Of Those We Loved: A Great War Narrative Remembered and Illustrated

By I. L. "Dick" Read

Pen & Sword Military, 2013. 

First published in 1994

David F. Beer, Reviewer

Author with His Training Mates at Alsdershot, 1914
Note: All His Friends Were Killed or Wounded in the War
(Click on Image to Enlarge)

A certain mystery hangs over the origin of this fascinating and highly readable memoir. We never learn what the author’s initials I. L. stand for, but we do know he died in 1971. The book was first published in England in 1994 and republished in 2013, copyrighted to "The Estate of I. L. Read." I can only surmise that someone took original notes or a diary, plus pencil sketches by the author, and fashioned this excellent final work—an idea bolstered by the statement inside the book’s cover that the contents have been “refined over the years.”

But I’d rather talk about the book than play literary detective. Dick Read joined the Leicestershire Regiment in 1914 at the outbreak of war. He was an enthusiastic patriot with an extremely positive attitude. This attitude seems to have stayed with him throughout the war no matter what. He sees early combat in northern France and later at the Somme. He is wounded in the leg and recovers. In 1917 he’s commissioned into the Royal Sussex Regiment and is sent to Egypt to join his new battalion. The lengthy trip, by train and then boat, is described in detail and is one of considerable discomfort and fatigue. On arrival in Egypt he is almost immediately ordered back to France, so back he goes, spending some three months on his total travels. He arrives in time for the Second Battle of the Marne, where his valor earns him the Croix de Guerre, is in the Final Advance, and remains in the army after the Armistice, seeing duty with the British Army on the Rhine.

Although we encounter most of the main battles of the war in this memoir, more valuable in my opinion are the personal insights and attitudes we get from the text. Some are quite earthy. Read is told early on by an old salt about the gas masks they used at Ypres: “Them bloody things are no good—If Jerry sends over gas, piss on a spare sock and tie it over your nose and mouth. That’s what we did” (p. 21). There are scenes of devastation and dead soldiers, of course, but Read does not dwell on the ghastliness and horror of combat. He chooses the general rather than the detailed in his descriptions:

Soon after midnight the Nissen hut in the transit camp which we occupied near Mendinghem station had a narrow escape, a bomb dropping nearby which riddled the roof like a sieve, snuffed our candles, and knocked us all over. Upon the road outside lay two American soldiers, unfortunately past aid…It was said that a cook had left his campfire uncovered, and that a passing flight of German Gothas en route for Calais or Boulogne had reminded us of the fact (p. 338).

Author's Sketch from Arras Sector

Only once in his narrative does the author express anger. It’s not toward the enemy but toward a group of his own countrymen: conscientious objectors, or "Conchies," as they were called. He sees a group of them at a depot while back in England for a spell:

An old colour sergeant was endeavoring, without success, to form them into two ranks as they stood about, many with hands deep in trouser pockets. They appeared so unusually slovenly that I commented on this to the sergeant of the guard on the main gate. ‘Them? Them there? They’re a bloody lot of Conchies…I’d shoot the bloody lot—look at ‘em!’ I looked, and saw them slouching around the perimeter…as they deliberately flouted authority by studied insolence and nonchalance amounting to open defiance. They had all refused to put on uniform…If hate is the word, I hated these figures of men just then, far more than any Germans. At least the Germans were worthy of respect as fighters (p. 276).

It seems that despite the dangers and discomforts, Read rather enjoyed his war. His "mates" or comrades as an NCO and later as a second lieutenant, mean a great deal to him. They’re all generous and supportive, ready to laugh at anything remotely funny or absurd, and they have plenty of fairly innocent adventures together whenever possible. In fact, I feel this book is an effective counterpoint to the myriad accounts that emphasize the horrors of the Great War and the abject misery of those who fought and died in it.

That Dick Read’s companions meant so much to him shines through the book. This is reflected of course in the title, Of Those We Loved. It’s also expressed at the beginning of Chapter 8, "The Somme," with the subtitle “To Our Comrades of the Somme, 1916,” followed by a quotation from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: .

For some we loved, the Loveliest and the Best.

That from his Vintage rolling Time hath pressed, .

Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, .

And one by one crept silently to Rest. .

According to information on the dust cover of the book, each year on the anniversary of the Somme until he died, Read had these lines inserted in the Leicester newspapers in memory of his WWI pals.

Not only is this book a splendid read that easily holds our attention, but it also contains many black and white pencil drawings by the narrator plus photos of him as a young soldier. The sketches intrigued me, the stark black and white contrasts evoking an almost haunting response to impressions of soldiers marching, bathing, or relaxing in their temporary billets. Several sketches of maps are included, roughly hand-copied from official maps of locations and battle plans.

I haven’t been able to find out much about I. L. Dick Read other than what he tells us in his narrative. It would be interesting to know who "refined" the text over the years after his death and who made the decision to publish it in 1994. Nevertheless, Of Those We Loved is a highly readable memoir that should be better known than it is. I highly recommend it and feel it deserves the recognition given to the more popularly esteemed publications in this genre.

David F. Beer