Ill Met By Moonlight - W Stanley Moss

 The wartime classic, Ill Met By Moonlight is built around the contemoraneous diary of Moss while he and the far better known Patrick Leigh Fermor went to Crete in 1944 to abduct the Nazi commanding the island, General Kreipe.

The reasons for the abduction are confused - Moss and Fermor have different memories of the plan's conception (during a high-spirited leave in Cairo).   Moss was an SOE newbie whereas Fermor had been leading the resistance on Crete for a couple of years.   The main point, in fact, was the sheer bravado of the exploit, guaranteed to dominate headlines around the world.   Personally, I suspect the Allied Command was delighted to stage a massive distraction in the Eastern Mediterranean while they prepared to land in Normandy two months later.

It is more like two weeks before D-Day when the raiders manage to get off the island with their captive (obviously they succeed; no one was going to publish a book about a wartime failure in 1950).  In the six or so weeks since Moss landed he and Fermor and their motley band of Cretans and Russians have survived many scapes and setbacks.   For the modern reader what stands out is the bravery of all parties, especially the locals who have most to lose and will have to face brutal reprisals.   Moss writes really well and this new edition is well put together, with extra material from Fermor, who wrote several books about his service on Crete.   Highly recommended.

Hornet Flight - Ken Follertt

 A story loosely based on fact, Hornet Flight is mainly set in Denmark.   Young Harald Olufsen is coming of age in a country bloodlessly annexed by the Nazis.   Most citizens accept the situation; some, of course, welcome it.   Teenagers like Harald get by with harmless jokes and pranks.

There is a fledgling resistance, run by MI6 through Hermia Mount, who lived in Denmark before the war and who is engaged to Harald's older brother, a flight instructor.  On the island where Harald lives the Nazis have built a secret base - indeed, Harald worked on it during his previous summer holiday.  Local workers were cleared away before the final installation took place, but Harald sometimes sneaks by on the shortcut home.

In Britain, Bomber Command is taking a hammering.   If they keep getting shot down at the present rate, they won't be able to help their new Russian allies by bombing Nazi targets in western Europe.   The British are about to deploy radar.  They wonder if the Nazis have developed something similar.  Is that, in fact, what the base on the island is doing?

With the a massive raid planned and only days away, Hermia is smuggled back to Denmark to contact her agents.   She reunites with Arne Olufsen and asks him to visit his home and look into the base there.  In doing so, he confides in Harald.   Another islander, Peter Flemming, is a police detective in Copenhagen, with an invalid wife, ambition, and a significant dislike of his former friend Arne.   If it furthers his ambition, Peter is perfectly happy to work with the Nazis.   The potential involvement of his rival is a bonus.

Harald, meanwhile, is expelled from school (thanks to Peter Flemming) and working oddjobs on a farm on the estate of his rich Jewish schoolfriend.   Harald finds an aged plane hidden in a barn - the Hornet of the title - and sets about repairing it.   Harald can fly a little, but his schoolfriend's sister, ballerina Karen Duchwitz, is fully trained.   Together, they plan to fly photos of the radio installation across to Britain.

Follett is as good as anyone at racking up the tension.   The flight itself is spellbinding.  Some of the secondary action, however, is poor.   There are a couple of unexpected deaths - I won't spoil the book for others by saying who dies - but the last one is poorly done, almost as if Follett has lost interest.  There is far too much coincidence at play and the book is far too long.   Length is always a problem and pointing to dispensible passages with an author as skilled as Follett is almost impossible.   I was never bored, yet I felt things were just moving too slowly.

The characters were fine,.   Follett, as he often does, has young adults as his leads.   This too is fine but these two, Harald and Karen, are too pre-skilled to be absolutely credible.   Arne is an excellent secondary protagonist.   Peter starts off convincingly conflicted but we - and, I fear, Follett - lose interest as his emnity to the Olufsen brothers mounts.   Hermia (sorry) is dull as dishwater.

Not classic Follett then, but still well worth reading.   I'm keen on trying his Century Trilogy.

Rivals of the Ripper - Jan Bondeson

 It has been a while since I indulged my addiction to Ripperology.  In that time the Swedish researcher Jan Bondeson has staked out a niche in the field for himself.   To begin with, Bondeson is much better qualified as a scientist and researcher than most others.   It might equally be a bonus that he is not British nor even a native speaker of English.   This enables him to cut through some significant swathes of nonsense.

Essentally Bondeson is fascinated by the odd and the extreme.   I am particularly attracted by his The Great Pretenders (2003).   In the meantime I found this, from 2016/   The title is a bit of cheat, really.   None of these murders have anything to do with Jack the Ripper; most of them are nowhere near his period of activity.   Some of the victims are full or part-time prostitutes but it is surely no surprise that sex workers have always been especially vulnerable.

The subtitle is exactly what the book is about: Unsolved murders of women in late Victorian London.   We have murders on trains, in old Euston, and even in a milk shop.   None of the perpetrators were ever caught though Bondeson makes a good case for them have being correctly identified by the police.   Few of the investigations can be criticised, although there is one by the City Police, which overlaps with some aspects of Ripperology, where those in charge were so utterly incompetent that the Square Mile would have been a lot safer had they been locked up.

Otherwise we have murderers who were plainly mad, undermining my pet theory that Victorian asylums were better than our contemporary mental health services.   On the other hand, Bondeson seems to endorse my other theory that mass transportation enabled predatory killers.

What I especially enjoyed about this book was the depth in which Bondeson scrutinises the evidence.   He is especially good at setting the scene, which in itself can be an important clue to what happened.   In one of my research projects I have unearthed the seamy side of Victorian Bloomsbury; Bondeson has done likewise.   I have learned much I didn't know.   I enjoyed the process.   I shall be on the lookout for more Bondeson.