Poland 1939: The Outbreak of World War II
by Roger Moorhouse
Basic Books, 2020

Originally published in its first U.K. edition as First to Fight: The Polish War 1939, Roger Moorhouse’s latest riveting history is now available in America with an unfortunately less evocative title, but still packing a punch, nonetheless. In Poland 1939: The Outbreak of World War II, Moorhouse depicts the events of September 1939 in gripping detail from the perspective of a proud country surrounded by enemies, abandoned by allies, and left to fight to its dying breath for survival.

Some might broach the not unreasonable question: aren’t there books on this topic already? One would be surprised. As Moorhouse contends in his preface, the invasion of Poland is given short shrift in larger works of WWII and often bedeviled by popular histories with a dependence upon biased German sources. To wit:

“The results are predictably myopic: historians repeat Nazi propaganda tropes almost verbatim, ignore the Soviet invasion entirely, and shamefully write the Poles out of their own history.”

Moorhouse seeks to “rebalance the wonky Western narrative” of this opening campaign and elevate the Poles from “nameless, voiceless victims” through the extensive use of archival accounts, diaries, and memoirs. With these voices, the reader is plunged deeply into the maelstrom of Poland’s plight, witnessing brief moments of its pugilistic glory, but even more the increasing scenes of horror as aerial bombing rains death upon civilians and the land is laid waste. These perfidies become a bloody blueprint for the Nazi atrocities yet to come in the Second World War, Moorhouse notes.

Hitler invaded Poland with nearly 1.5 million men, divided into two army groups driving from the north and south. Surrounded on nearly all sides by Germany, the Soviet Union, and German-friendly states, Poland was a sitting duck geographically. Despite being outnumbered in land forces, as well as possessing a near nonexistent air force, Poland resisted courageously. Starting with the stubbornly defended Westerplatte depot enduring direct fire from the German battleship Schleswig–Holstein in Danzig on September 1, the Polish military swung into action with an élan fitting for a nation steeped in martial accomplishments and pride. Moorhouse points to the lack of mechanization and armored units as mitigating factors in Poland’s ability to resist longer than the five-week campaign but gives credit to the pluckiness of Polish army units who reformed behind the advancing German lines to continue the fight—these actions were critical to slowing the German juggernaut, he posits. But the biggest reason Poland could not hold out against the Nazi avalanche from the west and the Red Army sliding in from the east, was the spineless non-action of its ostensible allies: Britain and France.

Indeed, time was of the essence as Poland’s enemies from east and west rushed to meet somewhere in the middle. Violence, paranoia, and racism surged, and civilian atrocities mounted in scale and brutality. Within this context, Moorhouse masterfully showcases the urgent moral responsibility of Britain and France to honor their commitments to Poland. The story of their ultimate betrayal makes for painful reading. Poland repeatedly called for aid, but alas, her allies proved chimerical—no form of materiel or military assistance ever appeared. In this, Moorhouse reserves his most scathing denunciation of their fecklessness, accrediting to Britain and France the bravery to fling around “vowels and consonants” rather than provide the action needed for Poland’s survival.

The book is full of ripe theories that tantalize and invite further reflection, as well. For example, Moorhouse discusses at length the various atrocities perpetrated on the Polish people and analyzes the potential motives for such previously unseen levels of barbarity, even by wartime standards. In the case of the Nazis, the virulent brutality was almost entirely race-driven, as most German soldiers looked upon Poles the same way as Jewish people: “dirty,” subhuman, and something to be eradicated. More intriguing still, Moorhouse raises the possibility of pervasive methamphetamine drug use among German soldiers as another factor fueling their zeal for killing. The Soviets, on the other hand, focused their vengeance upon class issues (as is the wont of communists) and sought payback for perceived offenses. The Red Army’s class war on Polish military officers and civilians deemed “oppressors” of native Byelorussians and Ukrainians living inside Poland could mean extradition to labor camps or summary execution for those unfortunate to fall into their hands. From west to east, Poland was rent asunder in blood and tears.

Poland 1939 is a searing and long-overdue addition to WWII and Polish historiography and should be top-of-the-stack reading for history fans of the era. The narrative is taut and proceeds at the double-quick, detailing with verve the bravery, pride, and tenacity of a people who were the first to fight but not the last to fall under the scythe of Hitler and Stalin.

Peggy Kurkowski holds a BA in History from American Public University and is a copywriter living in Denver, Colorado