22 June 1941 changed the direction of the Second World War. It also changed the direction of human history. Unleashing a massive, three-pronged assault into Soviet territory, the German army unwittingly created its own nemesis, forging the modern Russian state in the process. Thus, for most Russians, 22 June 1941 was a critical point in their nation's history. After the first day of Barbarossa nothing would be the same again for anyone. Now, for the first time in English, Russians speak of their experiences on that fatal Sunday. Apparently caught off guard by Hitlers initiative, the Soviets struggled to make sense of a disaster that had seemingly struck from nowhere. Here are generals scrambling to mobilize ill-prepared divisions, pilots defying orders not to grapple with the mighty Luftwaffe, bewildered soldiers showing individual acts of blind courage, and civilians dumbstruck by air raid sirens and radio broadcasts telling of German treachery.

The story of the world’s largest ever invasion through the voices of the men – and women – who witnessed it first-hand.

On 22 June 1941 Hilter unleashed his forces on the Soviet Union. Spearheaded by four powerful Panzer groups and protected by an impenetrable curtain of air support, the seemingly invincible Wehrmacht advanced from the Soviet Union's western borders to the immediate outskirts of Leningrad, Moscow and Rostov in the shockingly brief period of less than six months. The sudden, deep, relentless German advance virtually destroyed the entire peacetime Red Army and captured almost 40 percent of European Russia before expiring inexplicably at the gates of Moscow and Leningrad. An invasion designed to achieve victory in three to six weeks failed and, four years later, resulted in unprecendented and total German defeat. David Glantz challenges the time-honoured explanation that poor weather, bad terrain and Hitler's faulty strategic judgement produced German defeat, and reveals how the Red Army thwarted the German Army's dramatic and apparently inexorable invasion before it achieved its ambitious goals.

When Hitler ordered the start of Operation Barbarossa, millions of German soldiers flooded into Russia, believing that their rapid blitzkrieg tactics would result in the an easy victory similar to the ones enjoyed by the Wehrmacht over Poland and France. But the huge human resources at the disposal of the Soviet Union, and the significant distances and overstretched supply lines that the Germans had to overcome, saw the seemingly invincible armored spearheads start to slow. Finally, in sight of Moscow, the German invasion ground to a halt. Hitler's dreams of a quick victory were shattered and the ensuing war of attrition was to bleed Germany white, robbing her of manpower and equipment in one of the bloodiest episodes in human history. Fully illustrated with unique Osprey artwork, new maps, and contemporary photographs, Operation Barbarossa tells the story of one of the definitive campaigns of World War II and examines how the failure of the invasion contributed to the final defeat of Nazi Germany.

This “riveting account of one of history’s greatest blunders” chronicles Russia’s tragic mishandling of Nazi Germany’s invasion during WWII (William L. O’Neill, The New Leader). On June 22, 1941, Nazi Germany’s Operation Barbarossa was launched against Russia. Within days, the invading army had taken hundreds of thousands of Soviet captives while the Luftwaffe bombed a number of Russian cities, including Minsk. Though accurate intelligence about the plan had been available to Stalin before the attack, he chose not to heed the warning. In What Stalin Knew, historian and former chief of the CIA’s Soviet division David E. Murphy illuminates many of the enigmas surrounding the catastrophic invasion, offering keen insights into Stalin’s thinking and the reasons for his fatal error of judgment. A story of successful misinformation campaigns, and a leader more paranoid about threats from within his regime than from an aggressive neighbor, this authoritative history sheds essential new light on the most consequential event in the Eastern Front of World War II. “If, after the war, the Soviet Union had somehow been capable of producing an official inquiry into the catastrophe of 6/22—comparable in its mandate to the 9/11 commission here—its report might have read a little like [this book]. . . . Murphy brings to his subject both knowledge of Russian history and an insider’s grasp of how intelligence is gathered, analyzed and used—or not.” —Niall Ferguson, The New York Times Book Review “A fascinating and meticulously researched account of mistaken assumptions and errors of judgment . . . Never before has this fateful period been so fully documented.” —Henry A. Kissinger

Operation Barbarossa, Hitler's plan for invading the Soviet Union, has by now become a familiar tale of overreach, with the Germans blinded to their coming defeat by their initial victory, and the Soviet Union pushing back from the brink of destruction with courageous exploits both reckless and relentless. And while much of this version of the story is true, Frank Ellis tells us in Barbarossa 1941, it also obscures several important historical truths that alter our understanding of the campaign. In this new and intensive investigation of Operation Barbarossa, Ellis draws on a wealth of documents declassified over the past twenty years to challenge the conventional treatment of a critical chapter in the history of World War II. Ellis's close reading of an exceptionally wide range of German and Russian sources leads to a reevaluation of Soviet intelligence assessments of Hitler's intentions; Stalin's complicity in his nation's slippage into existential slaughter; and the influence of the Stalinist regime's reputation for brutality—and a fear of Stalin's expansionist inclinations—on the launching and execution of Operation Barbarossa. Ellis revisits two major controversies relating to Barbarossa—the Soviet pre-emptive strike thesis put forward in Viktor Suvorov's book Icebreaker; and the view of the infamous Commissar Order, dictating the execution of a large group of Soviet POWs, as a unique piece of Nazi malevolence. Ellis also analyzes the treatment of Barbarossa in the work of three Soviet-Russian writers—Vasilii Grossman, Alexander Bek, and Konstantin Simonov—and in the first-ever translation of the diary kept by a German soldier in 20th Panzer Division, brings the campaign back to the daily realities of dangers and frustrations encountered by German troops.

From the chaos of the First World War, during which Germany and Russia had fought each other to a standstill, there emerged two societies whose diametrically opposed ideologies of communism and fascism represented the opposite extremes of the political spectrum. Despite this, in time the governments and military establishments in both countries were able to create an environment where political expediency led to both cooperation and an eventual alliance. Western democracies found both systems repellent but the two countries, Germany and the Soviet Union, embodied vast resources of, in the case of the Soviets, raw materials and, in the case of Germany, huge intellectual, scientific and industrial expertise. Both offered massive opportunities for trade, but neither made comfortable partners. Britain, whose sympathies lay more with the Germans, and France, whose history tied them more to Eastern Europe, tended to treat both Germany and the Soviet Union as outcast states. This created a great deal of animosity in return and ultimately drove the outcasts into each other’s arms. while animosity was rampant on a political level, both countries, now having equal pariah status in the eyes of the Western allies, began to see huge benefits in military and economic cooperation. Collaborative ventures for covert armament production and training facilities were initiated in 1921. These schemes would continue, with varying degrees of success, for more than a decade until the rise of Nazism in Germany put an end to it. The Spanish Civil War saw not only the two rival political philosophies but opposing military doctrines also being tested against each other on the field of battle. It is remarkable, therefore, that these two nations emerged from this maelstrom to rediscover the ‘spirit of Rapallo’. It was a spirit which culminated in the signing of the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact in August 1939. Within weeks, both sides would display their unity as they fell together with ruthless efficiency upon the hapless Poland. This book looks at how these two ‘strange bedfellows’ dealt with western hostility and found ways to accommodate each other in a bid to recover from the economic devastation and dismantling of their historic territorial boundaries. The extent to which cooperation was achieved is unusual given the circumstances, especially as they had to contend with the machinations of the Western Powers. The era of the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact proved to be a brief liaison, one that collapsed into savagery again when Hitler launched Operation Barbarossa just a few months later.