Now all roads lead to France and heavy is the tread
Of the living; but the dead returning lightly dance.
Edward Thomas, Roads

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

Tommy Rot: WWI Poetry They Didn't Let You Read


by John Sadler and Rosie Serdville
The History Press, December 1, 2013
David Beer, Reviewer



The General inspecting the trenches
Exclaimed with a horrified shout,
"I refuse to command a Division
Which leaves its excreta about.


I admit I picked up this small paperback some time ago with the expectation of enjoying some spicy poetry by ordinary soldiers of World War One. However, the only slightly "naughty" piece in the whole book is the quite well known "The General Inspecting the Trenches" by A.P. Herbert, where we meet that personification of poop, General Shute.

But the book wasn't a disappointment. Its 160 pages contain poems and doggerel by a few noted poets but mostly anonymous soldiers, plus some interesting and humorous prose and a few color plates as well as black and white illustrations. The authors give brief background sketches of major events and situations as they go along. The book's six chapters are arranged by year, with each year described by one word: 1. Expectation, 2. Resignation, 3. Death, 4. Mud, 5. Home Front, and 6. Victory.

At the outbreak of war, anticipation was high. John Oxenham could confidently begin a poem with

As sure as God's in his heaven
As sure as he stands for right,
As sure as the Hun this wrong hath done,
So surely we win this fight!


It didn't take long for reality to set in, as we all know. Soon an anonymous recruit would ruefully write:

I heard the bugles callin' an' join I felt I must,
Now I wish I'd let them go on blowin' till they bust!


Parody was always fair game, often based on popular songs. Several men described trench life using this model, entitled "My little dry home in the wet:"

I've a little wet home in a trench
And the rainstorms continually drench
There's the sky overhead, clay or mud for a bed
And stone we use as a bench
Bully beef and hard biscuits we chew
It seems years since we tasted a stew
Shells crackle and scare, yet no place can compare
With my little wet home in the trench.


Consideration for others and nostalgia for some of the comforts of home are shown in these 12 lines, found written on the wall of a rest billet by the Durham Pals:

Harken all ye whom duty calls
To spend some time within these friendly walls,
Others will sojourn here when you have passed,
You were not the first and will not be the last, Therefor take heed and do what ye may,
For safety or comfort while ye stay!
Just put a sandbag here, a picture there
To make a room more safe, a wall less bare,
Think as you tread the thorny path of duty,
Of comfort, of security, of beauty,
So your successors when they come shall say
'A fine battalion we relieved today.'


From Tommy Rot

Death isn't avoided by these amateur poets. Brief and to the point are these lines by an anonymous writer:

We've served with you for near a year And shared your woes and joys
We shall miss your lengthy shadow
And so will all the boys
But when we're digging trenches, Jim
We shall always think of you.
Instead of digging four feet six,
We'll dig them six foot two!


Some doggerel by Private Wiles of the Middlesex Regiment express his insight into the ultimate meaning of rank:

There's many a private soldier,
Who walks his humble way
With no sounding name or title
Unknown to the world today,
In the eyes of God is a hero
As worthy of the days
As any mighty general,
To whom the world gives praise.


A handful of longer poems in this anthology are perhaps the most striking and, in my opinion, come close in skill and quality to the work of the better-known war poets. They compare not only in their depth and expression of feeling but also in their controlled tone and structure. "Close of Play" requires a slight knowledge of cricket as it threads its way through the end of a game in England and the end of a life in the trenches. "The Wattle, Ivy and Gum" inspires an Australian soldier to movingly contemplate on a "three leaved spray" he has received. In it he sees and feels home, patriotism, tenacity, liberty, and sacrifice.

On the Menin Road Looking Toward Ypres

An anonymous elegy of four stanzas entitled "ILIUM" weaves a haunting parallel between the ancient ruins of Troy (Ilium) and the fighting at Ypres. I think it's well worth showing here for its elegance and historic texture, its effective rhyme scheme, and as evidence of what an educated and sensitive Tommy could create:

Fair was your city, old and fair
And fair the hall where the kings abode,
And you speak to us in your despair,
To us who see but ruins bare,
A crumbled wall, a shattered stair,
And graves on the Menin Road.


It was sweet you say, from the city wall,
To watch the fields where the horsemen rode,
It was sweet to hear at even fall,
Across the moat, the voices call.
It was good to see the stately hall,
From the paths by the Menin Road.


Yea, citizens of the city dead,
Whose souls are torn by memories goad,
But now there are stones in the Cloth Hall's stead,
And the moat that you loved is sometimes red,
And voices are still and laughter sped.
And torn is the Menin Road.


And by the farms and the House of White,

And the shrine where the little candle glowed,
There is silence now by day and night,
Or the sudden crash and the blinding light,
For the guns smite ever as thunders smite,
And there's death on the Menin Road.


Perhaps this book is mis-titled in that it contains plenty that can be informatively enjoyed and that is by no means "rot." Also, since each entry is short, the book can be picked up and put down easily after reading just a page or two. Above all, Tommy Rot gives us insight into the feelings and attitudes—and in many cases creativity—of some of the "Tommies" who made up the rank and file of the British Army in World War One.

David Beer

Monday, December 16, 2019

Map Series #13: Europe After the Peace Treaties


Click on Map to Enlarge




Source: Europe in the Era of Two World Wars by Volker R. Berghahn

Sunday, December 15, 2019

The Mikra War Memorial, Kalamaria, Greece


ALL THESE HAVE NO OTHER GRAVE THAN THE SEA
HE DISCOVERTH DEEP THINGS OUT OF DARKNESS
AND BRINGETH OUT TO LIGHT THE SHADOW OF DEATH

Caption on the Lost at Sea Listing, Mikra Memorial

By James Patton

The Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) Mikra Memorial to the Missing is located inside the Mikra Cemetery in Kalamaria, Greece, which is on the Aegean Sea about four miles south of Thessaloniki, known by the British in 1915 as Salonika.

The cemetery has 1,810 Commonwealth burials and 147 of other nationalities. All are from WWI. Although the site was started in April 1917 due to a nearby hospital complex, many graves are postwar re-burials from up the line.

Lost at Sea Listing, Mikra Memorial

The cemetery and memorial were the work of the Scottish architect Sir Robert Lorimer KBE (1864–1929), a noted designer of buildings in the Scots Baronial and Arts and Crafts styles.  Lorimer had the commission for all of the CWGC sites in the Salonika area, as well as the Naval Memorials in the UK, which will be discussed in a future post. His most important creation was the Scottish National War Memorial at Edinburgh Castle.

The battlefield missing of the theater are commemorated on the CWGC Doiron Memorial, which is located up-country. The Mikra Memorial lists 480 Commonwealth soldiers, sailors, nurses, and civilians whose remains were never found after the sinking of transport, hospital, and messenger vessels in the eastern Mediterranean theater of naval operations, which were these five:

  • HT Marquette, inbound for Salonika, 23 Oct. 1915, 167 deaths
  • HMHS Brittanic, inbound for Mudros, 21 Nov. 1916, 30 deaths
  • HT Ivernia, outbound for Alexandria, 21 Jan. 1917, 120 deaths
  • S. Princess Alberta, inbound for Mudros, 21 Feb. 1917, 33 deaths
  • HT Arcadian, homeward bound, 15 Apr. 1917, 279 deaths

HT Marquette, Prewar

The Marquette was not a hospital ship but was carrying the 1st New Zealand Stationary Hospital and the 29th Division Ammunition Train to Salonika. Ten nurses and 19 other medical personnel were lost and are commemorated on the memorial. This tragedy was recounted (with some poetic license) by Thomas Keneally in his 2012 best-seller The Daughters of Mars

The Brittanic was the slightly bigger sister ship to the RMS Titanic and was the largest ship of any flag lost in WWI. Until the loss of the Costa Concordia in 2012, the Brittanic was also the largest passenger ship ever to sink.

HMHS  Brittanic

Among the lost on the Arcadian was Sir Marc Armand Ruffer (1869–1917), an eminent pathologist and bacteriologist who was working for the Red Cross in Egypt. He is listed on the Mikra Memorial.

Originally Presented at the KANSAS WWI Website, 21 October 2017

Friday, December 13, 2019

After Jerusalem, Allenby Takes Jericho


General Edmund Allenby Approaches the Jaffa Gate, Jerusalem,
11 December 1917


On the morning of 21 February 1918, combined Allied forces of British troops and Australian mounted cavalry capture the city of Jericho in Palestine after a three-day battle with Turkish troops.

Winter rains had put an end to campaigning for British General Edmund Allenby's forces after the advance from the Gaza-Beersheba line to the capture of Jerusalem in December 1917. This lull in the fighting offered the opportunity for the captured territories to be consolidated. Extensive developments were also required along the lines of communication to ensure that frontline troops were adequately supplied, as they were approximately 150 miles (240 km) from their main bases at Moascar and Kantara on the Suez Canal.

Allenby wrote on 25 January: "I want to extend my right, to include Jericho and the N[orth] of the Dead Sea." This advance would remove the more serious threat to his right by pushing all the enemy across the Jordan River and securing the Jordan River crossings. It would also prevent raids into the country to the west of the Dead Sea and provide a narrow starting point for operations against the Hedjaz Railway.

Allenby's Allied troops began the renewed offensive on Tuesday 19 February, on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Despite battling adverse weather conditions and a determined enemy in the Turks, the Allies were able to move nearly 20 miles toward Jericho in just three days.

Australian Light Horsemen on the Advance


On the morning of 21 February it was apparent that the Turkish line had been broken, and the Allied forces entered the holy city of Jericho without much resistance at just after 8 a.m. Upon realizing they had lost control of the city, Turkish troops chose to retreat rather than fight. During the three-day battle, Allied troops captured [only] 46 Turkish prisoners.

The capture of Jericho proved to be an important strategic victory for the Allies, who now controlled some of the most important roads in the region, including the main road to the coast and the mountain highway leading to Jerusalem. They had also made the northern end of the Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth at 1,290 feet below sea level.

Sources: History Today and Wikipedia

Wednesday, December 11, 2019

Billy Mitchell on Organizing the U.S. Air Service



At last the American Army was to be given a chance to get together and show what it could do. The great German offensive, begun in March 1918, had forced this decision on the superior command in France. At Château-Thiérry, all branches of the Service demonstrated their ability to stick to it, stand losses, and give blow for blow. For nearly a year we had been scattered around, in ever increasing numbers, among the French and British troops, learning in a great series of battles the methods that were necessary on the European battlefields.

It had been my good fortune to enter into combat with the French Army only seven days after our declaration of war. And, from that time on, every opportunity was taken to participate in and observe every major operation undertaken by the Allied troops. People seldom learn by the experience of others—the facts in the case have to be forced into one's own consciousness before they are fully realized.


At Château-Thiérry our Air Service was given the first chance to act in organizations sufficiently large to retain their identity as fighting units, and to try out our tactical combinations which we had worked out as being particularly applicable to our own people.

To be sure, we had very few organizations there—one Pursuit Group (the First) of a hundred airplanes, three Corps Observation Squadrons of twenty-four airplanes each, and the beginning of a Night Reconnaissance Squadron, the last named having been forced by the fact that all movements were now being made at night, and that night reconnaissance was the only means of determining where the attacks were to be made.

And I had waited so long for an opportunity to see how our men acted when placed entirely on their own footing that I watched every detail with the greatest care. I had heard all the comments by our Allies as to the difficulties they had had, and what we might expect under similar circumstances. Among the things that I watched the most carefully was how our combination in the air—our team work in the air—would be, because, in Europe, more difficulty had been experienced in getting combination in the air than probably any other one thing; that is, it is very difficult to get Pursuit Squadrons of twenty ships to act together and in combination; much more difficult to get groups of from sixty to a hundred ships to act together, and extremely difficult for the different branches of aviation to act with each other, because in the air nowadays we have as many different branches as there are on the ground.

To my great satisfaction I found out from the first big fight we went into that our combination in the air was wonderful. We had it from the start. It was due, I believe, first, to the great intelligence and physical excellence of our pilots; next, to their careful training, and, third, to the fact that all of our navigating personnel (pilots and observers) had been used from their infancy to games such as football, baseball, hockey, and polo, where combination, reliance on one's companions and team work are the underlying factors.

The most difficult thing in air training in its broadest phase is to teach the various commands how to make an instantaneous estimate of the situation in the air.

To begin with, in Pursuit Aviation, the Unit Commander must know the object of the operation. He must be able to find his place, which may be anywhere from the ground up to 20,000 feet above the lines and in the enemy's territory; and, when he sees an enemy formation, individual plane, or several different kinds of aviation formations at the same time, he must be able to make up his mind what to do instantly, and act on it with boldness and foresight.


In Observation Aviation, particularly that branch which acts in close liaison with the troops on the ground, the Infantry must be made to feel the close proximity of their own airplanes— the whole-hearted support which the air will give the ground— and the greatest mutual understanding must be created between them.

In all aviation, particularly with green troops, this combination of feeling between the ground and the air is one of the most difficult things to obtain and requires the longest training.

At Château-Thiérry we were greatly outnumbered in the air by the Germans, who had succeeded in smashing up the aviation of the Sixth French Army, and had succeeded not only in concentrating the bulk of their aviation on this front to help in their general offensive, but had re-equipped their whole aviation within a comparatively short time with an excellent pursuit ship— the Fokker— which was a great advance from their former pursuit ships of the Albatross and other similar types.

Being so greatly outnumbered caused us very heavy losses, but, on the other hand, taught us a great deal that we could have learned in no other way. Theory and practice were mixed in our daily combats to such an extent that, with the experience that we had had before, we came out of the Château-Thiérry operations with the distinct theory of how aviation should be handled in great numbers and how these things should be put into effect. The soundness of the theories was proved by subsequent operations, and we soon had the opportunity of showing, first at St. Mihiel, and then in the Argonne, what these were.

As soon as the great German offensive had been stopped in the Château-Thiérry area, a counter stroke was decided upon by the superior command, and, for that purpose, the formation of the First American Army went forward with great speed. This stroke was to be made against the German pivot of maneuver for their whole Western Front, which extended, roughly, from the Argonne Forest to the line of the Meuse River and Verdun. If this place held, and its communications behind it through the Trèves Gap, the retirement of the bulk of the German forces farther west to the sea could be carried out in an orderly manner. Should this area fall, the backbone of the German resistance would be broken.


The task, then, of the First American Army was to fight down the resistance of the Germans from the Argonne Forest to the Meuse River, and, as a preliminary to this, in order to insure the protection of the American Army's right flank in the direction of Metz (their great fortress and railroad center in this area), it was necessary to reduce the St. Mihiel salient, which acted as a great thorn in the side of any advance north from the Verdun area. The first mission of the First American Army was to reduce the St. Mihiel salient, and then go for the Argonne.

In an operation of this kind, particularly with new and untried troops, the command of the air is essential, and, as I was given the duty by our great commander, General Pershing, of drawing up the plans for our aeronautical forces, I recommended the strongest aviation contingent to be furnished which had ever been brought together under a single command during the war. As is usual under these conditions, every objection has to be overcome, and every reason has to be advanced as to the necessity for such things as distinguished from the concentration of maximum forces in another place. My recommendations were approved by Marshal Foch, and the concentration was commenced.

American, French, British, and Italian air forces were involved in this movement, which amounted to some 1,500 airplanes of all kinds, namely, squadrons and groups of corps observation, army observation, army artillery, pursuit groups, day and night bombardment, and reconnaissance groups, and the whole French Air Division. The organizations had to come from all sections of the Western Front, localities had to be chosen for them, airdromes prepared, supplies of spare parts for airplanes, millions of rounds of ammunition for the machine guns and bombs, thousands of gallons of gasoline and oil, and a system of replenishment of personnel for all these different units. All of these had to be connected up by telegraph, telephone, wireless telegraphy, and motorcycle, automobile, and airplane couriers. The anti-aircraft artillery, machine guns and searchlights, and the system of information for the whole Army had to be linked together with this great mass of aircraft. And above all, the greatest secrecy had to be maintained to prevent the Germans finding out about the air concentration until it was too late for them. 


The Staff of the Air Service of the First Army which handled these operations consisted of five different sections, namely:


  • An Operations Section, which provided for the plans and execution of all military operations against the enemy— where, how, and when the squadrons, groups, wings, and brigades should be placed and should work;


  • An Information Service, which received and distributed all information to the various parts of our own Army, and to the armies acting on our flanks;


  • A Balloon Section, which handled the operation of all our balloons;


  • A Material Section, which handled the construction of all airdromes, had the handling of all transportation for their supply, and the obtaining of all things which the different organizations would use, such as airplanes, gas, oil, ammunition, photographic material, radio equipment, and the thousand and one things pertaining to such a great force;


  • The fifth section was the Administration Section, which handled all correspondence, replenishment of personnel, personnel records, and all routine matters relating to the pay and distribution of the men.


The officers in charge of these various sections had been carefully trained for their work and not only understood it themselves, but understood how to work with each other. The work which these officers did at this time laid a foundation for our Air Service which continued throughout the remainder of the war, and which will continue in the future if maintained.

The Aviation Headquarters acted in the closest liaison with our Commander, General Pershing, and his Chief of Staff, personal reports being made every morning, and oftener when required, as to the progress of operations, and excellent official and personal relations existed between all departments of the Staff of the First Army. And to those of us who had been in the Army for some years, nothing gave us greater satisfaction than to see the seriousness, the method, the cooperation, and the industry which each department maintained. If any one was at fault, he saw it immediately, and was perfectly free to acknowledge it, and immediately attempted to rectify it. With such men to work with, there is nothing too difficult to do in a military way.

While group after group of the airplanes from the different nations were going to their appointed places behind the line which had been prepared by our construction squadrons for their reception, and were carefully hidden inside the hangars so as to prevent their being seen by the enemy, the Staff of the First Army Air Service was completing its plan of employment for our first operation as an army.

The plan of employment is the most important document which has to be prepared at the beginning of a battle, and from its complete and thorough understanding does success or failure result.

A plan of employment tells each branch of aviation what it must do in accordance with the general object of the operations, and how every detail is to be handled as occasions may arise. In general, it provides for three distinct phases of a combat:

First, the preparation of the attack, where great secrecy is necessary, when hostile reconnaissance of all kinds must be prevented, and while we find out all we can about the enemy without showing too much activity;

Second, the actual attack up to the first objective, that is, where we strike, and in which the mission of the aviation is to destroy the aviation of its enemy, then to attack his ground troops, and to insure proper cooperation and observation for our own infantry and artillery;

Third, the exploitation of the battle, where the enemy is pursued both in the air and on the ground, every organization behind his line is attacked by bombs and machine guns, where the aviation attacks with the troops, and where our air reconnaissance is pushed miles into his territory.


Our theory of operations was to assign to the troops themselves the aviation which they needed for their own operations, that is, the Observation Squadron to the Army Corps for use by the infantry and artillery, and Pursuit Groups for their local protection. All the rest, which made up the great bulk of the aviation, particularly pursuit and bombardment, was to be put into a central mass and hurled at the enemy's aviation, no matter where he might be found, until a complete ascendancy had been obtained over him in the air; after this, to attack his ground troops, his trains, his depots of ammunition and supplies, and his railroad stations and lines of communication.

In addition to this, his airdromes were attacked both night and day, so as to force him either to arise and accept combat, or to lose his airplanes in the hangars themselves on his own fields.

Sources: This article originally appeared in the August 1919 edition of World's Work magazine. The images used are from the Pentagon art collection.

Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Plumes


by Lawrence Stallings
University of South Carolina Press, 2006
Bryan Alexander, Reviewer


Author Laurence Stallings
Capt. USMC, Croix de Guerre
Plumes begins as a boisterous account of American troops in France, but that rapidly turns out to be a brief head fake. The rest of this 1924 novel takes place in the United States after the First World War and follows a veteran's subsequent physical and mental trauma. Plumes is a deeply sad and angry book, an important and unfairly neglected contribution to American WWI literature.

The plot follows the life of Richard Plume, a college student who signs up to fight Germans. We're actually first introduced to his ancestors, a long line of Plumes who fought and suffered for every American war back to the revolution. In that tradition Richard finds some success in France but is then badly wounded and invalided home. This shatters his life, altering his hopes and career, while traumatizing his wife. Plumes concerns his struggles to survive and rebuild.

It is an intense novel, never shying away from repeated mental and physical suffering. Richard and his wife Esme struggle with his depression and disability, worsened by growing penury and the stresses of raising a child. Richard repeatedly falls, breaks more bones, and undergoes further surgery in what look like vain attempts to improve his condition. He does find a job, working with another war invalid and for a sympathetic employer. At the same time his bitterness takes on a political dimension, damning the government and taking up a strongly antiwar stance, even fantasizing about electrocuting Congressmen who consider a new war (250).

I grant you that all war is a mistake, brutal and vicious dance directed by ghastly men. It was the tragedy of our lives that we had to be mutilated at the pleasure of dolts and fools. (126)

Indeed, the book's final theme concerns whether Richard and Esme's son will grow up to be a soldier or to hate war. It's a microcosm for interwar despair over WWI's horrendous costs.

This is a daring approach for a WWI novel. It largely shuns the combat experience, except for the opening scene and a dimly glimpsed flashback (240ff). It generally sees the war as simply destructive, if not a civilization-level mistake. Its protagonists are heroic only in their uneven persistence in the face of spiraling agony. Ultimately, Plumes reminds me of Johnny Got His Gun (1938), with its unflinching representation of horror and antiwar argument; I wonder how the former influenced the latter.

Yet the book is not a monologue. Esme represents a different point of view throughout. She admires president Wilson even as the League of Nations is defeated (we see her applauding him in a rare public appearance). While Richard turns against wealthy people, Esme admires their taste. As he rages against the war, she maintains a neutral attitude. Taken together, the Plumes as a couple represent a decent swathe of American attitudes toward WWI in the 1920s.

It's a closely autobiographical novel, the only one written by Lawrence Stallings (1894–1968), who would go on to work in Hollywood for decades. Stallings also suffered a bad leg injury, which ultimately led to its amputation, as well as the loss of the other leg. (While Stallings never wrote more fiction about WWI, later in life he published a nonfiction book,  Doughboys (1963).

Laurence Stallings with Director Raoul Walsh, Who Directed the First Screen Version of Stallings's Play What Price Glory?

The novel is often charming, despite its subject manner. Stallings has a gift for wry descriptions and puckish sentences:

A diffident, unyielding couch, a table that seemed to be a thwarted grand piano and three chairs, distinguished only by their uncompromising rectitude, were part of the Plumes' seventy-five dollars. (173)

[H]ordes of lobbyists and countless rustic statesmen prepar[ed] for the year of wrangling necessary to protect American industry with a tariff which would assure the children of Europe little hope against the child workers of the United States. (182)

This prose skill is what leads to the novel's potent last lines, which take place in Arlington, right after the consecration of the Tomb of the Unknown Solider. Dickie, Richard and Esme's son, is considering fresh graves and war.

"What's a general?" he said finally.
"A man," said Gary, "who makes little boys sleep in graves."
Dickie was frightened. His lip trembled. He looked about to where Richard and Esme sat above him.
"I'll ask Esme," he said, "not to let a general get me."
(348)

That's the novel's final hope: that WWI will give rise to an antiwar generation.

Plumes is also emotionally powerful. The titular characters' struggles feel real, compelling, and sympathetic.

The modern reader may find the novel's treatment of race embarrassing or offensive. Richard and Esme are white people who grew up in the Jim Crow South, and it shows. The book's opening vignette finds Richard brawling with black (French colonial) troops; this is lighthearted in tone. A venerated ancestor was named after President Jackson (15). Characters use the N-word (42, 265). Esme argues that the South was right to secede and that life would be better with slavery (195-202). We can understand these attitudes as historically contingent, but they may still rankle in 2019.

This new printing of Plumes is well done. An introduction (by George Garrett) and afterward (Steven Trout) offer useful historical, biographical, and literary contexts. The cover includes a photo of the Arlington Tomb ceremony, appropriately.

Strongly recommended for anyone interested in WWI or American literature.

Bryan Alexander

Monday, December 9, 2019

The U.S. Corps of Engineers at War



Britain and France, exhausted after three years of war, were in urgent need of manpower, technical support, and supplies. As soon as America decided to enter the war, he two allies [actually associated powers] immediately pressed the U.S. to send engineers.  By June 1917 an initial complement of American troops, plucked from duty along the Mexican border, was on its way to Europe as the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF), with Gen. John Pershing in command. By August, nine newly organized engineer railway regiments and the combat engineer regiment of the 1st Division had crossed the Atlantic. Several of the railway units were assigned to British or French formations pending the arrival of more American combat troops. By June 1918, 10,000 American soldiers were arriving in France daily.

Operating Railroads

The AEF, eventually numbering over two million men, needed to be transported, sheltered, and supplied—a job for the engineers. The hastily organized and trained army engineer regiments were the first to recognize the massive scope of the effort needed to support the AEF, and there was much to learn about the engineering needs of a modern army on a battlefield thousands of miles from home.

Construction

During the war, army engineers built port and railway facilities, roads, and bridges essential to moving troops and war materiel across France. They harvested timber and prepared lumber at 107 sawmills to build docks, storage depots, barracks, and hospitals. They operated searchlights for anti-aircraft defense, produced camouflage materials, and created millions of maps. While many of these activities took place behind the lines, army engineers also engaged in combat along the western front, often fighting as infantry in both defensive and offensive operations. All in all, around 240,000 American army engineers served in Europe during the war, of which approximately 40,000 were African American.

Operating Ports

For army engineers, World War I was trial by fire. They had had little experience in mechanized warfare or in supporting a large expeditionary force fighting so far from home. The training manuals of the time described what had to be done but offered little guidance on how to do it, in the worst weather imaginable, and within range of a deadly enemy.  So the officers and men of the engineer units learned their trade on the job, and whether they were builders or fighters, the engineers in the Great War met the challenges. They combined courage under fire with critically needed technical skills, and their contribution was essential to the success of the U.S. Army in the First World War.

Source: U.S. Army Corps of Engineers

Australia's Prisoners of War


Australians Captured at the Somme

One of the areas of the history of the Great War that needs more research is the plight of the millions who were prisoners of war. The Australian War Memorial has done much excellent work on its nation's soldiers, including their prisoner of war experience. Australia might be  a representative example, in spite of its relatively low population, but it's soldier/captives certainly experienced much misery.

The Great War was to be a terrible experience for the newly federated nation of Australia. In 1914 hardly any Australians knew what being a prisoner of war meant. In the Boer War a few dozen Australians had been captured and quickly released. The Great War that became a baptism of fire, killing tens of thousands of young men, also creating the foundation for new traditions of patriotism, and an increasingly distinct national identity apart from Britain.

Some 60,000 Australian military personnel were killed during the Great War, and about 160,000 were wounded. Of the 3,853 Australians captured by the Germans, 310—about one in 12—died in captivity.

Graves of Australian POWs in Turkey

The Gallipoli campaign saw the first of 217 Australians captured by Ottoman [Turkish] forces. The AE2, Australia’s second war submarine, was sunk in the Sea of Marmara on 30 April 1915. Torpedoed by the Turkish boat Sultan Hissar, the 32-man crew was forced to abandon ship and all were taken prisoner. Though their captors at first treated them as “honoured guests,” the submariners were sent to work on the railway being built through the Taurus Mountains of southern Turkey. In that harsh climate, they suffered from malnutrition, overwork, disease, and brutality. Four died, of typhus, malaria or meningitis

Other Australians were captured during the Gallipoli and Middle Eastern ground campaigns, and Australian airmen were also captured in what is now Iraq. One quarter of Australian POWs died in Turkish captivity due to poor food and disease. “It was hell,” an Australian recalled. "We had to fight hard to keep alive.” The last of the AE2 men, Stoker Charles Suckling, who died in 1983, recalled: “I don’t think, if we had known what was ahead of us, that one of us would have left the boat.”

On the Western Front battlefields from 1916 to 1918, 3,853 Australian troops were taken prisoner by German forces, most of them held in Germany. A third of these Australian prisoners were captured on 11 April 1917 at the First Battle of Bullecourt in northern France. A number of Australian airmen were also shot down and captured by the Germans.

Australians Captured at Fromelles, July 1916

Although these Australian prisoners survived in proportionally higher numbers than their comrades in Ottoman camps, their experience was a difficult one and their captors were generally harsh. Many non-officer POWs were made to work for the Germans in war-related capacities—a direct breach of the Hague Conventions. 

Mrs. Chomley
The conditions they endured varied greatly. In 1917, though, many were held in appalling conditions in Fort MacDonald near Lille, in Belgium, despite the Hague Convention on the treatment of prisoners of war. Private Horace Ganson, 16th Battalion, AIF recalled, "The Germans … put us in a fort at Lille. They never gave us anything. We may have had a slice of bread a day, nothing else. We were building dugouts, huts, carrying and loading shells. We had one slice of bread in the morning and at lunchtime a pot of soup, which was more or less like water." Others, often starved and treated brutally, worked for months under shellfire close behind German lines.

In camps in Germany conditions were better, but prisoners suffered increasingly from shortages caused by the British blockade. Many survived only because of regular Red Cross parcels. Elizabeth Chomley, an Australian living in London, ran the Red Cross prisoner of war office in London that supported Australian prisoners in Europe. For thousands of Australians in German camps, Miss Chomley’s parcels reminded them that they had not been forgotten. Her album and the Red Cross records in the memorial contain hundreds of letters and cards thanking her for her work.

Sources:  Photos and text from the Australian War Memorial

Sunday, December 8, 2019

France 1917: Mutinies in the Army; Discontent on the Home Front

Historians have come to view 1917 as the year when the moral fortress of [France's] Sacred Union was at its most tortured. The months of May and June 1917 saw the first major wave of strikes since the beginning of the war, as well as a series of mutinies on the Western Front. . .

In the meantime, workers in the capital brought numerous factories to a standstill. From May to mid-July, 133,000 workers launched 197 separate strikes in Paris, primarily in the textile, clothing, metal, and food industries. These strikes were mostly initiated from below, by workers on the shop floor, and most of them were led by women.

Parisian Midinettes (Dressmakers) on Strike, May 1917

Though the major demands made by strikers in May and June of 1917 were work related, recent research has highlighted the degree to which female strikers combined both political and economic protest. . . As one group of strikers argued: "The soldiers will come back sooner, the war will end of its own accord on the day we cease building weapons and munitions of war."

Antiwar sentiment grew even more manifest throughout the autumn of 1917. . . By the spring of 1918 antiwar sentiment played a decisive role in the largest strike of munitions workers during the war. . . The granting of the Nobel prize in literature in November 1917 to French pacifist writer Romain Rolland—("I find war detestable, but those who praise it without participating in it even more so.")—helped to [further] legitimize antiwar sentiment.

From: The Moral Disarmament of France: Education, Pacifism, and Patriotism, 1914–1940
By Mona L. Siegel

Saturday, December 7, 2019

Remembering Pearl Harbor: The USS Arizona in World War I — A Roads Classic

The USS Arizona, New York Harbor, 26 December 1918

The battleship USS Arizona is remembered today because of its tragic demise at Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941 and its status as a national memorial. However, it was on the navy rolls for the entirety of America's involvement in the Great War. Advertised as the most modern "super-dreadnought" afloat, with its sister ship the USS Pennsylvania it was certainly a candidate for  the world's most powerful man-of-war. It had 12 14-in guns, armor ranging from 13.5 to 18 inches, and was propelled by four sets of steam turbines. So how did the U.S. Navy use this mighty ship in the Great War?

Both ships of the class were used for training and ceremonial purposes up to and after the Armistice. Arizona's specific mission was to train the gun crews of the cargo ships that were being armed. She suffered the indignity of having some of her 5-inch guns dismounted for use on the freighters. (Pennsylvania, meantime, served as flag ship of the Atlantic Fleet and performed other training duties.) Now why hold them out of the battle zone? The official line is that burned fuel oil, which was in short supply in the European theater. In 1917 the U.S. sent a number of coal-fired battleships that served with the Grand Fleet out of the Firth of Forth. Later in the war the Navy used some additional battle-wagons that were oil fueled but not its most modern ships. Possibly it was judged unwise to expose the Navy's biggest investment to a lucky shot from a U-boat.

Once hostilities ended, though, Arizona was among the ships chosen to escort President Wilson to France for the Peace Conference and to participate in the fleet review (shown above) at New York Harbor on the day after Christmas 1918.


Friday, December 6, 2019

Doughboy Memories: Deploying "Over There"



Camp Dix, NJ, Ready to Ship Out

We'll be over, we're coming over,
And we won't come back till it's over over there.

After the April declaration of war, the American deployments to Europe were minimal, but for October 1917 the numbers jumped to over 30,000 for that single month. That level would be maintained over the winter months and would then begin growing exponentially through the summer, peaking at 10,000 men per day in July 1918. During the 19 months of U.S. involvement over 7.5 million tons of supplies also accompanied the troops.

Four Canadian and six American embarkation ports were used for transporting the AEF. Nearly 83 percent of the Doughboys (1,656,000), however, departed from New York area ports, including Hoboken, NJ.

At four o'clock we started down the main road leading to the railroad station. As we passed the other barracks, heads appeared at the windows to wave farewell to some comrade or to wish the men good luck and "God's Speed." The hour being early, there were no people at the station with the exception of the regular force and a former member of our company. He had been transferred two days previous to another organization that was to remain in the United States. There were tears in his eyes as he wished us good luck.

News of our coming had evidently preceded us for whistles and sirens blew and along the way workmen waved to us from various buildings. At Jersey City a crowd of people had gathered. We passed through the crowd in a lane made by soldiers with fixed bayonets. A ferry was waiting for us that took us to the "Bush Terminal" at Brooklyn. A few minutes wait on the pier and the battalion filed up the gangplank, receiving a final checking as they did so, to board HMS Kia Ora.
Albert Haas, 78th Division


Doughboys Embarking onto a Navy Warship

Fully half of the AEF was transported by British-controlled vessels. The American share constituted another 45 percent, although a good part of this work was accomplished by German vessels seized by the government. Allies Italy and France provided the remaining 2 to 3 percent of the shipping needs.

The most popular debarkation sites were Brest (791,000) and Liverpool (844,000). A surprising detail is that almost 50 percent of the men initially landed in England rather than France and then traveled across Britain and the Channel to the continent.

Each man was given a cloth tag which was to serve as his meal ticket besides showing the number of his hatch, letter of his deck, number of his bunk and [life] raft or boat number. This tag was to be worn at all times and to be punched at each meal.
Al Burns, 113th Engineers


In Transit to France—Lifeboat Drill

The trip Over There was both exciting and boring for the soldiers. Lifeboat drills and the sounding of U-boat alarms livened things up. Troop losses in transit were low but not non-existent, as some sources claim. Most notably the sinking of SS Tuscania and HMS Otranto led to multiple American fatalities.

The torpedo had struck us [aboard the SS Tuscania] squarely amidships on the starboard side. A great hole was torn in the hull. . . These ten or fifteen minutes elapsing from the moment we were struck were filled with action. With all indications of a speedy sinking staring us in the face, we worked feverishly to lower the lifeboats and cut away the rafts. . .
Henry J. Askew, 20th Engineers Aboard Tuscania


4th Infantry Arriving at Brest, France

All in all, and despite the somewhat helter-skelter rapid mobilization of the nation, the transport of the AEF to Europe was a tremendous success, given that the German Admiralty had boasted that not a single American soldier would ever set foot in France. By Armistice Day, 2,057,675 members of the military had been transported to Europe.

A Frenchman raised his cap and waved to the soldiers leaning over the rail and cried, "Vive l'Amerique? Vive les Americaines!" A Doughboy on the deck called back through his hands, "Vive yourself, you damned frog!"
Charles M. DuPuy, 79th Division


American Troops Parade in Liverpool, England

Had the war continued into 1919, 2 million more Doughboys were to be sent Over There during the first half of the year. Fortunately, they were not to be needed.

Dear Wife,
Will write you a few lines to let you know that I am all OK and doing fine. . . The place we are in now is sure fine, and the people treat the U.S. boys like kings and they sure cheer us when we go marching by.
Wayne Wills, 28th Division



Thursday, December 5, 2019

Under Fire at Jutland




By a Midshipman from the Fore-top of the Battleship HMS Neptune

My action station was in the control top, some 60 or 70 feet above the upper deck, access to which could be gained either by ascending an interminably long iron ladder running up the interior of the mast, or by climbing up outside the tripod by means of iron rungs riveted  on the struts. Experience of the difficulties of ascent had induced me some time ago to have made a blue jean bag, in whose capacious interior I always kept the thousand and one gadgets so essential for the proper and comfortable fighting of an action,  ear protectors, binoculars, a stop watch, a pistol, a camera, a respirator, sundry scarves, woolen helmet, and so forth. It was armed with this weighty 'battle-bag’ that I clambered up the starboard strut of the foremast, past the steam siren (which sizzled ominously as one approached it;  (it is an abominable experience to have a siren actually siren when you are near to it !), through a belt of hot acrid funnel smoke, and finally into the top through the "lubber’s" hole. . .

It is a curious sensation being under heavy fire at  a long range. The time of flight seems more like 30 minutes than the 30 or so seconds that it actually is.  A great rippling gush of flame breaks out from the enemy’s guns some miles away, and then follows a pause, during which one can reflect that somewhere in that great ‘no man’s land’ 2 or 3 tons of metal and explosive are hurtling towards one. 

The mountainous splashes which announce the arrival of each successive  salvo rise simultaneously in bunches of four or five to  an immense height. One or two salvos fell short of  us early in the action, and the remainder, I suppose, must have gone over as I did not see them. The Hercules, four ships astern of us, had been straddled on deployment, a feat which had greatly impressed me with the capabilities of the German gunnery, but, with the exception of the Colossus, which received a 12-inch shell in the fore-superstructure and sundry small stuff  round about her fo’c’sle, no single battleship suffered any real damage from the German’s gunfire. 

The  enemy, however, clearly received some punishment as two battle cruisers, which were rather closer than were their other ships, were engaged by us and by most ships of the rear squadron at one time or another, and we  saw at least two of our salvos hit, after which the two enemy battle cruisers dropped astern, to all appearances badly damaged. The warm, red glow of a ‘hit' is easily distinguishable from the flash of a salvo, and  is extremely pleasant to look upon. 

Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Machine Gun Lessons from the Somme




Despite heavy reinforcement, the 1st and 2nd German Armies at the Somme continued to suffer from a shortage of artillery and munitions throughout the 1916 battle. Consequently, with limited artillery support, German infantry at the Somme was often left to its own devices for defense. Hand grenades, once a specialist weapon, were used extensively to aid in  defense, as were a growing range of small-caliber mortars. Both types of weapons gave the infantry some much-needed close support.

However, it was the machine gun that really provided the fire support so required by the defending infantry. "Lessons-learned" reports recognized the centrality of the machine gun to the success of the defense on the Somme. The 1st Battalion, Reserve Infantry Regiment 28 wrote: “The infantry battle was always supported by our machine guns. As long as the machine guns and their crews were intact, every English attack was bound to be beaten back.”

As machine guns became more and more important, German units quickly found that they could never have enough of these. Most regiments had an establishment of 15 machine guns at the beginning of the battle. The 1st Army was successful in finding enough guns to bring this up to 25 or 30 over the course of the battle.

Prior to the battle, German defensive doctrine maintained that machine guns should be employed in the forward-most trench. However, the battle showed that guns deployed forward would quickly be destroyed. Instead, units deployed their machine guns in depth in shell holes with instructions to fire only at the last minute to avoid being spotted by enemy aircraft. The 183rd Infantry Division wrote:“Single machine guns deployed outside of trenches proved themselves to be especially  worthwhile in the battle, since they were not discovered by enemy artillery, which concentrated mainly on the trenches. Repeatedly, enemy breakthrough attempts were brought to a halt by machine guns deployed like this.”

The battle showed once again the importance of flanking gunfire, which had a great moral effect on the enemy and helped keep guns hidden. Indeed, some units even took to using a barrage of fire from machine guns firing over the heads of the frontline infantry. Of course, the importance of machine guns was also recognized by the Entente, and every effort was made to put them out of service. Consequently, gun crews suffered high casualties. Based on previous experience, the machine gun company of Infantry Regiment 65 went into the line with more crews than needed and asked for additional infantrymen to be assigned as the battle wore on.

This company also recommended that once a gun fired, it should change position, as the enemy focused his artillery on German machine guns. Reports after report stressed the need for more men to be trained to use machine guns, both German and enemy, to take the place of the gun teams when they were wounded or killed. Consequently, one of the key recommendations to come out of the battle was that training on machine guns be extended to ordinary infantry men as well.

Indeed, the battle of the Somme proved once and for all that the days of a uniformly armed infantry were well and truly over. From this point on, infantry units would be armed with a wide array of weapons, from rifles to hand grenades to small mortars and to ever increasing numbers of machine guns.

Source: "Learning War’s Lessons: The German Army and the Battle of the Somme 1916," Robert T. Foley, University of Liverpool

Tuesday, December 3, 2019

Blanc Mont Ridge 1918: America's Forgotten Victory


by Romain Cansière and Ed Gilbert
Osprey Publishing, 2018
Courtland Jindra, Reviewer


Depiction of the Fighting on Blanc Mont by George Harding

Though I've lived in California for many years, I am a native Texan. For that reason, the Battle for and around Blanc Mont fought by the Army and Marine 2nd Division and the Texas-Oklahoma National Guard 36th Division, has interested me ever since I really started diving into WWI history. The 36th Division's exploits around St. Etienne are highly visible in the Texas Military Museum at Camp Mabry, Austin. However, when one reads about the AEF the battle is rarely brought up, and then it is only in passing. This is even more surprising given the involvement of the Marine Brigade, arguably the most famous single American military unit in the war. When I visited France in 2018, one of the things I wanted to see most was the Blanc Mont Memorial and it was one of my favorites. For these reasons, I was extremely eager to finally sit down and read Blanc Mont Ridge 1918: America's Forgotten Victory.

The book is very short but provides some in-depth information. The volume is broken down into a few short introductory chapters where backstory is given on the war, the position itself, the opposing forces, and the respective commanders. I especially enjoyed the different Order of Battle breakdowns.

A fairly lengthy chapter summarizes the month-long engagement on an almost day by day basis. There are some fantastic maps included to help the reader figure out exactly what happened on the ground. Though I still got turned around a few times, these are by far the best maps I've seen in a book on the Great War as far as orienting me on the battlefield. It's often one of my main criticisms with these books that I get lost with who is where (not to mention that often places that are named in the text aren't even included on the maps). In this case, I mostly knew exactly where everyone was. Also, bravo to the illustrations by Graham Turner, which were all excellent and should be hanging on someone's wall at home.

There's a small summary section where the authors attempt to explore the legacy of the battle. They explore what happened to the 2nd and 36th Divisions after the fighting, the monuments and memorials to be seen in the area today, and why exactly the struggle, one that Phillipe Pétain called "the single greatest achievement of the year 1918 campaign" is now little more than a footnote. They suggest that General Lejeune himself might have been to blame, thinking he was outfoxed by the French in how he deployed his forces in the battle.

While at times the book is a little on the dry side, overall it reads quickly. Not only are there numerous maps but it is also filled to the brim with photographs, both from the era and of the region today. These also help bring alive the text, even if things occasionally bog down with unit movements.

I have been told there is at least one other book on the battle coming down the pipeline. Perhaps the battle will not be forgotten much longer.

Courtland Jindra

Monday, December 2, 2019

Redemption: British Forces Recapture Kut-el-Amara, 24 February 1917


British Forces on the March in Mesopotamia

Almost exactly ten months after the surrender of General Townshend to the Turks in Kut-el-Amara, British, troops have again entered this squalid little town on the left bank of the Tigris. It has been clear from General Stanley Maude's recent messages that the British could have reduced Kut to a heap of mud bricks at any time during the past month or so. The actual entry into Kut could also have been effected much earlier than has been the case, but the urgency of the operations had disappeared after it was seen that they had failed to effect the relief of General Townsend's force.


General Stanley Maude (1864–1917)
After that event the British were able to devote more time to the important matter of communications and supplies, and the capture of the town of Kut became a secondary consideration to that of preparing to break the military power of the Turk in this region. The encircling movement on the southern side of the Tigris, the advance along the Shatt-el-Hai, and the crossing of the Tigris, westward of Kut at the Shumrou bend, combined with the simultaneous attacks on the Sannalyat positions farther eastward have had a far-reaching effect upon the Mesopotamian operations. Not only have the British secured what remains of the town of Kut, but they have caused the collapse of the whole of the strong Turkish defensive positions eastward of that town, which previously baffled all attempts of the British relief forces to advance on the northern side of the Tigris. In addition to this, they have secured 1730 prisoners, inflicted heavy casualties on the enemy, and forced him to retreat in the direction of Baghela, a town lying on the southern bank of the Tigris, about 25 miles west of Kut.

While all this was very satisfactory, it must not be forgotten that the British here are fighting in difficult country, and that a distance of over 100 miles still separates them from Baghdad, while the journey by river is over twice that distance. In any further British advance which is made in this direction the matter of communications will have to receive additional attention, and by this factor the rate of progress will probably be governed. The river above Kut, however, does not offer so many difficulties to navigation as it does lower down, and the current between Baghdad and Kut is not so severe as it is between the latter town and Basra. [Baghdad, in fact, would fall quickly, on 11 March 1917.]

Source: Sydney Morning Herald, 28 February 1917

Saturday, November 30, 2019

Kaiser Willhelm II Sends Bismarck Packing


"Dropping the Pilot," British Cartoon, 1890

Incompatible in temperament, aspirations, and methods for conducting diplomacy, Bismarck and the Kaiser worked together for two years before the "Iron Chancellor" was sent packing. Wilhelm subsequently played a more personal and often destructive role in shaping policy, with the Russian-German relationship quickly withering.

After Kaiser Wilhelm II's accession to the throne in June 1888, conflict between the old chancellor Bismarck and the 29-year-old emperor was almost inevitable. Tensions came to a head over the workers' question and how to deal with the Social Democrats. Germany had experienced a wave of strikes in 1889, and opinion was divided on how to meet the challenge. Wilhelm II did not want to start his reign with bloodshed. His Royal Decree of February 1890 promised social reform and workers' protection. But Bismarck was more inclined toward a collision course with the Social Democrats, who had emerged from the Reichstag elections of February 1890 with more votes than any other party. He hoped to provoke a domestic crisis that would make him indispensable. On 15 March 1890, Bismarck was awoken at 9 a.m. with the news that the Kaiser wished to see him in the Foreign Office in half an hour's time. At last the break between the two men could no longer be postponed, and a rancorous, awkward scene resulted, leaving Bismarck no choice but to offer his resignation. As it happened, more than two days ensued before he did so, during which time both men tried to seize the tactical advantage (Bismarck wanted to draw up a letter of resignation that could be published later).

Source: German History in Documents and Images

Friday, November 29, 2019