A recent area of historical interest has been the history of reading and reading practices. In pursuing the history of reading, it has been argued that it is important to consider and understand ‘what, where, how, and why people read, and that these factors are in a constant state of flux.’ (Miriam Intrator, ‘Avenues of Intellectual Resistance in the Ghetto Theresienstadt: Escape Through the Central Library, Books, and Reading’, Libri, 54 (2004), p. 245) David Finkelstein and Alistair McCleery further add that reading can be seen as a social phenomenon with different readers in different periods and contexts deriving different meaning from their reading. (David Finkelstein and Alistair McCleery, An Introduction to Book History, p. 25). Jonathon Rose comments in the opening paragraph of his The Intellectual Lives of the English Working Classes that it is important to try and ‘enter the minds of ordinary readers in history, to discover what they read and how they read it’. (p. 1)
A history of reading and readers in wartime offers a particularly useful way of looking at how particular contexts can shape our reading practices and experiences. The evidence left by servicemen in particular through their letters, diaries and memoirs allows us some insight into a group of what we might call “ordinary” readers who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.
Why did soldiers turn to reading in the context of military life and war? One of the primary motivations was boredom. As David Goodhart wrote in his memoir of the Second World War, ‘It has been said that life in the Army is made up of months of extreme boredom followed by moments of extreme fear. And although that does not state the case, it does get somewhere near it.’ (p. 48) Goodhart’s sentiment is expressed in a range of other sources from those who have experienced war. Boredom was a product of the average soldier’s situation and varied depending on their job and location; such boredom was not just about the lack of anything to do, but was also a product of many men failing to find meaning in what they did while in the army or other service.
One important function of reading in the context of war was that it could help facilitate psychological resilience and endurance. The psychological impact of war and combat has been well documented, and increasingly scholars have been trying to examine the various factors that enabled some soldiers to maintain a measure of psychological resilience in the debilitating context of combat. One part of this was the link reading made between men and home. Soldiers often read to connect themselves to home, unsurprisingly a phenomenon common across the wars. Letters from home were always the most cherished: John Raws wrote home in 1916 to a friend that letters were ‘such a comfort’ and frankly admitted that ‘the horrors [of the war] one sees and the neverending shock of the shells is more than can be borne.’ (Raws Papers, Australian War Memorial) In the Second World War and the Vietnam War, little changed: Philip John Hurst, a Lance Bombardier in the artillery in WWII, was wounded in the Greek campaign, and when eventually receiving a collection of mail, he remembers the thrill he felt: ‘No mail for eight weeks and then a flood. My loved ones had not forgotten me but had kept waiting and hoping to hear from me … I took days to read it all.’ (Hurst Papers, Australian War Memorial) When Australian postal workers went on strike in 1969 to protest the Vietnam War, soldiers were very angry. James ‘Ned’ Kelly commented that ‘[m]ail from home was regarded as sacred … [it] was a boost to the spirit in a world where killing took priority.’ The postal strike, he thought, was ‘hitting way below the belt.’ (D.J. Dennis, One Day at a Time: a Vietnam Diary, p. 70) There were few soldiers in Vietnam who did not consider mail from home as vital.
Newspapers too helped reinforce this connection to home and were an essential part of Australian soldiers’ reading. First AIF soldier Bob Bice recorded his thrill in reading papers from his home town of Nowra, writing in a letter that ‘[a] person far from home finds even the advertisements of his home town very interesting reading.’ (Lee Mills (ed.), Letters from the Front 1914-1918). Jack Ison avidly read newspapers from Dubbo, commenting, ‘Why they make a man wish he was home, and not trying to calculate the depth of the Flanders mud…’ (Letter 17 October 1917, Jack Ison, Dear Da… Letters from the Great War 1914-18, written by and concerning Jack Ison, 1565 3rd Battalion AIF – KIA 10/11/17). Reading and receiving books could also often connect soldiers to home. Soldiers requested Australian reading material whenever they could. C.J. Dennis’ The Sentimental Bloke and other volumes were overwhelmingly popular in the First World War. One Victorian soldier returning from war presented his copy of Ginger Mick to Dennis himself and told him it had been through the hands of all his comrades. ‘He passed over a copy of Ginger Mick. It was broken-backed, dog-eared, and heavily stained by the mud of the Somme, but all its pages were still intact’. (Alec Chisholm, Life and Times of CJ Dennis) Receiving a book from home (whether it was Australian or not) helped to remind soldiers of what they had left behind and what they were fighting for. Many soldiers received books sent directly from family and friends at home and would often share their reading experiences with those at home. Soldier C. Grenville noted receiving ‘a book of views of Perth’ from his mother and reflected in his letter home to her, ‘Its great to have a look at the dear old City even if it is only on paper. Time has flown, fancy it is just about a year and nine months since I left WA. Hope it is not that long before I return’. (Letter 22 November 1916, Boans to the Battlefields: a Collection of Letters written by Boans staff and Friends During the First World War 1914-1918, p. 51)
In the Second World War, Len Williams, a RAAF pilot, regularly read magazines and newspapers sent to him by his parents. While he does not comment on which magazines were sent to him, they were, he noted in a letter to his father, ‘very welcome’. (Letter to his father, 2 December 1941, K. Williams (ed.), Letters to Mother from a WWII RAAF Pilot, p. 81) Geoffrey William Hassell, another pilot with the RAAF, thanked his parents for a parcel of books from home commenting, ‘[s]ome books about home will sure be a happy change after the eternal Steinbeck, Du Maurier, etc’; he was particularly keen to read some good books about Australia. (Letter 10 March 1945, Geoffrey William Hassell, An Unfinished Diary of Impressions, p. 70)
Newspapers, even though usually over a week old or more by the time they reached soldiers serving in Vietnam, were important as connections to home and as sources of news from Australia. Peter Thornton Murray asked his wife to send newspaper cuttings to him, commenting that he was keen to ‘know what the public are being told’. (Letter 5 April 1968, Papers of Peter Thornton Murray, Australian War Memorial) He noted that his men usually only received newspapers that were three to four weeks old and so the cuttings were appreciated. In May 1968, Murray was putting the cuttings up on the common noticeboard. ‘[T]he lads enjoy reading them’, he wrote home, ‘[k]eeps everyone in the picture on the war. We only know what is happening on the local scene and it is particularly interesting to see how the papers report our doings.’ For Frank Benko, also serving in 1968, news from home was unsettling as it became clear there was a growing anti-Vietnam War movement. (F. Benko, 730 and a Wakey, p. 270) By contrast to previous wars, where news often provided a positive means of conveying support from home to troops serving abroad, Benko’s experience suggests that the divided sentiment about the war conveyed in newspapers became a source of concern for Australian troops in Vietnam and possibly had some impact on their morale.
Continued: What novels did soldiers read in wartime?