05 September 2011

World War II Stories in Print, on Film and as Oral History

In the past few years there has been a surge of new and interesting books and movies on the Second World War. I guess this should really be expected as so many of the "Greatest Generation" are leaving this World. Productions such as "Band of Brothers," "Saving Private Ryan," "Defiance" and the highly fictional "Inglorious Basterds" have helped to bring the greatest military cataclysm in history to a new generation. Additionally, I have encountered some amazing books recently such as "The Mascot," an incredible true story about a young Russian-Jewish boy who became the beloved mascot of a Latvian SS unit in World War II. Additionally, I have encountered some living personal histories here in Germany that are fascinating.

Just yesterday, I spoke with a Briton who spoke of his father, a Pole who fought at Arnhem in the 1st (Polish) Independent Parachute Brigade fighting with the Brirish Army. The Poles were nearly destroyed by the defending Nazi SS troops (this action was dynamically portrayed in the classic "A Bridge To Far") when they made their much delayed jump into the Netherlands. This man fought in France at the beginning (he was there working in his father's business), was captured and sent to a concentration camp and escaped during a British air raid. He then found his way back to France and then to England where he was able to join the Polish Army in exile. This man's son, the man I met, became a British Para (as the British refer to their airborne troops), and is now retired and working as a contractor in the IT field here in Germany.

Then there is the landlord of one of my colleagues, who was eight when the "Amerikaner Panzers" (tanks) arrived in Sandhofen, less than ten miles from here. His mother warned him to "stay away from the Americans! They're here to kill Germans!" When he and his mother went to bed that night the American tanks were 100 yards down the road. When he awoke in the morning (before his mother awoke), an American tank was in their front yard. He quickly dressed and as most any eight-year-old boy would do, ran out to see the tank. "The soldiers gave me food and chocolate," he related to me in his broken English and my broken German. "I loved the Americans," he told me through a huge, chuckling grin.

Today, I rented a 'New Release' at the Army shoppette called "Max Manus, Man of War." I have seen this DVD over the past month sitting on the shelves and finally rented it. I looked at the cover and sort of expected another film in the same vein as "Inglorious Basterds." Instead, I found a gem of a Norwegian film based very closely on the exploits of a Scandanavian national hero. (In retrospect, I can imagine Warren Zevon using this man as the model for his 'Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner.' If you've never heard it, check out Zevon's 1978 album "Excitable Boy." It was also the last song he ever performed publicly.)

Max Manus was a Norwegian mercenary infantry volunteer who went to Finland to fight the Soviets in the Winter War of 1939-1940. Despite odds of around 14-to-1, a lack of armor and a small, obsolescent air force, the Finns scored a miraculous tactical victory in the 3 1/2 months of war, fighting the communists to an embarassing and bloody stalemate. Nevertheless, sheer numerical superiority led Finland to relinquish nearly a quarter of its territory in the ensuing peace talks. Upon the German invasion of Norway in April of 1940 all the Norwegian volunteers, including Manus, were discharged from the Finnish military and sent home.

Upon his return to Norway, Manus and a boyhood friend formed a nascent resistance group that was eventually incorporated into the larger national resistance led by the Norwegian King Haakon 7, and his government- and military-in-exile.

It's a fascinating look at a small nation's efforts to stand up to overwhelming evil and might, and how the efforts of a few individuals can have far-reaching and positive effects despite truly overwhelming odds. It's a timeless story that, sadly, unfortunately, has lost most of its cachet in our current society.