Affluence on the Eve of War: Europe's Booming Economy

A Selection from: Volker R. Berghahn, Europe in the Era of Two World Wars, 2005

Berlin, 1912 by Paul Hoeniger

From 1895, the world economy entered a boom period that, with a few short recessions, lasted until just before World War I.

Here are a few statistics relating to Europe’s basic industries on which the prosperity of the new branches could be built. These figures also reflect the changing economic balances between the nations that were also affected by the dynamics of industrial expansion. In Britain, then the leading industrial country, annual iron production reached 6.5 million tons in the early 1870s, four times that of Germany (1.6 million tons) and more than five times that of France (1.2 million tons), with Russia trailing far behind at a level of 375,000 tons. By 1913 annual production of the German empire had not only increased almost tenfold (14.8 million tons), but it had also overtaken that of Britain (9.8 million tons). France’s production had grown fourfold, but with 4.7 million tons the country was not that far ahead of Russia (3.9 million tons). As to coal mining, Britain was able to double its production between 1880 and 1913 and thus retain its lead over Germany (191 million tons, plus 87.5 million tons of lignite). In annual steel production, however, there was a marked change. In 1890, Britain was still well ahead of Germany (3.6 millions tons versus 2.2 million). In 1913, however, the Germans outproduced the British by a factor of three (18.6 million versus 6.9 million).

The expansion of industry—especially after 1895—left agriculture well behind. Thanks to rapid population growth, demand for agricultural produce rose in most regions of Europe, but farming was no longer as profitable as it had been in the 1850s and 1860s. In the years before 1914, the largest gains could be made in the industrial and commercial sectors. Agriculture fell behind. This development is reflected in the migratory patterns from the rural parts to the urban centers and the momentous growth of the industrial cities. They attracted millions of workers who were hoping to find a better life than their current one as land laborers on the large estates in East Prussia, Italy, and Ireland, or as smallholders on farmsteads that could barely support a family. Millions more Europeans emigrated to North America and other parts of the world.

Finally, the rapid expansion of domestic and foreign trade has to be considered. The volume of European exports doubled between 1870 and 1900 and (except for two brief recessions in 1900–1901 and 1907–1908) followed an upward trend. By 1913, two-thirds of trade took place among the nations of Europe. Some 13 percent of all goods went to North America. Import and export figures doubled and trebled. Africa and Asia participated in this internationalization of the world economy to the tune of 15 percent.

However, as will be seen when we look more closely at the age of imperialism and colonialism, the terms of trade with the European powers were extremely unfavorable and largely imposed by the metropolitan countries, often accompanied by ruthless methods of political domination. However much Europe as a whole benefited from the dynamic expansion of its industries and its global trading relations, the gains were very unevenly distributed among the domestic populations. It was above all the industrial and commercial bourgeoisie that was able to accumulate wealth. Their lifestyles and urban residences began to compete with those of the nobility, especially at the many smaller courts of Central Europe. There is the description of the British prime minister William Gladstone, who was quite used to the splendor of British upper-class social life in London. 

Having attended a party at the residence of the Berlin private banker Gerson Bleichroeder, he gave the following description of what he had seen: “The banqueting hall, very vast and very lofty, and indeed the whole mansion is built of every species of rare marble, and where it is not marble it is gold. There was a gallery for the musicians who played Wagner, and Wagner only, which I was very glad of, as I have rarely had the opportunity of hearing that master. After dinner, we were promenaded through the splendid saloons—and picture galleries, and the ball-room fit for a fairy-tale, and sitting alone on the sofa was a very mean-looking little woman, covered with pearls and diamonds, who was Madame Bleichroeder and whom he had married very early in life when he was penniless. She was unlike her husband, and by no means equal to her wondrous fortune.”

In comparison to the wealth of the upper-middle classes, the circumstances of the working class were, to be sure, much more modest. Still, in most European countries living standards were also rising among these strata. Many families could not only afford better nutrition and hygiene but were increasingly able to enjoy pleasures of the “little man,” such as tobacco and beer. Wages gradually rose and work hours in industry and commerce were slowly reduced from twelve to eleven or ten. This meant that many men and women, who had escaped the much more restrictive routines of labor in agriculture, gained more leisure time. There was more time to socialize with family and friends that was also reflected in the expansion of associational life. Ultimately, there was hardly a hobby in pre-1914 Europe that people could not pursue within an association or club in conjunction with like-minded people. In this sense, the currently much debated idea of a civil society may be said to have been fully developed well before World War I. . .

The prosperity of the pre-1914 years stimulated other leisure activities: shopping and window shopping. While in the provinces shopping continued to be primarily the purchase of daily provisions and other goods in small specialized corner shops—at the same time an important means of local communication among neighbors—cities also had large department stores. These “palaces of consumption” used attractive displays and invited anonymous buying of often mass-produced clothes off the peg and household goods; or, during sales, they encouraged wandering in the aisles in search of bargain. What was offered here at affordable prices was linked to another phenomenon that spread in the prewar years: rationalized factory production and the increasingly cunning marketing of cheap goods, particularly in the department stores.

Bringing the AEF Home

Naval historians of the First World War tend to gravitate toward great battles such as Jutland and the ferociously frustrating Dardanelles campaign, but these dramatic naval and littoral actions had nothing to do with the U.S. Navy's most decisive contribution to the war—delivering the two-million-man American Expeditionary Force (AEF) to Europe. By this time 100 years ago, what was then known as the Great War had been over for months, but many of the American soldiers and marines who fought its final, bloody campaigns were still coming home.

Although many different kinds of American surface combatants played important roles in containing the German submarine threat and saving Great Britain from potential starvation, the U.S. Atlantic Fleet's Cruiser and Transport Force, consisting of 45,000 U.S. naval personnel manning 24 cruisers and 42 transport vessels (many of which were German passenger liners confiscated after the American entry into the war) put an entire American army across the Atlantic, a feat inconceivable to European leaders on all sides of the conflict before the Navy actually accomplished it.

Troops of the AEF Arriving Home

Even after American troops irrevocably tipped the balance against Germany and the Central Powers and the war was ostensibly over, the Navy had much more to do. Even battleships and cruisers were pressed into the effort to bring home the soldiers and marines as quickly as possible, an effort which stretched into the summer of 1919.

"After the signing of the Armistice," wrote Vice-Admiral Albert Gleaves, Cruiser and Transport Force commander, "the United States Transport Fleet expanded still more, and developed into a fleet of 149 ships manned by 4,238 officers and 59,030 men, with the gratifying result that 86.7 per cent[sic] of our overseas army was brought home under the Stars and Stripes."

From The Hampton Roads Naval Museum article: "One Century Ago: Bringing 'Em Back after the Navy Put 'Em Across"

The Importance of Fictional Works About the War, Part II of III

You can't get at the truth by history; you can only get it through novels.

Gerald Brenan, MC

By Jane Mattison Ekstam

Writers of fiction are not concerned primarily with factual accuracy but with depicting emotional truths. History books often tell the wider, national story, the course and results of major battles, the development of technology, and the state of the nation. Fiction, though, brings the individual to the fore. As Richard Holmes observes, history books "often lose sight of the men who actually fought the war" (Tommy, the British Soldier on the Western Front, pp. xxiii). In the final novel of Anne Perry's popular World War One quintet, for example, her character Schenckendorff observes, "Individuals matter . . . [their] moments of joy, a man's victory over the darkness within himself, a perception of beauty, whether it is of the eye or the mind" (We Shall Not Sleep, p. 236). Schenckendorff's observation suggests the major reasons why novels on World War One should be regarded as invaluable complements to documentary accounts of the war.

As Robert L. O'Connell argues, "The shock induced by the Great War was sufficient to cause a radical disjunction between thought and action, a schism of fundamental significance not just for the future of warfare but also in determining the context for the whole complex of economic, technological and political changes that were transforming human existence" (Ride of the Second Horseman. The Birth and Death of War, p. 236). World War One created a crisis of the spirit and called into question the basic direction of Western civilization (Robert L. O'Connell, Of Arms and Men. A History of War, Weapons and Aggression, p. 242). This crisis begs several questions: What defines a civilized society?

How could the qualities of civilization be maintained in time of war? Does war necessarily give rise to a new set of values? What happens to the individual in a crisis of the spirit? War is "the other side" of existence, where there is neither time nor place for all. The first few weeks of World War One saw the death of prewar innocence. Dreams of bravery, patriotism, or pure adventure were replaced by the harsh reality of the battlefield and the casualty station. Few if any were prepared for what they were to see and experience. The narrator of David Malouf's novel Fly Away Peter (1999) describes the situation as follows: "Jim saw that he had been living, till he came here, in a state of dangerous innocence. The world when you looked from both sides was quite other than a placid, slow moving dream, without change of climate or color and with time and place for all. He had been blind" (p. 107). Innocence is dangerous because it leads to false expectations. 

What determines survival is a mixture of luck, skill, strong and reliable comrades, and a trust in something that transcends the present situation; the latter may take the form of a code of values, a philosophy or religious belief. While most veterans in their firsthand accounts of battle have difficulty articulating such systems, the conventions of the novel allow a deeper exploration into essential human matters. The majority of the actors in World War One were pawns in a game whose rules were set and interpreted by others. Apart from a few commanding officers and officials, there were few who had any insight into the causes and course of the war or any influence over their own destiny. The chances of being killed or wounded were extremely high at all levels and in all positions. Survival depended on a degree of luck and on finding a means by which to cope with the chaos, destruction, and futility of the battlefield.

World War One novelists share a fundamental assumption that "art is capable of reproducing a more complex and more deeply felt reality than is possible through a documentary insistence on factuality" (Evelyn Cobley, Representing War. Form and Ideology in First World War Narratives, p. 12). Novelists make no pretence at providing objective, detailed, or coherent descriptions of a particular battle or period of the war; neither do they argue for a specific view or interpretation of the war, as do many of the accounts of survivors. Instead, they provide flashes of reality, intense in their detail and subjective in their insights. They reproduce something of the immediacy of the photograph, where the lens is trained on one or just a few individuals at a specific point in time and in a restricted context.

No representation of the war experience is able to reproduce reality as such. However documentary or autobiographical an account may be, it will only ever be one war story among other war stories, since reality can be inaccessible and even un-nameable. There is often no vocabulary for some of the horrors that took place; these remained locked in the memories of those taking part, and have died with them. Not even the memoirs or autobiographies of participants in World War One can make the complex, multilayered experience of war accessible.

Novels do not offer analyses or explanations, but they do engage the attentive reader in a process of negotiation between reader and text which provides important insights into methods of survival in the face of profound destruction. It is for this reason that Gerald Brenan, MC, author of The Spanish Labyrinth, could tell the historian Sir Raymond Carr: "You can't get at the truth by history; you can only get it through novels" (Facing Armageddon, p. 805).

End of Part II.  Part III will be presented on Roads to the Great War on Tuesday 9 June 2020. Part I was our entry on 2 June 2020.

Source: Originally presented in the Winter 2010 issue of Relevance: Quarterly Journal of the Great War Society

When Canada's Unknown Soldier Returned Home

Detail: Canadian War Memorial, Ottawa

On 28 May 2000, a  long-lost son of Canada returned home for a national wake and a military funeral. An Unknown Soldier, buried in France for more than 80 years, was interred at the foot of the nation's war memorial.

Entrance to Caberet Rouge Cemetery

"Dear God, we receive the remains of Canada's Unknown Soldier as a holy trust," Brig. Gen. Murray Farwell, the chaplain general, said in a prayer when the remains were placed in Canadian care. The soldier had been buried under a gravestone bearing a maple leaf and the inscription "Known Unto God" at the Cabaret Rouge Commonwealth Cemetery at Souchez, France, located midway between Vimy Ridge and the massive French cemetery at Notre Dame de Lorette.

Replacement Marker at the Original Grave Site

On Sunday 28 May, he was borne through the streets of Ottawa on a century-old gun carriage drawn by four black RCMP horses. Honor guards with rifles reversed in mourning marched in front to the slow beat of drums muffled by black cloth. Minute guns boomed 21 times as the procession moved between lines of silent onlookers.

Hundreds of veterans stood by the monument as the pallbearers—army, navy, air force, and Mounties—positioned the silver maple coffin over the hand-hewn Caledonian granite sarcophagus. It was draped in the maple leaf flag that this soldier never knew, a flag which, without him and his comrades, might never have been.

The National War Memorial

Brig. Gen. Murray Farwell, the Roman Catholic chaplain general, conducted the non-denominational service. He read from the 23rd Psalm, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want" and recited the words of Ecclesiastes, "To every thing, there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." 

Buglers from the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry sounded the "Last Post," the silver notes echoing and re-echoing over the square. After two minutes of silence, a lone piper skirled "Lament for the Unknown Soldier" and four CF-18 fighter-bombers screamed overhead, one pulling up and away to leave a gap in the "missing man formation."

Internment, 28 May 2000

Paul Metivier, a 100-year-old First World War vet and Ernest "Smoky" Smith, a Victoria Cross recipient of the Second World War, read the simple words of Laurence Binyon's "Act of Remembrance"—

They shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning. We will remember them.

Final Resting Place of Canada's Unknown

Legion members filed past the tomb with bags, boxes, and urns to pour in a bit of soil from each province and territory, as well as soil from Vimy in France. The Unknown will lie in the soil of his homeland and that of the land where he died. Grand Chief Howard Anderson of the Gordon's Reserve north of Regina, poured in a mix of tobacco and sweet grass and added a ceremonial eagle feather. The traditional three volleys were fired by a lining party as the coffin was lowered. The grave was left with a temporary cover. It will be sealed with a granite lid, decorated with bronzes by sculptor Mary Ann Liu. The tomb is marked simply "The Unknown Soldier, Le Soldat Inconnu."

Sources: "The Legends and Traditions of the Great War" by Joyce M. Kennedy; Photos and additional commentary by Steve Miller.

Sabotage at Charleston, SC

German freighter, SS Liebenfels, in dry dock at Charleston Navy Yard
on 1 May 1917

"Federal officers had been unable tonight to ascertain the cause of the sinking of the 2,830-ton German freighter Liebenfels, of the Hansa line, which settled to the bottom in the harbor here today under circumstances that led marine men to believe she had been scuttled," reported by the New York Times.

Before the United States of America entered the Great War on the side of the Allies, a forgotten incident of German sabotage occurred in the Cooper River near Charleston, SC. The Liebenfels was sunk on 31 January 1917, coinciding with the break in diplomatic relations between the USA and Germany. The following day, Germany announced a return to its practice of unrestricted submarine warfare. Neutral nations like the United States feared the effects of this policy on their shipping and ability to stay out of the conflict. The story of the Liebenfels would not end there; the vessel would be raised and outfitted for service as an American naval vessel, the Houston, in the Charleston Navy Yard.

Eight of the ship’s officers were convicted for their role in the conspiracy and sentenced to a year in an Atlanta penitentiary. In another trial on 12 October 1917, Johann R. Klattenhof, the ship’s captain, and Paul Wierse, a Charleston American editorial writer, were convicted in federal court of conspiracy to sink the ship in Charleston Harbor and sentenced to two years. They acted upon orders from the German government, likely the German consul in Atlanta, William Muller. Muller fled to Ecuador and could only be sentenced in absentia.

Conversion of the SS Liebenfels to the USS Houston, finished,
2 July 1917 at the Charleston Navy Yard

The Liebenfels was raised by army engineers and moved to the Navy Yard for repairs. After the American declaration of war in April, five German vessels interned in Charleston Harbor were similarly overhauled and refitted at the Yard. These six vessels, given new American names, would be welcome additions to an expanding U.S. Navy. The Liebenfels was commissioned as the Houston on 3 July 1917 and saw service in convoys to France, transporting vital wartime goods like coal, oil, trucks, and airplanes. Writing in 1919, the commandant of the Sixth Naval District, headquartered in Charleston, stated that conversion of enemy vessels was probably the most important work done by Navy Yard workmen during the war.

Sources:  National Park Service (Article), Naval History and Heritage Command (Photos)

Yeah! The National World War I Museum Reopens with Two New Exhibitions

A pair of special exhibitions opening on Monday 1 June for members and on Tuesday 2 June when the National WWI Museum and Memorial reopens to the public shed light on how the organization came to possess the most comprehensive World War I collection in the world. 100 Years of Collecting and 100 Years of Collecting – Art provide a window to examine incredibly diverse objects and documents, the vast majority of which have never been on exhibit before.

Both exhibitions are open from 2 June 2020 to 7 March 2021. Entry to both exhibitions is included with general admission to the Museum and Memorial.  Here are some examples of the exhibits.

Highland Drummer by Daniel MacMorris

U.S.-Issued Hardtack

French Poilus by Edmond Lesellier

Uncle Sam (after Lusitania) by Unknown Artist

Messenger Pigeon Kit

American Red Cross Foreign Service Volunteer Ann Bailey’s Tunic

Exit Joffre, Enter Nivelle, Part II

Why Nivelle?

Nivelle

By Elizabeth Greenhalgh 

[Part I of this two-part article appeared in yesterday's Roads to the Great War]

The general chosen to replace Joffre is the only man with a Western Front battle named after him. Joffre had preferred Robert Nivelle to the cautious and demanding Pétain of May 1916 at Verdun, and he recommended Nivelle to Briand at year's end. Since Briand, at that moment, was expecting Joffre still to play a role as the government's “technical advisor,” it seemed prudent that Joffre and the new c-in-c should be able to work together. Furthermore, Poincaré much preferred the Joffre-Nivelle strategy of seeking the decisive battle in 1917, with the aim of capturing strategic German territory, over anything the other candidate, Pétain, might propose.

Briand knew that Pétain would not work willingly with Joffre; moreover, Pétain favored small, local actions with limited aims. Briand wanted a “new spirit” in his rejigged cabinet and favored Nivelle as being more likely to infuse the high command in similar manner. Besides, Pétain was not acceptable politically. He had insulted Poincaré by saying “we are neither commanded nor governed,” and suggested that the head of state should act as a dictator to get things moving. When Poincaré exclaimed, “But what about the Constitution?” Pétain replied, “Bugger the Constitution.” 

Yet his dislike of Pétain's politics was probably a less important factor in Poincaré's eyes than his wish for Nivelle's more aggressive attitude. Some saw the choice of Nivelle as a risk. Influential Nivelle staff officer Maurice Pellé, who was sacked from GQG at the same time as Joffre, thought that Foch would have been a safer bet. One could put up with Foch's speechifying because of his energy, but with Nivelle it was impossible to know whether he would be as successful as c-in-c as he had been in his earlier command positions. Nivelle's ascent had certainly been a rapid rise from colonel of artillery at the beginning of the war. Thus, he had no experience of dealing either with politicians, or with Haig and the British, or with the staff at GQG, although he was breveté; that is, he had passed staff college (in 1889).

Moreover, Joffre had clearly hoped to retain some influence behind the scenes by pushing someone whose rise had been so rapid that he had not had time to create his own political following. Joffre was overheard at GQG saying that Nivelle would be a “devoted and obedient lieutenant,” and, although Nivelle lacked the “authority to give orders to those who yesterday were his chiefs,” he (Joffre) would “cover” him with his own authority. Joffre's hopes were soon dashed. Indeed, he was sent off to the U.S. when the Americans declared a state of war with Germany on 6 April 1917 and was thus well out of the way when Nivelle's offensive began on 16 April. 

Nivelle had to deal with more than his political masters in Paris, because he was immediately thrown into dealings with France's allies, in particular with Britain's new prime minister, David Lloyd George, who was sure that he did not want the 1917 campaign to become another Somme. Armies other than those of Britain were to do the fighting! Hence the Rome conference in January 1917, during which Lloyd George tried unsuccessfully to get the Italians to undertake a major campaign. Lloyd George thought that French generals were, on the whole, better than the British, and if Nivelle and the French insisted on carrying out their plan for the 1917 campaign, then there was little reason to oppose it since it gave the main role to the French Army. Nivelle asked to speak with Lloyd George as he was returning through Paris to London, but the prime minister refused to discuss strategy with him unless Haig and Robertson were also present. 

All in all, Nivelle took command at a time of great change, which made his task much more difficult. The move of GQG from Chantilly to Compiégne and the personnel changes (a new chief of staff, General Pont, and some new heads of section) added to the difficulties of commanding men who had been his superiors in 1914 and 1915. Yet, despite his inexperience, Nivelle made a good impression at the start of his command. After Joffre, who had seemed increasingly tired and weighted down by responsibility, Nivelle was a breath of fresh air, younger and more energetic, self-confident but kindly. Liaison officer Edward Louis Spears thought he gave “an impression of vigor, strength and energy.” 

Source: Over the Top, December 2016

Exit Joffre, Enter Nivelle, Part I

Time for a Fresh Approach

Joffre

By Elizabeth Greenhalgh 

As the battle of the Somme ended and the Battle of Verdun was in its last stages, it was clear to France's leadership that  civic-military relations were deteriorating as well as army morale. The army commission of both houses had been worried by the state of defenses at Verdun, and the first secret session of parliament held during the war took place in June 1916, when much criticism of the high command had been aired. The vote of confidence that the government won afterwards contained a clause about “effective supervision over the prosecution of the war.” The deputies had won the right to parliamentary inspection for which they had been pressing. André Tardieu proposed a 30-member commission, which was discussed during July as the Somme offensive failed to achieve a quick success. On 1 August, deputies were elected to carry out the supervision. Joffre was furious that there should be any so-called interference with military matters.

Another secret session of the deputies was held on 21 November over the question of calling up the 1918 class, and this was followed a week later by another, during which it became clear to Prime Minister Aristide Briand that he would have to change the high command if he was to save his ministry. Over ten sittings complaints were aired. Although Briand obtained a (reduced) vote of confidence at the end of the sessions, he moved to ease Joffre out of command. Joffre had already cast off Foch, as responsible for the failure on the Somme, on the (false) excuse that he, Foch, was ill. This was not enough to save his own job, and when Joffre realized that Briand's offer of a role as the government's "technical advisor” was an empty one, he resigned. The pill was sweetened by the grant of a marshal's baton, making Joffre the Third Republic's first Marshal of France. The honor had been tarnished by the performance of Louis Napoleon's marshals during the Franco-Prussian War, and so had been in abeyance ever since. Briand also got rid of his war minister, General Roques, widely seen as Joffre's creature.

On 15 November the Allied military leaders gathered in Chantilly, just as they had done at the end of 1915, to plan the 1917 campaign. Joffre proposed a program that differed little from the previous year's, except for its being on a larger scale. He argued for an early start to coordinated operations to prevent any repetition of the Verdun offensive that had forestalled 1916's offensives. In France he proposed separate British and French attacks on both sides of the German salient—a repetition of 1915's strategy. Before any detailed planning could take place, he was removed from command on 13 December. Joffre's replacement as c-in-c of the French Army was Robert Nivelle, the general who had won the final success in the battle for Verdun. 

Read Part II, Why Nivelle? in Tomorrow's Roads to the Great War

Source: Over the Top, December 2016

The Importance of Fictional Works About the War, Part I of III

Fiction reveals truth that reality obscures.

Emerson

By Jane Mattison Ekstam

Why is war such an important feature of modern novels in English? How do such novels contribute to our understanding of war, and what does it mean to be a human being in time of war? I believe that by understanding the nature of representation of war in fiction we can better appreciate the consequences of war for human beings and understand the special contribution that novels can make in reaching such an appreciation. Most important, novels have a special ability to portray the moral concerns of individuals and how these affect the chances of

survival.

It is not my purpose here to argue for the historical accuracy, or otherwise, of war novels. Rather, I wish to show that works of art, which treat a limited aspect of the war, and where the writer enjoys the benefits of distance—physical and emotional—from the events which form the inspiration and context of the story told, can add to our understanding of human beings who serve in wars. 

Documentary accounts alone cannot accomplish this. Whether a story is "true" or not, it is difficult for the reporter to separate what is verifiable from what seemed to take place. Tim O'Brien, American novelist and veteran of the Vietnam War, expresses this as follows:

In any story, but especially a true one, it's difficult to separate what happened from what seemed to happen. What seems to happen becomes its own happening and has to be told that way. The angles of vision are skewed. When a booby trap explodes, you close your eyes and duck and float outside yourself. When a guy dies . . . you look away and then look back for a moment and then look away again. The pictures get jumbled; you tend to miss a lot. And then afterward, when you go to tell about it, there is always that surreal seemingness, which makes the story seem untrue, but which in fact represents the hard and exact truth as it seemed. 

("How to Tell a True War Story", in Paula Geyh, et. al, eds. Postmodern American Fiction: A Norton Anthology, pp. 175-6). 

World War One has given rise to a particularly large number of novels in English, especially from the British and Commonwealth countries, e.g. Canada, Australia, India, and South Africa. These have been the focus of my ongoing research into the popularity of modern English war literature, a study which covers over 80 novels published in English over the past 40 years. 

The renowned World War One scholar Paul Fussell wrote: "Life feeds materials to literature while literature returns the favour by conferring forms upon life" (The Great War and Modern Memory, p. ix). World War One novels are important sources of knowledge not only about the past; they also indicate values and concerns that are important today. It is thus no surprise that a number of World War One novels have appeared on bestseller lists throughout the world—and their popularity continues to grow. In accounting for the British fascination with World War One, Richard Holmes points out that this war saw more men serving than any other conflict in British history.

The Great War contained all the extremes of the human condition. Sebastian Faulks, author of the best-selling World War One novel Birdsong (1994), reflected that the war has become an important setting for serious contemporary fiction. The "hideous collisions of metal and flesh" give rise to repercussions and "social eddies" of special interest to modern writers intent on exploring human nature and its strengths and limitations (The Vintage Book of War Stories, pp. ix-x). 

End of Part I.  Part II will be presented on Roads to the Great War next, Tuesday, 9 June 2020.

Source: Originally presented in the Winter 2010 issue of Relevance: Quarterly Journal of the Great War Society

Memorial Day in the Year 2020

Surely, this past Memorial Day has been the most peculiar in our nation's history. Nevertheless, many Americans went out of their way to make sure our fallen were properly remembered. Here are some of them.

Click on Images to Enlarge

Vietnam Memorial, Philadelphia, PA

Scene at the National World War I Museum and Memorial,
Kansas City, MO

Marine Rifle Team, Union Cemetery, Antioch, CA

Remembering a Loved One, Cudsworth Cemetery, MA

Headline Pennsylvania Patriot-News, PA

Nags Head, NC, Remembrance Ceremony

Member of the 3rd Infantry Honor Guard Placing Flags at
Arlington National Cemetery

Medal of Honor Recipient James McCloughlan (Black Shirt) Marched with a Color Guard Through Downtown South Haven, MI, Despite the Official Cancellation of the Annual Parade

President Trump Wreath Laying, Arlington National Cemetery

Virtual Memorial Day Video Program of the 
American Battle Monuments Commission

Fighting the Spanish Flu with Posters

Click on Images to Enlarge

My Western Front Walks During the 2020 Shutdown

This is actually a Roads Classic from 2016.  Like many of you, I believe, these days I need to get out of the house for walks to avoid climbing-up-the-walls syndrome. So, I'm getting in a lot of walking. On my list of preferred routes, this is one I hit at least once a week. Here's the original article.

I have been blessed with a hiking location just a few miles from my home in the East Bay area of Northern California, which—for reasons that will be explained below—provides me with many reminders of the Western Front. As you might guess, this is quite inspiring for someone who regularly leads tours of the actual battlefields. Before I share a little history of this site, let me show you some images of my favorite walking trails, at 2,300-acre Point Pinole Regional Shoreline, and share how some of the stops bring distant locations to mind.

Entrance Signage

Crossing the Rail Bridge from the Parking Lot into the Main Park, Reminds Me of Hill 60 at Ypres and the Site of Caterpillar Mine Crater to the Right (Actually It's the Site of the West County Jail.)

A Bunker in the Woods

Point Pinole has been a regional park since 1973. The previous owner was the Atlas Powder Company, one of several firms that manufactured gunpowder and dynamite at the site for a century. This is why it has bunkers and protected areas all over the site.

There Are Trench Remains Everywhere You Look
Just One Example Here

Demolished Site, Reminiscent of Y-Ravine at Beaumont Hamel on the Somme

There are craters formerly used as blast and burning areas and what appear to be trails where the routes for the mini-trains used to shuttle material around the site. These companies have an interesting financial history tracing back to the entrepreneurship of none other than Alfred Nobel and the anti-trust breakup of the DuPont Powder Company.

A Sunken Artillery Position

Hillside Pillbox

As you might guess, this West Coast plant for Atlas Powder did a lot of work during the Great War.  I don't have statistics for the Pinole site, but the firms derived from the trust breakup are said to have manufactured 40 percent of the munitions used by the Allies and the U.S. in the war, making well over a billion dollars (1914 dollars) during the war years.

Field Fortification

Same Site Up Close

Different Vegetation, but This Always Reminds Me of the Wheat Field
the Marines Crossed at Belleau Wood 

  

What I do know for sure is that we ended up with a great and evocative park. I've been taking advantage of it since 1984.

Remembering a Veteran: Signaler and Diarist Sergeant Cyril Lawrence, AIF

By Craig Fullerton

Australian Signalers at Gallipoli—Cyril Lawrence on Right

(Editor's Correction:  This article was revised and corrected on 2 June 2020.  The editor's were lately very surprised to discover that there were two members of the AIF named Cyril Lawrence, who served in Gallipoli and on the Western Front and were both diarists. Ignorant of the second diarist, your editor drew from the writings of both Cyril's to supplement Craig Fullerton's original article. In this revision, I have deleted the entries from the second Cyril and expanded the entries from Cyril #1.)

Cyril Lawrence was apprenticed as a blacksmith in early 1913 when he was about 18 years old and working for a smithy in Brunswick, Victoria, when World War I broke out. He was probably living with his mother at 20 Staley Street, Brunswick, at the time. He enlisted as a sapper in the Australian Imperial Forces (AIF) on 19 August 1914, just 15 days after Australia entered the war. He had just turned 19. He was allocated the service number 132 and assigned to the 1st Australian Division Signal Company. He listed his next-of-kin as his mother, Mary. He indicated that he had previous experience in the Signal Engineers and Senior Cadets for two years. Cyril was just 5 feet 4 inches tall and weighed just 9 stone, 10 lbs, so he was not a big man. He had a dark complexion, brown eyes and dark hair.  

He left Australia on 20 October 1914 on board the HMAT Karroo, and his unit initially spent time training in Egypt. But by 5 April 1915 they had joined the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force off the Gallipoli Peninsula. The MEF was part of the British Army and commanded all the Allied forces at Gallipoli. At this time it was in the throes of planning for the Gallipoli landings, which took place on 25 April 1915. Cyril Lawrence was among those who created the Anzac legend on that fateful day. 

As soon as the sappers landed they established a divisional signal office and laid wires between HQ and the brigades at the front lines. This involved men physically rolling out miles and miles of cable—an extremely hazardous task. But by midnight the HQ signalers sat with telephones and message forms and were constantly in touch with the frontline commanders. One of Cyril’s signaler comrades from another battalion—Elias Silas—recorded an account in a book he published in 1916. His diary for 25 April provides a graphic account of what the signalers had to contend with on that day and the following days:

25 April: In the distance one can just discern the Dardenelles opening up – the thunder of the guns is much clearer – the weather this morning is beautiful; what will it be to-night? Studies. I have eaten well. I can now see fire from the guns. I wonder which of the men round me has been chosen by Death. I do not feel the least fear, only a sincere hope that I may not fail at the critical moment. 

5.30 pm: [Aboard ship] We are on the battlefield, well under the fire of the enemy – it is difficult to realise that every burst of flame, every spurt of water, means Death or worse. For days before we reached the final scene in the ‘Great Adventure’ we could hear the ceaseless thunder of the bombardment, we have been told of the impossible task before us, of probable annihilation; yet we are eager to get to it; we joke with each other about getting cold feet, but deep down in our hearts we know when we get to it we will not be found wanting.  

The Assembly is sounded – I have never seen it answered with such alacrity – there is a loud cheer as we gather together in the hold. Here for last time in this world many of us stand shoulder to shoulder. As I look down the ranks of my comrades I wonder which of us are marked for the land beyond. Perhaps I shall fly through the side of the ship to answer my question. I don’t  think I can carry my kit – I can scarcely stand with the weight of it ... I have often been told of the danger of signalling – that few signallers last more than three days. Now indeed is this brought home to me with considerable force – once more I pray that I may not fail the Battalion in the hour of need – I know full well that the miscarriage of a message may mean the lives of hundreds of men. The destroyer alongside us is signaling, but the Navy men are to quick for me – please God the others won’t be. The sailors are very kind to us, I think they know what we are going to face – can see boat-loads of wounded being towed from the shore – shrapnel just burst over our heads, thank God no damage – getting nearer the shore, Turks pelting us like anything. The ships are keeping the top of the ridges under a continual line of fire – am just told that we have landed 20,000 men. We are transferring into the boats – it is raining lead – Turks firing wide. 

Finally Ashore: It was relief to get ashore; we are packed so tightly in the boats and moreover so heavily laden with our kit that, had a shot hit the boat, we should have no chance of saving ourselves – it was awful the feeling of utter helplessness. Meanwhile the Turks pelted us hot and fast. In jumping ashore I fell over, my kit was so heavy; I couldn’t get up without help – fortunately the water was shallow at this point, otherwise – . It was a magnificent spectacle to see those thousands of men rushing through the hail of Death as though it was some big game – these chaps don’t seem to know what fear means – in Cairo I was ashamed of them, now I am proud to be one of them though I feel a pigmy beside them. Wish there wasn’t quite such damned noise with the guns, it is sending me all to pieces – don’t think I shall ever make a soldier. The beach is littered with wounded, some of them frightful spectacles; perchance myself I may at any moment be even as they are. Indians bringing ammunition mules along the beach – the scene of carnage worries them not all. It is commencing to get dark – we are now climbing the heights. I am given a pick to carry – half way up I had to drop it, it was too much for me. The lads on the top of the hill are glad to see us for they have been having an anxious time holding their position on the Ridge – ‘Pope’s Hill’ – they had scarcely time to throw up more than a little earth to take cover behind. The noise now is Hell. 

Into Action: Cannot find any Signallers of my Station – I will look for my Captain, Margolin, they are sure to be with him. There was no time to wait for orders; I must work on my own initiative – in any case the Captain will want a Signaller with him. Now some of the chaps are getting it – groans and screams everywhere, calls for ammunition and stretcher bearers, though how the latter are going to carry stretchers along such precipitous and sandy slopes beats me. Now commencing to take some of the dead out of the trenches; this is horrible; I wonder how long I can stand it. ‘Signaller’ – I just had to get a message to Headquarters – it had been raining a little, I found it almost impossible to keep my foothold, I kept slipping down all the way along. Colonel Pope seemed very worried and tired; have just heard that our Signal Lieutenant Wilton and Sergeant Major Emmett badly wounded in abdomen. Turks playing funny bugle calls all night long and yelling out, always in English. Bursts of fire from our men – officers doing all they can to stop it as we are getting short of ammunition – more bugling by Turks, makes me think of a Cairene descendanTs of marY Jones 497 Bazar; the idea of the bugles is supposed to impress us – the Turks would be vexed if they knew what we really thought. I have been running dispatches all night and in between endeavouring to make a dug-out – I couldn’t lift the pick so had to use my trenching tool. Wonder what I am going to do for rations – I had to throw mine out, it was too heavy for me to carry. Feeling very weak and tired. . .

27 April: Still fighting furiously – now all signalers have been wiped out of A and B Companies except myself. Just had a shell each side of my dug-out – I felt in a real panic as it is a most horrible sensation. Our ships have missed the range and sent eleven shells into us in a minute; I do not think anyone has been hit – the Turks’ trenches are so near ours that it is marvelous how accurately the ships find the range. For three days and nights I have been going without a stop occasionally having a go at my dug-out which, up to the present, is nothing more than a hole – the continual cry of ‘Signaller’ never seems to cease. While going up to the Captain’s dug-out with a message from Headquarters I nearly got pipped by a machine-gun; fortunately one of the lads pulled me down into safety – I don’t seem to feel it’s any use worrying; if I’m to get hit nothing can stop it, and to keep dodging down into dug-outs gets on my nerves – I can’t stand being cramped into small spaces. The Turks have now got hold of the names of our officers and keep giving messages purporting to emulate from said officers. All night long the Turks have been harassing us heavily – ever and anon ‘Enemy advancing on the right,’ ‘Enemy advancing on the left’ – all messages now have to be whispered along the line. There is a pale moon – any minute we are expecting the enemy to rush the trenches – we have no reserves. 

Somehow, Cyril Lawrence also survived the mayhem and carnage of these opening days at Gallipoli. However, on 26 May his luck ran out and he was wounded, receiving a shrapnel wound to his right leg. He was evacuated to the No. 1 General Hospital in Heliopolis, Egypt. By 15 June he had recovered, was discharged, and rejoined his unit at the front. Just over a month later he was back in hospital with a bout of influenza that laid him up for two weeks. He rejoined his unit on 7 August, when it was in the midst of the Battle of Lone Pine.

The Australians suffered an estimated 2,277 casualties and the opposing Turkish forces between 5,000 and 6,000 killed or wounded during that battle. Two months after enduring the horrors of the Gallipoli landings, Cyril was still in the thick of it. Later, he would vent about the mismanagement of the campaign.

The New Sergeant
(Author's Website)

On 1 December 1915 he was promoted to the rank of 2nd corporal. This was initially a temporary promotion necessitated by the evacuation of 2nd Corporal Burns, who was sick, but he was confirmed in the rank on 12 January 1916. He rose rapidly after that, attaining the rank of corporal on 28 February 1916 and just over a year later, on 30 March 1917, sergeant. The Australian 1st Division left Gallipoli in December 1915. Sometime before his departure, Cyril made one of his most lyrical entries one evening:

He boarded the Grampian on about 21 March 1916 bound for France, disembarking at Marseilles a week later, on 28 March. On 28 May he was once again admitted to hospital and finally rejoined his unit on 17 August and within a few days was sent to England for training at the Royal Engineers Training Depot at Hitching in Hertfordshire. He would spend his 21st birthday there, and his training concluded on 21 March 1917 when he set off to rejoin his unit in France, arriving six days later. By this time the 1st Australian Division Signal Company was in Baizieaux, in the Somme region in the northwest of France. 

By 7 April the unit had relocated to nearby Bancourt where it engaged in the never-ending task of maintaining the communications network, laying miles and miles of telephone cable to the ever-changing infantry and artillery frontline positions as they began to get the upper hand over the beleaguered German forces. Upon being promoted to sergeant on 30 March 1917, Cyril was assigned to the No. 1 Artillery subsection. It was during battle on 18 May 1917 that he was hit by an enemy shell, receiving a severe wound in the back. He was evacuated and treated at the 34th Casualty Clearing Station (CCS) situated in La Chapelette, near Peronne about 12 miles to the east of Amiens. Tragically, he died from his wounds just five days later, on 23 May 1917. In his last days he received a number of visits from the chaplain of the 34th CCS, Rev. John M. Forbes, who wrote to his mother, Mary, after Cyril’s death. Cyril was buried at La Chapelette British Cemetery. His grave is located at Plot I, Row E, Grave No. 7.

Back home, Cyril’s death was announced in The Argus:

LAWRENCE – Killed in action, somewhere in France, on the 23rd May, Sergeant Cyril Lawrence, dearly beloved eldest son of Mary and the late Harry Lawrence, “Selukwe”, 20 Staley Street, Brunswick; loving brother of Jean (Mrs Reitschell), Nellie, Florrie, and Aubrie, after two years and 10 months service in Egypt, Gallipoli, and France, of the First Contingent, aged 21 years and 8 months; late of Harrietville. Another Anzac hero Called for higher service (Inserted by his loving mother, sisters, and brother)

Excerpted from Craig Fullerton's IN THE SHADOW OF FEATHERTOP, 2014 winner of the Alexander Henderson Award for Best Australian Family History. The book can be ordered at Craig's website:  https://craig-fullerton.com/.

He also has information on all the members of his extended family that served, and in some cases lost their lives in the war here:
https://craig-fullerton.com/our-family-trees/treasure-chest/honour-roll/