“The hitherto forgotten story of the development of the regimental band, mainly drummers and buglers. A rare piece of social history” (Books Monthly). The Instruments of Battle examines in detail the development and role of the British Army’s fighting drummers and buglers, from the time of the foundation of the army up to the present day. While their principal weapon of war was the drum and bugle—and the fife—these men and boys were not musicians as such, but fighting soldiers who took their place in the front line. The origins of the drum and bugle in the classical period and the later influence of Islamic armies are examined, leading to the arrival of the drum and fife in early Tudor England. The story proper picks up post-English Civil War. The drum’s period of supremacy through much of the eighteenth-century army is surveyed, and certain myths as to its use are dispelled. The bugle rapidly superseded the drum for field use in the nineteenth century—until developments on the battlefield consigned these instruments largely to barrack life and the parade ground. But there are surprising examples of the use of the bugle in the field through both world wars as the story is brought up to modern day and the instruments’ relegation to an almost exclusively ceremonial role. This is all set against a background of campaigns, battles, changing tactical methods, and the difficult processes of command and control on the battlefield. Interwoven is relevant comparison with other armies, particularly American and French. Stories of the drummers and buglers themselves provide social context to their place in the army.

Today, war is considered a last resort for resolving disagreements. But a day of staged slaughter on the battlefield was once seen as a legitimate means of settling political disputes. James Whitman argues that pitched battle was essentially a trial with a lawful verdict. And when this contained form of battle ceased to exist, the law of victory gave way to the rule of unbridled force. The Verdict of Battle explains why the ritualized violence of the past was more effective than modern warfare in bringing carnage to an end, and why humanitarian laws that cling to a notion of war as evil have led to longer, more barbaric conflicts. Belief that sovereigns could, by rights, wage war for profit made the eighteenth century battle’s golden age. A pitched battle was understood as a kind of legal proceeding in which both sides agreed to be bound by the result. To the victor went the spoils, including the fate of kingdoms. But with the nineteenth-century decline of monarchical legitimacy and the rise of republican sentiment, the public no longer accepted the verdict of pitched battles. Ideology rather than politics became war’s just cause. And because modern humanitarian law provided no means for declaring a victor or dispensing spoils at the end of battle, the violence of war dragged on. The most dangerous wars, Whitman asserts in this iconoclastic tour de force, are the lawless wars we wage today to remake the world in the name of higher moral imperatives.

Previous ed.: London: Macdonald & Jane's, 1977.

Battle Hymns

A major new account of the Battle of Jutland based on contemporary sources, examining the influence of technology, tactics and leadership.

In April 1943, a young officer arrived at Penshurst to join ‘C’ Flight, 653 Squadron. He was no ordinary pilot and this was no ordinary RAF outfit. Lyell Munro was a soldier and 653 was an Air Observation Post Squadron whose pilots were Royal Artillery and whose ground crew were RAF. AOP pilots were expert gunners, skilled flyers and incurable rule breakers. Flying from airstrips just behind the front lines, without armament and often with no parachute, they controlled the fire of hundreds of guns and their enemies learnt to dread the sight of the little green Austers in the skies above the battlefield. An incautious movement, a puff of smoke or a chance flash of reflected sunlight could bring tons of high explosives raining down. They flew alone without ground control, scanning the skies constantly while they directed the guns. Closing at over 250mph, an attacking ME 109 left no time for indecision. Reactions had to be instinctive and evasive action instant. Failure was fatal. After the War ended, the survivors went back into civilian life and few histories mention them or what they did. Lyell’s is one of only two personal accounts that are known to exist and it is likely that there will be no more. Written for his family and his comrades in ‘C’ Flight it is a story told without heroics, but with a deep affection for the men with whom he flew and worked.

“A fascinating look into the aircrews used and the effect on those who had to live through this constant bombing” by the RAF during World War II (UK Historian). Berlin was bombed by four Allied air forces between 1940 and 1945. British bombers alone dropped 45,517 tons of bombs, while the Americans a further 23,000 tons. By 1944, some 1.2 million people, 790,000 of them women and children, about a quarter of Berlin’s population, had been evacuated to rural areas. An effort was made to evacuate all children from Berlin, but this was defeated by parents and many evacuees who soon made their way back to the city. However, by May 1945, 1.7 million people—40% of the population—had fled the city. This fitting tribute to those who died in the relentless struggle to knock Berlin, and hopefully Germany, out of the war resonates with eyewitness accounts and background information which the author has painstakingly investigated and researched. The result is a hugely fascinating and highly readable narrative containing very real and unique observations by British and Commonwealth aircrew and, equally importantly, the long-suffering citizens of Berlin, and well as the capital’s defenders. Though not a defeat in absolute terms, in the operational sense The Battle of Berlin was an offensive that Air Marshal Sir Arthur Harris and his aircrews could not win. “Berlin won” concluded Sir Ralph Cochrane, the Air Officer Commanding 5 Group RAF Bomber Command. “It was just too tough a nut.” “An impressively informative, deftly written, exceptionally well documented, and expertly organized history . . . a seminal work of original scholarship.” —Midwest Book Review