War Artist Fernand Léger

Léger in His Studio, Probably After the Great War

Fernand Léger (1881–1955) was an established French artist at the time war broke out. He had seen earlier national service and was recalled to the army in 1914 and was assigned to the Engineer Corps. He saw extensive service in the Argonne sector near Verdun for two years when he became a victim of mustard gas. His most famous war work, known as the "The Card Players" was created while he was recuperating. His style is described as a  naive, energetic modified form of cubism, with machine-like figures using flat tones of pure primary colors, black, white, and gray.

July 14, 1914
Last Work Before the Declaration of War

The Proof That the Man Descended from the Monkey, 1915

But how much of an effect did the war have on Léger? Any feelings of despair or cynicism provoked by first-hand contact with its carnage are markedly absent from the work. Léger was, in fact, invigorated by the contact with his “new companions” in the Engineer Corps—“the whole of the French people”. Then there was the “dazzling” sight of “the breech of a 75-millimetre gun which was standing uncovered in the sunlight: the magic of light on white metal.” World War One didn’t alter Léger’s take on the machine. If anything, it emboldened a sensibility already entranced by the machine’s regularity, precision, and power. Admittedly, a revived humanism did enter the work, if not always in imagery—Léger’s figures are always robots or symbols, never flesh-and-blood entities—then in spirit and reach. Compare Leger’s art with that of post-war contemporaries like Otto Dix, Max Ernst, or Max Beckmann, and Léger comes off as positively sunny. Not every artist who has experienced suffering has to suffer in the studio. Léger remained something of a utopian until the end of his days. You can’t help but think: More power to him.

Commentary by Mario Naves in his blog Too Much Art

The Card Party, 1917

The Plane Crash, ?

Léger consistently embraced an industrial style for the rest of his career. He took refuge 1940–45 in the USA, where he started to make compositions of divers, acrobats, and cyclists. Returning in 1945 to France, became a communist, and in his last years was active not only as a painter but as designer for the ballet and of polychrome sculpture in ceramic, mosaics, and stained glass. Léger died at Gif-sur-Yvette in 1955.

Disks, 1918
One of  Postwar "Disk" Series

The First World War, Dr. Dakin, and His Wound Care Solution

BY ALAN COULSON M.D.

About this time a hundred years ago the nations of Europe were on an unsuccessful suicide watch.  

Imperial rivalries, competition for markets and ultra nationalism made International conflict all but inevitable. Thus the subsequent assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in June, 1914, was all it took to trigger one of the deadliest wars in history, an Armageddon with a final tally of 16 million dead.

On the Western Front, German forces were bogged down fighting against those of France and Britain, and so by 1915, trench systems scarred the face of Northern France stretching 400 miles from Switzerland to the English Channel. Much of the fighting took place on agricultural land which had been fertilized with manure, and was thus loaded with gangrene-causing bacteria. Since it rained so much, the ground was usually muddy so a soldier wounded and falling to the ground would inevitably get infected.

The number of casualties was inconceivable. For example, in the first few hours of fighting during the ill-fated Battle of the Somme on July 1st 1916, Britain lost 57 thousand men, including 19 thousand dead, as wave after wave of men were ordered to walk towards the German machine guns.  The front line hospitals were overwhelmed and many soldiers died unnecessarily from infections that spread from their bullet and shrapnel wounds.

Henry Dakin, PhD, and Alexis Carrel, MD

Enter Henry Dakin (1880–1952), a PhD biochemist born in England and working in New York in 1905. Although he was not a physician, he was interested in finding an antiseptic that would kill bacteria in the presence of body fluids but not hurt the white cells trying to defend the patient. It is important to note all his work was done in test tubes, and Dakin never saw a patient or a wound. He observed that chemicals like iodine are so powerful that they kill bacteria and human tissues indiscriminately, and then they bind with human proteins and are rendered ineffective in a short time.

Dakin eventually found that dilute household bleach, sodium hypochlorite, was the best antiseptic chemical, thus confirming the work of the French researchers Labarraque and Berthollet, who first described this phenomenon in the early 1800s. Dakin was shy and retiring and was reluctant to speak in public. As a result, the world would probably never have heard of Dakin or his obscure solution except for two things: the start of World War I and Alexis Carrel.

Alexis Carrel (1873–1944) was in many ways the opposite of Dakin. He was a short Napoleonic figure and in his photographs looks like an arrogant prelate of medical science, and for a good reason; among other things he invented vascular surgery, performed the first heart bypass surgery and the first heart transplant, won a Nobel Prize, and invented tissue culture. But even though he was working in New York at the Rockefeller Institute, and had been there since 1905, as a French citizen he was drafted when the war started and deployed to a hospital just behind the front lines at Compiègne. 

An Underground French Field Hospital During the War

There he did a number of important things, including combining thorough cleansing of wounds with antiseptic irrigation and recruiting his former New York neighbor Dr. Dakin to be his hospital chemist. Intuitively, Carrel also chose Dakin’s solution to be the medicine to use for the irrigation.

This concept was termed the Carrel-Dakin technique, and as far as I can tell, it was the first time Dakin’s solution was actually used on patients and also the first time irrigation had been used. The gamble soon paid off; Dakin’s solution successfully killed the bacteria and, more important, also did not hurt growing skin. Wounded soldiers began to get better. So Carrel then renamed the all-important solution — it was christened the “Carrel-Dakin solution”.

Headlines in the New York Times soon followed: “Drs. Carrel and Dakin find new antiseptic; Remedy said to make infection impossible.” Certainly the technique and the solution were used all over the world and saved thousands of lives, with Carrel largely taking credit for Dakin’s discovery. After the war Carrel came home to a hero’s welcome.

A tube is inserted in the leg of an American soldier wounded in World War I, providing irrigation of the knee with Dakin’s solution.

Once the war was over, Dakin and Carrel drifted apart. The mild-mannered Dr. Dakin essentially retired, whereas Carrel became increasingly famous, or so it seemed until his decision to return to his native France in 1941, during the Second World War, where he became linked to the Vichy government and eugenics research. This move made him very unpopular to say the least, so much so, that after his death in Paris in 1944, Carrel’s name was rarely mentioned in polite society.

With Carrel out of the picture, the lifesaving medication reverted back to its original name, “Dakin’s Solution”, and as such it is used by the gallon in wound care centers worldwide, including the one here at Hamlet, the Sandhills Center for Wound Healing and Hyperbaric Medicine. Remarkably, a hundred years after its rediscovery it remains one of our most valuable treatment modalities.

My later friend Dr. Alan Coulson (1941-2022) was  a panel physician at the Sandhills Center for Wound Healing and Hyperbaric Medicine in Hamlet, NC. He was a certified wound care specialist, and was also board certified in surgery, and in hyperbaric medicine.

World War I Centennial Battlefield Tours – Update

We have recently refined our unfolding Centennial Battlefield Tour Program. Detailed itineraries and prices are now available for our trips through 2015 and the schedules have been set for the future trips. Just click on our Travel Page icon below the flyer to request brochures and reservation information.

For More Information Go To

WORLDWAR1.com/travel.htm

Overlord's Commanders and Their Great War Service

The High Command for Operation Overlord, except for Supreme Commander General Dwight Eisenhower and U.S. First Army Commander Omar Bradley, was predominately made up of veterans of the Great War, who had all seen notable service in that conflict.  In some cases, such as Bernard Montgomery's, they also survived serious wounds.

SHAEF's High Command

Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Tedder 
WWI Service: RFC/RAF
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Deputy Supreme Allied Commander

Air Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory 
WWI Service: Lancashire Fusiliers and RFC/RAF
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Air Forces Commander

Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay
WWI Service: Commander HMS Broke
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Naval Forces Commander

General Bernard Law Montgomery
WWI Service: 47th Division, among several
D-Day, 6 June 1944: 21st Army Group Commander (Land Forces Commander)

Lt. General Miles Dempsey (Not shown)
WWI Service: Royal Berkshire Regiment
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Second British Army

Lt. General Walter Bedell Smith 
WWI Service: 4th Division
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Chief of Staff SHAEF

Further, a number of the divisional commanders that led their units in airborne drops or onto the beaches were also notable veterans of the First World War. The first two on this list, Clarence Heubner and Charles Gerhardt, were earlier involved in the first "D-Day" in history, the U.S. First Army's St. Mihiel Offensive, 12 September 1918, for which the designations "D-Day" and H-Hour" were coined.

MG Clarence Huebner
WWI Service: 1st Division
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Commander, 1st Division

MG Charles Hunter Gerhardt
WWI Service: 89th Division
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Commander, 29th Division

MG Raymond O. Barton
WWI Service: 8th Division (Occupation Only)
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Commander, 4th Division

MG Richard Nelson Gale
WWI Service: Machine Gun Corps,
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Commander, 6th Airborne Division

MG Douglas Alexander Henry Graham
WWI Service: 1st Cameronians (Scottish Rifles)
D-Day, 6 June 1944: Commander, 50th Division

Our Virtual Tour of the Western Front returns next Friday.

Let's Revisit The Great War and Modern Memory

Recently, when we presented David Beer's excellent review and reevaluation of Paul Fussell's The Great War and Modern Memory, I had a bit of a brain-lock. I had forgotten that Tony Langley of our editorial team had contributed many of the images used in the 2009 "Illustrated" version of Fussell's classic. As you can see from the sample pages below, Tony's contributions from his enormous collection of period images and publications really enhanced the volume.

Here is a link to Amazon if you would like to order the Sterling Publishing illustrated version of the book and add some of Tony's finest specimens to your library.

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The Gurkhas at Gallipoli

Contributed by Jim Patton

Gurkha Soldiers in a Trench at Gallipoli (Cap Badge Shown)

When organizing the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, Gen. Sir Ian Hamilton lobbied hard to get a Gurkha Brigade included. Hamilton was an old India hand and appreciated the Gurkha’s ability to fight in hilly terrain. When he offered to leave four cavalry brigades, he was to get an Indian brigade, to be all Gurkhas when available, as there was only one Gurkha battalion in Egypt, the 1/6th. Adding three other Indian battalions on hand (14th Sikhs, 69th and 89th Punjabis), the 29th (Indian) Brigade was formed. Due to delays in formation the new 29th didn’t arrive at the front behind V Beach until 9 May. The ability of the 1/6th was quickly proven by the capture of a highland subsequently known as "Gurkha Bluff". Two previous assaults by British troops had failed, and this secured the left flank of the British line all the way to the sea. 

Two days later Hamilton decided to remove the Punjabis because of concern about the loyalty of their Muslim companies, even though they had already been engaged and sustained casualties. The brigade was at half strength until 2 June, when the 1/5th and 2/10th Gurkhas arrived from India. Hamilton had his Gurkha brigade at last. 

The 29th fought in the Third Battle of Krithia and specifically the action at Gully Ravine, where the 14th Sikhs were decimated in a brave but futile attack. On 5 July, after heavy casualties (only eight British officers remained in the entire brigade, including the staff) the 29th had to be pulled back to Imbros. 

Gully Ravine Today — A Horrible Place to Fight

It was difficult to replace officers who could not only speak the language of the men but were often deeply respected and implicitly trusted by the ranks. It was thought important that officers set a high standard of élan. One frequently mentioned example was Capt. W.K. Brown of the 1/5th Gurkhas, who drew his sword — he was probably the only officer on the peninsula who wore one –— and led his men in a gallant, though doomed, charge. 

The battalions were brought back up to strength, and the brigade was to be augmented by the 1/4th Gurkhas and detachments from 2/5th and 1/9th Gurkhas sent from France, but they were delayed and didn't arrive until 25 August, so the 6th S Lancs and the 9th Warwicks (which included the young Lt. W.J. Slim, much later Field Marshal and Viscount) were temporarily attached. This reconstituted 29th became part of the new Indian Expeditionary Force “G”, landed on 6 August, and immediately moved to the northern flank of Anzac and joined in what would be last major attempt to break the stalemate.

Part of the left assaulting column, Force “G” were continuously engaged in action, with little rest or sleep, till the 10th. Despite this, they rose magnificently to the occasion and played a vital role in the battle for the Sari Bair Ridge. 

The climax of this action occurred on the morning of the 9th when the ridge was crested at Hill Q by an ad hoc force led by Major C.J.L.Allanson, the CO of 1/6th Gurkhas, which included his 1/6th, elements from the British battalions, and a party from the 1/5th that had been separated from their battalion, charged at dawn, and overcame the enemy defenders.  

Major (Later Lt. Col.) Allanson

Allanson, who was wounded but survived, later wrote:

Then off we dashed, all hand in hand, most perfect and a wonderful sight. At the top we met the Turks; Le Marchant was down, a bayonet through the heart. I got one through the leg, and then for about what appeared to be to be ten minutes we fought hand to hand, we hit and fisted, we used rifles and pistols as clubs and then the Turks turned and fled, and I felt a very proud man: the key of the whole peninsula was ours, and our losses had not been so very great for such a result. Below I saw the strait, motor s and wheeled transport on the road leading to Achi Baba. As I looked around I saw that we were not going to be supported and thought that I could help best by going after those who had retreated in front of us. We dashed down towards Maidos but only about two hundred feet when suddenly our Navy put six twelve inch monitor shells into us and all was terrible confusion. It was a deplorable disaster; we were obviously mistaken for Turks and we had to go back … We all flew back to the summit and took our old positions just below. I remained on the crest with about fifteen men; it was a wonderful sight.

John North added in his book Gallipoli: The Fading Vision —

The lonely advance of these British and Gurkha skirmishers to the crest of the ridge, when the battle was already lost must always remain one of the most gallant episodes in the whole campaign.

  

As the Gurkhas pursued the enemy down the opposite slope, they were hit by a salvo of naval gunfire which, combined with heavy enemy fire from the directions of Abdel Rehman Bair and a subsequent counterattack, drove them back from the summit. They were able to rally on the line held the previous night, but all of the British officers of 1/6th except the medical officer were casualties and in command was a subhadar-major who spoke no English.

The battle for Sari Bair was now lost, and strong enemy counterattacks on the 10th pushed the Allies to a line along the lower slopes of the ridge, which was entrenched and held till the end of the campaign. 

Hill Q in the Middle Distance from Chunuk Bair, Hill 971 Farther Back

The Indian Brigade was actively involved in the assault on Hill 60, the last battle of any magnitude to be undertaken. After the capture of Hill 60 on 28 August, the entire line settled down to the routine of trench war. Force “G” held a front on the extreme left flank of the Anzac defenses, extending northward from Hill 60 and joining up with the right of IX Corps at Suvla, and elements remained in these positions till the final evacuation on 20 December.  

Indian casualties for the campaign were 4,130, with 1,300 dead.

When the historic Indian Army was divided in 1947, four Gurkha regiments went to the British Army. Although not one of the distinguished regiments, one was the 6th Gurkhas. Designated "Queen Elizabeth’s Own" in 1959, in 1994 the 6th was combined with the 2nd to form today’s 1st Bn, Royal Gurkha Rifles.

Sources: United Services Institute (India), Byron Farwell, The Gurkhas, 1984

Alamo Doughboy: Marching into the Heart of Kaiser's Germany During World War I — Reviewed By Michael Kihntopf

Alamo Doughboy: Marching into the Heart of Kaiser's Germany During World War I

by Jennifer Rude Klett

Branden Books, 2013

Judge Knott (Waving Flag) with Fellow Recruits Leaving Willmar, MN, 26 April 1918

A review of almost any publisher's spring catalogue offerings in this centennial year reveals that there will be a flood of Great War books coming to the market. Some of them are new works while a vast majority of the books are re-releases. This veritable deluge will overwhelm many works that are more noteworthy than others. Such is the case of Alamo Doughboy, a truly noteworthy work that should not be missed or wind up overshadowed.

Jennifer Rude Klett is a self-described non-fiction writer living in Wisconsin. She is one of the granddaughters of Pvt. George "Judge" Knott, the primary subject of this book, who was a member of the 90th Infantry Division. Yet the book is more than just one Doughboy's experience. Klett vividly describes the experiences of Knott, his two brothers, and two cousins who were also involved in fighting in the war to end all wars in France. Her sources included letters written home from "somewhere in France," documents kept by Knott's daughter, and interviews that were recorded shortly before Knott died in the 1970s.

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The author lays out a captivating story starting with life on the farm in Minnesota where the Knott family had its roots. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the family was not of the silk stocking variety as is so often the case in a personal experience in the Great War. The family was large with four brothers and five sisters. The boys shared one sleeping room with two beds while the sisters had a separate room with the same shared sleeping accommodations. Judge, our central figure, was told to quit school after completing the eighth grade and worked on the family farm, sometimes putting in 14-hour days at 25 cents for each of those long days. His two older brothers did not finish high school either.

I was again surprised when I didn't find the usual patriotic flare of voluntarily enlisting as soon as war was declared. Instead, all three brothers duly registered for the draft in June 1917 and waited their turn. They were inducted in quick succession beginning in September 1917 and ending in May of the following year. The first brother and Judge went to the 88th Division, while the third brother went to the 6th Division. But the life of an inductee is never so easy. Both brothers who had gone to the 88th Division became backfills to other divisions that were already supplying drafts to divisions leaving for France. Judge found himself in Camp Travis, TX, with the 90th Division, composed primarily of inductees from Texas and Oklahoma, in which he stayed for the entire war. Having a similar upbringing as the farmers and ranchers he was housed with, Knott fit right in with the ethos of the division.

What unfolds after those initial chapters is a story of life in the trenches for a Doughboy. Judge Knott saw action in St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne offensive with his brothers and cousins assigned in adjacent divisions engaged in the same actions. Judge's letters home are quite revealing regarding the tedium that the common Doughboy experienced, as well as containing brief glimpses into combat situations, and that is what makes this book different from the rest. There are no generalities nor are there aspirations toward a higher goal. Judge and his brothers saw their service as something that they owed their country as citizens and not as an inconvenience. This factor comes through time after time. None of the brothers complains about raw living conditions or the fear of battle or standing guard. There are the scattered notations of being homesick, but not the deep, almost depression-ridden thoughts that other books portray. The narration is like talking to a friend over a steaming cup of coffee on a cold winter night.

Judge Knott (Top Left) and His Mates from Company G, 360th Infantry, 90th Division

Miraculously, all three brothers survive the war, without wounds, and the final chapters are filled with letters from them as part of the occupation forces, which offer another insight into the Great War. Like those brothers, this work needs to survive the flood of centennial releases.

Michael Kihntopf

Shell Shock Then, PTSD Now

In sorting out some of my image files, I came across a group of images of shell shock victims from the war, which I have turned into the collage below. I thought the subject was worth a fresh look so I've added links to some of the better articles I've come across on the subject from the Great War and today's wars. Incidentally, I recall that when I was gathering the images for an article published long ago, I had trouble finding photos of such distressed patients. In the middle on the right side is a figure that readers may recognize as Major William Donovan of the 42nd Rainbow Division. To my knowledge he was not diagnosed with shell shock, but in the photo he is clearly showing the strain of the continual battle his unit engaged in. He was wounded sometime after this photo and received the Medal of Honor for his service in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive.

Recommended Articles:

The Medical View in 1917

The BBC Looks Back

Reevaluating Society's Perception of Shell Shock

Current Forms of Treatment, Services and Support for PTSD

Weapons of War: The Luger Parabellum P-08 Pistol

The Parabellum Pistol of 1908 (P-08) was the standard German sidearm in both World Wars. In 1908 the German Army adopted the Luger to replace the Reichsrevolver in frontline service. It was a single-action, recoil-operated, semi-automatic pistol with a capacity of eight 7.65mm rounds. The Luger was a prized war souvenir for both Doughboys and GIs.

31 May 1918: It Was the Machine Gunners of the 3rd Division Who Showed Up First at Château-Thierry

On 30 May, after being released by General Pershing, the 2nd and 3rd Divisions of the AEF were ordered to report to the French 6th Army, which had fallen back to the vicinity of Château-Thierry ,where the German penetration had reached its deepest point in France. There was apprehension of the Germans crossing the Marne, at least in sufficient force to seize a bridgehead available for later renewed attacks. It was the 3rd Division that was given the job of defending the Marne river line at Château-Thierry.

Destroyed Bridge at Château Thierry

The division's infantry entrained to go by railroad, a procedure which, because of the demoralization of the French railway service by the German advance, was certain to require several days. One unit of the division, however, was ready to make its own way to the Marne. This was the 7th Machine Gun Battalion, which was equipped with its own motor transport.

The battalion left Laferté-sur-Aube at 2:55 p.m., 30 May. After a 24-hour forced drive, the battalion reported to the French commander at 2:00 p.m. on 31 May and was ordered to proceed at once to Château-Thierry to aid in the defense of the Marne bridges there. Breakdowns and lack of gasoline had delayed some of the cars, but there were 17 machine gun squads present [to continue on].

Arriving at Château-Thierry close to 6:00 p.m., a reconnaissance determined that the 10th French Colonial Division was in contact with the German advance at the northern edge of the city. [Château-Thierry straddles both the northern – its larger section – and southern sides of the Marne.] The battalion set up its guns on the south bank where its fire could defend the approaches to the bridges and in addition could command much of the city on the north side of the Marne.

Machine Gunners of the 7th Machine Gun Battalion on the South Side of the Marne River

When darkness fell that night one section of Company A, under 1st Lt. J.T. Bissell, was sent across the west bridge to take up an outpost position on the north bank. He was to fight a delaying action if attacked, to keep the main line of the battalion notified of developments, and to fall back to the sought bank if attacked in force.

The Germans pounded the south bank that night with a bombardment so severe that in spite of the extended fashion in which the battalion was posted, 14 of its personnel were wounded before morning. In spite of the deterrent effect of the bombardment, by 4:00 a.m. the battalion had 17 guns in position and firing. Belated squads, which had been delayed on the road, arrived from time to time, and these were held in reserve.

During the day of 1 June  the Germans pressed their advance vigorously. To the northwest they drove the French into Belleau Wood, and to the west they took [the village of] Vaux and Hill 204, towering above the surrounding terrain, and thus completely isolated Château-Thierry. They failed, however, to penetrate into the city in force, and much of this failure may be ascribed to the machine gun barrage maintained by the 7th Battalion, which had so set up its guns to command most of the streets in the city on the north bank.

The Germans attempted without success to mask their advance by the use of smoke bombs. In addition, they bombarded the battalion's gun positions but failed to reduce the volume of firing.

After darkness fell the night of the 1st, the Germans began to filter into the city in force. Toward 1:00 a.m., 2 June, Lt. Bissell's outpost party was pushed back by the weight of this advance. Thereupon he led his party toward the west bridge with the intention of crossing to join the rest of the battalion on the south bank.

The German infiltration, however, had come from the northwest and before Bissell's detachment reached the north end of the west bridge, the bridge was occupied in force by Germans. They turned a fierce machine gun fire on the approaching Americans, scattering the detachment.

After the Battle (Note the Fatigue in the Eyes of the Machine Gunners)

Bissell then made his way toward the east bridge accompanied by a few American soldiers and a group of Poilus. They found it impossible to approach of the constant fire directed upon its approaches by the Americans on the south bank. After giving up an attempt to swim the river, Bissell ventured into the field of fire and shouted to the Americans on the south bank until they recognized his voice. As a result of his courage, fire was halted long enough for him and his followers to get across to the south bank.

Unfortunately, during the confusion of the last hectic few minutes of his adventures, Bissell had been informed by a French officer that the west bridge, which he knew was held by Germans, had been crossed successfully by [the enemy]. When Bissell imparted this startling information to the American officer in charge of the defense around the east bridge, the latter ordered a retreat in order to save his detachment from capture. The peculiar error was discovered before it caused any damage, and the Americans returned to the south bank posts they had been holding so effectively.

As a matter of fact, the French had managed to blow up the west bridge before the Germans had crossed it. [Some eyewitnesses reported] a number of Germans about to cross were caught by the explosion and their bodies hurled far into the air and out over the river. At any rate, no German that night or later crossed the Marne into the southern part of Château-Thierry.

Meanwhile, the main body of the 3rd Division, moving more slowly by railroad and later by marching, approached the area with orders to prevent the Germans from crossing the river between Château-Thierry and Dormans [to the east]. The infantry, without artillery or engineers, reached the scene on 3 June. The regiments passed to the control of the French and were assigned defensive positions on the south bank of the Marne.

[By preempting other possibilities for their adversaries advancing south, the 3rd Division had fulfilled its mission, which was to prevent the Germans from crossing the Marne at Château-Thierry.] During June, the scattered elements of the 3rd Division were put to a variety of uses. On  7 and 8 June, the 30th Infantry [long associated with San Francisco's Presidio] assisted the French in their assault on Hill 204. Between 15 and 22 June, the 7th Infantry relieved the Marines in Belleau Wood. The Doughboys also participated in night raids to capture German prisoners for interrogation. Other elements of the division were constantly and somewhat aimlessly shifted around along the south bank of the Marne.

[But] by patiently exerted pressure on the French corps command[er], Major General Dickman commanding the division, at length drew his scattered units together, so that in July it presented a unified front to the enemy along the south bank of the Marne east of Château-Thierry. It was there to play one of the greatest roles falling to an American division during the war.

Sources: 3rd Division ABMC History; Doughboy Center Website

Western Front Virtual Tour — Stop 21: Newfoundland Memorial Park, Beaumont-Hamel

The Large Photo Taken from the Base of the Caribou Monument Is Directed Toward the German Postion at Y-Ravine, a Strongly Fortified and Deep Emplacement at the Base of the Slope.  The Group is Walking Through a Preserved Trench.  The Highlander Statue Honors the 51st Scottish Division, Which Finally Cleared the Site in November 1916.

Facts from Veterans Affairs of Canada

Beaumont-Hamel is located nine kilometres north of the town of Albert in the Department of the Somme.

On 1 July 1916, the opening day of the Battle of the Somme, the Newfoundland Regiment fought its first engagement in France, its costliest of the whole war.

The Beaumont-Hamel Newfoundland Memorial was dedicated to the memory of those Newfoundlanders who served during the First World War and specifically commemorates those who died and have no known grave. The memorial site was 7 opened June 1925 by Earl Haig.

The memorial is the largest of the five sites in France and Belgium that honor the Newfoundland Regiment. It is 30 hectares (74 acres).

R.H.K. Cochius, originally from Holland, then living in Newfoundland, was the landscape architect for the site design.

The noble bronze caribou is the emblem of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment. Basil Gotto, a sculptor from England, created the bronze caribou monument. The caribou stands on a mound, surrounded by rock and shrubs native to Newfoundland, proudly facing in the direction of the former foe and overlooking the trenches and ground across which the battalion advanced on 1 July  1916.

Inscribed on three bronze tablets located at the base of the monument are the 814 names of those members of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment, the Newfoundland Royal Naval Reserve and the Mercantile Marine who died during the First World War and have no known grave.

At the end of June 1916, the 1st Battalion of the Newfoundland Regiment comprised slightly more than 1,000 all ranks.

On 1 July 1916, 798 all ranks deployed into the trenches (excluding 33 others detached to mortar and machine gun companies), and 22 officers and about 758 other ranks were sent forward against the enemy (approximately 10 percent of a battalion was held in reserve during any attack). Of these, all the officers and slightly under 658 other ranks became casualties. Only around 110 remained unscathed.

The battalion's war diary on 7 July 1916, states that on 1 July the overall casualties for the battalion were 310 all ranks killed, died of wounds, or missing believed killed, and that 374 all ranks were wounded, a total of 684. Some of the wounded subsequently died.

F. Scott Fitzgerald's Post Mortem

Source: Brucolli Collection, University of South Carolina

100 Years Ago: Quotes from May 1914

This paradise of light, beauty, charm & light, but duty calls.
Kaiser Wilhelm from Corfu, 3 May

I, Woodrow Wilson, . . . do hereby direct the government officials to display the United States flag on all government buildings and do invite the people of the United States to display the flag at their homes or other suitable places on the second Sunday in May as a public expression of our love and reverence for the mothers of our country.

Proclamation, 9 May 

The Sprightly Cover Image Belies the Multiple Diplomatic Problems
with Mexico Hinted at in the Secondary Headlines

To wait any longer meant a diminishing of our chances
Conrad von Hötzendorf to Moltke, 12 May

[There is] no reason whatever to avoid [war] but quite the opposite [with] good prospects today to conduct a great European war quickly and victoriously.

Quartermaster General Georg von Waldersee (Moltke Deputy), 18 May

But what will you do if the British do not appear in the German Bight?
Admiral Tirpitz criticizing the German Navy's assumption that the Royal Navy would attempt a close-in blockade

All that is really necessary for the peace of Europe is that nations should give each other the credit for good will and good intentions.  Nations only hate each other if they first think they are hated. . .on the whole it is true today that Governments in the present day are much too busy to be nearly so clever as people think. (Laughter)

Sir Edward Grey, Speech to Foreign Press Association, 20 May

You had enough of sorrow before death —
Away, away! You are safer in the Tomb
William Butler Yeats, To a Shade, May 1914

RMS Empress of Ireland sank in the St. Lawrence River the night of 29 May 1914, after colliding with the Norwegian collier S/S Storstad. The accident took 1012 lives.

The project of the Channel Tunnel is once more under the consideration of the Government. The Liberal party is still in power, building Dreadnoughts and talking peace. Our friendship with France has stood the test of time. Our relations with Germany have become normal and even cordial. But it seems doubtful whether even now the project will be sanctioned, and if sanctioned it should be, the chief reason will be that a fresh terror, due to novel forms of warfare, has in the interval begun to prey upon our minds. Fear vetoed the scheme then; it is just conceivable that a rival fear may advocate it now. A Europe in which such alarms may be seriously entertained by great masses of educated and civilised men is a continent dominated by the nightmare of war, a society in which nation no more trusts nation than man trusts man under a lawless oriental despotism. The refusal to construct a tunnel betrayed our knowledge that we live in an epoch of militarism. . . 

Henry Noel Brailsford, The War of Steel and Gold: A Study of the Armed Peace, published May 1914

The Great War and Modern Memory — Reviewed by David Beer

The Great War and Modern Memory

by Paul Fussell, with a new introduction by Jay Winter

Oxford University Press, 2013

Reading The Great War and Modern Memory again recently was like running into a dear and respected old friend after a hiatus of several years. That Oxford University Press would issue a new printing of this 1975 classic in 2013, now with an introduction by Jay Winter, was a further reminder to me that the book is a seminal landmark in Great War studies for many scholars and readers. (An illustrated edition was published by Sterling in 2009.) It's no surprise that the original book won the National Book Award and the National Book Critics Circle Award and was named one of the 20th century's 100 Best Non-Fiction Books by the Modern Library.

The new introduction by Jay Winter, himself a noted writer and scholar in the field, adds to our appreciation of what Paul Fussell achieved in this publication almost 40 years ago and the influence it has had on so many since then. Winter not only refers to the work as a great book twice in his short introduction, but also states that through his work Fussell did much to create the field in which Winter himself has become a noted scholar. It would be hard nowadays to find any book on the literature and memory of the Great War and its cultural history that doesn't cite Fussell's work in one way or another.

Professor Fussell's Service in World War II Had a Great Influence on All of His Military Writings

Paul Fussell died in May 2012 after writing over 20 books as a curmudgeonly college professor of cultural history and literature. As a young man he had seen his share of combat and bloodshed in the Second World War and bore the wounds to prove it. In The Great War and Modern Memory he looked at our view of WWI as received from those participants who wrote about the war and who were so often steeped in the annals of English literature. Many of these writers were not only part of a literary tradition but also established one that future authors, especially war authors, would draw heavily on.

Thus we meet in the book most of the best-known poets and memoirists of the war, such as Owen, Sassoon, Sorley, David Jones, Blunden, Graves, and others. Fussell places them in the tradition of poets such as Thomas Hardy, Wordsworth, Yeats, Thoreau, and Arnold. He also shows how the attitudes and rhetoric of the war authors are echoed in the more recent writing of authors such as Thomas Pynchon, Anthony Powell, Norman Mailer, and Joseph Heller. Catch-22 and Gravity's Rainbow are frequently cited. The latter's more graphic scenes are tellingly shown by Fussell at the end of his book as symbolising the overall filth, insanity, and obscenity of war.

For Fussell, war is searingly ironic, and none is more ironic than the Great War. Situational irony occurs when our actions have an effect totally opposite from what we had hoped for or intended. It's easy to recognize irony in the image of cheerful, healthy young soldiers marching proudly from their towns and villages to images of torn bodies bleeding and drowning in mud. The Great War and Modern Memory is centered on this kind of irony and how it played out in both the actions of the war and the literature that came from the war.

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There's no doubt that this book is a literary one and of primary significance to those interested in both literature—especially British literature—and the matter of the Great War. It was a war in which "an astonishing number took literature seriously," as Fussell points out, and thus his book is "about the British experience on the Western Front from 1914 to 1918 and some of the literary means by which it has been remembered, conventionalized, and mythologized". (p. xv) It has certainly stood the test of time well and has had considerable impact throughout the years. Randall Stevenson, for example, in his recent Literature and the Great War (Oxford, 2013) refers to Fussell frequently, as do many others writers on the Great War.

The book has its critics, too. Many have faulted Fussell with being too British-centric, or of making connections between works of literature which are far-fetched or overstated. A good example of such criticism can be found in David Reynolds's excellent The Long Shadow: The Legacies of the Great War in the Twentieth Century (Norton, 2014). While admitting that Fussell's book has had great influence and has sold over 100,000 copies, Reynolds takes Fussell to task on a number of issues throughout The Long Shadow and is by no means alone in his fault-finding.

Few books are without their critics, of course, as well it should be. In defense of a cherished old friend, however, it seems to me that much of the criticism of the book emanates from blaming Fussell for doing what he clearly stated he was going to do in The Great War and Modern Memory. And though I'm not a noted scholar, I can enthusiastically agree with Jay Winter that this is a great book.

David Beer

We Are Making a New World

I found this interesting comment on Paul Nash's famous battlefield painting at the website of the American Historical Association.

In 1918, the English landscape painter and combat veteran Paul Nash unveiled a canvas depicting a pale sun rising above the lifeless and cratered landscape of the Western Front. The title of this work, “We Are Making a New World”, took a clear shot at the rhetoric that had been used to rally support for the war, but it also conveyed a more resonant message: the industrial capacity and technological expertise that had been organized and unleashed by the Great War heralded the advent of an age in which human beings might acquire the power to transform nature completely. The dream of transforming nature through science and technology had been an element in Western thought since at least the time of Francis Bacon, but now, for good or ill, that dream had the potential to become a reality. 

Richard Samuel Deese, Boston University

Second Act: The Potemkin in the First World War

Everyone has heard of the famous mutiny in 1905 aboard the Russian battleship Potemkin (or, more properly, Kniaz Potemkin Tavricheskii). Less well known is the fact that, after the ship returned to the Russian Navy, she was renamed Panteleimon (after an early Christian saint) and served throughout the First World War in the Black Sea Fleet.

During the war she earned the unusual distinction of being one of the few pre-dreadnought battleships ever to score a hit on a dreadnought in battle. On 10 May 1915, while the Russian fleet was bombarding the Turkish fortifications at the Bosphorus, the Panteleimon hit the German-built battlecruiser Goeben with two 12-inch shells. This was enough to convince the battlecruiser to break off the action.

Thanks to author Steve McLaughlin for these details.

Austria-Hungary Wanted to Invade Serbia — In 1913!

The ex-premier of Italy, Signor Giolitti, in a speech delivered in the Chamber of Deputies on 5 December 1914, revealed the fact that in 1913 Austria-Hungary had planned to attack Serbia. He said that on 9 August 1913 he had received the following telegram from Foreign Minister Marquis di San Giuliano:

Austria has communicated to us and to Germany her intention of taking action against Serbia, and defines such action is defensive, hoping to bring into operation the casus foederis of the Triple Alliance.

The Empire's Most Tireless Advocate of a Punitive War Against Serbia

He replied:

If Austria intervenes against Serbia, it is clear that a casus foederis cannot be established. It is a step which she is taking on her own account, since there is no question of defense, inasmuch as no one is thinking of attacking her.

The fact that the Treaty of Bucharest (the settlement of the Second Balkan War, which gave Serbia a massive increase in territory and population) was signed on the day following Giolitti's receipt of the telegram reveals Austria's motive as a desire to prevent Serbia from profiting by the conclusion of a highly advantageous treaty.

The telegram indicates that the assassination of the Archduke was the occasion rather than the cause of Austria's ultimatum to Serbia, and it reveals the reason for Austria's action in July 1914 in omitting to notify Italy in advance of her demands upon Serbia.

The authenticity of the telegram is established by the fact that the Austrian government has not denied it. Its contents are brought into relief by the statements of M. Pichon, ex-minister of foreign affairs of France. The Paris correspondent of Il Giornale d'Italia reported (29 December 1914) a conversation which he had with M. Pichon on the subject of Giolitti's disclosure. M. Pichon said that in June 1913, when he was minister of foreign affairs, at the time of the affair of Scutari, the Italian Government informed him that Austria had notified it of her intentions with regard to Serbia, and that the Italian government had replied that the casus foederis was not applicable.

Source: Anderson, Frank Maloy and Amos Shartle Hershey, Handbook for the Diplomatic History of Europe, Asia, and Africa 1870–1914. Prepared for the National Board for Historical Service. Government Printing Office, Washington, 1918.

Western Front Virtual Tour — Stop 20: Pals Battalions Memorials at Serre

During the Great War there were 404 service battalions and 153 reserve battalions formed in the New Army. Fifty-nine of these battalions are considered "Pals". To be included as one of these the unit should meet these criteria: (1) be affinity-based, at least at the time of formation, (2) be formed within the New Army, and (3) not continue in existence after 1919. As will be explained, there were units that met some but not all of these points. Many had their baptism of fire on 1 July 1916 and a number suffered heavy casualties. For instance, the Accrington Pals that attacked at Serre lost 584 were killed, wounded or missing of 720 men, who went over the top that day.

Thanks to regular contributor Jim Patton for these details.

Remembering a Veteran: Lieutenant Carl Hans Lody, German Naval Reserve — Spy

Carl Hans Lody (1877–1914) was a German naval officer and the first foreign spy to be executed in Britain for espionage during the First World War. Many of the men recruited by the Germans for intelligence operations were untrained and inept amateurs. Witness the case of Glossary, Carl Hans Lody, the first wartime German spy to be executed in Britain, in November 1914. Viewed even by his captors as a decent and patriotic man, Lody left a trail of clues from his intelligence-gathering operations in Britain during August and September and was arrested in Ireland on 2 October. Most of the information that he sent to his superiors — such as the telegram on 4 September describing how Russian troops had apparently been seen marching from Aberdeen to the south of England — was useless.

Lody admitted in court that he had been a spy and had been sent to Britain by his superiors in Berlin. He refused to name Fritz Prieger, the person who had recruited him: "that name I cannot say as I have given my word of honour".

Unlike spies captured later, Lody was tried in public and the case was widely reported in the press. His declarations of patriotism and honor attracted widespread admiration in both Britain and Germany. When he was convicted and taken to the Tower of London to be executed he was reported to have said to the officer who escorted him from his cell to the execution ground: "I suppose that you will not care to shake hands with a German spy". "No," the officer replied, "but I will shake hands with a brave man."

Lody was shot at the Tower of London on 6 November 1914.

Sources: British National Archives and MI-5 Website

U.S. Warships Lost to Enemy Action

Only two American warships were lost to enemy fire in the Great War:

Destroyer DD-61 Jacob Jones, sunk by German submarine U-53 off the Isles of Scilly, 6 Dec 1917. Jacob Jones went down in eight minutes, taking 64 men with her and was the first U.S. destroyer ever to be lost to enemy action. (article)

Armored Cruiser AC- 6 San Diego, formerly Pennsylvania, sunk by German U-156 off U.S. east coast 19 July 1918 with six killed. (article)

Please See Our Corrected Post for 19 May 2014

Greetings,

Yesterday our fact checking process had a serious breakdown in our article introducing our series of reviews of books on Conscientious Objectors.  I hope you will read the revised article below, I just hate the idea that we might be spreading misinformation on the Internet.  MH

We Will Not Fight: The Untold Story of the First World War's Conscientious Objectors — Reviewed by Jane Mattisson Ekstam

We Will Not Fight: The Untold Story of the First World War's Conscientious Objectors

by Will Ellsworth-Jones

Aurum, 2008

We Will Not Fight is the poignant story of 35 British conscientious objectors who were shipped to France by the British Army because they refused to fight. Who were these men? Why did they refuse to fight? And how were they viewed by their contemporaries? These questions form the basis of Ellsworth-Jones's thoughtful and compelling study.

COs in a Work Camp

Prompted by a newspaper article on the 35 conscientious objectors that appeared in the Daily Telegraph in May 1999, Will Ellsworth-Jones explores the motives and beliefs of conscientious objectors faced with the introduction of conscription by the Military Service Act on 27 January 1916. The heavy losses in the first two years of the war and the activities of the White Feather Brigade increased the pressure on conscientious objectors, who were regarded as both disloyal and cowardly. Ellsworth-Jones corrects this view by providing the background to the men's defiance and describing the horrendous conditions under which they were incarcerated. Theirs is a story of courage based on religious belief and unbending conviction. With the aid of diaries and letters, We Will Not Fight re-creates the personal story of British conscientious objection from 1916 to the end of the war.

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The focus is primarily on Bert Brocklesbury, a newly qualified school teacher. When asked by the Non Combatant Corps (an alternative to bearing weapons) if he had ever made any sacrifices for his opinions, Bert answered that he had worked for 18 years to help missionary enterprise. He realized that his interlocutors would neither understand nor accept his views or principles. Incarcerated first at Pontefract Barracks and subsequently at Richmond Castle before being sent to France, Bert was interrogated by a captain. Part of the interview, which clearly states Bert's position, is recorded in We Will Not Fight: 

"Why are you a conscientious objector?"

"Do you not think that those commands apply to individuals but not to the state?"

"They apply to both."

"Are you a Christian?"
"Yes."

'There are thousands of Christians in the war.'
'It's not my idea of being a Christian.'

For the remainder of the war, they were held prisoner in England. Bert Brocklesbury was fortunate in that he was one of the few who had the support of his family. His fiancée, however, broke off their engagement. After the war, Bert found it difficult to find a teaching job after having refused to fight. Turning to a missionary career instead, he found not only peace but also his future wife.

Memorials to COs at Tavistock Gardens, London

Bert's story is set in the context of recruitment policies in Britain and the general public disdain for conscientious objection, not least among women. Supplemented by photographs of the Brocklesbury family, Bert's brothers in uniform, groups of conscientious objectors doing hard labor, prison cells and newspaper clippings about conscientious objection, We Will Not Fight is both an historical and a personal story about one of the least understood features of World War One. It is also, as Ellsworth-Jones reminds us, a story that continues to reverberate to this day.

Jane Mattisson Ekstam