New York Times Current History

In Short

This volume serves as a curated archival record of the First World War during a pivotal six-month window in 1915. It compiles eyewitness accounts, diplomatic correspondence, military reports, and press reactions to events like the sinking of the Lusitania and the introduction of poison gas at Ypres. By presenting these primary sources side-by-side, it captures the intense, often contradictory atmosphere of the period. It has lasted because it preserves the raw, unpolished urgency of historical events before they were smoothed over by the distance of time or the revisionism of later scholarship.

The Story

The narrative arc of this volume centers on the collapse of neutrality and the escalation of violence in 1915. It opens with the shock of the Lusitania sinking, an event that dominates the collection’s early sections. Through survivors' testimonies, coroners' verdicts, and German official justifications, the book details the human toll and the ensuing diplomatic friction between the United States and Germany. These reports are woven together with President Woodrow Wilson’s speeches, which articulate a burgeoning American philosophy of "humanity first," contrasting sharply with the increasingly desperate and aggressive rhetoric emanating from the front lines.

As the focus shifts to the European theater, the story turns to the grim realities of the trenches. The text documents the introduction of chlorine gas as a weapon, providing technical reports on its effects and the resulting chaos at Ypres. The narrative then expands to cover the broader geopolitical shifts of the spring, most notably Italy’s decision to abandon the Triple Alliance and enter the war. The tone shifts from the diplomatic maneuvering in Washington to the brutal, grinding operations on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Through dispatches from the front, the reader follows the massive scale of the Turkish defense and the catastrophic loss of life among the Allied forces.

Interspersed with these military developments are documents detailing the harrowing experiences of Belgian civilians under German occupation. The inclusion of committee reports and diaries provides a harrowing account of the system of terror used in towns like Aerschot and Alost, where the use of human shields and the summary execution of noncombatants became common occurrences. The collection concludes by looking inward at the domestic struggles of the belligerent nations, featuring debates over munitions production, the "drink question" among industrial workers, and the early social efforts to care for "war babies." By the end, the reader is left with a mosaic of a world transformed: a place where the lines between the front line and the home front have dissolved, and where the moral arguments for war have been irrevocably altered by the sheer scale of the carnage.

How It Unfolds

The shock of the sinking The text immediately confronts the reader with the sinking of the Lusitania, pairing harrowing firsthand accounts from survivors with the icy, technical justifications provided by the German government. This juxtaposition highlights the immediate divide between the human cost and the cold logic of "war zone" policies.

The diplomatic deadlock President Wilson’s addresses to the nation attempt to define an American identity centered on humanitarianism and neutral rights. These speeches serve as a counterpoint to the growing calls for military mobilization and the cancellation of diplomatic relations with Germany.

The chemical turning point The focus shifts to the Ypres salient, where the introduction of poison gas marks a horrifying evolution in combat. Official reports detail the physical agony of the soldiers and the strategic panic that ensued as the nature of the battlefield changed overnight.

The expansion of the conflict Italy’s formal entry into the war and the launch of the Gallipoli campaign illustrate the widening geographical scope of the conflict. The reports describe the enormous logistical hurdles of naval warfare against land-based fortifications and the immense casualty counts.

The civilian experience Documents and diaries from occupied Belgium expose the cruelty faced by those caught in the path of the German advance. The evidence of summary executions and the burning of villages shifts the narrative from military strategy to the moral collapse of the rules of war.

The People

The figures in this volume are defined by the roles they occupy within the machinery of war. Woodrow Wilson emerges as a figure of caution, attempting to steer the United States through an impossible moral landscape with speeches that emphasize the "mission of America." His restraint is contrasted by George W. Wickersham, who embodies the growing frustration of those who believe that peace has become a sign of national weakness. The victims, such as Alfred Vanderbilt and Charles Frohman, are immortalized in the accounts of the Lusitania sinking, their final, calm moments standing in stark relief against the chaotic violence of the torpedo strike. On the front lines, officers like Major Norsworth and Captain McCuaig become symbols of individual sacrifice, their deaths serving as the human evidence of the "devoted" service required by the conflict. Finally, Premier Salandra of Italy represents the calculated, solemn transition of a nation from peace to war, marking the moment when neutrality becomes an unsustainable political position. Each person is rendered not as a complex psychological portrait, but as a representative of the choices, ideals, or tragedies that defined the era.

In Its Own Voice

"It was cold-blooded, deliberate murder, and nothing else--the greatest murder the world has ever known."

A survivor of the Lusitania sinking expresses the visceral horror felt by those who witnessed the attack, contrasting it with the technical justifications offered by the belligerent powers.

"'Tis man's perdition to be safe, when for the truth he ought to die."

George W. Wickersham uses this line of poetry to criticize the American administration’s policy of neutrality, arguing that safety is an insufficient goal in the face of perceived moral rot.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book explores the death of the nineteenth-century ideal of "civilized warfare." It asks whether an industrialized nation can maintain its moral standing while engaging in total war. The primary concern is the disintegration of the barrier between combatants and noncombatants, as evidenced by the targeting of passenger liners, the use of poison gas, and the deliberate terrorizing of Belgian civilians. The book documents the agony of a world trying to apply old rules to new, mechanical horrors. It is an argument about the necessity of national defense in an era of global destruction, constantly circling the question of whether a neutral power can truly remain "above" a conflict that consumes every aspect of human life.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the raw, unedited texture of primary sources will find this volume deeply compelling. It does not offer a modern narrative arc or a hindsight-driven analysis; instead, it provides the "first draft" of history, capturing the confusion, fervor, and horror of 1915 exactly as it was experienced by those living through it. There is a haunting quality to reading these reports, knowing the full scale of the tragedy that was yet to come.

The book is challenging in its presentation—the prose is frequently dense, bureaucratic, or polemical, reflecting the period's distinct journalistic style. Some readers may find the period attitudes—particularly the often-blunt assessments of national character and the casual acceptance of imperial logic—jarring. The writing is not designed for easy consumption; it is an artifact of a specific, intense moment in global history. However, for those interested in the transition from the old world to the modern, this book offers an unparalleled sense of presence. It leaves the reader with a stark reminder of how quickly the norms of international conduct can dissolve, a theme that feels as urgent today as it did in 1915.