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1915: The Death of Innocence Paperback – April 21, 2000
By Christmas 1914, the wild wave of enthusiasm that had sent men flocking to join up a few months earlier began to tail off, and though the original British Expeditionary Force had suffered 90 percent casualties, most people, particularly the soldiers themselves, still believed that 1915 would see the breaking of the deadlock. But their hopes were shattered on the bloody battlefields of Neuve Chapelle, Ypres, Loos, and far away on the shores of Gallipoli.
Lyn Macdonald's story of 1915 is stark, brutal, frank, sometimes painfully funny, always human. Never before has any writer collected so many firsthand accounts of the experiences of ordinary soldiers, through diaries, letters, and interviews with survivors―and it is the dogged heroism and sardonic humor of the soldiers that shine through the pages of this epic narrative. 1915 is a uniquely compelling blend of military history and poignant memories of the fighters who survived the ordeal.
- Print length672 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherJohns Hopkins University Press
- Publication dateApril 21, 2000
- Reading age18 years and up
- Dimensions6.25 x 1.56 x 9.25 inches
- ISBN-100801864437
- ISBN-13978-0801864438
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Editorial Reviews
Review
By concentrating on the minutiae of life in the trenches―the daily battles with cold and damp, the endless scrounging for food, the frantic improvisation required to carry out impossible orders―Macdonald manages to convey the sheer craziness of the nightmare.
(Sunday Times (London))Macdonald's narrative, constructed around a succession of remarkable and fresh first-hand accounts, is both compelling and vivid.
(Times Literary Supplement)Macdonald's heart lies firmly with the common soldiers and junior officers who manned the trenches and followed the orders that all too often cost their lives... The reader feels at times that he is actually in the thick of the battle.
(Newsday)About the Author
Lyn Macdonald is a former BBC radio producer and the author of many books, including 1914; To the Last Man: Spring 1918; First Year of Fighting; and The Roses of No Man's Land.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Such belligerence as there was at present was largely directed by officers towards their own troops. Authority on both sides of the line had strongly disapproved of the Christmas spirit of goodwill that had brought the front-line soldiers of both sides out of their trenches to swap greetings and gifts, and the rebukes that had passed down the chain of command through discomfited Brigadiers, Colonels and Majors to the rank and file, had left them in no doubt that such a thing must not occur again. But it was good while it lasted.
Parcels had arrived by the trainload from Germany and by the boatload from England, from places as far apart as Falmouth and Flensburg, Ullapool and Ulm. So many trains were required to bring the flood of Christmas mail to France from the Fatherland that German transport and supply depots were seriously disrupted, and even officers at the front complained that crowded billets and narrow trenches were becoming dangerously congested, for goods and parcels were showered on the troops by legions of anonymous donors as well as by friends and families. In most German towns and villages committees had been formed to raise funds and send Christmas parcels, Weinachtspaketen, to the troops. The more sentimental called them 'love parcels' - Liebespaketen - and at least one recipient, fighting for the Kaiser in the comfortless trenches of the Argonne was struck by the irony of the name. He expressed his thoughts in a plaintive verse that appeared in one of the many columns of thank-you letters in a German newspaper whose readers had been particularly generous. 'So much love,' he sighed, 'and no girls to deliver it!' Even the Kaiser sent cigars - ten per man - in tasteful individual boxes inscribed 'Weinachten im Feld, 1914.'
The British soldiers had also received a royal gift (a useful metal box from Princess Mary, containing cigarettes, or pipe tobacco, or chocolate for non-smokers); they had plum puddings sent by the Daily Mail, chocolate from Cadbury, butterscotch from Callard & Bowser, gifts from the wives of officers of a dozen different regiments, and a mountain or private parcels bulging with homemade cake, sweetmeats, and comforts galore. There were more than enough to spare, and plenty to share with temporary friends over the way. The men drew the line at presenting an enemy soldier with socks of mufflers knitted by the home fireside, but kind donors in Britain, as in Germany, would have been astonished had they known how much plum pudding and Christmas cake would end up in Fritz's stomach, swapped for a lump of German sausage or a drop of beer or Rheinwein shared matily in No Man's Land." - from Chapter One
Product details
- Publisher : Johns Hopkins University Press; First Edition (April 21, 2000)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 672 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0801864437
- ISBN-13 : 978-0801864438
- Reading age : 18 years and up
- Item Weight : 2.1 pounds
- Dimensions : 6.25 x 1.56 x 9.25 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #750,362 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #165 in WWI Biographies
- #1,066 in World War I History (Books)
- #3,258 in Historical European Biographies (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
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Furthermore, personal accounts from individual soldiers who served where consistently given at just the right place, poignantly complimenting respective phases of the conflict. So much so, that again it was almost as though the reader was looking through a window, watching events unfold.
I'm on a roll. This was the second book that I have recently read from Lyn MacDonald, and I'm now hooked on a desire to read more. I know I will not be disappointed.
The book does not purport to be a comprehensive history of the war, nor even of the single year it chronicles. It covers only the British Army: the Royal Navy is mentioned only in conjunction with troop transport and landings, and the Royal Flying Corps scarcely at all. The forces of other countries, allied or enemy, are mentioned only in conjunction with their interaction with the British, and no attempt is made to describe the war from their perspective. Finally, the focus is almost entirely on the men in the trenches and their commanders in the field: there is little focus on the doings of politicians and the top military brass, nor on grand strategy, although there was little of that in evidence in the events of 1915 in any case.
Within its limited scope, however, the book succeeds superbly. About a third of the text is extended quotations from people who fought at the front, many from contemporary letters home. Not only do you get an excellent insight into how horrific conditions were in the field, but also how stoically those men accepted them, hardly ever questioning the rationale for the war or the judgement of those who commanded them. And this in the face of a human cost which is nearly impossible to grasp by the standards of present-day warfare. Between the western front and the disastrous campaign in Gallipoli, the British suffered more than half a million casualties (killed, wounded, and missing) (p. 597). In “quiet periods” when neither side was mounting attacks, simply manning their own trenches, British casualties averaged five thousand a week (p. 579), mostly from shelling and sniper fire.
And all of the British troops who endured these appalling conditions were volunteers—conscription did not begin in Britain until 1916. With the Regular Army having been largely wiped out in the battles of 1914, the trenches were increasingly filled with Territorial troops who volunteered for service in France, units from around the Empire: India, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, and as the year progressed, Kitchener's “New Army” of volunteer recruits rushed through training and thrown headlong into the killing machine. The mindset that motivated these volunteers and the conclusions drawn from their sacrifice set the stage for the even greater subsequent horrors of the twentieth century.
Why? Because they accepted as given that their lives were, in essence, the property of the state which governed the territory in which they happened to live, and that the rulers of that state, solely on the authority of having been elected by a small majority of the voters in an era when suffrage was far from universal, had every right to order them to kill or be killed by subjects of other states with which they had no personal quarrel. (The latter point was starkly illustrated when, at Christmas 1914, British and German troops declared an impromptu cease-fire, fraternised, and played football matches in no man's land before, the holiday behind them, returning to the trenches to resume killing one another for King and Kaiser.) This was a widely shared notion, but the first year of the Great War demonstrated that the populations of the countries on both sides really believed it, and would charge to almost certain death even after being told by Lord Kitchener himself on the parade ground, “that our attack was in the nature of a sacrifice to help the main offensive which was to be launched ‘elsewhere’ ” (p. 493). That individuals would accept their rôle as property of the state was a lesson which the all-encompassing states of the twentieth century, both tyrannical and more or less democratic, would take to heart, and would manifest itself not only in conscription and total war, but also in expropriation, confiscatory taxation, and arbitrary regulation of every aspect of subjects' lives. Once you accept that the state is within its rights to order you to charge massed machine guns with a rifle and bayonet, you're unlikely to quibble over lesser matters.
Further, the mobilisation of the economy under government direction for total war was taken as evidence that central planning of an industrial economy was not only feasible but more efficient than the market. Unfortunately, few observed that there is a big difference between consuming capital to build the means of destruction over a limited period of time and creating new wealth and products in a productive economy. And finally, governments learnt that control of mass media could mould the beliefs of their subjects as the rulers wished: the comical Fritz with which British troops fraternised at Christmas 1914 had become the detested Boche whose trenches they shelled continuously on Christmas Day a year later (p. 588).
It is these disastrous “lessons” drawn from the tragedy of World War I which, I suspect, charted the tragic course of the balance of the twentieth century and the early years of the twenty-first. Even a year before the outbreak of World War I, almost nobody imagined such a thing was possible, or that it would have the consequences it did. One wonders what will be the equivalent defining event of the twenty-first century, when it will happen, and in what direction it will set the course of history?
Thank you Lyn.


