For 25 years, my job consisted in large of part of sitting down with people and encouraging genuine dialog, GIVE and take, to settle sometimes horrendous challenges without the use of force. Maybe I'm just getting old, or perhaps just tired of getting annoyed and angry, but we're not going to make our lives better, all of our lives better, if we cling to the overly human tendency to "otherize" people we don't know, and refuse to engage in dialog, to see others (even those we do know) as just after our slice of the pie.
Let those with issues and concerns talk, truly talk, to one another. And work to make the pie bigger and shared out fairly.
I hope that's my last word on the subject.
Welcome to Ethical Alchemy, an exploration of history, diplomacy, law, politics, philosophy, gaming, and whatever else comes to mind.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Friday, November 28, 2014
July 1914 and the "Draconian, Unacceptable" Austrian Ultimatum
Post hoc ergo propter hoc
I am reading another book on the outbreak of World War I (July 1914: Countdown to War, by Sean McMeekin), and again there is the assertion that Austria drafted its ultimatum to Serbia so as to ensure that it would be rejected, leading to war between the two states (although not inevitably a Europe-wide conflagration). The usual clauses are cited:
I am reading another book on the outbreak of World War I (July 1914: Countdown to War, by Sean McMeekin), and again there is the assertion that Austria drafted its ultimatum to Serbia so as to ensure that it would be rejected, leading to war between the two states (although not inevitably a Europe-wide conflagration). The usual clauses are cited:
5. to agree to the cooperation in Serbia of the organs of the Imperial and Royal Government in the suppression of the subversive movement directed against the integrity of the Monarchy;
6. to institute a judicial inquiry against every participant in the conspiracy of the twenty-eighth of June who may be found in Serbian territory; the organs of the Imperial and Royal Government delegated for this purpose will take part in the proceedings held for this purpose;
McMeekin asserts: "No sovereign state could reasonably be expected to turn over the operation of her police and justice systems to representatives of an outside and hostile power." McMeekin's summary of the clauses' effect is typical for the genre. But still wrong. The ultimatum doesn't demand the usurpation of Serbian state organs in favor of Imperial and Royal (i.e., Austro-Hungarian -AH) state organs, not even in the present investigation, limited to the assassination of the heir-designate to the AH throne and the associated movement. It requests only that Belgrade permit the involvement of AH officials in those proceedings. Vienna did not ask for control over, or even a veto over, those proceedings. Just direct participation.
Surely, in hindsight, such a minor infringement on Serbia's sovereignty would have been preferable to the occupation of the entire state by hostile forces for over two years, and the deaths of 750,000 to 1,250,000 Serbs - out of a population of only 4.6 million! Let alone the millions of other deaths globally from 1914 to 1918.
Surely, in hindsight, such a minor infringement on Serbia's sovereignty would have been preferable to the occupation of the entire state by hostile forces for over two years, and the deaths of 750,000 to 1,250,000 Serbs - out of a population of only 4.6 million! Let alone the millions of other deaths globally from 1914 to 1918.
Simply put, to argue once again that since Belgrade rejected the clauses proves that no state could have agreed to them, and therefore Vienna meant for the ultimatum to be rejected in order to provide a casus belli, is an example of the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy.
As to why Belgrade refused the ultimatum: clearly, the Serbs did not expect such a ruinous war. Presumably they expected the head of Hungarian government, Count Tisza, to check the rush to war, or some other intervention to halt Vienna's military involvement in the Balkans, as happened in 1912 and 1913 during the First and Second Balkan Wars.
Update I: A few chapters later (the book is arranged chronologically), McMeekin asserts that Serbia rejected the ultimatum on the direction of Russia, who also instructed Serbia to not defend Belgrade from the Austrian army. This appears to be part and parcel of McMeekin's thesis that Tsarist Russia bears the "war guilt" for 1914 (not Germany), and Russia was looking for a casus belli to seize the Straits in Turkey. In any event, why would Serbia yield her sovereignty to Russia and territory to Austria, rather than accept Austria's lesser demands?
Update II: So, I did finish the book. I can't really suggest that anyone else do so. McMeekin has no discernable professional experience outside of the writing and teaching of history, which is to say he is out of depth writing about politics, let alone diplomacy and military affairs, as he does repeatedly in July 1914: Countdown to War.
The real kicker is his Epilogue: The Question of Responsibility. First he absolves Germany and Austria on the grounds that their initial offensives (vs Belgium and Serbia) were so poorly coordinated with each other as to prove the states could not have premeditated such a war. I respond that planning can easily include bad and incomplete planning.
He then faults Germany for attacking through Belgium, and assumes that since the "Schlieffen Plan" failed to knock France out of of the war while bringing Britain in, that it could not have possibly worked. McMeekin ends his narrative on August 4th, with the commencement of hostilities. So he ignores that the key fault with the German plan of attack in 1914 is that it required France to repeat the errors of 1870 by engaging in a decisive battle too far forward. The fault is magnified by a much larger French army than in 1905, when the German plans were first drawn up. (McMeekin also entirely ignores the existence of multiple war plans.)
McMeekin doesn't stop there. At the very end, with no foundation or analysis, he asserts: "As indicated by their earlier mobilizations (especially Russia's), in 1914 France and Russia were far more eager to fight than Germany ...." To argue that the time of mobilization indicates which countries are to bear the guilt of war, requires more than mere assertion. McMeekin's story assumes that the leaders of 1914 had neither intelligence (smarts) nor intelligence (information). The leaders of Germany, France and Russia all knew that Germany could mobilize the fastest of the three, Russia the slowest. All assumed (wrongly, but unanimously) that interstate war in 1914 would move at the pace of Prussia's wars in 1864, 1866 and 1870 - and that a failure to deploy reserves would allow an opponent to deliver a knock-out blow in the opening weeks. Once war appeared inevitable, Russia had to mobilize first, given its vast size and backward (if improving) rail system. Germany's interior lines and highly efficient rail and military staff system allowed it to decide and go last. McMeekin earlier notes that the political leadership in all three countries were hesitant to declare mobilization. But in the Epilogue he only recalls the hesitations of Germany's political leaders.
Did Russia and Germany make political and diplomatic errors in July 1914. Absolutely. So did all the other European states. Did Germany have grandiose war aims? Absolutely. So did other combatants - and Japan, Serbia, France, Italy all attained much of theirs. McMeekin's account is unsatisfying, incomplete, and unsatisfactory.
As to why Belgrade refused the ultimatum: clearly, the Serbs did not expect such a ruinous war. Presumably they expected the head of Hungarian government, Count Tisza, to check the rush to war, or some other intervention to halt Vienna's military involvement in the Balkans, as happened in 1912 and 1913 during the First and Second Balkan Wars.
Update I: A few chapters later (the book is arranged chronologically), McMeekin asserts that Serbia rejected the ultimatum on the direction of Russia, who also instructed Serbia to not defend Belgrade from the Austrian army. This appears to be part and parcel of McMeekin's thesis that Tsarist Russia bears the "war guilt" for 1914 (not Germany), and Russia was looking for a casus belli to seize the Straits in Turkey. In any event, why would Serbia yield her sovereignty to Russia and territory to Austria, rather than accept Austria's lesser demands?
Update II: So, I did finish the book. I can't really suggest that anyone else do so. McMeekin has no discernable professional experience outside of the writing and teaching of history, which is to say he is out of depth writing about politics, let alone diplomacy and military affairs, as he does repeatedly in July 1914: Countdown to War.
The real kicker is his Epilogue: The Question of Responsibility. First he absolves Germany and Austria on the grounds that their initial offensives (vs Belgium and Serbia) were so poorly coordinated with each other as to prove the states could not have premeditated such a war. I respond that planning can easily include bad and incomplete planning.
He then faults Germany for attacking through Belgium, and assumes that since the "Schlieffen Plan" failed to knock France out of of the war while bringing Britain in, that it could not have possibly worked. McMeekin ends his narrative on August 4th, with the commencement of hostilities. So he ignores that the key fault with the German plan of attack in 1914 is that it required France to repeat the errors of 1870 by engaging in a decisive battle too far forward. The fault is magnified by a much larger French army than in 1905, when the German plans were first drawn up. (McMeekin also entirely ignores the existence of multiple war plans.)
McMeekin doesn't stop there. At the very end, with no foundation or analysis, he asserts: "As indicated by their earlier mobilizations (especially Russia's), in 1914 France and Russia were far more eager to fight than Germany ...." To argue that the time of mobilization indicates which countries are to bear the guilt of war, requires more than mere assertion. McMeekin's story assumes that the leaders of 1914 had neither intelligence (smarts) nor intelligence (information). The leaders of Germany, France and Russia all knew that Germany could mobilize the fastest of the three, Russia the slowest. All assumed (wrongly, but unanimously) that interstate war in 1914 would move at the pace of Prussia's wars in 1864, 1866 and 1870 - and that a failure to deploy reserves would allow an opponent to deliver a knock-out blow in the opening weeks. Once war appeared inevitable, Russia had to mobilize first, given its vast size and backward (if improving) rail system. Germany's interior lines and highly efficient rail and military staff system allowed it to decide and go last. McMeekin earlier notes that the political leadership in all three countries were hesitant to declare mobilization. But in the Epilogue he only recalls the hesitations of Germany's political leaders.
Did Russia and Germany make political and diplomatic errors in July 1914. Absolutely. So did all the other European states. Did Germany have grandiose war aims? Absolutely. So did other combatants - and Japan, Serbia, France, Italy all attained much of theirs. McMeekin's account is unsatisfying, incomplete, and unsatisfactory.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Mosby's Rangers, by Jeffry D. Wert. pub. 1990
Book published in 1990
A concise account of one of the most renowned units of the US Civil War, and certainly the most successful partisan unit of the South. Wert argues, with amble justification in his text, that the romantic image of the Rangers, "knights, dressed in plumed hats and red-lined capes," who "rode away barely scathed" (p. 292) was "very much different" from reality. Wert concludes that while Mosby and his men "earned a place among some of the finest guerilla warriors in history," they "neither prolonged the war in (Virginia), nor had they kept thousands of Union troops away from the front." (p. 293).
In reaching this conclusion, Wert covers the actions of the Rangers in detail: who they were, individual actions, their hosts and opponents. The Rangers' targets were isolated outposts and under-guarded wagon trains - their early capture of a Union general in his bedclothes on a late winter's night was an anomaly - glorious, but not their typical fare. Like many insurgents, the Rangers struck at weak targets, using superior knowledge of the countryside to approach their target and then disperse, relying on the hospitality of locals to feed and house themselves and their mounts; the actions of the occupying army only served to encourage their hosts, until in late 1864, the Union army began to burn out the "seccesh", civilian and armed alike, by root and branch. For Mosby and his men, success or defeat would not come at their hands, but depending on whether the North tired of the conflict before gathering the strength to crush it.
Wert's comprehensive account of Mosby and the Rangers is exhaustive, almost exhausting, in its detail. A worthy addition to a Civil War bookshelf, Wert's volume neither glorifies nor detracts from Mosby's record, but sets it out cleanly and plainly.
A concise account of one of the most renowned units of the US Civil War, and certainly the most successful partisan unit of the South. Wert argues, with amble justification in his text, that the romantic image of the Rangers, "knights, dressed in plumed hats and red-lined capes," who "rode away barely scathed" (p. 292) was "very much different" from reality. Wert concludes that while Mosby and his men "earned a place among some of the finest guerilla warriors in history," they "neither prolonged the war in (Virginia), nor had they kept thousands of Union troops away from the front." (p. 293).
In reaching this conclusion, Wert covers the actions of the Rangers in detail: who they were, individual actions, their hosts and opponents. The Rangers' targets were isolated outposts and under-guarded wagon trains - their early capture of a Union general in his bedclothes on a late winter's night was an anomaly - glorious, but not their typical fare. Like many insurgents, the Rangers struck at weak targets, using superior knowledge of the countryside to approach their target and then disperse, relying on the hospitality of locals to feed and house themselves and their mounts; the actions of the occupying army only served to encourage their hosts, until in late 1864, the Union army began to burn out the "seccesh", civilian and armed alike, by root and branch. For Mosby and his men, success or defeat would not come at their hands, but depending on whether the North tired of the conflict before gathering the strength to crush it.
Wert's comprehensive account of Mosby and the Rangers is exhaustive, almost exhausting, in its detail. A worthy addition to a Civil War bookshelf, Wert's volume neither glorifies nor detracts from Mosby's record, but sets it out cleanly and plainly.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
(Some of) The Real Waste in the DoD Budget
John McCain sent me a letter on behalf of "Citizens Against Government Waste," claiming that the world's largest military is being "hollowed out" by waste. The "survey" asks which of five (piddling) expenditures I would eliminate. I'd add three others to his list: The V-22 Osprey (which costs more and crashes more than the helicopter its supposed to replace), the F-35 (ditto) - and congressional delegation (CODEL) flights on military aircraft, which cost $10,000 an hour to run and simply don't go anywhere not serviced by commercial and charter aircraft. Oh, and we have too many nukes, too - and that costs more billions.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Book review: Montgomery as Military Commander
Montgomery as Military Commander
Author: Ronald Lewin. For many, Montgomery is to the UK and the Royal Army what Patton is to the US and the American Army: the finest military commander in World War II. Yet, American evaluations of Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery are generally dismissive, if not scathing. Lewin, who served under Montgomery in North Africa and NW Europe, appraises his former superior's service impassionately, examining both his merits and flaws.
For merits, Montgomery scores high on his ability to defeat the Germans while conserving rapidly dwindling British manpower. Clearly, Montgomery's battlefield and staff experience in World War One plays a key role here. It would have been useful, however, if Lewin had made a statistical comparison between Montgomery and other British and Allied leaders. As it is, I was left wondering if Montgomery was more parsimonious with lives than his Allied contemporaries.
Lewin also credits Montgomery with playing THE key role in restructuring Overlord, the D-Day invasion of Normandy. Lewin notes that Montgomery's predecessor as chief planner for the invasion operated under strict shipping limits, constraining the initial landing to three divisions, a limit promptly (and properly) raised to five (plus three airborne) by Montgomery. But, again a question arises: Wouldn't any commander have sought the extra divisions? The key was that Churchill listed to Montgomery, since he had won at El Alamein.
Ah, El Alamein. Lewin describes Montgomery's exacting planning to ensure the first notable British land victory against Germany in WW2, while noting Montgomery's failure to plan for the expected exploitation of the breakthrough. It doesn't appear Lewin even considered whether the battle was necessary at all, in light of the Operation Torch landings in NW North Africa which would have likely compelled Rommel's retreat in any event.
I agree with Lewin that criticism over Montgomery for the "failure" of the July 1944 Operation Goodwood, east of Caen in Normandy, is misplaced. Goodwood was designed to pin down the vast bulk of German armor, a role the Brits and Canadians had played since June 6, to free the way for Bradley and Patton's right hook - Operation Cobra. Lewin implicitly notes that Montgomery drew some of the criticism for overselling the results, however. Lewin blithely skips over Montgomery's failure to close the Falaise Gap, allowing the German Army to escape - and criticizes Patton for his eagerness to charge from the south if Montgomery won't close from the north.
The worst case of Montgomery overselling his efforts came after the Battle of the Bulge, when he took far too much credit for stopping the last German offensive in the west. A senior general in an Allied fight should watch his words. He certainly shouldn't need his Prime Minister to cover for him, or prompt his superior (Ike in this case) to start writing a letter: "Either he goes or I do."
Lewin briefly but accurately faults Montgomery for failing to clear the approaches to Antwerp and Rotterdam promptly, leaving the largest port complex in NW Europe closed to allied shipping for three months. But, foreshadowing his later argument, Lewin also spreads blame to Montgomery's boss, Ike.
Lewin is excessively apologetic, even deceptive, in blaming almost everyone else for Montgomery's most glaring mistake: Operation Market-Garden. It's Ike's fault for not diverting supplies from Patton. It's Patton fault for "stealing" supplies. It's the fault of the RAF for not dropping the 1st Airborne directly on the Rhine bridge at Arnhem. It's the 1st Airborne's commander's fault for not challenging the RAF. It's the US Army's fault, for not drawing off enough German forces from Montgomery's advance. UK XXX Corps was not handled properly. Only three actors are excused: the US 82nd and 101st airborne divisions; allied intelligence's "pardonable error" in missing TWO German panzer divisions on the drop zones (?!?) ; and Montgomery himself. Lewin calls Market-Garden "a tactical mistake" (emphasis in original). In my view, you can't, as Lewin does, credit a general for daring and dash if he wastes the efforts of his men. Market-Garden wasn't so much a tactical mistake as bad planning of a bad concept. And that lies, entirely, at Montgomery's feet.
Lewin covers Montgomery's interwar service as well, highlighting his laudable service in educating and mentoring junior officers.
In conclusion, what I draw from Lewin's useful account is that Montgomery was a fine divisional commander, would have functioned well as a battlefield corps commander (a role he never had), but was out of his depth at the Army and Army Group level. But that perhaps the UK had no one else who could have functioned even as well as Montgomery at those rarefied heights. Thankfully, we had Eisenhower, Bradley, and Patton.
Author: Ronald Lewin. For many, Montgomery is to the UK and the Royal Army what Patton is to the US and the American Army: the finest military commander in World War II. Yet, American evaluations of Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery are generally dismissive, if not scathing. Lewin, who served under Montgomery in North Africa and NW Europe, appraises his former superior's service impassionately, examining both his merits and flaws.
For merits, Montgomery scores high on his ability to defeat the Germans while conserving rapidly dwindling British manpower. Clearly, Montgomery's battlefield and staff experience in World War One plays a key role here. It would have been useful, however, if Lewin had made a statistical comparison between Montgomery and other British and Allied leaders. As it is, I was left wondering if Montgomery was more parsimonious with lives than his Allied contemporaries.
Lewin also credits Montgomery with playing THE key role in restructuring Overlord, the D-Day invasion of Normandy. Lewin notes that Montgomery's predecessor as chief planner for the invasion operated under strict shipping limits, constraining the initial landing to three divisions, a limit promptly (and properly) raised to five (plus three airborne) by Montgomery. But, again a question arises: Wouldn't any commander have sought the extra divisions? The key was that Churchill listed to Montgomery, since he had won at El Alamein.
Ah, El Alamein. Lewin describes Montgomery's exacting planning to ensure the first notable British land victory against Germany in WW2, while noting Montgomery's failure to plan for the expected exploitation of the breakthrough. It doesn't appear Lewin even considered whether the battle was necessary at all, in light of the Operation Torch landings in NW North Africa which would have likely compelled Rommel's retreat in any event.
I agree with Lewin that criticism over Montgomery for the "failure" of the July 1944 Operation Goodwood, east of Caen in Normandy, is misplaced. Goodwood was designed to pin down the vast bulk of German armor, a role the Brits and Canadians had played since June 6, to free the way for Bradley and Patton's right hook - Operation Cobra. Lewin implicitly notes that Montgomery drew some of the criticism for overselling the results, however. Lewin blithely skips over Montgomery's failure to close the Falaise Gap, allowing the German Army to escape - and criticizes Patton for his eagerness to charge from the south if Montgomery won't close from the north.
The worst case of Montgomery overselling his efforts came after the Battle of the Bulge, when he took far too much credit for stopping the last German offensive in the west. A senior general in an Allied fight should watch his words. He certainly shouldn't need his Prime Minister to cover for him, or prompt his superior (Ike in this case) to start writing a letter: "Either he goes or I do."
Lewin briefly but accurately faults Montgomery for failing to clear the approaches to Antwerp and Rotterdam promptly, leaving the largest port complex in NW Europe closed to allied shipping for three months. But, foreshadowing his later argument, Lewin also spreads blame to Montgomery's boss, Ike.
Lewin is excessively apologetic, even deceptive, in blaming almost everyone else for Montgomery's most glaring mistake: Operation Market-Garden. It's Ike's fault for not diverting supplies from Patton. It's Patton fault for "stealing" supplies. It's the fault of the RAF for not dropping the 1st Airborne directly on the Rhine bridge at Arnhem. It's the 1st Airborne's commander's fault for not challenging the RAF. It's the US Army's fault, for not drawing off enough German forces from Montgomery's advance. UK XXX Corps was not handled properly. Only three actors are excused: the US 82nd and 101st airborne divisions; allied intelligence's "pardonable error" in missing TWO German panzer divisions on the drop zones (?!?) ; and Montgomery himself. Lewin calls Market-Garden "a tactical mistake" (emphasis in original). In my view, you can't, as Lewin does, credit a general for daring and dash if he wastes the efforts of his men. Market-Garden wasn't so much a tactical mistake as bad planning of a bad concept. And that lies, entirely, at Montgomery's feet.
Lewin covers Montgomery's interwar service as well, highlighting his laudable service in educating and mentoring junior officers.
In conclusion, what I draw from Lewin's useful account is that Montgomery was a fine divisional commander, would have functioned well as a battlefield corps commander (a role he never had), but was out of his depth at the Army and Army Group level. But that perhaps the UK had no one else who could have functioned even as well as Montgomery at those rarefied heights. Thankfully, we had Eisenhower, Bradley, and Patton.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Fun and Games with the Serbian Police
So, a few Decembers ago (2006), Tessa and I were returning to Montenegro when our flight was diverted from Belgrade to Nish, in southern Serbia, due to heavy fog. More than a few tales hang on that, but today's concerns the nine-hour taxi ride home in the middle of the night through Serbia and into Montenegro, across mountains on narrow two-lane roads through numerous little towns.
Usually, local cops leave diplomats alone on the highways - no upside, and your superiors may get upset that you were bothering someone who a) you can't ticket or arrest anyway; and b) has an in with the Minister of the Interior (equivalent to a US Attorney General). And since diplomats' cars have very distinctive diplomatic plates, ignorance ("I didn't know he was a diplomat") is no excuse.
Usually.
It's different when you are riding in an ordinary Ford Mondeo taxi. And it's the middle of the night, And the traffic cops are bored out of their minds with no traffic to flag over (well, wave a "lollypop"* at). But an ordinary taxi? Hey, cops don't need (to make up) a reason to stop a car in the Balkans (or most of Europe) - no Fourth Amendment.
So, we got waved over, asked for IDs: the driver shows his license, and we pull out diplomatic passports, with entry stamps and residence visas. All is good, so after a couple of minutes, we're rolling.
And get stopped 20 minutes later, next small town, same drill.
And again 20 minutes after that. This time the cop (who I figure was let into the fun little game of "let's harass the American diplomat while pretending it's all coincidence" after a radio call from the previous stops) wants to see our luggage, "since the stamps say you just flew into Serbia from France, you must have luggage." Ok, says I, but I want to watch your search (to make sure the cop neither adds nor subtracts from what's there). He agrees.
Recall the taxi is Ford Mondeo, a mid-size hatchback I've never ridden in before (it's not sold in the US). It's about 1 am, we've been riding for about four hours in the taxi, we got up about 6 am the previous day - tired, and just want to go home to Podgorica. Not play games with bored Serbian cops in the cold alongside a highway somewhere near Raska (I think), not far from Kosovo.
I look into the hatch alongside the cop, pick my head up - and slam it into the edge of the hatch. Blood instantly pours off my scalp, onto to my face, into my eyes, cakes in my beard. (Scalp wounds LOOK nasty as heck.) The cop hears the thud, looks at me - even in the dim light of the street lamp, he goes pale. "Uh-oh. Even if I can defend the stop as random, I don't think I can defend injuring or killing a foreign diplomat. Not even an American." Or at least - "think of the paperwork!" The cop quickly - very quickly - lets us go.
And for the rest of the way to the border, another 90 minutes or so - not a single bored cop flags us over to lighten his night. And border immigration and customs waves us through, post-haste.
* See, e.g., http://italianintrigues.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-lollipop-guild.html
Usually, local cops leave diplomats alone on the highways - no upside, and your superiors may get upset that you were bothering someone who a) you can't ticket or arrest anyway; and b) has an in with the Minister of the Interior (equivalent to a US Attorney General). And since diplomats' cars have very distinctive diplomatic plates, ignorance ("I didn't know he was a diplomat") is no excuse.
Usually.
It's different when you are riding in an ordinary Ford Mondeo taxi. And it's the middle of the night, And the traffic cops are bored out of their minds with no traffic to flag over (well, wave a "lollypop"* at). But an ordinary taxi? Hey, cops don't need (to make up) a reason to stop a car in the Balkans (or most of Europe) - no Fourth Amendment.
So, we got waved over, asked for IDs: the driver shows his license, and we pull out diplomatic passports, with entry stamps and residence visas. All is good, so after a couple of minutes, we're rolling.
And get stopped 20 minutes later, next small town, same drill.
And again 20 minutes after that. This time the cop (who I figure was let into the fun little game of "let's harass the American diplomat while pretending it's all coincidence" after a radio call from the previous stops) wants to see our luggage, "since the stamps say you just flew into Serbia from France, you must have luggage." Ok, says I, but I want to watch your search (to make sure the cop neither adds nor subtracts from what's there). He agrees.
Recall the taxi is Ford Mondeo, a mid-size hatchback I've never ridden in before (it's not sold in the US). It's about 1 am, we've been riding for about four hours in the taxi, we got up about 6 am the previous day - tired, and just want to go home to Podgorica. Not play games with bored Serbian cops in the cold alongside a highway somewhere near Raska (I think), not far from Kosovo.
I look into the hatch alongside the cop, pick my head up - and slam it into the edge of the hatch. Blood instantly pours off my scalp, onto to my face, into my eyes, cakes in my beard. (Scalp wounds LOOK nasty as heck.) The cop hears the thud, looks at me - even in the dim light of the street lamp, he goes pale. "Uh-oh. Even if I can defend the stop as random, I don't think I can defend injuring or killing a foreign diplomat. Not even an American." Or at least - "think of the paperwork!" The cop quickly - very quickly - lets us go.
And for the rest of the way to the border, another 90 minutes or so - not a single bored cop flags us over to lighten his night. And border immigration and customs waves us through, post-haste.
* See, e.g., http://italianintrigues.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-lollipop-guild.html
Monday, June 16, 2014
Book Review: The Atrocity Archives, by Charles Stross
This was the second book I've read by British SF/Fantasy author Charlie Stross, the first being The Family Trade. The Atrocity Archives has two stories, "The Atrocity Archives" and "The Concrete Jungle", both featuring darkside hacker Bob Howard and his (mis-)adventures in The Laundry, a super-secret UK agency struggling to hold back the Lovecraftian apocalypse.
The Atrocity Archives is a better effort by Stross than Family Trade, largely because the stories hang together better, and there are fewer moments where a discontinuity or mistake jarred me out of the text. Perhaps that's because Atrocity Archives posits multiple universes, not just two like Family Trade, and differences in larger policy and law can be ascribed to the central universe in the story not being this one.
Stross notes that one of his inspirations, besides the obvious one of H.P. Lovecraft (and if you haven't read Lovecraft, you will be confused by Atrocity Archives), is spy thriller master Len Deighton. The inspiration is clear; so clear, in fact, much as reading Lovecraft is a must before picking up this book, reading Deighton's spy fiction is a brief detour that I would highly recommend.
I have read a later Laundry story by Stross as well. His writing improves, in no small part because in the later story ("Equoid") Stross emphasizes the bureaucratic hurdles before his hero Bob Howard as much or more than the supernatural foe. It is the humor that Stross brings out in the absurdity of bureaucratic business-as-usual while attending to the urgent business of throwing back the forces of darkness that sets The Laundry apart from the usual spy or horror tale.
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