At the dawn of the twenty-first century, the Great War stands at the furthest edge of living memory. There are a handful of men alive who fought in the trenches of the Somme and Flanders. Within their own lifetimes, their memories have become epic history. Hardly a month passes without some dramatic and sometimes tragic discovery being made along the killing fields of the Western Front. Poignant remains of British soldiers buried during battle and then forgotten - lying in rows arm in arm, or found crouching at the entrance to a dugout. Whole 'underground cities' of trenches, dugouts, and shelters, preserved in the mud of Flanders - with newspapers and blankets scattered where they were left. There are field hospitals carved out of the chalk country of the Somme, tunnels marked with graffiti by long dead hands, and tons of volatile bombs and gas canisters waiting to explode. Yet, while there are innumerable books on the history of the war, there is not a single book on its archaeology. Nicholas J. Saunders' new book is therefore unique. In an authoritative and accessible way, it would bring together widely scattered discoveries, and offer fresh insights into the human dimension of the war.
Nicholas J. Saunders is the world’s leading authority on the anthropological archaeology of the First world war. A lecturer in the department of Archaeology and Anthropology at the University of Bristol, he undertook the first-ever study of Great war material culture as a British Academy Senior Research Fellow at University College London between 1998 and 2004. His exhibition of trench art from the war was for five years a centrepiece of the In Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres, Belgium. He has published more than twenty-five books, including Trench Art, Killing Time, Alexander’s Tomb and Matters of Conflict, and has appeared in documentaries for the BBC, the National Geographic Channel and the History Channel. He co-directs two major Great war archaeological projects, in Jordan and Slovenia, and lives in west Sussex.
We talk about the archaeology of the First World War all the time, all the more so now during the years of its centenary, and yet we rarely talk or think about it as archaeology. Barely a week or month goes by without some story of remnants of the War emerging from the soil of France and Belgium - unexploded ordinance, remains of soldiers, shell casings, helmets and boots and personal belongings. And yet what is the investigation and recovery of these things from the earth if not archaeology?
We tend not to think of recent history as worthy of archaeology. Archaeological digs look for ancient history, Egyptian tombs and medieval villages and so on, history unrecoverable by any other means. The First World War is so well-documented, in military records and newspaper articles, diaries and poetry and memoirs, war memorials and ceremonies, interviews and television documentaries, that for many years there was little thought of what the earth could tell us. What was there to find out that we didn't already know?
And yet as Nicholas Saunders points out in this book, history is more than just what we can learn from the pages of books and papers. Hands-on archaeological digs can lend a new perspective on the written history; an opportunity to rediscover trenches, to remap the layout of a battlefield, to discover new burial sites and long-forgotten bunkers and redoubts. Very often this kind of battlefield or conflict archaeology, as he calls it, overlaps with anthropology, and gives us fresh insight into the way soldiers, medical personnel, civilians all interacted with this landscape, both during and after the war.
I found the chapter on trench art particularly interesting - the way so many individuals from soldiers and prisoners-of-war, farmers and budding entrepreneurs catering to the post-war tourist trade, used the detritus of war to create artwork - making vases from shell casings, crucifixes from bullets, matchbox covers from scrap metal. The human impulse to create beauty from destruction is fascinating, both from a cultural and anthropological point of view.
War tourism has driven a lot of this new interest in recovering the War from the mud of Belgium and France - that desire to see a place with one's own eyes, to stand where something momentous happened, to walk along a real trench. It started in the years almost immediately after the War, with grieving wives and mothers and sisters wanting to visit the places where their men fell, and it has only grown since then. I myself went on a school trip to Flanders, where we visited many of the places mentioned in this book, and it does make it all somehow more real, less distant.
It is probably no coincidence too that the push to formalise archaeological digs and shift the emphasis away from amateur diggers and those looking for souvenirs to sell, only really started taking off once the veterans of the War began to die. We never consider events taking place in our own lifetimes as history - history is what happens before we are born. There is no-one left now to whom the First World War happened as a personal event, it has receded into the mists of history - and archaeology is now seen as a vital tool in recovering it. This book was one of the first to consider the War from an archaeological perspective, but it will almost certainly not be the last.
I loved this. I’m an archaeology student who has previously disregarded the importance of excavating and recording 20th century conflict and I’ve leaned my lesson.
This is a text book, but the writing style is so engaging you’d almost forget. Clearly referenced, with wonderful images (I didn’t fail to notice how many pieces there are in the Author’s collection - his passion shines through)
The examples and analysis of trench art both portable and made/left on situ was eye opening and really moving.
This book has stimulated a big interest in WW1 archaeology and history in this reader, which surely makes it a total success