A Soldier's Boots

 

In August 1914 the Imperial German Army mobilized  3,822,450 soldiers who were then ordered to attack on two fronts, eastwards to Russia and westwards to France. Every man needed a uniform, a helmet, a field kit, a gun, and a pair of boots. By late summer the Kaiser's quartermasters would issue around  7,644,900 boots. They would need a lot more. It was going to be a very long march.  

A single leather hide was typically large enough to make 3 to 4 pairs of boots. So a lot of cows and pigs  gave up their lives to shod the soldiers of World War One. But leather was used for many other things besides footwear. Countless leather harnesses, reins, belts, and straps were needed for millions of mules and daft horses who hauled artillery and supply wagons, not to mention saddles for cavalry mounts. 

This postcard photo shows six German soldiers repairing boots, a saddle and other leather gear. Across the top is a caption:

Handwerkstube im Feldzug  1914/15
~
Crafting Workshop on Campaign  1914/15

The numbers 2/5i may refer to the soldiers' company and regiment. The card was never mailed and has no marking to identify the location. 

In this photo five German soldiers relax on the ground of a forest glen. They are playing instruments—violin, zither, posthorn (a coiled up trumpet), and two guitars—as if they were entertaining a picnic. Two men sit cross-legged showing the hobnailed soles of their boots. A board in front of them has a message written in chalk.

Erinnerung an Aldersbach.  1916.
~
Remembrance of Aldersbach   1916 

Aldersbach is small town in the Bavarian district of Passau in Germany, not far from the Austrian border. The card was also never posted and has no other marks. The location may not be where the soldiers actually are. If they were a Bavarian unit, it might be where they were from. 

A larger group of ten soldiers appears on this next photo of a similar forest scene. Several men hold the same instruments as in the other photo except that instead of one violinist there are two mandolinists positioned with their instrument's peg-end pointed at the camera, almost like how a rifle is held. In the center one man grins as he sits astride a child's hobby horse. All the men have removed their tunics and rolled up their shirt sleeves for some kind of sweaty work. A caption is written on a rectangular wooden board.

"Die Lünftigen Brüder" von Stube 16 
~
"The Merry Brothers" of barrack room 16   

The word "Lünftigen" is not in German dictionaries that I could find. Two other words have nearly the same spelling. Künftigen means future and fünftigen means fifth but those words don't make sense with what we see in the photo. However with the help of Claude, my A.I. assistant, this could be a dialect spelling of Lustigen, the German word for merry, jolly, or funny, which seems more appropriate for these fellows.

Sharp-eyed readers will have spotted several similar faces in the three photos, the most striking being the man with a leathery bronze complexion, dark eyes, and a very broad mustache. It's a surprising coincidence for me as all three photos were purchased at different times, but I'm convinced this soldier and a couple of his comrades appear in all the photos. One subtle clue is the board used for the captions in the last two photos appears to be identical, as does the little pocket posthorn and the turned rod on the zither. 

The soldier in this postcard is not, as far as I can tell,  a member of the Merry Brothers, but he is occupied repairing boots. Six to be exact, not counting his own. It's a clever image produced by a German publisher as a postcard for the troops. In the top corner is a printed caption:

 Der Regimentsschuster
~
The regiment shoemaker

Other than these scenes of soldiers at work and recreation, everything else about them must remain unknown. What did they know of digging trenches in in the fields of Flanders or hauling munition wagons over the vast plains of Poland? Yet not all soldiers served in combat. Battles are often won or lost based on the simplest of military duties like feeding soldiers or refitting a boot heel. So it's not surprising that a regiment might assign a special unit to repair boots. No doubt these men knew about the terrible affliction of "trench foot" which caused thousands of casualties in all the armies of WW1. They understood how heavy ill-fitting boots brought on severe blisters, even gangrene, which could lead to amputations. So I think these soldiers took pride in their craft, confident that a hobnail was just as important as an artillery shell. 

By the end of the war in November 1918, Germany had called up over 13 million men to serve in its army and navy.  Around 2 million were killed, roughly 15 percent, and that is not counting other non-combat deaths from disease and accidents. 

These are army boots from a different war. My father, Lt. Colonel Russell Brubaker wore these during his service in Vietnam. They didn't get abused much, as fortunately during most of his time there he sat behind a desk, though he said there were a few scary moments. These boots have been stored in my basement for 25+ years now and likely weren't worn in the previous ¼ century after my dad's retirement. These are lighter and better designed for a tropical climate than his older all-leather pair which he wore as an infantryman in the Korean War. As a kid I remember trying to learn how to polish those to a spit-shine level. They had smooth leather soles and extra long laces that were challenging for a 6 year old to weave into dozens of eyelets.

Early in his military career my dad transferred from the U.S. Army's infantry corps to the transportation corps which is responsible for the army's logistical movement of troops and equipment. His work involved arranging plans for countless military trucks, amphibious ships, helicopters, and cargo planes to convey thousands of soldiers and their gear from one place to another in both peace and war. 

In the past few months the phrase "Boots on the Ground" has been so bandied about by dishonest politicians and asinine pundits that it has become an offensive cliche meme. Not only does the expression ignore the immense challenges that must be overcome to transport troops into remote foreign lands, it is cheap dehumanizing jargon that reduces soldiers into things. 

After the United States entered WW1 and later WW2, it took many months before our armed forces were assembled and ready to deploy. Generals and admirals knew then, as they should know now, that the success of any military action depends on meticulous planning. Failure to assess risk, map terrain, and identify enemy forces leads to increased casualties. It's a tragic consequence recognized by common soldiers in every war. How can any soldier be expected to do their duty if their boots are falling apart?

Next Monday will be Memorial Day, a public holiday established to honor and mourn the men and women who have given their lives in military service to the United States. It is fittingly a time of remembrance for the individuals we have lost in wars, but it should also be when we as a nation reflect on the tremendous cost of these conflicts. As citizens the best way to honor our fallen is to preserve our commitment to peace and reject all efforts to engage in another unjust and immoral war.    

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone is hard at work
with no time for chitchat.