A captivating new publication explores the role of wine as a strategic tool for managing troops on the Western Front during World War I.
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Stuart Walton presents a review of A Thirst for Wine and War: The Intoxication of French Soldiers on the Western Front by Adam D Zientek.
An increasing number of studies raise the question of whether warfare can truly be understood without considering the psychotropic influences on those involved. Historical accounts reveal that Roman legions carried wine rations during campaigns, with vineyards established in regions they conquered. During the Thirty Years’ War in the early 17th century, English soldiers on the European continent adopted the practice of drinking local spirits, notably genever, before battles, contributing to the term “Dutch courage.” Similarly, during World War II, the provision of amphetamines and methamphetamines to soldiers played a significant role alongside their inherent drives for conquest and resistance. What exactly fuels these drives? How are they harnessed and maintained through prolonged periods of conflict and hardship without the use of stimulants?
These microhistories of wartime prosecution resonate with the shift toward materialist perspectives in history. To uncover the roots of collective consciousness, we need to explore beyond cultural foundations to the entangled origins of culture found in consumption habits, the self-identity shaped by what people eat, drink, and consume. The histories of intoxication are intriguing, particularly due to the reciprocal relationship they create between the use of psychoactive substances and the identities of the societies that partake in them. Do certain plants, such as coffee or tobacco, spur specific cultural advancements, or do they merely reflect the cultural habits of their consumers? Furthermore, what occurs when their use becomes a mandated practice for ideological reasons?
These themes are central to a compelling and expanding series from the McGill-Queens academic press in Montreal titled “Intoxicating Histories,” of which A Thirst for Wine and War by UC Davis historian Adam Zientek delivers a significant contribution. Zientek concentrates on the utilization of wine and eau-de-vie by French soldiers, both during combat and their time off, on the Western Front of World War I. Through a daily ration of alcohol, soldiers caught in the brutal stalemate of the French front were steered into a state of combat readiness while also being medicated against the grief, suffering, and persistent filth that defined the battlefield. It presents a cautionary narrative adorned with repeated instances of heroic surrender and unruly resistance to the military demands that unleashed the devastation of the Great War upon Europe initially.
The story that Zientek narrates with impressive narrative momentum in A Thirst for Wine and War outlines an unexpected evolution in official perspectives toward soldiers’ alcohol consumption. Remarkably, France led temperance movements at the beginning of the 20th century. Numerous cautionary accounts highlighted the harmful impacts of alcohol on soldiers’ esprit de combat, including those conscripts serving in the military. Following the seventh international conference on alcohol abuse held in Antwerp in 1899, military leaders aimed to instill the value of abstinence in the ranks. A French soldier was expected to exemplify the pinnacle of Spartan self-control.
The rigidity of this moral outlook struggled to endure beyond the initial weeks of conflict in 1914. Alcohol followed the fighting units like a loyal companion, and even prior to the war’s commencement, local taverns known as débits had begun to emerge around military installations. In an attempt to counter their appeal, the army established retail cooperatives for soldiers, where they were given measured portions of wine. This initiative was met with disdain from the outset, along with educational sessions addressing the hazards of alcoholism that were scheduled for the men’s entertainment during the challenging winter months.
In the war’s early days, troop units indulged in opportunistic drinking, taking advantage of any leftover wine found in plundered villages or gratefully accepting what locals could provide from their scant supplies. To create a more consistent source, winemakers united to promote the vin aux soldats initiative, allocating a portion of their output to the soldiers on the front lines. A piece written in October 1914 by winemaker Louis Martin, calling on the national War Ministry to establish a daily wine ration for the troops, received positive attention, aligning with the cultural belief that wine belonged to every French citizen. Distributions began the following month.
Wine was supplied to French soldiers for the duration of the four-year conflict. And not only wine. Although there had long been a distinction in France between wholesome, valor-inspiring wine and the degrading effects of distilled spirits, in reality, both types were provided to the troops, with the former referred to as pinard in the everyday language, and the latter as gnôle. An unsuccessful attempt to mix wine with cider was met with the scorn typical of a French patriot, and throughout most of the war, individual soldiers determined how to drink their rations. It was common to take a shot of raw spirit prior to combat, but occasionally the eau-de-vie was given to the men as an apéritif, acting as a startling precursor to the more comforting wine that would follow.
Alcohol served as both a stimulant that bolstered soldiers’ courage and a means of helping them cope with the brutal realities they faced. It instigated reckless behavior and then provided a remedy for it. Civilians were instructed to reduce their wine consumption by two-thirds to ensure sufficient supplies for the military. However, to dismiss the alcohol system as purely exploitative would overlook the periodic rebellions and unrest among deployed divisions and those on leave, which are detailed in two chapters of Zientek’s study. While many took note of the poor quality of some wines early in the war, by 1917, these outbreaks of discontent stemmed specifically from the profound despair caused by the ongoing conflict. When would it all conclude? What justification did officers have for continually sending fatigued and disheartened soldiers—who had already witnessed atrocities beyond imagination—back to the front lines?
Zientek’s careful examination of military records reveals how these unruly acts of defiance, often ignited by alcohol, were sometimes allowed to unfold. It was frequently deemed more perilous to quash them, and ultimately, they dissipated like smoke from artillery fire in the hours following the chaos as the soldiers sobered up. One of the most haunting elements of World War I’s tragedy is that broken men consistently returned to the trenches. Within the recorded expressions of disgust from inebriated soldiers during the revolts, there exists the essence of a principled uprising against the collision of empires that disregarded the pain of individual lives and their families. Yet, the fury always faded with the hangover.
The wine ration remained in place in France throughout the interwar years. As the 20th century advanced, other psychoactive substances began to play a crucial role in warfare. German soldiers fighting for the Third Reich were given D-IX, a mixture of cocaine, methamphetamine, and a synthetic opioid that would have been a sensational hit on urban streets if it continued to be produced post-war. Zientek thoroughly references the most detailed history of intoxicants in warfare, Łukasz Kamieński’s Shooting Up (2016), to illustrate that war is nearly inconceivable without the alteration of consciousness. This does not condemn intoxication itself as malevolent; rather, it critiques the exploitative ways it can be manipulated by authorities eager to restrict it from their citizens when it no longer serves their interests.
Regarding the wine and eau-de-vie provided to French soldiers during World War I, alcohol served three key roles, as Zientek articulately demonstrates: It fostered a gladiatorial spirit; it consoled that same spirit when it had been shattered by what it was compelled to witness and endure; and it illuminated the path to fierce defiance when circumstances became unbearable. Had it, against all odds, brought the Western Front to a staggering halt—from the fields of Flanders to the slopes of the Vosges—it could have even transformed into a sacrament of celebration marking the defeat of aggressive nationalism. However, nationalism would endure to battle another day—once again sustained and relieved by alcohol and drugs.
A Thirst for Wine and War: The Intoxication of French Soldiers on the Western Front
Adam D Zientek
Published by McGill-Queens University Press, this book spans 272 pages and is available in paperback for $42.95 and in hardcover for $110 / £99.