Rudyard Kipling, World War One and the Lost Generation

As we approach the centenary of the First World War this year, it is perhaps an appropriate time to look at the memorialisation of it and subsequent conflicts. Each year, on the Sunday nearest the 11th of November, the BBC, with David Dimbleby solemnly describing the ranks of veterans passing the Cenotaph on Whitehall, seems to broadcast almost identical services each year. Why is this? Why do we only remember the conflicts from the Great War onwards, and why are aspects of the memorialisation of that conflict still used today?

One must remember the First World War was truly a global epoch. It was the first time the world was engaged in conflict and Total War was first coined as a concept. For the first time, civilians from both sides found themselves firmly in the firing line. In Britain, conscription would be introduced and latterly rationing would also come into effect. Women would find themselves engaged in essential war work; slaving tirelessly in munitions factories, which would have been unthinkable in rigid Victorian society. It was the first time war was inescapable. The Napoleonic wars were simply not on the same scale and was during the age of musket, cannon and galleon. The Great War found itself in the age of machine gun, howitzer and dreadnought. The war was relentless; thousands died daily and the march of men and materials over the channel continued for over four years. It is the symbol of the fertile fields of post-war Flanders, the poppy, which we still use today. It was set up by the Earl Haig fund, the former Field Marshal Haig who would seemingly send hundreds of thousands of his men to death. Whilst revisionism is much kinder to Haig, undoubtedly a man of his time, constrained by the resources and techniques at his disposal, it is clear the high command realised how the conflict had surpassed anything before it in terms of casualties, political repercussions and social change. By devising a way of remembering his fallen 'Old Contemptibles' which continues to this day, encompassing all those who have died since, Haig has ensured that we have not forgotten the Great War.

The Cenotaph

The Cenotaph itself is the striking, white wide obelisk-type structure in the middle of Whitehall which forms the focal point of remembrance in the UK. The realisation that the Great War should not be forgotten and should be commemorated suitably was agreed by all sectors of society. At the top, King George V decreed a period of celebration following an end to the war in July 1919 following the Treaty of Versailles (11th November saw the cessation of hostilities; the top brass, still achingly Edwardian needed seven months to divide the spoils). The eminent architect, Edwin Lutyens, the designer of the Brighton Pavilion, designed a wooden structure to stand in the centre of Whitehall as the men filed past on 19th July 1919. The stark, white structure, lacking any triumphalism which could be seen on war memorials from the previous century, struck a chord with the British public and it was decreed that the monument should be re-made in stone. The word 'Cenotaph' comes from the Greek kenotaphian  meaning 'empty tomb' and after a war when hundreds of thousands of soldiers had no known grave and those that did were on the battlefields they fell, the Cenotaph offered a place to grieve.

The Cenotaph after its unveiling in 1920. The coffin of the unknown soldier sits on a gun carriage to the left

Written on the cenotaph are the words 'The Glorious Dead'. Suitably grand and Edwardian, the phrase seems to hold an element of triumphalism, echoes of the old Empire; the glory of those who died fighting for King and Country. It should come as no surprise then, that the man tasked with finding the language for such such monuments should be a close friend of the King and champion of Empire; Rudyard Kipling.

Rudyard Kipling

Kipling is perhaps best known for his Jungle Book stories, later adapted for film by Walt Disney. Having been born in India and watched first hand the work of the Imperial administration, Kipling believed strongly in the hegemony of the British and the work of Empire and this would become obvious in some of his work such as "The White Man's Burden" of 1899. Whilst this would be seen as totally politically incorrect today, it called for Britain and Europe to help advance the 'uncivilised' countries of the Empire and further afield. Kipling was a patriot and foresaw the beginning of the Great War, later working tirelessly, campaigning to get the young men of Britain to join the army. This continued in his own home where he fought for his son John to be allowed into the army despite failing his medical on account of his poor eyesight. As a friend of Earl Robert, Chief of the Imperial General Staff and Colonel of the Irish Guards, Kipling managed to pull the appropriate strings so that John 'Jack' Kipling was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Irish Guards in August 1914.

Rudyard Kipling (left) and 2nd Lieutenant John 'Jack' Kipling in the uniform of the Irish Guards

The slaughter of the Western Front began with the retreat from Mons in August-September 1914 and despite beginning as a mobile, fast moving conflict, the main belligerents found themselves entrenched in bloody stalemate from Nieuport on the Belgian coast in the West to the Swiss border in the East. Soon, dugouts would be joined into sprawling, zig-zagging trench systems and the daily artillery bombardments would be punctuated by offensives designed to push the enemy back. The little gains made would invariably be reversed at the cost of more life. One of those to fall would be 'Jack'. Like so many others in the Great War, details of his demise are sketchy to say the least. John led his men at the Battle of Loos on 29th September 1915 when he was hit by shellfire and his body badly disfigured. Fighting continued and John Kipling's body lay on the battlefield. Due to the nature of Great War battles, with the same thin strip of land fought over and chewed up by shellfire, and offensives lasting for days, the recovery of bodies was difficult. When it was possible, bodies had to be identified by personal effects on the body, the introduction of two fibre dog tags on the body helped and sometimes they were identified by their comrades who recovered them from the battlefield.

As John's body was not identified, he was officially posted as 'missing presumed dead'. Rudyard and his wife, Carrie searched field hospitals and interviewed comrades in the vain hope they would find him. His father threw his weight behind the Imperial (later Commonwealth) War Graves Commission to ensure his son would not be forgotten. Rudyard felt a great sense of loss and guilt for having gained John entry into the army despite failing his eyesight test. In 1992 John Kipling's grave was identified after the body of a Lieutenant of the Irish Guard was discovered in the St Mary's Cemetery in Haisnes, but current theory suggests this is actually the body of Arthur Jacob, another young officer in the same unit.

Kipling Senior's work with the Commonwealth War Graves Commission can still be seen scattered across the fields of Belgium and Northern France. The neat Portland stone headstones in cemeteries are inscribed with the rank, name, age and unit of a fallen soldier. Of the nearly 1 million British and Commonwealth soldiers that died in the war, 526,816 have no known grave. Instead, their names appear on the monuments to the missing, with the largest at Thiepval on the Somme and the Menin Gate at Ypres. However, there are 187,861 unidentified graves. Given headstones, theirs simply bear the inscription "A soldier of the Great War. Known unto God"; another of Kipling's influences we can see across many Commonwealth War Grave Commission sites across Continental Europe.

The war changed Kipling's life. It robbed him of his only son and he poured his energies afterwards into ensuring John and his comrades would not be forgotten. The rows of pristine stone tablets which mark the earth where the British army went to battle almost 100 years ago are a timeless reminder.

Happy New Year! A year of World War One Centenary Celebrations

As I stood with my cigar in one hand and a glass of port in the other mulling over a new year, my dull intoxication did not, perhaps appreciate the significance of the year 2014 as Jools Holland went nuts on a Steinbeck. I had often thought about the upcoming year and already some of the official plans had brought criticism and to a much lesser extent, admiration. Eric Pickles' idea to have poppy seeds spread across every grass verge, Tesco car park and abandoned warehouse smacked of an April Fools joke, but the idea of paving slabs to celebrate each of the 627 different recipients of the Victoria Cross in towns and villages across the country seems like a sound plan. The Empire's ultimate award for bravery was awarded irrespective of race, creed, colour or background and singled out acts of heroism in the crucible of the war. Walking over one of these slabs will hopefully make people take a moment to think and even go home and research somebody who may have followed their daily commute over a century before.

Inevitably, commemorations have been attacked, with many calling the plans a 'celebration of war', which I feel rather misses the point. The First World War was so abhorrent, ghastly and deadly that it should never be forgotten. It is true that many wanted to fight for their country; an idea ridiculed today. Many more simply wanted adventure and an escape from the 'dark satanic mills' which spread across the country or the backbreaking work in the fields. Whatever people's motivation, we must never forget that nearly 1 million British and Commonwealth soldiers died in the conflict. 250,000 a year. 20,833 a month. 672 a day. 28 an hour. One every two minutes. Not to mention the millions injured, mentally and physically. Why would anybody celebrate the war? Despite such losses, British forces never mutinied and we must pay tribute to the systems which ensured they remained an effective fighting unit: their regiments and the cameraderie within.

It is, therefore, rather disheartening to see that 5 days into the New Year, we already have a quarrel between the Education Secretary, Michael Gove, and the actor (and Labour grandee) Tony Robinson. Whilst I can never agree with Gove's style of teaching history, Robinson's take on the First World War appeared to be edging towards Bolshevism on Sky News this morning. He consistently blamed the 'officer class' for leading thousands to their death. It is unclear whether Robinson has read any decent history books or simply watched re-runs of 'Oh What a Lovely War' and waxed lyrical about Baldrick in 'Blackadder Goes Forth', but this is a myth. The young officers, or Captain Blackadder and Lieutenant George, for Robinson's sake, had a life expectancy of just six weeks in the trenches. It is true that in peacetime, some of these regular army officers had a charmed life, but after 12 months of war, the junior officers of the British Expeditionary Force had been all but wiped out. Whilst the public schools are now easy whipping boys (excuse the pun) for churning out career politicians, it is worth remembering that 1,157 old Etonians died in the First World War and 13 won the Victoria Cross. Junior officers advancing across no man's land were often singled out by German snipers and machine gunners, easily identified by their jodhpurs, pistols or pace sticks.

Whilst many senior officers were kept far from the lines, planning offensives, the idea that they stayed away from the lines totally is also false, with 78 British officers of Brigadier or higher, killed during the war. The Royal Mint released plans of its new currency to commemorate the conflict, with the £2 coin featuring the famous image of Lord Kitchener summoning Britons to join the army. Kitchener has been given the reputation by some as a warmongering Imperial overlord who led thousands of men to their deaths. One must appreciate that in 1914, Britain's standing army numbered just shy of 400,000, whilst the German conscript army was close to 2 million. Thanks to Kitchener, within 2 years, 2.5 million men had volunteered to join hiss new armies, ready to help France take on the might of the German army. It is perhaps also worth considering that Kitchener was killed by a German mine before his battalions saw the light of the day in the Battle of the Somme. Horatio Herbert Kitchener had commanded the British Army in its triumph at the Battle of Omdurman in the Sudan in 1898 and his realisation that a quick campaign of conscription would save the day in the First World War are achievements that must never be forgotten.

This year will see much debate about how commemoration should take place. Baldrick has already managed to turn it into an argument about political ideologies. The commemoration should focus on the lives of the men lost. The Old Contemptibles who had spent the latter part of the 19th Century fighting throughout Africa, who would die in the fields of Northern France during the first, mobile months of war. The young men who joined up in their droves with their friends and who would be slaughtered, shoulder to shoulder, in the first moments of the Battle of the Somme. Men like Noel Chavasse, the Medical Officer who would receive two Victoria Crosses for immense bravery, the second awarded posthumously. Tubby Clayton, the army padre who established Toc H house, an oasis of peace and calm within the slaughter and horror of the Ypres salient.

The First World War saw an uneasy clash between generals who were used to fighting vastly inferior forces in the reaches of Empire suddenly against a well-trained and well-equipped German army of vastly superior numbers. It saw warfare become truly mechanised, where innovation was used to develop the best way of delivering toxic chlorine and mustard gas and the heaviest artillery possible. This created a stalemate across the Western Front which resulted in an horrific crucible within which men were poured. We must never forget their sacrifice. At the time they fought for their friends, their families and, as it may seem unpalatable for some in our modern age, they fought for their country.

Their Name Liveth For Evermore