The God of that Summer. By Ralf Rothmann. Translated by Shaun Whiteside. Picador; 240 pages; £14.99

Ralf rothmann’s eighth novel, “To Die in Spring” (2015), was the first of the German author’s works to be translated into English. The book at once introduced Anglophone readers to a considerable literary talent and offered an account of the visceral horrors of the second world war from a German perspective. Set during the final stages of the conflict, it told the gripping and often harrowing story of two teenage boys who are drafted into the Waffen-ss and plunged into an apocalyptic world of carnage and destruction.

For his latest novel, once again translated by Shaun Whiteside, Mr Rothmann has mined more drama from the desperate last act of the war. On this occasion, his characters are not fighting a losing battle but struggling to survive on the home front. Twelve-year-old Luisa, her mother, and her older sister Billie have fled bomb-ravaged Kiel, a city on the country’s Baltic coast, and taken shelter at a dairy farm in the countryside. Resources are scarce and conditions are poor, particularly for the refugees around them and the prisoners at the nearby camp.

Luisa’s father brings them supplies from the city when he can. The family is also kept afloat by Vinzent, an ss officer married to Luisa’s and Billie’s half-sister, Gudrun. (That does not stop him from harassing Billie.) Luisa spends her days lost in books, helping out on the farm and visiting a convent where nuns tend to the wounded. Storm clouds soon gather: her makeshift school is bombed in a Spitfire raid and the farmhand she has developed a crush on is recruited as a boy soldier and sent off to war. When she falls victim to a calculated act of violence committed by someone she knows, the cruel blow shatters her trust, transforms her worldview and forces her to grow up fast.

Much like “To Die in Spring”, “The God of that Summer” is a compelling tale of lost innocence. Instead of a main narrative thread, the novel is made up of a series of scenes which show Luisa adapting or reacting to difficult events and situations. The longest episode, which plays out at a lavish birthday party attended by high-ranking Nazis, is a well-executed, tension-packed set-piece that builds to a shocking conclusion.

One of the novel’s strengths is its vividly drawn characters. Some are in denial about Germany’s imminent defeat; others have become disillusioned and cynical. Two characters remain forceful presences throughout: headstrong Billie, who “says what she thinks, lives what she feels and takes what she needs—even if it’s another girl’s boyfriend”; and wide-eyed Luisa, who commands the reader’s sympathy at every turn. If the book lacks its predecessor’s searing depictions of the impact of war, Mr Rothmann compensates with a devastating evocation of civilian hardship and family tragedy. ■