Book Review

Book Review: “The Fifth Act” by Elliot Ackerman

/ Peter Martuneac / 5 Comments

I came to this book in a surprisingly roundabout and atypical way: a rabbit hole of Wikipedia articles. It started with checking out some recent edits on the page of my former battalion, the 3rd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, and eventually led to the page for Elliot Ackerman, himself a former Marine and now an author.

I perused the list of his books and immediately felt a call from The Fifth Act: America’s End in Afghanistan. That was my war, Elliot’s war; our war. I bookmarked the page so I’d remember to buy it once I inevitably received at least one Barnes & Noble gift card for Christmas.

Christmas came and I went to the store to pick it up the next day. I started reading it that night and couldn’t put it down. I finished it the very next morning, just an hour ago, in fact.

This is not a recounting of all the events leading up to the collapse of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan to the Taliban, but more of a memoir. The author guides us through his involvement in the efforts made by US citizens and military veterans to evacuate Afghans who would almost certainly be murdered by the Taliban once the US completed its withdrawal.

Juxtaposed against these harrowing tales of fear, hope, and despair are the scenes of the author’s family vacation. While he was touring Italy with his wife and kids, Ackerman was furiously messaging and calling every contact he had and even folks he’d never met, trying to arrange safe evacuation for hundreds of people. It’s a jarring switch every time, to go from scenes of chaos and death to fancy dinners in Rome, but it highlights the absolute insanity of war and in particular this war as it drew to its close.

Ackerman also tells some stories of his time in Afghanistan as a Marine and later as a CIA paramilitary officer. He recalls a few missions, including times when friends fell in combat. These stories spoke to me, of course. My own memories of the war flooded back, and I felt anew all those old emotions.

As I said above, I couldn’t hardly put down the book and I stopped reading only twice. Once, when a picture of a blown-up and bloodied Humvee hit too close to home; I stopped only long enough to dry my eyes and pour a double-shot of Bulleit bourbon. Second, to go to sleep.

I was struck by how many of the author’s emotions and reactions to the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan I shared. At points, it felt like I was reading something I myself had written. But this was also reassuring, to know that I wasn’t the only one who felt helpless, who felt guilty for not doing more.

That feeling was the most poignant for me, and my biggest takeaway from the book. Ackerman recounts a personal sense of betrayal when he left the war despite friends continuing in it. It’s a choice all of us make, a choice not forced upon some previous generations. For veterans of World War II, the war was over when the empires of Japan and Nazi Germany formally surrendered and peace treaties were signed; in the Afghanistan War, as Ackerman puts it, thousands of individual peace treaties were signed by the thousands of American participants. The war went on, but we who left had finished with it.

It’s a guilt I still feel from time to time. If I’d stayed in the Marines, or re-enlisted as an Army Ranger like I’d once intended, I could have done more. Perhaps I could have, like Ackerman, developed enough of a contact list with important enough people to make a difference in the evacuation efforts.

But I didn’t, and I couldn’t. I wanted out because it was this very scenario I foresaw. After returning from my first deployment, after we buried our dead and held their memorial services, I realized that ultimately it would all fail. I’d seen enough of the war over there to know that one day we would leave, and on that day the Taliban would take over.

I told myself I could get out after four years and deal with the guilt and sadness of that day when it comes, or fight for another four or eight years, let the war take an even deeper hold of me, and still deal with the guilt and sadness when that day arrived all the same.

I chose the former, and I still don’t know if that was the right choice.

The Fifth Act was a fantastic, highly emotional work that takes you inside the mind of a veteran of America’s longest war as he watched it draw to a bloody, chaotic, and tragic end. It’s only about 260 pages and as I have proven something that can be read in a day, if you so chose.

I highly recommend this one to fellow veterans of the Afghan war, or to civilians who wonder what we may have felt in those harrowing weeks of the war’s end.

Book Review: ‘The Saxon Stories’ by Bernard Cornwell

/ Peter Martuneac / 1 Comment

I finally did it. I read all thirteen books in The Saxon Stories, and I’m ready to say my final word about the story as a whole.

First off for those who don’t know, The Saxon Stories is a work of historical fiction, telling the epic tale of Uhtred of Bebbanburg (allegedly the distant ancestor of the author). His story spans the reigns of King Alfred the Great of Wessex, King Edward the Elder, and King Athelstan, the first true King of the English.

As a boy, Uhtred’s family is slain in battle by Danish invaders. His uncle claims lordship of the castle of Bebbanburg despite it legally falling to Uhtred, and then he is kidnapped by a Danish warlord and raised like his son. Throughout his life, Uhtred’s singular goal stays the same: reclaim what is his and kill the usurper, his uncle.

Cornwell is an incredible author. He writes with authenticity and emotion, bringing characters to life. You can almost hear the clashing of swords and the screams of dying men, see the flapping banners of kings and chieftains, in his battle scenes. The tension is palpable in scenes in which the pagan Uhtred stands before a Christian king or lord, his fate laying in their hands as they are told by some to exile or execute him for his sins. All in all I really enjoyed his books.

My only real complaint comes from the length of the series. Thirteen books is a lot to read, and eventually minor characters and places start to blend together. In the last couple of books, some characters die whose names I remember, but I can’t exactly remember their relationship to Uhtred so the emotional punch falls flatter than it might. As Uhtred meets younger warriors who tell him how they fought beside him at this or that battle, I struggle to remember which battle it was.

***Spoiler alert in the next paragraph***

And my biggest complaint has to be how Uhtred manages to recapture Bebbanburg before the series actually ends, at the end of book ten. As a result, the last three books didn’t have anywhere near the tension of the first ten because, well, the overarching storyline was already complete. Uhtred was lord of Bebbanburg again! He’d finally done it! Throughout the first ten books, as it seemed that Uhtred was about to die, I’d think, Oh no, and he never got to reclaim his lands! After that, as death approached Uhtred, I met it with more of a shrug. Meh, at least he got to rule Bebbanburg again.

I’m just not a fan of these extended stories, series that are ten, thirteen, fifteen books long. I just don’t think any story needs to be that long. I can think of four or five of these books that could have been cut and you’d still have an epic tale.

But as I said above, this was overall an excellent work of historical fiction that I enjoyed tremendously. I highly recommend it to fans of the genre. For others, maybe give Book 1 a try. I will say the writing style is told in first person from the point of view of a 9th century Saxon, and the writing can feel a bit… blunt at times. It’s kind of hard to describe, but it’s noticeably different from other books. At least, I felt it was.

There’s also the Netflix series available to watch, which is a fine show but I much prefer the books.

Book Review: “Six Frigates” by Ian W. Toll

/ Peter Martuneac / 8 Comments

Living in the year 2023 AD, it’s hard to believe that, once upon a time, the American military was the laughingstock of the world. There was a time when the United States couldn’t even defend their own coastline, let alone project military power to another region of the world.

It was the turn of the 19th century. The 1700’s were coming to a close and a new nation entered the 1800’s with nothing but hope for the future. The mighty Atlantic Ocean kept America safe from Napoleon’s bloodthirsty wars of expansion, wars that in turn put goods from the neutral Americans in high demand. Money from its lucrative trade deals flowed into the infant nation and the good times rolled.

But war with Europe was on the horizon, and Moroccan pirates patrolled the Mediterranean, plundering American ships without fear of reprisal. Though many Americans objected, a certain few statesmen realized a basic truth: to survive, the United States needed a Navy.

Six Frigates is a fantastic historic account of the beginnings of the United States Navy, a force that began with six unique frigates, one of which is still in service today. These frigates were bigger than their European equivalents, but faster and more maneuverable, too. They carried more cannons and were made with some of the strongest wood in the world. This wood came from the Southern Live Oak, a species of tree that grows only in the Deep South of America and contributed to one of the six frigates, the USS Constitution earning the nickname ‘Old Ironsides’.

As a matter of fact, the United States Navy to this day maintains its own forest of these trees so as to be able to continuously repair the USS Constitution with its original wood.

The other five of the original frigates were named the Chesapeake, President, United States, Congress, and Constellation. These names were chosen off a list of ten names presented to then-president George Washington. However, his interest in a Navy was minimal, so his method of selecting the names was picking the first six on the list.

All in all, I really enjoyed this book and its historical account of the origins of the United States Navy. The author pumped it full of good information and also included some sardonic humor here and there, such as the below passage:

As Rodgers came up over the side to take possession of the captured ship, he was privately thrilled by the sight of the carnage the enemy had suffered. “Although I would not have you think me bloody minded,” the bloody-minded lieutenant wrote Stoddert, “yet I must confess the most gratifying sight my eyes ever held.”

I highly recommend this one to those of you with an interest in US history, and it’s available for free on the Internet Archive!

Book Review: ‘The Andromeda Strain’ by Michael Crichton

/ Peter Martuneac / 5 Comments

A deadly new virus that kills infected people within seconds is discovered in a remote desert town. A team of scientists are now working around the clock to figure out what it is, how it works, and, most importantly, if they can stop it.

A friend of mine at work lent me his copy of Sphere by Michael Crichton, and I really enjoyed it! So when I was done with that he let me borrow Crichton’s first novel The Andromeda Strain. I read it in a single day.

I’ve only read two Michael Crichton books, but I noticed some striking similarities between Sphere and The Andromeda Strain. First, the protagonists are a group of scientists assembled by the government to investigate something strange from outer space. Second, the protagonists are set in an environment in which they cannot operate as they normally would (in Sphere they are in an underwater station, and in the other they’re in a sterile lab environment working with a virus they don’t dare go near without full hazmat suits).

Lastly, and most oddly, in each book there’s one scientist who, for one reason or another, does not actually partake in the mission. In Sphere, one of them had a panic attack in the submarine that would have taken him far below the ocean, and so remained on a ship, and in this book one of the scientists was in a hospital recovering from a surgery.

I’m not sure why Crichton does this, and I’m not sure if he does it in other books, but I thought it was odd at first to include a character that abruptly exits (for a reason that has nothing to do with the plot, nor does their absence end up effecting the plot) and then it happened again in another book. Just odd.

Anyway, the story itself was thrilling. As I said above, I shot through the entire thing in one day. I did find the ending to be a tad abrupt, however, and a little messy. I don’t think Crichton tied up all his loose ends in a satisfactory way as he did in Sphere.

Also throughout the book it is mentioned by the narrator that the scientists were asking the wrong questions, ignoring valuable data, headed the wrong way, etc. But when the big reveal about the virus is made… it didn’t seem like it was something they could have ever deduced until the moment of the reveal. It just felt weirdly anticlimactic to me.

But it wasn’t a terrible ending by any means. This was still an exciting thriller that I was happy to read, and I would highly recommend it if you haven’t read it already!

Book Review: “The Directorate” by Berthold Gambrel

/ Peter Martuneac / 2 Comments

This is a repost of a book review I did on my old blog, so I figured I’d bring this one back and remind everyone about this gem! Fellow blogger and author Berthold Gambrel’s sci-fi adventure can be read here for just 99 cents. You can give it a download, then come back and read my review!

In the 23rd century humans have not only colonized Mars and the Moon but built thriving civilizations. As one may predict, the peoples from each planet start to get a little nationalistic in their pride for their home-world. A war breaks out, the conclusion of which spawns an overarching government called The Directorate. They oversee the goings-on of Mars, Earth, and the Moon and, in an effort to avoid future wars between the planets, push an agenda of sameness between the worlds. And that holds up for a while…

Until one extremist with a bomb decides to make a statement.

This story is told in 3rd person and follows Lt. Theresa Gannon, a low-level officer in the Directorate’s military/law enforcement branch. While on the Moon, she is witness to a terrorist attack on a famous library and this sets her on a collision course with destiny.

I really want to talk more about the plot but I don’t want to spoil anything, so I’ll bite my tongue. I will say that the story is fairly straightforward, even for a guy like me who is easily bamboozled in books and movies, but that’s not a knock on the story at all. I’ve written before about predictability in fiction and how it’s not necessarily a bad thing. To me, reading is about the journey, not the destination. And if the journey is beautiful and pleasant and delightful, then who the hell cares if you end up exactly where you expected to be?

The dialogue was good, never clunky. Gannon was a believable, relatable character. A military woman trying to do her duty while battling an underlying premonition that not everything she’s seeing is on the up and up. She has to make some hard choices, and it’s not always the best choice.

For a military character, she was really well done. As a military man myself, it is so easy for authors to get this completely wrong and end up with a cheesy caricature. Not Gannon. I felt like I could relate to her struggles, to her thought processes and the way she dealt with trauma.

The only thing about her character that disappointed me was that, when she finally kills someone in combat, the moment is just glossed over. In previous chapters she’d made a point to mention how she’d never yet been in direct combat and so wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle it; after all, merely seeing the aftermath of combat had left her shaken.

I knew a ‘first kill’ would be coming and I thought it might have some profound meaning to Gannon, but it seemed to be just business as usual for her. I didn’t want a scene where time stops as she reflected on the gravity of the act of killing; that’s one of those cheesy cliches I hate. But I would have liked just a touch of reflection in the eerie calm that follows combat. Even a passing mention, now that the danger has passed and her mind can relax, that she had ended a life would have been, I thought, appropriate.

And then the ending was a little too abrupt/untidy for my taste. A lot is left undecided in the aftermath of the plot’s resolution. Again, without spoiling anything, I would have liked to get at least some inkling of the Directorate’s next move or Gannon’s role in the military, all events considered. But that’s just a personal preference.

I wanted to give this 5-stars. It was a real page turner and I read nearly the entire thing in two days. But it lacked that extra oomph a 5-star read needs. I was very pleased with the story, but not thoroughly blown away. 4 or 4.5 stars is what I’ll give it, and a strong recommendation to fans of sci-fi!