Posted in 20th century America, commemoration, imperialism, journal articles, memorials, military, Vietnam War, WWII

War, Memory, and the Public Mediation of Affect: The National World War II Memorial and American Imperialism

Doss, Erika. “War, Memory, and the Public Mediation of Affect: The National World War II Memorial and American Imperialism.” Memory Studies 1, no. 2 (2008): 227-50.

Doss asserts that war memorials are flourishing around the country, especially those dedicated to the memory of WWII. In this article, she examines why people feel such a need to say thank you to those who fought over sixty years ago. Doss claims that “memorials embody a ‘cultural turn’ toward public feeling, toward affective modes of knowledge and comprehension.” (229) People want to experience history.

Importantly, Doss compares Alison Landsberg’s notion of “prosthetic memory” to Joan Scott’s understanding of experience. Landsberg claims that new forms of public cultural memory and mass technology enable anyone to personally experience the past, no matter how remote or distant or traumatic. Whereas, Scott contends that “discourses of experience are both illuminating and highly problematic.” (229) The people who have an experience understand it as authentic. But we must realize that these people are subjects who are constituted through experience. Memorials help to fabricate public subjectivity. Memorials are, to paraphrase Ann Cvektovich, “a public ‘archive of feelings’ which is encoded in their material forms, narrative content and ‘practices that surround their production and reception.’” (229) Doss points out that these affective experiences do not foreclose possibilites of social or personal transformation, but we need to understand “how and why (and which) feelings shape historical moments, concepts of citizenship, and understandings of self and national identity.” She argues that we need to understand how they work to mobilize and maintain contemporary American war memory.

WWII was always celebrated as the Great War and memorialization began almost immediately. Doss details many projects over the years, but focuses primarily on the WWII memorial on the National Mall. She discusses the many contributors and the design, noting its imperialist qualities. Doss contends that “the National World War II Memorial is not simply to say ‘thank you’ to the ‘greatest generation’, but to dramatically reconfi gure contemporary understandings of national purpose and identity. Its privileged location in America’s capital city helps promote its cause.” (240) Surprisingly, Doss shows that not everyone supported the building of this memorial. Some veterans thought that it ruined the Mall. (242) Other veterans felt like they were trying to erase the “dangerous memory” of the Vietnam War.

Doss ends by stating, “Framed by saying ‘thank you’ to the ‘greatest generation’, the National World War II Memorial is a blatant example of the manipulative dimensions of war memory.”

Posted in 19th century America, Christianity, civil religion, commemoration, journal articles, material culture, memorials, military, monuments, religion, tourism, WWI, WWII

Overseas Military Cemeteries as American Sacred Space: Mine Eyes Have Seen La Gloire

Ebel, Jonathan H. “Overseas Military Cemeteries as American Sacred Space: Mine Eyes Have Seen La Gloire.” Material Religion 8, no. 2 (2012): 183-214.

In “Overseas Military Cemeteries as American Sacred Space: Mine Eyes Have Seen La Gloire,” Jonathan H. Ebel examines twenty-three American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC) cemeteries as American sacred space.[1] The cemeteries are dedicated to fallen soldiers and war workers of World Wars I and II and stand as “powerful symbols for America’s commitment to peace overseas.”[2] By first discerning the fused Christian and American symbolism and their related theologies and mythologies, which are embedded within the memorials and markers, Ebel revealed tensions between these sacred narratives and the histories they contain and conceal.

Ebel presents a concise, consistent, and coherent argument throughout the article. He opens with a quote from a sermon presented to the congregation of Astoria, Oregon’s First Methodist Church by Reverend Aaron Allen Heist on Christmas Day 1919, which compared the Christian incarnation to soldiering. Ebel infers, “Soldiers were to America as Christ was to God: the suffering, serving incarnation of the divine will.” This analogy, connecting Christ’s sacrifice to the sacrifice of the fallen soldier, can be seen throughout the article. In the first three pages, Ebel presents his main thesis, outlines the physical sites he will analyze in order to argue his points, and then explains how he will complicate his argument. His main thesis is that the ABMC intentionally developed these cemeteries as sacred space on foreign soil as a way to legitimize both Christian and American sacrifice. His arguments and evidence show how this organization accomplished their goal. Ebel’s final section explores “spatial and narrative challenges” to the ABMC’s claims of sacrality and their implications for future American sacred spaces.[3]

Ebel, who is a religious history scholar, interpreted the symbolism and landscape of ABMC’s cemeteries through primary source materials provided on their official website. Supplementary primary source materials were gathered from Stars & Stripes; a daily United States military newspaper, an unpublished manuscript written by Major General Thomas North, who served with the ABMC for over forty-five years; War Department (now the Department of Defense) reports; documents found in several archives of personal papers; and PBS’s 2009 documentary, Hallowed Grounds: America’s Overseas Military Cemeteries. Ebel’s secondary resources include some of the most important works in this field, which include Ed Linenthal’s Sacred Ground: Americans and Their Battlefelds (1993), Ed Linenthal and David Chidester’s American Sacred Space (1995), Carolyn Marvin and David Ingle’s Blood Sacrifce and the Nation: Totem Rituals and the American Flag (1999), and Kirk Savage’s Monument Wars: Washington, D.C., the National Mall, and the Transformation of the Memorial Landscape (2009).

The article is divided into seven distinct sections. The first section establishes Ebel’s thesis and the intended approach to his argument. Within this section, he offers an overview to established scholarship. Section two, “Burying the Dead, American Style,” outlines the history of ABMC’s policy development for burying American soldiers on foreign soil. Ebel emphasizes two very important observations at the end of this section. First, he notes that “the ABMC marked the graves of unknown Great War soldiers with crosses or Stars of David in proportion to their rates of service, the graves of all unknown World War II soldiers—with a single exception in Manila—are marked with crosses.”[4] This assertion supports his claims that these American memorials on foreign soil increasingly act to legitimate Christian sacrifice. Second, Ebel claims that eight ABMC World War I cemeteries were dedicated twenty years after entry into the war, acting to reassert America’s greatness for “anyone—French, English, Belgian, German—who might think the American war effort unimpressive.”[5]

The next three sections offer case studies of specific ABMC cemeteries located in France: Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery, Normandy American Cemetery, and Suresnes American Cemetery. Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery is a World War I cemetery and Normandy American Cemetery is from World War II. Suresnes American Cemetery, which houses the war dead from both wars, is unique in that it has been dedicated three times by major American voices: President Woodrow Wilson, American Ambassador to France William C. Bullitt, and General George C. Marshall.

Ebel complicates ABMC’s sacralizing mission in the sixth section, “Ideals, Bodies, and the National Sacred,” although, he moved far too quickly through this section. He mentions various examples of people buried at these sites whose stories do not fit the overarching narrative. However, I was left with more questions than answers. The article’s conclusion calls for a more expansive understanding of these cemeteries and the soldiers buried in them. Ebel points to the heroism and saintliness expounded at these site, but he notes that “the graves hold the bodies of particular people whose own narratives of war may or may not validate this saintly narrative.”[6]

It is interesting that the article appeared in Material Religion: The Journal of Objects, Art and Belief, a journal whose mission is to “explore how religion happens in material culture – images, devotional and liturgical objects, architecture and sacred space, works of arts and mass-produced artifacts.”[7] Ebel’s article does indeed focus on religious symbolism, but it strongly concentrates on nationality, government process, and the military. Searching the journal’s online portal, numerous articles that address issues of war, the military, and soldiers have been published in this journal. If I had read this article without knowing where it was published, I would not have considered this particular journal; however, after further consideration, I am not sure that a journal dedicated to military history or religious history would publish content containing a strong symbolic interpretation such as this article.

[1] According to the ABMC’s official website, they are responsible for 26 permanent American military cemeteries and 27 federal memorials, monuments and markers, which are located in 16 foreign countries, the U.S. Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands, and the British Dependency of Gibraltar; three of the memorials are located within the United States. “Cemeteries & Memorials,” American Battle Monuments Commission, accessed February 1, 2017, https://www.abmc.gov/cemeteries-memorials. Ebel’s research focuses on the twenty-three cemeteries that were under the ABMC’s jurisdiction as of 2012.

[2] Hallowed Grounds: America’s Overseas Military Cemeteries, directed by Robert Uth (PBS Home Video, 2009).

[3] Jonathan H. Ebel, “Overseas Military Cemeteries as American Sacred Space: Mine Eyes Have Seen La Gloire,” Material Religion 8, no. 2 (2012): 188.

[4] Ibid., 195-96.

[5] Ibid., 196.

[6] Ibid., 211.

[7] Journal website: http://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?show=aimsScope&journalCode=rfmr20.

Posted in gender studies, material culture, military, photographs, propaganda, racism, WWII

Victory Girls, Khaki-Wackies, and Patriotutes: The Regulation of Female Sexuality During World War II

Hegarty, Marilyn E. Victory Girls, Khaki-Wackies, and Patriotutes: The Regulation of Female Sexuality During World War II. New York: New York University Press, 2008.

Women’s bodies were nationalized and their sexuality militarized during WWII. While men’s bodies were drafted into battle, women’s bodies were called upon to support the war effort, in part, by maintaining servicemen’s morale.[1] More than 200,000 women served in the United States military during World War II, while over six million flooded the American workforce. Countless more supported the war effort through activities like selling war bonds and rationing.  Common knowledge of women’s contributions during the war often is limited to images of “Rosie the Riveter.”[2]  Hegarty’s Victory Girls, Khaki-Wackies, and Patriotutes presents a counter-narrative to the iconic Rosie the Riveter story. In addition to the socially acceptable roles women played during the war, tens of thousands of women supported the war effort by providing morale-boosting services to male soldiers that ranged from USO dances to more blatant forms of sexual services, such as prostitution.

While the de-sexualized Rosie was celebrated in the media, women who used their feminine wiles to serve their country faced discrimination and imprisonment from morals campaigns launched by government and social agencies. This double-standard was summed up by U.S. Public Health Service (USPHS) physician Otis Anderson, who dubbed these women “patriotutes” (part patriot, part prostitute), further blurring the line between patriotism and promiscuity (between “good” and “bad” women).[3] Advertisements and popular magazines contributed to these mixed messages by condemning promiscuity while at the same time encouraging female readers to make themselves sexually alluring to soldiers.

Authorities from government, military, health, and social reform agencies developed plans to protect the wartime state and male health by controlling what they perceived as dangerous female sexuality. They succeeded through linking prostitution with venereal disease.[4]  Even though many young women’s reputations were questionable, they were nonetheless mobilized by the state to serve the military’s needs. Hegarty points out that “[p]rostitution was illegal, promiscuity was immoral, female sexuality was dangerous, but sexual labor was essential to the war effort—a veritable catch-22.”[5] Policymakers (military and civilian) intensely debated whether to criminalize prostitution or regulate the practice by screening and licensing prostitutes.

There was not much consensus across the forty-eight states and territories. Hawaii had a longstanding and successful history of legalized prostitution, while many states shut down their brothels as soon as the May Act was implemented in 1941. Some advocates for prostitution regulation argued that policies would protect soldiers from disease and protect respectable women from soldiers. Authorities generally agreed that (white male) soldiers should not (or could not) be sexually restrained. Hegarty notes that one study suggested that men “often act with impunity because acts of aggression (including rape) are linked to traditional images of what it is to be a warrior, because of women being seen as men’s property, or because women fear to speak out.”[6] This study suggests that the warrior image these men embraced is to blame, for it promoted the mindset that soldiers have the right to rape women because that is what warriors do.

Silence around rape is a huge issue during wartime.[7] But women became the ones responsible for stopping unwanted advances.[8]  Hegarty points out that wartime statistics show that reported rapes increased, but those statistics are probably low. She writes, “It seems likely that, given the discourse of servicemen as victims and of girls and women as responsible for sexual control, many pressured sexual encounters were not defined as rape.”[9] This image of warriors as rapists is not an image that Americans will readily accept.

The belief that some bodies (female and nonwhite) were dangerous shaped government policies and social attitudes during World War II. Knowledge about deviance and disease was formed around preexisting assumptions regarding particular bodies. And because the disease in question was sexually transmitted, the bodies in question were constituted as dangerous, both morally and medically.[10] The campaigns to prevent sexually transmitted diseases from harming the health of the military focused primarily on controlling women; however, African Americans were also perceived as “sexually promiscuous” and came under scrutiny as well.[11] Hegarty sheds light on numerous biased health studies and treatments of African Americans, including the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Study. She also repeatedly shows how authorities exempted white males from the same level of scrutiny given to females and minorities.

Governmental racist policies and regulations ensured that nonwhite men (civilian and military) were controlled and contained in a variety of ways. Hegarty asserts that within the segregated military, race-based sexual politics guaranteed that African American men and women suffered numerous personal and professional indignities. Citing one case in point, Hegarty explains that in the Caribbean, military officials allowed white servicemen to cohabit with Polynesian women, but black servicemen were prevented from doing so because offspring would be considered “undesirable citizens.”[12]

[1] Hegarty, 7.

[2] Sean Irwin, “Beyond Rosie the Riveter: Women’s Contributions During World War II,” The Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History, accessed December 15, 2016. https://www.gilderlehrman.org/history-by-era/world-war-ii/resources/beyond-rosie-riveter-womens-contributions-during-world-war-ii.

[3] Hegarty, 1.

[4] Ibid., 13.

[5] Ibid., 85.

[6] Ibid., 89.

[7] Sexual assault is, and has been, a huge issue in the United States military, for men and women. Numerous books and documentaries have been published on MSA (Military Sexual Assault) that both document the issues and provide assistance to survivors.

[8] Hegarty, 160-61.

[9] Ibid., 160.

[10] Ibid., 61.

[11] Ibid., 65.

[12] Ibid., 160.

Posted in censorship, gender studies, masculinity, material culture, military, photographs, propaganda, WWII

The Male Body at War: American Masculinity During World War II

Jarvis, Christina S. The Male Body at War: American Masculinity During World War II. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2004.

Jarvis explores images of masculinity during World War II and the years leading up to war in The Male Body at War.  Proposing that America’s idealized vision of the militarized white male body was a national symbol, her study compares connections between the emerging “powerful male ‘body politic’” and the United States’ “rising status as a world power.”[1] During these years, Uncle Sam was transformed from his slender World War I form into an imposingly broad-shouldered figure during World War II.[2] Images of Uncle Sam, America, and its men were transformed into powerful fighting machines.

Her argument is based on the idea that men were emasculated by the Great Depression. New Deal employment programs such as the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and Work Projects Administration (WPA) aimed to reinvigorate the image of American manliness. Efforts intensified as the nation acquired a new sense of national purpose with its entry into the war.

Jarvis sheds light on how military medical boards implemented massive screenings to sort and categorize men in terms of their usefulness to the war effort. Relying on Michel Foucault’s definition of “technologies of power” that literally measure and codify “normality,” Jarvis shows how new understandings of deviance were constructed through medical examinations and how these classifications impacted larger society.[3]

The government restricted images of wounded and dead soldiers during the first two years of World War II.[4] Even though there were fewer than 300,000 battle deaths and approximately 671,000 servicemen suffered combat wounds, there were over 24 million hospital admissions during the war attributed to a wide range of maladies, such as malaria, dysentery, and “jungle rot.”[5] However, the true extent of the horrors of war were concealed from the public for much longer.  Jarvis notes that “American soldiers did not shed any blood in print” until May 14, 1945.[6]

Images of wounded soldiers that appeared in posters and advertisements tended to valorize warriors while simultaneously shaming citizens into giving more.[7] Images of wounded soldiers were also used to recruit women to enlist as nurses.[8]  Nevertheless, representations of wounded servicemen continued to be perceived as a threat to national manhood, so were tightly controlled by the OWI in cooperation with Hollywood studios. Representations of the physically disabled president were likewise controlled.[9] America’s soldiers and leaders represented the health of the nation and needed to stand strong.

[1] Jarvis, 4.

[2] Ibid., 35-44.

[3] Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punishment, trans. Alan Sheridan (New York: Vintage Books, 1977).

[4] Jarvis, 97.

[5] Ibid., 91-92.

[6] Ibid., 89. Hitler committed suicide on April 30, 1945 and Germany surrendered on May 8th.

[7] Ibid., 100.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid., 30-33.

Posted in censorship, film, Korean War, masculinity, material culture, military, photographs, propaganda, Vietnam War, WWII

Warrior Image: Soldiers in American Culture from the Second World War to the Vietnam Era

Huebner, Andrew J. Warrior Image: Soldiers in American Culture from the Second World War to the Vietnam Era. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008.

In Warrior Image, Andrew J. Huebner challenges a common perception that American soldiers were depicted differently in World War II than they were during the Vietnam War. He argues that the contrast between the virtuous soldier of the “good war” and the “degraded and damaged” soldier of the Vietnam War is not as stark as many people believe. Even though early images of World War II portrayed soldiers as disciplined, brave, and patriotic, darker images reflecting the horrors of war began to emerge before the war ended. By the end of the Korean and Vietnam Wars, soldiers were depicted in the media as “frustrated, disillusioned, isolated, and embittered.”[1]  Yet, each of these wars began as a good war and its soldiers had been perceived as virtuous warriors, but events destroyed those images.

Huebner argues that images of foot soldiers in American culture from the 1940s through the 1970s have evolved over time, but warriors in all three wars have been portrayed as both heroes and victims. News photography, advertisements, propaganda, films, magazines, novels, and poetry all contributed to these changing images. His book features only males, most of whom are white. He uses terms such as soldier, veteran, warrior, serviceman, and GI broadly to include members of all military branches, but ignores airmen, seamen, medics, and those who served at headquarters or behind the lines because most of the war-related imagery in this period featured the infantry.[2] Huebner’s interpretations of how American warriors have been characterized comes primarily from depictions of soldiers and veterans in Hollywood films, but also in popular novels, magazines, television, and advertisements.[3]

Huebner contends that the most important element of war imagery relates to how these images elicit public sympathy for and identification with the soldiers, rather than how they work to promote the war effort. He writes, “The primary role of the media in wartime in the Anglo-American world has long been to maintain the ties of sentiment between the soldiers in the field and the home front.”[4] However, audience emotions can be manipulated for various purposes.

The OWI (Office of War Information) worked to influence popular publications’ portrayals of wounded soldiers by discouraging the public from pitying disabled veterans.[5] In an article published in Ladies Home Journal in July 1944, women were warned against sentimentality, “Men allowed to pity themselves will, in time, be disqualified from normal life and will end their days in veterans’ hospitals.”[6] Typical wartime photos that were published in magazines and newspapers showed beautiful women kissing and embracing their severely wounded fiancés, which reassured soldiers that such affection would be the reward for their sacrifices.[7] Advertisements in popular magazines followed suit. For example, an ad for Pullman sleeping cars showed cheerful wounded soldiers on trains being waited on by attractive nurses.[8]

However, the OWI changed their standards according to their needs. Huebner shows that censorship was loosened when public attention began to wane. Beginning in 1943, the government began releasing grisly photos to motivate the public. These photos had previously been consigned to the War Department’s “Chamber of Horrors” file.[9] OWI even requested that advertisers include images of dead U.S. soldiers to help raise money for the war effort even though depictions of fallen soldiers challenged the image of manly invulnerability. Huebner notes Christina Jarvis’ discussion of wounded soldiers in The Male Body at War: American Masculinity During World War II, “War produces alternative or ‘abject’ masculinities that exist alongside and in opposition to dominant cultural representations.”[10] In other words, even though Americans visualized soldiers, nation, and manhood to be invincible, war made them confront more sobering and realistic images.

[1] Andrew J. Huebner, Warrior Image: Soldiers in American Culture from the Second World War to the Vietnam Era (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008), 11.

[2] Ibid., 8.

[3] For information on Hollywood and the military, see David L. Robb, Operation Hollywood: How the Pentagon Shapes and Censors the Movies (Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus Books, 2004); Carl Boggs and Tom Pollard, Hollywood War Machine: U.S. Militarism and Popular Culture (Boulder: Paradigm Pub., 2007); Matthew Alford and Michael Parenti, Reel Power: Hollywood Cinema and American Supremacy (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010); Geoff Martin and Erin Steuter, Pop Culture Goes to War: Enlisting and Resisting Militarism in the War on Terror (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2010).

[4] Huebner, 11. The book does not provide any information about public attitudes toward war, which would have helped to solidify his points.

[5] Ibid., 26-29.

[6] Ibid., 27.

[7] Ibid., 28.

[8] Ibid., 29.

[9] Ibid., 29-32.

[10] Ibid., 32; Christina S. Jarvis, The Male Body at War: American Masculinity During World War II (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2004), 88.