This book took an embarrassingly long time to read. It followed me to Madrid, Linz, Kiev, the United States, plus who knows how many random German towns.
Attacks is essentially the wartime diary of Erwin Rommel which after the war was cleaned up a bit and published. I don't know as much about WWI as I would like to know and the personal account of such a famous leader gives an interesting insight into what would otherwise just be a bunch of facts.
One of the things I found very valuable was that after entries about battles/skirmishes/maneuvers/etc. Rommel would provide an "Observations" postscript. In modern day business lingo we would call this "lessons learned" and most of these observations are still valid almost 100 years later.
One of my favorite observations was made after he was wounded near Varennes.
The diary entry:
His observation?
aka, never bring a knife to gunfight.
History buffs and fans of memoirs will enjoy this book. It is considered a classic in military literature and with good reason. I give it
Attacks is essentially the wartime diary of Erwin Rommel which after the war was cleaned up a bit and published. I don't know as much about WWI as I would like to know and the personal account of such a famous leader gives an interesting insight into what would otherwise just be a bunch of facts.
One of the things I found very valuable was that after entries about battles/skirmishes/maneuvers/etc. Rommel would provide an "Observations" postscript. In modern day business lingo we would call this "lessons learned" and most of these observations are still valid almost 100 years later.
One of my favorite observations was made after he was wounded near Varennes.
The diary entry:
...Once again we rushed the enemy in the bushes ahead of us. A little group of my former recruits came with me through the underbrush. Again the enemy fired madly. Finally, scarcely twenty paces ahead I saw five Frenchmen firing from the standing position. Instantly my gun was at my shoulder. Two Frenchmen, standing one behind the other, dropped to the ground as my rifle cracked. I still was faced by three of them. Apparently my men sought shelter behind me and couldn't help me. I fired again. The rifle misfired. I quickly opened the magazine and found it empty. The nearness of the enemy left no time for reloading, nor was any shelter close at hand. There was no use thinking of escape. The bayonet was my only hope. I had been an enthusiastic bayonet fighter in time of peace and had acquired considerable proficiency. Even with the odds three to one against me, I had complete confidence in the weapon and in my ability. As I rushed forward, the enemy fired. Struck, I went head over heels and wound up a few paces in front of the enemy. A bullet, entering sideways, had shattered my upper left leg; and blood spurted from a wound as large as my fist. At any moment I expected a bullet or bayonet thrust. I tried to close the wound with my right hand and, at the same time, to roll behind an oak. For many minutes I lay there between the two fronts. Finally my men broke through the bushes and the enemy retreated...
His observation?
In a man to man fight, the winner is he who has one more round in his magazine.
aka, never bring a knife to gunfight.
History buffs and fans of memoirs will enjoy this book. It is considered a classic in military literature and with good reason. I give it