Demented Kitty Misc

Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August has been part of the research for my series of novels. A resounding and all but immediate recommendation from a loved one was echoed and supported by another. I asked Jason on the phone what he thought of Barbara Tuchman, that I hadn't read anything of hers. Anyone sitting near him at the time should be glad that he didn't have a mouthful of coffee or the like. He performed the verbal equivalent of a spit take as it was.

I've since done a bit of research not only on the first World War but also on Ms. Tuchman. I must read more of her books. That is a requirement. Air for breath. Calories for fuel. Tuchman for thought.

Guns breaks a key portion of The Great War into a few sections and is painted with quotes, troop positions, and political reactions in such a way that they neither comprise all of or bog down the narrative. Ms. Tuchman clearly chose carefully what information to include, the legitimacy of the source, and weaved events together so those tidbits punctuate the story. I've seen other historians write in a similar fashion but none of those texts match The Guns of August for poignancy and flair without feeling superfluous.

Exhibit A is taken from a latter chapter of Guns.

So close had the Germans come to victory, so near the French to disaster, so great, in the preceding days, had been the astonished dismay of the world as it watched the relentless advance of the Germans and the retreat of the Allies on Paris, that the battle that turned the tide came to be known as the Miracle of the Marne. Henri Bergson, who had once formulated for France the mystique of "will," saw in it something of a miracle that had happened once before: "Joan of Arc won the Battle of the Marne," was his verdict. The enemy, suddenly halted as if by a stone wall springing up overnight, felt it too. "French élan, just when it is on the point of being extinguished, flames up powerfully," wrote Moltke sorrowfully to his wife during the battle. The basic reason for German failure at the Marne, "the reason that transcends all other," said Kluck afterward, was "the extraordinary and peculiar aptitude of the French soldier to recover quickly. That men will let themselves be killed where they stand, that is a well-known thing and counted on in every plan of battle. But that men who have retreated for ten days, sleeping on the ground and half dead with fatigue, should be able to take up their rifles and attack when the bugle sounds, is a thing upon which we never counted. It was a possibility not studied in our war academy."