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

Thursday, April 24, 2025

Siberian Briar Patch, Part II: AEF Siberia in Action

 

U.S. Commander William Graves and Staff with
Russian White Commander Grigoriy Semënov

The Military Mission

The military intervention into Siberia can be divided into three stages. These divisions are based more on official clarifications of duties, rather than any changes in military policy. A continuity, a consistency is present throughout the entire period of U.S. intervention, primarily to facilitate counterrevolution. The first stage is the period between the landing of U.S. troops and the acceptance by Washington of the Inter-Allied Railway Agreement (IARA) on 9 February 1919. The IARA imposed military control on the Siberian railways by clearly defining the respective responsibilities of the intervening forces on various sectors of the railway. For the Americans, this would confirm duties already assumed and create new ones.

Although obvious in whose interest the agreement worked, it was not until July that the purpose of the AEF was officially stated. During the summer of 1919, it was openly admitted that U.S. troops were in Siberia to maintain the supply line of the white leader, Admiral Kolchak. To the troops north of Vladivostok the latter was by that time an irrelevant technicality.


Japanese Troops Advancing in Force Against Red Troops

American troops had arrived at Vladivostok to much cheer, mostly furnished by themselves and the crew and band of the USS Brooklyn that had been stationed in the waters around Vladivostok since March. The Japanese commander, General Kikuzo Otani, greeted the Americans with more seriousness and urgency. By letter he advised Colonel Henry Styre, in temporary command whilst Graves was in transit, that Vladivostok was in peril of imminent invasion. The Americans were needed for the city's defense.

Unwilling to remain inactive and unable to verify Otani's story, Styre consented to join in what was later to be known as the Ussuri Campaign. The several companies sent to help "defend" the city caught up with the Japanese after six days hard marching and served as rear flank to the Japanese and Czech forces who were pursuing the Bolsheviki northwards up the Trans-Siberian. The campaign culminated at Khabarosk, 475 miles from Vladivostok, where the Stars and Stripes and the Rising Sun were raised together in a significant show of unity.

U.S. Major Samuel Johnson Commanding the
International Police Force of Vladivostok

Graves's first real examination of his troops came in October during a tour north of Vladivostok. He ordered back to Khabarovsk any troops he found west of the city that had continued to follow the Japanese in their pursuit of the Red Guard. Graves could "see no reason for keeping troops at any of these stations," although a number of troops were kept at important locations between Khabarovsk and Vladivostok. U.S. forces elsewhere got off to a less auspicious beginning, but equally partisan in the widening civil war. The majority of the 27th and 31st Infantry Regiments (dispatched from Manila) marched east of Vladivostok to establish a tent camp at Gornastaya Valley. The International Police Force was also created at this time under the command of a Russian-born American officer, Major Samuel Ignatiev Johnson.

An additional 250 troops were sent to the Soucha coalmines, located 75 miles northeast of the city. The mines consisted of 12 shafts and served as the fuel supply for the entire Primorsk province and for the operation of eastern Siberian railroads. The Suchan mines were the fuel for intervention and counterrevolution. The Allies set about immediately to secure the continued production of its coal. One of the first acts of the Allied leaders was to reinstate the previous mine manager, recently run out of the area by mine workers. To Graves, the mines proved to be the "stormy petrel" of his entire Siberian adventure. Most American causalities would be suffered protecting the spur lines linking the mines with the Trans-Siberian.


Guarding the Siberian Railroads

Click on Image to Enlarge


The Railway Agreement of February formalized some of these winter arrangements and added others. Although finalized in February, it took an additional two months to sort out which Allied force would protect each specific sector. (See map above.) Some 550 U.S. troops became responsible for the line running immediately out of Vladivostok to the town of Nikolsk-Ussuri, 68 miles north. Nikolsk-Ussuri, a town of 52,000 inhabitants, served as the juncture of the Ussuri line continuing to Khabarovsk, and the Chinese Eastern Railroad which crossed Manchuria, later to reenter Siberia. At Spasskoe, continuing north, 1,700 troops were responsible for the length of line leading to the town of Ussuri and the 40-foot long bridge crossing the river Ussuri 217 miles from Vladivostok. Another 1,900 troops were assigned to guard a branch line from Ulgonaya to the coal mines at Suchan. Two thousand men were also stationed 1,700 miles west to maintain the stretch of line between Verkhe-Udinsk and Mysovaya, where the Trans-Siberian reached the network of 38 tunnels linking eastern and western Siberia.


U.S. Railroad Guard Detail

With the railway agreement practicably enacted, U.S. troops were immediately confronted by the dilemma of professed "non-interference" while participating in counterrevolution. Graves continued to maintain his "neutrality" regardless, which in essence was to keep his expeditionary force as disentangled from the mire of civil war as long as possible. In a proclamation given to his troops to distribute in their sectors he outlined that:

The sole object and purpose of the armed forces of the United States of America. . . is to protect the railroad and railway property and ensure the operation of passenger and freight trains through such sector without obstruction or interruption.

The proclamation initially left the partisan guerrillas wondering just who the "Amerikanskiy soldat" was. They soon made up their minds. As such order on the railroad only benefited one side, the U.S. soldiers soon became justifiable targets of the partisans. Just as it allowed supplies to roll to counterrevolution forces in western Siberia, Allied control of the railways made White control of the east possible. White representatives in eastern Siberia used order on the railroad to either starve or attack "Bolshevist" areas. "We are making this condition possible," Graves wired Washington, "by our presence here."


Hospital Car on American Train

Even before U.S. sectors were chosen, U.S. troops north of Vladivostok were preparing for "anticipated...guerrilla warfare or general revolution with the recession of winter" due to the "unsettled political and economic conditions in eastern Siberia." As early as 14 March, partisans fired upon trains and "information was received that the partisans were recruiting for a vigorous spring drive against the Kolchak government." By late spring, U.S. forces finally settled in their allotted sectors, became swept up in that vigorous drive. Throughout March and April, attacks on rail freight, tack, and bridges increased. In May, Graves decided that to properly maintain "order" on the railways, U.S. troops would have to follow the attacking partisans into the surrounding countryside. The first active campaign began on 21 May in the vicinity of Maihe in the Ulgonaya-Suchan sector. Throughout the summer of 1919, the history of the AEF in eastern Siberia is one of skirmishes, attacks, and forays into the surrounding hills and valleys. On numerous occasions American combat patrols fought in conjunction with White Russian and Japanese forces. Over 200 U.S. soldiers were to fall in this partisan war. Twenty-five died on the morning of 25 June near the village of Romanovka during a dawn raid on their encampment.

Tomorrow: Siberian Briar Patch, Part III:  Time for AEF Siberia to Depart

Sources: Articles in the April and May, 2020, St. Mihiel Trip-Wire by Christopher T. McMaster, PhD


Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Siberian Briar Patch, Part I: President Wilson Sends the Army


August 1918: AEF Siberia Arrives in Vladivostok

After long consideration President Wilson decided that it was necessary to deploy American troops to Siberia [and also Murmansk and Archangel] in the midst of the Russian Civil War. His explanation for doing so are buried in an aide-mémoire (a diplomatic summary) of 17 July 1918 conveyed by the Secretary of State to the Allied ambassadors. The document (found HERE) covers all the fronts of the war.  Regarding any prospect for sending American forces, it makes a very good case for not doing so:

It is the clear and fixed judgment of the Government of the United States, arrived at after repeated and very searching reconsiderations of the whole situation in Russia, that military intervention there would add to the present sad confusion in Russia rather than cure it, injure her rather than help her, and that it would be of no advantage in the prosecution of our main design, to win the war against Germany. It cannot, therefore, take part in such intervention or sanction it in principle.

Yet the same paragraph also contained this rationale for sending armed forces to Russia.

Military action is admissible in Russia, as the Government of the United States sees the circumstances, only to help the Czecho-Slovaks consolidate their forces and get into successful cooperation with their Slavic kinsmen and to steady any efforts at self government or self defense in which the Russians themselves may be willing to accept assistance. Whether from Vladivostok or from Murmansk and Archangel, the only legitimate object for which American or allied troops can be employed, it submits, is to guard military stores which may subsequently be needed by Russian forces and to render such aid as may be acceptable to the Russians in the organization of their own self-defense. For helping the Czecho-Slovaks there is immediate necessity and sufficient justification.


Armored Train of the Czech Legion

Such a vague example of the president's rhetorical flair was to become the actual orders presented to the man chosen to command the expeditionary force, Major General William Graves. "Watch your step," Secretary of War Newton Baker warned as he handed Graves the pale brown envelope containing the memoir. "You will be walking on eggs loaded with dynamite".

By the time of his arrival in Siberia the general felt he could decipher his instructions fairly well. According to the memoir the AEF was not to become embroiled in the civil war; hence the "non-interference" in Russian internal affairs outlined in the document. Implicit in his orders was aid to the Czechs, which meant, first, maintaining order in Vladivostok. This was achieved in the form of an International Military Police force comprising troops from 12 nations and that preformed its duties in an efficient and disciplined manner.

Second, for the Czechs to consolidate their forces the railway system had to remain operable. Acceptance of this duty immediately compromised any "neutrality" sought by General Graves. The Czech Legion was in revolt against the Bolsheviks and were active partisans in the civil war. To maintain the railway system, moreover, was not just aid to the Czechs; it would benefit the counterrevolution that depended upon the railway. Graves had little illusion about the role his troops played in Siberia. "As I see this question," he would wire Washington, "we become a party, by guarding the railroad, to the actions of this governmental class".

His interpretation of Wilson's memoir was to gain the animosity of his allies, who called for more direct action, the violent response from Red partisans, and numerous calls for his replacement in favor of a more forceful American commander. If, however, Graves were a more impulsive leader, Chief of Staff Payton C. March later wrote, "we would have had to send 100,000 men to get them out alive". Graves was instructed by March 1919 during the intervention to continue his policy until changed by the president. This the president, who could ill afford 100,000 men, never did.


Major General William Graves

The military intervention into Siberia can be divided into three stages. These divisions are based more on official clarifications of duties, rather than any changes in military policy. A continuity, a consistency is present throughout the entire period of U.S. intervention, primarily to facilitate counterrevolution. The first stage is the period between the landing of U.S. troops and the acceptance by Washington of the Inter-Allied Railway Agreement (IARA) on 9 February 1919. The IARA imposed military control on the Siberian railways by clearly defining the respective responsibilities of the intervening forces on various sectors of the railway. For the Americans, this would confirm duties already assumed and create new ones.

Although obvious in whose interest the agreement worked, it was not until July that the purpose of the AEF was officially stated. During the summer of 1919, it was openly admitted that U.S. troops were in Siberia to maintain the supply line of the White leader, Admiral Kolchak. To the troops north of Vladivostok the latter was by that time an irrelevant technicality.

Tomorrow:  Part II, AEF Siberia in Action

Sources: Articles in the April and May, 2020, St. Mihiel Trip-Wire by Christopher T. McMaster, PhD


Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Jutland: The Unfinished Battle by Nicholas Jellicoe


British Destroyer HMS Onslow on the Attack during the Jutland Night Actions (Click on Image to Enlarge)

By Nicholas Jellicoe

Naval Institute Press, 2018 Reprint

Reviewed by Holger Herwig


Excerpted from "Jutland: Acrimony to Resolution," Naval War College Review, Autumn 2016.

It now has been [over] one hundred years since the battle of Jutland. Beatty and Jellicoe both rest in the crypt of Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London. Armies of naval historians have dissected every aspect of the battle, and have come up with intriguing names such as “Flawed Victory,” “Distant Victory,” “Jutland Scandal,” “The Riddle of Jutland,” “The Truth about Jutland,” “The Jutland Epic,” “The Blindfold Game,” “The Rules of the Game,” “The Smoke Screen of Jutland,” “Sins of Omission and Commission,” and “Our Bloody Ships or Our Bloody System,” among countless others.

Thankfully, we now have a superb analysis, Jutland: The Unfinished Battle (2016), from Nicholas Jellicoe—the admiral’s grandson. This source at first  light might seem to be prejudiced, but that is not the case. Obviously aware of the possible suspicion of bias because of his last name, Nicholas Jellicoe has gone out of his way to offer both the general reader and the naval expert a balanced,measured, and yet nuanced account of the greatest sea battle of World War I. He weighs and measures. He offers conflicting accounts and interpretations.

He evaluates sources. He compares British and German eyewitness and official accounts and statistics. He judiciously examines the accounts by John Harper, Reginald Bacon, and the Admiralty discussed above. And then he offers his own best opinion. Along the way, he provides the layman with text boxes and sidebars to explain the complex naval systems in place at Jutland, and he further includes countless diagrams to explain ship locations and movements.

Nicholas Jellicoe apportions praise and criticism in equal amounts. Tactically, Jutland was a German victory and a “bad blow” for both the Royal Navy and  the nation. Hipper’s leadership of the German battle cruisers had been “brilliant,” Scheer’s two “battle turns away” and his ultimate escape “remarkable.” German signals and communications had been “exemplary,” those of the British “lamentable.” Jellicoe’s system of command had been rigid, a “vestige of the Victorian past.” Beatty’s reconnaissance and reporting had been a “failure.” Beatty’s obsession with rapid firing and the resulting storage of cordite next to the gun turrets, rather than improper flash protection, had caused the loss of the battle cruisers.


Click HERE to Order


The role of the new weapons of the day—mines, torpedoes, and aircraft—had been overrated before the battle, and negligible in its outcome. Both navies had fought the battle unexpectedly and discovered it to be highly complex, and had fought under difficult conditions of wind, rain, smoke, heavy seas, and fading light. Both sides regarded it as an “unfinished battle.”

Strategically, Nicholas Jellicoe joins the bevy of historians who have argued that Jutland was a British victory. “The issue at stake,” he writes, “had been sea power.” One side exercised it; the other sought to gain it. Afterward, the arteries of seaborne commerce, Alfred Thayer Mahan’s maritime highways, remained open to Britain and closed to Germany. Reinhard Scheer, the putative “victor of the Skagerrak,” accepted this reality when, in his after-action report of 4 July 1916 to Wilhelm II, he forsook future “Jutlands” in favor of “the defeat of  British economic life” by way of unrestricted submarine warfare “against  British trade.”

The High Sea Fleet, in Churchill’s stinging remark of February 1912, indeed had been but a “luxury” fleet.

Holger Herwig

Monday, April 21, 2025

The Mighty Royal Arsenal Woolwich in the Great War


Click to Enlarge Image

In the Gun Factory at Woolwich Arsenal, 1918,
George Clausen


By Greig Watson, BBC News

From the 17th century, the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, was an establishment on the south bank of the River Thames in Woolwich in southeast London, England, that was used for the manufacture of armaments and ammunition, proofing, and explosives research for the British Army and Royal Navy. 

It was a factory like no other in World War One. The Royal Arsenal was spread across a swathe of southeast London, and it was devoted to the delivery of death. The Woolwich-based factory was at its peak during WWI, covering 1,285 acres, filled with dozens of buildings and employing about 80,000 people. It was the focus for some of the seismic shifts the war prompted, from how war was fought to how Britain was run.

"The Arsenal was fundamental to the war," says Paul Evans, from the Royal Artillery Museum. 

"Artillery dominated the battlefield and the Arsenal was at the head of everything to do with artillery.

"It was everything. It was research, it was manufacturing, it was testing, it was inspection. You lose the Arsenal, you lose the war."


Click to Enlarge Image

Partial View of the Arsenal, Post WWI

From a patch of open ground used to test 17th-century guns, the Arsenal was already a sprawling complex at the start of the 20th century, with more than 10,000 workers. Buildings like the Royal Brass Foundry, Great Pile, Laboratory, and Grand Store hint at its history and scale. It even had its own steel foundry and railway.

By the early 1900s though, it was a hotchpotch of semi-independent departments that had defied attempts at modernisation. But change was coming. As an English Heritage study of the site put it: "When war did break out in 1914, the Arsenal was congested, inefficient and no longer innovative. . . Yet, at huge cost, it was mobilized, and feminized, into exceptional productivity."

The unexpected appearance of trench warfare meant Britain's carefully prepared stock of shrapnel artillery shells—designed to be used against armies in the open—was next to useless. As battles became immense slugging matches between ever larger guns—366,000 fired in four days by the British at Loos in September 1915, for example—the army ran low on its main weapon, high-explosive shells. And of those arriving at the front, up to 30 percent proved to be duds.



Entrance Gate: Then & Now


The Wartime Workforce

At its peak, the Arsenal covered 1,300 acres and employed around 80,000 people, Mr Evans says: "It was nobody's fault, it was just the way the war worked. . . If you take all of your skilled labour out of the factories and turn them into soldiers, you quadruple the demand for what they are making anyway, and with the people you have brought in you are trying to cut corners anyway to keep up with the pace, it's not going to work."

David Lloyd George, the Minister of Munitions from May 1915, made two big changes. He increased government control over weapons production—then largely in private hands—and sought to bring women into the workplace. Nowhere was this felt more than in Woolwich, where eventually almost 30,000 women were employed.


Female Staff of the Arsenal


Caroline Rennles was already a "canary"—turned temporarily yellow by working with TNT explosive—when she went to make bullets at the Arsenal. Interviewed in 1975, she described the unforgiving conditions.

"We would work 13 days out of 14," she said.

"You would work 13 days 7 a.m. until 7 p.m., have a day off that's all, then do 7 p.m.  until 7a.m.

"On the night shift, the place would be lit with little lamps and you had just enough light to see what you were doing."

First used in the Arsenal's small arms factory, women soon moved into heavy work, such as heavy arms, trucking, crane-driving and "danger work"—handling high explosives.

Changes were not confined to women—in 1914, the site's research department's Explosives Section had only 11 chemists. By 1918, it had 107. So great was the shift in number and nature of the workforce that nearly 3,000 new homes had to be built on the Well Hall Road and a 700-place creche—believed to be the country's first in the workplace—was set up.


King George V & Queen Mary on a Visit to the Arsenal


Despite inexperienced workers dealing with munitions, there were no large accidents at the Arsenal—but the explosion at the nearby Silvertown munitions works, which killed 73 in January 1917, underlined the dangers.

The shells began to flow. And how.

Mr Evans gives some examples of the numbers: 

"Expenditure of ammunition in France; 6in howitzer shells, 22,387,363; 18 pounder ammunition, 99,897,670 rounds fired at the Germans. Altogether, 170 million rounds were dropped on the Germans. And that is just on the Western Front and that doesn't include bullets. There were lots of big guns, firing lots of shells. It explains those photographs of blasted landscapes."

But victory, when it came, was bittersweet.

Female workers began to be laid off even before the war ended, but all staff suffered. The Royal Arsenal was regarded as crowded, out of date, and dangerous in such a built up area. By 1922, the workforce had fallen to just 6,000. Bit by bit areas and buildings were sold off, converted, or demolished.  In the Second World War the arsenal grew again, of course, but only to half the staffing of the Great War. 


Still Standing:  the Main Administrative Building


The focus of the site grew less military over the next decades. The Royal Regiment of Artillery was last to leave, in 1998. Large areas have now been redeveloped as housing, but a link is maintained as Firepower, the Royal Artillery Museum, also occupies part of the site.

Bonus Feature:

Join Joolz, London's Greatest Guide, on A Whimsical & Wonderful Wander in Woolwich Arsenal, London



Sources:  BBC, Wikicommons, Woolwich Arsenal History, Imperial War Museum, and Joolz Guides–London History Walks


Sunday, April 20, 2025

Kaiser Wilhelm II's 1917 Easter Message


Editor's Introduction:  Until March 1917 when he was overruled by the military, Imperial German Chancellor Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg’s efforts on the home front were focused on holding together the so-called “civil truce” and ensuring maximum domestic support for the war effort. Conditions at home became critical in late 1916 and Bethmann prevailed upon the Kaiser to issue his “Easter Message” of 7 April 1917, which turned out to be the day after  the United States declared war on Imperial Germany.  The Kaiser seemed to  promise a reform of the Prussian suffrage and the Prussian upper house of parliament after the war, but this was too vague for the left and even Bethmann was now convinced that the three-class suffrage had to be abolished. At the same time the mere promise of reform created powerful enemies for the chancellor on the right. Bethmann was effectively forced by the military leadership to resign on 13 July 1917.  MH


The German Empire's Leaders Who Decided on Unrestricted Submarine Warfare
(left to right) Hindenburg, the Kaiser, Chancellor Bethmann, the King of Bavaria, Ludendorff, and Admiral Holtzendorff

Presented to the Prussian Parliament

Never before has the German people proved so unshakable as in this war. The realization that the Fatherland faced a grave emergency exerted a wonderfully conciliatory force, and despite all the sacrifices of blood that we made on foreign fields, and despite all the difficult privations that we bore at home, the will has remained unshakable to risk the utmost for the last, victorious struggle. The national and social spirits were unified in mutual understanding and gave us lasting strength. Everyone felt: what had been built up during long years of peace, amid many internal difficulties, was worth defending.

The achievements of the whole nation in war and need shine before my soul. The experiences of this struggle for our national existence are inaugurating a new epoch in magnificent solemnity. As the responsible Chancellor of the German Reich and First Minister of my Prussian Government, you face the obligation to help fulfill the demands of this time with the proper means and at the proper time. On various occasions you have spoken of the spirit in which the forms of our state’s life are to be rebuilt in order to foster the free, enthusiastic cooperation of all members of our nation. The principles that you worked out on these occasions have, as you know, my approval. I am aware that in giving it, I am following the course of my grandfather, the founder of the Reich, who fulfilled his monarchical responsibilities in exemplary fashion, both when, as king of Prussia, he presided over the organization of the military, and when, as German Kaiser, he oversaw social reform. In so doing, he created the foundations on which the German people will survive this bloody time in unanimous and wrathful perseverance.

To preserve the armed forces as a true army of the people, to promote the social improvement of all classes of the people, has been my aim from the beginning of my reign. Determined as I am to serve the commonwealth, in hard-tested unity between the people and the monarchy, I have decided to begin the reconstruction of our domestic political, economic, and social life to the extent that the conditions of war permit.

Millions of our fellow countrymen are still on the battlefield. Behind the front, the settlement of differences of opinion, which are unavoidable in connection with a far-reaching alteration of the Constitution, must be postponed in the  highest patriotic interest, until our warriors have returned home and can themselves by word and deed aid in the progress of the new age. However, in order to allow the necessary and practical steps in this connection to take place immediately upon the successful end of the war, which I confidently hope is not far off, I wish that the preparations be concluded without delay. 

I am especially anxious to see the reorganization of the Prussian parliament and the liberation of all our domestic politics from this problem. On my orders, preparations for altering the suffrage for the House of Delegates were made at the beginning of the war. I now charge you to submit to me concrete proposals from the State Ministry, so this work, which is basic to the structure of domestic politics in Prussia, will quickly be carried out by legislation, once our warriors have returned. Given the colossal achievements of the whole people in this terrible war, I am convinced that there is no room any longer for the three-class franchise system in Prussia. Furthermore, the proposed bill is to provide for the direct and secret election of deputies.

No King of Prussia will fail to appreciate the merits and enduring significance of the House of Lords for the state. But the House of Lords will better be able to meet the colossal demands of the coming age if, to a broader and more equitable extent than before, it unifies in its midst leading men from the diverse sectors and vocations of the people, men who are distinguished by the respect of their fellow citizens. 

In renewing important dimensions of our firmly established and hard-tested state apparatus, I am acting in the traditions of my great forebears as I demonstrate my confidence in a loyal, brave, disciplined, and highly developed people.

I charge you to publish this decree at once.

Supreme Headquarters, April 7, 1917

Wilhelm I. R.

Source:  German History in Documents and Images; 1914-1918 Online

Saturday, April 19, 2025

Trevor Wilson on the Essence of Trench Warfare


Trevor Wilson (1928–2022)

By December 1914 the trench warfare system was fully established on the Western Front. Over time the men in the trenches—as can be seen in the examples on the right—dug deeper and improved their firing positions. Although the sites are quite comparable you can see from the hunched-over postures of the men in the 1914 trench that they are definitely in a hot zone. Compare that to the men and their officer in the improved trench, in what might be a posed photo. What did the apparent permanence of all this mean for the those men stuck in the trenches?


1914 French Trench

There is an important thing to understand about trench warfare and what it was like to be in the trenches. It was not the same people in the same trench all through the war. The army realized that even in quiet periods, being in the front line was a terribly wearing experience.

At any moment, if you put your head above the parapet, a sniper might get you; at any moment, a trench mortar or shell might land among you, killing and maiming. Consequently, people there are living in a state of great anxiety, which if continued for long, would wear them down; and they would wear down pretty rapidly to the point where they can't be used again.


Similar Trench, Probably 1915

To avoid this, the army was constantly recycling people, having them in the front line a week at a time, then moving them to reserve trenches, then moving them out of the lines altogether (giving them time to recuperate), and then bringing them back again. A soldier would usually occupy a front line trench for only a week at a time.

Historian Trevor Wilson, PBS Interview

Friday, April 18, 2025

The Anthem of the Anti-Preparedness Movement: I Didn't Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier


Preparedness Themed Lusitania Poster


After the Lusitania sinking of May 1915, Americans began debating the need for military and economic preparations for war. Strong opposition to “preparedness” came from isolationists, socialists, pacifists, many Protestant ministers, German Americans, and Irish Americans (who were hostile to Britain). Just earlier, one of the hit songs of 1915, “I Didn’t Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier,” by lyricist Alfred Bryan and composer Al Piantadosi, had captured widespread American skepticism about joining in the European war. 



With the Lusitania tragedy, interventionists and sympathizers for the Allied cause like former president Theodore Roosevelt increasingly beat the drums for preparedness. Anti-interventionists made sure the song stayed popular. Roosevelt’s retort to the popularity of the antiwar song was that it should be accompanied by the tune “I Didn’t Raise My Girl to Be a Mother.” He suggested that the place for women who opposed war was “in China—or by preference in a harem—and not in the United States.”

Listen to the Song Here


Lyrics

Ten million soldiers to the war have gone,

Who may never return again.

Ten million mothers' hearts must break,

For the ones who died in vain.

Head bowed down in sorrow in her lonely years,

I heard a mother murmur thro' her tears:


Chorus:

I didn’t raise my boy to be a soldier,

I brought him up to be my pride and joy,

Who dares to put a musket on his shoulder,

To shoot some other mother’s darling boy?

Let nations arbitrate their future troubles,

It’s time to lay the sword and gun away,

There’d be no war today,

If mothers all would say,

I didn’t raise my boy to be a soldier.


Source:  History Matters

Thursday, April 17, 2025

An Emerging Technology Just in Time for the Great War: Aerial Photography


Earliest Surviving Aerial Photograph
Boston, MA, USA
Taken from a Balloon, 13 October 1860


I've come across a fascinating 1995 article by an Italian historian/journalist (?) named Tiziana Carrozza that explores the pre-WWI development of aerial photography. I can't find anything about her career (I'm assuming she's a lady based on the female form of her given name), but she has done some impressive research on the subject. 


Aftermath of the 1918 Zeebrugge Raid


Below are some key excerpts from the 13-page article: "The Eye Over the Hill. Aerial Photography up to the First World War." The full article can be found HERE:

Fairly soon after the invention of photography, some extravagant people started experiments with a camera taking photographs hanging from a flying pigeon. The attempts with cameras attached to birds went on at least until 1907. . . Unfortunately, pigeons are not very keen on scientific experiments. A big problem with them was getting them to fly smoothly. Things went better with captive balloons and kites. At least, they didn't change their course voluntarily. 

In a letter of 25 August 1895, Graf von Zeppelin wrote to the War Ministry:

Through their quick and long flight [ ... ] the lighter-than-air craft become a means of strategic information as they have never been before. At a greater distance, the  assembly and the movement of an enemy army. can be discovered and observed, while carrier pigeons can inform the Headquarters.

 

An RFC/RAF Observer/Photographer with His Camera


Some ten years before, Aime Laussedat, an officer in the Engineer Corps of the  French Army pioneered the application of the invention of photography to simple observation from the air. He put into practice the suggestion made by the geodesist Dominique Francois Jean Arage in 1839 of using the daguerreotype for topographical maps. A real handicap to early aerial photographers was the poor quality of the sensitive material for the plates used in the cameras. An exposure of four hundred seconds was too long, and the photographs were rarely sharp enough to be of any use. By then, the exposure time of a plate had been reduced to eighty seconds by the use of bromine in the emulsion. 

Later on, in the 1850s, the exposure time was further reduced to one-tenth of that of the bromine daguerreotype. This improvement showed that the application of photography for aerial reconnaissance was only a matter of time. In 1856 Felix Nadar, a French civilian, photographed Paris from a captive balloon using the daguerreotype process. The first aerial photographs were just experiments in using the camera in every possible situation; once more appreciable results were obtained, they were considered as pictorial works to be shown in exhibitions for the amazement of a paying public. At the Paris exhibition in 1867 the public could, in fact, admire a map of Paris based on photographic surveys.


Union Army Balloon Corps "Intrepid"
Launched for the Battle of Seven Pines
 

The Balloon Corps of the United States was the first to apply aerial photographs to military operations. Since 1861 some civilian balloonists had been working unofficially with the U.S. Army. Their activity was considered of little significance by most of the officers. This attitude persisted even after 1910, when the Wright brothers invented the aeroplane. [sic: the Wright brothers first flew in 1903]

In Germany, people like Graf von Zeppelin had to push very hard to make the higher ranks realize the importance of observation and reconnaissance from the air. . . in 1898 Oskar Messter flew in a balloon called  Condor with the Flying Officer Bartsch von Siegfeld and took some successful photographs, which did not seem of great interest or use. Until July 1914 the crew roster for a lighter-than-air craft did not include a photographer, but only an observing officer. At the very least, the authorities' position regarding aerial photography was contradictory. While on the one hand, they seemed to be unaware of the tactical implications of the new technology, on the other they were alarmed by the danger of espionage connected with aerial photography. 


British Mine Craters at St. Eloi, Flanders
 

To War

The aerial camera was of great help for the Italians in the Italo-Turkish war of 1911–1912. Taking advantage of French experience in the matter, and using single-seater biplanes, the Italians were easily able to overwhelm the Turks, who used a classic war strategy. Another rehearsal for aerial photography, before the Great War, was the conflict between the Turks and the Bulgarians in 1912.

Though both conflicts showed the great importance of aerial reconnaissance, its widespread application dates from the early days of the First World War. The delay is difficult to explain, particularly if one takes into account a British patent for "A New or Improved Apparatus for Obtaining Bird's-eye Photographie Views", applied for as early as 1891, which says: "The present invention is applicable more especially to military operations, by taking photographic bird' seye views of fortifications or other positions occupied by an enemy, from a dist;mt position where they are not visible."  In fact, while most European countries used aeroplanes regularly before 1914 for surveying, no air unit had been trained or equipped to take pictures. 

Aerial photography was a genuinely new departure, far more so than the tank or the steel helmet. lt was the logical reaction to a completely changed way of making war, the off-spring of the first technological war in history. That is probably why it was not until the beginning of 1915 that the importance of photography was apparent, resulting from improvements in the type and general stability of aeroplanes. After die deadlock arising from the inauguration of trench warfare and new and more sophisticated camouflage, it was obvious that the old methods of obtaining intelligence information were out of date. The aeroplane replaced the cavalry and the ground scout of former days, and greater and greater demands were made on photography. 


Not a British Camera Maintenance Shop, But American
(Thanks Terry)
 

Unstable aeroplanes and inadequate photographic equipment made the first experiments very unsatisfactory for the requirements of reconnaissance. A very large proportion of the photographic work had to be done in unfavourable weather conditions, and this posed problems, in particular, atmospheric haze and thick clouds. While nothing could be done about cloudy weather except to hope for gaps in the clouds, the refraction of light rays caused by the minute particles composing haze could be overcome by using orange-coloured filters.

In fact, it was found that these filters greatly improved the quality of photographs taken in hazy weather, even if they stopped a large amount of light and reduced the "photographic day" to the period from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m.

It was only from the beginning of 1916 onward that aerial photography was conceived as a means of spying on the enemy's manoeuvres. Probably up to that date, photograph interpretation had not been sufficiently developed for its possibilities to be fully realized. 


Devastated Village of Vaux, Marne Sector
 

Carrozza's article continues with technological discussions of wartime  developments regarding flying operations, cameras, film and plates, stereoscopic photography and other matters. It concludes with this paragraph on the combatants' response to the new technology.

The form that the battlefield took in the Great War, the daily thickening network of trenches, the rapid discovery of the enemy gun emplacements required a precision in reconnaissance that only photography could give. The response to aerial photography was to develop highly sophisticated and effective forms of camouflage. Every attention was paid to keeping weapon positions secret, even to the extent of having troops wear biscuit tin lids on the soles of their shoes, which left prints that were less striking than foot-prints and, even if seen, did not show the direction in which they were marching. This in its turn forced the aerial photographers to elaborate methods of constructing stereoscopic views of the ground in order to enable the interpreters of the photographs to detect even the most carefully disguised units. 

Also: See our earlier article "Sources of Frontline Intelligence: Aerial Observation from Airplanes" by Terrence J. Finnegan"  HERE

Other Sources:  Over the Top, February 2009; Above and Beyond, 13 October 2014

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Remembering the Eddystone Munitions Disaster


SPRINGFIELD (MA) REPUBLICAN, 11 April 1917

By Jerry Jonas

Originally published on the 100th anniversay of the disaster in Phillyburbs. Some additional details and these photos have been added by the editor. MH

Last Wednesday [10 April 2025] marked the [108]th anniversary of one of the greatest wartime disasters in American history, and it occurred during World War I here in the Delaware Valley, just a couple of miles south of today’s Philadelphia. 

For weeks, the plant management had been running ads in the Philadelphia newspapers recruiting young girls to fill hundreds of jobs. Britain contracted with the Remington Company to produce rifles, and Remington subcontracted part of the work to Baldwin. When their need for munitions outstripped their industrial capacity, Britain and France (and later Russia) also contracted with Baldwin to produce artillery shells. The munitions manufactured at Eddystone were shrapnel shells, an anti-personnel device. One Eddystone plant built the entire shell—from building the shell to shaping the brass cartridge—and filling the cartridge with black powder. Most of this work was being done by women and girls.

About 400 women and girls worked in the plant’s F building. That building housed about 40,000 loaded shells and was divided into three sections: the pellet room, the loading room, and the inspection room. In the pellet room, about 100 girls made the black-powder fuses that would eventually be used to detonate the shells. In the loading room, dozens of additional girls inserted the fuses into the shells, which were then filled with loose black gunpowder. The finished shells were then taken to the inspection room, where they were given a final quality checkup.



Somewhere between 9:55 a.m. and 10:10 a.m. on 10 April, the F building was rocked by a violent explosion. As described in the next day’s New York Times, 18 tons of black gunpowder had ignited, setting off thousands of shrapnel shells and causing "a series of detonations that shook a half dozen boroughs within a radius of ten miles of the plant."

This was followed by a series of smaller, intermittent explosions and then a large one in a building filled with black powder. The shrapnel blasts injured not only workers but also many first responders, including a fireman who lost a leg to a bullet. The explosions killed at least 133 employees and severely injured, maimed and badly burned an additional 500. The majority of those killed were the women and young girls who worked in the loading room. “We had but a minute to reach the door,” a survivor told the Chester Times (now the Delaware County Daily Times) newspaper, “but many of us never got that far. Some were killed and others were injured by flying bullets.”

After an appeal for help was flashed, local residents rushed to the plant in cars and trucks to help transport the wounded to hospitals. Students from the Pennsylvania College arrived and proved helpful with crowd control. Numerous fire companies from Chester and Philadelphia raced to the scene. 


Post-Explosion Crowd


All of the regional hospitals—Crozer, Chester, Taylor, and Media—were packed as doctors and nurses rushed to aid as many as they could. By 11 a.m., the hospitals were so full that the Chester Armory was converted into a temporary hospital, with Boy Scouts, National Guardsmen, and members of the Red Cross arranging cots in the drill hall. The Times described Chester Hospital as “corridors and side rooms lined with swathed forms, nothing visible of the person except for the tips of their noses. Intermittent screams of the suffering could be heard from the halls.”

Faces and bodies of the victims were blackened, as the powder had been blown into their flesh. Several bodies were discovered floating in the nearby Delaware River, where they either jumped to escape the fire and drowned or were blown into the river by the explosions. Many victims were identified only by their clothing, and at least 55 were never identified. Body parts were gathered and interred in a mass grave in the Chester Rural Cemetery.


Preparing the Victims for Burial


Some investigators suspected German saboteurs were behind the tragedy, since the plant had been supplying arms and ammunition to Germany’s enemy, Great Britain, and especially since the U.S. had only days earlier entered the war against Germany. Many (including plant employees) assumed that lack of appropriate safety standards at the plant was the actual cause of the disaster, but no real conclusions were ever reached. 

While it today seems unbelievable, less than two weeks after the tragedy, the Eddystone munitions plant was reopened, and over 900 girls had reportedly applied to work there. Girls with German backgrounds were not hired. Today, the victims of the 1917 explosion are considered by many historians to be among the very first American casualties of World War I.

Sources:  Phillyburbs.com; ABC Channel 27; WWI Centennial Commission; Wikipedia; Delco.Today; Timothy Hughes: Rare and Early Newspapers 


Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Carl Bobrow's Aerial Ascendancy Series


Sample Illustrations from the Series


By Carl J. Bobrow

Aeronaut Books, 2025

Reviewed by Steve Suddaby


As a lover of WWI aviation, I was initially concerned that I wouldn’t find prewar aviation histories very interesting. I had no reason to worry! Carl Bobrow, Alfred Verville Fellow and retired Smithsonian Institution National Air & Space Museum staffer, presents fascinating descriptions of the earliest years of aviation in the Russian, Austro-Hungarian, and German Empires. Each volume helps the reader understand the genesis of these empires’ successes and failures in aviation during the war itself. The Russian and Austro-Hungarian histories are particularly enlightening because those two empires have always been underrepresented in English-language research on the Great War.


Aerial Ascendancy: Volume I
Russia’s Path to the Skies


Carl Bobrow’s writing style greatly enhances the reader’s understanding of these technical and complex topics. He writes short chapters. His photo captions are long and detailed. The end notes are given chapter-by-chapter, where they’re easy to find and often provide insightful background in addition to just citing sources. His electronic enhancement of the photos and their large size make them unusually clear and sharp, as if they were black-and-white photos taken in 2012 rather than 1912.  


Aerial Ascendancy: Volume II
The Rise of Flight in Austria-Hungary


Bobrow’s approach to “military” history is more wide-ranging than that of most authors. He discusses civilian pilots (including women), mechanics, aviation manufacturing companies, international air meets, promotion of aviation by aristocrats and industrialists, government policies that affected aviation companies, academic research into flight, aerial photography, naval aviation, the sparring between advocates of airplanes and airships, as well as the prescience and shortsightedness of particular generals and admirals. All of this gives an exceptionally well rounded appraisal of aviation in these three empires and clarifies why their subsequent military aviation efforts succeeded or struggled. These three volumes will be an important resource for understanding World War I aviation for years to come.


Aerial Ascendancy: Volume III
Genesis of German Aviation


All volumes available from Amazon HERE


Full Disclosure: The WWI aviation community is small and tightly knit. Carl Bobrow has been a friend and colleague of this reviewer for years.

Steve Suddaby