Colonial war played a vital part in transforming the reputation of the military and placing it on a standing equal to that of the navy. The book is concerned with the interactive culture of colonial warfare, with the representation of the military in popular media at home, and how these images affected attitudes towards war itself and wider intellectual and institutional forces. It sets out to relate the changing image of the military to these fundamental facts. For the dominant people they were an atavistic form of war, shorn of guilt by Social Darwinian and racial ideas, and rendered less dangerous by the increasing technological gap between Europe and the world. Attempts to justify and understand war were naturally important to dominant people, for the extension of imperial power was seldom a peaceful process. The entertainment value of war in the British imperial experience does seem to have taken new and more intensive forms from roughly the middle of the nineteenth century. Themes such as the delusive seduction of martial music, the sketch of the music hall song, powerful mythic texts of popular imperialism, and heroic myths of empire are discussed extensively. The first important British war correspondent was William Howard Russell (1820-1907) of The Times, in the Crimea. The 1870s saw a dramatic change in the representation of the officer in British battle painting. Up to that point it was the officer's courage, tactical wisdom and social prestige that were put on display.

Originally delivered as the Callander Lectures at the University of Aberdeen in 1995, this is a survey of the historiography of the environmental history of the British Empire, suggesting new modes of analysis and connections with the Scottish experience.

This collections of essays by leading British and South African scholars, looking at the Boer War, focuses on three aspects: how the British Military functioned; the role of the Boers, Afrikaners and Zulus; and the media presentation of the war to the public.

This book examines the relationship between concepts of heroic "gallantry," as projected by the British honours system, and the sociocultural, political, military and international transitions of the supposed Sixties "cultural revolution." In so doing, it considers how a conservative, hierarchical and state-orientated concept both evolved and endured during a period of immense change in which traditional assumptions of deference to elites were increasingly challenged. Covering the period often defined as "The Long Sixties," from 1955–79, this study concentrates on four distinct transitions undergone by both state and non-state gallantry awards, including developments within the welfare state, class and gender discrimination, counterinsurgency and decolonisation. It ultimately sheds fresh light upon the importance of postwar decades to the continued evolution of concepts of gallantry and heroism in British culture using a range of underexplored government and media archives. It will be of interest to scholars, students and general researchers of heroism in modern Britain, the Sixties revolution, postwar military history and both the social and political evolution of British honours, decorations and medals.

This book investigates the uses of crusader medievalism – the memory of the crusades and crusading rhetoric and imagery – in Britain, from Walter Scott’s The Talisman (1825) to the end of the Second World War. It seeks to understand why and when the crusades and crusading were popular, how they fitted with other cultural trends of the Victorian and Edwardian eras, how their use was affected by the turmoil of the First World War and whether they were differently employed in the interwar years and in the 1939-45 conflict. Building on existing studies and contributing the fruits of fresh research, it brings together examples of the uses of the crusades from disparate contexts and integrates them into the story of the rise and fall crusader medievalism in Britain.

Through a detailed examination of newspaper coverage from 1899-1914, this book seeks to understand the vicarious experience of warfare held by Edwardians at the outset of the First World War. The attitudes towards and perceptions of war held by those who participated in it or encouraged others to do so, are crucial to our understanding of the origins of the First World War. Taking into account media history, cultural studies and military history, Wilkinson argues that the press depicted war as distant and safe; beneficial and desirable and even as some kind of sport or game. We are cautioned to avoid the same misconceptions of war in our own contemporary discussions of armed conflict.

From enlistment in 1914 to the end of service in 1918, British men's bodies were constructed, conditioned, and controlled in the pursuit of allied victory. Physical Control, Transformation and Damage in the First World War considers the physical and psychological impact of conflict on individuals and asks the question of who, in the heart of war, really had control of the soldier's body. As men learned to fight they became fitter, healthier, and physically more agile, yet much of this was quickly undone once they entered the fray and became wounded, died, or harmed their own bodies to escape. Employing a wealth of sources, including personal testimonies, official records, and oral accounts, Simon Harold Walker sheds much-needed light on soldiers' own experiences of World War I as they were forced into martial moulds and then abandoned in the aftermath of combat. In this book, Walker expertly synthesizes military, sociological, and medical history to provide a unique top-down history of individual soldiers' experiences during the Great War, giving a voice to the thousands of missing, mutilated, and muted men who fought for their country. The result is a fascinating exploration of body cultures, power, and the British army.

The battle of Isandlwana on 22 January 1879, the first major encounter in the Anglo-Zulu War, witnessed the worst single day's loss of British troops between the battle of Waterloo in 1815 and the opening campaigns of the First World War in August 1914. Moreover, decisive defeat at the hands of the Zulu came as an immense shock to a Victorian public that had become used to easy victories over less technologically advanced indigenous foes in an expanding empire. The successful defence of Rorke's Drift, which immediately followed the encounter at Isandlwana (and for which 11 Victoria Crosses were awarded), averted military disaster and went some way to restore wounded British pride, but the sobering memory of defeat at Isandlwana lingered for many years, while the legendary tale of the defence of Rorke's Drift was re-awakened for a new generation in the epic 1964 film Zulu, starring Michael Caine. In this new volume in the Great Battles series, Ian F. W. Beckett tells the story of both battles, investigating not only their immediate military significance but also providing the first overarching account of their continuing cultural impact and legacy in the years since 1879, not just in Britain but also from the once largely inaccessible and overlooked Zulu perspective.

Perceptions of the Great War have changed significantly since its outbreak and children's authors have continually attempted to engage with those changes, explaining and interpreting the events of 1914-18 for young readers. British Children's Literature and the First World War examines the role novels, textbooks and story papers have played in shaping and reflecting understandings of the conflict throughout the 20th century. David Budgen focuses on representations of the conflict since its onset in 1914, ending with the centenary commemorations of 2014. From the works of Percy F. Westerman and Angela Brazil, to more recent tales by Michael Morpurgo and Pat Mills, Budgen traces developments of understanding and raises important questions about the presentation of history to the young. He considers such issues as the motivations of children's authors, and whether modern children's books about the past are necessarily more accurate than those written by their forebears. Why, for example, do modern writers tend to ignore the global aspects of the First World War? Did detailed narratives of battles written during the war really convey the truth of the conflict? Most importantly, he considers whether works aimed at children can ever achieve anything more than a partial and skewed response to such complex and tumultuous events.

Singapore fell to Japan on 15 February 1942. Within days, the Japanese had massacred thousands of Chinese civilians, and taken prisoner more than 100,000 British, Australian and Indian soldiers. A resistance movement formed in Malaya's jungle-covered mountains, but the vast majority could do little other than resign themselves to life under Japanese rule. The Occupation would last three and a half years, until the return of the British in September 1945. How is this period remembered? And how have individuals, communities, and states shaped and reshaped memories in the postwar era? The book response to these questions, presenting answers that use the words of Chinese, Malays, Indians, Eurasians, British and Australians who personally experienced the war years. The authors guide readers through many forms of memory: from the soaring pillars of Singapore's Civilian War Memorial, to traditional Chinese cemeteries in Malaysia; and from families left bereft by Japanese massacres, to the young women who flocked to the Japanese-sponsored Indian National Army, dreaming of a march on Delhi. This volume provides a forum for previously marginalized and self-censored voices, using the stories they relate to reflect on the nature of conflict and memory. They also offer a deeper understanding of the searing transit from wartime occupation to post-war decolonization and the moulding of postcolonial states and identities.