The most recommended WW2 nonfiction books

A little-known aspect of the Pacific War was the imprisonment of Allied civilians. While these Japanese-run prison camps were not deliberate death machines, as were the Nazi-run concentration camps, large numbers of women and children died of starvation and disease there, or at least had their health permanently ruined. Many stories would come out of these camps, both horrific and inspiring. Perhaps the most brilliantly creative story of the latter category was the vocal orchestra, a group of imprisoned women who sought to recreate symphonic music with their voices. Colijn’s memoir was made into the film, Paradise Road.

The Hero of Bataan is an excellent book that tells the story not of General Douglas MacArthur, but General Jonathan Wainwright, the real hero of Bataan and Corregidor. It covers the battle of the Philippines at the outset of the U.S. involvement in World War II, the fall of the Philippines, and Wainwright’s experiences as a Japanese-held POW for the rest of the war. It describes that even as the senior U.S. POW in Japanese hands, Wainwright was treated as poorly as any other POW, as were other Allied general officers listed in the book. I find this an excellent, interesting, must-read to understand what really occurred in the Philippines during the early stages of the war and to those who survived the battles.

Edited by historian Judy Barrett Litoff, who wrote a comprehensive introduction outlining Virginia d’Albert-Lake’s war, this memoir recounts the dramatic experience of a rare American woman resistance agent in occupied France. Working with the legendary Comet escape line, she and her French husband helped shelter and move 66 Allied airmen to safety. But in 1944, a German question answered in her American accent got her sent straight to the Gestapo and then to Ravensbrück concentration camp. Virginia d’Albert-Lake tells her amazing story of life on the edge from the pages of her diary.

I wanted to dive into Hitler’s mind as I wrote words pouring from his mouth, and this book did not disappoint. From the opening pages I felt immersed in his pathetically creepy world where he was always the hero, or the wronged one, the victim. His rise to power was foreseeable, predictable, and avoidable, urged forward by people of wealth who consistently chose personal profit over integrity. Reading this book helped me understand how divisiveness can be propagated using deft propaganda. This book is terrifying, revealing, and really important to understand.

It’s no secret that uniformed men and women welcome canine friends in wartime. In our book, Bill Husselman and Mary Brandon wrote home regularly about dogs they or their mates adopted in France, Italy, and elsewhere.

That said, Robert Weintraub’s book is no ordinary tale about bonding between humans and animals. Weintraub painstakingly recounts how an RAF radar technician named Frank and a purebred English pointer named Judy survived separate hells at the start of World War II, only to be imprisoned in an internment camp in the Pacific. There, despite being close to starvation, they used their wits to keep each other alive, even as they were subjected to ever-worsening cruelty and malnutrition.

Weintraub’s story is spellbinding and inspiring–and no less a love story of loyalty between man and dog.

I picked up this book by Geoff Dyer not because I love his other books – I hadn’t read any of them at the time – but because Where Eagles Dare was one of my favourite films when I was a boy. In England, at least, in the days of three TV channels, before the internet or even video, it was a Christmas treat to watch old war movies. 

Broadsword Calling Danny Boy accidentally brought back tons of childhood memories, but it’s a brilliant stand-alone essay, even if you have never watched the film or don’t know who Richard Burton or Clint Eastwood are.

I know Dyer had legions of fans before me, but after reading this hilarious romp of a read, he has one more. Quick and thoroughly enjoyable.

In the 1930s, Republicans across America heaped criticism on President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal programs, which they claimed would wither free enterprise and damage the economy. They labeled him a “socialist”—or worse.

Among the Republicans who broke with this broad Republican assault on FDR was John G. Winant, the Republican governor of New Hampshire. Winant gave up state politics to establish FDR’s Social Security program, and after the start of World War II Winant became FDR’s ambassador to London.

Winant’s courage, first in breaking with his party to join FDR, and then helping Winston Churchill and the British people fend off the Nazi assault, is part of Lynne Olson’s authoritative Citizens of London, the Americans Who Stood with Britain in its Darkest, Finest Hour.

This book blew my mind. It is the antithesis to the previous book I recommended reading, Wine & War, and essential reading to understand both sides of a morally complicated time and issue. Just as there were many heroic acts to save French wine from Nazi plunder, there were also many collaborators amongst the winemakers navigating through challenging times trying to survive and keep their domaines, maisons, and chateaux afloat.

It’s always easy to look back on history from the safety of the present; however, casting judgment on individuals and their actions shouldn’t be done lightly. The book reads more like a historical textbook but shouldn’t be overlooked or discarded based solely on its prose or limited subject matter.

I highly recommend this book. It delves into the ever-fascinating history of French wine and the compromises that were made by regular people trying to survive during the Second World War… show more.

It’s almost impossible to embrace what deployed nurses went through in World War II. This book reveals some of the trials they endured, depending on their theater. Some suffered imprisonment and torture, while nearly all of these women worked under duress and danger we can scarcely imagine.

I never imagined becoming completely absorbed by a quasi-philosophical meditation about survival—especially not by a self-styled Spanish intellectual and Communist with a capital "C." I became entranced, however, by Jorge Semprun’s inner struggle to find the words to convey his experiences in the Buchenwald concentration camp.

Of course, he does find the words—powerful, incisive, kinetic – though it took him 50+ years to do so. Why so long? Because, he writes, had he tried to turn his trauma into “literature” earlier, he might well have committed suicide. Instead, he chose life - and went on to co-author Z, the 1970 double-Oscar-winning film, and serve as Minister of Culture in post-Franco Spain.