It’s the Crimean War, the 1850s. The French (along with the Brits and Turks, I guess) are trying to capture the Black Sea port city of Sevastopol. It was a long siege. At first, the Russians were cocky, then struggling, then lost. Eventually, led by the French, the allies took the city. Eventually, Russia gave up on the war and lost access to its Black Sea fleet.
Tolstoy wrote three short stories (together about 200 pages), taking place in December, in May, in August. The stories follow Russian soldiers and officers, determined and then frustrated, and then worried, but afraid to let their fear show. No organization, no leadership, injury and death follows injury and death, the civilian town disappears, it gets more desperate by the page.
The fog of war. The horror of war. Nothing ever changes.
Arthur Thinks (He Thinks) 