Le Havre, a French port city, appears frequently in the annals of English and British history. It was from here that Louis XV planned to stage an invasion of Britain in 1759. Its neighbour, Harfleur, was besieged by Henry V in 1415 at the beginning of what came to be one of England's most famous military campaigns.Footnote 1 The focus of this article, however, is on events that took place there five hundred years later. Le Havre was transformed by the Great War, albeit temporarily. It became one of the main logistical arteries for the British Expeditionary Force (BEF). No. 1 Base Headquarters were located here and it was a place that, in many soldiers’ eyes, became almost British due to its semi-permanent population of people from the United Kingdom. It was not just demographics that changed the character of the city. During the war (and, indeed, after the Armistice in 1919), a peculiar series of events took place there. In August 1917 and 1918, the BEF's soldiers took over the usually quiet paths and lawns of the park at Jardin St Roche, which the mayor had agreed to loan to the British base commandant for a very particular and unusual purpose. Rather than engaging in battle with the enemy, British soldiers and Belgian military personnel, alongside French civilians, were displaying the fruits (and vegetables) of their more peaceful labours. As part of a programme encouraging the cultivation of unused land around the surrounding camps, a vegetable competition was organized in which it was onions, beets, and kale rather than bullets, grenades, and shells that were the key produce of war. This article will explore the ways in which the organization of these events can throw light on the broader history of the British Army and of the First World War. In doing so, it offers new insights into the functioning of the BEF and the experiences of the men who served in it.
Over the last thirty years, the historical perspective on the BEF in 1914–18 has been nuanced and transformed. In part, this was a natural by-product of the opening of the archives, which have provided scholars with a richer source base from which to interrogate the events that took place in Belgium and France.Footnote 2 The changing historical Zeitgeist has also pushed historians to open new windows onto the conflict. The power of social and later cultural history approaches have been at the core of this shift towards histories focused on the identity and interior worlds of British soldiers.Footnote 3 It is now clear that not only were the home front and western front deeply interconnected, but that the military did not dampen popular culture; in fact, it actively embraced it as a tool for encouraging morale.Footnote 4 Amongst the most enduring statements of this is found in the work of J. G. Fuller. Fuller's Troop morale and popular culture sought to expand upon the literature exploring soldiers’ morale in 1914–18 – which had tended to focus on life in the frontlines – by investigating their life behind the lines, primarily through the lens of soldiers’ newspapers, also known as ‘trench journals’. Fuller suggested that the culture that civilian soldiers brought with them was well suited to their lives in the army. Football and theatre, as well as rugby and music hall, helped men to relax and maintained their endurance. Interestingly, Fuller suggests that the military originally paid little attention to the entertainment of its men and that it was the soldiers (with the support of their officers) that took it upon themselves to organize games and performances. Later, these became institutionalized and provide an example of an army drawing its energy from the bottom up.Footnote 5
Although this article is not a study of morale, it will offer insights that shed light on the endurance of the BEF. In the same vein as Fuller, though, this article is concerned with what events behind the line can tell us about the experience of the conflict. There has been increased scholarly attention paid to the lives of men outside of battle and in rear areas. Popular assumptions that the soldiers spent most or even the majority of their time in waterlogged trenches have been challenged (though with questionable success) as scholars have revealed the diversity of experiences confronting the men of 1914–18.Footnote 6 Craig Gibson has provided the most comprehensive picture of the BEF's organization in the rear zones, where farming and cultivation took place, and men developed deep and lasting relationships with locals.Footnote 7 Many soldiers, outside of the horror of battle, saw the war as an opportunity for exploration and travel;Footnote 8 historians have also highlighted relationships between soldiers and sex workers.Footnote 9 Scholars have also begun to unpick the nature and strength of men's emotional relationship with the physical world they encountered on active service.Footnote 10
Yet, there are still facets of life behind the lines of which little is known. Namely, the allotment culture that became pervasive in the semi-permanent camps that helped sustain the British war effort. Gardening was a popular pastime in Edwardian Britain.Footnote 11 Allotments, too, had become a central feature of working-class life (both rural and urban) by the beginning of the twentieth century.Footnote 12 So significant were they that legislation had been introduced, in the form of the Small Holding and Allotments Act (1907), that stipulated that local authorities were obliged to meet the demand for allotments.Footnote 13 What is more, ‘[f]ood generally has been identified as a central concern and obsession in soldiers’ contemporary letters and diaries and subsequent memoirs’.Footnote 14 Beyond the sustenance good rations provided, Rachel Duffet has shown how central food could be the social and cultural life of British soldiers. She also pointed to the existence of gardens in rear areas, though did not study them in much detail.Footnote 15 Duffet suggests that men were unwilling to invest their time in these whilst ‘at rest’, but soldiers’ penchant for gardening has been highlighted elsewhere.Footnote 16 As yet, however, there has been no real attempt to knit these insights together with the BEF's vegetable shows at Le Havre, nor its allotment culture, into a ‘Fuller-esque’ history of the BEF.
This article will do exactly that by using a series of documents collected by the staff of No. 1 Base, Le Havre, which were later sent to the British Museum. They are now held by the British Library and sit in a red booklet containing other artefacts of 1914–18: ration books; programmes from concerts, plays, and sports meets; a pamphlet from a GHQ debating society; and Christmas day menus.Footnote 17 Ann-Marie Foster, in a short article on the ephemera held by the British Library, has noted that the ‘research potential of these documents is, as yet, untapped’.Footnote 18 Unlike much of this particular collection, the papers related to the vegetable shows that took place at Le Havre in 1917 and 1918 present a relatively complete narrative. The first sections of this paper focus on Le Havre and the competitions that took place there. Yet, to delve deeper into this history, it then widens its lens by studying a soldiers’ newspaper produced by servicemen keeping allotments elsewhere on the western front. In doing so, it provides new perspectives on the experiences of soldiers during the Great War. While this is not a conventional ‘microhistory’, the focus on the theme of allotments and these vegetable shows does allow this article to ‘search for answers to large questions in [relatively] small places’.Footnote 19 By studying the allotment culture and competitions at Le Havre, one can learn more about the organization and administration of the BEF, its relationship with its allies, and the nature of soldiers’ lives out of the frontlines. Ultimately, this analysis offers further evidence of the myriad ways in which civilian culture percolated and became fundamental to the British military in 1914–18.
I
For obvious reasons, allotments were not a common sight in the frontlines. Yet, in the expansive base camps that sprung up in the rear areas of British operations, they became a common feature of daily life. This was particularly the case in the ports and settlements along the English Channel, which had housed BEF personnel from the earliest days of the war.Footnote 20 British troops streamed through these places on their way to the frontlines. Le Havre's sea and railway connections meant it quickly grew into one of the primary British bases on the continent. Apart from a brief period in 1914, when the German advance had threatened to over-run this part of France, the BEF was a constant feature of city life until 1919. No. 1 Base Headquarters were established at Quai Transatlantique, while other headquarters, directorships, services, and supply depots occupied a variety of other buildings. Around the city itself, a network of new tented settlements was constructed.Footnote 21
Le Havre was many Tommies’ first sight of France or of any foreign country for that matter.Footnote 22 The first men arriving in August 1914 were met by crowds of civilians, which underlined the ‘foreignness’ of the country.Footnote 23 The city, however, became remarkably ‘English’. Already, in 1914, the majority of people R. D. Sheffield encountered were from the United Kingdom.Footnote 24 Places such as this very quickly became semi-permanent centres of army logistics. Thousands of soldiers were based and billeted here.Footnote 25 In late 1914, one soldier had already come to consider these ports in the same breath as England and ‘Hyde Park’.Footnote 26 A post-war soldiers’ travel guide describing Boulogne could just have easily been written for veterans visiting Le Havre. It
became practically an English city; that is to say, a very large proportion of its inhabitants were British. There were huge rest camps for troops going on leave and returning from leave, situated near the harbour; hospitals sprang up in every direction, and were perpetually full of wounded soldiers; thousands of officers and clerks were employed upon the duties connected with a huge base.Footnote 27
In late 1916, R. E. P. Stevens felt ‘[one] cannot realise we have arrived in another country everything seems so English’. He found that he was ‘only reminded the place was a French port by the names on the shops’. He even found that the women were familiar. Many of them were British and served in units such as the Voluntary Aid Detachments (VADs) or, later, the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps (WAAC).Footnote 28 M. F. Gower reported that
Havre is quite a decent town with its gay shops and cafes, shady avenues of trees, gardens and squares and is quite lively especially after 6 p.m. when the cafes are open to British troops. It is very pleasant sitting in the latter sipping harmless beer, the only drawback are the number of beggars who come in and sing horrible songs thro’ their noses.Footnote 29
By 1918, this hive of activity also reflected the war's international character. The sight of large contingents of ‘Chinese and Black men’, alongside the cafés, reminded H. T. Madders that he was no longer in Herefordshire.Footnote 30
One trench journal explained that ‘quite a town’ had appeared in the surrounding countryside. New roads wound their way through a warren of different units and establishments. There were church tents and a wide array of different trades: carpenters, tailors, shipwrights, coopers, and bakers, amongst a vast array of other ‘support troops’.Footnote 31 This increasingly complex network of British camps was the entry point to what Chris Ward called (in an otherwise overstated characterization) the ‘colony’ of ‘Befland’.Footnote 32 The rest camps, hospitals, training areas, and other sections of the British military became semi-permanent fixtures. Luckily for the soldiers billeted at Le Havre, the wooded hills and valleys offered a pleasant vista (particularly for those who had come from the trenches).Footnote 33 For most, their experience of Le Havre was transient, with units and drafts continuously coming and going. However, men spent relatively long periods of time resting, training, or recuperating from injuries here. Some embraced the opportunity to satiate their more carnal desires.Footnote 34 A. L. Collis spent the first half of December 1916 in Le Havre; while C. T. O'Neill was camped there for most of January 1918 and found it ‘quaint and dirty’.Footnote 35 There were also a number of units – such as schools, rest depots, and the Army Printing & Stationery Service – that were posted here permanently. By 1917, the base was a sprawling web of camps, hospitals, prisons, prisoner of war (POW) camps, and administrative offices and between these were allotment gardens built and maintained by soldiers.
Jay Winter and Antoine Prost have argued that such places had
a society with its own distinct rules and associational life, quite distinct from those of the French and Germans…The same social divisions existed, with the public-school ethos in evidence on the one side, and the elaborate schemes built up to occupy the men out of the lines drawing on popular practices of entertainment and leisure.Footnote 36
Within the port and camps, there were a large selection of activities to divert the soldiers’ attention. The opportunity to explore Le Havre as a tourist – visiting its churches and historic buildings – was welcomed, as were the vices on offer, such as women and hard liquor.Footnote 37 The camps themselves were not lacking in amusement. ‘There is’, M. F. Gower told his sister, ‘plenty of entertainment in the camp, cinemas, concerts, billiards, library, etc. and we are not overworked by any means’. Le Havre's coastal location also allowed servicemen to indulge in ‘sea bathing’ and momentarily to forget the war.Footnote 38 The well-studied sports and theatrical activities common to nearly every part of the line were also found here with plenty of football, rugby, and athletic games, theatre and music hall shows, and concerts taking place.Footnote 39 For those missing high-quality football, the Royal Garrison Artillery Depot even had a group of talented professional footballers who played charity games.Footnote 40 More uniquely, the gardens that became so pervasive at Le Havre encouraged the camp commandant to hold a vegetable show in the city's Jardin St Roche in August of 1917 and 1918.Footnote 41
II
The vegetable competitions of 1917 and 1918 reflect the fusing of popular and military culture. Gardens were not a new thing in these base camps; nor were they limited only to Le Havre. Boulogne's Convalescent Camp, for example, had extensive vegetable plots at least a year before these shows.Footnote 42 Craig Gibson has suggested that ‘in 1916 [there was] the realization that the BEF needed to be more proactive in regards to agriculture, especially in the production of vegetables, cereals and forage’.Footnote 43 Around 1,200 acres of vegetable gardens were established in the Somme area alone. These were, though, cared for by locals who had returned to the area.Footnote 44 It is less clear whether cultivation of soldiers’ allotments was originally institutionally encouraged or if, excusing the pun, they arose more organically. This was the case with, say, trench names, which were later institutionalized.Footnote 45
Civilian culture provided a useful tool to military commanders. The use of civilian experts in military innovation and learning is evident elsewhere.Footnote 46 Such approaches and activities were not out of character in an institution whose culture was already steeped in the amateur tradition of Britain's public schools.Footnote 47 Yet, there is evidence to suggest that such green fingered expressions of civilian culture were often instinctive. Men would, for instance, spend time tending to the flowers in cemeteries and units were keen to beautify the places where their comrades were interred.Footnote 48 Understandably, gardening offered a period of peace while the cultivation of a plant from seed might have provided men with the semblance of agency in an otherwise chaotic world. In fact, modern research has highlighted just how beneficial gardening is for mental health – it is an effective escape mechanism and strategy for coping with stress.Footnote 49 Significantly, one soldiers’ journal recorded:
When men have been teaching Recreational Training weeks on end, it is of no use asking them to play games during their leisure moments. Rest is merely change of occupation, and in a garden the teacher of games will find a chance of employment which will prove both profitable & recuperative. So that gardening is simply a rest cure.Footnote 50
In 1917, these allotments were widespread enough to make a large-scale vegetable show practical. It seems that these gardens were first established by individual units and were later embraced by senior leadership for their own ends. Not every unit appears to have developed allotments, and so the base commandant, Brigadier General Nicholson, was interested in encouraging the cultivation of ‘all vacant land for the production of vegetables’ and the show was an ideal way to do so.Footnote 51 It also provided an opportunity to nurture a sense of corporate identity within the different camps around Le Havre and the auxiliary units based there: ‘all Units having gardens will be invited to exhibit samples of their produce’.Footnote 52 Tellingly, the show was linked explicitly to the aims of military training, at least its ‘moral’ dimensions that sought to develop men's character.Footnote 53 It was hoped that the initiative and prospect of competition would help develop the ‘right spirit’ amongst men permanently or temporarily posted to the base. Afterwards, officers felt that it had been a success and men had ‘shown’ this spirit by devoting their ‘spare time’ to the enterprise and had been ‘usefully employed’.Footnote 54
A vegetable show was a natural choice. In Edwardian Britain, gardening and farming were key dimensions of popular culture and of a national identity that drew heavily (but not solely) on pastoral scenes.Footnote 55 It would have also appealed to the Victorian and Edwardian tradition of competitive sports, which had already been embraced by the regular army in the decades preceding the Great War.Footnote 56 However, it was not an easy decision to implement and the event took months to organize. Unlike sports competitions and shows – both of which took place on long-established pitches and in the ubiquitous temporary theatres – this required new logistical apparatus. Memos began circulating in May 1917, some three months before the event, explaining the intention of the base commandant and asking for suggestions from units.Footnote 57 The show itself was a conscious effort to show appreciation for work that had been taking place in the cultivation of land throughout the Le Havre district. There was a desire to ensure that this good work continued and it was intended that the overall productivity of gardens would also be judged. The base commandant also seems to have seen this as an opportunity to nurture relations with Britain's allies; so it was suggested that ‘a few classes will be given for French competitors, and perhaps one for Belgium [sic] Military’.Footnote 58 There was an official search for men ‘with an interest or experience’ in similar competitions, and units appointed a chief gardener and a competition committee. Importantly, these roles might have offered a legitimate avenue away from the more overbearing demands of military service.Footnote 59
The rules of the competition, which were published in June, drew on pre-war models for vegetable shows but were produced in a distinctly military manner. The eleven point framework was strictly hierarchical (judges, who were also senior officers, held absolute authority). It was also published in the same font, coloured ink, and on identical paper to orders of the day.Footnote 60 Furthermore, the suggestion that units took part might well be read as an order: ‘The Base Commandant trusts that all those having Gardens will endeavour to enter for one or more Classes, and that every effort will be made to make the Show a success.’Footnote 61 Aside from the classes set aside for the Belgian military and French civil population, the remaining categories were open ‘to all Camps and Units in the Havre Administrative area’ so long as the exhibit was ‘bona-fide grown by the Exhibitor’. To avoid disqualification, exhibitors had to present the specified number of vegetables free of dirt, to be submitted the day before the event. All submissions were later donated to local military hospitals. Those soldiers with vegetables, flowers, or fruit ‘not provided for in the Schedule of Classes’ were also ‘cordially invited to send in specimens “for exhibition only”’.Footnote 62
The classes included a variety of fruits and vegetables with a focus on quantity and size. The broadest classes were for ‘The Best Garden of All’; ‘Most Intensive Garden’; ‘Best Garden in harfleur valley’; and ‘Collection of Vegetables’. There were then individual categories for potatoes; cabbages; kale; carrots; turnips; swedes; onions; leeks; parsnips; lettuces; radishes; pumpkins; Brussel sprouts; beans (French, runner, and broad); marrows; ‘eschalots’ or shallots; peas; cauliflowers; celery; tomatoes; and beetroot. There were five categories for French civilians (including one for local students) from Le Havre and the call for submissions was advertised in the local newspaper in June.Footnote 63 Additionally, three categories were set aside for the Belgian military present in the area (infantry, artillery, and ‘mutiles de la guerre’).Footnote 64 This was indicative of the drive to build bonds between allies, while the decision to compete in separate categories might indicate a desire to avoid competition.
The shows were conceived and planned to fit the mould of any pre-war vegetable competition in Britain. Even here, though, there were a variety of motifs that foregrounded the war. The medals, awarded as prizes to winners, were arguably more reminiscent of a peacetime event than one co-ordinated by a military organization. However, as medals, they would sit nicely alongside the awards that soldiers or units had received in their more militaristic pursuits. First prize (for very highly commended submissions), second prize (the highly commended category), and third prize (simply commended) were all accompanied by detailed medals engraved with the BEF, a crown, a rising sun, and a crop field. These were plated gold, silver, or bronze medallions, but all competitors were given a certificate for taking part. The 1917 entrance form was emblazoned with the British crown and framed by Union and French flags. A detailed stencil depicted some of the vegetables and legumes that might be found at the show. By 1918, the form had become even more detailed, with fauna now depicted alongside vegetables, perhaps reflecting the inclusion of new categories and classes. The competitors’ details were framed by flowers and draped flags. It was made clear that this was the BEF's competition, but as well as the British crown, Le Havre's coat of arms was emblazoned at the bottom of the document.Footnote 65
The committee, which commissioned these certificates, was elected by the units and camps around Le Havre and organized the event alongside their military responsibilities.Footnote 66 It was not only these men, though, for whom the event provided a welcome diversion from their usual routine. In a letter to the director of the British Museum, Captain P. H. Browne (the staff captain responsible for the event) explained that the certificate had been ‘engraved on stone by a man at this base who in civil life is a clerk in a Gas Company’. This was an impressive piece of artistry. The stencils and headings on the band programmes were similarly ‘engraved by an amateur Corporal in the Army Printing & Stationery Service’.Footnote 67
The event took place between 14 and 16 August in both 1917 and 1918 and judging occurred on the first day. The gates opened at 8 a.m. and the participants had nearly three hours to arrange their exhibits. They provided their own dishes and plates and were warned ‘to remove any debris or mess’ and ‘avoid touching any other exhibits’ or risked being disqualified.Footnote 68 Senior officers from across the army were invited to attend, but it was open to everyone. On 14 August, the entrance fee was set at 1 franc, but up to three gardeners from each unit were granted a ‘Gardeners’ Pass’ by their commanding officer.Footnote 69 The gates were opened to invited and paying guests in the afternoon. Later, there were drinks and light refreshments, which were accompanied by music played by the band of the 2nd Australian Division. The unity and links between the Allies were underlined further when, at 5 p.m., Admiral Didelot, the French governor of Le Havre, distributed prizes to the winning competitors.Footnote 70 The festivities continued on the second and third days when all members of the military were admitted for free. A French national holiday for the l'Assomption de Marie fell on 15 August. This seems to have encouraged locals to visit and peruse the products being displayed. The Army Service Corps (ASC) Base Depot Band played a variety of marching, concert, and waltz pieces (both British and French). The next day, the Army Ordnance Depot Band played an equally eclectic selection of tunes. Both concerts were followed by the Allies’ national anthems.Footnote 71
The 1917 event ‘succeeded beyond expectations’ and ‘would have done credit to any county show’.Footnote 72 The base staff felt that they had succeeded in their dual goals of increasing the ‘cultivation [of land around Le Havre] by the men in their spare time’ and encouraging ‘friendly rivalry among the Units’.Footnote 73 There were ‘some 650 entries’ from British sources alone. The sheer number of prizes and categories are revealing of both the productivity of the allotments around Le Havre and the complexity of the BEF's base camp. The BEF's competition included twenty-three individual categories. Amongst the winners were artillery depots, ASC depots, both human and veterinary hospitals, convalescent depots, field bakeries, headquarters, infantry depots, messes, military prisons, remount depots, Royal Army Medical Corps camps, rest camps, workshops, and Young Men's Christian Association (YMCA) huts. Cinder City, a sprawling encampment with a variety of institutions, competed individually, winning the peas category and being highly commended for their collection of vegetables and potatoes.Footnote 74
The Belgian military and French civilian classes were also ‘well supported and created much interest’. It remains unclear why, but the ‘French Military were not allowed to compete’.Footnote 75 There were eighteen winners – either prizes or commendations – across the six French categories. The medals and commendations were awarded to a range of private citizens, institutions, and schools. The five Belgian military categories were specifically for artillery, auxiliary services, soldiers’ homes, and camps for injured servicemen.Footnote 76 The base commandant was gratified ‘at the excellence of the exhibits’ and the ‘large…attendance of all ranks on each day’.Footnote 77 Some 9,000 people visited the show despite ‘deplorable weather’ and the ‘inhabitants of Havre were much impressed with the utility and interest of the Show’.Footnote 78 Yet, this was not simply a pleasant diversion, it had also contributed to the wider war effort. Over ‘3000 francs was received from “Gate” money’, which was divided up and donated to French and British War Funds. The ‘expenses were defrayed from subscriptions received from Officers stationed in Havre’.Footnote 79 If any men were feeling guilty that others were fighting and dying around Ypres – or elsewhere in the world – then this was also an opportunity to feel that they had taken part in something contributing to the wider war effort.Footnote 80
The governor of Le Havre was so impressed that he recommended that locals organize ‘a show as an annual feature’.Footnote 81 The British had, it seems, cemented themselves as part of the city's social and cultural life. It was agreed the competition would be repeated the following year, but this time it would be an even grander affair. The accounts for the 1918 event – unavailable for 1917 – show that the combined costs incurred amounted to nearly 3,500 francs with 3,052 francs being spent on the goldsmiths’ and silversmiths’ medals alone.Footnote 82 The planning began in May 1918 when new members of the organization committee were elected. They wanted to extend the competition's scope and considered including animals, namely poultry and rabbits.Footnote 83 By this stage, men's protein allowance had been reduced so it seems unsurprising that there was a desire to now encourage husbandry alongside gardening.Footnote 84 It was agreed that two birds, of any breed, could be presented ‘killed and plucked’. Rabbits were to be presented alive, as pairs, in clean hutches. As well as the continued focus on quantity and size of vegetables, flowers were to be included. However, this class was restricted to women ‘working with one of the recognised institutions’.Footnote 85
The work of this committee was rather democratic. At times, it seems to have been an exercise in consensus building. When it came to decisions regarding new categories and how, for instance, the rabbits should be presented (‘trussed…[or] killed cleaned but in their skins’), committee members were tasked with obtaining the opinions of their units and neighbours.Footnote 86 The committee itself was made up of men of almost every rank from lieutenant colonel to gunner. Table 1 highlights not only this, but also the range of activities and units based at Le Havre by May 1918.
Membership of the 1918 Vegetable Show Organization Committee
POW contingents, guardsmen, Australia and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) troops, auxiliary services, cavalry, artillery, infantry, and the Labour Corps all took part; rarely would one have found an event that involved so many of the BEF's constituent parts. It is a vivid example of the complexity of military organizations by the end of the war and of an army international in character: there were Dominion units, other examples of the imperial war effort, and the Chinese Labour Corps. Records also indicate that Americans, Italians, Russians, and other nationalities were transiting through the port on a regular basis.Footnote 87 It seems likely that the vegetable shows would have drawn a varied and cosmopolitan crowd.
The winners list for 1918 reveals the degree to which the competition had expanded. There were some 830 British entries (up nearly 200 from 1917) and, apparently, there was greater interest in the ‘French Civilian’ and ‘Belgian Military’ categories. Once again, the French military were, for some unknown reason, not allowed to compete.Footnote 88 The standard of entries was apparently ‘considerably higher than on the previous occasion’.Footnote 89 In the end, there were only two categories in the French competition. Five citizens shared the first, second, and third prizes and another eight were commended. The ‘Jardins potagers de militaires Belges’ saw individual (rather than unit) winners.Footnote 90 In contrast, the ‘Jardins potagers de troupes Belge’ were shared by units: the Belgian artillery establishment at Gainneville took first prize, a Belgian Soldiers’ Home came second, another artillery group third, and the ‘Invalides Belges’ were highly commended. The vegetable collection category was shared by units and installations from St Adresse, Gainville, and Sanvic.
Again, the BEF's winners reflect the variety of units that came under the command of the commandant at Le Havre. The Guards Division's Base Depot won three categories, as did No. 1 Rest Camp ‘B’. No. 3 Military Prison took two awards. The ‘B’ Infantry Base Depot Supplies, ‘Harfleur Gare’; Royal Garrison Artillery Base Depot; Army Service Corps Base Depot (HT&S); ‘A’ Inf. Base Depot; and No. 1 Rest Camp ‘A’ were all awarded one gold medal apiece.Footnote 91 Given the Guards’ penchant for excellence, it comes as no surprise that they would have strived to be the best even here.Footnote 92 Yet, for the rest camps and auxiliary units, this was the opportunity to develop some corporate pride, which it seems they did. The successes of the Depot Company of German POWs and the POW Convalescent Depot, who won second-place medals, might suggest that their prisoners offered little trouble, either helping in the cultivation of the allotments or allowing the guards to concentrate on these more peaceful pursuits. Furthermore, that depots and rest camps were able to win some plaudits, despite the men constantly filtering in and out of these establishments, also hints at a shared love of gardening that, perhaps, incentivized new men to carry on where others had left off.Footnote 93
The organizing committee felt that the 1918 show was a triumph – greater, even, than the previous year. The yields from unit gardens had increased, while the base's relationship with the local populace was bolstered. P. H. Browne, now a major, argued that the show had succeeded in encouraging the cultivation of the fallow land around the camps and base. He reported that ‘the very high cultivation and the excellent returns on all these gardens indicate that in friendly rivalry and undoubted keenness among all ranks stimulated their efforts with unexpectedly good results’. Certainly, a large quantity of vegetables were produced by No. 1 Base Camp, Le Havre, in the seven months prior to 31 December 1918. Over 4,207,341 lbs. of produce was grown in a cultivated area of 182.5 acres. Almost every unit in the region seems to have had allotments, though they varied in size and productivity. These included Chinese Labour Corps companies, ‘Native’ Labour Contingent camps, hospitals, Royal Engineer units, base depots, rest camps, and a variety of prisoner of war establishments. At Le Havre, it was a BEF-wide phenomenon. The Area Farm at Caueriauville had the highest yields and the biggest acreage. It was not, though, the most productive unit in relative terms – harvesting 11 lbs. 16.05 oz. of produce per acre. In contrast, the six most productive units outshone this specialist organization. Amongst these were No. 1 Rest Camp Section ‘B’ and No. 2 Veterinary Hospital. Yet, by far and away the most productive units were both POW contingents. The Depot Company of German POWs achieved a yield of 26 lbs. 14.5 oz. per acre and the Convalescent Depot of German POWs produced 20 lbs. 17.5 oz. of vegetables per acre. This was double the average for Le Havre as a whole. Whether these prisoners were forced to work – as they were in other circumstances – is unclear.Footnote 94 It seems, though, that something was underpinning their levels of productivity, which the quality of soil alone could not explain.
It was not only the quantity and quality of the produce on show that reflected its success. ‘About 11,000 people visited the show’ over the course of the competition. Soldiers and locals flocked to the Jardin St Roche. The receipts show that 752 francs were taken on the first day, 2,015 francs and 95 cents on 15 August (suggesting that the national holiday did encourage locals to attend), and a further 558 francs and 25 cents on the final day. A further 304 francs and 40 cents was generated through programme sales with the YMCA tents contributing another 308 francs and 75 cents. Yet, to ensure that the show did not work to a loss, this income was boosted by ‘subscriptions from Officers’ that covered ‘all [other] expenses’. These subscriptions amounted to 4,009 francs and 90 cents. This might be seen as a vivid example of the paternalistic duties of officers outlined by Gary Sheffield.Footnote 95 Their donations meant that the organizing committee was able to give 2,000 francs to the British Red Cross and a further 2,000 to the French Red Cross. In a numerical representation of the power of the different Allies, a smaller sum of 454 francs was donated to the Belgian Red Cross. A further pot of 165 francs was set aside as tips for the staff at the show.Footnote 96
III
The scale of these shows is revealed in the documents collected by the staff at Le Havre. However, the thoughts and feelings of those soldiers taking part are harder to trace; at least until further material becomes available.Footnote 97 The British Museum's interest in the competition suggests that it may have been the largest organized on the western front. Yet, a similar initiative was proposed in the camps around Boulogne in the summer of 1918, though it is unclear if it ever took place.Footnote 98 Evidence of comparable activities can be found in the trench journal The Spud, later rechristened Sport & Spuds, a free periodical published by a physical and bayonet training school, somewhere close to Étaples.Footnote 99 Here, like Le Havre, the camps were surrounded by a patchwork of ‘Camp allotments’. Some members of the school apparently disliked gardening because, according to one article, such pursuits were ‘too peaceful’. Yet, many other men devoted their ‘spare time’ to such activities before they were embraced by the military more officially.Footnote 100 In March 1918, the school's allotments included multiple vegetable plots, fourteen pigs, six geese, seven ducks, thirty-four hens, eighteen pigeons, and two bee colonies.Footnote 101 The Spud and Sport & Spuds were published for the benefit of the ‘Allotment Holders’ around the base in the hope that the journal could offer advice on anything from rabbit rearing to marrow cultivation.Footnote 102
These activities could encourage and cultivate morale – here defined as ‘the process by which men, positively or negatively, rationalised their role as…members of the military’.Footnote 103 This went beyond stress relief. The August 1918 edition of the journal highlighted the benefits of competitions. No. 12 Veterinary Hospital had put on a vegetable show.Footnote 104 A staff officer, acting as judge, was apparently so impressed that he reported ‘it was better than any Cottagers’ flower-show he has seen’. Most important, though, was the emphasis on gaining ‘credit for their unit’.Footnote 105 The British Army's regimental system was one that encouraged corporate identity, even outside of traditional structures.Footnote 106 The servicemen at No. 12 Veterinary Hospital seem to have embraced the contest. By competing against a neighbouring outfit, they were able to win some glory despite sitting very far away from the battle zone. It may also be that the use of allotments in this way brought men of rural and urban backgrounds together in a common endeavour.
The tending to these allotments and gardens also fed into men's reconceptualization of the western front. It nurtured a sense of ownership that was felt by the publishers of these journals when their camps were threatened by the German spring offensives in March 1918. The Sport & Spuds, published in August after the crisis had abated, explained that the German offensives were (at least in part) a symptom of their jealousy of the quality of the British gardens and allotments.Footnote 107 While clearly making light of the war, this also hints at the ways in which men ‘Tommified’ the western front.Footnote 108 The relief with which the editors noted that their gardens had so far been spared from the enemy seems authentic. The creation of these gardens, like the renaming of the landscape, allowed men to see Belgium and France as in some way British.
It also generated some agency within units at the blunt end of the war effort in a military that tended to stamp out individuality. While men complained about the rigours of training, which sparked a mutiny amongst troops at Étaples in 1917, rear areas were generally a much safer and more pleasant place to be.Footnote 109 Life in the camps was a world away from the firing line. For some men, their stint at a training camp was only a break from the pressures of frontline life, but for others this was their permanent posting. One poem in another issue of the journal highlighted many of the comparative benefits of life outside of combat units. It was generally ‘quiet and peaceful and far from the guns’ and thankfully one ‘can't even smell the damn stink of dead Huns’. Importantly, men slept in beds and they were based right next to the sea. Unlike the almost exclusively masculine company kept in most units, there were also women in this sector: both members of the Women's Auxiliary Army Corps and French civilians on whom they could practise their French.Footnote 110 It is unsurprising, then, that infantrymen were often embittered by the relative benefits enjoyed by units such as these. In both 1917 and 1918, the Le Havre shows took place whilst fierce fighting continued in the forward zone. In August 1917, the British Army was struggling at Third Ypres, while a year later the second battle of the Marne (15 July to 6 August) and the battle of Amiens (8 through 11 August) had seen the Allies finally begin to beat back the Germans after their advances in the spring.Footnote 111 Those men fighting and dying were undoubtedly the combatants at the sharp end of the war and the staff at these training depots were aware of this.
However, the military had become a lumbering goliath with a huge array of support troops that had to cope with and endure the war in different ways. The majority of men taking part in the No. 12 Veterinary Hospital's show were, apparently, ‘old fellows of “crocks”, B3 and C3 men’.Footnote 112 This, a reference to official medical categories, indicates that the men involved had been classified as fit only for sedentary work. In this case, it was nursing the military's animals and, indirectly, helping the nation's food supply. When discussing their duties as physical trainers, one of the journal's authors pointed to their role in instilling ‘the spirt of fight, / That was ever a Britisher's pride’ in those passing through their classes.Footnote 113 They were not unaware of the sacrifices of their comrades at the front. The ‘white wooden boxes’ stacked outside nearby hospitals were a reminder of the cost of the war.Footnote 114 They were, though, keen to show they were ‘doing their bit’ and celebrated their contribution to the war effort. Working on allotments was a part of their sacrifice, which was relative; not everyone, thankfully for them, was able to risk their lives.
Perceptions of ‘economies of sacrifice’ were contingent on men's role and job.Footnote 115 Interestingly, because of this, these soldiers were more willing to look positively on the contributions of those working in factories on the home front than were those serving in the frontlines.Footnote 116 Those servicemen working in base camps, particularly in jobs linked to farming, had readier access to fresh (and high-quality) food than either combat troops or those in the United Kingdom.Footnote 117 Their lives, as one poem highlighted, also held diversions not readily available to men in the line: lovely coastal scenes, a proximity to the ‘homeland’ (though this could be painful), shows, ‘laughter and light’, ‘frolic and song’, and ‘girl things from Blighty’.Footnote 118 This sense of relative privilege extended to those in Britain, where food shortages had started to bite in 1917; these men were better provisioned and catered for.Footnote 119 Dwelling upon this, one author noted that ‘at home…there are thousands of fellows slaving in Munition factories, with none of the glory which khaki confers’. Such empathy is difficult to find in the letters and publications of infantry units, which were often bitter about perceived inequalities. Even though those serving in base camps were able to ‘trot around the woods’ and ‘sit at one's ease at the Café de Paris’, they were still able to ‘pat ourselves on the back because we are out in France helping to win the war’.Footnote 120 In this case, at least, justifying their contribution to the war effort did not mean being unaware that they were privileged.
Another feature of modern war, at least with regards to the morale of civilian soldiers, was the ability to learn new trades. The war was, for many combatants, an opportunity to gain new skills, which might improve their life chances. When men left the military at the end of the war, they did so with character references and evidence of their training.Footnote 121 As the war progressed, soldiers became increasingly specialized. Changing tactics saw men adopting particular roles within their unit – for instance in communications, bombing, or sniping – and there was instruction that accompanied this. The men's notebooks from their time on courses highlights how many embraced this as an educational experience.Footnote 122 Working in these gardens and allotments offered another chance to gain skills (or to practise pre-existing ones) albeit in a less formal and organized manner. The Spud contained advice for the amateur gardeners from experts. This included guidance on how best to care for one's spade (the best hint being to ‘keep…[it] as clean as you keep your rifle’); ‘to dig with either hand and foot’ so ‘you won't tire one set of muscles’; the differences between and benefits of ‘digging’, ‘trenching’, and ‘double-trenching’; how to divide plots longitudinally; and strategies for digging and cultivation of different seeds.Footnote 123 Men could learn the necessary skills to maintain their own allotments and to provide for their families once they returned home.
The sense that these men were relatively privileged reveals a further layer of this story and helps to explain why the commandant at Le Havre was so keen to see the use of allotments expand. A great strain was placed on combatant societies in 1917, which required the remobilization of allies and enemies alike.Footnote 124 Local and national authorities in Britain also embraced allotments. Households had been encouraged to grow their own food from the early days of the war, but the German U-Boat campaign had made food supply an even more pressing concern by the spring and summer of 1917. Model allotments were constructed across the country (including in Regent's Park and Kensington Gardens) and widespread ‘allotmentitis’ saw the number of plots in Britain swell from 440,000 in 1914 to an estimated 1.5 million by 1918.Footnote 125 While there is no evidence that military authorities in Le Havre were responding directly to this, they must have been aware of the phenomenon. The best food and supplies were reserved for fighting men, but the BEF was not immune to the problems facing civil society. Men's rations were affected by the disruption to food supply and were also prey to the military's attempts to cut costs.Footnote 126 In 1917 and 1918, the strains of war were – beyond casualty figures – being felt by the army and savings and efficiency gains were demanded of the BEF. Efforts were made to reduce its expenditure by, for instance, cutting the protein, bread, cheese, and even tea allowance of troops.Footnote 127 It is unsurprising, then, that men saw these allotments as an opportunity to supplement their diet. The military saw this too, which prompted the base commandant at Le Havre to find ways to encourage the cultivation of the unused land between the myriad camps. Consequently, the vegetable show was conceived at least nominally ‘with a view to showing his appreciation of the efforts now being made by practically every Unit in his Command, to cultivate all vacant land for the production of vegetables, and to encourage the continuity of this work’.Footnote 128 The development and institutionalization of the allotments also seems to have produced an internal market of sorts. There were market rates for produce and a quasi ‘sharing economy’ in which tools, products, and seeds were exchanged.Footnote 129 It seems significant that men, and then the army, turned to allotments, which had been celebrated as a tool for alleviating poverty and unemployment before the war.Footnote 130 In an army predominantly composed of civilians, it was to the civilian world that they looked to when searching for solutions to military problems.
IV
Focusing on particular events, particularly in the base camps, reveals the true complexity and diversity of soldiers’ experiences during the First World War, while the British Army's organization can be seen with greater clarity. Many years ago now, Peter Simkins noted that historians ‘are in broad agreement that the nature of British society in 1914–18 provided a bedrock of social cohesion which prevented the BEF from total collapse’.Footnote 131 The events at Le Havre suggest that senior officers, at least in the staff at No. 1 Base Camp, were aware of this and that by 1917 they were actively mobilizing culture as a mechanism for their military ends: be it to foster corporate identity or to encourage the cultivation of land. Indeed, it has been suggested that it was this willingness to adopt civilian thought and behaviour that stood the British Army apart from many of its contemporaries.Footnote 132 Not only this, but the particular example of vegetable shows in Le Havre tells us an immense amount about the percolation of popular culture deep into the fibres of the British military. So much so that as they sought to reduce costs and improve self-sufficiency, it was to the British love of gardening that the military authorities turned. Significantly, these were – like sports and theatre – activities that first started as pastimes pursued by soldiers when not on duty. It was the popularity and productivity of these allotments and gardens that convinced the army to adopt and institutionalize them. In this way, the BEF was an organization that (while heavily dependent on discipline) was willing and able to adopt ideas and strategies originating in the off-duty activities of its most lowly ranking members.
The vegetable shows also reveal the diversity of experiences found if one studies events away from the frontlines. Far from the popular myth of mud and blood, still so dominant outside of academic circles, life behind the lines could be diverting and enjoyable – a place to learn new trades, escape the war, and relax. What is more, these events would have never taken place were it not for the complex and positive relationship that developed between the British Army and the French civil population. Far from simply tolerating each other's presence, events such as this demonstrate how soldiers and civilians intermingled and, it seems, could enjoy their exposure to one another. Pandemic restrictions meant that – beyond a press clipping in the British Library's collection – it was not possible to access local newspapers in Le Havre to study French civilians’ reactions to these events through anything but a British lens, which might be rectified in future analyses. It also remains to be seen why the French military were not allowed to take part: was there a more strained relationship between the British and French militaries or, indeed, did the French military look on such entertainment with disdain? While it is unlikely that scholars will unearth material that shatters historical understanding of 1914–18, documents related to events such of those that took place at Le Havre undoubtedly still sit in archives, both local and national, ready to deepen our understanding of the Great War.
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