The Writings of Camillo Mac Bica, Ph.D.
All Quiet on the Western Front:
Required Reading Before Enlisting in the Military
Camillo Mac Bica
"This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it. It will try simply to tell of a generation of men who, even though they may have escaped shells, were destroyed by war.” Erich Maria Remarque
Considered by many to be the greatest anti-war novel, Erich Maria Remarque’s “All Quiet on the Western Front” is much more than a well-written war story. Remarque’s realistic depiction of trench warfare told from the perspective of young soldiers is, arguably, the most accurate and accessible account of the war experience and
the effects of combat ever written, no matter the particular conflict or generation of warrior.
Some may find my claim regarding the importance of “All Quiet” to be overstated given that it is a novel and not a personal memoir or a historical account. Remarque did experience combat on the Western Front during World War One, was wounded several times, the last quite seriously. Consequently, Remarque’s writing, his observations and insights, were informed by his first-hand experience of the nature and impact of war, both of which he masterfully portrayed and explained in this tragic and poignant story of several young men encouraged, perhaps coerced is better, into military service by those whose influence they respected, particularly their schoolmaster Kantorek.
Rather than to relate factual events as they happened, Remarque chose the novel, narrative fiction, and to use the story – poignant and gut-wrenching dialogue and imagery – to allow the reader access to the world of killing and dying. His goal and his hope were to enable the reader not only to understand but, more importantly, to feel what goes on in war and how it impacts the warrior. Given the propensity of memoirists, documentarians, and historians, despite the best of intentions, to sanitize war, or to color its pain and horror as important, necessary, glorious, irresistibly exciting, even sacred, and a way for young men and women “ardent for some desperate glory” to gain recognition, respect, admiration, and gratitude from others, narrative fiction, provides the author with the means and the opportunity to render a more truthful account. Tim O’Brien in “The Things They Carried,” a novel about the Vietnam War and a close second in importance to “All Quiet,” rather enigmatically explains. “That's what fiction is for. It's for getting at the truth when the truth isn't sufficient for the truth.” (O’Brien, 1990, p.173)
As Remarque makes clear in his introduction, “All Quiet” was not politically motivated. Nor was his intent to advocate for a pacifistic ideology, though his experiences in the trenches had clearly convinced him of war’s futility and waste. I would argue that the reason “All Quiet” is described as being antiwar is a testament to Remarque’s skill in accomplishing his ends, to tell the truth, demystify war, and most importantly, to engage the readers’ emotions. Further, it is a consequence of a determination made by the reader, including those with little previous understanding of war and with no predisposition toward pacifism, once having been allowed access to and made to feel the reality and the horror of war stripped of hyperbole and patriotic mythology, that the cost of war to all involved is such that rational and moral people must become antiwar, i.e., seek to ensure that World War I indeed be the “war to end all wars.”
"Now he is lying there – and for what reason? Everybody in the whole world ought to be made to walk past his bed and be told: “This is Franz Kemmerich: he is nineteen and a half, and he doesn’t want to die! Don’t let him die!" (Remarque, 1929, p. 29)
“All Quiet on the Western Front,” is a walk past Kemmerich’s bed. Though there is much to learn from “All Quiet” about the evil of war and its profound effects on all it touches, I will refer the reader only to Remarque’s brilliant portrayals of several important factors and experiences contributing to what has of late been identified as Moral Injury – specifically, the process of creating soldiers who will kill, the dehumanization of the "enemy," and the profound alienation
Remarque’s unflinching depiction of trench warfare told from the perspective of young soldiers is, arguably, the most accurate account of the war experience and the effects of combat ever written, no matter the particular conflict or generation of warrior.
warriors suffer as a consequence of the indoctrination and the experience.
Creating Soldiers Who Will Kill
War is inevitably overwhelming and killing another human being a devastating act usually antithetical not only to ordinary conceptions of morality and to what psychologist and former Army Ranger Colonel Dave Grossman describes as a natural – innate – reluctance toward killing members of one's own species. He writes,
". . . there is within most men an intense resistance to
killing their fellow man. A resistance so strong that, in many circumstances, soldiers on the battlefield will die before they can overcome it." (Grossman, 1995, p.3)
To be successful in battle, recruits must overcome this reluctance to kill and develop "an immediate killing response." Basic military training, therefore, programs recruits utilizing Pavlovian stimulus-response conditioning techniques termed “reflexive fire training,” to react automatically and without hesitation to an enemy
and kill him. Paul Baumer, Remarque’s main protagonist, describes this process of instilling young men (and now women) with the values and behaviors appropriate to the warrior identity.
"So we were put through every conceivable refinement of parade ground soldiering till we often howled with rage . . . We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough – and that was good; for these attributes were just what we lacked. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad." (Remarque, 1929, p. 26)
Photograph: John Warwick Brooke/Getty Images
Further, the immediate detrimental instinctual and moral impact of killing another human being may be ameliorated, at least temporarily, through a technique termed "distancing.” Consequently, an important goal of basic training is to create “distance" between the warrior and those they must kill by accentuating (and fabricating) the "enemy's" cultural, racial, ethnic, and moral differences. That is, to instill in the recruits, an abstract perception of the enemy as evil, demonic, subhuman, nonhuman, and socially inferior. J. Glenn Gray, a philosopher and veteran of World War Two writes,
"The typical image of the enemy is conditioned by the need to hate him without limits . . . Most soldiers are able to kill and be killed more easily in warfare if they possess an image of the enemy sufficiently evil to inspire hatred and repugnance." (Gray, 1959, pp. 132-133)
In a memorable incident from “All Quiet,” Paul Baumer impulsively stabs an enemy soldier who sought refuge in the bomb crater in which he was hiding. As Paul (and the reader) endure the hours as the suffering soldier slowly dies, we learn that his name is Gerard Duval, that he was a printer, with a wife and child who will never see him again. Paul is emotionally overwhelmed with regret as he realizes the humanity of the other, the repugnance of what he had done, and how he had been programmed unconditionally to demonize and to hate him.
"But now, for the first time, I see you are a man like me. I thought of your hand-grenades, of your bayonet, of your rifle; now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. Forgive me, comrade. We always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony — Forgive me, comrade; how could you be my enemy? "(Remarque, 1929, P. 223)
They did not tell Paul, of course, or any other warrior of the enemy's humanity because it is part of the deception, the process of conditioning, necessary if human beings are to become effective warriors and overcome their reluctance to kill. Inevitably, however, the deception is revealed and the warrior is left to confront the anguish and grief, the moral injury that accompanies the realization that he has killed "poor devils" just like himself.
As the nature and the rules governing their daily lives have changed so completely and abruptly, returning warriors suffered profound disorientation, what I have termed elsewhere as "moral identity confusion” (Bica, 2017), perceiving themselves adrift between two worlds, the world they recognized as their place of origin – though, now, quite foreign and inhabited by alien though recognizable individuals they had once loved – and the world of killing and destruction of which they now feel a part.
"Upon my return to the world (the United States), I felt a stranger in my own home. Things were different . . . or maybe I was different. As much as I hated the war, at least there I felt I belonged . . . I knew what was expected of me and after some thirteen months in country (in Vietnam), I was able to fulfill those expectations . . . Here I am a misfit, an aberration, isolated and alone.” (Bica, 1979)
Remarque brilliantly portrays the abandonment, isolation, and alienation many warriors suffer following their return home after having experienced the death and destruction – having grown old – at the front. While on leave, Paul is conflicted,
"When I see them here, in their rooms, in their offices, about their occupations, I feel an irresistible attraction in it, I would like to be here too and forget the war; but also it repels me, it is so narrow . . . while out at the front the splinters are whining over the shell-holes and star-shells go up, the wounded are carried back on waterproof sheets and comrades crouch in the trenches. — They are different men here, men I cannot properly understand, whom I envy and despise."(Remarque, 1929, p. 169)
Disconnected from their ethical foundations – their frame of reference with which to structure their world – returning warriors' lives no longer had meaning, their world became incoherent, and their relationship to it and to other human beings, even close loved ones, became incomprehensible. Paul elaborates.
“You are at home, you are at home.” But a sense of strangeness will not leave me. I cannot feel at home amongst these things. There is my mother, there is my sister, there my case of butterflies, and there the mahogany piano – but I am not myself there. There is a distance, a veil between us . . . It is I, of course that have changed in the interval. There lies a gulf between that time and today . . . But now I see that I have been crushed without knowing it. I find I do not belong here any more, it is a foreign world. (Remarque, 1929, p. 160, 169)
Tim O’Brien provides the reader with guidance for identifying truth in story telling.
“A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things men have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue. As a first rule of thumb, therefore, you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil." (O’Brien, 1990, p. 68)
All Quiet on the Western Front is a masterful work of truth-telling. Remarque’s dialogue and imagery engage the reader both intellectually and emotionally allowing access to a world alien to all except the relatively few who have suffered the horror of war. It is no wonder, then, that so many who read “All Quiet” understand and feel the obscenity and evil of war, no wonder they perceive the novel as antiwar. Consequently, All Quiet on the Western Front should be required reading for all contemplating enlisting in the military and/or sending young men and women to fight, kill and to die in war.
Bica, C. M. (2017). Beyond PTSD: The Moral Casualties of War. New York: Gnosis Press.
Bica, C. M. (1979). War Journals. Unpublished manuscript.
Gray, J.G. (1959). The Warriors, Reflections on Men in Battle. New York: Harper and Row.
Grossman, D. (1995). On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society. Boston: Little, Brown.
O’Brien, T. (1990). The Things The Carried, Broadway Books. New York: Broadway Books.
Remarque, E. M. (1929). All Quiet on the Western Front. New York: Ballantine Books.
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