Woodrow Wilson's Right Hand: The Life of Colonel Edward M. House

by Godfrey Hodgson

Yale University Press, 2006

Jolie Velazquez, Reviewer

Edward House

This political biography is a great read for those interested in American international diplomacy during the era surrounding World War I. Mr. Hodgson falls into the camp of biographers who love their subject,, and while the reader would like to know much more about the personal relationship between the academic President Wilson and the wily backstage manager of his foreign policy, we do find out why Edward House was so admired by many of the leading figures in both American and European power circles.

House retired from business in middle age to take part in shaping social and political policies. He cut his teeth on rowdy Texas politics during the time of prairie populism and was instrumental in electing governors and senators, though he always refused to accept an appointment or run for office himself. When he decided to take on national issues, he found Woodrow Wilson to be the candidate he most wanted to work with since they already shared many of the same ideals. His initial help in getting Wilson elected led to a greater role on Wilson's team. How their political relationship rapidly developed into a warm friendship is still a mystery in this book and one of the reader's few disappointed expectations.

House was Wilson's primary civilian advisor on all politically touchy subjects, such as making cabinet appointments, and for all purposes he ran foreign affairs, the president's greatest weak spot. Even Secretary of State Robert Lansing deferred to House's judgment. Prior to the outbreak of the war, House engaged in a clandestine "shuttle diplomacy" mission to prevent hostilities. (The Kaiser later mentioned its near success.) Once the war began, House and Wilson turned their energies to creating their plan for peace, the Fourteen Points and the League of Nations. Lines are blurred as to who contributed more to this effort, but it was certainly a collaborative endeavor.

Hodgson saves his best narrative for the 1919 Peace Conference in Paris and the eventual breakup of the House/Wilson relationship. The details add a lot to one's knowledge of what went on behind the scenes at the negotiations and make a wonderful addendum to Margaret Macmillan's book on the conference. With so much material at hand to analyze, the author goes into every theory about why the friendship cooled. (Hint: Edith Wilson looms large.) It is clear, however, that a clash in styles was inevitable: House's more pragmatic and tactful handing of issues at the conference grated against Wilson's haughty idealism to the point where accusations and apologies were exchanged for the first time.

The book is meticulously researched, and the style is easy on the brain while still explicating profound issues. It gives credit to a unique individual whose personal charm, modesty, and intelligence were needed at the point this country was taking a lead role on the international stage. House's involvement with every important diplomatic issue of his day was disparaged by "Edith's camp" of memoirists and historians for many years, so we are grateful to Hodgson for delivering a different and thoughtful perspective on the Wilsonian era.


Originally Presented in the Fall 2009 Issue of Relevance: Quarterly Journal of the Great War Society

October 1917: La Follette Speaks Out for Dissent and Free Speech

In this excerpt from Dissent: The History of an American Idea, Ralph Young looks at how the limits of dissent as one of our nation’s defining characteristics were tested during World War I.

Senator LaFollette

In October 1917, Senator Robert La Follette delivered a blistering address in defense of free speech and dissent. “Since the declaration of war, the triumphant war press has pursued those Senators and Representatives who voted against war with malicious falsehood and recklessly libelous attacks, going to the extreme limit of charging them with treason against their country.” There have been many attacks, he went on, against him personally and demands that he be expelled from the Senate. But such attacks were not just aimed at politicians but were also being directed at ordinary citizens in an attempt to coerce them into silence and acquiescence in an unjust war. “The mandate seems to have gone forth to the sovereign people of this country that they must be silent while those things are being done by their Government which most vitally concerns their well-being, their happiness, and their lives.” This was deplorable. American citizens must not be “terrorized” in this way. 

He produced several affidavits of Americans being subjected to unlawful arrest merely for expressing opposition to the war. “Honest and law-abiding citizens of this country are being terrorized,” he admonished, even though they have committed no crime. Throughout the nation “private residences are being invaded, loyal citizens of undoubted integrity and probity arrested, cross-examined, and the most sacred constitutional rights guaranteed to every American citizen are being violated.” 

Of course, he conceded that citizens recognize that in time of war security measures are needed that might chip away at some civil liberties, but, he emphasized, “the right to control their own Government according to constitutional forms is not one of the rights that the citizens of this country are called upon to surrender in time of war” (La Follette’s emphasis). When the country is at war, he went on, it is even more necessary to preserve this right than it is in time of peace. In wartime the American citizen

“must be most watchful of the encroachment of the military upon the civil power. He must beware of those precedents in support of arbitrary action by administration officials which, excused on the pleas of necessity in war time, become the fixed rule when the necessity has passed and normal conditions have been restored.

More than all, the citizen and his representative in Congress in time of war must maintain his right of free speech. More than in times of peace it is necessary that the channels for free public discussion of governmental policies shall be open and unclogged.”

The most important right the American people enjoy is the right “to discuss in an orderly way, frankly and publicly and without fear, from the platform and through the press, every important phase of this war; its causes, and manner in which it should be conducted, and the terms upon which peace should be made.” And any attempt to stifle free speech, public discussion of the war, or even severe criticism of the administration’s policies, is “a blow at the most vital part of our Government.”

Early Antiwar Demonstration in New York (Alamy)

Many Americans applauded La Follette’s stance. Even former president Theodore Roosevelt was furious about Wilson’s attempts to suppress dissent. When Wilson’s supporters said it was wrong to criticize the president, especially in time of war, Roosevelt lashed out angrily. “To announce that there must be no criticism of the president,” he said, “or that we are to stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or anyone else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about anyone else.” 

But many of those who dared to “tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant” found themselves in trouble with the law. In June 1918 Socialist Party leader Eugene V. Debs was arrested under the provisions of the Sedition Act for a scathing antiwar speech he gave in Canton, Ohio. “Wars throughout history,” Debs reflected, “have been waged for conquest and plunder.” When Feudal lords in the Middle Ages sought to increase their domains “they declared war upon one another. But they themselves did not go to war any more than the modern feudal lords, the barons of Wall Street go to war.” It was the serfs, the peasants who fought and died in the battles back then. “The poor, ignorant serfs had been taught . . . to believe that when their masters declared war upon one another, it was their patriotic duty to fall upon one another and to cut one another’s throats for the profit and glory of the lords and barons who held them in contempt.” This has not changed. Now, just as then, it is the master class that profits from war, the working class that dies in wars. “They have always taught and trained you to believe it to be your patriotic duty to go to war and to have yourselves slaughtered at their command. But in all the history of the world you, the people, have never had a voice in declaring war, and strange as it certainly appears, no war by any nation in any age has ever been declared by the people.” 

The Great War, Debs insisted, is an imperialist war for the benefit of American businessmen and financiers—the Wall Street gentry—who he likened to the Junkers, the autocratic Prussian ruling class that was the force behind German aggression. These “Wall Street Junkers” were lying about the war’s goals when they say it is the war to make the world safe for American democracy. The war is really about profits, nothing else. They wrap themselves up in patriotism and intimidate the people by questioning the patriotism of anyone who does not wholeheartedly support the war. “These are the gentry who are today wrapped up in the American flag,” Debs scoffed,

“who shout their claim from the housetops that they are the only patriots, and who have their magnifying glasses in hand, scanning the country for evidence of disloyalty, eager to apply the brand of treason to the men who dare to even whisper their opposition to Junker rule in the United Sates. No wonder Sam Johnson declared that “patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel.” He must have had this Wall Street gentry in mind, or at least their prototypes, for in every age it has been the tyrant, the oppressor and the exploiter who has wrapped himself in the cloak of patriotism, or religion, or both to deceive and overawe the people.”

These deceivers are the real traitors, Debs insisted, not those who criticize the war, not those who stand up for liberty and justice. Those are the real patriots.

Shortly after Debs delivered this speech, he was arrested, tried, and sentenced to ten years in prison. Along with his prison term he was stripped of his American citizenship. “I have been accused of obstructing the war,” Debs said when he was permitted to speak to the jury before sentencing. “I admit it. Gentlemen, I abhor war. I would oppose war if I stood alone.”  But then he also confessed that he believed in the Constitution. “Isn’t it strange that we Socialists stand almost alone today in upholding and defending the Constitution of the United States? The revolutionary fathers who had been oppressed under king rule understood that free speech and the right of free assemblage by the people were fundamental principles in democratic government. . . . I believe in the right of free speech, in war as well as peace.”

Source:  The Constitutional Daily

Inside the Mark Series Tanks Video

Remembering a Veteran: Pvt. Troy E. Leach, Supply Company, 9th Infantry, 2nd Division, AEF

Contributed by Robin Clayton of Walnut, Mississippi

Young Troy Leach on the Right

My grandfather, Troy Elbert Leach, born Christmas 1895 in Blue Springs, MS, was an illiterate coon dog hunting farm boy who had never gone anywhere outside Union County, MS, until the Great War reached America.

Brand New Soldier Troy Leach on the Left

He enlisted in the U.S. Amy at New Albany, MS, and left on a troop train from the Frisco Crossing at the Harahan Bridge at Memphis, arriving at Camp Pike, AK, on 3 October 1917. He began rifle training but caught the influenza and almost died. Afterward, Troy Leach became a cook.

Training as a Cook

After Camp Pike’s 87th Division was skeletonized and absorbed into services of supply, he left for Camp Dix, New Jersey, by train. Troy crossed the Atlantic on an English cattle boat, fetching food for the seasick Doughboys as he ran up and down the ship ladders unfazed. Troy wound up in the supply company for the 2nd Division's 9th Infantry, arriving as a replacement, just as the Marines were finishing up Belleau Wood and just in time for the division's next attack, on Vaux.

2nd Division Insignia

Troy was a wagon driver and cook. His daughter used to say he was good with meat, especially hamburgers, and he knew how to make corned beef from scratch. He went through Soissons, St. Mihiel, and was driving a water wagon near Blanc Mont in the Champagne in October.

On 8 October, this Mississippi country boy was told to deliver water to his outfit. This was the day the 2nd Division was being relieved by the 36th Division. There was much confusion, the lines overlapping. He could not find them, so gave his load of water to another outfit. After failing to deliver his load of water to the outfit he was ordered to, he was ordered to try again,  "Or don’t come back." Well, he didn’t come back.

Troy Delivered Water in a Studebaker-Built Tank Like This

On the way, he saw a lieutenant on a motorcycle needing help, and he and the "mule tank"  stopped. A plane flew over just then and dropped a bomb on an ammo dump, exploding. Troy lay on the field wounded in the lung and shoulder blade till 9 October.

It Was Farther Down This Road That Troy Was Wounded

By then St Etienne was taken and Troy was removed from the 2nd Division and evacuated to the hospital. I was told Pershing himself pinned a medal on Troy. He was placed on a hospital ship and arrived in the USA on 23 December 1918.

Troy Recuperating in Hospital

Two days later, Troy Leach turned 23. He recuperated and was discharged from the Army at Camp Shelby, MS, in 1919. He later went to Mississippi State Barber College in Starkville and [also] learned to read.

Troy and Estella After the War

He married Estella Pannell and had five children. Troy, Jr., the oldest, would serve under Patton in North Africa. He was a motorcycle courier from Oran to Marrakesh.

Estella and Troy with Daughters Sarah and Scotti [Mother of Contributor] and Son Joe

Troy Jr. During World War II

The First World War never left Troy, Sr., alone, though, He was hospitalized for shell shock,  depression, and his old wounds at Hines Illinois Military Hospital about the time he joined the New Albany Chapter of the American Legion, in 1932. Troy finally got a little pension started to feed his family, as he was evaluated as disabled from the war.

Troy During His Second Hospitalization in the 1930s

Like Alvin York, Troy was a church music leader, serving the Blue Springs Baptist Church until he finally succumbed to his injuries on 22  June 1950.

Despite the Adversity He Faced, Troy Remained a
Proud Veteran and American Legion Member; Here He Is Wearing His WWI Campaign Medal and Purple Heart

From Dead Serious to Silly: Five Censored Photos from the War

This selection of images from a 1926 U.S. Army Signal Corps report, "The Military Censorship of Photographs" shows the wide range of discretion that censors can exercise during wartime.

Click on Images to Enlarge

American Dead Awaiting Reburial at Cierges, France

A Hidden Anti-Submarine Gun Newly Installed on a Navy Ship

The Censor Thought This Photo of Soldiers Training on Wooden Machine Guns Could Be Used by German Propagandists.  The Doughboys, However, Seem to Be Having a Good Time.

President and Mrs. Wilson Intending to Show Their Support for the War Effort at a Camouflage Demonstration. 
The Censor's Problem Is with the  Rock. It's Papier-mâché and Part of the Cover of  a
Hidden Listening Post.

"Possibly Subject to Misinterpretation." 
This Is Not a Still from South Pacific, but a Morale Visit by
a Group of Broadway Chorus Girls to
Pelham Bay Naval Station.

77th New York Metropolitan Division to Be Honored in France

Men of the 77th Division About to Attack the Argonne Forest

The episode of the Lost Battalion during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive is the most remembered and commemorated event of America's effort in the Great War. That patched-together unit trapped on that hillside for five desperate days came from men from the 77th Division, composed of men from New York City and the nearby communities. The Lost Battalion has its own monument overlooking the site and has been the subject of a well-done feature film. All well justified, of course. However, this focus has inadvertently led to a century-long neglect of all the other accomplishments of the full 77th division, including those of the men who were trapped temporarily with the Lost Battalion, who —once sprung loose—carried on the fight right up to the Armistice.

Shoulder Patch, 77th Division

Consider: No other division captured as much enemy territory during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive as the 77th Division. They advanced 37 miles in the 47 days of the operation, being in the line 32 days total. Including its earlier service in the Aisne-Marne sector, the Metropolitan Division suffered 10,194 casualties in action including 1,486 dead in the war. Yet, unlike many of the other divisions that served in France, the 77th has never had a monument to its accomplishments placed on the battlefields it liberated in 1918.

Happily, however, that is about to change. A group of boosters are coordinating with numerous government officials, agencies, and foundations, in both the U.S. and France, to dedicate a private memorial to the U.S. 77th Division. The monument will be placed at the village of Villers devant Mouzon, on the Meuse river, which became the point of the division's farthest advance on 11 November 1918.  Poetically, the Hillburn Granite Quarry of New York state has presented  an exceptional design that is sure to highlight a true American story—from a small New York quarry to the banks of the River Meuse.

Villers devant Mouzon (Insert: Mock-up of Memorial)

The dedication to the 77th Division Memorial is planned for Villers devant Mouzon on 28 June 2021, the anniversary of the signing of the Versailles Treaty. Planning for the event is being closely coordinated with the 77th Sustainment Brigade, Ft. Dix (which traces its lineage to the 77th Division), the 77th Infantry Division Reserve Officer Association, and the 50th Attack Squadron, Shaw AFB, which in October 1918 provided support for the Lost Battalion. All will be represented and included in the dedication. The commemoration also will include a flyover dedication by Dorian Walker in his recently restored DH-4 Liberty, the only one the world.

The point of contact for the event is Col. Charles E. Metrolis, USAF, whose great-uncle Edwin Welch, was killed in a post-Armistice action, on a bridge over the Meuse river near Villers devant Mouzon.  Contact him HERE if you have any questions about the dedication.

New York's Own Returns Home (ARTICLE)

Pyotr Nesterov: Aviation Innovator & First Air-to-Air Combat Victor

Display at Russian Air Force Museum

In our article on 1 May 2020, "The Birth of the Air War,"  contributor Jon Guttman made reference to an 8 September 1914 air attack mounted by aviation pioneer Pyotr Nesterov (1987—1914).  Another of our contributors, Steve Miller, has informed us that the story behind the encounter is fascinating and that his brief career as as an aviation innovator is worthy of further discussion.  

Replica of Nesterov's Nieuport IV  Monoplane

Nesterov graduated as a military pilot in 1912 and was assigned to a detachment at Kiev.  He soon gained fame as the first pilot to fly a loop in his Nieuport IV monoplane. He was disciplined for his dangerous maneuver but gained international fame for it, nevertheless. Throughout his brief flying career Nesterov was a tireless student of the new science. He worked out new methods flying higher, safer, and at night. He suggested using aircraft for bombing and for ramming enemy airplanes.

Display at Russian Air Force Museum

It was this last combat tactic that would bring an end to Nesterov's career and life. Flying his Nieuport IV on  8 September 1914 would use a ramming technique to become history's first pilot to down an enemy aircraft, the Austro-Hungarian Albatros B.II of Franz Malina and Friedrich Freiherr Rosenthal. All three aviators died from the collision. It is believed that he may have been trying to disable the enemy airplane by using his wheels to rip off a wing, but a catastrophic collision resulted instead. Nesterov posthumously received the Order of St. George and is today honored at the Russian Air Force Museum near Moscow.

Sources:  Russiapedia.com, Steve Miller Archives

From The Unutterable Beauty: "Dead and Buried" by G.A. Studdert Kennedy

 Commentary by
David F. Beer

Rev. Studdert Kennedy

The Reverend Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy came to the Western Front from a small English parish and served as an army chaplain. He soon became known as "Woodbine Willy" to troops near the front lines due to his practice of giving out cigarettes to needy soldiers. He was awarded the Military Cross for bravery, survived the war, and returned to parish work. He died an early death in 1929 from a combination of asthma and exhaustion. He wrote numerous poems, published and still available in The Unutterable Beauty. He was also the author of several notable books on theology in which he questioned the concept of God being both omnipotent and all-loving; his experience in the war had proved otherwise. The God he served never intervenes in the affairs of humans yet loves us and suffers along with us through the Christ. The war, the suffering deity, and the hypocrisy perpetuated in "the many-fountained Gardens of Versailles" is the subject of this poem.

Dead and Buried

I have borne my cross through Flanders,
Through the broken heart of France,
I have borne it through the deserts of the East;
I have wandered, faint and longing,
Through the human hosts that, thronging,
Swarmed to glut their grinning idols with a feast.

I was crucified in Cambrai,
And again outside Bapaume;
I was scourged for miles along the Albert Road,
I was driven, pierced and bleeding,
With a million maggots feeding
On the body that I carried as my load.

I have craved a cup of water,
Just a drop to quench my thirst,
As the routed armies ran to keep the pace;
But no soldier made reply
As the maddened hosts swept by,
And a sweating straggler kicked me in the face.

There's no ecstasy of torture
That the devils e'er devised,
That my soul has not endured unto the last;
As I bore my cross of sorrow,
For the glory of tomorrow,
Through the wilderness of battles that is past.

Yet my heart was still unbroken,
And my hope was still unquenched,
Till I bore my cross to Paris through the crowd.
Soldiers pierced me on the Aisne,
But 'twas by the river Seine
That the statesmen brake my legs and made my shroud.

There they wrapped my mangled body
In fine linen of fair words,
With the perfume of a sweetly scented lie,
And they laid it in the tomb
Of the golden-mirrored room,
'mid the many-fountained Gardens of Versailles.

With a thousand scraps of paper
They made fast the open door,
And the wise men of the council saw it sealed.
With the seal of subtle lying,
They made certain of my dying,
Lest the torment of the peoples should be healed.

Then they set a guard of soldiers
Night and day beside the Tomb,
Where the body of the Prince of Peace is laid,
And the captains of the nations
Keep the sentries to their stations,
Lest the statesman's trust from Satan be betrayed.

For it isn't steel and iron
That men use to kill their God,
But the poison of a smooth and slimy tongue.
Steel and iron tear the body,
But it's oily sham and shoddy
That have trampled down God's spirit in the dung.

In nine stanzas, with a rhythm that somehow reminds me of a marching cadence, the poet employs the metaphor of Christ on his earthly journey—but now in France rather than Palestine. Jesus suffered dreadfully but was able to survive the cruelty, neglect, and horror of the fighting. It was the politicians who finally crucified him: "Soldiers pierced me on the Aisne,/But 'twas by the river Seine/That the statesmen brake my legs and made my shroud."

This is what happened at Versailles, where decisions and forced agreements made World War Two all but inevitable. The treaty was hammered out by fair words, sweetly scented lies, thousands of scraps of (meaningless?) paper, subtle lies, smooth and slimy tongues, and pacts with the devil.

The final stanza sums it all up. Perhaps it has ever been thus.

David F. Beer

Dardanelles Diary: The View from Offshore

From the Illustrated London News, 5 June 1915:

AFTER three days in the fine natural harbour of this island situated in the Aegean Sea, and where the Allies have made for themselves a naval base to attack the Dardanelles, we left suddenly at noon on Wednesday, 28 April, 1915, for the scene of action.

Naval Forces off Gallipoli

Now to tell you of one of the greatest days in my life — the day that I first came under the fire and was privileged to see one of the finest bombardments yet fought in history. About three o'clock, or three hours after leaving Lemnos, we sighted many vessels and land ahead. Then we saw flashes, and knew where we were. The cannonade became distinct, and gradually we came up with hundreds of craft of every description surrounding the entrance to the Straits and around the Peninsula of Gallipoli.

Transports supplying soldiers, stores, guns, and ammunition were there galore, and the men-o'-war, small and large, were darting to and fro. Some were lying broadside on, and great flashes of flame came from their guns. We were soon up on the boat-deck to take in the situation and gather information. On Sunday we had landed some Australian, French, and English troops at Helles Bay.

Our troops were landed with great opposition. Barbed-wire entanglements on land and under the sea caused great trouble. The men got caught in this wire and were slaughtered in hundreds. Eventually, barges made the shore, and the British Iroops landed at Helles Bay. The Australian Contingent were landed at the bay shown on the map, and the opposition was even greater here. A transport was eventually run aground, and the troops got on shore by using this as a jetty.

When we steamed up, we saw the landscape as shown on the sketches enclosed, and if these are joined, you will get the whole. I am told this gives a very accurate idea, so that you can perhaps glean some interest from my efforts. As we got into position, the guns of men-o'-war in the mouth of the Strait were doing damage, and already the village was burning. Then another of our cruisers started on our right, and finally the Queen Elizabeth and a cruiser took a position on our left and right, respectively, and let go for all they were worth. Need I say what a stirring sight all this was! We could see the land laid out like a panorama before us, and could see the flash of the enemy guns as they sought the batteries of our landing-party. Many of their shells dropped near the coast. So near was the Dublin to us that we could view the landing of the great guns and the tars skipping around as happy as sand-boys. Then came the great flash and yet another, and the following volumes of smoke. A while, and then the crash; broadsides were fired —  salvos delivered. Jove! it was terrible! Every nerve quivered with excitement as we watched the bursting of the shells and the shrapnel. Bang! and up would go a great column of smoke from the village. As night fell, we could see the lurid flash of the bursting shells and the great flames of the burning village. This was war indeed!

Then the cruiser let go every gun she had upon her, and some trenches to the right of the village must have been sky-high. So night fell, and the fires and lights of our landing- party, and the great glow of the flaming village on our port, with the many lights of the vessels standing "off" on our starboard, made a scene I shall never forget. For a quarter of an hour our guns spoke at eleven o'clock. At 5 a.m. they gave the enemy a gentle reminder for thirty minutes. This was Thursday, and all day we heard the booming of guns and occasionally saw the bursting of enemy shrapnel. Early in the afternoon, a great column of smoke arose from behind a ridge of hills, and continued to rise all day. At night there was a great glow there, and a small town must have been well alight. In the evening, bombardment took place all round, and it transpired that our troops had a terrible time — the Turks advancing with heavy guns and forming a most strong opposition; so much that our troops were forced to retire.

British Cruiser and Transport Off of Gallipoli Peninsula

Two men came off the shore to our vessel and stated the carnage to be awful. If you only realised in England how we are hanging on by our eyebrows here, some of the spruce young city men would come and lend a hand. Think of it, and try and realise what a task we have when it is known that the Turks are reinforcing in thousands, led by Germans who have brought some very heavy guns with them.

Thursday afternoon, a battleship on the extreme left, where the Australians had landed, did some good work, and at night there was exchange of artillery fire. It was very cold this night. Up at 5 a.m. next morning, I heard heavy firing from the enemy, and just about 8 a.m. the shrapnel was bursting over our trenches. The enemy's fire became general, and several shells fell along the cliff; three dropped in the sea around a transport which lay about 300 yards in front of us. She immediately moved to the rear with her load of prisoners. We could see the Turks with their red flag and khaki uniform. Their hands were shackled! Altogether, very exciting!

Then our dogs of war barked, and the Turkish-German guns were silenced. The village, to which the enemy had advanced, was given attention, and altogether the foe must have had a very warm time. Land fighting took place all day, but some good work was done from our vessels in the Narrows. From here a large forest and brushwood land was set on fire, and once more we had a bonfire. Dense columns of smoke arose, and as evening fell, the sky was painted red with the reflection of the flames. On this day we hear that the Australians put in some fine work, and especially at night under cover of the forest fire, when they did much damage to the enemy. During the morning, two of our aeroplanes carried out a reconnaissance, and a man-o'-war to our right was plumping shells right over the coveted hill. Oh, if we can only gain that prominence! Then, indeed, we should have an advantage, but one that would have been hardly earned. During the afternoon we were visited by a German 'plane. It had black crosses under the wings, and tried to drop a bomb on our observation-balloon. It was an unsuccessful attempt, however, and our anti-aircraft guns with their pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, sent her flying home.

After tea, we were treated to one of the finest sights of the many that have recently been offered to us. As twilight fell, the enemy made a terrific attack on our trenches. In the darkness, the bursting shrapnel, here and there and everywhere, was extraordinary. Away on the hill and ridge at the back we could see the flash of the enemy's guns. Then almost simultaneously would come the bang and the burst of the shell. Our artillery replied, and we could see the shell bursting on the Turkish positions. Then we had an exciting time, for the Germans sent over half-a-dozen star shells which lit up the land. These things are just like rockets, only that they fly lower —  more like a rifle-bullet. Behind the hill was the lurid glare of the fire, rifles and machine-guns cracked, the moon in all its fullness gradually rose in a beautifully clear sky, and we — well, we stood in breathless excitement as the players in this extraordinary drama carried on their part in the darkness of the land which lay before us. It gave me an unpleasant feeling of helplessness  —  a wholesome horror of war — but it was a wonderful sight. All night the guns boomed, and the next day (Saturday) too. In the morning we moved to the island of Tenedos, but speedily returned to the scene of the conflict. Once more we were "in the stalls," but expect to have to take our part at any moment.

V Beach, Cape Helles Viewed from River Clyde

We dropped some Engineers two days ago, and since then we hear that, upon landing, they were awaiting orders when a shell dropped right in their midst, and few of them were left. A cheerful prospect; but may God rest their souls — our late companions! More Engineers and some of the A.S.C. have left the ship, and the guns have been going all day long. Another fire occurred on Saturday afternoon, and the aeroplanes and observation-balloon were busy. Also guns boomed all day, but we seem to be getting used to these things.

Saturday evening we watched the battle, which quieted down. The sun sank behind the island of Imbros in all his glory, and as this island is very rocky and hilly it was a fine sight. The sea, too, was beautiful; and, as darkness fell, the many transports, with their flash-lamps, ships' lights, and signals, looked like a small town. Overhead, the stars shone out in the deep-blue sky in myriads. A lovely evening! Just after we retired (and I am now sleeping in the ladies' cabin on the top deck —  very comfortable, and plenty of sea air) the guns began to speak. It got so hot that our cabin was lit up by the flashes from our guns. We got up, put on our overcoats, and saw the fiercest of battles. To describe it in full would be useless to try. In the pitch dark the blue sky made a silhouette of the all-important hill. The enemy shrapnel burst continually all along the coast, and particularly over the Field Artillery and the two coves where our men are being landed. Great flashes came from our batteries, which did a lot of work, and the rifle-fire was quite audible and very rapid.

Just off the point of the Peninsula our man-o'-war let go every half-minute, and we could see her shells bursting on the hillside. Star shells floated over our encampments, and what with the continual lighting-up of the land by the bursting projectiles, the boom of the guns, the cracking of the rifles, and the rays of the searchlight with the signals flashing to and fro, an awful but memorable scene was presented to us.

This battle raged throughout Saturday night, May I, but abated somewhat during Sunday, although the naval guns kept up a constant bombardment, especially one man- o'-war well up the Straits. We attended service in the morning. One of the hymns struck me as being somewhat appropriate:

Through the night of doubt and sorrow

Onward goes the pilgrim band, Singing songs of expectation,

Marching to the promised land.

In the afternoon, after a dinner, I confess I enjoyed a nap. By the way, you will like to know our bill-of-fare. There is plenty of water for drinking purposes, but for washing body and clothes the sea provides.

Breakfast consists of tea, porridge, jam, bread, and butter. Always the same, sometimes minus the porridge, which has reached quite a good standard. Dinner gives us stewed meat or bully beef, doubtful potatoes, and occasionally haricot beans — no fresh vegetables. Sometimes no pudding; but if any, rice and currants (unwashed) or a plum duff. Tea consists of bread, butter, jam, and the favourite beverage (I mean tea). On rare occasions we get a cheese ration, and very welcome it is. The way we deal with rations is thus: Two orderlies, our lorry-drivers — clear the cabin up (we are fortunate to have the ladies' room, 30 feet by 15 feet on the top deck —  hence, plenty of air) and draw the stores. Regular times are detailed for drawing boiling water, meat, and bread. These are called "Sittings." At a certain time groceries (sugar, tins of condensed milk, and butter) are issued. At the start of the voyage "dicksees" (i.e., metal cans), tin mugs and plates, knives, forks, and spoons were issued. The three corporals get the men seated and serve each man with the food. No man is allowed to take anything, and thus all get equal rations.

Now for Sunday evening's battle! An everyday occurrence, which we now treat just as we do the playing of a band or going to the theatre or pictures at home. Our men-o'-war right up the Straits had been pounding away at the Peninsula. These naval guns form our heavy artillery for the infantry's advance. Suddenly shrapnel began to burst all round. Flashes came from the hill and the ridges, and we knew the enemy had opened the ball. The sun sank once more in glory behind the island of Imbros. As night fell, an aeroplane reconnoitered over their position. On the seaward side of the Peninsula our friend the cruiser started her work in the darkness; we could actually see the shells' trail. The enemy on the Asia Minor side were dropping shrapnel — "bags" of it —  just off the point, and, thank heavens most of it was short and burst over the sea.

HMS Queen Elizabeth Opens Fire

Away in the distance, and further up the Peninsula where the Australians landed, our ships were dropping shell after shell on the heights. Altogether we had plenty to see. In front of us lay the French hospital-ship, with the little tugs running to and fro to her. From the Strait came a great man-o'-war to take a rest and load up ammunition after her day's work, and the heliographs and signalling-lamps were busy all around us. The only sign of peace here is the tranquil and beautiful sky with its gems twinkling ever.

And you think, as you lie back on the cushioned seats of the train or the "Tube" —  you think the taking of the Dardanelles is going along so nicely —  at least, so the daily papers inform you. Oh, it 's a picnic to come here! It 's a holiday from our offices, our homes, and our loved ones. We are lucky to see the world and enjoy the beautiful climate: but can you ever realise what it is costing England's sons to hang on by their eyelids on this terrible place? We know, because we've seen it, and it has been a great and terrible experience. We have seen Britain's wonderful organisation and greatness as you can never know it, although the great city of London and all its splendid workings are example enough; but, believe me, if the Allies ever gain the ascendancy over this terribly strong military position, it will only be by dint of some of the hardest fighting in this war. Our boys have had their powers of endurance tested through the terrible winter in France, but the heat which is beginning to make itself felt, and the extremes of temperature, will test any man's physical powers to their utmost.

Monday, May 3. Comparatively quiet in the battle-area. Our naval guns continue to tickle them up! Some of the men rowed officers ashore and came back full of the tales of battle. On 5th May we are going to make a big effort to get the hill and its adjacent ridge, for, on that day, the Australians hope to have gained a certain ground which will be conducive towards victory. May it be so! Hundreds of Greeks —  compelled by the Turks to fight, are coming in to surrender. Our poor fellows lay wounded for three days between the two fires before they could be brought in for treatment. The enemy have one or two big guns which are a nuisance, and they are fighting very doggedly. But actually how things are going we cannot, of course, tell.

Today an enemy aeroplane made a daring observation-flight. Our anti-aircraft guns made a useful attempt to pot him, but he escaped after quite an exciting flight. He looked like flying over our way, and we speculated as to a bomb; but no, he tried another course.

The despatch-ship brought letters for the ships' officers to-day. None for us, and great disappointment. Three and a-half weeks and not a word by mail or Press from home. It's rough on fellows homesick and unused to it. Lucky merchants, those in France!

Another big battle on Wednesday night. We havegained the village of Krithea, and fighting hard for the Hill [Achi] Baba. [Neither were ever captured in the campaign.] As usual, a terrific bombardment by our naval guns and the French 75-millimetre, which were landed early.

May 6, Thursday. Awoke to a glorious morning  —  full sun and cool breezes, sea perfect and dancing in the sunlight. What weather, and we get it every day! Beautiful nights and myriads of stars come to our gaze after viewing sunsets that beat any picture "all ends up."

View of Anzac Sector

Guns booming and banging, as usual. At 6.25 a German aeroplane flew overhead and dropped three bombs around a transport lying 300 yards from us. Great columns of water went up. The missiles were meant for our artillery just outside the camp, situated by the landing-place on the sea side of Helles Point. Later, a British and then a French aeroplane made observation-flights, and we had a most exciting time as the enemy's aircraft guns made merry, and fired well over a hundred shots. To see the shell burst and the resulting smoke hang in the air was very pretty, and it was finer still to see the way our 'planes fooled the gunners by their daring.

Heavy bombardment continues. I was on the boat-deck in charge of the party disinfecting up and cleaning machines. Some of our officers and ship's officers went ashore, but the ship hooted them back, and we guessed we were to move. At five o'clock they came back, and we started immediately for Alexandria —  so we are told. So we left the danger zone. So it was, for if one of those bombs had, perchance, hit us, we should have been blown sky-high — why?  —  well, perhaps, you can guess! After a rubber of whist and an excellent day's grub, I went forward to enjoy the night and have a talk with two of the boys about the constellations and their marvels. The phosphorescence danced gaily by us, and above us the gems of the sky sparkled gloriously. Low down the old "Flasher" threw colour upon colour before our eyes. We picked out the Pole Star, turned west, and thought  of home.

The men flushing down the decks woke me at 5 a.m. this morning, but what a morning! Air like wine, and through the cabin-doors the islands of the Archipelago — the Cyclades group  —  were studded all over the ocean. So we continued to pass them whilst eating brekker and performing physical drill. A panorama fit for the god!

Our officers who went ashore brought across relics of the great battles. Shell, cases, bullets. Tres interessant! I hear that the fight upon landing was one of the most terrible in this war. Ghastly beyond words!

So ends my first visit to the Dardanelles.

Sadly, I've never been able to identify this correspondent. Thanks to Tony Langley for discovering this gem and providing the photos. MH.

Dinant, Belgium—A Breathtaking Battlefield: A Roads Classic

Dinant Today: The Citadel, Church, and Tribute to Adolphe Sax on Charles de Gaulle Bridge

Dinant, Belgium, on the River Meuse is a strikingly beautiful town, most famous before the war for it's dramatic Notre Dame collegiate church and as the birthplace of saxophone inventor,  Adolphe Sax. The town is dominated by a huge, imposing hilltop citadel built in 1815 on the site of a 9th century fort of the  Holy Roman Empire.  In 1914, between 15 and 24 August, it became the place where French and German forces first fought each other on Belgium soil in the Great War. 

Aerial View of the Citadel
(If You Visit, Take the Cable Car to the Top, the Views Are Wonderful)

Riverside De Gaulle Monument

French scouts approaching from the south earlier had entered Dinant and discovered to their surprise that the town and fortress had been abandoned by the Belgian Army. Meanwhile, the German Army was sweeping down from the northeast. One of the first French units to arrive was the 33rd Regiment of Infantry, once commanded by future marshal Philippe Pétain, and that day the unit of future president of France, Lt. Charles de Gaulle.

On 15 August, the same day that Fort Loncin was destroyed at Liège, a contingent of French soldiers was sent up to the citadel to prepare to defend the city and Meuse Valley below, down which they expected the enemy to be advancing.  Supporting these forces was Lt. de Gaulle, who was quickly shot in the leg crossing the bridge across the Meuse.

Bridge Plaque at the Location of de Gaulle's Wounding

Afterward the detail assigned to the citadel received an unpleasant and fatal surprise.  A battalion of German troops approached along the adjacent cliffs and, undetected, entered the fortifications from the undefended rear. Badly outnumbered, the French soldiers chose to retreat and, unfortunately for them, fled down a dead end gallery. All 80 of those  men  were killed, along with 12 Germans. A monument marks where those first soldiers were cremated.

The Town After the 1914 Fighting

After an artillery duel followed,  the 8th Regiment of Infantry was ordered to take the town and citadel. The attack succeeded, and the French regained control of the town and citadel. This was merely temporary, however, since the French Army was soon to engage in a broad retreat out of Belgium and northern France.

L'Assaut by Alexandre Daoust,
Memorial to 1,200 French Who Fell Fighting Around Dinant

Dinant  also became part of the heritage of German atrocities later in the month when 674 civilians were killed in the fighting, including 112 executed for resisting or firing on the German forces.

Memorial to  the Fallen Civilians of Dinant, 116 Belgians Executed at This Location, 
23 August 1914 (Top Photo)

George Creel: Selling The War

George Creel

A two-part interview conducted on 5 and 12 April 2019 by Theo Mayer of the World War One Centennial Commission with author Alan Axelrod

Theo Mayer: With us today is Alan Axelrod, the author of more than 150 books on leadership, history, military history, and business, among others. And one of those  books that Alan wrote is called  Selling the Great War. The Making of American Propaganda. It's the bio of George Creel. We got together to talk about George, and it  turned into such an interesting conversation, we're going to have to break this out into  two parts. Here's part one of George Creel, the man who sold America on World  War I. Alan, welcome. 

Alan Axelrod: Great to be with you. 

Theo Mayer: Alan, you and I have talked about George Creel quite a bit, but let's maybe  introduce him in a broad context first. 

Alan Axelrod: Well, he was a young man from rural Missouri, who was the son of a  doting mother and an alcoholic father and not very well educated. But he had a  quick mind, and he was intensely curious, and he became a journalist, sort of through  the back door. He worked for some small-town papers and then moved to New  York, and found work as a joke writer. He eked out a living writing jokes that were just stuck in newspapers to fill space. But eventually he linked up with  a few influential people and he became a muckraker; he became a very socially high minded journalist. And in this job, he became acquainted with Woodrow Wilson during his first  run at the presidency, and he just fell in love with the man, he fell  in love with progressivism. And by the time Wilson stood for re-election in 1916, Creel  had ingratiated himself with Wilson and became the writer of Wilson's campaign biography and became  a leading exponent of Wilson, particularly Wilson's opposition to any American involvement in World War  I. And, of course, Wilson won by a very narrow margin, re-election largely on the  campaign slogan "He kept us out of war." Then, of course, he takes the oath  of office, back in those days, in March of 1917. And on 6 April of  that year he asked Congress for a declaration of war so that the United States could join the war that he had kept the country out of during this first  administration. And this put Creel in the position of having to turn the American public around, 180 degrees, from this orientation of pacifism, of absolute neutrality, to total commitment to  a war in Europe. 

Theo Mayer: Now, having an administration and a president who gets elected, who brings in a leading  and, perhaps, even controversial journalists into his inner circle, that sounds pretty familiar. 

Alan Axelrod: Absolutely. Creel had the advantage of. . . He was considered a kind of gadfly at  this point; his real power came once he started the Committee on Public Information. He  was an outsider, he was always an outsider and part of him relished being an  outsider, and part of him wanted desperately to get into the center of activity and  the center of power. He didn't really want to be the man in front of  the curtain, he wanted to be the man behind the curtain, he wanted to be  the power behind the power; and that's what he achieved with the Committee on Public  Information. 

Theo Mayer: Well, the Committee on Public Information really became an incredibly powerful aspect of American public  opinion, at large. 

Alan Axelrod: It was, and what is interesting about it is that Woodrow Wilson, who is a  man of infinite contradiction, who was proposing to fight a war as he famously told  Congress in his war message, [on] 2 April, he was taking America into a war to  make the world safe for democracy. But his first steps were ushering through passage of  draconian espionage legislation, and what he wanted to do was clamp down [with] very rigorous censorship.  He was very much afraid of espionage, and what we would call today fake news. What Creel did is took him aside and told him this would be very destructive not just to democracy, which he really didn't pursue that point very far, but it  would be destructive to the war effort because any effort at over-censorship would make  the American people feel, quite rightly, that the government was simply hiding something, and that  their motives were not on the up-and-up. So as an alternative, what Creel  proposed is that he would create a central bureau through which all information about the war would pass. That it would become the clearinghouse and the source for every bit  of information about the Great War that would be published in this country. There would  be no censorship, but there would only be one source of information, and it would  be produced in such a stream and such a flow that newspapers would welcome it.  Their work would be done for them, and they would be supplied with an endless  stream of war information that would be supplied in great detail and with all apparent  openness; and that is what happened. 

Theo Mayer: Yeah, and let's talk about that for a moment. I mean, obviously, in today's parlance,  it would be "control the message," but they actually started publishing a newspaper, the Official  Bulletin, which started the month after war was declared. Creel was the publisher, Wilson requested  it, they charged a lot of money for the Official Bulletin so that the newspapers  didn't think that he was trying to compete with them, and they started publishing, daily except Sunday. 

Alan Axelrod: And, in fact, it was the only time in American history that there was, in  effect, a national state newspaper. They did the bulletin, they also prepared news stories which were distributed from a central point in Washington DC and were available to all journalists. And they launched into many other publishing ventures, educational ventures, of course, the great poster  campaigns, what Creel called "The war of the fences," where he wanted recruiting posters and  posters to support the sale of war bonds and liberty bonds, and posters to dramatize  the atrocities that the Germans were committing and so forth; he wanted these to be  plastered on every available space in the public environment. So it was a combination of very overt propaganda but also just information; constant flow of information in every conceivable medium. The most characteristic, of course, was the Four-Minute Men, who were a cadre of  about 75,000 of them, all volunteers, usually young men reasonably prominent in their community, who  were asked to deliver a speech relating, in some way, to the war. They weren't  told what to say, but they were given sort of templates and suggestions, and they  were to deliver this speech, for the most part, in movie theaters, never to interrupt  the movie. But it was done during the four minutes it took a professional projectionist  to change reels on a feature length film in those days of silent cinema. And  that was four minutes, and they became known as the Four-Minute Men. And it was a live presentation, sort of at the intermission of a show, and it was  never delivered from a script, it always had the appearance of being quite spontaneous. It was delivered by men who [were] known to the community, and it was meant to  create a grassroots support for everything related to the war. 

Theo Mayer: Now he was the marketing behind the Liberty bond endeavor, which, it struck me, it  was something like 16, almost $17 billion. 

Alan Axelrod: Yeah, this was in 1917 and 1918 dollars. And each of the liberty loan campaigns  was vastly oversubscribed; it was an extraordinary success. It also was engineered such that those  who couldn't afford to buy bonds would by stamps; you could spend pennies or you could spend really a great deal of money supporting the war. And he handled what  I would call the soft sell end of it, the persuasive end of it. But  that complemented the other aspect of shaping thought during the war which was real social  pressure, the whole idea that "If you're not with us you're against us," and nobody  wanted to be a slacker. If you weren't out there actually fighting the war, you  had to be doing something else, and the very least you could do was contribute  money to the Liberty loans. And your neighbors would see to it that you did; lists of contributors were published. People were really strong armed into doing this. But on  Creel's side, he made it appealing. 

Theo Mayer: Well, I remember a story, Alan, where on the first Liberty loan drive, he actually  got all of the bells in all of the churches to do a ring countdown of how many days were left before the bond drive was over. So he, somehow,  convinced schools and churches and civic halls to all toll their bells, every day on  a countdown. That's pretty amazing. 

Alan Axelrod: Well, this really was the birth of public relations. Creel's own account of the Committee  on Public Information was called "How We Advertise America." But it really wasn't advertising, that  was the wrong word, it was public relations, and that word really didn't exist in  1917, 1918. But the men who became the creators of American public relations were working  for Creel, the most famous of them was Edward Bernays, who had an incredibly long  career. The man died just a few years ago. He was, I think, 101. 

Theo Mayer: Well noted as the father of public relations. 

Alan Axelrod: And that is what he was. And he was actually born in Vienna. He was  the nephew of Sigmund Freud. He grew up in the United States, he came to  the U.S. when he was less than a year old; he was an American kid.  He took to the Committee of Public Information what he was already creating in the  way of shaping the American mind, which is what he talked about, shaping the popular mind. But he honed, as a result of working on the Committee on Public Information,  he honed what he called the "science propaganda." This led to the creation of PR  as an industry. And the idea, the difference between public relations, as he conceived of it, and advertising was that advertising broadcast a message, public relations created a mindset. It  appealed to influencers, it was an attempt really to shape perception and to plant ideas  in the public mind as if those ideas came from the public themselves; it really was a campaign to shape reality, from the ground up. 

Theo Mayer: It's a rebranding of propaganda, fundamentally. 

Alan Axelrod: He called it propaganda from the beginning. And Creel also embraced the term propaganda, but  he said that it was in the sense that the Catholic Church used it, which  was as the propagation of the faith, and the faith that he was propagating, that  Creel was propagating, was the faith of Woodrow Wilson, which was democracy, as Creel saw  it, and fighting for democracy, and that was good propaganda, but it was propaganda. 

Part II

Theo Mayer: Just days after Congress votes to enter World War  I, President Wilson appoints a chairman of what was to be called the Committee on Public Information, the CPI. The man was George Edward Creel, one of the most interesting,  obscure, and, I think, influential characters of this era. So, with us to explore this  character is Alan Axelrod, the author of Selling the Great War: The Making of American  Propaganda. It's the bio of George Creel, and this is Part II of our conversation.  

Alan, to kick of Part II let's talk  about post-Armistice. You know, we've republished every issue of the official bulletin on the  website at the Commission. And one day, at the end of May, it just stops.  So, on 1 April, suddenly there's nothing in the last issue that says we're stopping. It's just all of a sudden it goes away. Did the whole committee just evaporate all of a sudden? 

Alan Axelrod: It evaporated all of a sudden. Congress cut it off and Congress went after it  with almost literally a hatchet. They threw everything away that they could get their hands on; they destroyed all the records they could get their hands on. The only things that were saved was what Creel himself managed to salvage. He rented trucks and men  to load them and took stuff away and stored it at his own expense. And any of this vast amount of material that he didn't save was destroyed. There was  a real revulsion in Congress against everything he had done. It was very strange. 

Theo Mayer: Well, revulsion of just him, or him and Wilson both? 

Alan Axelrod: After the Armistice and ultimately after the defeat of the League of Nations in the  U.S. and the Treaty of Versailles, there was a real collective political effort at group  national amnesia. There was almost an effort to erase most of what the war had  been about, and Creel's effort was part of it. I actually think that part of  the animus against Creel was that he had done his job too well, that the  propaganda and the mindset it created were considered dangerous, and that the incoming Republican wave that swept in after Wilson, first with the midterm elections that transformed the balance  of Congress, wanted to disengage the nation from the global orientation that it was getting  under Wilson. It was the closest thing we ever had to a book burning. 

Theo Mayer: So, we get to the end of the war and suddenly all of this just sort of disappears, evaporates, goes away. And over the next number of years, this stuff  starts to re-emerge as Germany re-emerges in power. We've talked about that in the past. Why don't you talk about that a little bit. 

Alan Axelrod: Creel himself preserved much of this and later told the story, but between the wars  with the rise of the Nazi party and the rise of Adolf Hitler, Joseph Goebbels discovered not Creel first but actually the writings of the nephew of Sigmund Freud, this Jew named Edward Bernays, and his book Propaganda, which came out in the 1920s, and  then there was another book after that. Goebbels was very excited about this, and through it he discovered the work of the Committee on Public Information. He put all of  this together and saw this as the template for what the Nazis needed to do to not just help further the demonization of the Jews but for creating an orientation  to war. The Germans had lost World War I, but they came out of World  War I intact. Their cities weren't destroyed, their farms weren't destroyed, they weren't pocked with shell holes, they weren't crisscrossed with trenches, but they had lost. That became a  narrative of betrayal, betrayal by democracy, and betrayal by the Jews. That became the central  message of Nazi propaganda. And the answer to that was to fight to re-litigate that  war with a new war. And the basis for doing that had all been laid  out by the methods of Creel and Bernays and others who worked for the CPI. It had to do not with withholding information, but by controlling information and putting it  out there in profusion and with apparent full transparency. And Bernays, when he learned of  this, was appalled that Goebbels had his books in his library and was a big  fan. 

Theo Mayer: Well, it is incredibly ironic. Alan, let's wrap this up with what happened to Creel  after World War I as a person. 

Alan Axelrod: Creel became a writer. I mean, he went on writing. He became a journalist. He  made a very good living as a feature writer for popular magazines, such as Colliers  and so forth. And then he became a labor activist during the Depression and once  again found somebody to champion and to support in Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal. And he tried to enter politics. He ran for governor of California in 1934 in  the Democratic primary, and his leading opponent was Upton Sinclair. Neither of them prevailed, of course. But he didn't disappear; he just never became particularly influential. 

Theo Mayer: Obviously he was incredibly influential in this period from turn of the century, 1915 on  through 1920 something. Why don't we know his name? 

Alan Axelrod: Well, I would say first of all the major reason is that there was an  active movement at the end of the war to bury him. He was excluded from  history that essentially he himself wrote, and he never again attained prominence in politics. Until  the emergence of FDR, the White House was dominated by Republicans, politics was dominated by Republicans. He was an [inaudible] Republican, so he wasn't going to get any love there.  And he turned to writing a series of popular, but quite undistinguished books. I mean,  if you read his writing it's fascinating historically, but he wasn't a very good writer. He's rather dull, he is burdened by cliches. He's the kind of labor-oriented popular  writers of the '30s but without any real voice. So he never really got a  foothold in the popular mind. He became a kind of shadowy figure. He was discredited. He was the victim of very deliberate campaigns to discredit him, and they stuck. He  wasn't ruined as a human being. He made money, he lived. He certainly wasn't in  despair. He wrote toward the very end of his life an autobiography that is at  least readable, called Rebel at Large, but nobody much cared.