For the first time ever, I am finding it difficult to read fiction. But never before in my lifetime has there been such peril in the world.
I was drawn to Max Hastings’ account of the relief of Malta in 1942 because my father was on battleship HMS Queen Elizabeth, which followed the same route in Operation Tiger the previous year, although his convoy bypassed Malta to deliver vital armaments to Montgomery at Alexandria. My dad made light of it, but reading Hastings’ account brought home to me just how dangerous it was. Ships came under attack from Junkers bombers, Stuka dive bombers, submarines, torpedo motorboats and E-boats. But if Operation Pedestal makes for hard reading —and it does— it’s because it is so pedestrian. Stuffed with lists, the chronicle is no doubt accurate, but this is no rousing narrative. Hastings simply doesn’t write with the depth and scope of prose of WWII historians such as Taylor, Bullock, Shirer, Arnold-Foster or Beevor. I think I could stomach the harrowing stories of the sinkings of merchant and Royal Navy ships and the loss of life, but the style is too dry and factual, with only a smattering of human interest and anecdotes and no cheering triumph, even if the crippled tanker Ohio made it to port and Malta was enabled to survive. I didn’t get much greater insight into the events than I could have picked up by researching official reports and reading Wikipedia. Comments are closed.
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