Ernle Bradford's 1980 The Battle for the West: Thermopylae, which in later printings has Thermopylae as the first word of the title instead, covers not solely the famous last stand of Leonidas and his 300 Spartans against the overwhelming might of Persia in 480 BCE, but also the political, geographical, and even religious context leading up to the invasion of Xerxes, along with the machinations and the land and sea battles afterward, which due both to skill and to weather as well, saved Greece and, indeed, the rest of Europe.
According to Bradford, most of those "great many distinguished scholars [who] have devoted intensive research into all and every aspect of the Greco-Persian wars" actually "seem to have been writing for other scholars, or only for those fortunate enough to have enjoyed a classical education." Yet even close to 50 years ago now he observes that "the memory of the classical world is fading" and that "we have forgotten the roots of our culture." This author, however, in addition to the ancient Herodotus and Plutarch and Aeschylus he quotes so casually, also brings in the hands-on perspective of one whose "first acquaintance with Greece, the Aegean, and the Near East was over a period of three and a half years during the Second World War" and who afterward "was able to return at leisure several times at the helm of small boats, and come to know intimately these seas and lands once fought over by the warring armies and fleets of the Greeks and the Persians" (1980 McGraw Hill hardcover, page 13).
"It may not help to have sailed around Salamis, to have circumnavigated Euboea, or to have felt the lash of an Aegean storm," shrugs Bradford, "but it did serve to shed a new light upon the classics, and to make the struggle between Greece and Persia comprehensible in geographical and nautical terms" (page 13). Yes, I'm sure it did, and this personal understanding shows through the whole text to make events that easily could seem abstract and remote feel near and vibrant instead.
The author's very style, too, makes the book come alive. Bradford is a storyteller, one who tries to make us not only understand but, when appropriate, feel. He is the type of fellow, for example, who starts his first chapter with "The whole of the East was on the move. So indeed it must have seemed to some peasant, looking up bewildered from his patch of land, as the army surged past like a river in spate" (page 21). And of course even in the Preface, when Bradford reports sadly that although "[t]he last stand of King Leonidas and the Spartans was told as a golden story in [his] youth," in more recent years "it would seem to have been downgraded, perhaps because their military outlook and stubborn courage have made them unattractive in a hedonistic society," the old man--for so he seems, perhaps bearded, stubborn himself, maybe gesturing with a pipe beside some stone hearth--then retorts,
"Without courage, man is nothing. Without the Battle of Thermopylae, that pass held against all odds, there would never would have followed [the Greek victories of] Artemisium, Salamis[,] and Platea. Distasteful though it may have been to later historians, preoccupied with Athens, it was very largely the generalship of the Spartan Pausanias that made the victory of Plataea possible." (page 14)
Ah, now, that is writing.
Bradford is no mere Spartan-loving tough-guy, though. While explaining that state's social and political structure, and also giving praise where praise is due, he nevertheless refers to it many times throughout as "strange," for it was, not only to us but also to its contemporaries. He covers Athenian politics as well, and the jockeying of the various city-states of disunited Greece, along with the history of the Persian Empire and its current ambition, after the defeat of King Darius at Marathon in 490 BCE, to move again into Europe and conquer.
Regarding the Persians, by the way, Bradford notes that while the 38-year-old Xerxes "was...drawn by Greek historians and dramatists" as a rather stereotypical "traditional Oriental tyrant, it is noticeable that Herodotus himself concedes a number of virtues to this arch-enemy of his people. Xerxes, as he depicts him, is capable of compassion as well as regal munificence" (page 21). Moreover, in contrast to "the amoral Gods of the Homeric world," what Xerxes believed in was much more familiar to those of us in the modern West, "the inspired message that Zoroaster, the prophet, had left behind many centuries before," a religion not of childlike supernatural squabblers but of a monotheistic God of goodness (page 22).
Still, it "was in no sense a religious war" on either side, Bradford reminds us, for "what the Greeks resented above all--though almost every city-state was at variance with the other--was the assumption that any man could call himself the God-appointed ruler of all other men. What, on the surface, almost united Greece in the struggle...was the simple survival instinct" (pages 22-23).
And although it naturally is common to think of the Persian campaign as a battle for Greece, since that is where it was stopped and that is where the histories were written, the aim in fact was far, far greater. This attack that was "four years in preparation" (page 25) was
"no reprisal raid on Athens and Sparta for their refusal to offer the tokens of submission (or for Sparta's treatment of the Persian ambassadors); no simple vengeance on the mainland Greeks who had assisted the Ionians in their revolt; nor was it merely to the desire to lay low these proud, warlike people and add them and their rocky land to [Xerxes's] empire." (page 155)
No, the "aim, with the aid of the Carthaginians, was the conquest of all the Mediterranean lands" (page 155). All of 'em. This is why the word West is in the book's title rather than simply Greece. As Bradford notes, "Had [the plan] succeeded, the Zoroastrian creed might have been imposed upon the pagan Greeks. There would have been no fifth-century Athens, and all European history would have been very different" (page 40).
Yet it was not to be. Instead, Bradford's wide-ranging text takes us to what was to be a fateful chokepoint, where Dieneces of Sparta threw back the Persian warning that their arrows would darken the sun with the laugh that the defenders then could fight in the shade (page 142), through the butchery and the glory of that last stand, and beyond, to the ensuing politicking and the strategizing and the soldiering and the chance occurrences that helped preserve the "anarchic individualism" of those ancient city-states whose "brilliance...still funds the whole of what is left of Western civilisation" (page 245).
In short, Ernle Bradford's The Battle for the West: Thermopylae, written evenhandedly, evocatively, and with wit, is a delightful 5-star read that, to borrow the author's description of the bronze pillar "dedicated to Apollo at Delphi" shortly thereafter the victory, remains "a memorial to those ancient Greeks who, so many centuries ago, ensured that the patterns of freedom and individual liberty should survive in the West" (page 245).