Douglas Haig and the First World War
by JP Harris
Cambridge University Press, £25
AFTER reading about Douglas Haig’s background, character and leadership two things become clear. One was how well British and Empire forces did in spite of him. The other is how accurate his portrayal in Blackadder Goes Forth was.
Born into the wealthy, privileged, upper class family of the eponymous whisky firm, Haig joined the Army late after dallying at Oxford. His rise was hardly meteoric. He remained a junior officer for many years, excelling in military administration but always believing he was destined for higher things. Yet his commands in colonial wars were hardly the stuff of heroes, legends or charismatic leaders. He was no Gordon, Roberts or Kitchener but by the end of 1918 he was commander-in-chief on the Western Front, a post he achieved as much by sly political manoeuvring and by knowing the right people – to whit King George V – as by merit.
Paul Harris, Sandhurst senior lecturer in war studies, goes into impressive detail in this extremely interesting, well researched and readable study. He has had access to Haig’s papers and official records and dispatches of the time as well as the many books already written about a man whose name became synonymous with carnage on an industrial scale.
This book is a dispassionate and detailed analysis of the battles fought under Haig’s leadership. Harris covers his initial commands, in which he did not cover himself in glory, and brings his own military expertise to bear to give us a real understanding of what made the man tick. Crucially, he brings to life the arrogance of the leader and gives an insight into Haig’s self-belief that at times beggars our belief. For example, Haig chose to believe the military intelligence which supported his view that the German Army was permanently on the brink of collapse even when it was clear to everyone else that this was not the case.
The price of this arrogance, as the war memorials in every part of the UK tell us, was carnage on a previously unimaginable scale. Places like Ypres, the Somme, Arras, Cambrai and Passchendaele are now written into history as the slaughter of a generation of doomed youth.
But, equally, Harris analyses Haig’s strengths. His belief in victory drove the military forward. His willingness to embrace new battlefield technology, notably the tank, played an important part in breaking the stalemate of trench warfare. And that self-belief, which meant that he sailed perilously close to the wind with his military and political commanders back home, also meant he led the Army to a new approach which led to victory.
Harris’ judgement of Haig is, ultimately, critical but fair. He arrives at it through careful analysis and detailed interpretation. This really is the definitive book on Haig, his actions and his legacy.
Andrew Dodgshon
