Brushes & Bayonets on the BBC!

It is nice when a book that you really believe in begins to take off. I’m sure some of you remember me raving about Brushes and Bayonets on the blog a few months ago. It is a selection of 250 World War I images from the archives of the Illustrated London News, arranged thematically by the author, Lucinda Gosling. It is a new and really unique way of looking at the First World War.

It doesn’t hurt that it is also a stunning book, which would add a touch of class to anyone’s coffee table. The book publishes this week, and today the BBC website is featuring an article by the author about WWI illustrations and showcasing some of the fabulous images from the book.

Counterinsurgency in Modern Warfare

Apologies if this reads a little like a proud parent showing off a small child’s new trick, but I think it’s warranted! Last week the advance copies for Counterinsurgency in Modern Warfare arrived in the office. This book publishes in April, and I was very keen to get my hands on an actual copy and check that it had pulled through the occasionally traumatic publishing process intact. And I’m pleased to report that it has, it looks great and it has some wonderful pre-publication reviews from some very well-respected gentlemen on the cover.

Insurgency and counterinsurgency are very much buzz words in the media at the moment, especially in reference to Iraq and Afghanistan. Given their work with the British and US armies respectively, I do feel that the two academic editors, Daniel Marston and Carter Malkasian, are uniquely placed to put together this collection of all-new essays covering counterinsurgency over the last century, with each author not only discussing a different insurgency and counterinsurgency, but evaluating how the counterinsurgency campaign was shaped, or not, by previous conflicts, and what they in turn contributed to the development of strategies and tactics over the year. I have to admit to finding it far more fascinating that I originally expected, and having thoroughly enjoyed reading it through three times…

Daniel and Carter worked very hard to get great authors working on the book, to evaluate and check all the chapters over, and of course  to write their own chapters, on Afghanistan and Iraq respectively, particularly impressive given both men have spent quite a lot of the last few months in sandy places. The authors are a great bunch, and include other men who have first-hand experience of this type of warfare, including Colonel Richard Iron, who write on Northern Ireland 1967–2007, having spent several tours there, and Lieutenant Colonel John Nagl, who contributed a chapter on Vietnam. It has been a great experience for me to work with such an interesting group of contributors, and I do hope they are as pleased with the result as I am! 

Playing at War

Further to Richard’s posts about military history being in fashion, or not, and the comments about teaching of military history in schools, the other day I saw something which I thought might be perfect for getting a younger, computer savvy generation interested in military history and world events. Intrigued by a comment on Esther MacCullum-Stewart’s fabulous website Break of Day in the Trenches, I went to the website of the a new computer game Making History.

This is a great game where you can run different WWII scenarios. An article on Wired discusses a well-known counterfactual historian using the game to test his theory that WWII could have been prevented if Britain had confronted Germany over the invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1938. His recreated Britain was crushed by Germany, but his teenage son then played the same scenario and came out on top by setting up trade agreements with France which forced them to support Britain and led to victory over Germany! Obviously this is just a simulation, though based on lots of research, I can see how this kind of ‘playing with history’ could really engage teenagers to think strategically, to consider how historical ‘fact’ was not inevitable at the time, and how things might have happened differently.

I think I may be buying a copy of Making History when it comes out to see what I can make of WWII, but before I do, maybe I shall move Fateful Choices from my fantasy reading list into my Amazon shopping basket to help me a little. I’ve been a fan of Sir Ian Kershaw’s work for years, and in his new book, he works closely with primary material to analyse ten decisions from 1940–41, including Hitler’s invasion of Russia, Roosevelt opting to aid Britain and Japan choosing war with the United States, and the consequences of each decision, all of which "served to turn several different conflicts into one truly global conflagration." Kershaw’s book is not counterfactual, but maybe if people become hooked on history by challenging what might have been in Making History, they will be inspired to turn to the masters to learn more about why what did happen, did.

People's stories bring history to life for me

This Friday afternoon I'm (alongside eating biscuits, of course) working on a book we're publishing next summer, a new English translation of a memoir by Moritz Nachtstern, a Norwegian Jew who survived the Holocaust because of his skills as a typographer which led to his involvement in Operation Bernhard.

Ours will be the first English edition of this book. A lovely woman called Margrit Rosenberg Stenge has been painstakingly translating it for us, and a few months ago I asked her for a few biographical details to use in our publicity material, as normal. She sent me a modest few sentences, and then said that if I were interested to read more, a fuller version of her story was available online. I was intrigued and went to take a look. Well, a look just wasn’t enough, and I spent the next half an hour glued to it, wanting to read the whole thing. I thought it was so good that I shared it with the office, and now I'd like to share it with you. You can find it here.

I think her story is amazing, and it adds another dimension to know that she is now busy making the stories of others available to a new audience. Stories, first-hand accounts and anecdotes always bring history alive for me, and they stick in my memory when facts and figures have all but faded away. For this reason, I’m excited that we are publishing this book, and hope that other people will gain as much from reading Moritz’s and Margrit’s stories as I have.

Anyone for weevils?

Most Friday afternoons will see the editorial department struggling through our remaining tasks for the week whilst stuffing our faces with sugary treats. It's a bit of a tradition really, usually someone comes back from their lunch break and deposits a packet of biscuits or sweets on top of the bookcase in the middle of the department, and by the end of the day, it's all gone, and we all feel a little guilty, and like we need to go running... which got me to thinking about biscuits through the ages, well the mind does easily wander at 3pm on a Friday. I remember as a child being taught about ships and sailors in the good old days, with their rickets and scurvy, and always being confused by the description of the ubiquitious sea biscuit, or hard tack. Biscuits have always been a nice treat, sweet-tasting, many varieties, the perfect accompaniment to tea, or squash; so giving the name 'biscuit' to such a horrid-sounding food-type was a bit beyond me, and that was even before the teacher explained weevils! Anyway for those of you wanting some inspiration for an afternoon snack, here's a sea biscuit recipe (sadly without the weevils) from the website of the Mariners' Museum. Personally I'm going to stick to the Hobnobs currently gracing the bookcase!

When there’s a war going on, the last thing you need is watered down alcohol…

Watching British TV quiz show QI last week, there was a question about a Defence of the Realm Act, which was passed in Britain in August 1914 and gave the government wide-ranging powers during the war period. I was very excited because I actually knew one of the answers (not a regular occurrence!). This was because the act, or more particularly, the licensing laws it introduced, was mentioned in a book I’ve been working on, Military Misdemeanours, which looks at military mishaps and scandals of history. The story in which it is mentioned is actually about the introduction of cocaine to Britain during WWI by Canadian soldiers, but anyway... ;-)

In fact at first glance, many of the provisions of the act look rather odd: there was to be no flying of kites, no feeding of wild animals, and alcoholic drinks were watered down (and you could now only drink in a pub or bar for two and half hours at lunchtime and three hours in the evening rather than any time between 5.30 am and midnight as previously). Whilst I’m sure there were good reasons behind all of these, I can only imagine how bemused and irritated most people must have been when they first heard about it. I’m sure one of the most confusing new rules was the introduction of British Summer Time for the first time. I don’t need to imagine the confusion it would have caused – I have missed enough appointments to know about that one!

However, did you know that in WWII, they had Double British Summer Time? The country went onto British Summer Time permanently throughout the war, and in the summers, went forward a further hour, to Double British Summertime. Then after the war it all got shifted back. This was all to ensure the daylight hours were used as efficiently as possible, but I can’t help but wonder how many hours of work were lost because people had just given up trying to tell the time? I just know I would have been utterly confused and no help at all to the war effort, so I’m thankful that when I, again, forget to change the clocks, the only consequence is that I’m unfashionably late for lunch!

Bairnsfather, Brushes, Bullets, Bayonets and Billets!

I was interested to note some of the comments on Joe’s blog which expressed hope that Bruce Bairnsfather’s work would be collected and published in a similar way to that of Bill Maudlin's. Well… we aren’t publishing a book just on Bairnsfather, but he will feature largely in our book, Brushes and Bayonets: Cartoons, Sketches and Paintings of World War I, which publishes in 2008. Written by Luci Gosling, it will collect 250 illustrations from the Illustrated London News Archive, showcasing a variety of artists: alongside Bairnsfather are W. Heath Robinson, Fortunino Matania, Raphael Kirchner, and even an early appearance by Mabel Lucie Atwell! Luci has carefully selected images that cover a variety of themes, but also show the wide range of styles included in the newspapers and magazines of the time.

To tide you over until publication (!), you can take a look at Bairnsfather’s own wonderful book of 1916, Bullets & Billets, full of sketches and cartoons, now available for everyone to enjoy at the Gutenberg Project. The book begins with a foreword:

Down South, in the Valley of the Somme, far from the spots recorded in this book, I began to write this story.

In billets it was. I strolled across the old farmyard and into the wood beyond. Sitting by a gurgling little stream, I began, with the aid of a notebook and a pencil, to record the joys and sorrows of my first six months in France.

I do not claim any unique quality for these experiences. Many thousands have had the same. I have merely, by request, made a record of my times out there, in the way that they appeared to me.

He was right, his experiences were not unique, and neither was his way of recording them, sketching was quite common among soldiers trying to relieve the monotony of the trenches, and attempting to capture and explain their surroundings and their life for family and friends. Some of them, like Bairnsfather, then submitted their drawings to papers back home. Yet among the many wonderful artists that came out of the horror of the war, he still shines, because his characters, like Old Bill, are just so very human. Reading his autobiographical account, it is interesting to see how his drawings do convey his sense of humour, and his fixation with strawberry jam…!

Below are a couple of images from the book, just to give you a taste of what will be included. The first is a cover drawn for The Bystander by Bruce Bairnsfather (The Illustrated London News Picture Library). The second is an illustration by Archibald Wells for the front cover of The Sketch Christmas Number 1914, which shows a British officer, billowing a Union Jack patriotically in his wake, escorting two stylish ladies. Appearances suggest that the two women may be symbols of Britain’s French and Russian allies, bringing a suitably cosmopolitan flavour to a festive issue. Christmas issues of all the archive’s magazines were lavish affairs, often in colour and each vying to out-do each other. This is a typical example of an early wartime cover, typically upbeat and jaunty, while the soldier, a girl on each arm, reaps the rewards of his service with feminine attention (The Illustrated London News Picture Library).

Is this beauty just in the eye of the beholder?

As an editor of illustrated military history books, I’ve looked through, selected, captioned and arranged a lot more photos of military themes than most (though probably not as many as some of you have). Often authors have a very definite idea of what they want to illustrate their text, and I have to search for a specific item, view or depiction. I do however pride myself on having a fairly good ‘eye’, and if possible I try to get a balanced, attractive selection of images. This can be quite tricky at times, but I am often pleasantly surprised, even delighted at the sheer beauty of some of the images I gather on my travels. Now don’t get me wrong, I know that most of the artefacts we depict are either highly designed to cause massive, efficient devastation, or to protect their wearer or owner from the injury and death the enemy aims to deal them. Despite this, often because of the design that has gone into them, many are strangely, sometimes grimly or beguilingly, beautiful. This can be in the shape, silhouette, the detail, or the effect of massed items.

There are the obvious ones like the Battersea shield, or the detail on a Greenwich garniture; but also the effect of a defensive installation seen from the air, like these WWI trenches, or the eerie grace of an amphibious landing when seen from above, the hynoptic pattern of empty shell cases or even the otherworldly shape of a B2.

So am I deluding myself to stay sane while searching for yet more images of post-modification submarines, samurai armour variants and unblemished examples of a particularly rare helmet in colour? Or is there beauty in military hardware? Can arms and armour be art?