71 Books Like She Went to War

This is more historical fiction than nonfiction, but the backmatter contains notes, a bibliography, and a decent index.

It details the work of four Civil War-era women who made significant contributions to the war effort on both sides. Flamboyant teenager Belle Boyd and scheming temptress Rose O’Neal Greenhow spied for the South; Emma Edmonds enlisted in the Union Army as Frank Thompson; and secret abolitionist Elizabeth Van Lew managed an espionage ring under the noses of her Richmond neighbors.

I cheered each one of them through the entire book, wondering if I could have been as strong and resolute as they were. They didn’t cower in their homes. They stood up and made their lives count in an era when the overwhelming majority of women did no such thing.

I love this beautifully-told story with its bold message about believing in yourself and the power of forgiveness. This native Alaskan legend tells of two old women from long ago. When the tribe faces severe famine during a dangerously cold winter, they abandon the two old “useless” women with no food, leaving them to starve.

Now, the two old women must learn to believe in themselves and fight the elements to survive. They remember forgotten wisdom from their youth–how to make snares and find fish under the ice. They not only survive, but thrive. But once they do, their ultimate challenge is to forgive those who left them to die. Because now the tribe is struggling and will not survive without their help. 

The Fishers’ nonfiction book is a starting point for understanding why and how matriarchies have evolved, succeeded, failed, endured.

It’s a scholarly work, meticulously researched, and can be heavy reading at times. But it’s also engaging and fascinating. I used it while researching my book to give me a better understanding of how matriarchies work and why they still work – or don’t work - today. 

This is a new dystopian matriarchal novel, first in a series, that I’ve just discovered. Interestingly, it’s been described as the opposite of The Handmaid’s Tale.

The story is of a female-controlled society in which men are kept imprisoned and used as breeders. Neen, a female scientist who is interviewing men for their potential as sperm donors, begins to question the status quo when some of the men she meets don’t fit her preconceptions.

I was attracted to the book because its story is comparable to my book, but the tone and world-building are completely different. I loved the plot twists and the focus on ethical dilemmas.

“The man with ten minutes to live was laughing.” Thus begins one of the greatest war novels by one of the greatest living writers of espionage thrillers. 

Frederick Forsyth’s epic story of the Persian Gulf War mingles fact with fiction, and never lets up its humming current of suspense. Incidentally, that laughing man was Gerald Vincent Bull, a real historical figure who invented a super-gun for Saddam Hussein. Not exactly the safest line of work. 

His assassination triggered a Rube Goldberg series of events that only Forsyth would have the… well… foresight to use as the first sentence in this violent, epochal tale. 

I am sure many will remember seeing the news footage on TV showing the little boy standing next to Saddam Hussain during the first Gulf War. He was, of course, not there by choice, as he was actually one of the hostages being held at the time. It was an interesting propaganda exercise, especially as Saddam tried to encourage Stuart to get closer but he was clearly not having it! From a PR perspective, it was unsuccessful and was not accepted as a positive image by those in the West. 

This book is written by his mother and describes just how traumatic the experience was for all the family as well as all the other families held hostage at the time. As the final book in my selection, it completes the theme of the futility of war and its impact on the individuals closest to the action. 

I’ve just returned from a research trip to Iraq (one of many settings for my next book: stay tuned). I took along two Iraqi novels, The President's Gardens and Daughter of the Tigris (they’re really just one; the first literally ends with the words to be continued) and I was as stirred by reading them as by what I saw there. While we protest Russia’s outrageous rape of Ukraine, we forget the hideous mess that America’s unjustifiable invasion left in Iraq. Even under Saddam Hussein, Iraq was considered the flower of Arab culture, a land overflowing with poetry, music, and art. Today much of it is rubble. Masterfully, Al-Ramli describes the latter with all the breathtaking beauty of the former. This ranks among my most moving reading experiences ever.

Iceland is one of the first off-the-beaten-track places I visited as an aspiring young travel writer and I arrived with the onset of the first Gulf War - the one against Saddam Hussein.

I visited with three other people. We immediately met a man in Reykjavik who introduced us to his diplomat friend, and before it was all said and done we spent most of that trip with the Icelander and the Frenchman in front of a much more rudimentary CNN, watching the war.

While I’ve been back to Iceland a number of times since, that first trip, the instant friendships, and the very odd experience of watching war in the desert from up at the Arctic Circle, sealed the deal for me about visiting the far north, and indirectly led to my own later book.

Halldor Laxness is the greatest of Icelandic authors and Independent People is very nearly… show more.

It’d be hard to imagine a former marine, who served during the 1980’s or 1990’s, not identifying with Anthony Swofford’s Jarhead.

Swofford and his unit land in the desert sand to kickoff Operation Desert Shield, and months of boredom, anxiety, and self-doubt blanket the men. This isn’t your typical “shoot ‘em up bang bang” war diary. In fact, Swofford is a sniper who never fires a shot.

But months of patrolling an empty desert, living “the suck” life, eagerly awaiting a war to start, and the fear of the unknown drag on these marines and test their sanity. After months of grinding, the Gulf War begins then quickly ends. 

I admit drawing a big breath before buying this book. At nearly 1200 pages of dense type, it’s no lightweight.

But years before, I had admired Fisk’s war reporting. Here, I found all the qualities I remembered: nuanced geopolitics with humanity, brutal honesty with subtle observation, pointed modern parallels from an erudite grasp of history. Then I delight in the sheer virtuosity of word craft: not surprising from someone who wrote thousands of words to deadline, sometimes shouting his despatches against cannon fire over stuttering phone lines.

Above all, I find myself repeatedly inspired by his ability to observe and note every tiny yet resonant detail: from the serial number on a rocket fragment to the shoes worn by an official.