An entirely new look at the shocking impact of the First World War on New Zealand. For New Zealand, World War One was wholly avoidable, wholly unnecessary — and almost wholly disastrous. Stevan Eldred-Grigg believes that the enormous cost of the war to our people was way too high — and that we still feel its effects, both socially and culturally, today. This is excellent narrative non-fiction, analysing our history in a novel way. It's very accessible but is backed up by meticulous research. Stevan goes against the accepted line and gives us a fascinating look at our social history before, during and just after WW1. Why did we go to the war in Europe? Was the country united in its desire for war? What were the economic and social consequences? What has been the impact on the psyches of New Zeland men? These and many other questions are answered in this fascinating book. In 2007 Harvey McQueen wrote in a review of New Zealand's Great War (an anthology of essays) that '[there is] a need for a general, popular history of 'our' Great War... we need a skilled writer in the mould of Sinclair, Oliver or King to give an overview and link the various elements into a coherent whole.' This is that book.

NATIONAL BESTSELLER In this definitive account of the conflict, acclaimed war correspondent and bestselling author Bing West provides a practical way out of Afghanistan. Drawing on his expertise as both a combat-hardened Marine and a former assistant secretary of defense, West has written a tour de force narrative, rich with vivid characters and gritty combat, which shows the consequences when strategic theory meets tactical reality. Having embedded with dozens of frontline units over the past three years, he takes the reader on a battlefield journey from the mountains in the north to the opium fields in the south. A fighter who understands strategy, West builds the case for changing course. His conclusion is sure to provoke debate: remove most of the troops from Afghanistan, stop spending billions on the dream of a modern democracy, and insist the Afghans fight their own battles. Bing West’s book is a page-turner about brave men and cunning enemies that examines our realistic choices as a nation.

Want to know the truth about the American Civil War? You won't learn it from any mainstream book. But you will in our international blockbuster, Everything You Were Taught About the Civil War Is Wrong, Ask a Southerner!

Published to coincide with the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of the Great European War in 1914, Achievement is a guide to the war on which the future of Europe turned. Ian Hall’s fascinating book examines the social, political and military circumstances of the previous 200 years, it considers the conditions that allowed one nation, Germany, to justify a war in continental Europe on a scale never before possible, sending more than eighty army divisions to invade its neighbours in what can be described as the first industrial war. Achievement also examines why Britain, at that time one of the world’s greatest industrial and Imperial powers, could send only six divisions to join the party and wonders at the accomplishment of expanding such a force to more than fifty divisions just four years later. The book’s journey includes visiting the history of the nations of Britain and continental Europe, encouraging us to wonder at the empty splendour of European monarchies, allowing us to explore the foothills of the Industrial Revolution. It also makes one or two diversions into the by ways of history to remind us of events that have shaped Britain and its place in the world. The British army, from its most senior commanders down, make appearances throughout. The decisions to be faced and examples of the courage of the fighting men and the casualties that resulted are all considered in this encompassing commentary on the Great War.

The Politically Incorrect Guide to the Civil War is a joyful, myth-busting, rebel yell that shatters today’s Leftist and demeaning stereotypes about the South and the Civil War.

Why we learn the wrong things from narrative history, and how our love for stories is hard-wired. To understand something, you need to know its history. Right? Wrong, says Alex Rosenberg in How History Gets Things Wrong. Feeling especially well-informed after reading a book of popular history on the best-seller list? Don't. Narrative history is always, always wrong. It's not just incomplete or inaccurate but deeply wrong, as wrong as Ptolemaic astronomy. We no longer believe that the earth is the center of the universe. Why do we still believe in historical narrative? Our attachment to history as a vehicle for understanding has a long Darwinian pedigree and a genetic basis. Our love of stories is hard-wired. Neuroscience reveals that human evolution shaped a tool useful for survival into a defective theory of human nature. Stories historians tell, Rosenberg continues, are not only wrong but harmful. Israel and Palestine, for example, have dueling narratives of dispossession that prevent one side from compromising with the other. Henry Kissinger applied lessons drawn from the Congress of Vienna to American foreign policy with disastrous results. Human evolution improved primate mind reading—the ability to anticipate the behavior of others, whether predators, prey, or cooperators—to get us to the top of the African food chain. Now, however, this hard-wired capacity makes us think we can understand history—what the Kaiser was thinking in 1914, why Hitler declared war on the United States—by uncovering the narratives of what happened and why. In fact, Rosenberg argues, we will only understand history if we don't make it into a story.

While a plethora of studies have discussed why so many men decided to volunteer for the army during the Great War, the experiences of those who were called up under conscription have received relatively little scrutiny. Even when the implementation of the respective Military Service Acts has been investigated, scholars have usually focused on only the distinct minority of those eligible who expressed conscientious objections. It is rare to see equal significance placed on the fact that substantial numbers of men appealed, or were appealed for, on the grounds that their domestic, business, or occupational circumstances meant they should not be expected to serve. David Littlewood analyses the processes undergone by these men, and the workings of the bodies charged with assessing their cases, through a sustained transnational comparison of the British and New Zealand contexts.