As with so many recent volumes published in Russia/by Russians, ‘The Price of Victory’ offers a mixed bag for readers. Those familiar with western academic studies might come away perplexed by this narrative. Lopukhovsky and Kavalerchik are not professional demographers or statisticians, but they are attempting to add to the discourse around the topic of casualties and combat losses in both the Red Army and their opponents (Wehrmacht and allies). Thus, one of the major weaknesses of this work is that its authors are not experts on the subject they have set out to discuss and analyze. Additionally, readers unfamiliar with Russian histories might find it somewhat off-putting that the authors regularly focus on a few studies and continually attack the authors and their research. These polemical attacks, rarely found in western academic research, are too often the norm among Russian researchers (both academic and nonprofessional). Instead of presenting their findings, the authors stress what they believe to be sloppy or ideologically influenced conclusions, offer hypotheticals about how and why specific conclusions were reached, and continually ask rhetorical questions that do not add anything to their argument(s).
For those able to overlook the above, the strengths of this work become quickly apparent. That there are problems with how Red Army military casualties were previously calculated should come as no surprise to those familiar with the Second World War’s Eastern Front. Only one text has regularly served as a reference for those interested in the various campaigns Soviet forces participated in and the losses they sustained. However, recently numerous authors, researchers, and historians have pointed out the many inconsistencies in Krivosheev’s “Soviet Casualties and Combat Losses in the Twentieth Century” and its second edition, available only in Russian to date. The majority of the examples provided by Lopukhovsky and Kavalerchik focus on 1941 encirclements and the Battle of Kursk. Those with a passing interest in this subject might become bogged down in the many figures, exclusions, extrapolations, etc., and the included tables with figure breakdowns are essential in helping to pinpoint inconsistencies. The authors rely on not only Russian archival and secondary sources, but also German, English, and Finnish literature on the subject. As just one example of the necessity of this type of study, with the authors bringing to light recent research they show the dangers of underestimation and overestimation when it comes to casualties for political or ideological reasons. Just one inconsistency found by the authors in Krivosheev’s work meant that either there were close to half a million German deaths in Soviet POW camps or close to two million, if the latter were proven true that would mean a reorientation of our understanding of both the German and Soviet experience in the Second World War.
Regrettably, the inaccessibility of many archival collections in today’s Russia automatically place limits on the conclusions the authors are able to reach. Until Russian authorities raise the seal of secrecy from numerous collections and files, we only have bits and pieces of the greater whole to consult in order to access some type of greater truth when it comes to Soviet casualties. Therefore, as the authors themselves point out, this text is a starting point for future research. Only after opening all formerly classified Soviet/Russian archives will historians have a chance to review the actions of both the Red Army and Wehrmacht in more detail. With this information, they will undoubtedly reach a better understanding of how successful German operations were in 1941, why the Red Army consistently retreated and left behind hundreds of thousands of prisoners of war, and to what extent could Soviet forces have avoided the numerous sacrifices so many were forced to make.