, and the Luftwaffe conducted similar operations in Holland in 1940 and Crete in 1941, again achieving the battlefield dominance required for victory.

Battlefield mobility was also stressed as a force enhancer, and a ground infrastructure was built up in peacetime that would give the Luftwaffe great service during the 1940 campaigns in the West. Units and their support equipment could be quickly and effectively moved, ensuring that air support was close to the battle. This extensive organization was originally created to allow the Luftwaffe to shift its scarce resources quickly within Germany, but it was then adapted for the battlefield.

After 1933, Göring took over the reins of the Luftwaffe, but he made some key appointments that condemned the Luftwaffe to equipment that could not achieve the battlefield victories desired after 1941. Ernst Udet, who as chief of the technical office was responsible for the development of third-generation aircraft, pushed his concept of dive-bombing on Luftwaffe medium and heavy bombers with disastrous results. This shortcoming became apparent after 1941 with severe consequences.

Owing to the German General Staff tradition of war games and large-scale maneuvers, the ideas developed in the 1920s matured into an effective air doctrine for battlefield victory. Despite the failure to develop a naval air doctrine and the poor guidance of Hans Jeschonnek, chief of staff of the Luftwaffe, the Germans were able to gain the aerial advantage over the Allied powers in the first years of World War II, not because they had overwhelming numbers of aircraft but because their conception of a future air war and the training and equipment for such a war was far more accurate than their opponents’ airpower visions.

Flexibility of German doctrine afforded the German Luftwaffe a greater strategic impact than massive bombardment alone did, which was the strategy of other European powers. This book is outstanding because it shows how doctrine, training, and visionary thinking need to be combined and refined through war games if airpower is to succeed in any future war. As the changing world situation continues to deemphasize the classic mission of strategic bombardment, the United States Air Force must recognize, plan for, and adapt to missions such as military airlift, close air support, and precision strike. I strongly recommend this book for inclusion into the curriculums of Air Command and Staff College and the Air War College, since the text actually shows how doctrine and tactics are created to overcome military problems and situations. The Luftwaffe had the ability to adapt and ensure that its doctrine and strategy did not become stale or tied to outdated or technologically inferior concepts. This is the key lesson of this book.

Capt Gilles Van Nederveen, USAF
Melbourne, Florida

The Future of War: Power, Technology, and American World Dominance in the 21st Century by George and Meredith Friedman. Crown Publishers, Inc., 201 East 50th Street, New York 10022, 1996, 464 pages, $30.00.

Arguably the first modern airpower theorist, Giulio Douhet, argued that “research into the war of the future is not, therefore, an idle pastime. It is, rather, an ever-present practical necessity.” The quote is applicable to the Friedmans’ book The Future of War, since those in the national security field should consider reading this work a practical necessity rather than an idle pastime. The book does not present radical “2013, 2023, or pick your favorite date” scenarios articulated merely for shock value and doomsday predictions not based on any logical analysis of historical fact, as the current glut of most futurist-oriented works tend to do. Instead, the work presents a line of reasoning and argument that is thought provoking and well supported.

The authors start the work by presenting their argument along with the majority of the national security community that Desert Storm represented an epochal change in warfare. The twenty-first century is argued to be an American epoch secured through brilliant weapons just as the European epoch was secured by ballistic weapons. To support their fundamental thesis, the Friedmans present as a framework (referenced indirectly throughout the book) a list of eight points on weapons development that determine when a weapon has atrophied from being strategically significant to becoming obsolete, or “senile” as the Friedmans express it. To the Friedmans, a strategically significant weapon “is the one that brings force to bear in such a way that it decisively erodes the war-making capability of the enemy,” while a senile weapon is one in which “the primary strategic function of the weapon has been obscured by the need to construct expensive defenses against threats to the weapons platform.” Historical accounts providing examples of how past strategically significant weapons systems have become obsolete are presented throughout the work.

Despite the title, earlier chapters avoid discussion of the future of warfare and focus on other indirectly related issues. For example, chapters 2 and 3, respectively, discuss the evolution in which American scientists and civilians became military strategists and present an argument outlining the reasons for the irrelevance of nuclear weapons. As an interesting debating point, the special treatment accorded nuclear weapons in The Future of War seems to imply that the authors themselves believe that as a total system, nuclear weapons are not necessarily obsolete but rather irrelevant due to their lack of political utility through actual use. The political discussion entailed in their treatment of nuclear weapons also discounts an early statement in the work that stresses that the authors intended The Future of War to be a “book on the technology of war only.” The discussion of nuclear weapons, however, within the context of the entire book serves as an interesting digression more than an integrated portion supporting overarching themes.

The later chapters are directly linked to the Friedmans’ fundamental thesis and supporting framework. For this reason, these portions of the work are very interesting and demand attention. The Friedmans spend much time identifying current weapons systems destined for obsolescence or senility (implying that some type of technological Alzheimer’s disease exists and that the authors by dealing only with discussing the technology of war are prone to humanizing weapons systems). Weapons systems argued to be approaching senility include the tank, the aircraft carrier, and the stealthy manned aircraft. Obviously, this alone makes the book somewhat unique since it endeavors to criticize the most prized programs of each service and chooses no favorites as works in the defense policy field tend to do (intentionally and unintentionally). The book’s support for the mobile off-shore base in a final chapter may be the one exception depending on which service is the owner of such a program. What makes the final chapters exceptional of their own accord is the Friedmans’ predictions regarding future strategically significant systems.

The book articulates that increasingly more brilliant and faster weapons, coupled with the inevitable movement of warfare into the medium of space, represent the arena in which military dominance is to be established, as well as the tools with which to establish dominance, far into the future. Hypersonic cruise missiles are advocated as the quintessential weapons of the future. The discussion of hypersonic missile technology does not seem that futuristic when considered with recent informational reports such as the September/October issues of Surface Warfare and the 13 October issue of Aviation Week & Space Technology, which both possessed cover-story articles discussing plans for hypersonic weapons development. Arguing space to be the high ground of future military activity also is reasonable considering policy documents such as Global Engagement: A Vision for the 21st Century Air Force and the White House’s National Security Strategy identification of space as an area in which the United States has an overarching capability.

The book’s discussion of space warfare begins with the premise that the migration of warfare into the realm of space has a historical precedent in the migration of warfare into the realm of air, and later continues into an analysis concluding that the actual conduct of space warfare shares the most commonality with the conduct of naval warfare. The control of the seas is then revisited when the book concludes that controlling space will be a necessary step to maintain control of the seas, which is cited as the most fundamental mission for any hegemonic power to be able to complete in order to protect its interests and ensure its national security. As summarized on page 411 of The Future of War:

Whoever controls space, therefore, will control the world’s oceans. Whoever controls the oceans will control the patterns of global commerce. Whoever controls the patterns of global commerce will be the wealthiest power in the world. Whoever is the wealthiest power in the world will be able to control space.

The final chapters also include one that presents the effect of future weapons technologies on land warfare that foreshadows the “return of the poor, bloody infantry” possessing information-age weaponry and firepower, extending to it extraordinary capability in what by today’s standards seems to be in small quantity. As already alluded to, however, the primary prediction of the final chapters is that the future of American preeminence is and will be founded on its capability to expand military activity into space and to operate hypersonic, brilliant weapons. Readers of The Future of War are left to discern for themselves what will motivate this expansion, at whose hands it will take place, and whether it will be politically acceptable. This makes it a valuable, perhaps an indispensable, read for those guiding the future of American military power.

Patrick Harding
McLean, Virginia

Fateful Rendezvous: The Life of Butch O’Hare by Steve Ewing and John B. Lundstrom. Naval Institute Press, 2062 Generals Highway, Annapolis, Maryland 21402, 1997, 408 pages, $32.95.

Butch O’Hare was an American hero when America most needed heroes in the dark early days of World War II in the Pacific. Flying an F4F Wildcat off the carrier Lexington, Butch O’Hare destroyed five of nine attacking Japanese bombers, effectively breaking their attack. Winning the Medal of Honor and saving hundreds of American lives for that heroic action is only part of the Butch O’Hare story. He played a key role in developing fighter tactics and preparing naval aviators for war. Steve Ewing and John B. Lundstrom have pieced together the first biography of this naval aviation hero. The book was written with the cooperation of the O’Hare family, who provided insight and made available family papers. Research for this book included quite extensive use of recently released Japanese documents and numerous interviews with those who served with Butch.

Both authors are experienced naval historians. Mr. Ewing is the author of six additional naval books and is currently curator at the Patriots Point Naval and Maritime Museum. Mr. Lundstrom is curator of American and military history at the Milwaukee Public Museum. He has authored two other naval books and is working on a third.

As a biography, the book mostly follows a traditional chronological approach, although it digresses a little to discuss Butch’s father, E. J. O’Hare, and his role in bringing Al Capone to justice. Butch O’Hare was born in 1914 in St. Louis, Missouri. His given name was Edward O’Hare, and his nickname came some twenty years later. His early years gave no indication of the greatness he would achieve. Butch’s father was so concerned about Butch’s lack of initiative that he enrolled him in a military academy, which seemed to work wonders. In 1933 he was accepted at the US Naval Academy, graduating with the Class of 1937.

Appropriately, the majority of the book covers Butch’s wartime accomplishments. His defense of the Lexington against the Japanese bombers is covered in detail. As a result of his actions, Butch O’Hare was promoted and given command of a fighter squadron, VF-3. Due to a shortage of carriers, VF-3 became a reserve pool of pilots and aircraft for other squadrons. While this was not as exciting as combat, VF-3 made valuable contributions by preparing newly assigned pilots for the rigors of combat. Eventually Butch was reassigned to combat operations as commander of Carrier Air Group Six aboard the carrier Enterprise. He was instrumental in developing techniques for night fighter operations to protect carriers from attack. On 26 November 1943, Butch O’Hare, flying an F6F Hellcat, failed to return from an attempted intercept of an enemy night strike. For years the loss of Butch O’Hare was a mystery, as no one actually witnessed the crash of his aircraft. Some attributed his death to friendly fire. The authors went to great lengths to resolve the mystery, interviewing actual participants and analyzing both US and Japanese archives to resolve the mystery. The authors surmise that Butch O’Hare was most likely killed by a lucky shot from a Japanese bomber.

I found this book interesting and recommend it to fellow airmen. In addition to a fascinating story of courage, it provides great insight into World War II carrier operations. The book also showcases Butch’s unique leadership style, which motivated and inspired the men under his command.

Lt Col Chris Anderson
Maxwell AFB, Alabama

Fighter Pilot: World War II in the South Pacific by William M. Gaskill. Sunflower University Press, 1531 Yuma, P. O. Box 1009, Manhattan, Kansas 66502-4228, 1997, 186 pages, $22.95.

The Cold Blue Sky: A B-17 Gunner in World War Two by Jack Novey. Howell Press, 1147 River Road, Suite 2, Charlottesville, Virginia 22901, 1997, 183 pages, $24.95.

ACE! Autobiography of a Fighter Pilot in World War II by Melvyn Paisley. Branden Publishing Company, Inc., 17 Station Street, P. O. Box 843, Brookline Village, Boston, Massachusetts 02147, 1992, 316 pages, $22.95.

Begging Charles Dickens’s indulgence, these books represent the best of memoirs and the worst of memoirs. This trio depicts a wide spectrum of aerial combat in World War II. The first book, written by a P-38 fighter pilot, covers a small portion of the air war over New Guinea in late 1944 and early 1945. The second covers one man’s war as a B-17 waist gunner over occupied Europe in 1943. The final memoir, by a P-47 pilot, describes the battles in the skies over Europe in the final months of the war.

I attacked William Gaskill’s memoir first. Let’s not mince words: it is amazing that this book was ever printed. Published by Sunflower University Press, a small, mustang publishing house known for its independence and emphasis on airpower topics, I expected a degree of entertaining insight into the trials and tribulations faced by airmen in the Southwest Pacific area. I was sorely disappointed. The diary Gaskill kept while stationed in the Southwest Pacific failed to stimulate his memory enough to write a decent account of his war. Instead of expanding on his wartime experiences—something he was eminently qualified to do—the author penned chapters on the Pacific war, including a war chronology—things he was not qualified to do. The rambling and disjointed narrative is too poorly written to be of value to any but the most ardent student of the war. More than once, the author included an anecdote (or chapter) with little or no connection to the story line. For instance, he includes a chapter on Japanese aggression in the Pacific that chronicles the first months of the war but fails to describe what impact this had on him as a young aviation cadet, or the changes he perceived in society at large, or how his training was preparing him for the upcoming challenge.

This is all the more distressing since Gaskill had the foundation of a first-rate story. Of historical note: he piloted one of the lesser-known fighters of World War II, the P-39 Airacobra, one of the first fighter aircraft with a tricycle landing gear and one built around its armament—a 37 mm cannon. Armed with this weapon, Gaskill’s squadron attacked Japanese shipping and myriad installations in the Pacific. Later, his squadron transitioned to P-38 Lightnings and provided bomber escort. What Gaskill needed was a good editor to tighten the argument. Unfortunately, this is something he did not receive from his press.

Unlike Fighter Pilot, the other two memoirs are a joy to read. Jack Novey’s The Cold Blue Sky recounts the exploits of a B-17 waist gunner in the early days of the Combined Bomber Offensive. The Cold Blue Sky has two things going for it that Fighter Pilot lacks. First, aside from a great title, Novey created a highly entertaining and engaging account of his war. Although he gives credit to his editor for markedly improving his manuscript, the author’s talent is immediately obvious. He spins an entertaining tale that engages the reader. Second, Novey focuses on his point and sticks to it. Only rarely, and then towards the end of the book when he discusses his postwar experiences, does the narrator wander onto unstable ground.

But to the heart of the tale: Novey and his crew flew during the most dangerous time of the Combined Bomber Offensive, receiving fighter escort only rarely. Novey is a rarity in that he managed to complete a full tour of 25 missions—including both the August and October 1943 Regensburg-Schweinfurt missions. Few of his friends were so fortunate. Given the appalling attrition rates (on the first Regensburg–Schweinfurt mission, the Eighth Air Force had an attrition rate of 40 percent), it is all the more amazing that Novey’s plane, the Blackhawk, survived as well.

From page one, the reader realizes he has a fast-paced narrative in his hands. Novey begins his memoir recounting a typical mission and his impressions of 3:00 A.M. reveille, disagreeable chow, mission briefing, followed by the interminable wait beside his aircraft in anticipation of the go signal. Then, the invasive cold and boredom, broken by periods of intense action. Novey’s writing is gritty but entertaining and laced with much humor. He discusses how he enlisted in the Army, first wanting to join the cavalry but choosing the Army Air Forces (AAF) because of the free beer at the recruiting meeting and because as a gunner he would be a sergeant and exempt from “fatigue” duty. Once the author set his mind to something, however, he was determined to succeed. Plagued with chronic airsickness during his training, Novey devised ingenious ways to stay on flying status. Sometimes he would tell the pilot that his retching was the first time, “honest, Sir!” Other times he would successfully hide his used breakfast. Ultimately, he was found out and grounded. Novey saw his classmates depart for their crews and Europe. Brokenhearted but not dissuaded, Novey devised a unique way to work his way back. He checked into the hospital complaining of some fictitious ailment. When the doctors could find nothing wrong with him, they would declare him fully fit for combat duty and, alas, he was back at square one for training as a gunner. He never did fully lose his penchant for airsickness—he just had to be creatively resourceful in disposing of the evidence.

The combat narrative, which consumes the final two-thirds of the book is truly exceptional because so few men actually survived this period in the air war—and fewer still have put their experiences into words. In the author’s vivid tapestry of his war life, the reader can see in his mind’s eye the sullen expressions on the faces of the “old salts” when the “wet-behind-the-ears” Novey drops his bag at his bunk. The reader feels the apprehension during his first few missions as he becomes, not comfortable with the stress of combat, but resigned to it. Later, the reader understands why the author gives replacements that same sullen look he received when he arrived. He couldn’t afford to become emotionally attached to anyone. Novey had seen too many of his buddies literally tumble from the sky. Novey often noted that it was only luck that saved a man, as when a friend had the sad duty of escorting a body to the American Cemetery in London, when, on that particular day, the man’s entire crew was lost over Germany. In another example, Novey watched as Luftwaffe fighters, in one pass, shot down every plane in his group except his. Finally, the author communicates vividly the anxiety he felt as he prepared for his 25th and final mission. The author sugarcoats nothing. Besides his airsickness, he freely discusses his girlfriends, liaisons, and drinking in graphic detail.

It is interesting to note that the author describes the atmosphere on board his plane as relaxed. He called the pilot, a lieutenant, “sir” more because he was several years older rather than due to his rank. Yet, he appreciated the stern discipline and leadership from the group commander, Col Archie Old Jr. The author credits Old’s insistence on practice missions and formation discipline with saving many lives during combat. The Cold Blue Sky is perhaps the finest example of what life was like for the enlisted crew members and would make a fine companion volume to A Wing and a Prayer by Harry Crosby.

Like The Cold Blue Sky, Melvyn Paisley’s ACE! is one of the best combat narratives to come out in years. Whereas Novey describes his part of the strategic air war, Paisley provides a glimpse of what a fighter-bomber pilot’s life was like. Of course, the author was not just any run-of-the-mill fighter pilot. Paisley was one of the few with the eyesight, skill, and just plain dumb luck to become an ace. More than just a war memoir, however, ACE! covers Paisley’s early years growing up in Portland, Oregon, and his readjustment to civilian life after the war. These bookends make this work unique from the other two.

The author devotes approximately half of the more than three hundred pages to a history of his private life. A child in the depression, Paisley had a life that was anything but easy. Yet being a child, he didn’t realize the hardships his parents endured. He filled his days with marbles, milk bottle caps, and rummaging through the dump looking for treasures. Later, he graduated to jalopies, drag racing, and girls. Although this was not directly related to his wartime experiences, his narrative is engaging nonetheless and well worth the read.

This fascinating view into depression life makes it clear why men like Novey and Paisley were so determined to succeed, whether it be in gunnery school for Novey or flight training for Paisley. Failure was not part of the equation. In fact, Paisley feared washing out of pilot training so much that he refused to visit the local women of the evening, fearing a case of venereal disease would force his dismissal.

Paisley, like Novey, provides a valuable description of training. In fact, taken together both memoirs are valuable if only for the insight into the AAF school system. In particular, one is struck by the “industrialization” of the process and the bewildering maze of courses the students struggled through. Whether basic training, aerial gunnery, or primary flight instruction, the impression left in these memoirs is that the students were mere cogs in a machine. Perhaps lambs to the slaughter is a more apt analogy. The students went where they were told, did what they were told, and either graduated and moved on to the next school or washed out and went to the infantry.

Like The Cold Blue Sky, Paisley’s narrative is lively and fast-paced. Enlisting in 1942, Lieutenant Paisley didn’t arrive at his squadron until October 1944. Between then and V-E Day, he racked up nine victories, including a V-1 and an Me-262. Several of these victories were due to luck, being in the right place at the right time. For instance, it was pure luck that Paisley’s squadron was just slightly further away from the German border on New Year’s Day 1945 when the Luftwaffe launched Operation Bodenplatte—an all-out, last-ditch attempt to catch the Allied tactical air forces on the ground. Paisley and his squadron had just sortied when he spied swarms of German planes attacking nearby Royal Air Force bases and swarms more headed for his aerodrome. The British were caught on the ground, as were many US aircraft. Paisley accounted for five kills that day.

After the war, the author recounts his attempts to reenter the civilian world. Unfortunately for Paisley, this proved far more difficult than he had imagined. He had wanted to return to Portland and to the days of fast cars and faster women. However, he was now in his twenties and was expected to earn a living. Paisley unabashedly describes his immaturity, ending his story when he took a job with Boeing in Seattle.

The Cold Blue Sky and ACE! are two of the best World War II memoirs to appear in the last several years. Both works compare with the very best of the firsthand-account literature on the air war, providing the reader with riveting and touching accounts of the horrors, tragedies, and triumphs of the US air campaigns. Both do a wonderful job of seizing the drama of the air war and placing the reader in the middle of the action. A general audience might be slightly disappointed by the abundance of “civilian” stories in Paisley’s account. Nevertheless, for readers interested in strategic bombing, tactical support to the ground troops, or the training of the AAF, Novey’s and Paisley’s accounts will provide informative and worthwhile reading.

Capt Jim Gates
Washington, D.C.

A Certain Brotherhood by Col Jimmie H. Butler, USAF, Retired. Cricket Press, Colorado Springs, Colorado, 1996, 346 pages.

This softcover entry into the Vietnam “forward air controller memoir” genre belongs on the shelf alongside Danang Diary, Lonely Kind of War, and Vietnam above the Treetops. It complements that set of history, adding the mission of interdicting the Ho Chi Minh Trail in 1967. Colonel Butler brings the trail to vivid life, complete with secondary explosions, airbursts, and the frequent terror of operating there in an 80-knot Cessna. His descriptions of flying are worth the price of the book. He takes you there.

The main character is Lt Mitch McCall, who brings baggage to his Nail forward air controller (FAC) assignment at Nakhon Phanom, Thailand. A close call in pilot training shakes his confidence, and now he must deal with hundreds of angry antiaircraft guns along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. His worries mount as friends pay the full price over interdiction points like Mu Gia Pass where even high-low tactics do not allow the O-1 Birddog aircraft to survive. Whenever a comrade falls, that certain brotherhood pulls together the forces for daring rescue attempts. Lieutenant McCall’s reticence seems accentuated alongside more daring pilots in his unit, but he performs his share of heroic deeds.

Mitch develops a rapport with the hear-all, see-all North Vietnamese ground commander for the trail in Laos, and their collision at once seems inevitable. Mitch comes away from the encounter with quite a survival tale to tell. In fact, his heroics on the ground do not fit the character who began the story, unless we believe in some kind of catharsis brought by being drawn into the brotherhood.

This book should be of interest to aviation buffs and Vietnam history professionals, as it illuminates the strategic importance of the North Vietnamese logistics tail through Laos and the difficult Air Force mission of cutting it. Colonel Butler has produced an accurate picture, and an engrossing account.

Col James E. Roper, USAF, Retired
Montgomery, Alabama

Rape Warfare: The Hidden Genocide in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia by Beverly Allen. University of Minnesota Press, 111 Third Avenue South, Suite 209, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55401-2520, 1996, 180 pages, $20.00.

Rape Warfare is a compelling book and a necessary read for all military officers who will serve or are serving abroad and for planners responsible for implementing Joint Publication 3-07.6, Joint Tactics, Techniques, and Procedures for Foreign Humanitarian Assistance Operations, and Joint Publication 3-08, Interagency Coordination during Joint Operations. All forms of genocidal rape constitute the crime of genocide as described in Article 2, United Nations (UN) Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (1948). Allen’s book is a testimony and an analysis of the horrifying phenomenon of “a military policy of rape for the purpose of genocide.” Although the United States military would never engage in such a policy, unfortunately it has become or will become involved with nations that do. The incident in Okinawa, for example, in which three members of the armed forces of the United States raped a 12-year-old Japanese girl embroiled our government in a foreign legal system, closed bases, destroyed decades of goodwill and credibility, and gravely offended one of our important Asian allies. Allen takes the United States to task over its inadequate understanding of rape and lambastes Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia over their use of rape to further military policy.

As defined by Allen, rape warfare is “a military policy for the purpose of genocide currently practiced in Bosnia-Herzegovina (B-H) and Croatia by members of the Yugoslav Army, the Bosnian Serb forces, Serb militias in Croatia and B-H, the irregular Serb forces known as Chetniks, and Serb civilians.” Allen identifies three main forms of this “genocidal rape.” First, Chetniks or other Serb forces enter a Bosnian-Herzegovinian or Croatian village, take several women of varying ages from their homes, rape them in public view, and depart. The news of this atrocious event spreads rapidly throughout the village. Several days later, regular Bosnian Serb soldiers or Serb soldiers from the Yugoslav army arrive and offer the now-terrified residents safe passage away from the village on the condition they never return. Most accept, leaving the village abandoned to the Serbs and thus furthering the genocidal plan of “ethnic cleansing.”

Second, Bosnian-Herzegovinian and Croatian women being held in Serb concentration camps are chosen at random to be raped, often as part of torture preceding death. Third, Serb, Bosnian Serb, and Croatian Serb soldiers; Bosnian Serb militias; and Chetniks arrest Bosnian-Herzegovinian and Croatian women, imprison them in a rape/death camp, and rape them systematically for extended periods of time. Such rapes are either part of torture preceding death or part of torture leading to forced pregnancy. Pregnant victims are raped consistently until their pregnancies have progressed beyond the possibility of a safe abortion and are then released. In the first case, the death of the victim contributes to the genocidal goal; in the second, the birth of a child has the same effect because the perpetrator or the policy according to which he is acting considers the child a Serb, having none of the mother’s identity.

Allen does not offer political-military remedies to the horror of genocidal rape. She feels that the arms embargo should be lifted so that the army of Bosnia-Herzegovina can defend itself and fight to regain territory conquered by the criminal Serb aggression. No political remedies exist since they would depend on negotiations with the architects and executors of the policy of rape. But she does offer some very sound and workable humanitarian and legal remedies. Some of the most effective remedial work in caring for victims has been done by nongovernment organizations and private individuals offering aid and refuge. Her analysis, however, found that “humanitarian” aid from outside governments entailed practically no effort to intervene in any way to stop such atrocities.

Legal remedies suggested by Allen include the dropping of the British (and American) tradition of common law for the juridical system derived from Roman Law and the Napoleonic Code. Addressing genocidal rape under these codes would allow authorities to bring to trial (even in absentia) Radovan Karadzic and the Serb army officers (Gen Blagoje Adizic and Gen Milan Guero) who authored the Ram and Brana plans (which promulgated the military policy of ethnic cleansing). Allen also strongly advocates the establishment of a permanent tribunal for adjudication of genocidal rape in particular and genocide in general, as well as other war crimes, on an ongoing basis.

Just as the reader is taking all of this in, Allen concludes that genocidal rape is a type of biological warfare. Citing the definition of biological warfare as “a voluntary use of living organisms or their toxic products with the aim of killing or harming persons, useful animals, or plants,” she demonstrates that as a systemic policy, rape is willfully destructive and aimed at harming. Second, it is used to attack a highly susceptible sector of a population—women and children—who are under the threat of death, whether imprisoned or not. Third, sperm, as used in genocidal rape for enforced pregnancy, attacks a specific biological system in its victims: the reproductive system of women capable of gestating. Fourth, genocidal rape has both immediate and long-term effects. Immediately, it produces atrocious physical pain, mental suffering, and often death. Long-term, it produces social ostracism; psychological trauma; and possible death by abortion, childbirth, or suicide. Therefore, according to Allen, genocidal rape qualifies as biological warfare—a crime and a UN treaty violation.

Allen has taken a giant step in justifying the American/UN/NATO presence in the Balkans and its continuing presence. These organizations are as opposed to the use of biological warfare as they are adamantly opposed to the use of chemical and nuclear weapons. Such opposition justifies intervention in the Balkans and other regions as well.

This book’s detailed descriptions make the reader extremely uncomfortable as well as more knowledgeable about rape warfare. One must read it at least two or three times to understand the dimensions of what Dr. Allen has seen, researched, and synthesized. Rape Warfare calls for actions that will aid survivors, judge the perpetrators, and do what is required to guard against the atrocity of genocidal rape in the future. Otherwise, as Dr. Allen writes, we will never move towards any new formulations of justice and peace in our disordered world.

D. G. Bradford
Orlando, Florida

Disclaimer

The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.

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