Title: Barbarossa Through Soviet
Eyes: The First 24 Hours
Author: Artem Drabkin, Alexei IsaevISBN: 978-1-84415-923-9
Publisher: Pen and Sword
Hardcover
Pages: 186
Photographs//maps: 129 b/w//3
22 June, 1941 is easily a day as
important in the history of the Russian/Soviet peoples as Pearl Harbour is to
the United States. Their societies were shocked, in disbelief, angry, resentful
and in many cases pleased that the Germans had invaded. What is oftentimes missing is a record of the
reaction, the human face if you will, of the Soviet people as the German
juggernaut swept over them. This is due to many things but mainly because of
the closed and controlled nature of the Soviet Union post World War 2 and its
reluctance to reveal anything that may be perceived as weakness. Thus a
majority of the Eastern Front histories have been written and interpreted from
a German perspective. This book represents an effort to rectify that imbalance
and to add the voice of the Soviet soldier and civilian to the discussion.
Books originally in Russian
sometimes lose a portion of their focus in translation and also are often in a
style quite unique from traditional English writings; Drabkin’s book is no
exception to this. The narrative is good but at times appears to flow off in
directions that cause the reader to pause. Additionally, there are a
significant number of instances where the author neglects to explain his point
or perspective in adequate detail thus leaving the reader to wonder what was
the intent.
Having said this however; there is
much to compliment this book. Drabkin identifies early on that he initiated the
book as a repository of the recollections of the generation that fought in the
Great Patriotic War and he draws a great deal from the website ‘iremember.ru’
which he created as a central spot for veterans to have their stories
preserved. While the book is quite short relative to the subject, he does give
adequate balance to all of the elements, the rear echelon and the home front,
in outlining experiences and recollections. He also spends a good deal of time
on those aspects of the invasion that have received little to no coverage in
contemporary history, specifically the actions of the Soviet navy in the Baltic
and Black Sea.
Drabkin’s subjects range in age and
responsibility (from, for example, children in the smallest villages far from
the front to those with access to the inner sanctum of Stalin’s office) and it
is very interesting to view the different perspectives and perceptions of that
day. One is struck by the reliance people had on government radio and local
newspapers for information, the confusion of the initial commands regarding
response postures, the striking lack of initiative on the part of a significant
number of commanders, and, in contrast, the bravery shown many who did assume
the risk of independent response. It is also fascinating both the degree of
shock and surprise felt by the Soviet people at being attacked by the Germans and
the number of instances where Soviet soldiers were spontaneously attacked or
impeded by Ukrainian, Polish, Baltic and other occupied peoples as they
struggled to organize a response.
The book is a relatively quick read
and, while it provides a strategic and operational context within which the recollections
occur, there are better histories of Operation Barbarossa available for those
seeking this information. Where it becomes much more worthwhile is the human
face that it puts on the Soviet side of the conflict. Pen and Sword have
published, as per, a quality book and the sources provided are a good lead for
those looking at the Soviet side of the war.