The Road to Verdun: World War I's Most Momentous Battle and the Folly of Nationalism

by Ian Ousby

A powerfully immediate and controversial account of one of the longest and bloodiest engagements of World War I.

In mid-February 1916, the Germans launched a surprise major offensive at Verdun, an important fortress in northeast France. By mid-March, more than 90,000 French troops had been killed or wounded. The fighting continued for seven long months, with casualties on both sides mounting in astonishing numbers. By the end of the year, the battle had claimed more than 700,000 victims. The butchery had little impact on the course of the war, and Verdun soon became the most potent symbol of the horrors of the war in general, and of trench warfare in particular.

Ian Ousby offers a radical, iconoclastic reevaluation of the meaning and import of this cataclysmic battle in The Road to Verdun . Moving beyond the narrow focus of most military historians, he argues that the French bear a tremendous responsibility for the senseless slaughter. In a work that merges intellectual substance and great battle writing, Ousby shows that the roots of the disaster lay in the French national character–the grandiose, even delusional way they perceived themselves, and their relentless determination to demonize Germans, which began in the debacle of the Franco-Prussian War. Ousby analyzes the generals’ battle plans, and provides a graphic, gripping account of the deprivations and inhumane suffering of the troops who manned the trenches. His incisive, moving descriptions make it painfully clear why the influential French critic and poet Paul Val?ry called Verdun “a complete war in itself, inserted in the Great War.”

In telling the story of Verdun, Ousby demonstrates that the confrontation marked a critical midpoint in Franco-German hostility. The battle not only carried the burden of history, but with the presence on the battlefield of France’s future leaders–including Pétain and de Gaulle–it fed an increasingly venomous enmity between France and Germany, and lay the groundwork for World War II.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, World War I, Military History, France, Military Fiction, European History

416 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2002

About the author

I an Ousby's life began - and ended - in tragedy. The birth was tragic, or at least bleak, because his army officer father had been stabbed to death in the India of 1947, independence year, while his mother was pregnant with him. The death was tragic, or at least deeply sad, because his industry, insight, versatility, critical and literary skills, which had created a considerable reputation for him as a writer in diverse fields, have been cut off by cancer at the relatively early age of 54.
Ousby never seemed a very contemporary figure and eschewed fashion and fashions of all kinds. Mannered and slightly languid - but not eccentric - in speech and dress, he was an essentially shy man who was able, through the clarity of his thought and the manner of his expression, to get trenchantly to the heart of the matter, somewhat like a 19th-century essayist but without a hint of the dilettante. As writer, scholar and broadcaster, his contributions ranged through several genres: the study of detective fiction, travel, literature and modern French history among them. His readers were far flung: his book on the American novel was translated into Russian, on detectives in fiction into Japanese.
Born in Marlborough, Wiltshire, he had a reputation as a rebel at school, Bishop's Stortford College. A young and liberal headmaster was not quite liberal enough for Ousby, and he fulminated in the school magazine, of which he was editor, against the public schools as "the last institutions in which changes in national attitude, thought or social pattern are reflected". An active member of CND from his early teens, he would go on the Easter marches, and proselytised in the provinces for the newly published Private Eye.
Yet all this was misleading. Pitchforked into American student unrest at the end of the 1960s when he went to Harvard for his doctorate, he found the radicalism unpleasant and the time-wasting unacceptable. Writing from Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1972, he observed: "Mercifully, political consciousness seems to have diminished, so they [the students] won't be going on strike all the time."
The author of several books on early tourism and of Blue Guides to Literary Britain and Ireland (1985), England (1989) and Burgundy (1992), he had most recently been working on a major study, The Road to Verdun: France, Nationalism and the First World War, news of which has been greeted with excited anticipation in the world of books, and which will be published early next year. As a young man Ousby had quoted Martin Luther King approvingly: "You can never get rid of a problem as long as you hide the problem." In private life, like many or most of us, he probably failed to live up to that; in his writing, he triumphantly exemplified its message.

Biography source:http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/2001/a...

Reviews

[Dimitri · Rating 3 out of 5]

Buyer beware: his book is NOT a classic study of the battle of Verdun (February-October 1916) and has a distinct schizophrenic feel. Ousby did not set out to write a battle history, but couldn’t properly examine the mentality surrounding Verdun without dipping a toe in the trenches.

Unfortunately, the two halves don’t quite come together, even if the middle chapters that concern themselves with the fight proper also focus with martial vocabulary such as tenir, cran & défaillance which was applied liberally in inspiring communiqués to the troops, yet at the same time maintained the divide between themselves and the world outside the battlefield. Such language was also a brick in the wall built by the censor to shield the home front from reality, and part of the military justice jargon which ensured obedience to the civil government by mandatorily witnessed executions pour encourager les autres .

Surely, these are interesting subjects, which are touched upon lightly in traditional military history. The keen eye can even spot a few technical facts that Horne* left out. While the wear and tear on the German heavy artillery is presented as a factor in Von Falkenhayn’s change of plans halfway through the battle, (resulting in the extension of the zone of attack to both banks of the Meuse), but this didn’t come as a surprise to him: his meticulous preparations listed not only narrow gauge railways and battalion-sized Stollen but also repair shops to replace recoil springs and barrels. Pétain, on the other side, was an early proponent of central grouping (corps level or higher) to maximize heavy firepower as needed.

The surrounding chapters on pre-war mentality are nevertheless the most interesting, with special attention paid to Ernest Renan’s 1882 lecture ”Qu'est-ce qu'une nation?” which Ousby describes as one of the few 19th century texts on nationalism that remains relevant into the 21st. He razes the remaining rethoric ruthlessly: French theory spoke more in terms of ‘damsel in distress’ and the undivided country, while German scripture centered on the themes of Blut und Boden and the continued rivalry between both nations dating back to Louis XIV. Both sides misrepresented Alsace-Lorraine for their own purposes. The region was neither wholly French nor Fully German, with distinct regional languages.

*The Price of Glory: Verdun 1916 by Alistair Horne

[Betsy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I would probably give this book a 3.5 rating if possible because the part on the battle itself is quite well done, but I must admit that the 'philosophical' angle left me tepid. I realize that some people find it interesting, however, I frankly admit I'm not one of those people. I think the author wanted to do more than just recount the battle, which is fine, but I suspect most of those who fought there were just happy to have survived. It was left to the politicians and the authors to try to make sense of the unexplainable. They were still trying to explain Verdun 20+ years later when the Germans marched into Paris.

On this, the 102nd anniversary of the opening day on the Somme, it can be hard to understand why nations would allow themselves to be in such a position. Britain, France, and Germany sacrificed their young men in cataclysmic numbers at Verdun and the Somme, and kept doing it for two more years. Sadly, you can't help but wonder if they would have kept fighting to the last man.

[Jamie Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Douaumont, to judge from the Paris press during the battle of Verdun, mattered and did not matter; it was an asset and a liability. Its loss was no defeat to speak of, yet its recapture would be a great victory. If it were recaptured tomorrow the French would have cause for national celebration, yet if it remained in German hands they need not worry.” (p. 117)

Only half of this book is about the battle itself. The rest, as the title says, is about the road to Verdun, a social and political history of France between 1870 and 1914. Readers looking for a purely military history will be disappointed, and some of the reviews of the book reflect that. However, Verdun was not just a battle, it was a line in the sand, a complicated statement about France’s view of itself that far surpassed any purely military value the battlefield might have possessed. Ils ne passeront pas.

For all its emotional significance, it was understood to be inconsequential as a military objective.

Certainly it is difficult to identify any great practical value in the ground of Verdun in 1916. Neither side seriously claimed it held such value. Neither the Germans in their wildest hopes nor the French in the wildest fears really believed that Verdun was the key that could unlock the way to Paris. (p. 43)

Understanding why the French were willing to throw every man they had into the battle for what they knew was a minor strategic position is what the book is actually about, and Ian Ousby unravels the complex social, political, and military imperatives behind it. In his proposal for the battle German general Erich von Falkenhayn had said he intended to “bleed France white” by forcing them to defend Verdun to the last man, and while in the end Germany bled as much as France, he was right that the French would take up the challenge.

In Attrition: The Great War on the Western Front – 1916, Robin Neillands writes, “The capture of Douaumont took less than four hours and cost the 24th Brandenburg Regiment just 32 men killed and 40 wounded. It was later estimated that French losses resulting from the fall of Douaumont, or incurred in its recapture many months later, amounted to around 100,000 men.”

Fort Douaumont was the emotional center of the battle for the French, but the losses retaking it, however horrific, account for only part of battle’s total toll. Estimates vary widely, but a generally accepted figure for the combined French and German casualties between February and December 1916 is 305,440 dead out of 708,777 total.

To understand the Battle of Verdun you have to start with the Franco-Prussian war. There is an old saying that wars are easier to get into than to get out of, and France went to war in 1870 for the most trivial of reasons, because Napoleon III was insulted by a telegraph which Bismark had intentionally altered to offend him. The French, as the inheritors of the Napoleonic tradition, considered themselves the warrior race of Europe, and were certain that they would quickly put the Prussians in their place.

In Charles Williams’ biography of Philippe Pétain (Pétain, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005, p.14) he writes

Few in France had taken the growing military power of Prussia at all seriously. Admittedly, the Prussian victory over the Austrians at Königgrätz in 1866 had sparked off a process of reform of the French army. But the reforms were far from complete by 1870. It was still the general opinion of Paris society that the Prussians were “dim-witted, beer-drinking, pipe-smoking peasants, led by inexperienced officers good only at military theory.”

It was a disaster for the French. Napoleon III was no Napoleon, and his armies were defeated, surrounded, and forced into humiliating capitulations. The government collapsed so completely that the Germans had trouble finding anyone with authority to negotiate peace terms. Germans marched through Paris, the provinces of Alsace-Lorraine were lost, a huge indemnity was levied, the Paris Commune took control of the city until it was bloodily suppressed, and the French government and military were ridiculed worldwide as hopeless incompetents.

From that point on the driving force for France became revanch, or revenge. There were, however, some serious obstacles in the way. For one, France had both a lower population and a lower birthrate than Germany. For another, numerous political parties, from the far left to the far right, fragmented the vote, resulting in weak coalition governments that came and went rapidly, so there was little continuity in military policy and budgeting. Germany, on the other hand, was ruled by the Kaiser, who rarely needed to concern himself with the wishes of the Reichstag, and thus was able to fund continuous military expansion.

To counter this the French military adopted a policy of élan, or more colloquially, le cran (“guts”). It became official doctrine that courage, determination, and perseverance could overcome any foe. Dubious facts were put forth to support this, such as asserting that fully laden soldiers could cover fifty yards of open ground in twenty seconds, while it would take the enemy thirty seconds to respond to the attack. In fact, the Germans were able to bring their machine guns into action in eight. In addition, while the British had adopted khaki uniforms based on their experiences in the Boer war, and the Germans wore field gray, attempts to change the French uniform from its traditional Napoleonic era dress of blue jackets and red trousers met fierce resistance and were shouted down with cries of “Le pantalon rouge, c’est la France!”

The result, of course, was horrendous slaughter when World War I arrived. In contrasting the French casualties at Verdun to the rest of the war, Ousby says

The figures do not in themselves make Verdun the “worst” battle of the war. Statistically, the French losses do not even make it their worst battle in 1916: Frenchmen died at the Somme between July and November at a far more murderous rate. Nor was 1916 their “worst” year in the war. That doubtful honor belonged to 1915, the year of the French attacks in the Champagne and Artois, when about 335,000 men died, compared with the 218,000 for all of 1916. And the worst period of the war for France (as for all the other combatant nations) was not a full year at all but the four opening months of fighting at the tail end of 1914, when about 307,000 Frenchmen died.” (p. 7)

Of those killed in the early fighting, as the French army flung itself again and again against German artillery, machine guns, and entrenched infantry, 75,000 died in the first three weeks of the war, including 27,000 in one day, on August 22nd.

By 1916 most formations had switched to horizon blue, although many reserve units still entered the battlefield in the old uniform. What had not changed was le cran, which had been drilled into the generals since back when they were cadets. They ordered one attack after another, even in hopeless tactical situations, and even after the units were so depleted they were useless. The only general who understood the new methods of war was Pétain, whose motto was le feu tue, firepower kills. He believed in careful reconnaissance, strong artillery preparation, and limited objectives. He was very successful, and earned the title Savior of Verdun, but the other generals thought him too timid, and after two months he was disgusted to learn that he was being promoted from command of an army to army group commander, which meant he no longer had day to day control of the battle. His replacement immediately went back to constant attacks regardless of casualties.

There is a story, perhaps apocryphal, of General Mangin at Verdun, who was noted for never visiting hospitals and for being unconcerned about casualties:

“Gentlemen, we attack tomorrow,” he was supposed to have announced on one occasion:
“The first wave will be killed.
“The second also.
“And the third.
“A few men of the fourth will reach their objective.
“The fifth wave will capture the position.
“Thank-you, gentlemen.”
(p. 276)

In July the Battle of the Somme started, which caused the Germans to halt attacks in Verdun in order to transfer men and artillery to the new battle. The French continued to hammer away, gradually recovering the forts and most of the ground they had initially lost. It was a great emotional and symbolic victory for France, but as a military objective it was not worth a fraction of the lives it cost.

The larger theme of Verdun and its importance to France goes to the heart of the French vision of themselves and their society in the aftermath of the Franco-Prussian war.

Like everything about Verdun, [Fort Douaumont] had become a symbol; indeed, it lay close to the heart of the entire symbolism of Verdun. Its loss echoed the losses that France had suffered as a result of the Franco-Prussian War – the city of Metz, the rest of the annexed provinces – and reverberated with them in the imagination, summing up the humiliations which cried out to be avenged.” (p. 274)

Something as emotionally charged as the Verdun battlefield does not answer to reason or objective analysis. The French were willing to pay any price to retake the lost ground because it had come to symbolize France itself. For later generations of students of history, though, it carries the reminder that all victories come at a price, and symbolic victories are usually bought at too high a price in blood and sacrifice to be worth the effort.

[Mikey B. · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very good book

...on the First World War - among the best that I have read.

It does a very good job of connecting past (1870), present (1916) and future. The emotional side of war in the trenches is well brought out by diary excerpts. The leaders as well as the 'Poilu' are described. The impact of the war of 1870 is explained - Verdun is near Metz which at the time was territory occupied by Germany. European antagonisms are well brought out. The historical flow of France and Germany are well documented. This book focuses on the French side much more than the German side.

[Jerome Otte · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ousby’s book is less a conventional military history of the battle of Verdun than a study in the sociology of the war, and has a greater emphasis on questions of “why.” Ousby’s main goal is to explain how the historical events and the rise of nationalism made the battle possible, which is both interesting and at times seemingly irrelevant: if you want to read a history of the battle of Verdun that includes Julius Caesar, the Gauls, the Franks, Louis XIV, Louis XVI, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Napoleon III, this is the book for you.

Once you get past the confusing and poorly written prologue (which, absurdly, is more than fifty pages long), Ousby finally gets around to the story of Verdun, examining the origins of the battle before getting into a narrative of the battle itself. Ousby’s narrative of the battle itself is not very in-depth as far as military operations are concerned; much of it deals with psychology of the battle, such as the desperation of the French. Much of the book also deals with how French nationalism developed, meaning the reader is treated to unexpectedly in-depth discussions of the French Revolution, the Franco-Prussian War, and the role that Germany’s “violation” of the strategically insignificant but psychologically vital area of Alsace-Lorraine played in the formation of French attitudes toward themselves and toward Germany. This part of the book can drag quite a bit and has a rambling tone, and Ousby ultimately fails to make any direct connection between Verdun and French nationalism. While Ousby’s writing is mostly readable, it also suffers from his habit of jumping around chronologically and his curious word choice (like calling territory “debatable” rather than disputed).

Eventually, Ousby finally gets around to the actual battle: how it began, how it bogged down as the Somme battle got underway, how French morale sagged following their near-victories, and how French soldiers reacted to the seeming stupidity of their commanders and the ignorance of the media and public. The effect of Verdun on the French army was especially profound since almost three-fourths of the entire French army served at Verdun at one time or another, creating a certain bond among survivors and wounded. Ousby also demonstrates the absurdity of the battle---the French could, theoretically, have retreated to more advantageous terrain in the rear, and Falkenhayn did not set any defined objective for the German forces, for example. Ousby does not however, provide much detail on tactics or logistics. It is also heavily focused on the experience of soldiers, with little coverage of decisions made at higher levels. He also argues that tales of German atrocities in the war have been exaggerated, even if many recent historians have accepted them as truthful, albeit on a narrower scale than any of the Entente’s propaganda organizations alleged. Nor does he tell us much about the German side of the battle. He does, however, do a fine job describing the chaos of the battle and the confusion of the commanders, and his discussion of the political chaos in France is particularly tongue-in-cheek.

An interesting, well-written, and engaging book, although keep in mind that this is certainly not a standard battlefield history, and more of a study of nationalism and its effect on the conflict. The slow narrative, dry writing, and plain oddities (even the index is confusing), will certainly tax your interest and muddle your understanding of Ousby’s argument.

[Dave Hoff · Rating 2 out of 5]

A hard read about a battle fought in trenches for years costing thousands of lives, it was finally won by the Americans 3 days before the Armistice. My interest was because my dad, an ambulance driver in the U.S. Army was attached to the French Army div. "Cock of Verdun" wearing a red rooster on his shoulder. He arrived at the battlefield after the Armistice was signed.

[Andreas · Rating 5 out of 5]

The title "The Road to Verdun" should be understood in two ways it is used in this book; the description of the events leading up to the war itself and the battle of Verdun in 1916. The authors therefore describes events like the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71 and the annexation of Alsace and Lorraine in detail, as well as the fight for the last remaining supply road (voie sacree) from the rear to the city and forts of Verdun. I think the book is doing a great job providing the reader with the necessary background information on why both armies were willing to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of men for these few square miles of French soil. Whoever is looking for a detailed day to day description of the battle should buy another book, but personally I greatly enjoyed reading it.

[Eric · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not just a book about a battle, Ousby concisely presents modern French history (especially from 1870-71 to WWI) giving an excellent presentation of the relationship between France and the Germanic states and how their relationship effected their behaviour and the developments on the battlefield in WWI.
Describing the lot of the French soldiery as well as the key leaders and their interaction on the wider Western Front I found this book to be a fantastic read!

[Tim · Rating 4 out of 5]

It would be difficult to review such a complex book as this, but the feeling I got by the end was that if Verdun was influenced by the fiasco of the Franco Prussian War, then the Fall of France in 1940 was the ultimate victory of the German Army. Verdun tore the heart out of the French Army. The poilus no longer trusted their Commandants.

[Matthew · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rather dry but an interest case on the national mood that led France to make mistake after mistake in World War I, culminating in the massive deaths at Verdun. Revenge for 1870, the inability to tactically retreat, and the belief that elan could defeat machine guns led to more deaths than was necessary, or so argues this aut

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

A "modern"-style history -- very light on the "what" and big into the psychology of Verdun. As you see by the two-star rating, I didn't like it much. But I did like the same author's history of mystery-writing.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

How was a battle like Verdun possible? The question has been answered often in its political, military, and technological aspects, but here Ian Ousby sets out to find its social origins.

At first this might sound odd, but consider that about 70% of the French army was rotated through the meat grinder of Verdun during the battle of February to December 1916 with at least 150,000 dying there and leaving the front line little changed. Why did men put themselves through this?

We know that politics and the alliance with Russia brought France into the war. We know that the military movements of August and September 1914 gave the front line its shape and gave the allies the poisoned chalice of the initiative. We also know that developments in military technology in preceding decades had given the advantage on the battlefield to the defence.

But what drove men forward into hails of machine gun fire time and time again? Why did men living with the permanent possibility of vapourisation by artillery shell not break in greater numbers than they did? These questions are less explored and Ousby goes searching for the answers in an examination of French social life from the Franco-Prussian War to 1916.

Ousby's book, his last before his early death, is a bold and fascinating thrust into new ground on the historiography of the battle and the war itself.

[Kristi Thielen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Densely written but excellent book about one of the most horrific battles of all times: the historical underpinnings, why it was fought, how officers and men prepared to fight it, what they experienced as opposed to what they expected to experience and most important of all, what it came to mean in the national mythology of the French and German people.

That the battle of Verdun - that the Great War - led to loss of life that is staggering, isn't a revelation to anyone who has read about World War I. Even so . . . .an especially chilling inclusion by Ousby and a statement about the bloody work of warfare is present in the content of a briefing that French general Charles Mangin is said to have once given his officers.

"Gentlemen, we attack tomorrow.
The first wave will be killed.
The second also.
And the third.
A few men from the fourth will reach their objective.
The fifth wave will capture their position
Thank you, gentlemen."

[Maduck831 · Rating 4 out of 5]

liked it, at first didn't like that the middle chapter moved away from the battle but after going over my notes and reading the prologue i came to appreciate it...imo don't read this without some knowledge of ww1 and verdun...i admittedly didn't know much about verdun going in which might have impacted my initial reaction...while a lot of great ideas are looked at, part of me wishes the author would've just spent time on "one theme" and explored it...i do like that i got some good sources for the french perspective, been missing that (i don't think the author is french, referring to the sources he cites)...overall a good read, recommended...

[Rob Barry · Rating 3 out of 5]

I felt that the author appropriately addressed what I had expected. Specifically, to invite the reader to consider whether Verdun was a vindication or indictment of militant nationalism.

The author's narrative kept me engaged and fired my imagination. For example, the imagery associated with a small French unit moving to the front: "They're the next course; it'll be time to serve another before long, since the ogre has a taste for sport."

Well worth the time spent in considering this author's work.

[Oliver Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Deeper and more illuminating than a simple battlefield account, this is an excellent and incisive analysis of the powerful force that is nationalism - and its dangers, exemplified by the Battle of Verdun. The novel does have a few quirks, though: its sole focus is the French (the German perspective is hardly considered), and the mid-volume analysis of the post-1870 French national psyche may have fit better at the start of the novel.

[David Bisset · Rating 5 out of 5]

Death and Glory

The book describes the way to Verdun from the Franco-Prussian, the battle itself and the aftermath. It is a British recount, but its spirit is very French. It is literary, psychological and even philosophical. This is not conventional military history, but the narrative is profoundly moving and frequently enlightening. The fall of Verdun in 1940 is a sobering fact: and even more the role of Petain as hero of Verdun and also the anti-hero of Vichy France.

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nationalism, WWI, and mass slaughter demonstrated, and pretty aptly explained.

[Maciej Graczykowski · Rating 3 out of 5]

"War destroys any conception of goals, including any conceptions of the goals of war. It even destroys the idea of putting an end to the war."

[Stephen Durrance · Rating 5 out of 5]

More than just a pure history/study of the battle of Verdun. An astoundingly interesting book.