Even as the epic Battle of the Somme in the second half of 1916 was winding down and Britain began tallying its incomprehensible 420,000 casualties from what would seem to be a Pyrrhic victory, the press continued feeding the British public propaganda balm. A reporter for the London Daily Mirror, observing a dead British soldier in the field, wrote, rather perplexingly: "Even as he lies on the field he looks more quietly faithful, more simply steadfast than others." Even in death, it seems, a Britisher never lost that stiff upper lip and his saintliness compared to the corpses of the enemy. A very much living British officer on the front, reading that account, expressed his disdain for such tosh in a letter home: "He has drawn well on his imagination, as half of it is not true, but just what he thought it would be like."
Like the American Civil War, the First World War was a war written about in letters, diaries and, perhaps even more fulsomely, poetry. Sir Martin Gilbert in his ambitious kaleidoscopic tapestry of this mammoth war has quoted quite a bit of this writing liberally, and well, in humanizing a war that often devolves into discussions of mere political and military strategy. The book touts itself as a "complete history" of the war, an impossible claim to make even if it spanned multiple volumes rather than one. But as a one-volume work, I can't imagine a more complete account being possible. The book tries to cover so many incidents, so many centers of interest, so many participants, on the ground and in the ivory towers of power, that it can get a bit disorienting. The whole thing feels like a moving target; nothing is lingered over, and Gilbert is on to the next thing. One paragraph may be talking about the Marne on the Western Front in France and in the next two graphs he whisks you off to the Congo in Africa or off to the Dardanelles and Gallipoli in Turkey. At first, this can feel a bit overwhelming, as if Gilbert wrote the entire thing on index cards and strung them together on an endless row of tape and had a secretary transcribe the entire shebang in linear, chronological order. As it moves along, though, this strategy pays off, building in power and gravitas as one's understanding increases. By the end, I realized what a triumph Gilbert had achieved.
World War I is still shocking, even considering the many horrors that followed in the next hundred years, and including the Second World War that this war set the stage for. It's almost impossible to imagine anyone surviving any of this: the shells, the poison gas, the filthy conditions of the trenches, the over-the-top suicidal charges into rapid-fire weapons. Gilbert does a tremendous job providing a vast picture of an insanely complex conflict, one that even the most informed historians still struggle to explain.
Although this is largely a linear collection of incidents, Gilbert sometimes moves outside of the timeline in poetic ways, to suggest the lingering memory of the conflict. This passage is a prime example:
"Yet for every victorious headline there was a sombre subtext. Four days before the offensive was renewed, the Newfoundland officer Hedley Goodyear, who had led his men in the attack on August 8, wrote to his mother: ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m Hun-proof.’ He was killed by a sniper between Lihons and Chaulnes. His photograph, showing him in uniform, stood on his fiancée’s mantelpiece for the next fifty years."
Yeah, that's heartbreaking.
I think I came up with a couple of new heroes from this book, the British soldier-poet Wilfred Owen, whose verses pretty much kicked the ass the other other well-meaning, but maudlin, efforts of the other soldier poets quoted here, and Edith Cavell, a nurse shot by the Germans, who vowed to treat any battlefield casualty regardless of nationality.
Interestingly, British Prime Minister David Lloyd-George rather ominously suggested future war if German reparations were too harsh. As he wrote in a famous memorandum at the end of the war: "...the maintenance of peace will depend upon there being no causes of exasperation constantly stirring up either the spirit of patriotism, of justice, or of fair play, to achieve redress..."
Boy, did he nail that one.
The deal is this. The book is jam-packed with facts, possibly too many for easy digestion. It's neither dryly analytical/academic, nor novelistic in the grand way, like a Beevor or a Toland -- not terribly scintillating as prose. It sticks to events, large and small, and largely eschews overarching analysis of causes and strategies of the kind found in, say, John Keegan's book on the war (see my recent review of that). That said, the book is pretty awesome, if you can handle it and stick with it. Reading this, I learned a hell of a lot, and have a much deeper understanding of World War I, a conflict, that, somewhat regrettably, it has taken me too long to finally dive into. Now I feel like I'm on solid ground for more.
Is this a five-star book? Probably not. Four stars is probably more accurate, simply for the dryness and episodic approach, but the cumulative effect of the book was too impressive, and as a single source on the war, it's pretty essential.
KR@KY 2021