Adam LeBor’s The Last Days of Budapest is an extraordinary piece of nonfiction that brings to life one of the most turbulent and harrowing moments in Hungary’s history. With the precision of a seasoned journalist and the storytelling skill of a novelist, LeBor reconstructs the story of Budapest in 1944–45 with unflinching detail and deep humanity.

Drawing on eyewitness testimonies, archival documents, and personal accounts, LeBor exposes the suffering endured by ordinary civilians, the political betrayals, and the staggering violence that unfolded as the city became a battleground between Nazi forces, Soviet troops, and Hungary’s own fascist Arrow Cross regime. What makes this book especially compelling is LeBor’s ability to balance the big picture—military strategy, political intrigue—with intimate, heartbreaking stories of survival and loss.

This is history at its most vivid and vital. The Last Days of Budapest is not just a chronicle of destruction, but also a tribute to resilience.

Very well written and researched. It seemed like the author really cared about this topic because of all the attention to detail. Illustrating Hungary’s role and the confusion that was present. I loved the personal stories that were included, I felt connected to the story and parts I felt like I was really there. This book truly has something for everyone. History, geography, and political rolled into one amazingly written book.

I’ve read hundreds of books about World War II, but few focus much on Hungary’s role. Most people who are familiar with WW2 history know that while Hungary joined Germany’s invasion of Russia in 1941, the country’s government did not fall in line with the Nazis’ murderous policies against Jews, Roma, or other groups. While right-wing politicians were able to get some antisemitic laws passed, Jews were far better off in Hungary than in Germany, Poland, and Czechoslovakia, for example. But in 1944, Germany forced itself on Hungary and, despite it being clear that Germany was losing the war, attacked Hungary’s Jews, enthusiastically aided by Hungary’s far-right and sadistic Arrow Cross party.

Lebor tells the story of Budapest during the war largely through people who lived that history. Jews, Hungarian socialites, members of the Hungarian army, spies, diplomats are all players in the story. It’s striking that Budapest remained its cosmopolitan self through 1943, with no blackouts or rationing. What a shock, then, when the war came home to Budapest just as everyone was thinking that it would soon be over.

Lebor also emphasizes the political role played by Hungary’s leaders. Hungary had lost a great deal of its lands in the Trianon treaty following World War I, and a desire to regain that land drove much of its early decision to join forces with Germany. Unfortunately, the obsession with reversing Trianon, and the country’s hostility toward Russia, clouded the government’s decision-making during 1944 and resulted in hesitation and lost opportunities. The result was disaster and a horrific year and a half being ravaged by Germany and the Arrow Cross. The Arrow Cross members in Budapest daily hunted Jews, Roma, and other perceived enemies, tortured them, and killed them, often in plain view of the public and right up until the last days of the war.

Lebor claims that because of this history—including its prewar history as being not nearly as anti-semitic as its neighbor countries—Budapest today is the least anti-semitic in Europe; there are no hateful graffiti or attacks on the several Holocaust memorials in the city, he writes. I don’t know if this is true, I hope it is.

A fascinating mix of political and social history of this intriguing city during World War II.

I listened to the audiobook, read by David Thorpe. Thorpe is an able narrator. Anyone familiar with Hungary and eastern Europe knows how difficult it can be to pronounce personal and place names correctly. It’s clear that Thorpe did some prep work on pronunciation, though there are still quite a few slip-ups that one often hears with native English speakers, like pronouncing Jerzy as if it’s a homophone with jersey. But if you don’t take offense at some mispronunciations, this book doesn’t suffer from being in audiobook form.