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From the City, from the Plough (1948)

par Alexander Baron

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722368,633 (4.04)1
Battle has its own strange chemistry. The courage and endurance of a group of men is greater than the sum total of the courage and endurance of the individuals in the group; for, when most of the group have reached the limits of human endeavour, there is always one among them who can surpass those limits, who will hold the others together and drive them on. It is not the romantic picture of war; but it is the truth of war. In January 1944, on the south coast of England, the Fifth Battalion, Wessex Regiment, wait patiently and nervously for the order to embark. There is boredom and fear, comedy and pathos as the men--all drawn from different walks of life--await the order to move. With an economy of language that belies its emotional impact, From the City, From the Plough is a vivid, unflinching account of the fate of these men as they embark for Normandy and advance into France, where the battalion suffers devastating casualties.… (plus d'informations)
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An engrossing depiction of life in a battalion of ordinary British soldiers in World War Two, written soon after the war by a British ex-soldier. It is, essentially, a pseudo-memoir in novel form as Alexander Baron drew heavily from his own experiences and observations (read Sean Longden's exceptional introduction and afterword for more insight). The book is often highly-praised by war veterans who say Read this. This is what it was like." Not being someone who has experienced such things, I cannot vouch for this, but I have to say that nevertheless I found the battle scenes intense and horrific in a way I have never experienced before in the written word.

The prose is sparse (Baron is one of those gifted writers who has more to say in the white spaces between the lines than in the lines themselves) and it is told in a matter-of-fact way that strongly reminded me of the interviews and anecdotes given by World War Two veterans that I have often heard and read in numerous history books. There is no indulgent lyricism or high-minded language, which suits the remorseless and unsentimental, almost confessional, narrative. This is not to say that the prose is poor; it contains a number of evocative phrases - my favourite being the British soldiers watching, on the night of D-Day, the brutal enemy artillery "gun-flashes tearing the darkness apart." (pg. 121).

Baron observes the war with the cynical, unromantic eye of the honest Tommy; when the commander rouses the men in the final battle, it is not with a Shakespearean "ye lucky few" type speech, or even a regimental battle-cry, but with kicks, with yells, and above all, by setting an example to the ragged men and leading from the front. When two characters debate their duty and obligations it is not followed by outpourings of patriotism or hatred for the enemy. Rather, as one of them explains to the other, it's like when, back at home, you're told by your ma to run to the shops for a loaf. You get up and go, then come back. It's just something that has to be done (pg. 105). It's one of the most profound and unassuming (and accurate) reflections on the soldier's duty that I have ever come across.

It is a book packed with emotional power; scene after scene of raw humanity. The heartbreaking moments do not always come in battle; indeed, one of the most affecting scenes is of a choir of grateful French schoolchildren singing 'God Save the Queen' to the weary soldiers in broken English (pg. 155). But the battle scenes are the highlight, without a doubt. Though few, they made a deep impression on this reader. It is in these moments when Baron's detached yet paradoxically intimate narrative voice is at its best. Much as a seasoned soldier would, the narrative deals with death and injury in a matter-of-fact way; major characters are suddenly gone, or crippled, and the narrative quickly moves on, just as a fellow soldier on a battlefield would in passing such scenes. As I alluded to above, the final battle scene is one of the most intense scenes I have experienced in the written word, and I felt genuine heartache as the soldiers are repeatedly put through the wringer. Incoming artillery fire is considered one of the most horrific and nerve-wracking experiences that an infantry soldier can go through, and the men of the 5th Wessex, these pieces of "soft, human flesh clad only in khaki serge, with the angry splinters of steel whining among them" (pg. 176) endure it repeatedly in one of the most brutal battles of the Normandy campaign. In these moments, it is the little things that make the prose add up to more than the sum of its parts. For example, we witness the losses on the British side to the relentless artillery fire, which is "like waves sweeping away the clusters of men clinging to the mainmast of a sinking ship" in a storm (pg. 183), and Baron notes that all this is happening before the British even catch sight of the German helmets (pg. 180). He doesn't dwell on this detail, but attentive readers will notice it and find it heartbreaking.

Another powerful technique that Baron employs towards the end is that he stops using the names of his characters: we are not told who survives the battle, we are only told of "the men of the Fifth Battalion", now alarmingly depleted in number and in energy. This might sound unacceptable and off-putting to someone who has not read the book, feeling that the story may lack in resolution, but it is an extraordinarily powerful way to end. Maybe we're not told who survives because, as Longden suggests in his introduction, it is pointless - even if they did survive that battle, they probably wouldn't survive the next one. I would perhaps suggest that we're not told who survives because no one whose name we have been told has survived. It is a disturbing thought, and a truly poignant way to end the book." ( )
  MikeFutcher | Jun 3, 2016 |
England, Frankrig, 1944
Wessex regimentets femte bataljon (ca 845 mand) bliver fyldt op af en blanding af værnepligtige og kamphærdede inden afgang til Frankrig. Vi følger korporal Charlie Shuttleworth, yngste og mindste mand på 19 år Alfie Bradley, hans kæreste Floss, major Noel Norman, oberst Pothecary, major Maddison. Maddison træner mændene hårdt og nyder bagefter at stå og se på de nøgne mænd i badet. En af de menige, Charlie Venerable, deserterer for en stund og vender så med vilje tilbage tids nok til at komme med til D-day. Løjtnant Paterson på 22 år. Sergent Ferrissey. Sergent Shannon.
Efter 14 kapitlers opbyggen går de i land i Normandiet, men ikke i første angrebsbølge. Alfie bliver ramt i øjnene og bliver blind. Shuttleworth træder på en mine, mister højre fod og forbløder fordi ingen stopper blødningen. Delingsfører Challis, korporal Gonigle, menig Gotham, menig Martin. Gotham bliver såret, men i stedet for at lade sig evakuere finder han tilbage til sin deling, der på stedet tilgiver ham al den brok, han har ladet dem høre den sidste måneds tid.
En bliver dræbt af en tank, der kommer til at mase ham mod en væg. "Dræbt i kamp." Sikken en vittighed. Scannock Labskovs er lidt af en fordrukken slapsvans, men til gengæld kampvant og uden frygt. Korporal Meadows bliver helt henrykt for Scannock og tilsvarende liver Scannock gevaldigt op efterhånden som han bliver vellidt af de andre. Han organiserer cigaretter og forplejning.
I en uges tid kæmper de sig langsomt frem og mærker modstanden blive mindre indædt og hård. De får et par dages tiltrængt hvile bag linierne og bliver så sendt i kamp igen.
De trænger videre ind i landet i løbet af den næste måned. Oberst Pothecary er for glad for sine folk og pines over hvert tab, så han bliver taget af bestillingen. Maddison får flere af sine soldater slået ihjel ved at optræde dumdristigt, så til sidst sørger sergent Bender for at han bliver dekoreret med en gang maskinpistolkugler. Bender er selv såret og bliver fløjet hjem og ingen siger en lyd om hvordan Maddison kom af dage.
I august 1944 er der kommet fart på den allierede fremrykning. De når frem til en velbefæstet stilling (Mont Pinçon) hvor de skal forsøge at tage en stor bakke (400 m), hvorfra tyskerne kan kontrollere hele omegnen. Oberst Pothecary går i spidsen og bliver skudt ned uden besvær af et tysk maskingevær. Det var så hans måde at slippe for at tage ansvar for den fortsatte nedslagtning af bataljonens soldater. Brigadegeneralen overtager og sætter Norman til at forcere bataljonens fremrykning. Det lykkes faktisk. Som tak får de lov at tiltrække ilden fra bakken nogle timer endnu indtil en anden bataljon kan indtage den anden flanke.
Da bakken er indtaget, er der foruden Norman og tre officerer kun 92 soldater tilbage. Brigadegeneralen siger pænt tak og har lige et job mere. En antitankstilling i en landsby, Den bliver nedkæmpet på en times tid, men med yderligere hårde tab.
Tanksene ruller nu uhindret gennem landsbyen med kurs mod Tyskland.

'5th Wessex' tropperne er fiktive, men baseret på 5th Wiltshires og romanen kulminerer med kampene om Mont Pinçon, der er overmåde blodige. Ud af de 36 officerer, der landede med 5th Wiltshires i Frankrig i den sidste uge af juni 1944, var der kun 2 tilbage i maj 1945. ( )
  bnielsen | May 3, 2015 |
2 sur 2
'Every scene is alive with humour and pity, with a deep controlled fury, with the stuff of life itself...every word in this tough, taut, yet profoundly expressive writing has a job to do, and does it...This book left me mentally numb for a week...Get this book and read it...insist on having it...it is magnificent'
ajouté par Polaris- | modifierTribune
 
'robust and honest without being sensational, warm-hearted without being sentimental, stimulating without being slick'
ajouté par Polaris- | modifierNew Statesman
 
'A war book that is the real thing'
ajouté par Polaris- | modifierDaily Telegraph
 
'A fine and moving book'
ajouté par Polaris- | modifierNew York Times
 
'Conveys, unabated, a sense of quiet reality'
ajouté par Polaris- | modifierTime
 
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Battle has its own strange chemistry. The courage and endurance of a group of men is greater than the sum total of the courage and endurance of the individuals in the group; for, when most of the group have reached the limits of human endeavour, there is always one among them who can surpass those limits, who will hold the others together and drive them on. It is not the romantic picture of war; but it is the truth of war. In January 1944, on the south coast of England, the Fifth Battalion, Wessex Regiment, wait patiently and nervously for the order to embark. There is boredom and fear, comedy and pathos as the men--all drawn from different walks of life--await the order to move. With an economy of language that belies its emotional impact, From the City, From the Plough is a vivid, unflinching account of the fate of these men as they embark for Normandy and advance into France, where the battalion suffers devastating casualties.

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