points to a fear
that he, the survivor, has been forgotten; left behind in imagination by
the warmachine, and in reality by his brother. Bliss’s wife later recalled:
As the months went by it became clear to me what [Morning Heroes] was
really about. Not so much about war, the emphasis was on courage, on the
v 223 v
The silent morning
heroism of men and women in wars throughout the ages. Heroism, and
waste, and sorrow. And musically Morning Heroes is a unity. Whether the
words come from The Iliad, or Walt Whitman, or a Chinese poet writing
twelve hundred years ago
more playful parody of the prosthetic body.
The prints of Krüppelmappe, consequently, were compared by contemporary
reviewers to Goya’s macabre Horrors of War, and received as a powerful anti-war
protest, deploring the damage to soldiers’ bodies and minds in wartime and
their subsequent impotence and alienation in post-war society. They are critical
of the warmachine which amputated body-parts and mangled minds, and of
the post-war industrial machine which exploited prosthetic surgery to transform
them into an efficient, mindless workforce. It was in this vein that
criticism that such a fiction might encounter. This was the kind of ‘clean’
representation of warfare of which Brussels and Washington can
only dream. No Dutch citizens are caught in crossfire or risk reprisals – this German war-machine is the product of programming
information and not of an economy dependent on slave labour.
The politics of the story are just not an issue. The armchair general
faced with a computer did not have to concern himself or herself
with questions of right or wrong, or separate the good guys from
the bad guys. It all depended, quite literally, on
Hero-worship, imperial masculinities and inter-generational ideologies in H. Rider Haggard’s 1880s fiction
, Men of War; Roper, The Secret Battle.
77 Brown, ‘Cold Steel, Weak Flesh’, pp. 155–81. Also see John Ellis, The Social
History of the Machine Gun (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University
Press, 1975); Pick, WarMachine.
78 Gray, South African Literature, p. 124.
79 See Jeffrey A. Auerbach, Imperial Boredom: Monotony and the British
Empire (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018).
80 Salmon, ‘What Boys Read’, p. 248.
81 Ibid., p. 248.
82 Allan Quatermain (London: Penguin, 1995), pp. 93–4.
• 254 •
comprehensive study of the confederate warmachine.12 The final book
of the quartet, published in 2005, was Robert Armstrong’s masterly study of
the Irish wars from the Protestant point of view.13
The Big Four were complemented by a series of articles covering different
aspects of the period, notably Ó hAnnracháin’s two essays looking at the
Catholic clergy, and his thought-provoking piece on the conflicted loyalties
of the confederates more generally.14 On the Protestant side of the equation,
Ormond came into the spotlight thanks to Armstrong’s study of his peace
as a point of departure to explore the extent and manners in which postwar Italian
futurist artists deployed the machine as a vehicle – quite literally as in this particular
case – of modernity. Dynamic engines of social and constructive engagement, pistons
and carburettors of displacement, of re-envisioned times and spaces, machines are
lodged at the core of the futurist belief in a totalitarian and utilitarian art. Especially
after the First World War, machines become the very syntax and architecture of
futurist aesthetics and ideology.2
Machines are objects in
The War on Terror and the resurgence of hillbilly horror after 9/11
thirty years, and one that that references
amongst others Night of the Living Dead, Deliverance, The Texas
Chainsaw Massacre, Dawn of the Dead, The Hills Have Eyes, Psycho,
The Birds (1963), The Evil Dead (1982), Alien, The Exorcist (1973),
Cujo (1983) and Donnie Darko (2002). Its most notable influence
though is The Crazies, that allegory of Nixon’s involvement in Vietnam I considered in Chapter 3, a film that itself explored the invidious effects of propaganda on the American psyche and underscored
the utter ruthlessness of the American warmachine in the pursuit of
conditions of total mobilisation from 1914 to 1918. This process of medicalisation
included both the militarisation of medicine as well as the militarisation of the
disabled body in Germany’s first ‘total war’. Fundamental to these two developments, however, was the growing participation of medical professionals – in
this instance orthopaedists – in the organisation of the modern ‘warmachine’.
As this book demonstrates, the so-called ‘recycling of the disabled’ was a direct
result of the convergence of multiple war-time processes.
Medicine and war
Given the centrality of
, her brother, and two close friends –
it was also written for those women who had served in wartime, to
ensure that the female voice would be heard, and that one particular
feminine perspective would be understood.
Enid Bagnold: military medicine as part
of the ‘warmachine’
If some wartime nurse writers may be viewed as ‘heretics’ – as individuals who attacked the received wisdom of their day – then Enid
Bagnold is perhaps one of the most skilful and least openly aggressive
of these. Her soft irony and quiet observations evoke a more muted
form of horrified
others decimated as the warmachine
rumbles, ever smiling, on and on. The stage action has had visible
effects as the audience embody their emotions; some cry, others
close their eyes and hang their heads in their hands. And then it
ends. Blackout and silence. A sense of emptiness and exhaustion
Restaged in 2005 in the midst of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan,
this scene evokes links to those conflicts and with wars more
generally. However, the effect it had on the audience suggests
that this theatrical experience presented something that was more