Year by Year—The Casualties Grew for the British Army on the Western Front

Click on Images to Enlarge

Stretcher Party, 1917

The Unprecedented Nature of the Great War

Battle casualties in conflicts prior to the Great War, although relatively high as a percentage of the participants, were usually quite low in numbers compared with what was to occur in the almost incessant fighting on the Western Front. Here there was a daily average of 5,000 deaths with a total casualty count on all fronts in excess of 11 million. Even the cataclysmic Battle of Waterloo in 1815 only produced 15,000 British casualties, whilst the first day of the Battle of the Somme, on 1 July 1916, alone produced 60,000 British casualties, of which 20,000 were killed. Another 360,000 British casualties were to follow as the Somme battle raged on until heavy snowfalls in November 1916 reduced the fighting to the level of local skirmishing. (The preciseness of some of the casualty figures often quoted for the various battles of the Great War belies the state of chaos and delay under which they were usually compiled and the admittedly limited clerical resources usually available to properly collate them. Here figures are rounded to more realistic approximations).

Moreover, in the earlier wars, the period that a soldier expected to be under fire, and in mortal peril, was much less. It is said that even the most famous and highly decorated British soldiers of the past had only spent a total of 24 hours, or so, actually under fire in their entire careers. During the Great War, such a period of exposure to intense warfare could be experienced by a British soldier in a single tour of duty "in the line."

Dr. David Payne

The Raw Numbers

Sources: First World War Centenary (Graph); "British Medical Casualties on the Western Front in the Great War," Stand To!, Aug-Sep, 2008.

With Our Backs to the Wall: Victory and Defeat in 1918

By David Stevenson 

 Belknap Press; First Edition, 2011

Reviewed by Len Shurtleff

Order This Work HERE

Though With Our Backs to the Wall is a book about how and why the Entente powers and America defeated Germany and its allies in World War One, author David Stevenson builds his case carefully by analyzing the Western Front deadlock of 1914–1917 along with the military and non-military factors that resulted in victory. Though he focuses on the Western Front where the outcome was eventually decided, he does not neglect subsidiary fronts in Poland and the Baltic, Italy, the Balkans, and the Middle East, as well as the home fronts of the various belligerents. 

In summary, Stevenson sees the Western Front armistice of 11 November 1918 coming as a result of  Ludendorff's loss of nerve in the face of Bulgarian collapse and Foch's converging offensives. By then,  the German Army was clearly running out of men even faster then the Entente, whose human  reserves were stretched to the limit. The Allies were blessed with much more surefooted leadership than the battered German and Austro-Hungarian Empires. By the summer of 1918 the economic and  political circumstances in all the Allied countries, including Italy, were far stronger than between  Germany and its allies. The Entente democracies proved far more resilient than the autocratic  societies of the Central Powers. Austria-Hungary was starving and beset with national separatism. Bulgaria was starving, its army barefoot as winter approached. In Ottoman Turkey, domestic conditions were chaotic and supplies for its armies catastrophic. The victors had clearly reaped the  benefits of a revolution in war production led by France and Britain, shared in by Italy, and financed  by American loans and raw materials. Their management of the war effort was superior in almost  every aspect in that the Allies built a superstructure of national and intergovernmental institutions  that while not perfect far outstripped anything Germany and her co-belligerents achieved. Most  important among many tactical and strategic innovations was the appointment of an effective and  talented generalissimo, Ferdinand Foch. 

At the same time, Ludendorff was crippling the  German Army through a series of desperate spring 1918 offensives designed to end the war before American troops arrived in force. These, while  tactically brilliant, were strategically pointless. Ludendorff succeeded only in killing his final reserves of infantry and extending his lines to indefensible lengths as the German home front disintegrated into political chaos. Reinvigorated by their successful defense and reinforced by fresh drafts  from England and America, the Allies  counterattacked and drove the fatally weakened Germans back to their own frontiers. In every aspect  from domestic politics to production, through sea  power, road, and rail logistics to command  intelligence, equipment, and frontline strength, the  victors in 1918 had the edge, and this gave them  victory. This author also wrote the notable work Armaments and the Coming of War, 1904-1914. 

Proust at War

Proust the Soldier

In 1889, a regiment in Orléans inducted an enlistee who was possibly the unhealthiest specimen in the history of the French Army. Afflicted with asthma, coughing spells, sleep disorders, and neurologic or psychiatric maladies that are still speculated about six score years later. Marcel Proust, future author of the seven-volume In Search of Lost Time (formerly translated as Remembrance of Things Past), nonetheless found his service time fascinating. Despite being refused the privilege of re-enlisting after a year's service, he thought about military matters the rest of his life. Certain insights, like this selection, appear in sections of his masterwork, much of which was written during the Great War.

The soldier is convinced that a certain indefinitely extendable time period is accorded him before he is killed. . . .That is the amulet which preserves individuals — and sometimes populations — not from danger, but from the fear of danger, in reality from the belief in danger, which in some cases allows them to brave it without being brave.

In a private letter written by Proust in the early days of the war he clearly foresaw what is in store for the combatants:

In the terrible days we are going through, you have other things to do besides writing letters and bothering with my petty interests, which I assure you seem wholly unimportant when I think that millions of men are going to be massacred in a War of the Worlds comparable with that of Wells,  because the Emperor of Austria thinks it advantageous to have an outlet onto the Black Sea. . .  I have just seen off my brother who was leaving for Verdun at midnight. Alas he insisted on being posted to the actual border. . . I still hope, non-believer though I am, that some supreme miracle will prevent, at the last second, the launch of the omni-murdering machine. . . With all my heart and very sadly yours,  Marcel Proust.

As critic Joel Rich wrote, "Marcel Proust's life was led, one might say, between two martial 'bookends'." One of these bookends was the Franco-Prussian War during which he was born, and which probably influenced his decision to enlist. When his second military bookmark, the Great War, first appeared in 1914, the army remembered their former soldier. He was regularly summoned to Les Invalides for medical examinations to judge his fitness to serve. Of course, over a quarter century, his symptoms had only worsened and he failed every examination. This allowed him both to continue writing and to observe Paris at war. A scathing account of his city worked its way into the seventh volume of Lost Time. As another literary commentator remarked about this section: "There is a stark, embarrassing contrast between life in Paris and life at the front. . . .women wear jewelry made of artillery shells, a somewhat morbid means of showing their patriotism. . . .the absence of young men resulted in a new social dynamic."

Marcel Proust died of bronchial pneumonia in 1922 shortly after the publication of his novel's seventh volume.

Sources: St. Mihiel Trip-Wire, July 2013; Letter from Marcel Proust to Lionel Hauser, 2 August 1914

Battle of Heligoland Bight

Where: Heligoland Bight, a bay which forms the southern part of the German Bight, itself a bay of the North Sea, located at the mouth of the Elbe river and the German naval base at Wilhelmshaven.

When: 28 August 1914

Royal Navy Units Participating: Harwich Force, supported by the 1st Light Cruiser Squadron and 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron.

Opposing Forces: Light cruisers and destroyers of the German coastal patrol.

Memorable As: An early "punch in the nose" to Germany's navy, whose losses included three light cruisers, a destroyer, and a torpedo boat, that constrained German naval aggressiveness and strategic thinking.

The Story: The battle was fought in a confusion of fog and haze on 28 August 1914, when a British attack led by Commodore Reginald Tyrwhitt was mounted on German coastal patrols—using the force of destroyers and submarines based at Harwich. The raid was covered by heavier forces, including Vice Admiral David Beatty's powerful "Cruiser Force A," the 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron and the 1st Light Cruiser Squadron, but the operation was marred by poor staff work. Beatty was only sent out at the last minute, and the main attackers did not even know he was coming.

Battle Cruiser HMS Lion Opens Fire

When action was joined, Tyrwhitt suffered gun problems with his new flagship, the light cruiser Arethusa, which was hit by a shell from a German cruiser. More German cruisers appeared to drive off the British destroyers. The day was saved by Beatty, reinforced by two more battle cruisers to make five in all.

The battle was a clear British victory. Germany had lost the three light cruisers SMS Mainz, Cöln, and Ariadne and the destroyer V-187 sunk; light cruiser Frauenlob had been severely damaged. The light cruisers SMS Strassburg and Stettin had also been damaged. German casualties were 1,242 with 712 men killed, including Rear Admiral Maass, and 336 prisoners of war. The Royal Navy had lost no ships and 35 men killed, with 40 wounded. Arethusa and two damaged British destroyers had to be towed home, however. The British made much of their victory, but within the Admiralty there was frustration. A better-planned operation could have done so much better.

Kaiser Wilhelm was aghast at the German losses and placed restrictions on exposing the fleet to action that, in turn, infuriated Admiral Tirpitz and began their mutual alienation.

Source: www.bbc.co.uk.

Recommended: Messy Nessy On Mata Hari's Missing Head

One of our favorite bloggers, Messy Nessy, who specializes in "Chic Curiosities" has published some fascinating research on the Great War's most remembered spy, Mata Hari.  Nessy's article opens, thus:

Her Severed Head Was Kept in a Paris Museum

Then It Disappeared!

The essay proceeds:

There are many reasons to tell the story of Mata Hari—an extravagant icon of femininity, famous burlesque performer, World War I spy, and “collector” of high-standing lovers – her life reads like a harlequin novel. Arguably one of the most curious (and morbid) anecdotes of her life occurred after her death (by execution, no less). As if her missing severed head wasn’t enough to lead with, it has also come to light that the rest of her body, which was entrusted to the Museum of Anatomy in Paris, also disappeared from the archives. So what happened to Mata Hari?

She was born as Margaretha Geertruida Zelle in 1876 in a town called Leeuwarden in the Dutch province of Friesland. The daughter of a successful hat merchant, Margaretha lived a very comfortable life until her father’s business went bankrupt and he left his family in the lurch. Two years later, her mother passed away, and Margraretha and her siblings then went to live with an uncle and aunt.

Margaretha’s uncle envisioned a very decent life for the 14-year-old and sent her off to the Dutch city of Leiden, to be trained as a kindergarten teacher. The young Margaretha had other things on her mind. She began flirting with the school principal—and was ultimately caught topless on his lap. Her career as a kindergarten teacher was nipped in the bud there and then, and she was sent away (again) to live with another uncle in The Hague.

At the age of 18, Margaretha came across an advertisement by a Dutch Colonial Army captain who was looking for a “girl of sweet character with the intention of marriage.” She responded to the ad, sending along a very enticing picture of herself. Despite a 21-year age difference, she married Army Captain Rudolf MacLeod on 17 July 1895. . .

The Jolly Couple

Read on HERE to enjoy M.N. editor Inge Oosterhoff's account of Margaretha's dud of a marriage, the couple's travels to Java, their inevitable divorce, her imaginative self-recreation as Mata Hari  (Eye of the Dawn) and international celebrity, her firing squad, and the postmortem detaching of her head, its preservation, and mysterious disappearance.

Credits: Article discovered by my better-half, Donna.  Thanks, Dear.

What Was the Amiens Gun?

"Bruno" in German Hands

The Amiens Gun was a railway artillery piece captured in the opening of the Battle of Amiens at Harbonnières, east of Villers-Bretonneux, on 8 August 1918 by the Victorian-based 31st Battalion of the Australian Army. It is considered one of the largest war prizes ever captured and placed on permanent display. The Amiens gun barrel weighs 45 tons (40,824 kilograms) and has a calibre measurement of 28 cm (11.15 inches). Fabricated in 1904 by Friedrick Krupp, it was originally a German naval gun until it was modified to be used as a railway gun during the World War. Nicknamed Bruno, the gun was originally fitted to SMS Hessen, the third of five Braunschweig-class battleships of the German Imperial Navy, in 1902. Five rounds were put through the barrel during the Battle of Jutland, the war’s largest naval engagement. Hessen was disarmed in 1916 to make way for more modern ships. 

Two years later, the repurposed gun, now rail-mounted, bombarded allied positions during the three-hour Battle of Amiens. The capture of the Amiens Gun by Australian and British soldiers was a significant achievement. Earlier in the summer of 1918, it had been used by the Germans to fire on the city of Amiens, about 25 km away, while highly camouflaged. Attempts had been made by the Allies to locate and destroy this powerful weapon, but to no avail. During the 8 August opening advance, the train was bombed by a British Sopwith Camel, causing the German soldiers on board to evacuate. Although RAF aircraft and British cavalry were the first to engage the gun, it was then quickly claimed by the advancing Australian infantry.

In Australian Hands

_________________

Salvaging the Amiens Gun

We had been sent with a quantity of Amanol to blow up the large gun … however Les Strahan one of our sappers in the party had been a driver in the Western Australian railways, and he found there was still a head of steam, he asked for a fair go, instead of blowing the gun up he got the engine going, we were told then to try to get it back if possible into a cutting so it could be camouflaged.

Corporal John Palmer, 8th Field Company

__________________

Final Resting Place: The Australian War Memorial

The Amiens Gun was later exhibited in Paris before it was sent to England for transport to Australia as a war trophy. Its home for 16 years was in Canberra, at Kingston railway station.  In 1942 the weapon was dismantled, the carriage was moved to Port Wakefield, South Australia, and it was used to test fire naval barrels for WWII. It was seen as too expensive to bring back to Canberra, so the carriage was cut up in the 1960s. The gun was meant to be put back together after its wartime disassembly, but all the parts were. melted for scrap except the barrel. The barrel, sporting authentic camouflage, has been on display at the Australian War Memorial since the 1960s.

Sources: Australian War Memorial; Australian Defence 

The Nieuport 28C-1 and the U.S. Air Service

Lt. Eddie Rickenbacker at the Controls of His
Nieuport 28C-1

At the time of the arrival of the AEF Air Service in France there was insufficient production of the top-of-the line SPAD to allocate this aircraft to the Americans. It was therefore decided to provide the Nieuport 28C-1 to the Americans until such time as the SPAD XIII became available. The AEF eventually took possession of 297 Nieuport 28 aircraft. The pilots of the Lafayette Escadrille had flown earlier models of the Nieuport, the N-11 and N-17 versions.

USAF Air Museum Example Marked to Represent
U.S. 95th Aero Squadron

Initial assignment of the machines was to the First Pursuit Group (the 27th, 94th, 95th, and 147th Aero Squadrons). Either the 150-hp Gnôme Monosoupape 4-N engine or the 160/170-hp Gnôme 9-N engine powered production machines. The aircraft was armed with two Vickers .303 machine guns—one mounted outboard of the left center-section strut and one on top of the fuselage to the left of the center-line. Some American squadrons used the American Marlin machine gun in lieu of the Vickers gun. For balloon attacks the Vickers guns would be replaced by a single 11 mm Vickers gun, armed with incendiary ammunition, and mounted in the inboard location.

The aircraft was not well received by the Americans because of its inability to effectively engage the Fokker D.VII. It also was both prone to shedding the fabric on the leading edge of the top wing in a steep dive and the engine had a tendency to catch fire. The aircraft served with the A.E.F. for about four months before being replaced by the SPAD XIII.

San Diego Air Museum Example Marked to Represent
the U.S. 94th Aero Squadron ("Hat in the Ring")

The French-built Nieuport 28 became the first fighter airplane flown in combat by pilots of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) in World War I. On 14 April 1918, resulted in two victories when Lts. Alan Winslow and Douglas Campbell of the 94th Aero Squadron each downed an enemy aircraft — the first victories by an AEF unit. [ARTICLE]

Despite its unpopularity, American pilots maintained a favorable ratio of victories to  losses with it. Many American aces of WWI flew the aircraft, including Captain Eddie Rickenbacker, perhaps the most famous of America’s airmen, who scored 12 of his 26 victories in his Nieuport 28C-1. The less  maneuverable, but faster and sturdier, SPAD XIII began replacing the Nieuport 28 in March 1918.

Video of Pilots of the 94th Aero Squadron flying the Nieuport 28C-1:

Close-up view of the Machine Guns

TECHNICAL NOTES: 

Armament: Two Vickers .303-cal. machine guns 

Engine: Gnome 9-N rotary of 160 hp 

Maximum speed: 122 mph 

Range: 180 miles 

Ceiling: 17,000 ft. 

Span: 26 ft. 3 in. 

Length: 24 ft. 4 in. 

Height: 8 ft. 

Weight: 1,625 lbs. loaded 

Sources: The USAF Museum; The Doughboy Center; San Diego Air Museum

A Baker's Dozen of My Favorite World War I Posters

 

"The Great Battle in France"

"The Liberation Loan"

"Ship Out of Here"

Supplemental Section—Added at Recommendation of a Reader (More Welcome, Enter in Comments.)

Battles East: A History of the Eastern Front of the First World War

Confident-Looking German Troops, Eastern Front 1915

Battles East: A History of the Eastern Front of the First World War

By G. Irving  Root

Publishamerica, 2007

This is a survey history of the vast Eastern Front, which extended for nearly 1,200 miles from the Baltic to the Black Sea across the Polish plains through the Pripet Marshes, the oil fields of Silesia, the Carpathian Mountains and the Iron Gates of the Danube and the Romanian Dobrudja. Nearly all the combatants on both sides were represented here: Russia, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey. Even the British and French had limited land and naval forces engaged by the end of the war.

Huge armies grappled in the east. The Germans alone had as many as two million men engaged at the height of the fighting, suffering over a million casualties over four years.  Austria-Hungary had over 44 divisions, half her army, deployed against Russia, which, in turn, deployed nearly half of her 294 divisions against the Germans and Austro-Hungarians. Casualty figures for Russia are unreliable but go as high as ten million military and civilian dead. Civilian losses, particularly among the hundreds of thousands of refugees (many of them Poles, Lithuanians, or Ukrainians) displaced in the deep Russian retreat of 1915, are impossible to determine. 

The author starts his survey with a review of the strategic position of the protagonists in 1914, moving through the overwhelming German 1914 victories at Tannenberg and the Masurian Lakes, the 1915 battles in Galicia and the Carpathians, the Brusilov Offensive and the defeat of Romania in 1916, the disintegration of the Czarist army and government in 1917, to the post-1918 battles between the Red Army and the newly independent Polish state, the Romanian invasion of Hungary and the actions of German Frei Korps, in the Silesian Plebiscite War of 1921. Also covered in useful detail are command rivalries within the Imperial German and Russian Armies and between the German and Austro-Hungarian commands, as well as the various treaties (Brest-Litovsk and Bucharest) ending the conflict. 

Click HERE If You Wish to Order This Book

In all, this is a valuable and readable addition to the slim library of WWI Eastern Front histories and well worth reading. Weaknesses include the maps (which though plentiful and detailed are monochromatic and hard to decipher) and exclusive reliance on secondary sources. 

Source: Relevance, November 2008

Weapons of War: The Italian Quick-Firer

Cannone Da 75/27 Modelo 11 in Transit

By James Patton

During the decades prior to 1914, perhaps the most significant advancement in land warfare technology was quick-firing field guns (“QFs”). Although the French invented them, by 1914 just about everyone had some version in service including many retro-fits. The Italian Army was no exception, with their Cannone Da 75/27 Modelo 11, which henceforth we’ll call the “75/27.”

It might be useful at this point to explain what a QF is. In the mid-19th century cased cartridges were invented for the new family of breech-loading small arms. By the 1880s the chemical and metallurgical glitches had been worked through and there was no obstacle to manufacturing cased artillery shells, even pre-assembled ones.  These would be a huge break through — they would eliminate most of the time spent in charging and loading the field gun. However, there remained the problem of recoil. When the gun is fired Newton’s Third Law of Motion specifies that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Thus, while the projectile is hurled forward the gun breech of the barrel is pushed with equal force, causing the gun (which is much heavier than the projectile), to “jump” backwards. This means that the gun has to be returned to the firing position and “relaid” (aimed again), both time-consuming steps. Led by the French Lt. Col. Joseph-Albert Deport (1846–1926) the first workable recoil absorption devices (also known as "recuperators") used pistons pushing against highly viscous oil, compressed air in sealed chambers and very stiff springs, sometimes used in combination. The design is exactly the same as in today’s automotive shock absorber. 

The “gold standard” QF was the French Canon de 75 Modèle 1897, (“French 75”) which used a hydro-pneumatic recoil mechanism with two pistons. While very effective (the recoil cycle was about two seconds) this design required precise machining and the use of O-ring type seals made from silver to keep the piston chambers from leaking. When the U.S. began to produce these guns under license, very close tolerances were achieved and a good gun became even better. Although rates of fire in excess of fifteen rounds per minute were possible, the barrel would soon overheat and the hydraulic oil would lose viscosity, so in actual use three to four rounds per minute was the limit. 

The Italian army was a little late in entering the game in 1911 when they turned to the French steelworks Compagnie anonyme de Châtillon et Commentry, located in Neuves-Maisons, whose in-house weapons designer was none other than ex-Lt. Col. Deport, who had been passed over for promotion in 1894. He set out to make a QF with a 75 mm (2.95 in.) bore, identical to the French QF, but using a shorter and lighter 6.35 kg (14 lb.) HE shell. The effective range was 10,240 meters, comparable to the French 75’s 11,000 meters. It was lighter than the French 75, 1,015 kg vs. 1,544 kg, an important difference in mountain warfare.

Knowing the limitations of machining at Fabbrica Armi Esercito di Terni, he selected a hydro-spring dual-recoil system, which featured a sort of lever welded to the bottom of the mouth of the barrel with a paddle on the other end which pushed against a spring inside of a rectangular oil reservoir located about six inches below the barrel and running the entire length of the barrel. This design, although more complicated, avoided the problems of leaking cylinder seals and of barrel heat thinning the oil (which raised the effective rate of fire to fifteen rounds per minute), but it was never used again. 

On Display at Mte. San Michele, Carso Sector

Since Deport had patented a split-trail design in 1908, on his own initiative he incorporated this feature into his Italian 75/27. This enabled it to be elevated to 65 degrees and made plunging fire a viable and deadly option. No other QF in the era could elevate more than 18 degrees and every field gun designed since the 75/27 has employed the split-trail.

The little Italian 75/27 was both obsolescent and futuristic. Total production was 1,341 guns and a few examples remained in service through 1945. The one in the photograph above was on static display at Monte San Michele in Italy in 2006. There is also a specimen in a museum in Finland.

The Frustrating Struggle for Hill 204 Above Château-Thierry

Hill 204 with the Huge American Monument Looming Over Château-Thierry

What is referred to in some sources as the “Battle of Château-Thierry” actually entailed four major operations by the forces General Pershing sent to fight under French command and in cooperation with French units:

1. The Defense Along the Marne River at ChâteauThierry (3rd U.S. Division)

2. The Ongoing Struggle for Hill 204 (two French divisions; elements 3rd and 28th U.S. Divisions)

3. The Battle for Belleau Wood (4th Marine Brigade and 2nd Engineers, 2nd U.S. Division; elements 3rd U.S. Division)

4. The Capture of Vaux (3rd Brigade, 2nd U.S. Division)

This article will focus on action #2, The Struggle for Hill 204

While the world's attention focused on the main defensive action of the Allies along the Marne River in late May and early June (action #2), German forces captured and strengthened a site that would allow them to physically dominate the entire Château-Thierry sector for the next seven weeks, holding it against fierce French and American onslaughts. Shown on battle maps as Hill 204 (meters), today it is the site of a magnificent U.S. monument to the fighting in the area. Hovering just to the west over Château-Thierry, the hill is the highest point in the region, allowing commanding views of the Marne valley, the Paris-Metz highway which runs across its base, and Bouresches village and Bois de Belleau to the north.

Hill 204 was taken on 31 May–1 June by advancing German forces, and its defense was assigned to the 401st Infantry Regiment. Much of the crest of the hill is filled by dense Courteau Wood, which was quickly turned into a machine gun-filled redoubt like Belleau Wood, except for providing better views of the approaching enemy forces. Its strategic position was also enhanced by the odd array of the Allied forces initially deployed almost randomly around its base. 

The two American divisions sent as reinforcements were both in the area but were not contiguous in the line. Just southeast of the hill along the river was the U.S. 3rd Division, while a mile to the west was the southernmost position of the U.S. 2nd Division. Immediately on the slopes of Hill 204, filling the gap between the two Americans formations, was initially the under-strength French 10th Colonial Division and later the 39th Division (after 26 June). This meant that the Allied forces facing the most important position on the evolving battlefield suffered from divided command and the smaller French divisions in the center would require reinforcements to assault the hill.

German Shelters Atop Hill 204
by Official War Artist J. Andre Smith

Nevertheless, numerous efforts were made throughout June to capture the hill, usually with elements of the U.S. 3rd Division supplementing a main French effort. On 6 June Courteau Wood was almost captured, but the Germans managed to regain it and drive the Allies back down the slopes. Doughboys of the 30th Infantry, 3rd Division, did manage to capture the village of Monneaux on the hill's westerly base during the operation. On 13 June two battalions of the 3rd Division provided the main manpower for another attack, one of which suffered 50 casualties in a failed effort. 

The most promising effort to drive the German defenders from Hill 204 came in early July in conjunction with the U.S. 2nd Division's effort to capture Vaux village on the northwestern side of the hill [Action #4]. At this time the U.S. 3rd Division's sector had been concentrated to the east of Château-Thierry and the French 39th Division had been placed directly in front of Hill 204, replacing the 10th Colonial Division. To augment the French portion of the attack—on Hill 204 proper—detachments of the 56th Brigade of the U.S. 28th Division were provided. The 153rd Infantry of the French 39th Division, supplemented by two companies of Americans, met stubborn resistance and was effectively smashed. 

A Yank deployed at Hill 204 describe the fighting in his diary:

Thursday, July 4th Sounded call to arms at 1:00 A.M. Rolled packs. Hiked 9 kilos to the Grand Forest near La Chapell. Selected to go on a raiding party at 204 Hill. Jocko, E. Watt, Auchuto, Tate and myself selected from Co I. Our barrage started at 10:20 A.M. Ceased at 12:20 P.M. Went over the top at 12:21. Absolutely no resistance until we entered a woods. Ran into several Machine Gun Nests in the wood. Frank Achuto had arm blown off. Earnest Watt killed by German sniper from a treetop. Got my first shot at a Hun who proved to be chained to his gun and to the tree. Advanced 1300 yards and took and held against big odds 204 Hill. Relieved by a French Regiment at 4:35 P.M. Just realized what I had been through. Saw legs, arms and men torn to bits by huge shells. The ground smelled of the dead bodies who had be [been] laying around for quite a while. Artillery doing good work.

Diary, Bugler Wayne W. DeSilvey, 112th Infantry Regiment, 28th Infantry Division 

From the American Monument, the Commanding View Held by the German Army Throughout the Fighting at Château-Thierry Can Be Appreciated

By 6 July a mixed force composed of French units, the trench mortar platoons of the Pennsylvania 111th and 112th Infantry Regiments, and two rifle sections of the 112th Infantry succeeded in capturing much of Bois de Courteau. It was the most successful operation against Hill 204 to date. During the night of 8–9 July, however, the Germans recaptured the woods from the French units occupying the positions. 

Nothing the Allies did locally managed to push the enemy off the hill. Larger events were required to bring this about. On 15 July, the Germans launched their fifth major offensive of the year between Château-Thierry and Reims. For the first time in 1918, the Allies were ready. They not only halted the attack in a single day but also mounted a counteroffensive three days later. Suddenly, all the German Army's forces deployed in the enormous salient between the Aisne and Marne Rivers were in jeopardy. On 21 July, a full withdrawal from the salient was under way, and Hill 204 was finally abandoned by its defenders that day, out of strategic necessity, not compelled by force of arms. 

Source: Over the Top, June 2018

Wake Up, England! — An Early Pro-War Poem

By Robert Seymour Bridges (1844–1930), Poet Laureate of England, 1913-1930. Bridges was educated at Eton College and Corpus Christi College, Oxford. He went on to study medicine in London at St Bartholomew's Hospital, intending to practice until the age of 40 and then retire to write poetry. Despite being made poet laureate in 1913, Bridges was never a very well-known poet and only achieved his great popularity shortly before his death with "The Testament of Beauty."  "Wake Up, England" was the first of 13 war poems he would publish during the Great War and its aftermath. His best known war contribution, however, was his anthology in prose and verse, The Spirit Of Man, that appeared in 1916.

Bridges was also a member of  Britain's war propaganda group at Wellington House. Nevertheless,  he was criticized for lack of production during the war.  At one point he said, "The war is awful. I can scarcely hold together. [...] Just at present I am far too disturbed to write, the communication with my subconscious mind is broken off."  His son Edward was posted to the western front in the autumn of 1915 and, shortly after the Bridges' home was gutted by fire, was repatriated wounded in February 1917 after receiving the Military Cross.

Edward, incidentally, would later serve with distinction as a civil servant and as Cabinet secretary during the Second World War. Postwar, Robert Bridges regained his productivity. Towards the end of his life he was awarded the Order of Merit capping of a distinguished career.

His father had died at his home, Chilswell, on 21 April 1930 and was buried at Yattendon. 

The Presidential Election of 1916, Part IV, Why Was the 1916 Election So Close?

A Premature Announcement

Most Republicans realized their 1912 split had elected Wilson and were determined not to fragment the party again, and Hughes had enough Progressive credentials to bring back most of those who had followed T.R. off  the reservation. He won all four states east of the Rockies that the Progressives had carried in 1912.

Hughes ran very strong in the northeast and the industrial tier of the Midwest. This was an area that had the most populous states and Hughes flipped all the states won by Wilson in these areas in 1912, except New Hampshire and the aforementioned Ohio. This included a large block of 112 electoral votes from  only three states: New York, Pennsylvania, and Illinois.

In the 1914 Congressional and State elections Republicans nation-wide experienced the traditional midterm election bounce-back by the losing side which helped strengthen state level committees. Consequently, Hughes also did well in the closely contested states, winning nine of 15 states where the margin of victory was less than five percent.

Final Results, Wilson in Blue, Hughes in Red (270 to Win)

The impact of all these effects made Hughes formidable in the Electoral College, even though President Wilson – who received 2.8 million more votes than in 1912 – won the popular vote. Absent the Republican disarray in Ohio, and that state's diversified demographics, he might have been president after all.

Sources: We adapted this series from several sources we should credit here—the Miller Center of the University of Virginia,  the American Presidency Project of the University of California at Santa Barbara, 270 To Win,  OurCampaigns.com,  and Gallup.com.

The Great War's Weather, Part II: How Nature's Fury Defined the War

WWI Weather Map Covering Western Front, Dec. 1917

By Meteorologist Thomas Meiners, Spectrum News

The First World War, occurring from 1914 to 1918, remains a testament to the endurance and ultimate sacrifice made by millions. Occurring over a century ago, the weather was far less predictable than it is now but was just as brutal as it can be today and made life for soldiers incredibly difficult, whether that was from extreme heat, freezing cold or flooding rainfall.

The weather had a significant impact on the war and was an enemy for soldiers in the trenches.  It was a major consideration for generals and their planners, as well. The British Met (Meteorological Office) responded to this challenge by issuing the first operational military forecast on 24 October 1916.

Extreme heat

Memberrs of the Royal Naval Division Suffering
the Heat at Cape Helles, Gallipoli

As the summer of 1914 unfolded, invasions were occurring and soldiers were traveling in the dog days of summer. Temperatures soared to unprecedented highs in northern Europe. At one point, a heat wave broke out, bringing temperatures above 86 degrees for several days straight early in the month.

Soldiers wearing wool uniforms and burdened with heavy equipment confronted the scorching heat as they navigated challenging terrains to reach the front lines. The extreme heat was then followed by unexpectedly early extreme cold, which made managing resources difficult.

Freezing cold

French Soldiers Bracing Against the Cold the
First Winter of the War

The bitter cold that gripped the Western Front during the winter months was a sharp contrast to the preceding summer of 1914. Temperatures in November of that year became much colder than average, leaving soldiers without winter coats in the harsh conditions.Help would come in December when gloves and winter coats would be handed out, but fur-lined boots wouldn’t arrive until January.

In 1917, a severe winter struck between Jan. 20 and Feb. 9, with temperatures never rising above freezing. In the middle of that arctic blast, one February night saw the overnight low plummet to a bone-chilling nine degrees below zero, rendering limbs and fingers numb.The soldiers would try their best to keep warm by building fires in the trenches, but that quickly proved fruitless because the smoke would become trapped and suffocate the men.

Flooding rainfall

British Sergeant in a Flooded Trench Near
Plug Street, Flanders

It wasn’t only smoke that became trapped in the trenches, but these long, zig-zag rows, often 12 feet deep, would become small rivers during heavy rain.

One of the most pervasive effects of weather on World War I was the relentless onslaught of rain. For 648 days - almost half of the war’s duration - rain and snow battered the Western Front, transforming trenches into mud and misery.

For over two weeks in Jan. 1915, over four and a half inches of rain fell in northeastern France, which was double what they would normally get during that time of the year. Torrential rainfall in 1915, 1916 and 1918 had a decisive role in major battles such as Verdun and the Somme, contributing to the death of over a million soldiers. 

Many times, large ridges of high pressure over Russia would produce extreme cold in the eastern part of Europe and result in a repetitive pattern of low pressure systems for western Europe, bringing little to no sunshine or heavy rainfall for the area. It’s worth mentioning that the war and the influenza pandemic teamed up with the hazardous weather to make for especially deadly conditions for those fighting.

Experts have uncovered data showing that the mallard ducks migration, influenced by adverse weather, likely played a role in the flu's transmission to humans, especially during the fall of 1917 and 1918.

Nearly 10 million soldiers were killed during World War I, with over 116,000 from the United states. The relationship between extreme weather and the severity of both the war and the influenza pandemic emphasizes the vulnerability of humanity to the forces of nature.

See our earlier articles on Winter Avalanches HERE, Alpine Warfare HERE, and Desert Warfare HERE

The Great War's Weather, Part I: Last Summer—1914

British Beach Scene, Summer 1914

By Dr. Esther MacCallum-Stewart

As another hot summer hits Britain, my local area announces its umpteenth hosepipe ban and all the lawns start to go a parched yellow colour, I'm once again reminded of the 'last' Edwardian summer, that of 1914. The mythology that surrounds this summer is astronomical, and any self respecting novel about the war seems to contain obligatory references to tea parties, sweltering heat and sunny days. In the vocabulary of the war, this summer has become a sign of impending doom and an oppressive and dangerous moment of pathetic fallacy. Whilst the worlds politicians steel themselves for war, everyone else pays tennis whilst occasionally glancing at the newspapers with a flippant comment about how the situation in Europe has nothing to do with Britain. The odd shaking of heads before heading out on country walks or for another round of suppressed sexual desire on the garden lawn seems rather to be the norm. Innocence and coming of age are combined, all of which are expected to pale into the background when war breaks out, everyone rushes to the recruitment office, and the progression towards disillusion and shattered lives can begin.

These ideals feed into a perfect depiction of England and its population. The rather dotty British obsession with the weather; the lounging about outdoors, the beauty of the countryside, the emphasis on a 'green and pleasant land', and finally, the traditional British reserve; ignoring the big events and unable to articulate the small. The summer of 1914 works as a perfect counterpoise to the war itself. At the same time it's become an inevitable part of the war story.

What has however struck me is the assumption that the summer of 1914 seems to addle people's brains in some way. For a start, nobody does anything except sit about outside. No domestic jobs are done, nobody works for a living (they go off and do that during the war, obviously!), and it gets dark suspiciously late. Secondly, the heat seems to somehow prevent political debate. Surely not everyone's reaction to the situation in Europe was either 'Oh, don't worry about some silly country no-one has ever heard of!' or 'There'll be a war; you mark my words!'. It seems to me that authors are very keen to induce a type of collective heatstroke that avoids anyone discussing war in complex ways. This of course means that when it does take its casualties, they will be all the more surprising to the participants.

Marienbad Spa, June 1914

The summer of 1914 was indeed, the hottest on record, and since British newspapers reported the weather on a regular basis since 1860, this is a fair claim to make. However, despite this, it all sounds rather good fun, in a jolly sort of way. Even the torrid affairs doomed to failure because of the inevitable shadow of war seem rather interesting. The reader is meant to see these acts as the last of an era, and after 1914 it always rains in the summertime of these novels. Yet somehow, I can't really see why loafing about outside until it gets dark and eyeing up carefree young men is such a bad thing at all. . .

Esther MacCallum-Stewart wrote this entry in the garden with a glass of Pimms, of course, but who cares about some silly war!

Dr. Esther MacCallum-Stewart once ran one of our favorite First World War blogs, Break of Day in the Trenches. She is now Chair of the British Digital Gaming Research Associaton and is heavily involved with the science fiction and fantasy fan communities.

Originally published in the St. Mihiel Trip-Wire, August 2006