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After signing an armistice agreement on 22 June 1940, Adolf Hitler placed the German army in charge of occupied France and ordered the military government to supervise the Vichy regime and maintain security. Viewing World War II as a struggle between nation‐states, the military commander in France, Otto von Stülpnagel, cultivated French support, placed industrial resources at the disposal of the German war effort, and maintained ‘security’ by capturing enemy soldiers and Allied spies. Initially barred from the Hexagon, Göring's Office of the Four Year Plan, Himmler's SS, and Ribbentrop's Foreign Office adopted an expanded definition of security, argued that the Reich had to combat the so‐called Jewish conspiracy to maintain order, and secured Hitler's favor. In conjunction with Alfred Rosenberg and the French government, they launched an anti‐Semitic campaign of defamation, discrimination, and despoliation. Hitler used assassinations as a pretext for genocide and ordered subordinates to answer resistance activity with deadly reprisals and massive deportations that focused on Jews. Stülpnagel condemned anti‐Semitic measures and disproportionate hostage executions as impolitic distractions and resigned his command. Astute political tactics helped the Himmler seize control of German security forces but alienated the military government and, later, the Vichy regime. With limited support from French and German colleagues, the SS could only deport 75,000 French Jews: Fritz Sauckel's labor organization impressed approximately 850,000 workers into the German war economy by cooperating with French and German colleagues. Accommodation explains divergent results of select German policies, clarifies the inner workings of the Nazi regime, and elucidates decisions made by Prime Ministers Pierre Laval and François Darlan.

From 1649–1660 England was ruled by a standing army for the only time in its history. The nature of that military rule was far more complex and nuanced than has traditionally been appreciated. This book describes the nature of that rule, both for members of the army and for civilian society. The first part of the book describes the character of the army by looking at the life that officers and soldiers led, the promotion structure, and the ways in which political engagement changed to provide a sense of the day-to-day reality of being part of a standing army. The second part of the book considers the impact of the military presence on society by establishing where soldiers were quartered, how they were paid, the material burden that they represented, the divisive effect of the army's patronage of religious radicals, and the extensive involvement of army officers in the government of the localities. The final part of the book re-evaluates the army's role in the political events from Cromwell's death to the restoration of the Stuart monarchy, and explains why the army crumbled so pitifully in the last months of the Commonwealth. The book casts new light on: the changes in the army between 1649–60; Cromwell's control of the army; the co-existence of political ideals and a professional ethos among army officers; the place of the major-generals in English history; the attitude of the political nation to a standing army; the army's support of religious radicals; the reasons for the fall of the Commonwealth.

The veterans of the Fourteenth Army who fought in Burma between 1942 and 1945 called themselves ‘the forgotten army’. But that appellation could equally well be applied to the whole of the British army after 1945. Histories of Britain's post‐war defence policy have usually focused on how and why Britain acquired a nuclear deterrent. This book takes a new look at it by placing the army centre‐stage. Drawing on archival sources that have hardly been used by historians, it shows how British governments tried to create an army that would enable them to maintain their position as a major world power at a time when their economy struggled to foot the bill. The result was a growing mismatch between the military resources that the government thought it could afford on the one hand, and a long list of overseas commitments, in Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and the Far East, that it was reluctant to surrender. The result was that the British created a Potemkin army, a force that had an outwardly impressive facade, but that in reality had only very limited war‐fighting capabilities.

This book presents a “shared” history of Asian involvement in the Great War from non-national and transnational perspectives. Asian involvements make the Great War not only a true “world” war but also a “great” war. The war generated forces that would transform Asia both internally and externally. Asian participation transformed the meaning and implications of the broader conflict. The First World War was in fact a defining moment that shaped worldviews and developments across Asia. This book is also meant to be a step in recovering memories of the war and re-evaluating the war in its Asian contexts. The Asians’ part in the war and the part the war played in the collective development of Asia represent the first steps of the long journey to full national independence and international recognition. This book aims to bring the Great War more fully into Asian history and Asians into the international history of the war with hope that this book helps the people of Asia develop a better understanding of their shared history through the Great War in order to lay the groundwork for a healthy and peaceful journey into a future that will only be shared, not lived separately.

During the 1970s, hundreds of thousands across Western Europe protested against civil nuclear energy. Nowhere were they more visible than in France and Germany—two countries where environmentalism seems to have diverged greatly since. This book recovers the shared, transnational history of the early anti-nuclear movement, showing how low-level interactions among diverse activists led to far-reaching changes in both countries. Because nuclear energy was such a multivalent symbol, protest against it was simultaneously broad-based and highly fragmented. ‘Concerned citizens’ in communities near planned facilities felt that nuclear technology represented an outside intervention that potentially threatened their health, material existence, and way of life. In the decade after 1968, their concerns coalesced with more overtly ‘political’ criticisms of consumer society, the state, and militarism. Farmers, housewives, hippies, anarchists, and many more who defied simple categorization joined forces to oppose nuclear power, but the movement remained internally contradictory and outwardly unpredictable—not least with regard to violence at demonstrations. By analysing the transnational dimensions, diverse outcomes, and internal divisions of anti-nuclear protest, this book provides an encompassing and nuanced understanding of one of the largest ‘new social movements’ in post-war Western Europe and situates it within a decade of upheaval and protest. Drawing extensively on oral history interviews as well as police, media, and activist sources, this book tells the story of the people behind protest, showing how individuals at the grassroots built up a movement that transcended national borders as well as political and social differences.

This is the story of the Black and Tans and Auxiliaries — the most notorious police forces in the history of the British Isles. During the Irish War of Independence (1920–1), the British government recruited thousands of ex-soldiers to serve as constables in the Royal Irish Constabulary — the Black and Tans — while also raising a paramilitary raiding force of ex-officers — the Auxiliary Division. From the summer of 1920 to the summer of 1921, these forces became the focus of bitter controversy. As the struggle for Irish independence intensified, the police responded to ambushes and assassinations by the guerrillas with reprisals and extrajudicial killings. Prisoners and suspects were abused and shot, the homes and shops of their families and supporters were burned, and the British government was accused of imposing a reign of terror on Ireland. This book, based on extensive archival research, is the first serious study of the Black and Tans and Auxiliaries and the part they played in the Irish War of Independence. It examines the organization and recruitment of the British police, the social origins of police recruits, and the conditions in which they lived and worked, along with their conduct and misconduct once they joined the force, and their experiences and states of mind. For the first time, it tells the story of the Irish conflict from the police perspective, while casting new light on the British government’s responsibility for reprisals, the problems of using police to combat insurgents, and the causes of atrocities in revolutionary wars.

During the Korean War nearly a thousand British servicemen, along with a handful of British civilians, were captured by North Korean and Red Chinese forces. In various camps in the vicinity of Pyongyang and villages along the Yalu River these men found themselves subjected to a prolonged effort by the enemy to undermine their allegiance to the Crown and enlist them in various propaganda campaigns directed against the UN war effort. This is the first academic study to examine in detail exactly what happened to the major groups of British military and civilian prisoners held in different locations at various junctures between 1950 and 1953. It explores the extent to which factors such as exposure to the actions of the North Koreans as against the Red Chinese, evolving physical conditions, enemy re-education efforts, communist attempts at blackmail, British attitudes towards the Americans, and personal background and leadership qualities among captives themselves influenced the willingness and ability of the British prisoners to collaborate or resist. Thanks to the availability of hitherto classified or underutilized source materials, it is now possible to test the common popular assumption—based on official accounts and memoirs from the 1950s—that, in marked contrast to their American cousins, British captives in the Korean War were pretty much immune to communist efforts at subverting their loyalty. The results suggest that British attitudes and actions while in enemy hands were rather more nuanced and varied than previously assumed.

‘The experience of numerous small wars has provided the British Army with a unique insight into this demanding form of conflict.’ (Ministry of Defence, 2001). Over the next decade these claims unravelled spectacularly in Iraq and Afghanistan, and this book suggests that one reason for that was because contemporary British counter-insurgency doctrine was based upon a serious mis-reading of the past. Many observers believed that during their wars of decolonisation in the two decades after 1945 the British had discovered how western liberal notions of right and wrong could be made compatible with the imperatives of waging war amongst the people, that force could be used effectively but with care, and that a more just and prosperous society could emerge from these struggles. By using only the minimum necessary force, and doing so with the utmost discrimination, the British were able to win by securing the 'hearts and minds' of the people. But this was a serious distortion of actual British practice on the ground. The main contention of this book is that the British hid their use of naked force behind a carefully constructed veneer of legality. In reality they commonly used wholesale coercion, including cordon and search operations, mass detention without trial, forcible population resettlement, and the creation of free-fire zones, to intimidate and lock-down the civilian population. They were nasty, not nice, to the people amongst whom they were operating.

Though only one among hundreds of prison camps in which British servicemen were held between 1939 and 1945, Colditz enjoys unparalleled name recognition both in Britain and in other parts of the English-speaking world. Made famous in print, on film, and through television, Colditz remains a potent symbol of key virtues-including ingenuity and perseverance against apparently overwhelming odds-that form part of the popular mythology surrounding the British war effort in World War II. Colditz has played a major role in shaping perceptions of the prisoner-of-war experience in Nazi Germany, an experience in which escaping is assumed to be paramount and ‘Outwitting the Hun’ a universal sport. This book chronicles the development of the Colditz myth and puts what happened inside the castle in the context of British and Commonwealth POW life in Germany as a whole. Being a captive of the Third Reich-from the moment of surrender down to the day of liberation and repatriation-was more complicated and a good deal tougher than the popular myth would suggest. The physical and mental demands of survival far outweighed escaping activity in order of importance in most camps almost all of the time, and even in Colditz the reality was in some respects very different from the almost Boy's Own caricature that developed during the post-war decades. This book seeks to place Colditz-both the camp and the legend-in a wider historical context.

Crimea in War and Transformation examines the capacity of violence to permanently alter peoples and spaces.The war named for Crimea began as a border dispute between Russia and the Ottoman Empires in 1853, but transferred unexpectedly to Crimea in September 1854 after European Allies joined forces with the Sultan. In the course of one day, belligerent armies doubled the peninsula’s population and pressed the local population into labor. Within one month, ravenous men fell upon orchards like locusts, and slaughtered Crimean livestock. For more than one year, engineering brigades mowed down forests to build barracks. Both sides of the war used scorched earth tactics. At the apex of violence, desperate Russian officials scapegoated Crimea’s native Muslim population, accusing these and other civilians of hoarding food and collaborating with the enemy. Before humanitarian impulses prevailed, officials initiated a deadly deportation, forcing thousands of Tatars from their homes.

Dachau was the most enduring and important of the concentration camps set up in the first months of Hitler’s rule. It was a bastion of the Nazi ‘revolution’ and a key springboard for the ascent of Heinrich Himmler and the SS to control of the Third Reich’s terror and policing apparatus. Throughout the pre-war era of Nazi Germany, Dachau functioned as a national academy of violence where SS concentration camp personnel were schooled in steely resolution and the techniques of terror. An international symbol of Nazi depredation, Dachau was the cradle of a new and terrible spirit of destruction. Combining new research on the pre-war history of Dachau with theoretical insights from studies of perpetrator violence, this book offers the first systematic study of the ‘Dachau School’. It critiques assumptions about concentration camp violence being the linear product of individual pathologies—whether of ideological zealots or mindless sadists—by exploring the backgrounds and socialization of thousands of often very young men in the camp. The book analyses recruitment to the Dachau SS and evaluates the contribution of indoctrination, training, masculinity, and social psychology to the conduct and subsequent careers of concentration camp guards. Graduates of the Dachau School would go on to play a central role in the wartime criminality of the Third Reich, particularly at Auschwitz. The book makes an original contribution to understanding both the pre-history of the Holocaust, and the social and institutional organization of violence.

During the Second World War British intelligence provided politicians and soldiers with invaluable knowledge; Britain was determined to maintain this advantage following victory. But the wartime machinery was uneconomical and unwieldy, and unsuitable for peace. Drawing on oral testimony, international archives, and private papers, this book provides the first history of the hitherto little-known organization designed to preserve and advance British capability in military and military-related intelligence for the Cold War: the Joint Intelligence Bureau. Headed by General Eisenhower’s wartime intelligence man, Major General Kenneth Strong, the JIB was central to the mission to spy on and understand the Soviet Union, and the broader Communist world. It did so from its creation in 1946 to its end in 1964, when it formed a central component of the new Defence Intelligence Staff. This book reveals hitherto hidden aspects of Britain’s mission to map the Soviet Union for nuclear war, the struggle to understand and contain the economies of the USSR, China, and North Korea in peace and during the Korean War, and the urgent challenge to understand the nature and scale of the Soviet bomber and missile threat in the 1950s and 1960s. The JIB’s dedicated work in these fields won it the support of some politicians and military men, but the enmity of others who saw the centralized organization as a threat to traditional military intelligence. The intelligence officers of the JIB waged Cold War not only with Communist adversaries but also in Whitehall.

A key duty of Renaissance monarchy was the defence of the subject. For the English monarchy, the rule and defence from enemies beyond the long-landed frontiers in Ireland and the English far north proved an intractable problem. It was not, however, a duty which was accorded a high priority by successive Yorkist and early Tudor kings, nor is it an aspect of state formation which has attracted much attention from modern historians. This study assesses traditional arrangements for defending English ground, the impact of the frontier on border society, and the way in which the topography and patterns of settlement in border regions shaped the character of the march and border itself. The study focuses on two English shires, Meath and Northumberland, in a period during which the ruling magnates of these shires who had hitherto supervised border rule and defence were mostly unavailable to the crown. Unwilling to foot the cost of large garrisons and extended fortifications, successive kings increasingly shifted the costs of defence onto the local population, prompting the border gentry and minor peers to organize themselves through county communities for the rule and defence of the region. This strategy was generally successful in Ireland where the military threat presented by ‘the wild Irish’ was not so formidable, but in the English far north Tudor reform, centralized control, and the burden of defence against the Scots soon led to ‘the decay of the borders’.

The period 1902–14 was one of great change for the British army. The experience of the South African War (1899–1902) had been a profound shock to the army and it led to a period of intense introspection in order to determine the strengths and weaknesses of the force. As a result of a series of investigations and government-led reorganization, the army embarked on a series of reforms to improve its recruitment, standards of professionalism, training, and preparation for war. Until now many of the studies covering this period have tended to look at the army in a top-down manner and have often concluded that the process was extremely beneficial to the army, leading it to be the most efficient force in Europe by the outbreak of war in 1914. This study takes a different approach. It takes a bottom-up perspective and examines the many difficulties the army experienced trying to incorporate the reforms demanded by government and the army’s high command. It reveals that although many good ideas were devised, the severely overstretched army was never in a position whereby it could act on them, and that few regimental officers had the opportunity, or even the desire, to change their approach. Unable to shake off the feeling that the army’s primary purpose was to garrison and police the British Empire, it was by no means as well prepared for European continental warfare as many have presumed.

The militia was a key institution in Georgian England, and arguably one that was very characteristic of its age. A ‘militia’ is an informal military organization made up of part-time civilians rather than professionals. As an island, Britain had historically relied on forces of this type for home defence, but threats of a French invasion during the Seven Years War (1756–63) highlighted that the militia had fallen into disrepair and prompted calls for its revival. This book re-examines the debates on the militia, and argues that this military reform was informed and driven by concerns about politics, nationalism, and gender. The militia tells us a great deal about the political culture of the eighteenth century, which was suspicious of professional armies and executive power, and which placed great emphasis on the liberties and masculine attributes of the ordinary citizen. Its advocates even suggested that mass military service would prompt a reinvigoration of English masculinity. The Militia Act passed into law in 1757. From this date until the New Militia’s slow demise after the Napoleonic Wars, this book thinks about civilian men’s experience of military service. How was the militia ‘embodied’—both in the contemporary sense of assembling for service, and also as a gendered bodily experience? Chapters explore questions such as physical training, masculine honour, material culture, self-identity, and citizenship.

This book reframes the Great War as a global war among empires, rather than a European war among nation-states. It expands the history of the war both in time and in space. First, this book shows how the fighting between 1914 and 1918 was part of a continuum of conflict that began with the Italian invasion of Libya in 1911 and did not end until the Lausanne Treaty of 1923, when a new order was in place not just in Europe and the Middle East but also in Asia and Africa. Second, this book argues that if we take the conflict seriously as a world war, we must, a century after the event, adopt a perspective that does justice more fully to the millions of imperial subjects called upon to fight for empire, to theatres of war that lay far beyond Europe and, more generally, to the wartime roles and experiences of innumerable peoples from outside the European continent.

Covering the period from the late 1930s up to the spring of 1940, this book offers the first systematic comparison of how two countries, Britain and France, responded to the possibility and then reality of total war by examining developments in three dimensions: strategic, domestic political, and political economic. To date, studies of French and British policies during this period have focused almost exclusively on diplomatic and military events. Yet because 20th-century war demanded a massive effort on the part of nations and societies, its study requires a broader approach, one that encompasses the political, social, and economic dimensions as well as the links between them. Using a wide array of archival and secondary sources, including the records of government departments, trade unions, business groups, and political parties, this book demonstrates that the British were more successful in managing the strains of modern industrial war than the French. Whereas in France political, economic, and military developments combined to produce a multi-faceted crisis by early 1940, imperilling the war effort against Germany, developments in Britain followed a different course that laid the political and economic foundations for a long war. The book addresses such current historical debates as the nature of the political Right and Left in Europe during the 1930s, the extent of rearmament and economic mobilization, and the causes of France's defeat in 1940. As an extended comparison of how two liberal democracies met the challenge of war, it also addresses debates concerning the relationship between democratic regimes and capabilities for war, the influence of domestic versus systemic factors on national policies, and the nature and relative performance of different types of political economic regimes.