Introduction; Foreword; photographs; diagrams; documents; maps; Epilogue.

568 pages
ISBN 0-921991-30-4

   Michael Wittmann and his Tiger tank crew accomplished one of the most effective and dramatic armored attacks of the Second World War when in June 1944 at Villers-Bocage in Normandy they caught unawares a long column of tanks, infantry-laden carriers, and other vehicles of the British 22nd Armored Brigade and proceeded to single-handedly destroy the entire procession. For this action Wittmann was awarded the "Oak Leaves with Swords" for his Knight's Cross. Two months later the young tank commander was dead, credited cumulatively with destroying on the Russian Front and in Normandy 138 enemy tanks and self-propelled guns, and nearly as many anti-tank guns.
   The Wittmann legend has grown to rival the likes of Gunther Prien, Otto Kretschmer, Erich Hartmann, and Hans Joachim Marseille, including a full shelf of books about his life and exploits.
   This is one of the most recent, and almost certainly the largest and heaviest, although in this case Wittmann shares billing with his colleagues of the Tiger company (and then battalion) of the 1st SS Panzer Division.
   Voted one of the Top Ten books of 1996 by visitors to the Stone & Stone Second World War Books website, this tome combines detailed operational and personal accounts with hundreds of photographs, exquisite organigrams (which include the names of the crewmen of each tank), maps, news clippings, and reproductions of official documents. Little is left unsaid about these men and their battles.
   Without disagreeing with the collective wisdom of those of our esteemed visitors who selected the book as one of the year's best, I'm going to use this review to step up on my soapbox for a moment and in doing so take issue with the words and sentiments not of the book's author but of Walter Lau, who contributed the Introduction which includes some prose about the willingness of the panzer men to sacrifice themselves for the "Fatherland":

   ...Unterscharfuehrer Langner, who shot himself in the Sabolot area in December 1943 when Red Army soldiers clambered onto his tank.... Or Sturmmann Erlander, the short, blonde tank driver from Alsace, whose tank was immobilized by a hit in the running gear.... The tank was struck by another shell; no trace of Erlander was ever found. Or loader Paul Stumnich, who had both legs blown off by an anti-tank round.... And another veteran loader, Gunter Boldt, only nineteen years old but in service since 1942 who, at Hill 112, managed to jump from his burning tank in spite of the loss of both feet and stumble several meters across a Norman field. He is buried at the La Cambe military cemetery. There were many such soldiers' fates in our Tiger Battalion. To them loyalty to the Fatherland was more than empty words. Those who were there will never forget the fallen and missing and wish to take care to see that future generations, too, will honor the memory of the fallen and their devotion to Germany.

   These were not glorious or inspiring deaths. These were the ugly, agonizing, completely needless deaths of brave young men who were probably quite decent at heart but perverted and brainwashed by a wicked regime into fighting for an evil cause and giving their lives not for their country but for a malignant dictator and his twisted, repugnant philosophy of hatred and racism.
   All of us who study the history of the greatest cataclysm of the Twentieth Century must be on guard against crossing the boundary where interest or research mutates into glorification or worship of the horror of war.
   Similarly, while we can honor the bravery, heroism, and skill of soldiers, sailors, and airmen of all nations, we must be careful that honoring the men does not bring honor to a dishonorable cause.
   Michael Wittmann is available from mail order booksellers, from local bookshops, or directly from J. J. Fedorowicz for $85.
   Thanks to Fedorowicz for providing this review copy and I apologize for using their book as my soapbox, but I'm confident they share my sentiments.