A war of words: the cultural meanings of the First World War in Britain and Germany

Abstract

'Dear Mum and Dad, and dear loving sisters Rosie, Letty, and our Gladys,-I am very pleased to write you another welcome letter as this leaves me. dear Mum and Dad and loving sisters, I hope you keeps the home fires burning. Not arf. The boys are in the pink. Not arf. Dear Loving sisters Rosie, Letty, and our Gladys, keep merry and bright. Not arf.' 56 'So why is there a war at all?' asks Tjaden. Kat shrugs. 'There must be some people who find the war worthwhile.' 'Well, I'm not one of them,' grins Tjaden. 'No, and nor is anybody else here.' …. Dead men are hanging in the trees. In one of them a naked soldier is squatting in the branches; his helmet is still on his head, but otherwise he has nothing on. There is only the top half of him up there, a head and body with the legs missing. 'What happened there?' I ask. 'Blown out of his uniform,' grunts Tjaden. …. The dead man is lying on his face. The earth is black from the blood underneath the arm sockets. The ground is scuffed by his feet, as though he went on kicking for a while. 'It's no joke, Kat,' I say. 'Nor is a bit of shrapnel in the guts,' he says with a shrug. 'The main thing is not to let it all get to you,' adds Tjaden.