The Guns of August
I can think of three books whose opening lines made me weep: The King James Bible, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and The Guns of August. And while The Guns of August shares the list with two others, it stands alone as the only work of nonfiction.
On August 4, 1914, Germany, on its way to France, invaded Belgium, setting off a global chain reaction that led to the deaths of tens of millions of people.
But did you know that hours beforehand, the Kaiser tried to stop it? He asked his Chief of Staff, General Helmuth von Moltke, to halt and head toward Russia instead. But Moltke, unwilling to issue an about-face, said, "Your Majesty, it cannot be done. The deployment of millions cannot be improvised... Those arrangements took a whole year of intricate labor to complete and once settled, it cannot be altered." Apparently he'd never heard of the sunk cost fallacy. What a putz.
A whole year of work? That's your rationale for condemning millions of your own people to one bummer of a four-year stretch? If I were the Kaiser, I would have said, "I'm the one you're calling Majesty, so send a little telegram that says, STOP. FULL STOP. As it turns out Moltke himself later said that invading France was, "a mistake." Too little too late, mein Freund.
I didn't know any of that, did you? Before The Guns, my knowledge of World War I was limited to the countries involved, an oblique reference to Franz Ferdinand, and when someone mentioned Gallipoli I could say "Mel Gibson, amirite?" But now I understand how an assassination started a global chain reaction, how inflexible alliances dragged their members into war, and how individuals, hellbent on empire-building, rushed into battle, plunging their nations into war and killing millions of people. Pretty uplifting stuff.
Tuchman writes with clear prose, though it's easy to get bogged down in army movements in The Guns. My head started imploding when I read sentences like "In the center Scholtz's XXth Corps, now supported by a Landwehr division and General von Morgen's 3rd Reserve Divisions..." 🫠 Tuchman herself mentions the challenge she faced researching military minutiae: "When mired among all those Roman-numeraled corps and left and right flanks, I soon felt out of my depth and felt I should have gone to Staff and Command School for ten years before undertaking a book of this kind." But don't worry about tracking every detail. Keep your headspace free for the major themes.
Like cran, French for guts. The French army believed that what they lacked in training and equipment could be made up for with cran. Line after line, French soldiers emboldened with cran would attack, and line after line, they would be mowed down by German machine gun fire. C'est la vie. Or political ultimatums, which Germany used liberally in threats to Russia and Brussels. Or how individual personalities can affect war. In one scene Joffre, the French Field Marshal, meets with his British counterpart, Sir John French, and pleads for help.
[Joffre] said the "supreme moment" had arrived, his own orders were given and whatever happened the last company of the French Army would be thrown into the battle to save France. The "lives of all French people, the soil of France, the future of Europe" depended upon the offensive. "I cannot believe the British Army will refuse to do its share in this supreme crisis... history would severely judge your absence."
Joffre's fist crashed down on the table. "Monsieur le Marchal, the honor of England is at stake!"
At these words Sir John French, who had been listening with "passionate attention," suddenly reddened. Silence fell on the company. Slowly tears came into the eyes of the British Commander in Chief and rolled down his cheeks. He struggled to say something in French and gave up. "Damn it, l can't explain. Tell him we will do all we possibly can."
Joffre looked inquiringly at Wilson who translated, "The Field Marshal says 'Yes.'" It was hardly needed, for the tears and the tone already carried conviction.
Who says the English must always have a stiff upper lip.
But I don't just read history to learn about the events. I don't care when the Battle of Liege took place, but I care what the Battle of Liege meant to Belgium and to the world.
I read to learn who people were and how they lived. I read to learn how I should live. I'm sure at times I've been a Moltke, unwilling to stop doing something stupid and consider another action only because "the impetus of existing plans is always stronger than the impulse to change." How many times have I been a Lord Kitchener, unable to commit more to the effort out of fear? Have I ever been like General von Kluck, who, while chasing after a goal, left his compatriot's flanks wide open for enemy retaliation?
Maybe. But I'd also like to think I could be like Sir John French who did the right thing when it counted most. Or like the Belgians who fought for King Alpert, who, despite the long odds and guaranteed defeat, stood and fought anyway. And in doing so gave the Allies not just an extra day to mobilize, but "a cause and an example.”
