Another Kilmer Poem - for Memorial Day

A few days ago I included Thanksgiving, a little poem by Joyce Kilmer, in another of my posts. It’s one of those poems that challenges us to rethink our understanding of the events and influences that can dominate the times of our lives. It also asks us to accept that nothing is simply coincidental, that God can bring good out of everything, even that which from an objective, human perspective can seem downright evil. I’ve always believed that as he wrote Thanksgiving, Kilmer might well have been thinking of St. Paul’s famous words to the Romans:

“We know that in everything God works for good with those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose” [Rom 8:28].

Kilmer certainly believed this, and realized God is always in control despite our foolish attempts to subvert His plan for humanity. Everything is a gift for those who love the Lord, even though we don’t understand how God will bring good from it. Believing this, we must then thank God for everything. 

The poet was also “called according to His purpose” in both his life and his death. Perhaps most fittingly, Kilmer wrote this poem from the trenches of World War One. Immersed in the chaotic horror of that war, Sergeant Kilmer faced death and destruction daily. He was highly respected by both the troops and the officers of his battalion. Sadly, Kilmer died in that war, killed instantly by a German sniper on July 30,1918. And yet, although an enlisted man, he was buried next to the officers with whom he served, a most unusual honor in those days. But in truth it was more of an honor for the officers than for Kilmer.

Anyway, all this thinking and writing about Joyce Kilmer, brought to mind another of his brief poems that I read years ago. I’d forgotten the name of the poem, so I had to do a little searching, and finally found it. I had mistakenly remembered its title as “Princes,” but it turned out to be “Kings.” I thought it particularly relevant for our world today, especially Kilmer’s description of the perversion of power. Yes, indeed, the “Kings of the earth” will be so very surprised when in their powerlessness they are called to account by the Prince of Peace. Here’s the poem:

                       Kings

The Kings of the earth are men of might,

And cities are burned for their delight,

And the skies rain death in the silent night,

And the hills belch death all day!

But the King of Heaven, Who made them all,

Is fair and gentle, and very small;

He lies in the straw, by the oxen's stall -- 

Let them think of Him to-day!

It’s evident why so many critics disliked Kilmer. He was simply too simple. He wrote for everyone, unlike so many poets who wrote only for each other and for the literati who could get them published in all the right journals. Kilmer also didn’t disguise his Christianity which he displayed prominently in so much of his work. No doubt this was a major irritant to the faithless denizens of New York’s literary circles. 

Of course, as simple as I am, I’ve always enjoyed his poetry. Some of this appreciation for Kilmer might stem from a few rather vague connections. I was brought up in Larchmont, a suburb of New York City, a village where Kilmer also lived for a time. Of course, he died long before I was born, and 30 years before we moved to Larchmont, but we were both parishioners of St. Augustine Parish. Because of this parish connection, he was somewhat of a local celebrity and the Dominican sisters who taught in the parish school introduced us to his poetry early, in the fifth or sixth grade. My parents were also friends with an older woman, who had known Kilmer as a young man. Apparently, her family had lived next door to Kilmer. She spoke about him often and waxed eloquently about the “handsome, young poet.” So, I suppose I was primed to like him and his work, but I think that’s true of most of our earliest influences. 

Today though, on this Memorial Day, we can pray that the "Kings of the earth" will someday actually approach the Prince of Peace on their knees in repentance. But in the meantime, I am called to remember and thank God for so many of my friends and comrades who sacrificed their lives for you and for me and for generations to come. Because of my own involvement, I especially thank God for those who died during the Vietnam conflict. But I also thank God for those who died in so many other conflicts, including Sergeant Joyce Kilmer, another hero who served a nation and its people and selflessly sacrificed his life for us. 

May Almighty God bless them all and keep them.

May His face shine upon them and be gracious to them.

May He look upon them with kindness and give them peace.

May Almighty God bless them, 

   in the name of the Father,

   and of the Son,

   and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

God and Politics

I'm tired. I'm tired of the arguments, tired of defending the truth to people who should know better. Sometimes I just want to crawl into my tent, close the flap, and get away from it all. 

For example, the other day after Mass, a parishioner approached and, I guess, challenged me. I don't know why he came to me, but for some reason I was his target of opportunity.

"Religion and politics don't mix," he told me. "The Church should stay away from politics, and politicians should stay clear of religion." 

He had thrown down the gauntlet and I should have addressed the many errors in his statement, but the thought of another long argument...as I said, I'm tired. My reply? "I'm sure many people agree with you, but I'm not one of them. Maybe we can talk about it later, when I have the time." With that I turned and entered the safety of the sacristy, my tent.

As I removed my vestments I couldn't help but recall the words of St. Paul, who seems to delight in reminding me of my weaknesses:

"Do not grow slack in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer" [Rom 12:11-12].

In other words, "Keep going, pal. If you're not tired, you're probably not doing what you're called to do." And so I resolved to talk with that parishioner the next chance I get. 

Politics, of course, is just one of many human activities. It involves the how and why of governance, the practice of directing the affairs of human society, particularly public policy. 

Religion involves man's relationship with God, the Creator of all. And since that relationship must involve every aspect of human life, neither politics nor any other human activity can be divorced from religion. 

Some, of course, will wrongly argue that our Constitution's First Amendment is designed to do just that, to separate religion from politics. But that's not its intent. It merely tells citizens (and politicians) that the state may not favor one religious group over others by establishing a state religion. It also tells the state that it cannot prohibit its citizens from freely exercising their religious beliefs. Those who drafted our Constitution recognized the pervasive and beneficial role religion plays in regulating human activity, and sought to protect religion from those who would place unjust limitations on it.

Anyway, in the strange way my mind works, this got me thinking about World War One, and that brought to mind my Uncle Bill. He was my mother's half-brother -- I guess that makes him my half-uncle -- and was a Navy veteran of World War One. We will "celebrate" the 100th anniversary of that war's conclusion at 11 a.m. on November 11. The irony, of course, is that this "war to end all wars" and its aftermath brought us the even more devastating World War Two and all the other wars that followed. 

[By the way, if you're interested in a fascinating book about the end of World War One and the deadly and pointless fighting that continued right up to the final minute on that first Armistice Day, read Joseph Persico's fascinating book, Eleventh Month, Eleventh Day, Eleventh Hour.]

I was just a teenager when Uncle Bill died, but I remember him talking about WWI and his pride in having served. On one of our visits I recall him saying something to the effect that, "But the politicians sure made a mess of things afterwards. Maybe if they'd been more Christian…" And with those words, Uncle Bill beautifully summed up the mess the politicians made of the 20th century.  

"...if they'd been more Christian…" We suffer today because human powers decided to remove God from the political decisions that formed our modern world. God's Word was ruled out 100 years ago at Versailles. Instead of forgiveness, the ruling word was "revenge." The victors sought retaliation and reparations at any cost, and the world paid a high price indeed. The desperation of the Central Powers also sent Lenin's train to Russia, an act that ultimately cost far more innocent lives than the war itself.

I am not a pacifist. I accept that nations have a right to defend themselves from those who would attack them. I am well aware that sometimes just action can include the waging of war in order to prevent even greater evil. But when men try to repair a broken world by forgetting God and following only man's faulty wisdom, more brokenness inevitably follows.

But how many politicians actually take the Sermon on the Mount seriously? How many of us...?

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you" [Mt 5:43-44]. 

I know of no nation that has integrated this mandate of Jesus into its foreign policy. Is that what Jesus wants? Can we 
love our enemies and still defend ourselves from them? Yes, I believe so. But loving them still places demands on us, the kind of demands ignored by the victors at Versailles. And note Jesus' other command: "...pray for those who persecute you." In other words, at some point we must bring God into the picture, for that's what prayer is intended to do.

We cannot expel God from politics, war, economics, or any other human activity. He simply won't let us, and will insert Himself as He wills. He is, after all, the Lord of History. But to include Him in all we do as a nation involves far more than an annual prayer breakfast at the Capitol or the occasional speech-ending "God Bless America."  No, it means struggling to be imitators of God, to live up to our creation in His image and likeness, to strive to do what is impossible for man.

"Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect."

Jesus concludes His teaching on loving our enemies with a  command impossible to obey, at least on our own: 

"So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect" [Mt 5:48].

To strive for this perfection that God desires of us means we must turn to Him in all things, and that even includes politics. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to vote for a politician who was striving for the perfection of our heavenly Father?

A Prophecy

One look at the titles in my home library and you would notice, with a few exceptions, most of the fiction was written by writers who are no longer with us. The exceptions include such novelists as Mark Helprin, Gene Wolfe, Dean Koontz, V. S. Naipaul, Michael D. O'Brien, and a few others. I enjoy the work of authors who write well, who accept the reality of objective truth, and who believe in what T. S. Eliot called the "permanent things" that make us human beings what we are and lead us to what we are destined to become. You will find few atheists or relativists among the novelists residing in my modest library. I hear enough from them in the popular media.

Jane Austen and The Cottage in Chawton, Hampshire

I've written often of my fondness for that early nineteenth-century moral theologian, Jane Austen, a woman so unlike those dark, brooding Brontes. And I continue to enjoy and reread the work of Charles Dickens, Herman Melville, and Anthony Trollope. In truth, these days I don't read Trollope but instead listen to him during my early morning walks, thanks to the good folks at audible.com and the Apple engineers who made my iPhone. Trollope is really quite listenable. And then there are the writers whose stories and novels make me laugh again and again, authors like P. G. Wodehouse (1881-1975) and H. H. Munro (aka, Saki, 1870-1916). I've also come to enjoy the somewhat strange novels of the late Alice Thomas Ellis (1932-2005) and the ghostly stories of Russell Kirk (1918-1994). I remember my surprise when I learned that Kirk, one of the intellectual fathers of the American conservative movement, also wrote these wonderfully spooky tales. 

A Young Mackenzie

All of this talk of authors and books has brought me to Compton Mackenzie (1883-1972), another writer in whose works I delight. I first encountered him about 30 years ago when I picked up a used copy of his farcical novel, The Monarch of the Glen, a book I thoroughly enjoyed. Since then I've probably read a dozen of his novels. But one day, while browsing in the aisles of my favorite Cape Cod bookstore -- Parnassus Books -- I picked up a copy of Volume 3 of Mackenzie's My Life and Times. I soon discovered that his autobiography was a massive work, filling ten volumes -- yes, that's right, ten! Each volume covers an "octave," eight years of this man's remarkable life. 

Since reading that third "octave", I have searched for and purchased the other nine volumes and, believe me, few lives are more interesting than Mackenzie's. He knew everyone from Kaiser Wilhelm to Winston Churchill, from T. E. Lawrence to D. H. Lawrence, from William Faulkner to Lawrence Olivier. The child of a theatrical family, Mackenzie graduated from Oxford, was a lifelong Scottish nationalist, converted to Catholicism, and developed a deep distrust of invasive government. He also liked cats, a odd trait which I can overlook.

Last evening, while reading Volume 8, which covers the war years (1939 to 1946), I came across something Mackenzie had written late in 1940. This was a most difficult time for the British. In 1939 Stalin and Hitler had signed the Molotov-Ribbentrop non-aggression pact, an agreement conceived in hell, one that would last until broken by Hitler in mid-1941. It would be well over a year before the United States entered the war after the Pearl Harbor attack in December 1941. At the time Mackenzie was writing, Britain stood virtually alone against the most powerful army the world had ever seen. And that army had just blitz-krieged its way through France and the Low Countries forcing the British troops and a contingent of allied forces to evacuate at Dunkirk. Were it not an island nation, Britain too would have fallen, probably quickly.

Mackenzie's comments were published as the forward to a volume designed to raise money for a charity called the War Orphans Fund. Given that they were written almost 80 years ago, in the early years of World War Two, they are both insightful and prophetic. I have included some excerpts here.

"If would be more comfortable to believe that this great war was merely the result of the last Great War. We might then feel fairly certain of achieving a real peace, for we have learnt a lesson and are in the mood to benefit by it. If this war is part of an evolutionary struggle, whatever the result we cannot hope to see the world securely re-established, because our victory must in time be challenged again but our defeat would be final, at any rate for too long a period to make speculation worth while. 

"I believe that we may soon be witnessing the death agony of that habit of thought and system of economy which is too loosely called capitalism, too loosely as it seems to me because it overstresses the economic aspect and I am not a dialectical materialist who can accept Marx's theory that man's circumstance is entirely determined by this. I regard our period as the beginning of the reaction against the trend that was given to Western development by the Renaissance and the Reformation and the discovery of America, which led to an exaggerated conception of the rights of the individual and an insufficient appreciation of his duties. The process has been accelerated by the abuse of mechanical progress from printing to flying, by the corruption of the ideal of popular education, by the substitution of humanitarian theory for religious practice, by the continually growing power of money, and by the encouragement of an illusory freedom of thought at the cost of real freedom of action. The result has been that never in recorded history was the ordinary man so completely at the mercy of his environment as he is today. The liberty that seemed within his grasp at the beginning of the fifteenth century is now farther away than ever, and is likely to recede still farther as long as man elects to be the slave of self rather than the servant of God."

At this point Mackenzie refers to a drawing of the Holy Family fleeing into Egypt and writes:

"They too were refugees...but they are refugees at this moment. What that Holy Family stood for mankind is even now being driven more brutally into the desert by material progress than ever by Herod's violence...

"After the Great War of 1914-1918 people sat back and declared that another great war would mean the end of civilization. Pamphlets were published to warn the world what appalling weapons and poisons would obliterate humanity. Pacifism was feverishly preached on the text that war was too horrible; its missionaries forgot that only experience teaches and that a younger generation would be excited but not warned by books like All Quiet on the Western Front. Meanwhile for two fatal decades audiences sought a deliberate thrill from gangster films and plays and readers procured themselves a kick from tough novels.

"And then suddenly in September 1938 audiences and readers woke up to the fact that the thrills and kicks they had been administering to themselves, thrills and kicks more pernicious to moral stamina than any hashish or cocaine could supply, were expressions of such a zeitgeist as not even the far-sighted Goethe discerned upon the wing...

"In one last desperate effort to travel out of the respectable past into the disreputable present Neville Chamberlain flew to Berchtesgaden to allay the whispers of politicians who had betrayed their country out of laziness because it was easier not to disturb an electorate with warnings of a storm which after all might not break. To politicians willing to betray their country out of laziness it did not seem a grave offense to betray what Mr. Chamberlain called a 'remote country' like Czechoslovakia out of cowardice. Not that such cowardice was not immediately justified, let it be quickly said; war was impossible for Britain and France. Neither was ready..."

Neville Chamberlain and Adolph Hitler in Munich

Mackenzie goes on to address the muddled thinking of both the Left and the Right in the years leading up to the war, and then writes the following:

"The seat of the trouble was that confused thinking which led to the failure to recognize that Fascism and National Socialism were only different expressions of the same basic evolutionary drive as inspired Communism. Black ants or red ants, they are both ants. The initials of Liberté, Egalité and Fraternité provide the first three letters for the LEFT, and T stands for Totalitarianism...

"The Communist secure in a positive material creed declares the condition of Europe to be evidence that the death agony of capitalism has begun. The Catholic equally secure in a positive creed which transcends materialism .declared the condition of Europe to be the logical result of turning aside from the way of life God Himself indicated when He was Man..."

Interesting stuff by a man who served actively on foreign soil in British Intelligence during World War One. I look forward to reading more of his thoughts as he describes life during the war years.

Mackenzie who wrote upwards of 100 books, also penned a four-volume memoir of those years as an intelligence officer in and near Greece during Word War One -- something else to search for...

God's Peace, the only True Peace...

Unsought Thoughts

Yesterday and today I have two rare days off. My calendar is completely empty. There is nothing that demands my presence -- no meetings, no parish demands, no social events, no projects that can't wait, even the items on Dear Diane's honey-do list can be deferred until tomorrow. It's a wonderful feeling, and one I had hoped to experience more frequently during this so-called retirement of mine.

Of course I bring it all on myself because I seem incapable of saying "No" when asked to do something. I'm not bragging and trying to paint myself in some saintly light, because, believe me, this inability is far more fault than virtue. If I allotted my time and effort more carefully I would do a much better job on the truly important tasks, and would also have more time to devote to the personal relationships that matter, especially my relationship with my spouse of 48 years. And so I have vowed to set some limits in the hope that good things will result. We'll see.

My clear calendar has also given me some time to think. The busyness of my life has made thinking an increasingly rare luxury, and so usually I just plod along doing things and thinking only about practical matters, about the hows of those things I must do. Now, I'm no great thinker, and certainly no philosopher, but the journey of life demands thought or it will ultimately be a journey to nowhere.

Josef Pieper

Indeed this little thought calls to mind that wonderful book, Leisure, the Basis of Culture, by a true philosopher, Josef Pieper (1904-1997). In it Pieper instructs us on the critical role leisure plays in the very act of being human. Too many of us today seem to think that just because we're busy, we're also being creative and productive. And yet, so much of what we do, the daily busyness of our lives, is just about making a living. Or it's directed toward ideological ends such as materialism. This modern obsession with keeping busy prevents us from focusing on that which is truly and eternally important. To do this we need leisure. If you disagree, read Pieper's book and then rethink your life and the busyness that fills so much of it.

Another thought that struck me this morning originated from an interview I watched on some local TV station late last night. The person being interviewed, a writer and self-proclaimed atheist, stated that he was turned off by all religions because most believers seemed to ignore what their religions taught. I'll paraphrase his comment: Their actions show me they really don't believe what they preach, so why should I? Anyhow, most religious people seem very grim. He especially noted Christians as the most hypocritical. The interviewer nodded knowingly and moved on to another topic.

I found myself agreeing with the atheist's premise, at least as it relates to Christianity, but coming to exactly the opposite conclusion. The fact that most Christians are abject failures when it comes to following the teachings of Jesus Christ -- i.e., we are all sinners -- actually confirms rather than denies that which we profess to believe. If we were perfect we wouldn't need a Savior. If our first parents hadn't fallen in Eden we wouldn't have to cope with original sin or need to be redeemed by God Himself. It's the very fact of our sinfulness and our continued struggle to live the Gospel that convinces me of the truth of Christianity. 

Pope Francis Sharing the Good News

As for all those grim Christians out there, I'll concede the atheist's point. Often enough, as I stand at the ambo and proclaim the Gospel at Mass, I can't help but notice that most of the faces in the congregation don't look very happy. Sometimes I want to scream, "Hey, Christians! This is the Good News you're hearing, not the bad news. You've been redeemed by Jesus Christ. God loves you as no one else has or ever will. Put a smile on your face and show God how thankful you are."

Other unbidden thoughts popped into my aging brain when I assisted at the funeral of a friend's mother on Saturday. Her name was Ruth Stafford and she died just six days after her 100th birthday! Fr. John, the homilist, mentioned how much she had witnessed during a long life that began in 1916. Yes, although the world has changed much since then, human nature has remained the same. But in addition to Ruth's birthday, we mark some interesting anniversaries in 2016 and 2017.

Flanders Field

Next year, for example, is the 100th anniversary of our nation's entry into the World War I, a war which began in August 1914 and brought devastation to Europe for four deadly years. Ironically, this "war to end all wars" did exactly the opposite. Not only did it set the stage for the even greater devastation of World War II, but it also brought us the horrors of Hitler's Nazism and Stalin's Communism, deadly ideologies that were forced onto the people of dozens of nations.

The Blessed Mother Appears at Fatima

In the midst of that war, during the spring and summer of 1916, near Fatima in Portugal, three young children were visited by an angelic being. His mission was to prepare them for something far greater the following year. And on May 13, 1917 the children saw a woman, "brighter than the sun," who told them to pray the Rosary daily. This, she promised, would bring peace to the world and an end to the war. The apparitions of Mary, which continued monthly for six months, have been repeatedly confirmed by the Church as supernatural in origin. Along with a series of predictions and warnings, the Blessed Mother told the world that the only effective antidote to sin is prayer and repentance.

Satan, of course, takes no days off and one can only assume that, even as he relished the desolation of World War I, he perceived the message of Fatima as a threat. Yes, indeed, Satan was very busy back in 1916.

On October 16 of this year Planned Parenthood celebrated the 100th anniversary of its founding. Margaret Sanger, who founded this organization devoted to death, opened its first birth control clinic in Brooklyn, NY in 1916. Sanger, who believed that certain people should not procreate, focused her attention on those races she believed to be unfit for life. Most Americans, and certainly most minorities, don't realize this, but Planned Parenthood really hasn't changed. The vast majority of its clinics are located in the nation's inner cities where they can more easily "serve" minority clients. Under the Obama administration, Planned Parenthood has received over $1.5 billion of federal funds in just the past three years and performed over one million abortions during this same period. This will only increase if Hillary Clinton is elected.

It is no coincidence that God sent the Blessed Mother to remind the world that sin has its consequences. Will the world listen?

A Younger Professor Ratzinger

All these thoughts about the past caused me to think about the future and what it holds for the world and for the Church. This brought to mind something Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) wrote back in 1969, long before he was pope, or even a bishop. It's a quote from a book entitled, Faith and the Future. The book's five chapters were actually first delivered as radio addresses during 1969 and 1970. In the last chapter, Fr. Ratzinger, then a 42-year-old theolgian, offers his vision of what the Church will be like as it encounters the changing world in the years to come. The quote is quite long, but well worth reading.

"What will remain is the Church of Jesus Christ, the Church that believes in the God who has become man and promises us life beyond death...

"From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge -- a Church that has lost much. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes, so will she lose many of her social privileges. In contrast to an earlier age, she will be seen much more as a voluntary society, entered only by free decision. As a small society, she will make much bigger demands on the initiative of her individual members. Undoubtedly, she will discover new forms of ministry and will ordain to the priesthood approved Christians who pursue some profession. In many smaller congregations or in self-contained social groups, pastoral care will normally be provided in this fashion. Alongside this, the full-time ministry of the priesthood will be indispensable as formerly. But in all of the changes at which one might guess. the Church will find her essence afresh and with full conviction in that which was always at her center: faith in the triune God, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, in the presence of the Spirit until the end of the world. In faith and prayer she will again recognize her true center and experience the sacraments again as the worship of God and not as a subject for liturgical scholarship.

"The Church will be a more spiritual Church, not presuming upon a political mandate, flirting as little with the Left as with the Right. It will be hard going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek. The process will be all the more arduous, for sectarian narrow-mindedness as well as pompous self-will will have to be shed. One may predict that all of this will take time. The process will be long and wearisome as was the road from the false progressivism of the eve of the French Revolution -- when a bishop might be thought smart if he made fun of dogmas and even insinuated that the existence of God was by no means certain -- to the renewal of the nineteenth century. But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church. Men in a totally planned world will find themselves unspeakably lonely. If they have completely lost sight of God, they will feel the horror of their poverty. Then they will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new. They will discover it as a hope that is meant for them, an answer for which they have always been searching in secret."

And so my generation has its work cut out for it: to prepare our children and our grandchildren for what is to come. The Church will face some serious hard times, but it will remain the only beacon of hope in a hostile world. I suppose the question for all of us is, are we ready to do what God expects of us? But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth? [Lk 18:8]


Enough thinking. As I typed the above words, my PC crashed and confronted me with that deadly blue screen. I have tried every remedy I can think of, along with all those recommended by HP and Microsoft, but the problem persists.The desktop PC has therefore been removed from the desk and been replaced by my handy laptop. We'll see what data has disappeared, but I trust my precautions have prevented serious loss.

God's peace.

The Somme Redux

After Friday's post in which I wrote less than flattering things about the British commander, Sir Douglas Haig, and his role in the Somme offensive, I heard from a friend, a retired Marine officer and amateur historian, who took me to task. The Somme, he argued, was a significant learning experience for the allies, in particular for Douglas Haig, and led to major changes in tactics that ultimately bought about the allied victory in 1918. He thought I was entirely too hard on Haig, whose development as a commander and increased understanding of the demands of modern warfare proved that he was the hero and not the villain of the allied cause in World War I.

My friend was more than surprised when I agreed with him, at least in essentials. But my earlier post was not about Haig's overall role as allied commander, but his role as commander during the Somme offensive. I agree that he and other allied commanders learned much from the Somme, but why did it take them so long, and at such a horrendous cost in lives, to learn their lessons?

The realities of modern warfare, particularly the effectiveness of machine guns on slow-moving, heavily burdened infantry moving forward in ranks, should have been evident after the first ten minutes of the offensive. It was certainly evident to the German soldiers who manned the machine guns. Afterwards, one German soldier described the scene as he and his comrades climbed out of their underground dugouts and turned their attention and their guns to the oncoming British troops:

"...the shout of the sentry, ‘They are coming,’ … Helmet, belt and rifle and up the steps … there they come, the khaki-yellows, they are not twenty metres in front of our trench. They advance slowly, fully equipped … machine-gun fire tears holes in their ranks.” 

British Troops Advance into German fire

It was evident as well to the British troops as they faced the withering fire of the German guns. One private, a fortunate survivor of that first day, recalled the events:

“We strolled along as though walking in a park. Then, suddenly, we were in the midst of a storm of machine gun bullets and I saw men beginning to twirl around and fall in all kinds of curious ways as they were hit.”

Additionally, Haig and his commanders should have realized rather quickly that the week-long artillery bombardment -- an estimated 1.7 million shells, including many duds -- had failed to destroy the German underground bunkers and dugouts, a failure directly responsible for the deaths of ten of thousands of his men. Not only did the bombardment fail to kill many Germans, it also didn't accomplish another of its prime objectives: the destruction of the enemy's barbed wire defenses. Another survivor, a corporal of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, described what he experienced:

“[The artillery barrage] hadn’t made any impact on those barbed-wire entanglements. The result was we never got anywhere near the Germans. Never got anywhere near them. Our lads was mown down. They were just simply slaughtered.” 

British Artillery at the Somme

As I mentioned in Friday's post, it was the worst day in British military history with 20,000 dead and 40,000 wounded. As it continued for months the Somme became a kind of British Verdun, a tragic meat grinder that resulted in very little gain. Haig was certain it would lead to a major breakthrough. Instead it became nothing more than a war of attrition. One of the reasons for these failures by the allied command structure was the simple fact that senior commanders rarely visited the trenches especially during major offensive operations. Because they hadn't observed first-hand the results of their plans and decisions, they saw no reason to alter them.

Tank and infantrymen at the Somme

Haig should also have recognized sooner and taken advantage of the effectiveness of the allies' newest weapon, the tank, but he was unable to discard the traditional infantry tactics that had been made obsolete by the technology of rapid-firing weapons. The tank was used to great effect in one of the least costly victories of the Somme offensive, but Haig seemed unimpressed by what he called a "desperate innovation."

The allied command also tried to hide the devastating carnage from the British people behind headlines celebrating a "Great Day on the Somme." But once the hospitals began to fill up with the wounded and the names of the dead were published, the people were horrified.

As I told my friend, good commanders learn from their failures, and so I suppose we can grant that Haig ultimately learned from the mistakes of the Somme. But great commanders anticipate what they may face before they send their troops into battle. They realize the likelihood of Murphy's Law appearing when one least expects it, and they plan accordingly. There's little evidence that Haig was that sort of commander.

The Somme: A Sad Anniversary

I've long been interested in World War One, the global conflict that did much to create the confusing and troubled world we face today. As a part-time student of the war and by no means an expert, I'd like to share a few thoughts on the anniversary of one of this war's major battles.

Today, July 1, is the hundredth anniversary of the Battle of the Somme, an allied offensive that began on this date in 1916 and continued for almost five months until November 18. 

Going "over the top" at the Somme

The Somme is one of those tragic events in human history that should never have happened. Planned and executed by the French and British, it achieved virtually nothing except the deaths of hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Indeed, on just that first day of July a hundred years ago, the British suffered 58,000 casualties, including 20,000 deaths. This was and remains a one-day record in British warfare. 

French Chief of Staff Joffre

The battle plan was originally conceived by French Chief of Staff Joffre, a man beloved by his countryman who referred to him as "Papa Joffre". But Joffre was also a man of questionable strategic decisions. His pre-war Plan 17 for the invasion of Germany neglected to anticipate that the Germans would attack first, and would do so by invading France via neutral Belgium. As a result, the French were caught off-guard and were ill-equipped to offer an effective defense. Making things even worse, before the war Joffre had been responsible for ridding the French army of officers possessed of a defensive mindset. He was also ill-prepared for the German offensive at Verdun in early 1916, the longest battle of the war. Verdun also generated nearly a million casualties -- half of these were deaths -- giving the world a foretaste of what was to come later that year at the Somme.

Sir Douglas Haig

The Somme battle plan conceived by Joffre was accepted by the British commander Sir Douglas Haig. The date of the offensive was moved up from August 1 to July 1 to draw off German forces from Verdun. This change also shifted the alignment of forces, turning what was originally conceived as a mostly French offensive into a largely British one. 

Haig ultimately took over the planning for the offensive which was preceded by a week of massive artillery bombardment of German positions. This not only eliminated the possibility of surprise, but also failed to achieve its objective of destroying the German fortifications. Once the artillery stopped, the Germans left their well-fortified underground bunkers, set up their machine guns, and began their slaughter of the attacking British infantry.

Haig, a leader of great inflexibility and stubbornness, continued the offensive along a 20-mile front in fits and starts until he eventually called it off on November 18. At the cost of well over one-million allied and German casualties, the Somme offensive resulted in the allies gaining less than eight miles.

Today is not a day to celebrate, but rather a day to mourn the loss of the youth of so many nations who perished during this war. These young men, needlessly sacrificed on a host of altars dedicated to greed, pride, stupidity, ideology, and blind nationalism, fought courageously while trusting that their military and political leadership would not abandon them. Sadly, too many of these leaders, on both sides, viewed the war quite simply as a war of attrition which would be won by the army that suffered fewer losses than its enemy. The result was carnage on a scale never before experienced.

I've included a remarkable 11-minute video that tries to describe what the Somme was like for the troops who fought there.

World War One Redux

In a recent post, Tree Hugging, I mentioned World War One during a discussion of the poet, Joyce Kilmer, who died in combat during that war. And then yesterday evening I happened to catch a report on the historical ignorance of many young Americans. The reporter had asked a sampling of high school and college students a few seemingly simple questions, among them: When did World War One take place? and Whom did the United States fight in World War One? According to the reporter, a significant majority could not answer either question accurately. He said if they came within five or ten years on the first question he gave them credit, and he did the same on the second question if they could name just one of the enemy combatants. By the way, he asked similar questions about World War Two, sadly with similar results. How did Edmund Burke put it? “Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it.”(Burke, by the way, was the first to say this, long before similar words were uttered by the philosopher, George Santayana, who often gets the credit.) All of this got me thinking once again about this surprising war. I call it "surprising" because at the time it seemed to take so much of the world by surprise.

Over the top: Into the Valley of Death

Have you thought much about World War One lately? After all, last year we celebrated, if I may use that word, the centennial of the start of that war in August 1914. And for the next three years many books and articles addressing the war and its causes and consequences will doubtless appear. Some will be written by authors bent on viewing the past through the filters of their present-day ideologies. But I expect a good number will be written by historians and others who will make a sincere effort to uncover and present the truth about the conflict and those who took part.

Irish Troops in the Trenches: Somme

Over the years I've actually collected quite a few books on World War One, and during the past few months I've been reading (and rereading) a few of them. Of course, Barbara Tuchman's award-winning history, The Guns of August (1962), tells the dramatic story of the months immediately prior to World War One. As I recall I first read the book during my last week of freedom before entering the U. S. Naval Academy in June 1963. 

In the Trenches: the Living among the Dead

David Fromkin's 2004 book, Europe's Last Summer, also addresses the period leading up to the war, although the author offers a different and perhaps more controversial explanation of its causes. And while I don't necessarily agree with all of Fromkin's conclusions, he does present an interesting case. 

I also found Joseph Persico's book on the war's climatic ending, Eleventh Month, Eleventh Day, Eleventh Hour (2004), a fascinating read. This book fills a historical void by describing the final day of the war in remarkable detail. 

Historian Margaret MacMillan wrote about the Paris peace talks of 1919 and the resulting Treaty of Versailles which, instead of ensuring World War One was "the war to end all wars" actually set the stage for the even greater destruction of World War Two. Her book, Paris 1919, gives the reader a front-row seat at the six months of talks that set that stage for another century of conflict that remains with us today. 

J.R.R. Tolkien and the Trenches of World War One

And for fans of J.R.R. Tolkien, I recommend John Garth's Tolkien and the Great War (2003). Garth looks to Tolkien's combat service during World War One to uncover the roots of his famous trilogy, The Lord of the Rings. A young Army lieutenant, Tolkien managed to survive the Somme, a horrendous battle that took the lives of two of his closest friends, along with 300,000 others on both sides. Garth makes a strong case that Tolkien's subsequent writings were greatly influenced by his wartime experiences in which he witnessed first-hand the war's devastation. Another book on a related subject is Joseph Loconte's A Hobbit, A Wardrobe, and a Great War in which the author examines the influence of World War One on the writings of both Tolkien and C. S. Lewis. I have not yet read this book, so I really can't comment on it, but from the reviews I've read, it sounds interesting. I expect it will eventually find its way into my library.

Maurice Baring

But the books I have enjoyed the most are those written by contemporaries, especially those who played an active role in the war. One of my literary heroes, a man too often overlooked, is Maurice Baring. Novelist, poet, playwright, diplomat, world traveler and travel writer, and a close friend of G. K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc, Baring led a most remarkable and adventurous life. During the war he was a ground officer assigned to the staff of the legendary Boom Trenchard (aka, 1st Viscount Hugh Trenchard) who was busy in France creating the Royal Flying Corps. Closely associated with those early combat aviators, Baring wrote a wonderful book based on his diaries and describing his experiences: R.F.C.  H.Q.  1914-1918. For anyone interested in the early days of military aviation, it's a must read. If you'd like to know more about Baring the man, I suggest reading his fascinating autobiography, The Puppet Show of Memory. He's one of those people you wish you had known.

H. H. Munro ("Saki")

Another of the tragic casualties of World War One was H. H. Munro, the author of so many marvelously funny short stories who wrote under the pen name of Saki. Like Joyce Kilmer, Munro would not accept an officer's commission but decided to enter the Army as a common soldier, even though his age would normally exempt him from service. And like Kilmer he too was killed by a German sniper. Munro was 43 when he entered the Army and 45 when he died. Although I recommend anything written by Munro, I especially enjoyed his short novel, When William Came. Published in 1913, a year before the start of the war, it's a bit of a fantasy describing an authoritarian occupation of Great Britain after it loses a war to Germany. In writing the novel Munro makes the case that in a world where evil exists the best way to ensure peace is to be prepared for war. 

And lastly, about 30 years ago, while nosing about in a now-defunct local bookstore in Harwich on Cape Cod (Staten Hook Books), I came across several copies of the monthly publication, Current History. First published in 1914 by the New York Times, it is still published today but by a private publisher. Anyway, I found a dozen copies dating from 1915 through 1920 and purchased them all at a dollar apiece. Each issue consists of about 200 pages of articles, commentary, photographs, and political cartoons on the war, its causes, and its aftermath. The issues covering the peace talks and the formation of the League of Nations are particularly fascinating and include complete speeches and commentary by many of the actual participants. I was also intrigued by the articles covering the revolution in Russia as it was happening. Just to give you an idea of the content of these monthlies, I've included a few covers (below) from 1917 and 1919. (Click each to enlarge.)