Peter Leonard’s Till All Our Fight Be Fought: The Olavian ‘Fallen’ and the Great War, 1914-1918 is an ambitious biographical account of the 192 former students of St Olave’s Grammar School who lost their lives in the First World War. The book seeks to humanise these individuals by chronicling their experiences, placing their service and sacrifice within the wider context of the war. However, while the work offers valuable insights into the lives of these men, it is undermined by several structural, factual and historiographical weaknesses.
One of the book’s greatest strengths lies in its biographical detail. Leonard provides individualised accounts of the fallen, ensuring that these men’s lives and sacrifices are not lost to history. His approach offers a service to genealogists, local historians and military researchers, with the inclusion of images, letters and personal reflections adding depth to the narrative. Many works on the wartime service of educational institutions focus predominantly on public schools, so Leonard’s focus on a grammar school provides a welcome addition to the historiography of the war.
Despite these merits, the book suffers from several issues. Chief among these is the absence of references. Without citations, it is difficult to determine the reliability of Leonard’s statements or to verify his sources. For example, he describes the Rangers (12th Battalion, London Regiment) during the Somme in 1916 as ‘tenacious men and, given the chance, ‘survivors’’ (p.142) but provides no evidence to support this assertion. This lack of referencing significantly weakens the book’s academic credibility.
Another major issue is the book’s lack of an index. Given the breadth of the subject matter and the extensive personal details included, an index would have greatly improved its usability for researchers. Instead, readers must manually sift through the text, making it challenging to locate specific details or cross-reference information.
The book also suffers from inconsistency in its unit designations, which makes it difficult to follow, particularly for readers unfamiliar with British Army nomenclature. The 1/5th Battalion London Regiment (London Rifle Brigade) is variously referred to as the 1st Battalion LRB (p.143), LRB (p.142), the 5th (p.142) and 5th London. Similarly, the 16th County of London Regiment is said to be in 169 Brigade alongside ‘the Fusiliers, the Rifle Brigade and the Victorias’ (p.138), which are vague terms rather than specific unit designations.
Moreover, the book contains a few factual errors. For instance, it mistakenly claims that the 47th Division failed to link up with the 56th Division at Gommecourt on 1 July 1916, when in fact it was the 46th (North Midland) Division that failed to do so (p.111). It says the 9th London Regiment was serving as ‘part of 140th Brigade, 47th (Division)’ at Cambrai in late 1917 when it was serving with the 169th Brigade, 56th Division (p.254). Another error is the claim that 700,000 officers received ‘near-fatal wounds’ during the war, but only 247,061 officers were commissioned in total (p.107). These minor inaccuracies, coupled with the absence of references, cast doubt on the book’s reliability as a historical source.
Additionally, Leonard perpetuates the ‘butchers and bunglers’ narrative of British high command. This school of First World War history argues that British commanders were ignorant, incompetent bloodletters who killed their men, and is reflected in the work of John Laffin, Denis Winter, Alan Clark and Norman Dixon, as well as the themes of the 1987 BBC TV series Blackadder Goes Forth. For instance, Leonard argues that Third Ypres was launched for three reasons: General Douglas Haig’s refusal to abandon the ‘frontal assault strategy’ despite the failures on the Somme; the need to divert attention from French mutinies; and Haig’s desire for a major British victory (‘truly British glory’) before American forces arrived in significant numbers (p.177).
Leonard’s narrative often portrays the Olavian fallen as victims of a futile and tragic conflict. While the war was undoubtedly a devastating event, this perspective risks stripping these men of agency. For example, new recruits to the 18th Battalion London Regiment arriving after Christmas 1914 are described as ‘fresh and naïve’ (p.87).
There is no exploration of the ‘fallen’ as individuals with contemporary ideas, values and perspectives. One example is Leslie Yorath Sanders. He was an Olavian who was killed in action on 10th March, 1917 while serving in the Royal Engineers. He previously enlisted in the 9th Battalion, London Regiment (Queen Victoria Rifles) and had seen action at Hill 60 in April 1915, where he was wounded; he was commissioned in July 1915. After his death, Sanders’ family published a memorial book of his letters, writings and memories of friends. This was called A Soldier of England: Memorials of Leslie Yorath Sanders: Born July 5th, 1893, Killed in Action March 10th, 1917 (Dumfries: J. Maxwell & Son, Printers, 1920). Leonard mentions Sanders (pp.172-173, 175) and cites a passage where Sanders accepts his chance of death, adding ‘If I die, I die gladly’, however this is seen as his ‘philosophical approach’ and ‘down-to-earth realism’. What is not mentioned is Sanders’ patriotism, adherence to Edwardian ideas of muscular masculinity and his devout Christianity. Though alien to today’s society, these ideas are shown throughout his memorial and were social norms and values held by many young middle-class men in pre-war Britain and propagated by institutions such as St Olave’s School. There is no attempt in the book to explore these ideals that men took with them to the trenches. It may be, though not stated, that these Edwardian values do not fit with the book’s ‘lions led by donkeys’ perspective on the Great War.
Till All Our Fight Be Fought is a well-intentioned attempt to commemorate the lives of St Olave’s students who fought in the First World War and it succeeds in bringing personal stories to the forefront. However, its lack of references, minor factual inaccuracies, inconsistent terminology and butchers/bunglers historiographical perspective significantly undermine its scholarly value. While it may be of interest to those researching St Olave’s or family members of the fallen, it may not appeal to academic historians.
