Tag Archives: Great War

Arts, Britain, First World War, History

The Magnificence of the British Bayeux Tapestry

WORLD WAR 1 MASTERPIECE

CAPTURED on fabric in intricate and delicate detail for the benefit of future generations hangs an epic pictorial history of conflict and conquest – death, destruction and warriors in action. Displayed not in the Bayeux Tapestry in Normandy, but in the Potteries Museum in Stoke-on-Trent.

There is no sign of Norman ships in this tableau, nor King Harold with an arrow in his eye. What we see is the wreckage of Ypres, rats in the trenches, artillery barrages and an enemy pilot plunging to his death.

Yet, as in Bayeux, the theme is timeless: war on a grand and mighty scale.

In this case, it tells the story of one battalion’s valour and sacrifice through the Great War. It is a vivid memorial to the fallen by those lucky enough to have returned home. It could easily be described as the ultimate Roll of Honour.

It is unlikely that many people would ever have seen this stunning work unrolled to its full 70ft length. Were it not for a stroke of luck last year, it might have disappeared for ever, having long ago been dumped at the back of a municipal storeroom. There it sat for years, wrapped in a sheet with a faulty label attached to it saying, ‘Tram Map of Stoke-on-Trent’.

Now, however, it is in pride of place in the city’s museum, ahead of the centenary of the end of World War I this month.

Whilst it has never enjoyed the fame of that illustrious tapestry and needlework in the Bayeux – which recounts William the Conqueror’s invasion of England in 1066 – there is, nonetheless, a similar magical quality to what we should call the Great Wall-Hanging of the West Midlands. It, too, commemorates a monumental, bloody cross-Channel military expedition.

It honours the 5th Battalion of the North Staffordshire Regiment, a unit which suffered almost double the average casualty rate on the Western Front. Running beneath it are the names of nearly a thousand men from the Potteries who never returned.

The first thing that should strike you on entering the gallery is the sheer size of it. Though a third of the length of the Bayeux model, it is much taller – 9ft from top to bottom. But, of course, this is not a tapestry.

 

AT a 1921 reunion of veterans, Tom Simpson MC proposed the idea of a pictorial Roll of Honour for the battalion and recruited a small team of old comrades who, like him, had an artistic flair.

It was painted in the same year on to an industrial roll of canvas. It was then brought out for display at regimental gatherings. But when the last of the old ‘Terriers’, as the North Staffords called themselves, ended their reunions in the Seventies, the great canvas disappeared with them. Last year, it was found in a warehouse. The staff who unrolled out were said to be astonished at their find.

For here was a warscape on both a grand and human scale, set amid towns and villages with tragically familiar names like Ypres, Lens and Passchendaele. And the colours have not faded because they were never exposed to daylight. The canvas still needs expert conservation work before it can go properly on display. For now, only a central section is on show, alongside a facsimile version of the original. Once £50,000 has been raised, the original will go on display in a new gallery.

Levison Wood, 65, a former teacher and Territorial Army officer turned historian, started the hunt for the lost work. He has spent four years recording every fallen member of the North Staffords in a magnificent two-volume register and says, “these are the teardrops of a lost generation.”

A replica version of the ‘tapestry’ shows the scenes which open in Flanders in 1915 when the battalion saw its first action.

Shortly afterwards, they were stationed at a notorious pinch-point in the Western Front’s trench network known as Hill 60. Here the men witnessed their first aerial dogfight. Many regimental accounts refer to a grim scene on June 25, 1915, when a German pilot leapt from his burning aircraft above the British lines – in pre-parachute days. And there he is.

In the same year, the 5th North Staffords suffered their worst losses at the battle of Loos when 800 men went over the top and 500 were lost in just half an hour (including three brothers). They endured similar carnage a year later during the Battle of the Somme where they were ordered to charge an impregnable German bunker at Gommecourt Wood.

By the start of 1918, so many men had perished that the battalion was disbanded and its survivors transferred to other units, including the 6th Battalion which helped capture the Riqueval Bridge over the St Quentin Canal, a pivotal action at the end of the war. As a result, the bridge features right at the end of the ‘tapestry’.

After the war, survivors resumed civilian careers. The last of the ‘Terriers’ is now long gone, of course. And yet, thanks to the efforts of Tom Simpson and his comrades, their memory lives on. The North Staffords became part of the Staffordshire Regiment. They, in turn, became part of today’s Mercian Regiment, who served with distinction in Afghanistan.

Their motto: ‘Stand Firm and Strike Hard’. By looking at this profoundly moving testimony to their forebears you will see why.

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Britain, First World War, History, Society

Great War Centenary: Respect the decision of our forebears

WW1 AND ITS CENTENARY

THE First World War was the primal disaster of modern times. Debate rages over whether to mark its centenary next month as a victory or as a catastrophe that should have been avoided.

The war began four decades of violence, hatred and cruelty that the peoples of 1914 could not have foreseen in their darkest nightmares. Across Europe, nine million soldiers died. In Britain, one in three men aged 19 to 22 in 1914 were killed. The cost could have paid for thousands of hospitals and schools, and a university for every city.

The argument that Britain should have kept out of the war seems, therefore, insurmountable. Most people in July 1914 assumed it would: the prime minister, HH Asquith, thought there was “no reason why we should be anything more than spectators”. The Cabinet, Parliament and public opinion agreed, and the government tried hard to defuse the crisis.

So, what changed?

Germany launched a surprise invasion of Luxembourg, France and Belgium. The social reformer, Beatrice Webb, decided that “even staunch Liberals agree that we had to stand by Belgium”. They thought Britain had to resist a direct threat to its security and uphold international law and order against “militarism”. Wrote the diarist Ada Reece: “We must fight, but all are agreed that it will be more terrible than any previous war [and] the ultimate consequences… none can foresee.”

Given that she was right about the consequences, should they still have kept out? Three arguments are produced to say yes. First, that it was not our fight. Secondly, that the war was futile. Thirdly, that without British intervention, Germany would have won quickly, and Europe would soon have acquiesced in its domination – a lesser evil than the horrors to come.

All these arguments are founded on very optimistic guesses. More pessimistic scenarios are at least as plausible. As early as September 1914, the German government decided that Belgium would become a “vassal state”, with its ports “at our military disposal” to directly threaten Britain. To ensure “security for the German Reich in West and East for all imaginable time”, Germany planned to annex large parts of northern France, impose a crippling financial indemnity, make France “economically dependent on Germany” and exclude British commerce. Neutral Holland would become “dependent”. Vast territories would be taken from Russia to “thrust [it] back as far as possible” – precisely what happened in 1917.

Had Germany won, democracy and liberal government would have faced a bleak feature. Authoritarian regimes would have been in the driving seat. French democracy might well have collapsed, as it did in 1940. What German soldiers and governors actually did is telling – more than 6,000 civilians in Belgium and France were massacred in the first weeks of the war by invading troops, occupied territories were subjected to military rule, and they subsequently suffered semi-starvation, mass forced labour and systematic economic devastation.

In short, Britain faced a prospect in 1914 not so different from that in 1939. It could have survived, even as a cowed and impoverished satellite state, and it is possible to consider that this would have been a lesser evil than the brutal carnage of the trenches. But in 1914, government and people decided otherwise. For one thing, they feared being forced into a future war without allies against a German-dominated coalition. They were probably right to fear what a victorious Germany might do, but they underestimated – like everyone else – the cost of preventing it. Nevertheless, most of them always believed it was worth the sacrifice.

We can choose to disagree with our forebears, but theirs was not a senseless decision – they had no safe option. If tomorrow the Russian army marched through Poland, and we were faced with the prospect of hostile aircraft based just across the Channel, would we react any differently? Let us hope we never face such a choice as the people of 1914 did. Their determination gave democracy and freedom a chance, even though it took a second war to complete the victory.

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Arts, Books, Britain, First World War, History, Military

Book Review: ‘Die Hard, Aby!’…

DIE HARD, ABY!

… For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe (William Shakespeare)

RECENT BOOKS, many by Pen and Sword such as Shot at Dawn, have highlighted the often shocking cases of young British soldiers in the Great War being executed by their own side. All too frequently their trials were cursory, the evidence flimsy and the defence wholly inadequate. Such scandals has appalled right-minded people of all political persuasions, not least as there is strong evidence that the authorities turned a blind-eye to under-age boys serving illegally on the Western Front.

Die Hard, Aby! is a book that examines in depth the shocking case of a Jewish boy, Abraham Bevistein who enlisted in the Middlesex Regiment at the age of seventeen. By all accounts an exemplary young soldier, Aby was wounded in action and hospitalised.

After what was probably a premature release, his battalion suffered a major bombardment and Aby reported sick. Declared fit for duty, he then made the fatal mistake of not returning immediately to the front-line. The authorities arrested and tried him. The conduct of that trial is examined in close detail and clearly flouts every convention of natural justice.

His execution by firing squad caused horror and utter disbelief to his family and those who knew him and readers who engage this masterly written book will, equally, feel outraged. Aby’s case featured, too, as a major part of the Channel 4 drama documentary Boy Soldiers of the First World War.

This superbly researched and, for many, highly emotive account of a specific case of grave injustice will likely fuel yet further the controversy over such executions. Die Hard, Aby! is sure to appeal to all who feel any sentiment for their fellow humans.

At the end of the book it will be for the reader to decide whether Abraham Bevistein has been afforded fair justice from the country for which he died – even after all these years.

FAIR JUSTICE?

Soldiers who were shot during the Great War have, at times, become an emotive and recurring, national argument and topic. As David Lister, the author of this compelling work ‘Die Hard, Aby!’ writes:

… It is a recurring, national itch that requires scratching at regular intervals.

There is possibly a nagging feeling by some that justice has not been done; others may just wish the subject would fade away, and pretty much feel that justice was done in the first place.

There are several books that address the issue but, even before the first of them had been conceived, interest on the subject has bubbled away under the surface from a time well before the cessation of hostilities in 1919.

The Thin Yellow Line was published in 1974. Its author, William Moore, drawing on questions raised in Hansard (House of Commons), had to make a good as a job of it as possible without recourse to official court-martial papers. Those had been closed to the public: marked ‘not for release’ until the expiration of 100-years.

A decade later, Anthony Babington’s For The Sake of Example was the first book published by an author who had been allowed to see the papers, still not yet, though, within the public domain.

75-years after the executions, the government relenting to public pressure, the war office documents were released earlier than first intended, enabling more research. At the time of the release, another publication Shot at Dawn (Julian Putkowski/Julian Sykes) had been made. This was the first book to report in detail of individual cases, as well as the first to record the names of those executed within the main-body of the text (as opposed to within a table or index).

All of these books lean towards the injustice of the situation, with the latter making a strong case for the ‘pardoning‘ of all those executed for military disciplinary offences, such as desertion or sleeping at post. Recently, though, works by Cathryn Corns and John Hughes-Wilson, produced there well-researched (but unsympathetic) publication entitled Blindfold and Alone. Here, the authors take the general stance that the executions were, for the most part, necessary and properly carried out.

For God’s Sake Shoot Straight (recently published as ‘Death for Desertion’) by Leonard Sellers tells the true story of Sub Lieutenant Edwin Dyett, one of only two officers shot for military offences during the First World War.

Die Hard, Aby! follows a logical sequence of events that trails in the wake of publications previously made available. Whilst Moore brought the issue of executions into the wider public domain and Babington examined the case in more depth, Die Hard, Aby! similarly seeks to examine the story of the enlisted men and in particular Abraham Bevistein, who like an estimated 15% of all fighting ‘men’, had signed-up as a soldier, under-age.

Lister sets out to tell the whole-story of Abraham Bevistein: where he was born, where he grew up and what, chain of events brought him to his fate. Abraham was a very ordinary boy amongst the hundreds of thousands of ordinary boys and men who died in the trenches and whose lives have not even left a footnote on the pages of history, other than a name merely scribed on a stone or a memorial panel.

Abraham has been recorded and mentioned in Hansard on occasions, now, spanning in excess of 75-years. His story exemplifies an injustice that has been allowed to endure for far too long.

David Lister’s book considers not that of the 306 men executed for military offences; but of one boy who suffered that end, Abraham Bevistein, who served under the name of “Harris” and whose gravestone even bears the name spelt incorrectly as ‘Beverstein’.

Much of Lister’s work speaks of Abraham’s times and the setting for his life. The writer acknowledges that with the passage of years, there is little to be found in records and archives of the life of one boy who grew-up in a poor part of London.

Abraham is followed from the Russian annexed land of his birth, across Europe and the North Sea and into a new land for which he chose to fight, and for which he ultimately died. A little is learnt of his school life, the regiment he joined and of the events that brought him to his untimely death.

The premise of Die hard, Aby! is a sad-case of an executed boy – taken up in Parliament – based on how letters from the front, scribbled on scraps of paper, were brought to the attention of the nation.

In a carefully choreographed story, based on real-life events, David Lister exposes brilliantly the injustice of Abraham’s untimely death by execution.

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