View source for Panther Soup: A European Journey in War and Peace by John Gimlette

{{infobox1 
|title=Panther Soup: A European Journey in War and Peace  
|author=John Gimlette   
|reviewer=Paul Harrop 
|genre=Travel 
|summary=A rich, but nourishing stew of travel and history, retracing the progress of the American liberators through the war-torn Europe of 1945. 
|rating=4 
|buy=Yes 
|borrow=Yes 
|pages=416
|publisher= Hutchinson
|date=March 2008 
|isbn=978-0091921385
|cover=0091921384
|aznuk=0091921384
|aznus=0091921384
}}

In 1945, Americans came in their millions to liberate a Europe smashed by war. It was a movement of men and machinery on a scale never seen before. Many men died; more are dying off today. Sixty years on, travel writer John Gimlette chanced upon a survivor of that campaign. His meeting prompted a decision to retrace the GIs' progress through France, Austria and Germany to try and relive those events, and to discover what remains of them today. ''Panther Soup'' is the story of that journey.

The title comes from the feline names given to combat divisions and machines on both sides, and the chaos they left behind. The book is a chunky bouillabaisse rather than a smooth consommé. But that's hardly surprising given the diverse ingredients. Gimlette mixes up interviews with old soldiers and resistance fighters, along with tales of his own travels, and those he undertook with Putnam Flint, the octogenarian old soldier from whose experiences the book evolved.

Gimlette's major challenge was to find a connection between the staggering statistics of the American deployment and the recollections of Flint and other individuals. He conveys both with an impressive command of facts (he is a practising barrister) and an eye for the telling detail. He links the two with his personal impressions of people and places along the route.

Although my knowledge of the relevant geography and history is shamefully sketchy, the book gave me a real feel for the complexities of the events of 1945 as well as their contemporary legacy. That is due in no small part to Gimlette's skill as a writer.

Never one to reach for an easy cliché, he coins endless freshly-minted phrases and colourful similes. That approach extends to his own opinions. He is not afraid, for example, to express admiration for the Americans or the Germans, or for the oft-shunned city of Marseilles. He revels in the oddities of the communities he discovers and, like any good travel writer, makes you want to see those places for yourself.

Gimlette's research is exhaustive, and he is a fearless seeker of the experiences and insights of others. Sickeningly talented, he displays a good command of French, at least a working knowledge of German, as well as artistic ability: he illustrates the book with many pencil sketches. So it comes as a comfort to learn that he is a poor driver and that he succumbs to a sweaty funk when trekking the more precipitous alpine passes.

If I have any criticism of the book, it is that it tries too much. It's a long and, at times, unwieldy read. The task of assimilating the diversity of experiences and timescales often seems too great. In his insatiable hunger for discovery and experience, Gimlette seems reluctant to leave anything out, whether it's a sordid sex show in Paris or the murkiest corner of Marseilles.

To continue to the book's culinary theme, then, it might leave you a little dyspeptic, but you will be well-nourished and, ultimately, hungry for more.

I'd like to thank the publishers for sending a copy to The Bookbag.

For more travel with a war theme you might enjoy [[The Memorial to the Missing of the Somme by Gavin Stamp]] or [[Tout Soul by Karen Wheeler]].

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