Bridge Over the River Rhine

By September 1944 the tides of war had turned, and the Allies were slowly washing inwards across Europe. Paris had been liberated and, five long years into World War Two, there was talk that it all could be over by Christmas. Integral to making this happen was a decisive entry into Germany.

Approaching Germany from the west, the Siegfried Line marked a significant obstacle for the Allies to cross. Heavy fortifications had been in place along almost 400 miles stretching the length of Germany's western border since before the war had begun - Hitler planning the 'Westwall' of his nation as early as 1936. Alongside thousands of bunkers lay 'dragon's teeth', which acted as tank traps.

The Allied solution to the Line was an airborne attack that was to be codenamed Operation Market Garden. The plan called for the largest ever aerial movement in military history, and would allow for the Siegfried Line to be broken from both sides. Near to the Dutch town of Arnhem troops were to be dropped, and were to take control of the bridges that crossed the Rhine. On September 17th 1944 the massive task was undertaken and, though there were plenty of initial successes, the attempt quickly stalled.

André Deutsch's book 'Victory in Europe', Julian Thompson looks at the battle that ensued after the initial landings and considers the individuals who found themselves surrounded once more by the terrors of war. Below is a letter sent during the battle at Arnhem, written by Daily Express reporter Alan Wood, and featured in the book.

For more on the battle, the operation and the decisive actions that would win the war for the Allies (albeit not by Christmas), read Julian Thompson's 'Victory In Europe'.

A Visit to the Imperial War Museum

This week marks the precise point, one hundred years ago, at which the first conflicts of World War One broke out in Europe. It's natural, as a military history publisher in 2014, that our thoughts have very much been centred on the First World War in recent months - but we never like to separate ourselves from the true artefacts for too long. With the re-opening of London's own Imperial War Museum this month, and memories of war at their peak, we thought it was high time we paid the refurbished museum a visit!

The first thing that strikes visitors as they enter the IWM is a (fairly) modern weapon of war, hanging in beautiful comparison with a much older one. The arch that separates the entrance hall from the glorious main atrium offers a sneak peak at both the Harrier (above) and Spitfire.

Growing up with an overly-eager aeroplane-adoring father, we were often subjected to his (not so) internal debates over which of these two was his favourite plane. Was it the lovingly nicknamed Jump Jet, a fighter that had become immediately iconic upon its 1969 introduction due to its ability to launch vertically into the air? Or was it the more sprightly, but no less iconic, Spitfire? We're huge fans of both, but the Spitfire probably wins our favour, having captured the public's imagination (and loyalty) during WWII's Battle of Britain. It's also a beautiful beast, formed of gentle curves and terrific design points.

One of the biggest attractions at the refurbished IWM is the museum's new First World War galleries. These curve around the base of the atrium and, as you can see above, attract quite a queue even in the initial hour after opening.

Unlike the atrium, which offers up grand artefacts with little context - planes, cars and rockets - the First World War galleries are an intensely intimate and emotive affair. With that in mind, we didn't really feel it appropriate to take photos. The whole experience is terrific, and beautifully curated. A reconstructed trench, though obviously lacking in mud, water and constant threat to one's life, is nevertheless a moving experience. The shouts of soldiers evoke the terror of gas attacks as the deafening roar of a warplane rumbles overhead. A small boy walking down the trench with his mother was suitably unnerved that he kept on having to be chased down and brought back so he could understand that though he was safe, this was a terrifying reality to many young men in years now passed.

Indeed, though the exhibition is filled with mostly small items - heavy rifles that can be lifted to demonstrate the burden they put on soldiers, camouflage gear and bullet-ridden hiding places - they build a tremendous, awe-inspiring picture that becomes much more than the sum of its parts.

Back out in the atrium, we climbed the huge staircase towards the top floors. Though there are lifts hiding at the back, these are the best way to view the treasures in the huge hall of the museum. Every stair opens up a slightly different angle on the past, and on the weapons (and casualties) of war that surround you.

See what we mean about different angles on the past? It seems strange, but something about the ability to view everything in the atrium from almost every possible direction really opens up the idea of the items. Technology develops before your eyes - planes, then rockets, and then planes with jet engines. Below you can see the destruction these instruments are capable of delivering. Again, here, we see the queue for the WWI exhibit. It was heartening to see such crowds on a Wednesday morning, all willing to wait so that they might spend time remembering the sacrifices made by men born more than a century ago.

Upstairs offered different sorts of horror - these came from the reminders that war is still all around us. It can be easy to distance ourselves from the terrors of WWI. The upper floors of the IWM bring us back to reality. Here a peace-keeping tank sits in stark comparison with a mural of Saddam Hussein. Around the corner sat a rusted, twisted window frame from the World Trade Center. That too, like the First World War exhibition below, we couldn't bring ourselves to photograph. It wasn't a souvenir, but rather a cold home truth. It did not look like a window frame. It did not look like it had ever been fresh, new, a provider of a crisp view over New York City. Such was the destruction brought upon it.

Elsewhere upstairs there was a segment of the Berlin Wall and, bringing things closer to home than anything else, a newspaper from one of the buses destroyed in London's 7/7 terror attacks. We were reminded that the last time we had visited the fully open IWM it had been one day before these attacks.

This was, perhaps, what we took away from our trip to the Imperial War Museum. The separation from wars passed, and yet the complete connection to those that still wage around us. There were personal realisations, and communal ones. The renovation done to the museum is wonderful, and it stands to educate and remind more emotively than ever before for many years to come.

André Deutsch has published numerous books with the Imperial War Museum. Our latest, 'The First World War on the Home Front' by the museum's senior historian Terry Charman, is available here.

Live from the Western Front!

It was one hundred years ago yesterday - at 11am, precisely, that World War One broke out. The initial declaration of war involved only two countries - Austria-Hungary and Serbia - but over the weeks that followed peace tumbled into the exclusive realms of recent memory, and the first great international conflict arose.

One hundred years is ultimately little more than a cultural landmark - a big round number that has been given its own title, a 'century' and seems beyond comprehension to many. One hundred years ago is history to all but a select few who might still recall it from their infancy. Though a cultural construct, it also marks a sort of separation from our past. More than ever, it becomes vital that we remember the horrors and heroics that brought us to the world we live in today. One of our favourite approaches to this challenge comes by way of the various Twitter accounts that have pledged to report the First World War, day by day, as it happened one hundred years ago. We've rounded up our favourites in hope that we can further their efforts to keep history alive!

@RealTimeWWI

7000+ followers

Real Time WWI might be the third most popular of the accounts we're featuring here, but it's certainly earned its followers. A comprehensive study that often lets its statuses overflow into more than one tweet, and is prone to sharing interesting photos that pair with the news. Yesterday's understated tweet announcing Austria-Hungary's declaration of war was followed with a copy of the telegrammed document itself.

@WW1_100YearsAgo

50+ followers

Like @RealTimeWWI, this account has been tweeting for roughly a month - since the centenary of Archduke Ferdinand's assassination. It's clearly a passion project for whoever is behind it; though tweets are frequent and informative, we're still waiting on one to mark the declaration of war that started it all off. Still, plenty of detail ensures the account sometimes feels like a behind-the-scenes of the war we all know so well.

@CenturyAgoToday

10700+ followers

Having been around since early 2012, @CenturyAgoToday isn't strictly dedicated to WW1. Nevertheless, it will have to focus on the war more and more over the coming years, and it offers all sorts of wider historical context both socially and otherwise. Ever since this morning's declaration of war, @CenturyAgoToday have been the most prolific tweeters, sharing all sorts of information in the few short hours that the war has had to develop.

@WW1Now

350+ followers

Efficiency is the name of the game with @WW1Now - their updates are short, sweet and to the point. It's possibly the most Twitter-friendly of our selection, with frequent hashtags allowing easy exploration of the topics at hand. The account's brief tweets are an excellent kicking off point for personal historical exploration, though. Coverage of the future HMS Agincourt's construction led us to discover much more of the ship's rich history.

@SkyNewsWW1

13600+ followers

The celebrity of the war-tweeting scene, Sky News specialises, like several others, in quick and tidy summations. The account limits itself somewhat by seemingly insisting on only one update a day, and we wonder how this will be maintained once the war is in full swing and events come thick and fast. For now though, @SkyNewsWW1 has one overwhelmingly fun factor - in keeping with their main function in the modern world, the biggest stories often come with a 'breaking news' warning! This is the war, as seen through the eyes of a news channel in ways they otherwise might never have been able to.

A Blog From WW1: Women at Work

It's a busy week for military history! While the Imperial War Museum teases the world's media with their newly renovated London museum, the week also sees the release of 'The First World War on the Home Front', by the IWM's senior historian Terry Charman. To celebrate this new book, which takes account of the domestic toll of the Great War on Britain, we're blogging direct from the war. Charles Balston, a 61 year-old retired civil servant, kept a diary throughout the war - his is one of many that Charman drew on to reveal the situation on the Home Front.

Today we see Balston's thoughts on the way the war changed the lives of women:

"Young women had realized their opportunities & the daughters of the cultured & leisurely homes were responding to the call of service and sacrifice with enthusiasm. Gone... are the young ladies of Fanny Burney, Jane Austen, Thackerey & Dickens and the ladies of Cranford would have been scandalized if asked to do the things their descendants cheerfully performed. They had learned the luxury of doing good in the hospitals of France, Gibraltar, Malta & in Serbia - where typhus was raging - hundreds of British women were performing heroic duties and thousands more were seeking all manner of employment.

In July Mrs Pankhursy - the leader of the suffragette movement - employed the Women's Social and Political Union to form a procession in London on the (Saturday) 17th of women eager to give their services to their country and announced that Mr Lloyd George would receive a deputation of them.... In bad weather she led the procession of 40,000 women through London preparatory to meting him at the Ministry of Munitions on the Thames Embankment."

Charles Balston is one of dozens of everyday Britons whose stories come together to form a picture of life in Britain throughout World War One in Terry Charman's 'The First World War on the Home Front'. You can buy a copy here, and don't forget to check back tomorrow for more of Charles' war experiences!

A Blog From 1914: Lord Devonport's Rationing

This week, André Deutsch are pushing the boundaries of time as a linear concept, and bringing you all what might just be the world's first blogs direct from 1914. Back then, of course, 'Blogger' was just the name of the family butcher down the street, and the stories we'd type up today we written down in an ancient paper-format referred to as a 'diary'. Terry Charman's new book 'The First World War on the Home Front', produced in association with the Imperial War Museums (and coinciding with the re-opening of their magnificent London galleries), is filled with the stories of Britons (and, indeed, Britain) during the Great War.

Over the next few days we'll be posting excerpts from the diary of Charles Balston, a 61 year-old retired civil servant from Dulwich who features prominently in the new book. Today we explore rationing with him.

"[Food Controller Lord Devonport] started by putting the country on rations and on its honour not to exceed them. Sugar, potatoes, bread & meet were rationed. In the case of bread, no loaves under 12 hours could be sold by bakers and the flour was mixed with husks. We were enjoined to eat less of it and to help us in doing so the price of bread as increased to a shilling a quartern loaf. The manufacture and sale of pastry was also restricted, lest we should adopt Queen Marie Antoinette's suggestion to substitute cakes for bread.

The sale of paste for putting up wallpaper and of starch for stiffening linen was prohibited. Racing was restricted to reduce the consumption of oats. [These restrictions] had an inevitable effect on the health of the nation, especially as the quality of the standard flour issued by millers varied and some bakers were not so skilful or scrupulous as others in making palatable bread and this was shewn in the loss of fat and reduction in weight and also in skin-troubles and ill health.

Charles Balston is one of dozens of everyday Britons whose stories come together to form a picture of life in Britain throughout World War One in Terry Charman's 'The First World War on the Home Front'. You can buy a copy here, and don't forget to check back tomorrow for more of Charles' war experiences!

A Blog From 1914: Kaiser Wilhelm and Attila the Hun

Kaiser Wilhelm delivers the infamous 'Hun' speech to German troops disembarking for China in 1900.

Throughout this week, André Deutsch will be celebrating the release of Terry Charman's comprehensive account of 'The First World War on the Home Front'. The book is an ambitious attempt to rediscover Britain during World War One, and features insight from a number of contemporary diarists. These were, for the most part, ordinary people caught up in a war that dragged on longer than anyone might have hoped. Over the next few days, we'll have one of these World War One diarists blog for us with extracts of his writing as featured in the book.

Charles Balston was 61 when war was announced, a former Indian civil servant who had retired to Dulwich. His diaries throughout the war paint vivid pictures of the home front experience, and of the ever-evolving public opinion of the war, the enemy, and life in war-torn Britain. Enjoy his first blog, as extracted from Terry Charman's 'The First World War on the Home Front':

"The men who do these things [German atrocities in Belguim] were rightly called Huns. But who gave them that name? Who was it that urged them to emulate Attila and his Huns?

Attila's proclamtions to his troops before battle sound as if they were falling from the lips of the Kaiser ... that the Kaiser sought to emulate his progenitor there can be no doubt. Even so far back as 1900 when he sent his brother Henry to China [sic] he enjoined them "to strike out with his mailed fist and spare not". To strike Attila and his Huns. Did he not also invoke the grace of God & did he not allow his armies to strike as the Huns did when he had the Belgians at his mercy. The term was not of enemy origin. It was the appellation expressly chosen for his troops by the Kaiser - and it suited them."

Charles Balston is one of dozens of everyday Britons whose stories come together to form a picture of life in Britain throughout World War One in Terry Charman's 'The First World War on the Home Front'. You can buy a copy here, and don't forget to check back tomorrow for more of Charles' war experiences!

Letter to an Unknown Soldier

"On Platform One of Paddington Station in London, there is a statue of an unknown soldier; he's reading a letter."

So begins one of the most creative commemorations of the First World War we've seen in this centenary year. 'Letter to an Unknown Soldier' encourages people of all ages and backgrounds to imagine what words might be found on the Paddington soldier's letter. When Stephen, one of the André Deutsch team, first saw the project he knew immediately what he wanted to say to the unknown soldier. You can read his letter below:

Dear Us,

I have to admit, I’d never really noticed you before, standing quietly to the side with a letter in your hand. I’d like to say it’s because life doesn’t often take me through Paddington’s bow-legged concourse, but I don’t think that’s true. Rather, I suppose I have ignored you. Consciously uncoupled myself from the past in favour of Samsung phones and pop culture references.

You see, I worry. I worry that were I to stop before you, instead of shuffling past with my head buried in the present, I might see something of myself in your sunken features and war-torn stance. I might realise that you are not the unknown soldier everyone says you are, but rather some earlier form of me. My mind, my heart, born to another time. And then, reluctantly, I would have to face up to your war as though it were mine.

I would have to place myself some hundred years outside of my comfort zone, and make decisions I’d rather not have to make. I would have to consider the consequences of my choices – not just for me, but for people I’ve never even met. For people not yet born.

I would have to consider how I might react under enemy fire, if I could react at all. I would have to imagine the feel of a revolver's grip in my hand, and whether it might scare me or elicit something even worse. Whether it might tempt me. Would I be a hero, or just another young man entrenched overseas, and out of his depth?

I’d like to say that sometimes I stand below you for minutes at time, considering these things, but I can’t. I just walk past, head down, locking you out with my headphones and touchscreen.

Read Stephen's letter and more on the 1418 Now website! We've also curated a playlist of World War One songs that you can listen to here.

Our Man in Normandy

Last weekend, the world took time out of its day to remember, and commemorate, the 70th anniversary of the D-Day invasion of Normandy. As a self-confessed fan of military history, André Deutsch's editorial director Piers Murray Hill was already set to spend the weekend on the French beaches. We asked that he document his experience for us. These are a few of the photos he took over the course of an extraordinary weekend.

Utah Beach veterans meet for the first time at Pointe du Hoc on 7 June 2014 and swap stories of the subsequent break-out fighting at St Lo. They were 19 and 20 back in 1944.

Piers Murray Hill at the Hillman bunker complex behind Sword Beach. This fortified strongpoint prevented the British from taking Caen on June 6th.

Commemorative wreaths at the original Pegasus Bridge captured on D-Day, now situated in the museum's garden.

A vintage Citroën in Free French livery in the Pointe du Hoc visitors car park.

Amphibious DUKW (or 'Duck') at Port-en-Bessin, captured by British commandos on 7 June in Operation Aubery.

The forward observation officer's view of the Channel for the four 152mm guns at Longues sur Mer between Gold & Omaha Beaches. The battery failed to sink any Allied ships and was captured without a fight by the British on 7 June.

One of the Longues sur Mer gun emplacements.

Humber armoured car at Port-en-Bessin.

Thanks to Piers for his photos. We'll be hearing more of his experiences at the D-Day 70th events later in the week. You can also follow us on Twitter at @ADMilitary, where we've been posting updates from Pier's trip over the last few days.

The Longest Day

We hope it’s clear for all to see: the team here at André Deutsch are passionate about military history. This is a tremendously significant year for us, as we focus more than ever before on our military history publishing, but also prepare to commemorate some of the most important events in modern history. One of our recent labours of love has been publishing a new, definitive edition of Cornelius Ryan’s genre-defining work ‘The Longest Day’.

‘The Longest Day’ is a treasure amongst war literature, and is loved dearly by many. We wanted to treat it with the reverence it deserves, whilst also adding to the experience of reading an already unforgettable book. It was a great challenge, which is why the letter below, sent to our Editorial Director, Piers Murray Hill, by Cornelius Ryan’s daughter, Veronica, means so much to us.

Dear Mr Hill,

I cannot tell you how wonderful the new Carlton special edition of The Longest Day is and how much it means to me.  It is beautifully done and certainly a treasure not only to my family but to anyone who gets a copy. The new photos and the additions in the envelopes are just wonderful.

I was 18 when my father died.  He meant the world to me.  To this day, losing him was by far the most difficult experience of my life.  I realize that I knew so little about him because my vantage point was that of a child.  To me, he was such fun.  He was loud and gregarious, certainly the center of every party or get together at our home.  He was the kind of father who seemed to make anything happen.  When he became ill, when I was 14, he embarked on a race against time to write A Bridge Too Far.  He did not want to leave his family unprotected.  I wonder if he knew just how much he meant to people around the world whom he touched with his words.  I am proud, beyond words, to be his daughter.  While I am not particularly clever in the writing arena, I certainly developed his sense of humor and and his joie de vivre!

It was amazing to me to read my father describe this book he envisioned and the enormous passion he had for it in the letters he wrote.  He had such a strong vision and such self-confidence! His enthusiasm was indefatigable. 

It is a joy to see this special edition in print and to know that my father’s books still have such literary and historical importance.  As the anniversary approaches, I have seen several articles listing the best books about the D Day invasion and my dad’s book is still in the top five!!  I think I am truly blessed to be his daughter.

Doug McCabe has been heaven sent.  His commitment to the collection and to my father’s reputation has been solid.  There could not have been anyone more appropriate to be the curator of this collection.  I have a wonderful friendship with Doug and Valaria and they have been true and loyal friends.  He was the perfect person to write the Introduction to the Carlton edition. I am sure he went out of his way to help with this project.  His knowledge of the collection is almost uncanny and sometimes I wonder if a little of Cornelius's spirit resides in Doug’s heart!

So, dear Piers, I thank you for believing in this project.  For making another of Cornelius’s dreams come true.  For giving my children an understanding about how important and necessary their grandfather was. Especially for giving me back my father for a moment and letting me feel his warmth again. 

Respectfully, 

Victoria Ryan Bida

André Deutsch's D-Day 70th Anniversary Collector's Edition of 'The Longest Day' by Cornelius Ryan is available from our website.

Crosswords and Crossed Wires

Photo: Craig Sunter

Commuters today are more likely to be seen on their phones playing Candy Crush Saga or Flappy Bird than they are to be caught tutting over 8 Down in a crossword. But in May 1944 crosswords were the morning’s pastime for millions of Britons. Which is why MI5 became particularly concerned when their top-secret codenames kept on appearing in the Telegraph’s daily puzzle.

It started innocently enough, with a few words appearing over several months’ worth of crosswords. ‘Juno’. ‘Gold’. ‘Sword’. Though it was likely noticed that the answers were also codenames for several of the beaches earmarked for the following month’s D-day landings, it seems little heed was paid. After all, back in 1942 the town of Dieppe had appeared in the same puzzle just two days before the failed raid on the region and that occurrence had been judged an unhappy coincidence.

When, a few days later, another beach was mentioned in the crossword (‘One of the U.S. (four)’ – you can work that one out) eyebrows were raised. Four more clues followed in the days leading up to D-Day. The first was another beach, two were the codenames of the operations themselves – Overlord and Neptune, and one seemingly referred to the ‘mulberry’ harbours that the Allies planned to erect upon landing on the Normandy coast.

MI5 were dispatched to investigate, and Leonard Dawe, who set the crosswords (and was also a headteacher and a former amateur footballer who had spent the 1912 Olympics on the bench for the national team) was arrested. Despite in-depth interrogations, it was decided that Dawe had not been aware of the significance of the words he chose, and that the Daily Telegraph’s crossword probably wasn’t being used as a tool for international espionage.

It was only forty years later that the truth came out for everyone to see when Ronald French, a former pupil of Dawe’s, came clean. French told of how his school, headed by Dawe, had been evacuated to Surrey during World War Two, and placed besides a large military camp. At the same time as the young schoolboys were picking up the various code-words soldiers in the camp were using, Dawe was encouraging the boys to fill in blank crossword puzzles as a school activity. A pollution of Dawe’s own crosswords, once examined with such context, seems inevitable.

The story of Leonard Dawe's suspicious crosswords features in both André Deutsch's new collector's edition of 'The Longest Day', and John Halpern's fascinating book 'The Centenary of the Crossword'. You can buy them both at the links above.