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The Battle of Loos
Loos is a small mining town between Lens and La Bassee in northern France. But on 25th September 1915, and for a few days after, it was the center of one of the most intense and bloody battles of the First World War. The casualties were appalling - about 60,000 of which the majority died on the first day. The main objective - a large-scale breakthrough - was not achieved although some 8,000 yards of enemy trench were captured and in some places their defenses were penetrated up to two miles. Yet if the initial gains had been exploited the course of the war might have been different. If courage and determination could have won the day by themselves. Loos would have been a success. It is these qualities which Philip Warner's narrative reveals above all. For a large part of this story of Loos consists of survivors' own accounts and diaries of the time, including that of Sir John French. The author has traced survivors from all parts of the line, infantry, gunners and officers, and through their words has revealed one of the most horrific tales of war yet to be published as well as the determination and heroism that in the end turned the scales to victory.
245 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1976
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About the author
Philip Warner
88 books9 followersPhilip Warner (1914 - 2000) was an outstanding military historian, and for the last 13 years The Daily Telegraph's peerless Army obituarist. Indeed, he played a vital role in setting the standard for the modern Telegraph obituary. He had a relish for the piquant detail and an understanding that a good story should never be overdressed.
He was a master of the laconic, lapidary phrase. Warner's direct, uncluttered and transparent prose, was a reflection of the man. Above all, he felt deep admiration for the lives he celebrated. His own character, always strong, had been tempered by his terrible experiences at the hands of the Japanese during the Second World War.
One of the Allied soldiers rounded up and imprisoned after the fall of Singapore on February 15 1942, he spent some time in the infamous Changi jail, and worked on the Railway of Death. For every sleeper laid on the 1,000 miles of track through Malaya, Burma and Thailand, a prisoner of war was lost. Philip Warner was saved by his tough-mindedness and by his belief in the virtues of loyalty. To help his fellow prisoners forget their troubles, he organised plays, talks and debates.
Afterwards, he never liked to mention his ordeal. He felt he owed his survival to his physical condition (he performed 30 minutes of exercises every day of his life), his scrupulous hygiene (hard to stick to when one is starving), and to his strong sense of belonging to his family back in Britain. At night he would look at the moon, and think of it passing over Warwickshire.
In 1944 Warner and other able-bodied PoWs were stowed under deck in a troopship (he enjoyed the irony of being almost torpedoed by the Americans), and taken to Japan, where he worked in the copper mines, in dark, hot and dangerous conditions.
As the Americans closed in, he and his fellow PoWs had the unnerving experience of being herded into caves, while the Japanese guards set up machine-guns outside. The atom bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki probably saved the prisoners from massacre.
At the beginning of the war Warner had weighed 14 stone; in 1945 he was 4.5 stone. In 1,100 days of captivity, he only received half a Red Cross parcel. He was never among those inclined to bestow easy forgiveness upon the Japanese. The maltreatment which he had endured increased his natural reticence. Although he set great store by loyalty, he gave his trust warily.
Once certain that he could rely on someone, he would do anything for them; should anyone abuse his trust, he was slow to forgive. "There are six billion people in the world," he was wont to say, "and when this person gets to the top of the pile again, I will give him another chance." After the war Warner taught at Sandhurst and became a prolific writer, turning out more than 50 books.
He would produce two volumes a year, not to mention up to 200 obituaries and many book reviews - all with an absolute minimum of fuss. He worked on the principle that, once he had covered a page with writing, he could always cross it out. He was a firm believer in the virtues of perseverance - "Stick at the wicket and the runs will come" - and in early starts: "One hour in the morning is worth two in the afternoon, is worth three in the evening."
In the 1970s he was seriously ill, but under his colossal labour he throve as never before. Without it, he used to say, he would have had to play golf every day; and, useful player though he was, that was not his idea of a tolerable life.
Though the last man to preach, Philip Warner set a supreme example of how to tackle old age. While eager to enjoy himself, and, still more, to see that his friends enjoyed themselves, he instinctively understood that pleasure is best courted against a background of disciplined endeavour.
Philip Arthur William Warner was born at Nuneaton on May 19 1914, the last in
He was a master of the laconic, lapidary phrase. Warner's direct, uncluttered and transparent prose, was a reflection of the man. Above all, he felt deep admiration for the lives he celebrated. His own character, always strong, had been tempered by his terrible experiences at the hands of the Japanese during the Second World War.
One of the Allied soldiers rounded up and imprisoned after the fall of Singapore on February 15 1942, he spent some time in the infamous Changi jail, and worked on the Railway of Death. For every sleeper laid on the 1,000 miles of track through Malaya, Burma and Thailand, a prisoner of war was lost. Philip Warner was saved by his tough-mindedness and by his belief in the virtues of loyalty. To help his fellow prisoners forget their troubles, he organised plays, talks and debates.
Afterwards, he never liked to mention his ordeal. He felt he owed his survival to his physical condition (he performed 30 minutes of exercises every day of his life), his scrupulous hygiene (hard to stick to when one is starving), and to his strong sense of belonging to his family back in Britain. At night he would look at the moon, and think of it passing over Warwickshire.
In 1944 Warner and other able-bodied PoWs were stowed under deck in a troopship (he enjoyed the irony of being almost torpedoed by the Americans), and taken to Japan, where he worked in the copper mines, in dark, hot and dangerous conditions.
As the Americans closed in, he and his fellow PoWs had the unnerving experience of being herded into caves, while the Japanese guards set up machine-guns outside. The atom bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki probably saved the prisoners from massacre.
At the beginning of the war Warner had weighed 14 stone; in 1945 he was 4.5 stone. In 1,100 days of captivity, he only received half a Red Cross parcel. He was never among those inclined to bestow easy forgiveness upon the Japanese. The maltreatment which he had endured increased his natural reticence. Although he set great store by loyalty, he gave his trust warily.
Once certain that he could rely on someone, he would do anything for them; should anyone abuse his trust, he was slow to forgive. "There are six billion people in the world," he was wont to say, "and when this person gets to the top of the pile again, I will give him another chance." After the war Warner taught at Sandhurst and became a prolific writer, turning out more than 50 books.
He would produce two volumes a year, not to mention up to 200 obituaries and many book reviews - all with an absolute minimum of fuss. He worked on the principle that, once he had covered a page with writing, he could always cross it out. He was a firm believer in the virtues of perseverance - "Stick at the wicket and the runs will come" - and in early starts: "One hour in the morning is worth two in the afternoon, is worth three in the evening."
In the 1970s he was seriously ill, but under his colossal labour he throve as never before. Without it, he used to say, he would have had to play golf every day; and, useful player though he was, that was not his idea of a tolerable life.
Though the last man to preach, Philip Warner set a supreme example of how to tackle old age. While eager to enjoy himself, and, still more, to see that his friends enjoyed themselves, he instinctively understood that pleasure is best courted against a background of disciplined endeavour.
Philip Arthur William Warner was born at Nuneaton on May 19 1914, the last in
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
May 2, 2020
The battles of 1915 are particularly interesting in the history of the war, and Loos was the largest of them for the British army. Warner's book is full of personal accounts of the battle from those who were there, however, these are unfiltered, and lack any analysis, or even very much in he way of supporting narrative, beyond the first chapter.
Personal accounts can help bring a battle to life, but it was difficult to place those included here in the wider context of the battle. A number of accounts added nothing at all, being a few short sentences that noted an individual had been there, and in at least one case the account was factually wrong and clearly referred to the Somme battles in September 1916 - a point acknowledged in a footnote, but would have been easier to omit altogether.
Three stars because of the quantity of personal accounts, but otherwise a book that is unfulfilled promise. Niall Cherry, Nick Lloyd and Gordon Corrigan have all written superior books on this important battle, and I would recommend these over this account.
Personal accounts can help bring a battle to life, but it was difficult to place those included here in the wider context of the battle. A number of accounts added nothing at all, being a few short sentences that noted an individual had been there, and in at least one case the account was factually wrong and clearly referred to the Somme battles in September 1916 - a point acknowledged in a footnote, but would have been easier to omit altogether.
Three stars because of the quantity of personal accounts, but otherwise a book that is unfulfilled promise. Niall Cherry, Nick Lloyd and Gordon Corrigan have all written superior books on this important battle, and I would recommend these over this account.
October 21, 2025
I bought this book thinking it was a straightforward narrative history of the Battle of Loos, and was initially disappointed that much of the content consists of verbatim recollections of veterans. However, as soon as I started reading these accounts I was hooked. They are usefully categorised into the units and support arms that took part in the battle, so the narrative is there - albeit from the perspective of the participants. There is a short history which sets up the eye-witness accounts nicely and the maps are well drawn and easy to interpret.
January 19, 2019
The narrative portion of the book is a bit dry and disjointed. The real meat and bones of this history is the letters sent to the author. He requested personal accounts of the battle in the newspaper in early 1976. The author got an overwhelming response to his request from men then in there eighties. The book takes off and becomes more interesting. This story is very informative as to the personal struggle of the men during Battle of Loos. A good read in the end.
September 29, 2018
More than for the hurried and incomplete account and analysis of the battle, this book is a treasure because of the many (and many of them exceptional) accounts and letters and memoires collected by the author and written by those who fought at Loos, or at least witnessed it from the rear.
October 14, 2020
A combined narration would have been better. It felt like groung dog day at Loos with all the individual eyewitness accounts.
September 25, 2015
The battle of Loos was the last and greatest of Britain's offensives on the Western Front in 1915. Along with Neuve Chapelle, Aubers Ridge, Festubert, and the defensive battle of Second Ypres, the other British battles in France and Belgium that year, Loos has been largely forgotten between the drama of 1914 and the 'spectaculars' at the Somme in 1916 and Passchendaele in 1917.
That is hugely unfair. The pre war BEF met it's end at First Ypres in late 1914 and Kitchener's Army of volunteers took up the struggle at the Somme. But Loos was the battle that largely disposed of the army in the middle - that composed of a few of the original veterans, the Territorial Army recruits, and the first wave of volunteers. And they acquitted themselves brilliantly. The first day, September 25th, saw the British rupture the German lines and achieve a respectable advance. On the 26th, however, the problems which were to become so familiar - a failure of command and control, the inability to move reserves to exploit successes quickly enough - became apparent and the offensive bogged down.
This book is a good memorial to those men. In 1975, Philip Warner advertised in the Telegraph for survivors of the battle to contact him with memories, letters, or diaries. After a brief overview, Warner lets these men, fighting, in many cases, to rescue those days from memory, speak for themselves.
That is hugely unfair. The pre war BEF met it's end at First Ypres in late 1914 and Kitchener's Army of volunteers took up the struggle at the Somme. But Loos was the battle that largely disposed of the army in the middle - that composed of a few of the original veterans, the Territorial Army recruits, and the first wave of volunteers. And they acquitted themselves brilliantly. The first day, September 25th, saw the British rupture the German lines and achieve a respectable advance. On the 26th, however, the problems which were to become so familiar - a failure of command and control, the inability to move reserves to exploit successes quickly enough - became apparent and the offensive bogged down.
This book is a good memorial to those men. In 1975, Philip Warner advertised in the Telegraph for survivors of the battle to contact him with memories, letters, or diaries. After a brief overview, Warner lets these men, fighting, in many cases, to rescue those days from memory, speak for themselves.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews