Forlorn
Hopes, Lost Causes, Bitter Enders, and Gotterdammerung: The Romance
of Pointless Defiance
Throughout
history – or at least in the tales white European men tell
themselves (which until recently was the same thing), there reoccurs
stories of defiance, to be lauded and held up as an example of how to
act. Often, a dispassionate review shows what happened (or was
attempted) to be pointless: nothing was gained, much was lost to no
advantage to anyone.
Forlorn Hope
Technically, a
Forlorn Hope is a near-suicidal attack, ordered when more
conventional approaches have failed, in the hope that the Forlorn
Hope will make an overall victory possible, From the Dutch “Verloren
Hoop” or Lost Troop. Colloquially, it is used in American English
as a synonym for Last Stand. Compare with the word “Awful”, which
should
be the superlative for awesome, but has come to mean its opposite.
In 1861, France, the UK, and Spain decided that Mexico's
unilateral two-year moratorium on paying interest on the state debt
could and should be lifted – at the point of a bayonet or two. The
UK and Spain left with their money, the French decided to expand the
empire (thus, “Amerique latine or
Latin America” a term devised in Colombia in 1856 but popularised
by Napoleon III). This ultimately did not turn out so well for
Emperor Napoleon III of France – and quite badly for erstwhile
Archduke Maximilian of Austria: shot for his troubles (and posing as
Emperor of Mexico) when the French were forced out in 1867. But I am
getting ahead of my story. So, May 5, 1862 – nope, too far back.
Keep this up, and I may sink my readers' interest.
On April
30, 1863, 65 Legionaires of the French Foreign Legion were sent to
reinforce the escort of a convoy, itself in support of the French
siege of the Mexican stronghold of Puebla, on the way to the capital
of Mexico City. The Legionaires found themselves cut off by a
stronger force – which kept getting bigger: 250, 600, 1400; by the
end more than 3000. French Captain Danjou, surrounded, had his men
swear – on Danjou's prosthetic hand! - to fight to the death rather
than surrender, in (supposed) imitation of Napoleon's Guard at
Waterloo. The Mexicans offered to let the French surrender. Non! Said
Danjou, quickly meeting his own death. More Mexicans arrived; another
offer to the hungry, thirsty Legionaires. Merde!
Exclaimed
the remaining sergeant. Late in the afternoon, the Mexicans again
offered surrender, now to the last 12 men on their feet. Again no.
Out of ammo, the last five (or six) fixed bayonets and charged. Then
the final three at last surrendered. The Legionaires had, truly,
“fought like demons.” and Danjou's hand is a central relic for
the Legion to this day.
Glory without end. But to what
effect? The French had early on halted the convoy when they saw the
large interposing Mexican force. And ran the convoy through to the
siege in prompt order over the next few days. The Legionaires taken
prisoner were treated well, and exchanged to the French on Bastille
Day, 14 July 1863. Puebla, then Mexico City, fell to the French. But
by the end of 1866, France had withdrawn most of its troops,
pressured by the United States that had won its own Civil War.
Mid-May 1867 Mexico City was retaken by Mexican forces, Maximilian
captured, court-martialed and shot on 19 June, a few days short of
his 35th
birthday; and thousands of miles from his birthplace in Schloss
Schönbrunn
in Vienna. The Legionaires's sacrifice was glorious – but
operationally pointless. The Legionaires had fought – and died –
for Glory and Honor. Nothing less. And nothing more.
Lost
Causes
Ah, The Lost Cause! The South Will Rise Again! No, not
The Lost Cause. A lost cause. Partly because The Lost Cause is too
well known. But mainly because pursuit of The Lost Cause hasn't been
anywhere near as futile as one could hope, and certainly doesn't rank
as pointless defiance.
Real lost causes did arise in the
decades after Camarón.
(I forgot to mention that, didn't I? The pointless encounter in 1863
is known as the Battle of Camarón,
after the small town near Vera Cruz where it took place.) One such
lost cause is The War of the Triple Alliance, or Paraguayan War,
(1864-1870) begun by Paraguay against Brazil. Then Argentina and
Uruguay weighed in – against Paraguay. While the weight of military
force was slightly to Paraguay's advantage to start, in a long war,
its isolated position and demographic inferiority led it to doom.
Paraguay lost up to 1/3 of its territory, 1/2 or more of its
population and nearly every adult male. Arguably, it has yet to
recover.
Then there are Queen Victoria's Little Wars, in
Africa, Asia, Canada (!), as small numbers of heavily armed soldiers
wrack ruin and conquest in service of Her Majesty, glory, empire, and
extension of Rudyard Kipling's “White Man's Burden” - that of
“civilization” and “Christianity.” Result was – well, two
good movies: “Zulu” (the 1964 one) and “The Man Who Would be
King” (1975).
These are lost causes. However, pointless
and defiant don't really describe these lost causes.
But
the Fenian Raids? Defiant? Check. Pointless? Check.
From 1845
to 1849, the Great Famine ravaged Ireland. Greedy English landlords,
backed by the heartless government in London, allowed 1 million to
starve to death, while another million fled abroad: to Canada,
Australia, Mexico (!). And the United States, on both sides of the
Mason-Dixon Line. After the Civil War, thousands of Irish men had
military training, weapons, a bit of money, time, and national pride
in their Irish homeland. Also a persistent grievance against the
English.
Ireland remained an ocean away, strongly occupied by
professional soldiers who were demonstrably capable of resisting
uprising (1798), rebellion (1803, 1848) and planned insurrection
(1865). But Canada? It – actually they (Canada was not a unified
colony in 1865) – was near by; just across the border. And heck,
the Americans almost took it. Twice (1775, 1812).
Not that
the Irish in America wanted Canada.
Nah. They'd take it – or at least key points and infrastructure –
and TRADE it back to the English for Ireland.
The Fenians
began this well thought out campaign in April 1866 with an attack on
Campo Bello (now Campobello) New Brunswick. First assembling their
men across the narrow strait in Maine … well, that's where it
stopped. The British could see what the Fenians were up to and
preempted the attack by moving 700 regular soldiers and warships over
from Halifax.
In June 1866, the Fenians launched two raids,
and this time both successfully got across the border. With the
warship USS Michigan disabled by Fenian sympathisizers, something
over 1000 Fenians crossed the Niagara River west from Buffalo toward
Fort Erie. The next moming, they ambushed a large force of Canadian
militia, inflicting numerous casualties and taking prisoners. But
with the Michigan back in operation, cutting the Fenains off from
supply and reinforcement, and British regulars and more Canadian
militia approaching, the Fenians crossed back into the U.S. where
they surrendered. U.S. President Andrew Johnson called the Fenians
“evil-disposed persons” and said their actions were illegal under
American and international law.
Which didn't stop the next
raid, the day after Johnson's proclamation. This time just under 1000
Fenians set from St Albans Vermont and briefly took four Canadian
villages before being chased off by Canadian cavalry. (To be fair, in
1864 a raid the other direction by Confederates who had escaped from
Union POW camps robbed three banks in the selfsame St Albans, making
off with at least $88,000 (about $1.5 million today).)
American
public opinion favored the Fenians, and they were released and got
their weapons back under executive orders signed by Johnson ahead of
the November Congressional elections.
Raids
resumed in 1870, two in late May. At Eccles Hill, essentially ON the
Vermont-Canada border, a brief skirmish quickly dispersed the
Fenians. Two days later and some miles west, another force of Fenians
is fired upon by Canadian troops and “redeploy” back into New
York, where their leader John O'Neill is promptly arrested by the US
Marshal.
And one more – my favorite! O'Neill, recently
released from prison after a pardon from President Grant, travels to
St. Paul Minnesota (!) to plan a raid on Winnipeg. On October 5, 1871
he and three dozen Fenians capture the Hudson's Bay Company post in
Pembina. Those of you who know your North Dakota-Manitoba geography
well, or have just travelled by car between Winnipeg and St Paul, may
be scratching your heads. Yes, Pembina is and was in North Dakota. In
the United States.
At this point the Fenians in the United
States decided these raids were a little worse than pointless, and
started sending money to the Irish in Ireland – and England. Which
while no longer pointless did lead to much violence and bloodshed.
Another unified and ultimately independent country can however trace
its origins to the Fenians raids. The Dominion of Canada began the
unification of Canada on 1 July 1867, at least in part in response to
the 1866 raids.
Bitter Enders
So, the 19th
Century Pax Brittanica was a facade in Canada. But surely elsewhere
it held? The flag never sets on the British Empire and all that? Even
before the defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo, Britain had “gone abroad
in search of monsters to destroy” in the words of US Secretary of
State John Quincy Adams. From 1815 to 1902, Britain was almost
constantly at war, but rarely against anyone of white European stock.
To the dismay of its settlers, the British made an exception of the
Cape Colony in South Africa. A brief Boer (Dutch: “farmer”)
rebellion in 1815, described by a partisan observer as "the
most insane attempt ever made by a set of men to wage war against
their sovereign" was brutually crushed. What followed was almost
ninety years of a lethal Mad Hatter's Party, as the British
repression and dislike of the Boers resulted in them moving further
and further inland. For the Boers, this was the Great Trek. (For
English speakers, we picked up a new word.) A partial status vivendi
was reached in 1881, when the British lost the three-month-long First
Boer War. Then, most unfortunately for the Boers, they found .. GOLD!
“Outlanders” - mainly Brits – flooded into Boer lands. In
October 1899, the Boers demanded that the Brits leave them alone.
British sentiment was led by the likes of Cecil Rhodes (he of
Rhodesia and the Rhodes Scholarship), who called for armed defense of
“outlander” rights and better treatment for Black Africans (no,
really).
The first phase of the war went badly for the
British. Famously, Lord Baden-Powell was besieged in Mafeking, with
only Sunday cricket matches (and concerts) for light entertainment
until relieved, with His Lordship going on to create the Boy Scouts.
(Nevermind he had been ordered to NOT defend in Mafeking.)
Nonetheless, less than a year after the conflict started, the Boer
capitals of Bloemfontein and Pretoria had fallen. The regular,
stand-up war was over.
But the Bittereinders among the Boers
did not give up, their commandos (another new word for English!)
turning to guerilla warfare. (Guerilla was not a new word, arising in
1809 from the [Iberian] Penisular War of Wellington against
Napoleonic France.) About half of the orignal Boer force stayed in
the field as combatants. Those 25 thousand or so commandos were
opposed by up to 500,000 British, Canadians, Australians, and New
Zealanders.Twenty-to-one odds did not suffice, so the British
commander ordered a scorched earth policy, destroying Boer
settlements and driving the old men, women and children – and Black
“servants” – into concentration camps. (TWO new phrases:
scorched earth and concentration camps.) 6,189 Boer commandoes died
in the field, along with over 22,000 Brits. Over 25,000 Boer women
and 22,000 children under age 16 (about 20% of those detained) died,
along with uncounted thousands of Black Africans. (See British war
aims, above.)
Also decimated was the British budget: “defence”
spending skyrocketed from 35 million pounds annually to 120 million –
over 6% of GDP. Cheap compared to World War One, but four times what
the UK spends today.
Not so much pointless defiance as a
bitter end.
Götterdämmerung
In
April 1945, the Berlin Philharmonic played its last concerts in Nazi
Germany. The musicians played the finale of Wagner's Götterdämmerung
,
Brahms'
German
Requiem
(requiem: to honor the dead), and Strauss' Death
and Transfiguration.
For any concert-goers who missed the point, Hitler Youth reportedly
passed out cyanide pills.
Eight months earlier, another major
European capital was about to fall to an approaching army: Paris. Or
would it? In the 1960's there was published a book, followed by a
movie, both with the title, Is
Paris Burning? -
reportedly the words asked with no sense of ironic foreshadowing by
Hitler on August 25, 1944 as French and American troops entered the
City of Lights. We learned this first through the memoirs –
indeed, apologia – of General Dietrich von Choltitz, the last
German commander of Paris. There is solid documentary evidence that
on the morning of August 23, Hitler had in fact ordered that “The
Seine bridges will be prepared for demolition. Paris must not fall
into the hands of the enemy except as a field of ruins.” Also known
as the Trümmerfeld
order.
As recounted in the official US Army History Breakout
and Pursuit,
von Choltitz informed his superior headquarters later that same
day:
that he had complied by placing three tons of explosive
in the cathedral of Notre Dame, two tons in the Invalides, and one in
the Palais Bourbon (the Chamber of Deputies), that he was ready to
level the Arc de Triomphe to clear a field of fire, that he was
prepared to destroy the Opéra
and the Madeleine, and that he was planning to dynamite the Tour
Eiffel and use it as a wire entanglement to block the Seine.
Incidentally, he advised Speidel, he found it impossible to destroy
the seventy-odd bridges.
Von Choltitz was likely being
sarcastic, as he had begun the phone call “by thanking Speidel for
the lovely order from Hitler.” Nevertheless, in the days and weeks
after the surrender of Paris, many (still intact) bridges and
monuments did have to be demined. Von Choltitz's motivations are
unclear. Hitler's are not: he wanted vengeance. In the same order
that he required the destruction of Paris, he stressed the need to
hold onto Paris as long as possible, to defend the sites in the Pas
de Calais, the base for the V-1 “Vengeance”
weapons being launched almost haphazardly against London. When von
Choltitz surrendered Paris to the Allies nearly intact on August 25,
Hitler struck at Paris. Immediately, 120 Luftwaffe bombers dropped
incendiary bombs, killing at least 50 people. The first lethal V-2
missiles are targeted, not on London, but Paris, with 22 rockets
fired between September 7 and October 6, largely striking in the
suburbs to no military effect whatsoever.
Intriguingly,
General Eisenhower and the Allied high command had not wanted to take
Paris. They realized – as any of their professional opponents could
also see – that the need to control, feed, and otherwise supply a
major city and its civilian population would place a major strain on
their logistics, and impair the pursuit and destruction of German
armed forces before they could reach relative safety back in Germany.
A “field of ruins” would have been a warcrime of pointless
defiance.
Why this essay? Why now?
As part of my
interest in history is my focus on military history, which inevitably
leads to accounts of military disasters. Within that are the “what
the heck” moments? Just how did the instigators of this monumental
FUBAR think it was going to turn out? The classic FUBAR occurred
almost 100 years before the first use of the word, with The Charge of
the Light Brigade in the Crimean War. (1854)
To which poesied
Tennyson:
Someone had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs
but to do and die.
And then there was the poster, way back in
Spencer's Gifts, under the black lights (ultraviolet). A mouse gives
the finger to an eagle swooping down it. “Defiance” is defined in
words next to the depiction. Pretty cool poster when you're 16. But
over the years, I've spared a thought or two for the poster. And
concluded the mouse is an idiot. Not brave. Not even foolhardy. Just
stupid. Not only by getting himself into a situation he can't escape.
But by just standing there, finger out, not running, he is making the
eagle's job just that much easier. A pointless gesture. Heck, even
in “Animal House” the Deltas' “futile and stupid gesture” is
more productive than this. And there, of course, is the rub: our
culture, and notably American culture, has enthroned and enobled the
“futile and stupid gesture”, made pointless defiance a virtue.
When faced with a host of options, many bad, some worse, why reject
the one that gives the best possible outcome? Even if that best
outcome sucks, why choose instead the worst result just for some
non-tangible, transitory self-gratification? The answer is that
culture has transformed pointless defiance, enshrouded it with the
myth that, “Hey, maybe you'll win. In spite of everything, even
though this act of defiance is misguided and stupid and almost 100%
guaranteed not to succeed, you never know if you don't roll the
dice.”
Of course we also have Samson: vain, vengeful,
homicidal. His act of suicidal vengeance is praised, however, as the
result of God hearing and answering Samson's prayers, incidentally
beginning the deliverance of Samson's people from his enemies. A hero
in spite of himself.
In these four vignettes, at least one
actor decided for pointless defiance, for the futile and stupid
gesture. In Mexico, the French Foreign Legionaires mimicked
Napoleon's Guard - "La
Garde meurt mais ne se rend pas!"
("The Guard dies but does not surrender!")
but in so doing had no effect whatsoever on the French siege then
underway. Had they accepted the quarter that was offered to them not
once, not twice, but three times they would have lived with no
impairment of French Imperial designs. Their commander forfeited his
life and that of his men for a legend.
To the north a few
years later, the Irish Americans Fenian dreams are something out of
Gilbert & Sullivan, a light opera with cannons and rifle fire for
percussion and woodwinds. One can talk lightly of the raids, which
led to less than five dozen dead (both killed in action and mortally
wounded) of 40,000 men engaged in total, and the brief nature of the
scattered engagements over five years. The concept of exchanging a
kidnapped Canada for a free Ireland was rankest fantasy. But the
issues were dead serious, and were not solved or extinguished by the
defeat of the raids but returned to their home in Hibernia, with
American support, money and latterly weapons.
The Second Boer
War (or Boer War to the British, as who wished to forget that they
lost the first so quickly and decisively) was fought for notions of
liberty on the one side, and imperial domination and gold on the
other. For the Boers, the guerilla war was in the near term more
tragic than pointless after the British responded with uncommon
brutality. When the Union of South Africa was formed in 1910, just
eight years after the Boer war, Afrikaner/Boer generals from that war
became Prime Minister and War Minister. For the British, the gold
gained was oddly tarnished with not just excessive military deaths
but civilian blood as well, and pale in comparision to the
overshadowing financial cost of the war.
Paris did not burn,
but Berlin, Hamburg, Dresden, Warsaw and so many other cities did,
without even considering the devastation wrought elsewhere, notably
in Europe and Asia. But Hitler's object in Paris late August 1944 was
naked, unadulterated vengeance, unexcused and in fact contrary to any
military objective. We have only General von Choltitz's own words for
why he did not carry out his orders for pointless destruction and
defiance, and his words are sometimes contradictory, often unclear,
and always self-serving. We must remain content with the result
without false heroism and unwarranted praise.
So, that's why
this subject. Why now? The events of November 3, 2020, to January 20,
2021 are too fresh to be proper subjects for history. For now, we
must be satisfied with journalism. But they will lend themselves to
history, soon. And when that time comes, it will be good to reflect
on past follies and the trusim that while history does not repeat
itself, it does rhyme.
©
2021 Alan J. Carlson Reproduction
of this work for personal use permitted as long as the work is not
modified and the source of the work is cited.
