Monday, Feb. 04, 1957

World War II Trio

These three books about World War II were written in bitterness. Two deal with ill-fated ventures on the Allied side, the third with Japan's defeat in the air. Each of them underlines a tragic fact that has again been proved in Hungary: in a time of total war and totalitarian regimes, heroism is not enough.

AT WHATEVER COST, by R. W. Thompson (215 pp.; Coward-McCann; $3.50), tells the story of the famed 1942 raid against the German-held port of Dieppe, in which 6,100 officers and men (mostly Canadians) started out and less than a third returned. For months, reconnaissance aircraft had surveyed German defense, but when the raid started, German artillery slid out of hideaways in the cliffs, poured shells point-blank into men and landing craft. The "average life" of the invaders on the beach was "measured in a handful of seconds." Author Thompson, a British war correspondent, ably describes "the shuddering chaos of ships and men," the massacres in the beam of a German searchlight, the tragic survivors, a few of whom were found wander ing days later in England, not knowing "who they were or where they were."

What was the point of "Operation Jubilee"? Was the Italian radio correct in saying that the "British High Command did not even know what it hoped to achieve"? The British claimed that the assault "provided vital information" for the Normandy invasion, but the principal discoveries seem to have been merely 1) that the Germans built excellent fortifications, 2) that Intelligence must show a lot more intelligence, 3) that infantry attacking heavily fortified positions needs heavy covering fire.

FIGHTING WARSAW, by Stefan Korbonski (495 pp., Macmillan; $6.75), presents the memoirs of the last leader of the Polish underground, and for the first time fully tells the story of the thousands who died in a futile effort to free Poland. At first, the politically ill-assorted, mutually suspicious underground leaders fell easy prey to the Germans. The flamboyance of the rank and file who took to wearing "uniforms" of top boots and padded jackets also led to wholesale arrests. Yet out of blundering and indecision, the stubborn Poles whipped together perhaps the most potent underground fighting force in Europe. Author Korbonski, a lawyer, had charge of communications, and tells in compelling detail how within four months he established radio contact with London and built up a succession of hideouts for his transmitters. The underground had its own court, newspapers and parliament; illegal printing presses poured out forged ration cards and even German military passes.

When the Jews of Warsaw made their despairing 1943 insurrection against the Germans, the underground felt unable to offer armed help. Korbonski's radio team flashed the news to London as they watched smoke and fire rising from the ghetto (said Korbonski's wife: "It will be easier for them to die with the knowledge that the world hears how they are dying"). A year later, the underground rose in its turn against the Nazis in an effort to seize Warsaw before the onrushing Soviet troops crossed the Vistula. For 63 days the Poles fought desperately, while the Russians stood idly by as German artillery and bombers crushed the uprising. Author Korbonski, who left his country two years after the Russians finally moved in, now wonders whether "it was worthwhile to shed so much blood for such meager results" but believes that at the time it was the only thing to do and recalls nostalgically that the years in the underground blended "with the memories of our best years."

SAMURAI!, by Saburo Sakai, with Martin Caidin and Fred Saito (382 pp.; Dutton; $4.95), sweeps through the South Pacific with all guns firing as Pilot Sakai and his squadron of Zeros effortlessly shoot U.S. planes out of the sky. In five seconds over Port Moresby, four Airacobras are sent spinning into the sea. Another time the Japs down six of seven null without the loss of a Zero.

Incredible? Author Sakai, who is billed as "Japan's greatest living fighter pilot," claims a total of 64 "confirmed" kills of U.S. aircraft. His close friend, the late Hiroyoshi Nishizawa, is credited by the Japanese with over 100. Nothing to prove it, of course.* Figures aside, Pilot Sakai was quite a flyer. During the Guadalcanal campaign he was put out of action when he jumped four Avenger torpedo planes, barely made it back to Rabaul. He lost an eye in the battle, and his description of how he was operated on without anesthesia is bloodcurdling. Sakai fought again, but soon learned that a half-blind fighter pilot in an outdated Zero was no match for the new planes and pilots pouring from the U.S.

Much of the book reads like the memoirs of any other fighter pilots of World War II--German, British and American. But there are startling differences, as when Sakai carefully explains the Japanese reluctance to wear parachutes: "It was out of the question to bail out over enemy-held territory . . . No fighter pilot of any courage would ever permit himself to be captured by the enemy."

*Top U.S. aces in the Pacific were Richard L. Bong, with 40 kills, Thomas B. McGuire, with 38.

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