ISBN: 0-8232-2627-1
Pages: xii + 547

Foreword; Introduction; maps; Epilogue; Bibliographic Notes; Notes; Bibliography; Index

   Hats off to Valdis Lumans. He has written one of the best World War II books of the year, and he has chosen a topic ripe for this kind of serious, in-depth treatment. In an effort reminiscent—and worthy— of Bernd Fischer's excellent Albania at War, Lumans presents a complete, even-handed examination of a small nation caught in the machinations of great powers, where—still after all these years—some strident voices continue to hotly debate wartime events and the meanings of those events.
   Although the author carefully notes that he has not conducted primary research in the relevant archives, he utilizes a vast treasure of resources written over the years by participants and commentators of every political stripe. Lumans weighs all their perspectives, admits when facts remain uncertain, and judiciously presents measured conclusions without insisting that his views are always unfailingly correct. For all that easy-going demeanor, he's never reluctant to place blame where it needs to be assigned. For example, Karlis Ulmanis receives a heaping share of criticism, but the author doesn't shy away from noting that in some particulars—such as refusing to single out Latvia's Jewish minority for discrimination—the dictator proved fair and reasonable.
   Throughout the entire tome, Lumans eschews a stilted, academic approach and instead adopts a deft, personable tone—but heavily footnoted—making for pleasurable reading and quick comprehension. In addition, although he doesn't throw the fact constantly in the face of the reader, he occasionally mentions a personal connection to Latvia, as in this instance: "In the end this uprising failed and the Russians brutally suppressed the Latvians, executing some 3,000 and exiling thousands more to Siberia. Another 5,000 fled abroad, including two of this author's granduncles."
   That particular passage refers to the Latvian revolution of 1905, part of the opening chapter of the book which sets the scene with an introduction to Latvian geography and an enlightening survey of the nation's history from the twelfth century through the inter-war years. As with all the controversial topics he tackles, Lumans looks at all sides of issues such as the actual amount of Latvian support for the Bolsheviks during 1917-1920 and the relative numbers of Strelnieki troops fighting for and against independence. This chapter also includes a surprisingly detailed description of pre-war Latvian armed forces.
   The second chapter, "Latvia's Road to War," begins with the Ulmanis coup of 15 May 1934 and lays out the nature of his dictatorship and his shaping of the Latvian state prior to the outbreak of war. Lumans notes that in the post-war era many Latvians looked back on the period of the Ulmanis dictatorship as the "golden years" of the nation, but in fact that was not truly the case. Ulmanis ruled by decree. Political opponents were imprisoned (but not, the author emphasizes, tortured or murdered). The press was heavily censored. The government controlled the economy in a fashion that provided some limited short-term prosperity to ensure popular support at the cost of serious, long-term, structural shortcomings. All non-Latvians were gradually reduced to second-class citizens. The chapter also follows Latvian military preparations—such as they were—and diplomatic maneuvering—strict neutrality within the narrow confines of the nation's precarious position between Germany and the Soviet Union—up to the outbreak of war.
   That precarious neutrality received a rude shock when Germany invaded Poland on 1 September 1939, and another jolt a few days later when Soviet troops crossed the border into eastern Poland. In addition to the dire geopolitical situation, Lumans follows the disruption of Latvia's economy caused by the war, including such telling flourishes as Riga running out of salt by 8 September. The situation was, of course, far worse than a shortage of salt, because the Russo-German Non-Aggression Pact had already consigned Latvia to the Soviet sphere of influence, and—other than evacuation of ethnic Germans—Hitler had for the moment abandoned all interest in the Baltic states, giving Stalin a free hand. On 30 September Soviet Foreign Minister Molotov summoned Latvian Foreign Minister Munters to Moscow. On 2 October and again the next day Stalin and Molotov insisted that Latvia must sign a mutual assistance pact and allow Soviet ground, air, and naval forces to occupy bases in the nation. Back in Riga, with Soviet forces massing on the border, after some discussion Ulmanis decided to acquiesce to Soviet demands without a fight.
   Here's how Lumans relates the scene, along with his judgement on the role of Ulmanis:

   That same night Munters relayed Stalin's ultimatum to the Latvian Cabinet. At least one minister, Finance Minister Alfreds Valdmanis, counseled making at least a symbolic gesture of resistance rather than totally caving in. Other ministers, aware of the massing of Soviet troops on the frontier, suggested instead that complying with the Soviet demand might not be so bad after all. Surely these Soviets were more civilized than the Bolsheviks of 1919-1920. During this exchange fissures in the "Government of National Unity" appeared and continued to widen in the coming months as pressure mounted on the regime. Valdmanis, who had favored closer ties with Germany, blamed Munters for the present debacle: His overreliance on the Western powers and his determination to remain neutral had brought Latvia to this crisis. Valdmanis was not the only dissenter. The elder statesman Mikelis Valters had warned Ulmanis that Munters's policies, which Ulmanis seemed to have adopted as his own, had lulled Latvia into a false sense of security. Valdmanis wryly observed that the ministers who had earlier blustered most passionately "to die standing up than to continue living on your knees" were among the most ardent in beseeching Munters to arrange a ship for the government's flight. Valdmanis's objections to signing the treaty were shortly followed by his resignation, which was prompted by rumors of his role in an alleged coup attempt.
   Overruling Valdmanis and one or two others, Ulmanis, Munters, and the rest agreed to yield to the Soviet demands and hope for the best. When Soviet demands were accepted without even token resistance, Latvia's fate was sealed. Blame for this tragic outcome lies with Ulmanis. One may argue in Ulmanis's defense that he had no other options but to accede to Soviet demands, and with Soviet forces concentrated on the border anything but full compliance would have ended in a foolhardy and bloody calamity. After all, Ulmanis was not the first national leader to buckle under the threat of overwhelming force. In March 1939 statesmen in Prague had yielded to Hitler under similar conditions. But Ulmanis's fault runs deeper than the immediate crisis he may or may not have brought about. It goes all the way back to his decision in May 1934 to seize control and responsibility for Latvia's destiny, suspending the Saeima [parliament] and thereby excluding all other Latvians from the decision-making process. Perhaps the results of this crisis would still have been the same, but the nation, if given a chance to express its views, at least could have had the satisfaction of knowing that what followed was a consequence of the public will, not the decisions of a few men meeting secretly behind closed doors. Having been denied any say in the deliberations over the Mutual Assistance Treaty—not even hearing about the seriousness of the situation until the signing was announced—the Latvian Tauta as a whole could only share in suffering its fateful consequences.

   On 5 October the Latvian foreign minister signed the mutual assistance pact, with a term of ten years, allowing approximately 25,000 Soviet troops to enter Latvia. Estonia and Lithuania, Latvia's Baltic neighbors, also succumbed to Moscow's pressure. On 23 October Soviet warships sailed into Liepaja. Six days later the first Red Army units began crossing into Latvia. The "golden years" were drawing rapidly to a close.
   Although calm on the surface, the situation continued to deteriorate. In theory Latvia retained control over its own affairs, but in practice Ulmanis dared not allow any whisper that might be construed as anti-Moscow. The economy began to fall apart. Remaining gold reserves were shipped overseas. Ulmanis dismissed ministers who showed any sign of disagreeing with his policies or upsetting the Soviets. The Latvian ambassador in London was granted full powers as head of state if the administration in Riga were to lose its freedom of action.
   When the annexation of Latvia finally occurred, it was—notwithstanding Soviet claims to the contrary—orchestrated in Moscow rather than arising from popular sentiment in the occupied nation. On the night of 15 June 1940 Soviet troops, apparently in an effort to frighten the Latvian government, attacked a border station. The next day Molotov issued an ultimatum to the Latvian ambassador: The Ulmanis administration must resign in favor of a pro-Soviet government, and additional Soviet troops must be permitted throughout the country. The alternative would be invasion.

   With Lithuania already occupied, the Maslenkis massacre freshly in mind, Soviet forces camping along the border, and the arrival of the Soviet cruiser Marat to block the port of Riga, Ulmanis and his cabinet considered the Soviet ultimatum. Sunday, June 16 should have been a national day of joy and celebration as 80,000 Latvians gathered in Daugavpils for the national song festival, the ultimate event on Latvia's cultural calendar, featuring 14,000 choral singers, while hundreds of thousands more listened at home on the radio. Ulmanis had planned to attend, but with the critical situation brewing in neighboring Lithuania and with impending danger on the frontiers, he stayed in Riga. Having studied the ultimatum, Ulmanis approached Reich envoy, von Kotze, and inquired whether Germany would sell Latvia weapons in case of a war. Von Kotze answered in the negative, as he also did to Ulmanis's query of whether the Reich would allow the Latvian army and government to withdraw through Klaipeda (Memel). Von Kotze then repeated what had by then become his rote response to any questions related to the Soviet Union: "Germany would not be interested in the problems of the Baltic States." At five in the afternoon Ulmanis addressed the nation by radio in lieu of his canceled appearance at the song festival. Calmly he spoke of the future and the possibility of bad times ahead and pleaded above all for patience, no matter how difficult things might become. Once Ulmanis concluded his talk, the combined choirs at Daugavpils sang the Latvian national anthem, "God Bless Latvia," three times. A despondent crowd headed home at sunset to spend their last hours in an independent Latvia.
   Following the president's radio address the cabinet reconvened to discuss the Soviet demands. At least one minister recommended rejecting the ultimatum on the grounds that the Soviet demands were baseless, but others quickly dismissed that gesture as empty posturing. The possibility of military resistance was also broached, but cooler minds prevailed, dismissing that gallant but doomed gesture as suicidal. Despite all recent efforts to upgrade, Latvian forces were still inadequately armed and had ammunition for no more than one week's combat. In addition to the massed Soviet forces on the frontier, at least 30,000 Soviet troops were already positioned inside Latvia. Furthermore, the Latvian military still had not entirely regrouped from the dislocation following the surrender of their bases to the Soviets. Ulmanis's critics note that although armed resistance might have been a viable option back in October 1939, before the Latvians handed over the military bases to the Soviets—at least then Soviet forces stood outside Latvia's borders—any thoughts of resistance in June 1940 were ludicrous. The Soviets later pointed to the Latvian decision not to resist as evidence of Latvia's unconditional acceptance of their terms and the legitimacy of subsequent events. That evening the cabinet agreed to accept the Soviet ultimatum: The government "consents to the Soviet demand for the admission of Soviet military forces upon Latvian territory, in the same spirit of mutual trust in which it had hitherto fulfilled the stipulation of the treaty of mutual assistance." Ulmanis then resigned as prime minister, but retained the post of president. That night Latvian and Soviet officers began working out the details of the arrival of more Soviet troops.

   On 17 June 1940 approximately 200,000 Soviet troops moved into Latvia. As tanks rolled into Riga, Lumans mentions that his mother watched their arrival while a crowd gathered. Not all sources agree on the composition and disposition of the mob. In any event, all transportation and communication facilities were occupied and taken under Red Army control. On the 19th the Soviet representative in Riga handed Ulmanis a list of members of the new, pro-Moscow government, and the new ministers were duly accepted under Russian guns, taking office the next day with Augusts Kirchensteins as prime minister (although Ulmanis remained as president). In July elections were announced, which was an encouraging sign after that glaring omission during the "golden years." However, the NKVD promptly arrested candidates opposing the pro-Soviet slate, claiming that "...all truly democratic candidates had already joined the Working People's Bloc." Lumans suggests that the election was choreographed in much the same manner as those held in east European states under Soviet occupation at the end of the war. "Although in the last free elections in 1931 the leftist parliamentary bloc that more or less corresponded to the Working People's Bloc received only 7 percent of the vote, in July 1940 the Bloc claimed 97.6 percent of the electorate." Furthermore, the author claims that the Soviet newspaper Tass reported a precisely accurate final tally of the vote while the polls were still open.
   The new government, with Kirchensteins replacing Ulmanis as president, took office in Riga on 21 July. Before the day was out, parliament voted to join Latvia to the USSR as the fourteenth Soviet republic. Ulmanis was dispatched into captivity in the Soviet Union where he died in 1942. The Latvian ambassador in London, under arrangements made previously, claimed the powers of head of state in exile. He was stripped of citizenship and his property confiscated. In the meantime, Latvia was formally incorporated into the Soviet Union on 5 August 1940 at the same session of the Supreme Soviet where Estonia, Lithuania, and the Moldavian SSR were joined to Moscow. Later in the month a Soviet-style constitution was adopted with Kirchensteins serving as chairman of the Latvian Supreme Soviet, and the serious business of Sovietizing Latvia began in earnest.
   The process of Sovietization continued through June 1941 and became known, in contrast to the golden era, as the "year of terror." Aided by the Latvian Communist Party, Moscow completely rebuilt the state in ways small and large, from synchronizing local clocks with Moscow time to exile, imprisonment, and execution for those judged insufficiently pleased with the new regime. The Latvian Army—much reduced in size by weeding out unreliable elements—was incorporated into the Red Army as the 24th Territorial Strelnieki Corps, comprising 181st Strelnieki Division (the former Latvian Kurzeme and Vidzeme Divisions) and 183rd Strelnieki Division (formerly the Latgale and Zemgale Divisions). By mid-June 1941, however, all Latvian officers had been executed or deported to the Gulag and only about 3000 ethnic Latvian troops remained in the heavily Sovietized 24th Corps. Members of the armed forces were not the only ones to suffer. In particular, approximately 15,000 Latvians deemed anti-Soviet were deported to the Gulag on the night of 13-14 June, while similar proceedings took place simultaneously in Estonia and Lithuania. Overall, Lumans estimates that over 34,000 Latvians were murdered or deported prior to the German invasion of the Soviet Union on 22 June 1941.
   Within four days of the invasion German forces had pushed into Latvian territory. Lumans provides interesting information about the course of Operation Barbarossa in Latvia and the fate of the nominally Latvian 24th Corps of the Soviet Army. A large percentage of the remaining Latvian troops seem to have deserted while the remnants of the corps were withdrawn and in August reformed into the 201st Latvian Strelnieki Division which later participated in the defense of Moscow.
   In the meantime, German armies quickly overran Latvia. The presence of the Wehrmacht meant an entirely new era had begun, but the ramifications were not at first completely apparent. Even among German leaders some uncertainty remained about how they would deal with Latvia and its Baltic neighbors.

   As for the Baltic States, Hitler's plans swirled in a constant state of flux. In late July 1940, at about the same time as he decided to attack the Soviet Union, Hitler planned to annex the Baltic States along with the Ukraine and White Russia (Belarus) to the Greater Reich, to be ruled by German governors. Then, by April 1941 he was talking about drawing a line from Archangel in the north to Astrakhan in the southeast as the eastern boundary of German conquest. Within that area stood the Baltic States, designated initially as "protectorates." Finally, on the very eve of war Hitler again anticipated annexing the Baltic area as part of the Germanized Lebensraum, with the racially less desirable part of the population expelled eastward, and the racially acceptable elements converted culturally into Germans. As far as he was concerned, these small states no longer had the right to exist, and restoration of their statehood was out of the question.

   Policy continued to evolve. Alfred Rosenberg and Heinrich Himmler proposed separate policies for dealing with the occupied territories, based in part on their own "scientific" theories about the racial characteristics of the various nationalities. Hitler approved Himmler's plan, but eventually named Rosenberg Reich Minister for Occupied Eastern Territories. As soon as German forces moved into Latvia, competition emerged among Himmler, Rosenberg, Goering, and the Army to shape occupation policies to their own needs.
   Lumans estimates that 40,000-70,000 Latvians fled into Russia ahead of the Germans, but he also indicates that most Latvians initially welcomed Army Group North as liberators. Some accounts claim that nationalist forces had already taken control of Riga before the Germans arrived. Right wing groups such as the Aizsargi and Perkonkrusts certainly began pro-German activities. In the early days, various pro-German self-defense groups were alternately disarmed and recruited into local security forces by competing German factions. Whatever the characteristics of Latvian blood and whatever Hitler's intent, it soon became apparent that with insufficient German boots on the ground only local levies could provide the extra manpower needed to maintain order.
   Many Latvians were perfectly happy to serve their liberators, including some who willingly participated in the operations that soon began to murder Jews, communists, and anyone who might be a threat to the Nazi occupation. The populace, having survived the year of terror, soon faced another horror.
   By this time Rosenberg was ostensibly in charge of occupied territories in the east behind the front lines. He appointed Hinrich Lohse governor of Ostland, including Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. In turn, Otto-Heinrich Drechsler governed Latvia. Lohse and Drechsler favored some limited autonomy for the Baltic states, but Rosenberg's civil administration constantly battled Goering's economic ministry, Himmler's SS, and the Army, all of which had their own plans for exploiting the occupied territories. In an effort to minimize the depredations of occupation and maximize the possibility of a return to independence, the Latvian Organizing Committee (LOC)—an umbrella organization of non-communist groups, including some survivors of the Ulmanis regime—presented itself to the Germans as an efficient local administrative alternative. Given Hitler's need to rule Latvia with minimum investment of troops and resources while the war continued to rage, the LOC began to function in an administrative fashion to implement German policy. These duties included collecting taxes, requisitioning goods for the occupiers, and filling labor quotas. While the LOC, including former minister Valdmanis, believed they were protecting Latvians and working toward freedom for the nation, in other eyes the administration appeared to be nothing more than collaboration with the Nazis.
   Whether through collaboration or self-administration, Latvia mostly continued to be quiet and compliant during the early months of the German occupation. By November 1942, however, the leadership of the LOC suggested to the occupiers that if Germany expected Latvia to continue supporting the war effort and providing troops for the SS, then Riga in turn expected a degree of internal autonomy. In particular, Latvia could provide as many as 100,000 combat troops in exchange for independence. Hitler uncompromisingly forbade any such agreement, but local German administrators concealed the decision and continued to hold out the possibility of autonomy or independence in exchange for support from the LOC administration.

   From the onset of the German occupation the Latvian Self-Administration as well as the German authorities tried to project as glowing an image as possible of the wartime situation in Latvia. But as the initial luster of the liberation wore off, and as more Latvians came to realize the true intentions of the conquerors, animus against the Germans grew, in particular within the Latvian intelligentsia. By 1942 German intelligence reported that although most Latvians still thought positively of the Germans, public sentiments definitely had shifted toward the opposite direction. Increasingly Latvians resigned themselves to the notion that one evil had replaced another. Many concluded that Latvia's only hope lay in Germany and the Soviet Union bleeding each other dry, allowing the Anglo-Americans to intervene and come to Latvia's rescue.
   As the Latvian mood shifted from elation to disillusionment, Latvians realized they could expect little sympathy from the occupiers. As long as the war progressed well enough, the Germans felt no compulsion to compromise and modify their exploitative occupation policies. By late 1942 and early 1943, as German fortunes of war turned, circumstances compelled the Germans to take greater notice of Latvian grievances and to start making concessions. As news of the loss at Stalingrad reached Latvia, expectations of a German defeat became widespread, and the idea of Germans and Russians fighting to the finish and the Western powers picking up the pieces gained credibility.
   Although Latvians had to keep these pessimistic and anti-German opinions to themselves, wary of informers and German security forces discovering their defeatist sentiments, the SD surreptitiously but accurately gauged Latvian attitudes. The Germans responded to the shifting Latvian attitude in two contradictory ways. On the one hand Reich security forces stepped up their repressive measures in order to preempt any attempts to take advantage of German misfortunes and undermine their cause. On the other hand the authorities responded with tokens of generosity. These latter concessions and gestures of good will did not arise from altruism, but rather from the pragmatic consideration that increased Latvian contributions to the Reich's war effort could be effected only through a more flexible relationship. As German authorities initiated efforts to mobilize Latvian manpower for its military as well as its labor force, they increased Latvian food rations and optimistically intimated to Latvian leaders that further gratuities were in the offing. The Latvian mood nevertheless remained pessimistic—for many, even hostile. As one Latvian noted, "We hate the Germans from the depths of our hearts . . . [but] we must . . . show them a smiling face. They undoubtedly help us keep the Bolsheviks outside of our borders." This quote succinctly described the Latvian dilemma: Latvians still preferred the resented Germans to the despised and feared Russians.

   In chapter ten Lumans detours briefly from the larger story of the German occupation to delve into the painful story of the Holocaust in Latvia. In the span of about fifty chilling pages he details for readers the horror of Nazi racial policies, the administration and implementation of the Final Solution in Latvia, and the human cost to the Jewish inhabitants of the occupied territory. Some writers have claimed that Latvians themselves played no role in implementing the Holocaust. Other historians minimize the extent of Latvian participation. Lumans calculates that the number of Latvians who abetted in the Holocaust was substantially higher than generally conceded. With many of their countrymen assisting the Nazis, "...only 1,000 of the 70,000 [Jews] remaining in Latvia at the time of the German invasion had survived." Furthermore, as Lumans demonstrates, the murderers in Latvia killed untold thousands of Jews who were transported there from elsewhere in the east. The author doubts that anyone will ever be able to produce reliable figures, but some sources estimate as many as 240,000 Jews died in Latvia. This chapter, and in particular its closing assessment, stands as one of the most thoughtful and powerful in the book.

   It is doubtful whether anyone will ever tabulate the correct, precise number of Jews killed in the Latvian phase of the Holocaust. And one finally concludes in exasperation—after trying to sort out the plethora of data—that exact numbers contribute little to comprehending the enormity of this phenomenon, even in its localized version in Latvia. Does it really make a difference whether the accurate death count of Jews in Latvia was 65,000 or 240,000? What truly matters is the indisputable fact that the Holocaust did occur and that Latvia provided a convenient and major arena. It also matters that many Latvians participated. And finally it matters, above all, that the Holocaust eradicated a historic, integral segment of Latvia's population, which despite efforts by prewar Latvians to isolate it from the Latvian national body had contributed to the unique ethnic, social, cultural, economic, and political mix that once was Latvia. The Holocaust remains an indelible part of Latvia's experience in World War II, and as Latvians ponder their future, they must reconcile themselves with this haunting part of their historical legacy—whether they like it or not.

   Lumans also tackles another controversial topic, Latvian troops serving the Nazis and in particular the Latvian Legion. By mid-July 1941 the SS had already taken control of all authorized armed groups of Latvian self-defense forces, security units, and police troops. Later in the year at Himmler's order these units were all titled Schutzmannschaften—guardsmen units—usually known as Schuma. Initially employed on security duties within Latvia, the first Schuma battalion was soon dispatched to the front while more were formed and committed piecemeal into Russia. Five battalions were operational before the end of the year, and more in 1942, all recruited on a more-or-less voluntary basis. In January 1943 Himmler ordered three Schuma battalions on the Leningrad front organized into the 2nd Latvian SS Volunteer Brigade. In February Hitler signed an order forming the Latvian SS Volunteer Legion, basically a catch-all term for Latvian units in the SS. Shortly afterwards creation of the 15th Latvian SS Volunteer Division was announced. Before the end of the month, with acquiescence of the "self-administration," Latvian men became subject to induction into either the Legion or labor service in the Reich. In exchange for empty whispers of autonomy, Latvia would be required to fill the ranks of the Legion with troops who would bleed and die on the Russian front.
   In September 1943 Himmler visited Latvia and promised the 2nd Brigade would be expanded to a division. To fill its ranks, conscription was intensified shortly thereafter. Rationalizing that the troops would be used to protect the nation from the resurgent Red Army, the subservient Latvian administrators agreed to enforce further mobilization of manpower. German demands for troops continued to be insatiable, and the Latvians, while vainly asking for political concessions in exchange for greater conscription, continued to supply manpower through their own administration. In 1944 Latvian boys and girls aged fourteen through sixteen were recruited into service as air defense auxiliaries.
   The same chapter also discusses other armed Latvian units in German service, including air units, border guards, security battalions, auxiliaries (Hiwis) serving with Wehrmacht units, and ethnic Russian Latvians who served in a special police battalion (of whom many went on to join the Vlasov Army). Lumans also devotes a few pages to Estonian and Lithuanian forces as well as Latvians serving in the Red Army. According to some sources, as many as 100,000 Latvians served with the Soviets during the course of the war, including two Latvian divisions (along with a Russian division) organized into 130th Latvian Strelnieki Corps. Whatever the exact numbers, by mid-1944 Latvian troops wearing German uniforms battled Latvian troops wearing Soviet uniforms on the territory of their mutual homeland.

   It was during this third Battle of Kurzeme that large numbers of Latvians fought against one another. The Soviets ordered the 130th Latvian Strelnieki Corps, consisting of the 43rd Guards Division and 308th Strelnieki Division, reinforced by recent Latvian conscripts from Soviet occupied areas of Latvia, to assault the sector defended by the Latvian 19th Division. A Soviet Latvian, Major General Detlavs Brantklans, commanded the 130th Corps, although Russian officers filled most of its lower commands. Whenever Latvians on either side discovered they had encountered Latvians in combat, they stopped firing and disengaged. Once the Soviet commanders realized this disinclination on the part of their Latvians to fight other Latvians, they withdrew the Red Latvian units and sent them to sectors defended exclusively by Germans.

   Among all the various Latvian units mobilized by the Germans during the war, the Legion is by far the best known and consumed the most manpower. With two SS infantry divisions (the 19th—expanded from the 2nd Brigade—and 15th) as its primary components, the Latvian Legion was engaged in the northern sector of the Russian front more or less continuously. The two divisions in May 1944 served together under VI SS Volunteer Corps. Later in 1944 the divisions were renamed 15th SS Grenadier Division (1st Latvian) and 19th SS Grenadier Division (2nd Latvian). While a Latvian serving in the SS—Rudolfs Bangerskis, who went on to write about his wartime experiences—held the position of Inspector General and two others—Arturs Silgailis, who wrote a well-known book about the Latvian Legion, and Voldemars Veiss, who died at the front—filled the unusual posts of Infantry Officer of the 15th Division and 19th Division respectively, none of the officers were serving in, strictly speaking, a command position. Latvians commanded no unit larger than a regiment, with Germans filling all the higher posts in the units of the Latvian Legion.
   In post-war Latvia (and sometimes elsewhere), considerable debate erupted about the nature of the Latvian Legion. Was it a Waffen-SS formation or not? Given the guilt of Nazi war crimes associated with the SS, most Latvians—including former Legionnaires—argued that the troops of the Legion were not really members of the SS. Furthermore, distinctions are sometimes made among those who volunteered, those who chose the Legion rather than accept labor service in Germany, and those who were forcibly conscripted. Lumans treats this issue in some detail, noting arguments on both sides of the question. For example, some claim that Legion uniforms included small black collar patches without the standard SS runes. Interestingly, the author points out plenty of photographs exist of Latvian troops with runes on the patches, and that some men apparently doctored wartime photos by blackening out the runes to hide their SS affiliation. Although Lumans asserts that the question of the Latvian Legion as a "genuine" SS formation remains unresolved, he also notes that all Legionnaires swore a personal oath of allegiance to Adolf Hitler. Lumans returns to these issues in his Epilogue.
   After his in-depth chapter on the formation, structure, and evolution of armed Latvian units in German service, Lumans in his next chapter provides an account of the activities of those troops. He looks at anti-partisan actions inside and outside Latvia, "roundups and shootings of thousands of Jews" (including service guarding the Warsaw ghetto), and more conventional military duty on the Leningrad front. Few among the Latvian Legion and other German-controlled units could have avoided the taint of search-and-destroy operations, reprisals, abductions, and liquidations. Nevertheless, the primary battlefield for Latvia was the Leningrad front. There, Lumans writes, the first Latvian fell on 27 October 1941, "...a victim of German friendly fire." Many more Latvians would fall facing Leningrad during the following months and during the subsequent retreat. Remnants of the 15th Division were withdrawn to the Reich in 1944, rebuilt (largely from Latvian forced labor already in Germany), and heavily engaged on the Vistula-Oder Canal in January 1945. The last few elements of the shattered division, constantly retreating westward, mostly attempted to surrender to the western Allies at the end of the war. The 19th Division, on the other hand, remained in Latvia as part of Fortress Courland, the isolated pocket that held firm against the besieging Soviets until the end of the war. Unlike the remainder of the book, Lumans writes in this chapter mostly in generalities without providing details concerning Latvian dispositions and operations. He also makes some minor errors with German names. In any event, these pages outline the flow of the campaign well enough but don't qualify as a unit history of the Latvian Legion.
   The last chapter of the book covers the final months of the war in Europe as the Red Army pushed across the border into Latvia and reoccupied the SSR. Contrary to some opinions to the contrary published by Soviet sources, this appears not to have been a very joyous time for the majority of the nation's citizens.

   As the 19th Waffen-Grenadier Division withdrew south across the Daugava River into Kurzeme on the night of October 9-10, the 19th Fusiliers Battalion under Captain Ernests Laumanis marched through Riga in the dark of night singing a favorite Latvian soldier's song, "A White Rose Blossom." Residents opened windows and tearfully threw flowers at the legionnaires leaving Riga for the last time. Just three years earlier, in October 1941, soldiers of another Latvian unit, the 16th Zemgale Schuma Battalion, had marched off from a Riga parade ground to fight at the Leningrad front. Their expectations and hopes had run high, believing, as their commanders had told them at the departure ceremonies, that they were fighting for Latvia's independence. Their Latvian officers had not intended to mislead them, for they themselves had assumed—perhaps too naively—that their armed contribution on the German side would result in recovering their national sovereignty, either granted by the Germans or seized by the Latvians themselves under propitious circumstances. Things, however, had not worked out as hoped. They had fought hard, but the elusive independence was nowhere in sight. Despite three years of sacrifices and loyal service, and after countless German intimations, and then ultimately promises of Latvian sovereignty, as late as fall 1944 the Germans had conceded nothing tangible. In fact, as the returning Red Army gobbled up stretches of Latvian territory, the prospects for Latvian independence had never looked bleaker.

   According to Soviet sources, German authorities forced a mandatory evacuation of Latvian civilians as they withdrew. According to other sources, Latvian civilians willingly fled to avoid atrocities being committed by Soviet troops. Either way, this stage of the war saw long lines of refugees moving away from the front, with many of them transported across the Baltic to Germany, the remainder packed into German-held Courland. At the same time, withdrawing German forces imposed a strict scorched earth policy in all territory they relinquished. Given the relative lack of damage done during the rapid Soviet retreat from Latvia in 1941, the campaign in 1944-1945 caused far and away the largest proportion of wartime damage to Latvian farms, industries, and cities.
   Lumans chronicles six Soviet offensive operations against the Courland pocket from October 1944 through March 1945 while at the same time keeping abreast of Latvian political developments. Without overt disapproval from German authorities, fifty Latvian delegates convened in Dresden in February 1945 to discuss formation of a "provisional government." The fire-bombing of that city forced relocation of the meeting to Potsdam where the Latvian National Committee (LNC) was founded and elected Inspector General of the Legion Bangerskis as president of a new administration. Upon his return to Courland, Bangerskis was informed in no uncertain terms by the SS that Latvian self-government would not be tolerated. On the other hand, when the Red Army crossed the border, they brought with them a new government that was installed in July 1944 to administer the liberated areas of Latvia. Assisted by an NKVD division, the new administration quickly began inducting local men into Latvian units of the Red Army. The government moved to liberated Riga in October and on the 22nd of that month formally announced resumption of Soviet rule, although the Courland pocket continued to resist.
   After the final Soviet offensive against the fortress in March, Courland remained relatively quiet until May. Hitler continued to forbid evacuation from Fortress Courland while he lived, but upon his suicide Admiral Doenitz immediately ordered withdrawal. For the few remaining days of the war in Europe, German vessels attempted to evacuate troops under constant attacks from the Red Air Force. According to Lumans, after the surrender the Soviets nevertheless bombarded Ventspils, Liepaja, and Kuldiga before occupying the cities with "...looting and other savageries that had become customary." At the time of the German surrender, approximately 14,000 Latvian troops remained under German arms in Courland. Some killed themselves. Some took to the forests to become partisans. Some simply walked home. Most marched into captivity.

   As of May 8, 1945, World War II had ended for Latvia and Latvians, but instead of the euphoria of victory and the elation of liberation, the Latvians faced the return of a conqueror whose first tenure of rule in Latvia had earned the epitaph of Baigais Gads, the Year of Terror. True, the Germans were gone, and in New York, London, Paris, Moscow, Prague, Warsaw—the list of capital cities celebrating victory in Europe could go on—the defeat of Hitler and his armed forces provided ample cause for celebration. But the defeat of the Germans evoked a different mood in Riga, Tallinn, and Kaunas, a funereal atmosphere of abject despondency. One repressive conqueror was being replaced by another, who, in the minds of most Latvians, Estonians, and Lithuanians, was the greater of the two evils. Instead of freedom and liberation the end of the war brought certain subjugation and a return to repression. The essential tragedy of the Baltic situation was that whereas most other victims of German conquest welcomed Allied victory, the defeat of Nazi Germany brought no relief to the Baltic peoples. They were caught in the proverbial no-win quandary, perhaps the most appropriate characterization of Latvia's experience in World War II.

   In his Epilogue, Lumans points out that at the end of the war, Latvia and its two Baltic neighbors "...would be the only European states and former members of the League of Nations that would not have their independence and statehood restored." Although the western Allies had agreed to return all Soviet citizens to the USSR, in many cases this was interpreted to include only those who were citizens of the Soviet Union prior to September 1939, so many Latvians in British and American hands escaped forcible return and received the official designation of Displaced Persons. Having served in the Latvian Legion, however, potentially exposed Legionnaires not only to reprisals from Moscow—which considered them to be traitorous citizens who had taken up arms against their own state—but also from the western Allies who considered them a part of the criminal SS. The United States eventually decided, in the post-WWII Cold War environment, that all Baltic Waffen-SS troops would be treated as involuntary conscripts and not considered part of a criminal organization. Thus, over 100,000 displaced Latvians, including former Legionnaires (such as the author's father) were permitted to settle in the US, Canada, Australia, and elsewhere. At the same time, approximately 19,000 Legionnaires were captured by the Soviets. Some were immediately executed while the majority were dispatched to hard labor in the Gulag for at least ten years, which was often a death sentence. A number of former Legionnaires waged a minor partisan campaign against the occupying Soviets up until 1950 or 1951, with a few incidents supposedly as late as 1957. Meanwhile, Sovietization picked up where it had left off in June 1941 with deportations, central control, and collectivization of agriculture. By the mid-1950s the nation had been fully transformed into a true Soviet Socialist Republic with a population diluted by a massive influx of Russian settlers, and pre-war Latvia had become only a dim memory of the distant past. The book concludes with a few paragraphs on Latvia's return to independence and the difficult path ahead as its citizens strive to create a brighter future after a homegrown dictatorship, Soviet occupation, Nazi occupation, wartime devastation, and a half-century as an SSR.
   Throughout his book Lumans writes clearly and he often effectively emphasizes particular points by repeating them in multiple chapters to remind readers how the events and personalities are interconnected. He provides more than seventy pages of endnotes, a highly informative bibliographic essay, a lengthy bibliography, and a thorough index. The books succeeds very well as it is, but might have been even stronger with inclusion of an appendix of thumbnail biographies of leading figures and perhaps a chronology.
   With the exception of a few minor typos and some slight errors with German names (panzer is not the same as panther, Manstein never served as commander of Army Group North, and Field Marshal Model was not named Arthur), Latvia in World War II is a perfectly splendid book on a difficult topic. Lumans should be thanked and honored for an important piece of work. Furthermore, readers should be licking their lips in eager anticipation if this book is any indication of the high level of quality to be expected from future titles in Fordham University's series covering "countries engulfed by the conflict" (to quote Kurt Piehler, editor of the series, in his Foreword).
   Whatever your interests in World War II, read this book, enjoy it, learn from it, and look forward to more titles in the series. We certainly are.
   Highly recommended as one of the best new WWII books of the year.
   Available from online booksellers, local bookshops, or directly from Fordham University Press.
   Thanks to Fordham for providing this review copy.