100 Books Like Crete 1941

For me, the standout history of the Battle of Crete to this day remains this book, first published back in 1966. Stewart was able to bring his own experience of the war to bear–he had served as a medical officer with a British unit and witnessed with his own eyes the spectacular airborne German invasion.

This is not, however, a first-hand battle account but rather the beautifully crafted result of six years of research drawing on voluminous first-hand accounts, archival sources, and histories. I am drawn to the compelling descriptions of battle while also appreciating the skill with which the author places the Battle of Crete in its wider political and strategic context. 

For me, the history of any war or battle can only be grasped if the perspectives of both–or perhaps all–sides are taken into account. One of the most revealing accounts from a German perspective came from the pen of Baron von der Heydte.

Heydte was among those who parachuted into Crete on the first day of battle; his account conveys that perilous endeavor through his eyes and follows his participation until the surrender of Chania a week later. Intriguing for me, too, is how Heydte, once an avid Nazi, cleverly dials back here his enthusiasm for the cause.

I know the value of visiting the sites of battle, even decades or centuries after the event. A sense of topography and space acquired in situ can provide insights in ways that pages, maps, and screens cannot. Yannis Prekatsounakis is a native of Heraklion. His book is infused with his own intimate sense of the place where a crucial part of the Battle of Crete raged. 

Prekatsounakis, for good reason, laments that the works of many historians on the Battle of Crete lack Greek perspectives. While he delivers them in abundance here, he weaves them with narratives and accounts of German and Allied participants as well. I love the abundance of maps and photographs that complement the author’s own heightened sense of place. 

As an Australian, I am struck by the silence around the Battle of Crete and other campaigns in that part of the world. In stark contrast to our neighbors across the Tasman, for Australia, the Second World War was all about the war in the Pacific.  

This book by the Australian military historian Albert Palazzo, published in an Australian Army Campaign series, is not simply an Australian perspective on the Battle of Crete, but it does foreground the Australian contribution. What appeals to me also is the rich array of visual material it presents, often in full color, from photographs and maps to Orders of Battle, Chains of Command, and weapons.

All of this is complemented by expert knowledge from a historian who knows his strategy, his tactics, and his hardware.

Not crime although there are crimes in it. The narrative structure of the quartet was a major influence on structuring my trilogy. The first three present different versions of the same events and characters in Alexandria, Egypt before and during the Second World War. In Book 1, a self-absorbed, pretentious narrator, Darley, presents an account of an intense love affair. In book 2, Balthazar shows how ignorant he was about what was really going on about him. Mountolive widens the political context and shows both earlier narrators were looking through the wrong end of a telescope. Book 4 manages to tease out yet more solutions to mysteries thought resolved.

I have a theory that great fiction about the British Army may require conscription – that system propelled individuals who otherwise would have never joined the military into the institution. They could then respond in writing in a manner that peacetime volunteers were never able to.

Evelyn Waugh, already in his late 30s when the Second World War was declared in 1939, was an unlikely soldier. However, he turned his experiences – notably in West Africa, Crete, and Yugoslavia – into a trio of fine fiction centered on a somewhat Waugh-like character, Guy Crouchback.

Waugh’s genius is to capture some of the eccentricities of army life – the discussion about the merits of porpoise skin as a material for boots will echo with anyone who has ever overheard, or participated in, an earnest discussion about the minutiae of kit. 

This book brings back to life the pioneering British archaeologists who, basing themselves at the atmospheric Villa Ariadne, rediscovered the prehistoric civilisation of the Minoans at Knossos on the island of Crete.

I love this book because it brings back memories of when I excavated at Knossos—the local workmen lowered an apprehensive me into an ancient well to measure its depth and I stayed next door to the Villa, taking walks in the surrounding countryside carpeted with wildflowers.

The Villa was purloined by the Germans in World War II. The book also taught me about the bravery of the Cretan resistance to the Nazis, including the dramatic kidnap of a German general on the Villa’s doorstep. 

This Cretan writer, who is most often identified as a Greek, asks us to probe our deepest identity, to be honest with ourselves. I think that that should be the first premise of an honest writer…an honest person. When you are born you are told early what to believe. Why you should believe. Who you and what you should believe or not believe in. At some point in your own life, you must resolve what you yourself accept for your own belief system. You should determine what is or is not important to you. Only then can you live YOUR LIFE.

I loved this book because it made me feel like I was there, living in the Cretan White Mountains in the 1960s on a very tight budget, surrounded by magnificent Greek countryside, and eating local foods. I have visited Crete several times and found the kindness, friendliness, and philoxenia- hospitality shown to strangers by the locals is still true of the Cretan people today.

This is a beautiful and truly memorable read. If you ever wondered what it would be like to go and live in the mountains of Greece, this book will make you feel like you have done just that. I want to go back just thinking about it.

This book doesn’t allow for any preparation—it bites you right away! The beauty of it lies in how Kazantzakis deals with human experiences from moment to moment. He shows us how to live in the moment. For instance, in the end, Zorba and his friend have lost all their money, but Zorba says, “Let’s dance.”

They aren’t defeated but go on to the next experience. It touched me to see how they could live in the now, for life is rich.