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Isaac Schomberg (1753–1813) had a controversial career in the Royal Navy. Although he distinguished himself at the relief of Gibraltar and the battles of St Kitts and the Saintes, his aggressive temperament and scholarly interests meant he was a poor choice to serve as first lieutenant under the petulant, pleasure-seeking future William IV. Schomberg's career never recovered after they clashed. Retiring to Wiltshire in 1796, he began this long-planned chronology of the Royal Navy. Published in 1802, with detailed descriptions of engagements, events on board, and politics at home, as well as an appendix of facts and figures stretching back to the origins of the Senior Service, this five-volume work remains a classic source of naval history. Volume 1 begins with an overview of naval forces under the Romans and early English monarchs, before presenting a year-by-year chronology up to 1779.
Inspired by the lectures in Munich of the German orientalist Karl Friedrich Neumann, Thomas Taylor Meadows (1815–68) devoted himself to the study of Chinese in 1841, with the aim of entering British service. He arrived in China early in 1843 and rose quickly to the post of consular interpreter at the key treaty port of Canton (Guangzhou), where he remained for several years. His Desultory Notes on the Government and People of China, and on the Chinese Language (1847) is also reissued in this series. The present work, first published in 1856, is an expansive treatment of matters relating to 'the present Chinese rebellion', namely the Taiping Rebellion (1850–64). Meadows discusses the ongoing conflict within its historical and cultural context, offering also observations and recommendations on Anglo-Chinese relations. He closes with a lengthy disquisition on the nature and state of 'civilization' in the East and West.
This book focuses on one of the most remarkable phenomena of World War II: the mass participation of women, including numerous female combatants, in the communist-led Yugoslav Partisan resistance. Drawing on an array of sources - archival documents of the Communist Party and Partisan army, wartime press, Partisan folklore, participant reminiscences, and Yugoslav literature and cinematography - this study explores the history and postwar memory of the phenomenon. More broadly, it is concerned with changes in gender norms caused by the war, revolution, and establishment of the communist regime that claimed to have abolished inequality between the sexes. The first archive-based study on the subject, Women and Yugoslav Partisans uncovers a complex gender system in which revolutionary egalitarianism and peasant tradition interwove in unexpected ways.
As first mate aboard an East India Company vessel, James Horsburgh (1762–1836) was shipwrecked in the Indian Ocean in 1786 after faulty charts steered the ship onto a reef. Thereafter he devoted himself to the production of accurate charts of the eastern seas, keeping meticulous notes on extensive voyages, and carefully scrutinising the accounts and journals of other mariners. For his efforts, Horsburgh was elected to the Royal Society in 1806, and appointed hydrographer to the East India Company in 1810. The present work, reissued here in its two-volume first edition of 1809–11, remained a standard navigational reference for half a century (it was aboard the Beagle during Darwin's famous voyage). For given locations, it provides a description of the area and landmarks, and lists prevailing winds and currents, as well as any navigational hazards. Volume 1 covers mostly places on the sailing route to India, via Brazil and the Cape of Good Hope.
Isaac Schomberg (1753–1813) had a controversial career in the Royal Navy. Although he distinguished himself at the relief of Gibraltar and the battles of St Kitts and the Saintes, his aggressive temperament and scholarly interests meant he was a poor choice to serve as first lieutenant under the petulant, pleasure-seeking future William IV. Schomberg's career never recovered after they clashed. Retiring to Wiltshire in 1796, he began this long-planned chronology of the Royal Navy. Published in 1802, with detailed descriptions of engagements, events on board, and politics at home, as well as an appendix of facts and figures stretching back to the origins of the Senior Service, this five-volume work remains a classic source of naval history. Volume 2 covers the period 1780–96, and includes the 1795 list of county quotas for supplying naval personnel, as well as details of the American Revolutionary War and the Bounty mutiny.
Isaac Schomberg (1753–1813) had a controversial career in the Royal Navy. Although he distinguished himself at the relief of Gibraltar and the battles of St Kitts and the Saintes, his aggressive temperament and scholarly interests meant he was a poor choice to serve as first lieutenant under the petulant, pleasure-seeking future William IV. Schomberg's career never recovered after they clashed. Retiring to Wiltshire in 1796, he began this long-planned chronology of the Royal Navy. Published in 1802, with detailed descriptions of engagements, events on board, and politics at home, as well as an appendix of facts and figures stretching back to the origins of the Senior Service, this five-volume work remains a classic source of naval history. Volume 3 covers a golden era for the Royal Navy, 1797–1802. Horatio Nelson came to the fore, but the period also saw the infamous mutinies at the Nore and on the Hermione.
In the previous chapters, we have seen how religious life in America's armed forces in World War II was shaped and influenced by their chaplaincy systems, by their commanders, traditions and institutional cultures, by political imperatives surrounding the draft, and by a plethora of concerned civilian organisations. We now turn to the sixteen million men and women who served during the war, the overwhelming majority of whom were not military professionals and whose wartime religious outlook and experience owed at least as much to their civilian backgrounds as to the conditions of service life. Consequently, this chapter shows how key features of civilian religious life were reflected in the military, sometimes to a degree that belied the image of the US Army in particular as an all-American melting pot. Hence, this chapter will draw attention to such constant factors as the relative religiosity of Catholics, of African Americans and of women, the fundamental importance of home and family to American religious life, and the effects of inducting large numbers of the religiously committed into the army and navy. The chapter also examines how devotional tastes and religious traits – notably hymn-singing, scripture-reading and self-reliance – translated into military life and even flourished under wartime conditions. Finally, it illustrates the limits to which the military environment could influence civilian habits and preconceptions, showing that the insistent military rhetoric of religious tolerance was often much more in evidence than its reality, and that the cross-currents of religious conflict posed a persistent problem throughout the war years.
Civilian imprints
Despite the efforts of the chaplaincy services, the American armed forces in the interwar years had not been widely recognised for their piety and clean-living. While soldiering in particular, with its oppressive emphasis on conformity and subordination, was widely regarded as ‘a fundamentally un-American activity’, the mores of army life were hardly those of respectable society. Paydays at army posts were often marked by binges of gambling and drinking (the latter unchecked by Prohibition), and by the descent of droves of prostitutes. As if to highlight the army as a staging post to hell, at Clark Field an illicit gambling racket was even run by an erstwhile Franciscan who was known to his clients as ‘Padre’.
TEN years after the end of World War II, the Jewish theologian and sociologist Will Herberg published Protestant–Catholic–Jew, a seminal study of religion in contemporary America. As Herberg saw it, and although there had been no federal census of religious bodies since 1936, there was every indication that organised religion was booming by the mid-1950s. ‘That there has in recent years been an upswing of religion in the United States can hardly be doubted’, he wrote, ‘the evidence is diverse, converging, and unequivocal beyond all possibilities of error.’ With Protestantism, Catholicism and Judaism now functioning as ‘equi-legitimate’ expressions of American religion, a prime indicator of national religious vitality was the pervasiveness of religious self-identification. When requested to state a religious preference, ‘95 per cent of the American people’ chose to identify themselves as Protestants, Catholics or Jews; in other words, so Herberg explained, ‘virtually the entire body of the American people, in every part of the country and in every section of society, regard themselves as belonging to some religious community’. Nor did the irreligious – or simply reticent – pose any kind of threat to this strong religious consensus, for the dominant trend of religious belonging had ‘led to the virtual disappearance of anti-religious prejudice’; as Herberg put it: ‘The old-time “village atheist” is a thing of the past, a folk curiosity like the town crier.’
However, the key indicator of what Herberg billed as ‘The Contemporary Upswing in Religion’ was the growing number of Americans who were now deemed to be church members. By 1953, they amounted to 59.5 per cent of the population, ‘marking an all-time high in the nation's history’. However, even this landmark statistic failed to do justice to the true vitality of American religiosity for, as Herberg stressed, ‘considerably more Americans regard themselves as church members than the statistics of church affiliation would indicate’.
CHAPLAINS and other interested parties could find much to reassure them concerning the religious state of the American serviceman or woman. Atheists were rare (even non-existent in military cemeteries) and, quite apart from combat and other experiences, the American military environment seemed to promote a greater religious consciousness. Furthermore, and in contrast to the brutal example set by other armed forces, America's soldiers and sailors could be admirable exponents of the Golden Rule, and even of the Christian missionary impulse, among Allied, liberated and even enemy civilians. Nevertheless, and as the experience of World War I had recently shown, military service in the context of a global war was inherently hazardous from a moral point of view, the path of the American serviceman and woman being strewn with perils and pitfalls of enormous variety and Bunyanesque proportions. As a result, the moral conduct of a great many service personnel gave considerable cause for concern, often falling disturbingly short of contemporary civilian norms and standards. With this in view, and when assessing the effects of war on faith and morals, John W. Early, the Lutheran senior chaplain of the 79th Infantry Division, wrote after VE day:
The moral and religious life of personnel serving in the European Theater has been impaired somewhat, because of the close association with all types of men, the increased opportunities for misuse of sex and alcoholic liquors, and the hatred and contempt that was encouraged for the rights of conquered individuals. Evidence of this is to be found in the number of rape cases reported or noted, the shipment of loot by all grades of personnel, the size of PTA accounts and money orders sent, the operations of Civil Affairs Groups in liberated and occupied countries, and the unchristian motivation of Psychological Warfare Division personnel.
This chapter will consider the moral experience of military service, and consider its religious implications both in the shorter and the longer terms.
Morality and military service
Writing in The Link in March 1945, Congregational-Christian chaplain Lawrence D. Graves claimed that a certain proportion of service personnel had sought to place their consciences in a state of suspended animation for the duration of the war, claiming that:
Soldiers have a tendency to rationalize their sub-normal behavior and say, ‘This is on the house; we won't count this one.’
FAITH IN GOD was not a casual part of the lives of the World War II generation. The men and women who went off to war, or stayed home, volunteer that their spiritual beliefs helped them cope with the constant presence of possible death, serious injury, or the other anxieties attendant to the disruptions brought on by war.… On the front lines, chaplains were not incidental to the war effort. Some jumped with the Airborne troops on D-Day and others risked their own lives to administer last rites or other comforting words to dying and grievously wounded young men wherever the battle took them. The very nature of war prompted many who participated in it to think more deeply about God and their relationship to a higher being once they returned home.
So wrote Tom Brokaw, NBC journalist and broadcaster, in the first of three hugely successful paeans of praise to ‘the greatest generation’. Appealing to the ‘simple, shining legend of the Good War’, and to its sense of national unity and purpose undimmed by the doubts and traumas of Vietnam and even Korea, here Brokaw firmly identified a strong religious faith as one of the four distinguishing virtues of the peerless generation born around 1920, namely ‘personal responsibility, duty, honor, and faith’. Captured – with a touch of irony – in the title of Studs Terkel's pioneering oral history The Good War (1984) and celebrated by Stephen E. Ambrose in books such as Band of Brothers (1992) and Citizen Soldiers (1997); by Steven Spielberg in films and television productions such as Saving Private Ryan (1998), Band of Brothers (2001) and The Pacific (2010); and by the acclaimed documentary-maker Ken Burns in The War (2007) – the comfortable assumptions and abiding myths of ‘the good war’ and ‘the greatest generation’ have inevitably triggered a chorus of conflicting narratives and a lengthening list of gainsayers. Impelled by the deception and duplicity inherent in such myth-making, among its most notable and authoritative critics was the late Paul Fussell, an American infantry officer in North-West Europe in 1944–45 and a distinguished literary scholar and public intellectual in later life.
As we have seen, a greatly enhanced form of military chaplaincy formed the centrepiece of religious provision for American service men and women in World War II. However, and although it seems hard to dispute Doris L. Bergen's assertion that ‘World War II marked the high point of the status of military chaplains in the United States’, it must be borne in mind that religious support went much further than formal military chaplaincy. This chapter will show that the American armed forces were, like American society in general, culturally and historically predisposed to support religion, and that this orientation had never been as emphatic as in the years of World War II. It will also demonstrate how chaplaincy was resourced and reinforced by unprecedented levels of material assistance, likewise provided by government, and how the sympathetic orientation of the armed forces also gave full rein to a massive and complementary civilian effort in support of their spiritual wellbeing. Overall, it will show how the underlying religiosity of America's armed forces, although sometimes well hidden, acted as the dominant factor in accounting for positive religious change among American veterans, a change that will be explored more fully in Chapter Four.
Religion and regulations
Religious life in America's armed forces was ultimately regulated by the Constitution and by the Bill of Rights. Article Six of the Constitution states that ‘no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States’; furthermore, and according to the First Amendment, ‘Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.’ Nonetheless, and in common with many other areas of American public life, religious values suffused American military culture. In their respective oaths of enlistment and oaths of office, enlisted and commissioned personnel routinely invoked the help of the Almighty. Furthermore, the free exercise clause of the First Amendment sanctioned military chaplaincy, and its many corollaries, while the historic Articles of War and Articles for the Government of the United States Navy (which remained in force until 1950) were derived from British models that predated the American Revolution and that were informed by a profound sense of religious obligation and Christian morality. However, given the unambiguous terms of Article Six of the Constitution, the army and navy treated issues of religious affiliation with circumspection.
In November 1943, a Lutheran American army chaplain, Israel Yost, baptised seven Japanese-American soldiers in a ceremony in southern Italy. As Yost remembered:
This was a unique event: it took place in an Italian Roman Catholic church converted for the time into an American aid station; the pastor was a German American and the new believers were Japanese Americans; one of the witnesses, Sergeant Akinaka, was a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints (Mormon); the other witness, Doc Kometani, told the converts that this was the most important decision they had ever made.… That evening two of the medics sang Hawaiian songs to guitar accompaniment; they included two hymns in Hawaiian, ‘Leaning on the Everlasting Arms’ and ‘Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me’.
This almost surreal vignette captures in vivid tones the often surprising corollaries of the wartime encounter between a wider world of faith and America's ethnic and religious melting pot. Citizens of a country that was highly regionalised and economically self-sufficient, David Reynolds has remarked that: ‘There was, revealingly, no national newspaper and most Americans had spent little time beyond their home state, let alone visited New York or Washington, D.C.’ Insular and isolationist attitudes had been reinforced in interwar America by the outlook of first- and second-generation immigrants from Europe, who had typically sought to leave the troubles of the Old World behind them. World War II, however, forced many of them to return, albeit temporarily, and created an American military diaspora of vast proportions. In overall terms, about 73 per cent of American servicemen served overseas between 1941 and 1945, with the average sojourn lasting sixteen months. As one veteran and academic commentator wrote in 1946:
During World War II and the subsequent military occupation, American soldiers were dispersed to every corner of the globe. Perhaps eight million [sic] were at one time or another engaged in foreign service. No continent, few countries, and few islands failed to receive at least some military or naval representatives of the United States.
Whether serving in Europe, the Mediterranean, Asia or the Pacific, these peregrinations often had a religious dimension. A few GIs, for example, went as Christian or as Jewish pilgrims to the Holy Land, and a great many more to early Christian sites in North Africa and Italy.