In this unique history of the “Lost Battalion” of World War I, Alan D. Gaff tells for the first time the story of the 77th Division from the perspective of the soldiers in the ranks. On October 2, 1918, Maj. Charles W. Whittlesey led the 77th Division in a successful attack on German defenses in the Argonne Forest of northeastern France. His unit, comprised of men of a wide mix of ethnic backgrounds from New York City and the western states, was not a battalion nor was it ever “lost,” but once a newspaper editor applied the term “lost battalion” to the episode, it stuck. Gaff draws from new, unimpeachable sources—such as sworn testimony by soldiers who survived the ordeal—to correct the myths and legends and to reveal what really happened in the Argonne Forest during early October 1918.

A dedicated career soldier and excellent division and corps commander, Dominique Vandamme was a thorn in the side of practically every officer he served. Outspoken to a fault, he even criticized Napoleon, whom he never forgave for not appointing him marshal. His military prowess so impressed the emperor, however, that he returned Vandamme to command time and again. In this first book-length study of Vandamme in English, John G. Gallaher traces the career of one of Napoleon’s most successful midrank officers. He describes Vandamme’s rise from a provincial youth with neither fortune nor influence to an officer of the highest rank in the French army. Gallaher thus offers a rare look at a Napoleonic general who served for twenty-five years during the wars of the French Revolution and Napoleonic Empire. This was a time when a general could lose his head if he lost a battle. Despite Vandamme’s contentious nature, Gallaher shows, Napoleon needed his skills as a commander, and Vandamme needed Napoleon to further his career. Gallaher draws on a wealth of archival sources in France—notably the Vandamme Papers in Lille—to draw a full portrait of the general. He also reveals new information on such military events as the Silesian campaign of 1807 and the disaster at Kulm in 1813. Gallaher presents Vandamme in the context of the Napoleonic command system, revealing how he related to both subordinates and superiors. Napoleon’s Enfant Terrible depicts an officer who was his own worst enemy but who was instrumental in winning an empire.

In the center of Mantua, in northern Italy, a covered bridge stretches over the narrow Rio where vendors sell fish from pushcarts just as locals did more than two hundred years ago when Napoleon Bonaparte laid siege to the city. Four cannon balls protruding out of an adjacent wall offer a tacit monument to the sufferings of townspeople during the 1796–1797 siege, when the city, held by Austrian troops, finally fell under French control. Two years later, Mantua was again barraged, this time by a combined Austrian and Russian army, which took it back after four months. In Napoleon in Italy, Phillip R. Cuccia brings to light two understudied aspects of these trying periods in Mantua’s history: siege warfare and the conditions it created inside the city. Drawing on underutilized military records in Austrian, French, and Italian archives, Cuccia delves into these important conflicts to integrate political and social issues with a campaign study. Unlike other military histories of the era, Napoleon in Italy brings to light the words of soldiers, leaders, and citizens who experienced the sieges firsthand. Cuccia also shows how the sieges had consequences long after they were over. The surrender and proposed court-martial of François-Philippe de Foissac-Latour, the French general in charge of Mantua in 1799, sheds new light on Napoleon’s disdain for defeat. Foissac-Latour faced Napoleon’s ire, expulsion from the army, and harsh public criticism. Napoleon in Italy is not only the story of Mantua’s strategic importance. Mantua also symbolized Napoleon’s voracious determination to win and Austria’s desperation to retain its possessions. By placing the sieges of Mantua in an eighteenth-century international context, Cuccia introduces readers to a broader understanding of siege warfare and of how the global impacts the local.

Upon France’s defeat of the vaunted Prussian army at the Battle of Valmy in 1792, German author Johann Wolfgang von Goethe remarked, “From this place and from this day forth commences a new era in the world’s history.” The pronouncement proved prescient, for this first major victory emboldened France’s revolutionary government to end the monarchy and establish the first French Republic—with dramatic consequences for the wars that soon roiled the continent. In nine essays by leading scholars, European Armies of the French Revolution, 1789–1802 provides an authoritative, continent-wide analysis of the organization and constitution of these armies, the challenges they faced, and the impact they had on the French Revolutionary Wars and on European military practices. The volume opens with editor Frederick C. Schneid’s substantial introduction, which reviews the strategies and policies of each participating state throughout the wars, establishing a clear context for the essays that follow. Drawing on the latest research and thought, each contributor focuses on the army of a particular power: France, Prussia, Austria, Russia, Britain, Spain, the German principalities, the Italian states, and the Ottoman Empire. Their essays examine the system, tactics, operations, and strategies that each army adopted and developed in the Revolutionary Wars. The authors explore the conflicts’ wider influence on these policies and practices, along with significant battles and actions. Unique in its approach and reach, this volume offers a thorough and closely observed view of the composition, scope, and purpose of the European armies at the turn of the nineteenth century. It enhances and extends our insights into how the military powers of the post–French Revolutionary era—and thus, the era itself—took shape.

An Irish officer in the British Army, Major General Robert Ross (1766–1814) was a charismatic leader widely admired for his bravery in battle. Despite a military career that included distinguished service in Europe and North Africa, Ross is better known for his actions than his name: his 1814 campaign in the Chesapeake Bay resulted in the burning of the White House and Capitol and the unsuccessful assault on Baltimore, immortalized in “The Star Spangled Banner.” The Man Who Captured Washington is the first in-depth biography of this important but largely forgotten historical figure. Drawing from a broad range of sources, both British and American, military historians John McCavitt and Christopher T. George provide new insight into Ross’s career prior to his famous exploits at Washington, D.C. Educated in Dublin, Ross joined the British Army in 1789, earning steady promotion as he gained combat experience. The authors portray him as an ambitious but humane commanding officer who fought bravely against Napoleon’s forces on battlefields in Holland, southern Italy, Egypt, and the Iberian Peninsula. Following the end of the war in Europe, while still recovering from a near-fatal wound, Ross was designated to lead an “enterprise” to America, and in August 1814 he led a small army to victory in the Battle of Bladensburg. From there his forces moved to the city of Washington, where they burned public buildings. In detailing this campaign, McCavitt and George clear up a number of misconceptions, including the claim that the British burned the entire city of Washington. Finally, the authors shed new light on the long-debated circumstances surrounding Ross’s death on the eve of the Battle of North Point at Baltimore. Ross’s campaign on the shores of the Chesapeake lasted less than a month, but its military and political impact was enormous. Considered an officer and a gentleman by many on both sides of the Atlantic, the general who captured Washington would in time fade in public memory. Yet, as McCavitt and George show, Ross’s strategies and achievements during the final days of his career would shape American defense policy for decades to come.

Canadian-born flying ace Raymond Collishaw (18931976) served in Britains air forces for twenty-eight years. As a pilot in World War I he was credited with sixty-one confirmed kills on the Western Front. When World War II began in 1939, Air Commodore Collishaw commanded a Royal Air Force group in Egypt. It was in Egypt and Lybia in 194041, during the Britains Western Desert campaign, that he demonstrated the tenets of an effective air-ground cooperation system. Flying to Victory examines Raymond Collishaws contribution to the British system of tactical air supporta pattern of operations that eventually became standard in the Allied air forces and proved to be a key factor in the Allied victory. The British Army and Royal Air Force entered the war with conflicting views on the issue of air support that hindered the success of early operations. It was only after the chastening failure of Operation Battleaxe in June 1941, fought according to army doctrine, that Winston Churchill shifted strategy on the direction of future air campaignsultimately endorsing the RAF view of mission and target selection. This view adopted principles of air-ground cooperation that Collishaw had demonstrated in combat. Author Mike Bechthold traces the emergence of this strategy in the RAF air campaign in Operation Compass, the first British offensive in the Western Desert, in which Air Commodore Collishaws small force overwhelmed its Italian counterpart and disrupted enemy logistics.Flying to Victory details the experiences that prepared Collishaw so well for this campaign and that taught him much about the application of air power, especially how to work effectively with the army and Royal Navy. As Bechthold shows, these lessons lea

Vicente Podico Lim (1888–1944) was once his country’s best-known soldier. The first Filipino to graduate from West Point and a graduate of the U.S. Army War College, Lim figured in every significant military development in the Philippines during his thirty years in uniform. Frustrated Ambition is the first in-depth biography of this forgotten figure, whose career paralleled the early-twentieth-century history of the Philippine military. As independence seemed increasingly likely for the Philippines in the 1930s, Lim positioned himself to take a leading role in developing armed forces for a sovereign nation. But as Lim maneuvered behind the scenes, Manuel L. Quezon, soon to be the commonwealth president, revealed that he had invited General Douglas MacArthur to serve as military adviser to the Philippines. Frustrated Ambition corrects the conventional historical narrative of events thereafter—one that emphasizes the failure of the nascent Philippine military under MacArthur and inflates the general’s heroic role in the defense of Bataan and Corregidor. Richard Bruce Meixsel restores Lim as the then-recognized leader of the opposition to MacArthur’s mission, and shows how Lim took the Philippine Army in a more tenable direction as MacArthur’s military system foundered. World War II brought Lim to the fore. While MacArthur directed his troops from Corregidor, Lim commanded a division on Bataan that may have suffered more combat losses at the battle of Abucay than did all American units on Bataan during the entire campaign. When the U.S. high command turned its efforts to evacuating the Philippine Islands, Lim began to prepare for the ensuing underground struggle against the Japanese—a fight that cost him his life. By recounting Vicente Lim’s career, Frustrated Ambition illuminates forgotten episodes in Philippine history, offers new perspectives on military affairs during the American occupation, and recovers the story of Filipino soldiers whose service changed the course of their country’s military history.

“You offer yourself to be slain,” General Sir John Hackett once observed, remarking on the military profession. “This is the essence of being a soldier.” For this reason as much as any other, the British army has invariably been seen as standing apart from other professions—and sometimes from society as a whole. A British Profession of Arms effectively counters this view. In this definitive study of the late Victorian army, distinguished scholar Ian F. W. Beckett finds that the British soldier, like any other professional, was motivated by considerations of material reward and career advancement. Within the context of debates about both the evolution of Victorian professions and the nature of military professionalism, Beckett considers the late Victorian officer corps as a case study for weighing distinctions between the British soldier and his civilian counterparts. Beckett examines the role of personality, politics, and patronage in the selection and promotion of officers. He looks, too, at the internal and external influences that extended from the press and public opinion to the rivalry of the so-called rings of adherents of major figures such as Garnet Wolseley and Frederick Roberts. In particular, he considers these processes at play in high command in the Second Afghan War (1878–81), the Anglo-Zulu War (1879), and the South African War (1899–1902). Based on more than thirty years of research into surviving official, semiofficial, and private correspondence, Beckett’s work offers an intimate and occasionally amusing picture of what might affect an officer’s career: wealth, wives, and family status; promotion boards and strategic preferences; performance in the field and diplomatic outcomes. It is a remarkable depiction of the British profession of arms, unparalleled in breadth, depth, and detail.

During the Civil War, the Second Colorado Volunteer Regiment played a vital and often decisive role in the fight for the Union on the Great Plains—and in the westward expansion of the American empire. Christopher M. Rein’s The Second Colorado Cavalry is the first in-depth history of this regiment operating at the nexus of the Civil War and the settlement of the American West. Composed largely of footloose ’59ers who raced west to participate in the gold rush in Colorado, the troopers of the Second Colorado repelled Confederate invasions in New Mexico and Indian Territory before wading into the Burned District along the Kansas border, the bloodiest region of the guerilla war in Missouri. In 1865, the regiment moved back out onto the plains, applying what it had learned to peacekeeping operations along the Santa Fe Trail, thus definitively linking the Civil War and the military conquest of the American West in a single act of continental expansion. Emphasizing the cavalry units, whose mobility proved critical in suppressing both Confederate bushwhackers and Indian raiders, Rein tells the neglected tale of the “fire brigade” of the Trans-Mississippi Theater—a group of men, and a few women, who enabled the most significant environmental shift in the Great Plains’ history: the displacement of Native Americans by Euro-American settlers, the swapping of bison herds for fenced cattle ranges, and the substitution of iron horses for those of flesh and bone. The Second Colorado Cavalry offers us a much-needed history of the “guerilla hunters” who helped suppress violence and keep the peace in contested border regions; it adds nuance and complexity to our understanding of the unlikely “agents of empire” who successfully transformed the Central Plains.

Study of the Cold War all too often shows us the war that wasn’t fought. The reality, of course, is that many “hot” conflicts did occur, some with the great powers' weapons and approval, others without. It is this reality, and this period of quasi-war and semiconflict, that Jonathan M. House plumbs in A Military History of the Cold War, 1962–1991, a complex case study in the Clausewitzian relationship of policy and military force during a time of global upheaval and political realignment. This volume opens a new perspective on three fraught decades of Cold War history, revealing how the realities of time, distance, resources, and military culture often constrained and diverted the inclinations or policies of world leaders. In addition to the Vietnam War and nuclear confrontations between the USSR and the United States, this period saw dozens of regional wars and insurgencies fought throughout Asia, Africa, and Latin America. Cuba, Pakistan, Indonesia, Israel, Egypt, and South Africa pursued their own independent goals in ways that drew the superpowers into regional disputes. Even clashes ostensibly unrelated to the politics of East-West confrontation, such as the Nigerian-Biafran conflict, the Falklands/Malvinas War, and the Indonesian occupation of East Timor, involved armed forces, weapons, and tactics developed for the larger conflict, and thus come under House’s scrutiny. His study also takes up nontraditional or specialized aspects of the period, including weapons of mass destruction, civil-military relations, civil defense, and control of domestic disorders. The result is a single, integrated survey and analysis of a complex period of semi- and wholesale warfare, which fills a significant gap in our knowledge of the organization, logistics, operations, and tactics involved in conflict throughout the Cold War.

With the invasion of Ukraine, Vladimir Putin’s Russia seems to have stepped out of time, reverting to an imperial era of conquest and expansion. But as Roger Reese points out in this comprehensive new history, Russia’s way of war has changed little from one century to the next, one regime to another, from the army of the tsar to the army of today. Russia’s Army reveals how the Imperial Russian Army and its successors, the Soviet Army and the army of the Russian Federation, confronted the state’s foreign policy challenges—projecting power and defending the empire—and the domestic challenge of containing internal unrest generated by nationalism, competing ethnic and religious identities, and political discontent. These twin challenges, in turn, drove defense policy and the planning and conduct of war. From the beginning of the nineteenth century, the development of the army was driven by shifts in the European balance of power and changes in global diplomacy, politics, economics, and society. Reese identifies themes that weave their way through this military the adoption of a strategy to maintain a defensive posture in the West, an offensive strategy in the Balkans, and an expansionist policy in the East; maintenance of a large standing army; and a consistent unease about the army’s and non-Russian minorities’ loyalty to the state. These themes, he shows, have emerged in times of peace and war, as heads of state have made operational and strategic military decisions while managing civil-military relations—from the times of tsarist Russia through the collapse of the Soviet empire, when Putin sought to restore authoritarian rule and hegemony over the former Soviet states of the USSR. A comprehensive account of the history of the Russian army from 1801 to 2022, Reese’s is the first book to link Russian military history across three distinct eras and to situate this history within the context of military strategy and doctrine, as reflected in specific campaigns, issues of manning and maintaining an army, and relations between army and society, at home and in the “near abroad.”

As the commander of the U.S. garrison at Fort Sumter in the fateful early hours of April 12, 1861, Robert Anderson (1805-71) played a critical role in the unfolding of the Civil War. Although his leadership and his courage under fire catapulted him into national recognition, the attack on Fort Sumter was just one chapter in Anderson's story. That story, told here in full for the first time, offers a unique lens on the development of the US military and the country itself before and during the Civil War. Anderson's family, harking back to the nation's founding, included William Clark (of Lewis and Clark fame) and Chief Justice John Marshal. His father crossed the Delaware with George Washington. And among his acquaintances were presidents ranging from the aged John Adams to seven-year-old Theodore Roosevelt. Historian Wesley Moody charts Robert Anderson's path from an upbringing on the Kentucky frontier to a West Point education and a military career that saw him fighting in nearly every American conflict from the Black Hawk War to the Civil War—catching malaria fighting the Seminoles, taking several bullets while serving in Mexico, writing the textbook for field artillery used by both Union and Confederate forces, mentoring William Tecumseh Sherman. Central to Anderson's story was his deft and decisive handling of the Fort Sumter crisis. Had Major Anderson been the aggressor, as many of his command urged, President Abraham Lincoln would have been unable to rally the Northern states to war. Had Anderson handed his command over to the Confederate troops, a demoralized North would have offered little resistance to secession. To understand this pivotal moment in U.S. history, one has to understand the man at its center; and to understand that man and his masterful performance under extraordinary pressure, one can do no better than to read Moody's thoroughly absorbing, richly detailed biography.