Books like The Good Shepherd — picked by fans

From the pen of Pulitzer Prize-winning Herman Wouk, this is an engrossing World War II naval drama centred on Willie Keith, a privileged young officer serving aboard the USS Caine.

I found myself unable to put the book down, reading long into the night. As the ship endures the erratic leadership of Captain Queeg, tensions rise, culminating in a controversial mutiny during a violent typhoon. The subsequent court-martial examines themes of duty, morality, and psychological strain under pressure.

Wouk’s richly detailed narrative explores the complexities of command and the fine line between loyalty and rebellion in the heat of conflict. His writing style makes it a real page-turner. Through Willie’s personal growth and shifting loyalties, the novel delivers a powerful meditation on honour, leadership, and the human cost of war. 

I loved this book because its story is fast-paced, suspenseful, and thrilling.

I enjoyed the thrill of the main male character trying to outrun the spy that could alter the course of history. It is so well written that at times you wish the spy wouldn’t get caught!

The danger is interwoven with passion, and the heroine is a mix of vulnerability and strength.  

For me, this is the epitome of the genre.

Monsarrat’s compelling 1951 novel follows the harrowing experiences of Royal Navy officers aboard a corvette battling German U-boats in the Atlantic. Drawing from the author’s own wartime service, the story presents an unflinching account of naval life – its camaraderie, hardship, and sacrifice. Central to the narrative is Lieutenant Commander George Ericson and his young officers, whose resilience is tested by the sea’s brutality and the demands of war.

Monsarrat’s prose is spare yet evocative, capturing both the heroism and the psychological toll of naval warfare with striking authenticity and emotional depth. 

Not one of Jack Higgins’ better-known novels, I think this is something of a hidden gem.

The gripping wartime thriller, set in 1944, follows the perilous voyage of the Deutschland, a German sailing vessel attempting to return home from Brazil with twenty-two crew members and five nuns aboard. As the ship battles treacherous seas and evades Allied forces, various characters – American, British, and German – are drawn into a dramatic convergence off the Scottish coast. 

Higgins masterfully interweaves their stories, highlighting the futility of war when faced with nature’s raw power. With its sweeping narrative and emotional depth, the novel explores courage, humanity, and survival against overwhelming odds. 

I love this book because, long ago, it was one of the books that sparked my initial interest in the Second World War and the Holocaust. Through Wouk’s vivid and wonderful story of a fictional family living through the period, he also unexpectedly provided me with a terrific foundation of well-researched historical knowledge.

I had read the prequel a few years earlier and when I discovered this book was coming out (as a poor student, I couldn’t afford it), I eagerly asked for it for Christmas. When the big day arrived, I gleefully tore open the present and spent the next two days reading it nonstop, ignoring all else.

A masterful debut novel, post-WWII, and dealing with characters in the heat of battle, internally and externally.

I was forced to read it in eleventh grade Honors English (what they called AP pre-AP. Like I said, I’m old). I reread it for edification as a young writer and was awed by the craftsmanship. The writing is dense and requires patience. War is never pretty.

This was probably one of the most intense experiences with non-linear storytelling I ever had, and that did something to me I could not have predicted.

In fact, while reading this book, I started to turn the story into something of a philosophical discourse in my head. 

I really like how this book is at the same time utterly insane in parts—and I do say that with the greatest respect, it‘s the good kind of insane—while at the same time, it explores themes of dealing with earth-shattering events on a very individual level.

For me, the icing on the cake is that Kurt Vonnegut manages to even mix in a little history lesson there, because that bombing of the prisoners in Dresden? That did happen. And I didn‘t even learn about it in school—I learned it from this novel!

Before M*A*S*H and Catch 22, Michner’s book gave American readers a captivating view of the human side of U.S. soldiers and sailors at war in the South Pacific. This sequential series of interconnected short stories set in Vanuatu and the Solomon Islands works like the best TV mini-series. There are not just sailors and marines; there are locals and colonial characters. 

A great read. Don’t just take my word for it: it won a Pulitzer in 1947. And yes, the highly successful musical play South Pacific by Rodgers and Hammerstein is based on stories from this Michener classic. 

I was surprised to learn that John Hersey won a Pulitzer Prize in 1945 for a novel—in fact, his first. I had always thought of him as mainly a journalist for The New Yorker. One of my students recommended this. He was the grandson of the model for the main character, an Italian-American US Army major. My student was proud of his “nonnu,” the Allied military governor of a Sicilian village, for his efforts to help the starving villagers.

What they wanted more than food, though, was to replace the church bell that Mussolini had requisitioned to melt down and make into weapons. Spoiler alert: in the novel (and in real life), he succeeds—despite opposition from a superior officer, a thinly disguised General George S. Patton.

I had to include Alan Furst, the absolute master of historical fiction of the pre-WWII era. The first book of Furst’s Night Soldiers Series, this book introduced me to a new sort of spy thriller: instead of secret agents, these are ordinary people swept up in history.

I do love a makeover, but this is a life-and-death self-reinvention. When Khristo is targeted by the local fascist gang in 1934 Bulgaria, it’s time to run. When his first reinvention becomes dangerous, he reinvents himself again. And again. And finds love on the way. I was inspired at every turn by Khristo’s transformations without ever losing his core decency. The historical detail is so vivid I felt like I was right there with Khristo, whether he was in Moscow, Spain, or Paris.