The Heroic Age of Diving: America’s Underwater Pioneers and the Great Wrecks of Lake Erie

Jerry Kuntz

In his work, The Heroic Age of Diving: America’s Underwater Pioneers and the Great Wrecks of Lake Erie, Jerry Kuntz focuses on the evolution of diving in the United States from 1820-1891 with a particular focus on Lake Erie. He breaks the book into three main sections called The Pioneers (1820s-1852), The Heroic Age of Diving (July 1852-1856), and The Aftermath (1857-1891). Each section can be read on its own and stand-alone which is refreshing to see, but the reader receives the big picture through reading it in its entirety.

Kuntz begins his work by discussing William Hanis Taylor and the evolution of his invention of Submarine Armor. This Submarine Armor included a cylindrical helmet and had the arms, legs, and torso covered in protective hoops of plate metal. Upon administrative changes in the company, which left William’s brother George W. Taylor in charge of the company, George joined with the Goodyear Brothers’s India rubber business. This then led to the replacing of the plate metal hoops with flexible coils of copper, over which rubber trousers would be pulled. They also composed a case of copper “for the head and shoulders, with India rubber arms attached. In front [of the helmet] is a small glass about three inches in diameter, to enable the operator to distinguish objects in the water.” These changes gave the diver more freedom to see and move around. The book moves on to discuss various wrecks that occurred on Lake Erie and the efforts involved to recover them.

Of particular interest to Kuntz are the recovery efforts of the wrecks as he argues that the salvage voyages were instrumental in the development of diving equipment because of the trial and error the divers faced below the surface. For example, during the salvage of the steamer, The Erie, divers confronted many challenges such as high winds, the depth of the wreck, and equipment breaking. The book continues on to investigate pearl diving, submarines during the Civil War, and even describes an expedition to kill a monster in Silver Lake, New York. Each topic is interesting in its own right and is well presented. It is an excellent example of a popular history and who does not like a story about salvaging and searching for treasure?

Kuntz begins the book acknowledging that he is neither a diver nor a naval historian, thus he frequently relied on other’s experience and expertise. He says he did this by approaching thirty-nine people who have knowledge and expertise of the subject to gain knowledge for this book.Kuntz also consulted a number of period newspaper articles, letters, and personal writings by some of the diver’s themselves such as Diving or, Submarine Explorations: Being the Life and Adventures of J. B. Green. Kuntz also uses some less reliable sources, such as Ancestry.com

To conclude, the book is an interesting read, but it is likely to be better used as a good jumping off point for further research and not as concrete fact. It is more geared towards the general public who enjoy popular history as it lacks some scholarly detail, but flows well and is an enjoyable read.

Reviewed by Ashley M. Thomas, University of West Florida

Polaris: The Chief Scientist’s Recollections of the American North Pole Expedition, 1871-73

Translated & edited by William Barr

Arctic exploration has been marred with tragedy since much before the voyage made by Polarisin 1871. In the spirit of exploration, fear of misfortune was cast aside and Captain George Hall persuaded the United States Government to fund an expedition to the North once more. German scientist Emil Bessels joined this expedition as chief scientist and medical officer with hopes of expanding the knowledge found in previous expeditions.Polarissuffered its fair share of problems. In Polaris: The Chief Scientist’s recollections of the American North Pole Expedition. 1871-73, Bessels provided an extensive account of the expedition. He includes details of flora, fauna, geology, and even anthropological observations of the Inuit that are not found in any other account. William Barr translates this account to English for the first time, adding his own expertise to the story.

Bessels provides information specific to the history of the Polaris’journey and those that preceded it. To create a cohesive narrative, he uses sources from his fellow crew members to fill in missing information. When writing from his own memory, Bessels paints a beautiful picture which allows a peek at his otherwise absent personal feelings. As a scientist, the author provides extraordinary detail to discoveries made in the frozen North which are not present in other accounts.

Bessels’ style of writing is interesting because it can be very vague or beautifully detailed depending on his emotion toward a subject. Due to this fluctuating nature, sometimes transitions between topics can seem rather abrupt. Often, details are simply absent. For example, Bessels is surrounded in controversy over the sudden death of Hall, the medic who aided him. As the accused, it seems reasonable that he would have details surrounding the mystery. Unfortunately, the fog surrounding the events of Hall’s death are not cleared within this account. It may seem slightly suspect that he omitted these details but, as a scientist, Bessels tries to write a narrative unimpeded by drama.

Barr has done a fantastic job of translating this account. The footnotes provided by Barr help to clarify details a modern or lay reader may not understand. A complaint could be made about bias introduced in some of Barr’s comments. Examples of this can be found in various footnotes added by Barr as well as well as in the Preface.

Emil Bessels is not widely remembered for his scientific achievements. That is unfortunate as the passion that he had for this journey is indisputable in his writing. Bessels, assisted by Barr, provides an account not to be missed by those fascinated with the voyage made byPolaris.

Reviewed by Teresa Ellen Will, East Carolina University

Priestley’s Progress: The Life of Sir Raymond Priestley, Antarctic Explorer, Scientist, Soldier, Academician

Mike Bullock

Priestley’s Progress, by Mike Bullock, is an examination of Sir Raymond Priestley’s eclectic life, from his early childhood to numerous expeditions and World War I service, all lending to life examples he brought to his teachings throughout his academic career. Targeted towards academics, explorers, and historians, Bullock presents the book in a chronological context that aims to provide examples of the impact made by Priestley in the areas of exploration, science, and academia during the early twentieth century.

Born in Tewkesbury, England in 1886, Raymond Priestly grew up amongst many siblings with educated parents, his father being a headmaster. Striving towards a similar goal, Priestley attended University College, Bristol during which he was sought after by Sir Ernest Shackleton, an explorer based in London. With some hesitation, Priestley agreed and began his career as an Antarctic explorer, during which time he would have many life endangering experiences full of adventure and excitement. From 1907 to 1909, Raymond Priestley traveled on Nimrod, studying geographical features of the Antarctic. During this exploration, the crew was plagued by lack of food, extreme temperatures, and loss of navigation, making their goal of reaching the pole an initial failure. In 1910, Priestley began his second exploration, this time aboard Terra Novaalongside Robert Scott, and was met by many more successes.

Priestley also had accomplishments during his military career. Entering World War I in the British Army Signal Service, Priestley joined the Cambridge University Officers Training Corps in 1913. Here, he utilized the first wireless telegraph set to communicate until the end of his career in 1919, during which he was presented with a Military Cross for gallantry. After the war, Priestley returned to London and began a more narrowed focus on academia, teaching at Cambridge, Melbourne, and Birmingham; however, the passion for exploration ignited once again during his retirement. Priestley traveled on Wyandotwith the Duke of Edinburgh for the American Deep Freeze IV Expedition in 1958 and his work there nominated him to become the President of the Royal Geographic Society. Priestly passed away of natural causes on June 24, 1974 at the age of eighty-eight.

Bullock’s biographical depiction of Priestley’s life is one of the first representations of this extraordinary man and his achievements.Priestley’s Progress presents a chronological outline of this explorer’s life, while Bullock condenses vast knowledge into a format that both informs readers and provokes curiosity for further detail. While the overall timeline is impressive, the book is filled with short descriptions of events and sporadic reminders of dates, time frames, and ages for Priestley during his adventures. Furthermore, the Preface references accounts and direct testimonies made by friends and family that would lend immensely to the appeal of a biographical work, yet citations remain sparse throughout the text and leave readers wanting to know more of the background story to Priestley’s accomplishments.

Overall, Bullock offers a biographical exploration of Raymond Priestley that encompasses his full lifetime in a concise manner. The book is enjoyable and thought provoking, and may well encourage readers to seekadditional material on both Priestly and the exploration of Antarctica. 

Hornblower’s Historical Shipmates: The Young Gentlemen of Pellew’s Indefatigable

Heather Noel-Smith & Lorna M. Campbell

In Heather Noel- Smith and Lorna Campbell’s work Hornblower’s Historical Shipmates: The Young Gentlemen of Pellew’s Indefatigable the reader is presented with a detailed history of Captain Sir Edward Pellew’s rise through the ranks. The authors also provide brief, but detailed, summaries of seventeen of Pellew’s midshipmen who worked under him during his successful career. The authors take great care to present their audience with personable and accurate descriptions of the crew members. They depict both Pellew and his shipmates in such a way that the reader feels like they know the men and are also familiar with the culture and atmosphere of the ship at large. This is a credit to the comprehensive research and writing style of the authors.

The authors’ extensive research is clear from the first page. Their in-depth use of both primary and secondary sources gives the reader a clear picture of life, across ranks, in the British Royal Navy in the late 1700s and early 1800s. Noel- Smith and Campbell include excerpts from some of Pellew’s personal correspondence throughout his life-time including his time in the Navy, passages from his journals and naval documents attached to Captain Sir Edward Pellew during his time in the service.

The book presents a well-balanced and comprehensive study of Edward Pellew, not omitting the less savory aspects of his character, nor over embellishing his accomplishments. For example, the authors acknowledge how Pellew and his wife Susan Frowd Pellew went above and beyond supporting emotionally, physically and sometimes even financially, many different young men from all different stations of life. At the same time, they show how Pellew put the agenda of his sons, Pownoll and Fleetwood, ahead of the good of those serving the British Royal Navy under Pownoll and Fleetwood when he promoted both of them into positions for which they were not the best candidate. In the first chapter, they claim that Pellew is both a “partisan and patriarch” and do a brilliant job showing how these two rivaling terms describe the complex man and exceptional frigate Captain Sir Edward Pellew.

Hornblowers Historical Shipmates: The Young Gentlemen of Pellew’s Indefatigable takes the reader on a unique journey where they meet not only high-ranking officials of the famous Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, but also gain access to the daily routine of the nineteenth century mid shipmen. The reader will walk away with a comprehensive view of the sailor’s devotion to their nation and their strong ties to their crew and leaders. Pellew is shown to be a flawed man, but also a relatable human being in that he was a man who felt it was his duty not only to protect his crew, but also to help them develop into mature and reliable young men who would represent their crew, family and nation. The reader is able to see how Pellew’s humble beginning and early tragedies helped him to develop into a leader who was respected and loved by his crew.

Reviewed by Jane H. Plummer, University of West Florida

British Expeditionary Warfare and the Defeat of Napoleon, 1793-1815

Robert K. Sutcliffe

The campaigns against France during the Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars were massive undertakings that required cooperation between disparate nations to achieve ultimate victory. Historians have written volumes about the various military, diplomatic, and economic endeavors required to build international coalitions and conduct military operations to face Napoleon’s martial machine. Britain’s efforts in these actions were crucial to the overall success of the coalition forces that finally brought Napoleon to heel at Waterloo. The way this was accomplished went far beyond military planning; it also required colossal logistical coordination. In British Expeditionary Warfare and the Defeat of Napoleon, 1793-1815, Robert K. Sutcliffe seeks to explain the seldom praised, behind the scenes efforts of the British military and governmental committees to coordinate the deployment and supply of the armies of Britain and its partners (in Europe and beyond) during the decades long conflict. Sutcliffe posits that these logistical efforts, despite many obstacles and setbacks, played just as much of a role as the battles themselves in securing the downfall of the man who sought to be Emperor of the World.

The majority of Sutcliffe’s work deals with the role of Britain’s Transport Board in securing the shipping necessary to facilitate the movement of the tremendous amount of manpower and supplies necessary to sustain Britain and its allies in the field. He utilizes substantial primary source material—Parliamentary papers, organizational logs and records, committee reports, and official correspondence—to build his case of not only the scale and scope of the Board’s efforts, but the many bureaucratic and economic challenges, as well as the frequent official pushback that the Board faced in accomplishing its daunting missions. Often on short notice, faced with government and military officials who regularly planned operations of a scale that were seemingly impossible to achieve and that seldom fully understood the logistics involved, and obliged to attempt to balance the needs of the British economy with its military needs and the needs and wishes of the owners of the merchant vessels that formed the backbone of the transport fleet, the success of the Board in most of its missions is a testament to its organization and management.

The text is filled with a dizzying array of numbers, tables, and charts that convey the immensity of the logistics involved but, coupled with Sutcliffe’s dry and matter of fact prose style, it often reads as bland as the official documents from which it is derived. There are a few moments where he is able to build excitement and drama into his prose, such as his descriptions of the British Navy’s landings in Egypt in 1801 and the campaigns along the Tagus River in Portugal during the Peninsular War, but these are few and far between. Nevertheless, British Expeditionary Warfare does indeed fill a gap in the literature of Britain’s role in the Napoleonic wars and significantly contributes to a more complete historical picture of the era.

Ice Ghosts: The Epic Hunt for the Lost Franklin Expedition
Paul Watson

In Ice Ghosts: The Epic Hunt for the Lost Franklin Expedition, Paul Watson revisits Sir John Franklin’s 1845 expedition to complete a Northwest Passage through the Arctic on the ships, Erebus and Terror, with a complement of 129 men. The well-equipped voyage disappeared into the arctic landscape and despite one of the largest international search and rescue efforts in history, few traces were ever recovered. The fate of the Franklin expedition captivated people across the Victorian world and with the discovery of the expedition’s ships Erebus and Terror in 2014 and 2016, the Franklin saga was again thrust into the limelight. Watson’s book presents the next chapter in the Franklin story.

Watson arranges his narrative chronologically while assessing historic and contemporary search efforts, archaeological research, and Inuit oral history regarding the expedition’s disappearance. The first half of the book describes the Victorian era and the circumstances and history of the Franklin Expedition, its loss, and subsequent search efforts. Watson weaves an epic “rich with the timeless contradictions of the human condition” (xxxi). In the second half of the book, he combines ethnography, Inuit ethnohistory, and historical archaeology to carry the reader beyond what is known historically, into the present day. Watson’s narrative credits the work of Louie Kamookak, a self-trained Inuit historian, as well as myriad scientists, researchers, and benefactors, whose devotion to solving the Franklin mystery led to the relocation of the expedition’s lost ships. Watson, a Pulitzer Prize winning Canadian photojournalist, was a member of the 2014 Victoria Strait Expedition launched by the Canadian government in a renewed effort to discover the lost Franklin ships along with any information on the fate of the expedition’s participants.

 The volume is an enjoyable read for Franklin scholars and general readers alike, not overly technical, while expanding upon the history as well as current scientific research. Watson’s discussion of previous underwater archaeological work in the region stresses the importance of preservation and conservation for research agendas. He makes an important and powerful argument for the value of provenance and systematic excavation. Focusing on the 1980 rediscovery of the Breadalbane, a Franklin era support vessel lost to the ice, Watson recounts the removal of the ship’s wheel and accentuates the methodological undercurrents of the contemporary historical and archaeological work being conducted in the region.

A popular rather than scholarly book, Watson emphasizes the contributions of Inuit ethnohistory, but makes no mention of recent ethnographic work by scholars such as Dorothy Harley Eber, whose important volume Encounters on the Passage: Inuit Meet the Explorers was published in 2008. Additionally, Watson mentions numerous locations in the text that are not depicted on the maps he provides, making it challenging for readers new to the Franklin saga to follow the movements of not only the Franklin expeditionaries, but also the modern-day search efforts. Despite these minor shortcomings, Watson’s tale of interconnectedness, across space, time, and cultures, as well as scientific disciplines and governmental agencies is a valuable contribution to the literature of the Franklin Expedition.

The Gun Club: U.S.S. Duncan at Cape Esperance

Robert Fowler

The Gun Club tells the story of USS Duncan, a short-lived Gleaves-class destroyer that participated and sank in the first planned naval action of World War II. The author’s father, the late Lieutenant (junior grade) Robert Fowler III, was a reserve officer called into action following Pearl Harbor to serve aboard Duncan. By uncovering the real events that led to Duncan’s sinking, the book seems to be an effort to do justice to the memory of Lt. Fowler and the nearly sixty other sailors who lost their lives. Fowler describes the battle as a rude awakening for the United States Navy, which had not planned and executed a large naval battle in the forty-four years leading to Cape Esperance. In his opinion, despite officers’ planning and war-gaming, the ships, commanders, and tactics of the United States Navy in early World War II were inadequate and unprepared.

The titular “Gun Club” refers to a group of Naval Academy graduates who, by 1942, were captains and admirals eager for their first taste of action and glory. The combination of their overzealous attitude and inexperience resulted in the sinking of Duncan. Following the sinking, the Navy’s culture of protecting fellow officers resulted in carefully crafted reports that avoided laying blame for any errors in judgment and obscured the facts of the engagement.

Fowler uses the Duncan’s logs, personal communications, and interviews with surviving crew members to reconstruct the real timeline. The book describes everything from pre-commissioning details in New Jersey to the fateful battle near Guadalcanal only ten months later and the survivors’ return home. The result is a very detailed picture of life aboard the ship. From raunchy snippets of sailors at liberty, to grisly descriptions of battle, Fowler has clearly done his research. Fowler reconstructs scenes and dialogue in ways that are far more engaging and interesting than simple description of events. The maps and diagrams of fleet maneuvers are invaluable for understanding the complicated course of events that led to Duncan coming under a barrage of friendly fire. According to Fowler and other historians, the sinking of Duncan is primarily attributed to that friendly fire, though official reports obscure and avoid mentioning the topic. Fowler evaluates the motives and decisions that influenced the wording and content of those reports. He paints a picture of the politics and partisanship in naval command that has obscured the truth of the sinking of Duncan for so long. Fowler’s analysis of command failures and coverups is unsympathetic to the pressure the authors of those reports would have faced following the loss of a brand-new destroyer.

The Gun Club is a critical and well-researched investigation into the first planned naval action of World War II. It is a valuable source for those interested in the culture of naval command early in the war and the truth behind the loss of USS Duncan.

Reviewed by Kendra Lawrence, East Carolina University

A New History of Yachting

Mike Bender

Being neither a yachtsman or historian, it was with some apprehension that this amateur modeler and consumer of nautical lore took up this volume. As it covers the subject of “leisure sailing” as it evolved in the early United Kingdom and Ireland, it cannot but touch upon the many elements of historical significance such as economics, politics, social systems, technology and the usual wars. Most outstanding in this context is the persistence of the class system and “hierarchies of prestige” that follow yachting right up to our own era. It is, as Bender early on notes, the original sport of kings.

As a true history supported by some thirty-five pages of bibliography, the text is rich with extended quotations, enhanced by voluminous footnotes, some running to an enjoyable half page of additional facts and observations. Those of us not part of the Commonwealth would do well to have a good map or road atlas of Britain in hand. Those not familiar with yachting may also need to employ something like Royce’s Sailing Illustrated to fully understand references to the various classes and types of modern competitive racing boats. Discussions of power boats or yachts are not included. Also, this is history from the British point of view with only limited discussions of “goings on” from the American side of the pond.

For the modeler there appears to be little here. There are no plans, lines or diagrams. There are only two dozen photographs and of these, only three have to do with vessels for which models or kits are commercially available, those being America , Gypsy Moth IV and Spray. A survey of the bibliography reveals a name match for about each foot of shelf space in my personal nautical collection. The additional information on Phineas Pett should be of interest to more serious modelers and plans are certainly available for the numerous boats that comprise the “home built” dingy explosion that followed World War II.

Not unlike other histories Bender divides his text into sections divided by time and major events that effected them. He ends up with three “golden ages of yachting”. The industrial revolution creates new wealth and new yacht owners. The mass production of sheet plywood after World War II would create thousands of new yacht builders and owners. Oddly it was the development of railroads and the automobile on land bringing people to the shore that creates a demand for anchorages, marinas and yacht clubs.

Most glaring and lasting in this account is the existence of the yacht and the yacht club as both vehicle and emblem of social class. Charles II and his many “royal” yachts begins the process that marks the yacht and yacht club membership as emblematic of elite to this day. Bender pulls no punches here. He gives full accounting to blackballing and the exclusion of working sailors, and watermen of all types and anyone of a certain gender. No women were allowed to even row in the Henley regatta until 1981. With his concluding chapters. the author offers little for the future of yachting. Too little money and too little time for sailing in the future it seems. A New History of Yachting may be the final history of yachting, thus worth reading for even more than what it says about boats.

Reviewed by Dan Brummer, Stayton, Oregon

Sea Miner: Major E.B. Hunt’s Civil War Rocket Torpedo, 1862-1863

Chuck Veit

In the realm of Civil War naval history, academic writers have generally focused on big picture topics such as biographies of naval officers and general histories, for example, James McPherson’s War on the Waters and Craig Symonds’ The Civil War at Sea. However, if one digs deeper there has been much good work done on the fringes of naval warfare by either public historians or subject matter enthusiasts. Examples abound, from the histories of torpedo warfare by Milton Perry, W. Davis Waters, and Mike Kochan, to Mark Ragan’s research on Civil War submarine warfare. Much of this fine work, including the book under review here, is self-published. While that may make it more difficult to find, the search can be well worth the effort.

Chuck Veit’s Sea Miner: Major E.B. Hunt’s Civil War Rocket Torpedo, 1862-1863 is a fine example of excellent work being done in Civil War naval history. Veit is no stranger to unique and different topics, having published numerous books about Civil War history and having been keenly interested in the hunt for USS Alligator, the Union Navy’s little-known submarine. He is also a long-time living historian and President of the Navy & Marine Living History Association.

In Sea Miner, Veit brings to light a little-known and long-forgotten piece of naval history, the Union attempts to design and build a self-propelled underwater torpedo. Due to the paucity of resources—Major Hunt destroyed much of his own documentation to maintain secrecy—Veit admits that some of this story relies on speculation, conjecture, or just plain educated guessing. However, he has pieced together enough documentary evidence to produce a solid history of this project. The research is impressive; the amount of primary source material used is laudable considering how much must have been destroyed.

Not only does Veit show a strong grasp of the history of this project, he is able to convey the scientific and mathematical complexity of it without getting too bogged down. In fact, Chapter XI is the only chapter that reads more scientific than historical. Throughout the course of the book, Veit covers all the bases. He gives a solid biographical account of Hunt’s life, details previous efforts to design and build such weapons systems, gives a good overview of the Brooklyn Navy Yard where the project was housed, and conveys as full an accounting as possible of the Sea Miner project. He highlights the interplay and cooperation between the Army and Navy, as Hunt was on assignment from the Army to work on this project.

What emerges is not simply a history of the Sea Miner project, but a book that underscores the brilliant scientific mind of Hunt. The story is primary, while many of the scientific details are left to the appendices; this allows the story to flow without becoming overly technical. Veit does allow his regional bias to show, never using the term “Civil War” outside of the book’s title. He prefers the official period designation “War of the Rebellion,” but on occasions throughout the text uses “Slaveholder’s Rebellion” and “Slaveholder’s Revolt” as well. That might not endear him to diehard Confederate apologists, but it does not detract from his excellent work.

Reviewed by Andrew Duppstadt, North Carolina State Historic Sites

Playing War: Wargaming and U.S. Navy Preparations for World War II

John M. Lillard

John M. Lillard’s study of war games, aptly titled Playing War: Wargaming and U.S. Navy Preparations for World War II, dissects the players, game processes, and phases of wargaming during the interwar period. Wargaming proved to be a useful tool for the United States Navy in preparing for the naval battles of World War II. The wargames gave the Navy an upper hand, because they could predict movements of enemy ships based on the aforementioned games. In his attempt to prove if the war games and the Naval College had any historical agency, he delves into a previously under-explored topic. To prove his thesis, Lillard examines the impact of individual games and their players on the war effort, while also assessing the overall effects of wargaming through the inter-war period. Unlike historians such as Peter Perla and Michael Vlahos, Lillard reveals the significance of the war games to the development of technology and, ultimately, to the success of the United States Navy during World War II.

Lillard first breaks down the Naval War College’s strategies and their assessments into sections. Using an assortment of charts, graphs, and images to support his thesis Lillard delivers the most in-depth study of war gaming to date. Through Lillard’s research, he found that war games were necessary to teach decision-making skills, as well as develop technology to advance the Navy. He uses speeches, diaries, and official records from the inter-war period as a primary basis for his argument. The downfall to Lillard’s sources is the focus on popular figures, such as Admiral Chester Nimitz, and the lack of voices from enlisted personnel. He does assess the data from the graduating classes, such as the number and type. He also shows the different fictional opponents throughout the wargames and provides graphics to aid in understanding for those without a military background.

At times, Lillard’s argument seemed long-winded. The lack of representation by other scholars in reference to the war games could be because the argument can be summed up within a few pages. But, Lillard was able to redeem his work by providing stories that piqued the reader’s interest when facts became dull. His assessment of the early phase, from 1919 to 1927, is particularly interesting, especially when he delves into one of the later exercises in 1927. The class of 1927 worked through a game that focused on both land and sea objectives, with special situations thrown at them at every turn. The class had to adapt to changes given through the games, leading to further advancements in the games.

Because Lillard uses individual games, his monograph has a narrative quality, aiding the readability of his work. While this history would be more aptly used by a military historian, the narrative aspect and the clear visual aids allow anyone to enjoy Lillard’s book. He determines that the Naval War College deserves agency within the historical context of preparations for battle, which he sums up nicely in the conclusion. Playing War is a well-written, well-researched, and well-received monograph adding a new facet to military history and the study of naval advancements.