Why Was the Passchendaele Battlefield Such a Nightmare ?— A Roads Classic

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Storm Clouds Gather Over Flanders

How the Participants Described Passchendaele

Had I a descriptive pen I could picture to you the squalor and wretchedness of it all and through it the wonder of the men who carry on. . .A desolate wilderness of water filled with shell craters, and crater after crater whose lips form narrow peninsulas along which one can at best pick a slow and precarious way. Here a shattered tree trunk, there a wrecked 'pill-box', sole remaining evidence that this was once a human and inhabited land. 

Maj. C.E.L. Lyne, Royal Field Artillery

The vast field of shell-holes had been turned into a sea of mud by the heavy rain…Its depths were particularly dangerous in the low-lying ground of the Paddebeek. On my zigzag course I passed many a lonely and forgotten corpse. Often only a head or a hand projected from the shell-hole whose circle of dirty water reflected them. Thousands sleep like that, without one token of love to mark the unknown grave.

Lt. Ernst Jünger, 73th Hanoverian Füsiliers

The shapeless Ridge had lost every tree; . . .flayed and clawed up, (it) was traversed by no (known) likeness. . . Waiting there in the gashed hillside we looked over the befouled fragments of Ypres, the solitary sheet of water, Zillebeke Lake, the completed hopelessness.

Lt. Edmund Blunden, 11th R. Sussex Regiment

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The Source of the Nightmare

The most important factor in turning the campaign into a paradigm of the horrors of war was the unusual weather. That 1917 was unusual is beyond doubt, but it was not so outlandishly strange as to be impossible to contemplate in advance. It was coupled with the particular geology of the region, which was certainly known long before the war, but that again had to be coupled with the new brutality of the artillery barrage. Both in terms of quality and quantity, artillery had been revolutionized since the outbreak of the war, and the combination of these factors produced the fearful conditions on the ground that caused so much hardship and loss.

Martin Marix Evans, Passchendaele: The Hollow Victory

When France Started Pressing for Reparations

Marshal Foch Was Outspoken at the January 1921
Conference with His Reparation Demands

At the end of the First World War, the victorious European powers demanded that Germany compensate them for the devastation wrought by the four-year conflict, for which they held Germany and its allies responsible. Unable to agree upon the amount that Germany should pay at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, the United States, the United Kingdom, France, and the other Allies established a Reparation Commission to settle the question. By 1921 the contentiousness for both the Allies and Germany began reaching crisis levels politically due to demands made at an inter-Allied conference that opened in Paris on 24 January.

In Germany, by the fall of 1920, life was returning to normal, but the war's strain on the economy was apparent. And while unemployment was not a major issue, both the government and business community were anxious for the report of the Reparation Commission—the "butcher's bill"—due in the spring of 1921. Lord D'Abernon, the British ambassador to Berlin, warned the Allies that Germany would not be able to repay.

The Port of Duisburg Occupied by Belgian Troops
in March 1921

Adam Fergusson, historian of the Weimar Republic, describes what ensued:

France would not bend, though. [It was at] the Paris Inter-Allied conference, at the end of January 1921, where France, herself not far from insolvency, began making demands on Germany which D'Abernon described quite simply as 'amazing'. The figures that came out of Paris for German consideration, although nowhere near what the French had demanded, provoked shock in Germany...[By March,] France lost patience with the Germans and, by way of sanctions under the peace treaty, the Rhine ports of Duisburg, Ruhrort, and Dusseldorf were occupied by the Allies.

On 27 April, the commission set the final bill at 132 billion gold marks, approximately $31.5 billion. When Germany defaulted on a payment in January 1923, France and Belgium occupied the Ruhr in an effort to force payment. Instead, they met a government-backed campaign of passive resistance. Inflation in Germany, which had begun to accelerate in 1922, spiraled into hyperinflation. The value of the German currency collapsed; the battle over reparations had reached an impasse. It would be two years before the U.S.-sponsored Dawes and Young Plans would offer a possible solution to these challenges.

Sources: U.S. Department of State Website; When the Money Dies by Adam Fergusson

Recommended: Why WWI Trench Fever Is Reappearing Among the Homeless

Homeless Area, Salem, OR, USA

By Ed Cara
Originally Presented in Gizmodo, 7 December 2020

A disease infamous for sickening soldiers during World War I is popping up again among one of the most vulnerable populations: people struggling with homelessness. In a new case report out this week, doctors detail how a 48-year-old man in Manitoba, Canada, developed a life-threatening heart infection from a bacterial disease known as trench fever. Similar cases have been reported elsewhere in the area, as well as in the U.S. recently.

Trench fever, spread by body lice, is caused by the bacterium Bartonella quintana. Its namesake fever is very distinctive, since it often reappears for five days at a time. Other acute symptoms include rashes, headache, and leg and shin pain.

The disease was first discovered in soldiers during World War I, likely infecting over a million people between 1915 and 1918. This spread was aided by terrible living conditions in the trenches, where nearly all soldiers carried body lice and were forced into cramped quarters. Effective antibiotics were still a decade away from being a reality. Later research has suggested that these bacteria have been infecting humans for at least 400 years.

Though trench fever is rarely fatal by itself, it often sickened soldiers so severely that they became unable to fight for months, and it left some with crippling disabilities. If left untreated, it can also cause endocarditis, a life-threatening inflammation of the heart’s inner lining. Thankfully, it’s now treatable by antibiotics, and the wide use of louse-killing pesticides limited its impact during World War II (the lice connection was confirmed just as World War I came to an end in 1918).

Since the 1990s, however, doctors have been reporting sporadic outbreaks of B. quintana in the homeless population, with some calling for the disease to be renamed as urban trench fever. This new paper, published Monday in the Canadian Medical Association Journal, is one such report.

According to the paper, a 48-year-old man with a history of homelessness visited an emergency room in Manitoba with symptoms of chest pain and shortness of breath. During the 18 months leading up to the visit, he had sought care for repeated bouts of chest pain as well as body lice infestation. He had housing at the time but had been living in a shelter recently.

American Soldiers at a De-Lousing Station in France

Ten hours into his ER visit, the man’s breathing deteriorated and he became dangerously oxygen deprived, necessitating a ventilator and admission to the intensive care unit. Imaging later revealed that two of his heart valves were so severely damaged that they needed to be replaced. Before he was given antibiotics as a precaution, initial tests failed to find any infectious cause of his symptoms. That’s because, unlike many bacteria, Bartonella germs survive by living inside our cells, which makes it harder to detect an infection. Once the doctors performed specialized tests, they discovered the presence of B. quintana in his blood.

Two weeks after his valve replacement surgery, and while continuing antibiotic therapy, the man was discharged from the hospital. Three months later, a followup visit showed that he was still doing well, the doctors wrote.

It’s likely that french Fever is making many people struggling with homelessness sicker than we know. Though the authors could only find four other documented cases of trench fever in Canada prior to their report, they subsequently found three other cases over a six-month period, all of whom had visited the same homeless shelter in Winnipeg recently. Unfortunately, two of these other cases developed lingering neurological complications, including paralysis and aphasia (the loss of language skills), while the third case recovered but needed a heart valve replacement.

This May, doctors in California also reported a local case of a 48-year-old man experiencing homelessness who likely developed trench fever-related endocarditis in 2019. Unfortunately, soon after a valve replacement surgery, the man went into shock and died two days later of cardiac arrest. His initial infection, only confirmed post mortem, may have been contracted through exposure to his pet cats, the authors speculated, since they can also carry Bartonella bacteria (another well-known disease caused by these bacteria is called “cat scratch fever”).

These cases are all the more tragic because trench fever is entirely preventable through delousing and treatable with antibiotics long before it gets to the point where it becomes life threatening. These outbreaks, perhaps more than anything, highlight the lack of resources that many experiencing homelessness continue to face day in and day out.

The authors recommend that people living with homelessness should have more access to treatments for body lice as well as better shelter conditions, if not stable housing altogether. Doctors should also more readily test for trench fever when they see sick patients who have a history of body lice, and more research should be done to confirm how often trench fever is happening among those experiencing homelessness as well.

Addendum

Perhaps the most famous case of  trench fever in the Great War is that of beloved author J.R.R. Tolkien (above).  He contracted the disease while serving as a communications officer with the Lancaster Fusiliers in the Battle of the Somme.  He was sent home to England in November 1916 for care.  Unable to fully shake off its debilitating effects, he spent the rest of war either in hospital or in home service camps, where he did sufficiently well to earn promotion to the rank of lieutenant. His records include  numerous reports made by army medical boards between December 1916 and September 1918 on Tolkien's recovery from trench fever—a slow process punctuated by relapses. Nevertheless, the illness may have saved his life.  Shortly after his medical evacuation, his unit was hit with a massive artillery barrage that killed a number of his fellow officers and men.

Music at War — A Roads Collection

From the Editor:  This is a representative listing, not inclusive of all the articles we have published on this topic in Roads to the Great War. MH

Articles

A Forgotten Wartime Musical Favorite: I Am Coming Back to Kansas

George M. Cohan

Tipperary Lives On

Mark Steyn on Over There

God Bless America: Written During WW1 – But Saved for Another Generation

Remembering a Veteran: Lt. Ralph Vaughan Williams

Roses of Picardy — The Great War's Greatest Ballad

Still Available for Your Own Collection 

Ordering Information Here

Why Does Craonne Have Its Own Song?

Remembering the Veterans: James Reese Europe and the Harlem Hellfighters Band

The Story Behind Harry Lauder's Keep Right on to the End of the Road

Sweetheart of the AEF: Elsie Janis, Doughboy Entertainer

Remembering a Veteran: Soldat Maurice Chevalier, 31st R.I., French Army

Musical Imagery from the Great War

Schroeder and Snoopy's WWI Concert

Reviews

Rites of Spring. The Great War and the Birth of the Modern Age

The Show Must Go On!

A Reminder: To search our archives for other articles on this topic, or to explore other World War One interests of yours, take advantage of the site search engine at the top left corner of every page on Roads to the Great War.

Fighting Airmen of Two World Wars—Part 4 of 4: British and Allied Airmen, Senior Citizens

[Editor's note:  This series has been presented on each of the Thursdays during October 2022. MH]

By Adrian Roberts

Part 1 of this series looked at some German airmen who saw aerial combat in both World Wars. The remaining parts will deal with some well-known Allied airmen. The RAF was stricter than the Germans about the age limits of combat fliers, so the definition of combat in the following examples will be broader.

Part 4 looks at two who were the oldest aircrew of WWII, having also seen aerial action in WWI. It seems that the British were less strict about age if you had the right connections!

 

William Wedgewood Benn was born in 1877, and was a high-achiever. Although his family were politically active and reasonably affluent, he was not a member of the Eton/Oxbridge Establishment, but he nevertheless became a Liberal Member of Parliament (MP) at the age of 29. 

He was also a captain in a Territorial Army unit, and although aged 37 at the outbreak of WWI, and remaining an MP throughout, he volunteered for military service overseas, and served as a staff officer at Gallipoli. He managed to get trained as an air observer with the Royal Naval Air Service, and was posted to the seaplane carrier HMS Ben-My-Chree. He made many flights over Turkish-held territory in Short 184 seaplanes, and also re-organised the intelligence system for processing information gained from the flights. He was wounded in the foot by ground fire on one occasion. 

In 1917 he trained as a pilot, acting as a liaison officer with the Italian air service and flew on several bombing raids over the Alps, and also flew the first aeroplane to drop an agent by parachute at night. After the war he continued his political career, joining the Labour Party in 1924; he was Secretary of State for India from 1929–31 and was created Viscount Stansgate in 1942. 

He served again with the RAF in WWII, in the rank of air commodore and was head of RAF public relations from 1942–43. Around that time, at the age of about 65, he flew on several bomber operations as an air gunner. He was secretary of state for air in the Attlee administration from 1945–46. He died in 1958. His eldest son, Michael, was killed in a Mosquito crash during the war; his second son was the Labour MP and Cabinet Minister Anthony “Tony” Wedgewood Benn. 

However, he may not have been the oldest person to fly in action in WWII. I don’t have the exact dates for their operations, but there is another candidate for that honor:

 

Lionel Cohen, known as “Sos,” was two years older than Wedgewood Benn. Shown at the right in this pre-mission WWII photo, he fought in four wars! He was born in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in the north of England, and the family moved to London when he was about 12. He enlisted in the Royal Marines at the age of 14, lying about his age, and it was three months before his family retrieved him. They packed him off to his uncle in South Africa, and he joined up again aged 18 and fought in the Matabele War of 1893, in what is now Zimbabwe. 

He remained in Africa for another 30 years, seeing much adventure and gaining and losing several fortunes in mining and speculation. During the South African War of 1899–1902, he led several of what would today be called special operations in Boer territory, and a Boer general ordered that if he was captured he should be covered in honey and buried in an ant-hill. 

During the First World War, he joined the South African Horse, aged 40, and took part in the campaign in East Africa against the forces of German General von Lettow-Vorbeck; again he led operations deep in enemy territory. In 1916, the Royal Naval Air Service provided some basic aerial observation capability, using Voisin and BE2c aeroplanes that were obsolete on the Western Front. Cohen was attached to the RNAS as an observer and became highly regarded. There was no aerial opposition, but when one aircraft force-landed, the crew were killed by native Askari troops loyal to von Lettow-Vorbeck. 

Cohen returned to England in the 1920s, and having made influential contacts, formed the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve in 1937, providing a vital pool of extra aircrew when WW2 started. Cohen flew several operations as an air gunner with Coastal Command, with the rank of Wing Commander, being wounded in the head during an attack on the cruiser Lutzow, and on another occasion becoming so cold that he had to be prised out of his turret on landing. He was certainly the oldest recipient of the Distinguished Flying Cross, in 1944 aged 69, and was also awarded the American Air Operations Medal. He died in 1960 aged 85.

Photos from author's collection (Benn) and A Dash of Courage: A Tribute to P/O Charles Grevill-Heygate DFC (Cohen)

The YMCA Service Song Book

The  Service Song Book was distributed by the YMCA to almost all the U.S. service men of the First World War. Its author (or maybe better stated–"compiler"),  Clarence Augustus Barbour, was an American Baptist clergyman and educator most notable for having served as the president of Brown University. Seventy-four songs, Christian hymns, patriotic and traditional pieces, and—in the 1918 abridged version shown here—some of the most popular of the new wartime tunes, are included. 

Rev. Barbour

The Service Song Book, though,  contains more than song lyrics.  For moral guidance, there is a section of scriptural quotes from both the Old and New Testaments,  a few standard prayers used by most Christian denominations, plus a section of new and specific poems for those going into harm's way, their supporters, and families at home, written by theologians Edward Bosworth and Walter Rauschenbusch.  This last group of prayers includes such titles as "For Soldiers Going Into Battle,"  "Against Alcoholism," and "For Doctor and Nurses."  Here are some sample pages from the booklet. Click on the images to enlarge them.

Thanks to Mike and Donna Pal Cynthia Gross for contributing this item.

Gallipoli Sniper: The Remarkable Life of Billy Sing

By John Hamilton

Pen & Sword Military, 2022

David F. Beer, Reviewer

Private William Edward Sing, DCM

There is a champion sniper in the 5th Regiment called Sing. He is a half-bred Chinaman and has shot 119 Turks since we have been here. He spends all day and every day in a sniping position with a telescope and rifle and if they show their heads at all, he has them. He says- “the silly fellows will put their heads up.” 

Commanding Officer, 2nd Australian Light Horse Brigade. (vi)

From 1901 Australia maintained a "White Australians Only" policy aimed at limiting or keeping out Asian immigrants. This policy only ended in the 1970s. Billy Sing, the son of an English mother and Chinese father, experienced some limited discrimination while growing up but was able to fully participle in national pastimes such as cricket and shooting contests. The first part of this book touches on Billy’s youth but is particularly interesting in describing in detail both Australian society at the time and how the nation organized and efficiently built up its military for war. Author John Hamilton’s research in these matters is impressive.

Over 8,100 Australians died on Gallipoli and it would appear almost all of them were eager to join the fray. Australia was a proud part of the British Empire, and any war Britain was involved in immediately concerned Australia. Hostilities were declared on the night of 4 August in London—9 a.m. on 5 August in eastern Australia—and a “mood of euphoria swept Australia as the news quickly spread through extra editions of the newspapers, which were published at lunchtime that day” (p. 44). The Brisbane Courier did not let the nation down. On that first day the paper’s headlines trumpeted THE WAR CLOUDS BURST; GREAT BRITAIN AND THE DOMINIONS TO ARMS. In the cities within a week “patriotic meetings were held and would-be soldiers stepped forward immediately” (p. 45).

Soon the news reached even the most distant parts of the country and volunteers streamed into their nearest recruiting centers. Remote bush farmers, drovers, shearers, jackaroos, miners, cane cutters, and others soon answered the call. A part-time militia known as the Light Horse Brigade had already been formed in New South Wales and Queensland in the early 1900s, and with the outbreak of war in 1914, the brigade became part of the newly formed Australian Imperial Force. Thus, Australia became ready for the war, and Billy Sing’s destiny drew closer.

Australian Sniping Team, Lone Pine, Gallipoli

Billy was already a crack marksman when the army sent him to Gallipoli. This, together with the training he received in concealment and observation, combined to make him in the author’s words “a lethal killing machine” (p. 126). In addition to the dreadful conditions the men had to put up with on Gallipoli (I highly recommend the Facebook page “Gallipoli 1915” on this), Billy had to accommodate himself to what amounted to a “loophole war.” I had never realized this before, but much of a sniper’s shooting was done through a loophole in his own trench or camouflaged spot—and frequently into the loophole of the enemy’s trench. The saga between Billy and the Turk master sniper Abdul the Terrible is described over several pages as a merciless hunting adventure.

When Billy was evacuated from Gallipoli due to illness he purportedly had over 200 "kills" to his credit. He was to go on to further action on the Western Front, where he received a medal for his service. After the war he was not so successful, and he was to die a lonely and impoverished death in a Brisbane boarding house in 1943 (p. 225). Only in 1993 was a plaque erected on the site, commemorating his life and service. The latter half of this book goes into considerable details regarding Billy’s later life. We should be grateful to author John Hamilton for unearthing so much detailed information and relevant photos about Australia and one of its noted (but then forgotten) soldiers.

David F. Beer

Stallupönen: First Battle on the Eastern Front

Key Commander of the Battle
General Hermann von François

The Battle of Stallupönen was the first military action on the Eastern Front during the First World War. The First Russian Army, led by General Paul von Rennenkampf, met on the battlefield the First Corps of the Eighth German Army, led by Hermann von Francois.

It was fought on 17 August 1914 shortly after hostilities had  been declared. The Russian Imperial Army did not wait too long and advanced on Eastern Prussia. At the border between the Russian Empire and Germany, the Russian general of German origin, von Rennenkampf, led the first offensive, with the goal of conquering the capital of Eastern Prussia, the city of Konigsberg. What the Russians did not know was  that the Germans had prepared a defensive front in the east while concentrating most of the troops in the west to force France out of the war as soon as possible.

Opening Moves of the East Prussia Campaign

Much of Germany's Eighth Army was organized in a defensive line south of Gumbinnen, 32 km west of the Russian border. Small units were however sent to protect railroads and fortifications. They were ordered to withdraw if they came into contact with the enemy, re-establishing with their main force at Gumbinnen. In the first five days of war, there were only minor clashes with Rennenkampf’s cavalry, which carried out reconnaissance missions along the border.

The invasion of East Prussia began in earnest on 17 August, when Rennenkampf led his troops westward toward enemy lines. Without any orders from his superiors, German General  Hermann von François, commander of  I Corps of the Eighth Army  decided to take his forces to Stallupönen, where a Russian division was resting. General Maximilian von Prittwitz, nervously eying the advance of the Russian left wing far to the south, ordered von François to retreat .

François, reluctant to surrender any of his beloved Prussia, and naturally pugnacious, also felt breaking off while engaged would be deadly, so he ignored Prittwitz's order, responding with the famous reply "General von François will withdraw when he has defeated the Russians!"

German Artillery Firing During the Battle

The frontal attack ripped through the Russian division, which retreated eastward, leaving behind 5.000 dead and wounded and 3.000 prisoners, almost the entire 105 Russian regiment.  As the Russians retreated to the border to heal the wounded, von Francois eventually complied with Prittwitz’s order and withdrew 20 km westward, occupying a position around Gumbinnen.

Von Prittwitz then had to make a decision as to whether he would remain in his position between Angerbmg and Kraupischken or whether he would advance to attack the enemy and so give up the advantages of his prepared position. . . If he remained in his position he would have to order his I Corps back from the vicinity of Gumbinnen or to move the remainder of his Eighth Army up into line with it. Von Francois, urged the Army Commander to carry out the latter course, and von Prittwitz acquiesced. Von Francois then issued orders for an attack on 20 August. The ensuing Battle of Gumbinnen. would be mismanaged by the German senior command and almost accidentally deliver a strategical success to the Russians, their first victory of the war. 

Von Prittwitz evidently considered that his position on  the evening of 20 August was hopeless. He appears to have been overwhelmed by the information that the Second Russian Army was advancing from the south. He did not sufficiently realise that the Russians had had heavy casualties and. that on his northern flank his I Corps was doing well. There was no justification for his order at the end of the battle of Gumbinnen for a general retirement behind the River Vistula. This contemplated withdrawal of 150 miles would have had a most demoralising effect on the German nation as well as on the Eighth German Army. On 21 August von Prittwitz was dismissed from his command.  On 22 August Ludendorff became Chief of the Staff to Hindenburg, who was appointed commander-in-chief in East Prussia.  Tannenberg lay just ahead.

Sources: Euronews; Europe Centenary, 30 October 2018; A Study of the Strategy and Tactics of the East Prussian Campaign, 1914, Lt. Col. A. Kearsey, DSO, OBE

Cold on the Somme: Winter 1916-17

Christmas Meal on the Somme, 1916

After the close of the Battle of the Somme in November 1916, the men on the Western Front dug in for the coming winter. That year, it proved to be exceptionally cold. All those who lived through the winter of 1916–17 had memories of the bitterly freezing conditions.

The severe cold tested the troops’ morale, as Victor Fagence, a private in the Royal West Surrey Regiment, discovered.

The winter of 1916-17 was notoriously a very, very cold winter. And for my part, I think I almost in my own mind then tasted the depths of misery really, what with the cold and all that sort of thing, you see. We were forbidden to take our footwear off in the front line. Although, I myself disobeyed that on one occasion. I was so cold when I came off sentry go, and we had a bit of a dugout to shelter in, when I went in there – this was before leather jerkins were issued – there was an issue of sheepskin coats. And I took my gumboots off and wrapped my feet in the sheepskin coat to get a bit of extra, you know, to warm them up a bit.

The icy weather made life during the day miserable—but the drop in temperature at night was even worse. Near 40th Division’s forward headquarters, British artillery officer Murray Rymer-Jones found an unusual way to cope with it.

Now, for our own comfort, to be in a tent with snow on the ground and the appalling cold was nobody’s business. You couldn’t have heating in the tents, you see. So the only thing I could do then was, we had a double loo heavily sandbagged all round in the entrance, you see, it was like little rooms. And although there was no connection between the two, you could talk to the chap next door! So Hammond, from another battery who came and joined us for a bit then, he and I used to sit in the loo most of the night – because it was so heavily sandbagged it kept it reasonably warm – and talked!

For the men who faced the winter in kilts, exposure to the bitter weather was unbearable. NCO J Reid served with the Gordon Highlanders.

We went up with these casuals and joined the battalion; the 6th battalion again, joined the battalion at a place called… I can’t remember the name of the place now. The battalion was made up to strength, anyway. And a couple of days after, we was on the march. It was the month of January, dead cold. Oh, God it was cold. We were going up to Arras which was about 30 km – 30, 40 km – from this place. We marched and I always remember that. Our knees were even frozen up, you know, with the usual field bandages to wrap up our knees and all up our legs to keep the frost from biting into our legs, our bare legs.

Lone German Sentry, Winter, 1916–17

It wasn’t just the cold that made winter on the Western Front so difficult to endure. Flooded trenches were also a feature of life there, something which Harold Moore of the Essex Regiment found out to his cost.

The communications trenches were half full of water and they had to have these duckboards on the side of the trench to walk up to the front line. You had to come up, file up in single line, single file. And as we was going up to the line there was a fellow in front of me, he was a machine-gunner and he’d got two buckets of these circular ammunition what he used for his Lewis gun. He stopped for a moment, you know, cos they were heavy! I said, ‘I want to get by cos I’ve got to get up to the front line.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you must wait; I can’t go any further for the moment.’ Well then I tried to get round the side of him and, as I did so, he just gave a heave of this bucket and it knocked me in the shell holes full of water.

The waterlogged ground meant the men soon found themselves in extremely muddy conditions. Andrew Bain of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders described the dangers of such an environment.

Mud and cold. Oh, for weeks we were up to the thighs in mud. And if we were moving forward to the trenches, many of the shell holes were filled up with muddy clay. And if a man fell into that he couldn’t get out. And they were simply drowned in mud. There was nothing could be done about it.

Because of the abnormally cold conditions that swept the Western Front that winter, the ground froze solid. This turned out to be lucky for officer George Jameson, who was based near Aubers Ridge.

I had gone over to a position on the ridge where I could observe one day and, as I say, the ground was iron hard. I was walking back and a gun started to fire. I suddenly heard this swish and I could tell by the very sound of it I could tell it was coming fairly near to me. Suddenly, there was a burst away to my right and I thought, ‘Well thank goodness for that, plod on chaps.’ I kept going on and suddenly the gun fired again, another one; it had changed its angle a bit and I heard this thing. It sounded as though it was coming extremely close. I hadn’t time to do anything. Just suddenly quite by my side there was this [noise] and, about 150 yards beyond me, the shell burst. What had happened, the ground was so hard that the shell had just glisséed on the surface, you see. It struck within about a yard to the right-hand side of me as I was walking and then went on and in the air, about 150 yards beyond, it burst. Now, if that had been soft I’d have had that. That’s the kind of thing that happened. Not me this time chaps, on, on!

British Troops at Beaumont Hamel, Winter 1916–17

It wasn’t just the cold that made winter on the Western Front so difficult to endure. Flooded trenches were also a feature of life there, something which Harold Moore of the Essex Regiment found out to his cost.

The communications trenches were half full of water and they had to have these duckboards on the side of the trench to walk up to the front line. You had to come up, file up in single line, single file. And as we was going up to the line there was a fellow in front of me, he was a machine-gunner and he’d got two buckets of these circular ammunition what he used for his Lewis gun. He stopped for a moment, you know, cos they were heavy! I said, ‘I want to get by cos I’ve got to get up to the front line.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you must wait; I can’t go any further for the moment.’ Well then I tried to get round the side of him and, as I did so, he just gave a heave of this bucket and it knocked me in the shell holes full of water.

The waterlogged ground meant the men soon found themselves in extremely muddy conditions. Andrew Bain of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders described the dangers of such an environment.

Mud and cold. Oh, for weeks we were up to the thighs in mud. And if we were moving forward to the trenches, many of the shell holes were filled up with muddy clay. And if a man fell into that he couldn’t get out. And they were simply drowned in mud. There was nothing could be done about it.

Because of the abnormally cold conditions that swept the Western Front that winter, the ground froze solid. This turned out to be lucky for officer George Jameson, who was based near Aubers Ridge.

I had gone over to a position on the ridge where I could observe one day and, as I say, the ground was iron hard. I was walking back and a gun started to fire. I suddenly heard this swish and I could tell by the very sound of it I could tell it was coming fairly near to me. Suddenly, there was a burst away to my right and I thought, ‘Well thank goodness for that, plod on chaps.’ I kept going on and suddenly the gun fired again, another one; it had changed its angle a bit and I heard this thing. It sounded as though it was coming extremely close. I hadn’t time to do anything. Just suddenly quite by my side there was this [noise] and, about 150 yards beyond me, the shell burst. What had happened, the ground was so hard that the shell had just glisséed on the surface, you see. It struck within about a yard to the right-hand side of me as I was walking and then went on and in the air, about 150 yards beyond, it burst. Now, if that had been soft I’d have had that. That’s the kind of thing that happened. Not me this time chaps, on, on!

Source: The Imperial War Museum Archives

Prisoners of War Exhibit at the National World War One Museum

On 28 October 2022,  the National World War Museum at Kansas City, MO, will open a special show titled Captured. Below are some examples of the specimens they will be sharing from their own and contributing collections. They describe the intention of their program:

During four brutal years of the Great War, nearly 9 million people were held as prisoners of war at some point during the conflict. From the shores of Southeast Asia and the Siberian tundra, to mere miles from the Western Front, they were imprisoned the world over – by both sides. Seldom told, their experiences are some of the most common during the Great War.  

Captured delves into the stories of life behind the wire: relationships among the prisoners and between the prisoners and their captors, a complex and unique dynamic of mundane daily life and the arduous conditions of captivity. Bound together by suffering and uncertainty, many prisoners and guards were encountering people of different races, religions, languages and cultures for the first time. This exhibition explores how their relationships sustained hope – on both sides of the barbed wire – amid bleak and uncertain circumstances.

French poster promoting a musical gala
to benefit Romanian prisoners of war.

French colonial soldiers held in the Zossen-Wunsdorf
POW camp in Germany

Coat of Russian POW

Handmade violin by German soldier August Christian Voigt while he was a prisoner of war of the French.

One Camp Held African, Russian, Belgian,
French, British, and Asian Prisoners

Watercolor by Curtiney George Foote of
American POWs cleaning a street.

Austro-Hungarian POWs standing behind a
barbed wire fence

Turkish POW Souvenir Belt

Oil portrait painting of 1st Lieutenant Louis
M. Edens in full uniform. The painting was done
by a Russian prisoner of war (name unknown)
while Edens was a POW in the German camp
in Villengens, Baden, Germany.

Propaganda at War — A Roads Collection

George Creel, America's Leading Propagandist

From the Editor:  This is a representative listing, not inclusive of all the articles we have published on this topic in Roads to the Great War. MH

Articles

Extreme Propaganda on the Allied Side: Kultur Cartoons by Will Dyson with Foreword by H.G. Wells

What Was Going on at Wellington House?

WWI Atrocity Propaganda and Its Legacy

The British Authors' Declaration of 1914

George Creel: Selling The War

Rudyard Kipling's Views on War Propaganda

An Unforgettable Russian Propaganda Poster

Anti-German Postcard

Le Courrier de l'Air

How WWI Food Propaganda Changed the Way We Eat Today

 The Psychology of War Posters

Lusitania Propaganda Posters

Who Was Sir Hall Caine?

A Provocative and Amusing Bit of Propaganda

Reviews

The Secret War Council: The German Fight Against the Entente in America in 1914

The Zeppelin Offensive: A German Perspective in Pictures & Postcards

A Reminder: To search our archives for other articles on this topic, or to explore other World War One interests of yours, take advantage of the site search engine at the top left corner of every page on Roads to the Great War.

Fighting Airmen of Two World Wars—Part 3 of 4: British and Allied Airmen – Bombers

[Editor's note:  This series is being presented on each of the Thursdays during October 2022. MH]

By Adrian Roberts

Part 1 of this series looked at some German Airmen who saw aerial combat in both World Wars. The remaining parts will deal with some well-known Allied airmen. The RAF was stricter than the Germans about the age limits of combat fliers, so the definition of combat in the following examples will be broader.

Part 3 looks mainly at some who were associated with bombers.

William Staton (left in photo) was a large extrovert who was nicknamed “Bull”, and later “King Kong.” He was born in 1898 and flew Bristol F2B Fighters (two-seaters) with 62 Squadron in 1918, becoming an ace with 26 victories, including possibly the first victory of the RAF after it’s formation on 1 April 1918. He remained in the RAF, specializing in flying boats for several years, and at the outbreak of WWII, he was commanding 10 Squadron flying Whitley bombers. He led some of the first air raids on German territory, and realizing the lack of accuracy started to formulate the ideas that led to the Pathfinder force. He was then posted to the Far East as an acting group captain, and was taken prisoner by the Japanese when they over-ran Java. He was severely punished for resisting interrogation, and had all his teeth pulled out. He managed to survive captivity and retired as an air vice-marshal. He captained the British shooting teams in the 1948 and 1952 Olympics. He died in 1983.

Benjamin Silly was born in 1893 in Australia and worked in Switzerland before the war. After serving in the Royal Fusiliers and the Royal Artillery he joined the RFC, and after training joined 55 Squadron flying DH4 bombers in daylight raids over Germany. He progressed to flight commander and then CO of the squadron by the end of the war. 

He was a Group Captain by the start of WWII and was appointed senior air staff officer in Singapore. After the fall of Singapore to the Japanese in February 1942 he was evacuated to Java, promoted to acting air commodore, and given the impossible task of organizing the onward evacuation of 12,000 men to Australia. When Java was over-run, he had the opportunity to escape but chose to stay with his men, and was taken prisoner. He died in Japanese captivity on 7 December 1943 and is buried at Sai Wan War Cemetery, Hong Kong.

Ronald Ivelaw-Chapman was probably the only RAF officer whom Winston Churchill ordered to be shot on sight. Born in January 1899, by the last few months of WWI he was flying Armstrong-Whitworth FK8 artillery observation aircraft with 10 Squadron in France, aged only 19. He gained a permanent commission in the RAF after the war, being involved in the evacuation of Kabul in 1928. This was neither the first nor the last evacuation of that city by the British, but it was the first time that a major evacuation was carried out anywhere by air; 512 civilians were evacuated by three aircraft none of which could take more than ten adults at a time, with no casualties.

He held several staff positions during WW2. For several months of 1943 he was involved in planning for the invasion of France. He was then, as an air commodore, station commander of the bomber base at Elsham Wolds. On the 7 May 1944, he flew on an operation accompanying the crew of a Lancaster. The aircraft was shot down by a night fighter, and he and the radio operator were the only crew able to bale out. He had been given permission to make this flight, but Churchill was furious when he heard that a senior officer with knowledge of the invasion plans could be in German hands and ordered that he be killed by the French Resistance rather than risk interrogation by the Germans. Ivelaw-Chapman was indeed hidden by the Resistance, but the command never got through, or at least was not acted on. By the time the Germans captured him, the invasion was under way. He returned to Britain after the war, and as far as he knew, the order was never rescinded. However, it didn’t do his career any harm; he became vice-chief of the Air Staff, and retired in the four-star rank of air chief marshal. Like Stanley Vincent, he was a pioneer of the movement to preserve WWII aircraft; the photo shows him in a postwar photo-reconnaissance Spitfire. He died in 1978.

Maurice Arnoux, a French pilot, was the only non-German and non-English example that I have been able to find. Born in 1895, after flying Farman two-seaters, he became a scout pilot with Escadrille N49, renamed Spa49 after replacing Nieuports with SPADs. He was credited with five victories including two balloons, and awarded the Croix de Guerre. Between the wars he was a noted racing and test-pilot, mainly in light aircraft, winning several races and setting records including an altitude of over 25,000 feet in a light aircraft in 1937. It seems that he returned to flying fighters in WWII, but was killed in action on 6 June 1940. I can find no more details about his death, even whether it was definitely in the air rather than on the ground. Most website references to him are word-for-word copies of Wikipedia! If anyone has any more information, maybe from French-language sources, I would be interested to know.