A Close Look At War

Born an Englishman, I was a little put off by the first episode of "The War," the seven-part film on the biggest conflict in human history by Ken Burns, the U.S.'s most esteemed documentary filmmaker. It is now being shown on public television.

My feelings toward the episode were due to its one-sentence dismissal of Britain's lone stand against the Axis powers from the fall of France in June 1940 until Hitler invaded the Soviet Union one year later.

If Britain, too, had fallen in 1940, world history for the past 67 years would have been immeasurably different. With Britain out of the way, Hitler would have been free to attack the Soviet Union sooner than he did and with all his forces. He could well have succeeded.

This would have left the U.S. with an awful choice: Remain in isolation and tolerate a triumphant Hitler or try to defeat him with no major ally, no forward base, and with a rampant Japan to the rear.

The next episode, however, convinced me of Burns's wisdom in not trying to produce a comprehensive history. What Burns and codirector Lynn Novak have produced is a telling of the battle front and home front experiences, not of generals, policymakers, and statesmen, but of ordinary citizens. They are from four small American cities that were heavily involved in the war effort—Luverne, Minn.; Mobile, Ala.; Sacramento, Calif.; and Waterbury, Conn.

This approach cost Burns. He was harshly criticized for not originally including stories from Hispanics. He later inserted about a half hour of such coverage. He also had to worry about the words often used by veterans that are now considered too dirty to broadcast.

Be that as it may, "The War" is an insightful account of what men do in war and what it does to them. On the home front, it is an intimate analysis of how the war affected every household. In both cases, it is a warts-and-all report.

The film claims not to glorify or sentimentalize the conflict. On the home front, it tells of an almost universal commitment to the war effort, as well as of some of the darker sides of that effort. On the battle front, the message hammered home is that combat is confusing, heroic, terrifying, extremely bloody, traumatic, inhumane, mind altering, and usually not well-planned. Combat is, indeed, unmitigated hell.

Watching "The War" is not easy. It lasts a total of 15 hours and is only up to episode five as I write this. It is a very heavy story. In addition to detailing the incredible hardships of combat, "The War" also shows a lot of bodies, especially of U.S. soldiers and marines.

Burns's saga also features extensive comments by veterans involved in some of America's military setbacks. One is the mauling of the U.S. Army by German forces in its first major ground action of the war. That was at the Kasserine Pass in Tunisia. Another is the two largely unsuccessful air raids to knock out German ball-bearing production.

On the home front, the film probes the ethnic cleansing of the West Coast of those of Japanese ancestry, many of whom were U.S. citizens; the almost total racial segregation of the U.S. military; and the lethal racial tensions in war factories.

But many of the memories are positive. Almost all are of families contributing to the war effort in some way or another and giving support to their loved ones in the military. There is also the constant concern for those in combat and the fear of the dreaded War Department telegram.

All of this revived my memories of World War II. Born in 1930, I was too young for combat. I lived in the eastern outskirts of London. I remember listening to Winston Churchill's radio addresses. I experienced firsthand the Battle of Britain and the blitz of German air attacks on London in 1940. Later, I watched cruise missiles fly over my home and saw ballistic missiles strike nearby.

I was not traumatized. Millions fared much worse. None of my family was killed, and we were never separated. Our home was damaged but not destroyed. My sister and I were always able to attend school. Everything was rationed. Food was not plentiful, but nobody starved.

If war did not traumatize me, it was nevertheless my early formative life experience. What I took from it in the light of the chaos of war that I witnessed is to be cautious of all authority.

It eventually caused me to become a journalist. It formed my conviction that the primary goal of journalists should not be to be loved by their readers. It must be to earn the respect and trust of readers with stories that are consistently relevant, informative, and credible. This is what I have been striving to do for the past 44 years working for C&EN.