Jenny Macleod – författare

The British-led Mediterranean Expeditionary Force that attacked the Ottoman Empire at Gallipoli in 1915 was a multi-national affair, including Australian, New Zealand, Irish, French, and Indian soldiers. Ultimately a failure, the campaign ended with the withdrawal of the Allied forces after less than nine months and the unexpected victory of the Ottoman armies and their German allies.In Britain, the campaign led to the removal of Churchill from his post as First Lord of the Admiralty and the abandonment of the plan to attack Germany via its ''soft underbelly'' in the East. Thereafter, it was largely forgotten on a national level, commemorated only in specific localities linked to the campaign. In post-war Turkey, by contrast, the memory of Gallipoli played an important role in the formation of a Turkish national identity, celebrating both the ordinary soldier and the genius of the republic''s first president, Mustafa Kemal. The campaign served a similarly important formative role in both Australia and New Zealand, where it is commemorated annually on Anzac Day. For the southern Irish, meanwhile, the bitter memory of service for the King in a botched campaign was forgotten for decades. Shaped initially by the imperatives of war-time, and the needs of the grief-stricken and the bereft, the memory of Gallipoli has been re-made time and again over the last century. For the Turks an inspirational victory, for many on the Allied side a glorious and romantic defeat, for others still an episode best forgotten, ''Gallipoli'' has meant different things to different people, serving by turns as an occasion of sincere and heartfelt sorrow, an opportunity for separatist and feminist protest, and a formative influence in the forging of national identities.

The British-led Mediterranean Expeditionary Force that attacked the Ottoman Empire at Gallipoli in 1915 was a multi-national affair, including Australian, New Zealand, Irish, French, and Indian soldiers. Ultimately a failure, the campaign ended with the withdrawal of the Allied forces after less than nine months and the unexpected victory of the Ottoman armies and their German allies.In Britain, the campaign led to the removal of Churchill from his post as First Lord of the Admiralty and the abandonment of the plan to attack Germany via its ''soft underbelly'' in the East. Thereafter, it was largely forgotten on a national level, commemorated only in specific localities linked to the campaign. In post-war Turkey, by contrast, the memory of Gallipoli played an important role in the formation of a Turkish national identity, celebrating both the ordinary soldier and the genius of the republic''s first president, Mustafa Kemal. The campaign served a similarly important formative role in both Australia and New Zealand, where it is commemorated annually on Anzac Day. For the southern Irish, meanwhile, the bitter memory of service for the King in a botched campaign was forgotten for decades. Shaped initially by the imperatives of war-time, and the needs of the grief-stricken and the bereft, the memory of Gallipoli has been re-made time and again over the last century. For the Turks an inspirational victory, for many on the Allied side a glorious and romantic defeat, for others still an episode best forgotten, ''Gallipoli'' has meant different things to different people, serving by turns as an occasion of sincere and heartfelt sorrow, an opportunity for separatist and feminist protest, and a formative influence in the forging of national identities.

The British-led Mediterranean Expeditionary Force that attacked the Ottoman Empire at Gallipoli in 1915 was a multi-national affair, including Australian, New Zealand, Irish, French, and Indian soldiers. Ultimately a failure, the campaign ended with the withdrawal of the Allied forces after less than nine months and the unexpected victory of the Ottoman armies and their German allies.In Britain, the campaign led to the removal of Churchill from his post as First Lord of the Admiralty and the abandonment of the plan to attack Germany via its 'soft underbelly' in the East. Thereafter, it was largely forgotten on a national level, commemorated only in specific localities linked to the campaign. In post-war Turkey, by contrast, the memory of Gallipoli played an important role in the formation of a Turkish national identity, celebrating both the ordinary soldier and the genius of the republic's first president, Mustafa Kemal. The campaign served a similarly important formative role in both Australia and New Zealand, where it is commemorated annually on Anzac Day. For the southern Irish, meanwhile, the bitter memory of service for the King in a botched campaign was forgotten for decades. Shaped initially by the imperatives of war-time, and the needs of the grief-stricken and the bereft, the memory of Gallipoli has been re-made time and again over the last century. For the Turks an inspirational victory, for many on the Allied side a glorious and romantic defeat, for others still an episode best forgotten, 'Gallipoli' has meant different things to different people, serving by turns as an occasion of sincere and heartfelt sorrow, an opportunity for separatist and feminist protest, and a formative influence in the forging of national identities.

This new book traces the disparities in the memory of Gallipoli that are evident in the countries that participated in the campaign. It explores the way in which history is written at the personal, local, professional, and national levels.This study tackles key questions about just how the history of any given event comes to be written in a certain way and how very different versions of an event can compete for attention. Often one particular version holds the field drowning out its rivals. The Gallipoli campaign of 1915 serves as an excellent case study through which the process of 'making history' can be observed. Among the case studies are Martin Gilbert on Churchill, Keith Jeffery on Gallipoli and Ireland, and David Dutton on the French view of a campaign in which they were more heavily involved than the Australians. Christopher Pugsley uncovers the reality behind the myths of Anzac, and Keith Grieves writes on the local commemoration of the campaign in Sussex. Other chapters consider the writing of unit histories, the professional study of the campaign in the development of amphibious warfare, the romance of the British cultural history of Gallipoli, and the shifts that are evident in the portrayal of Anzacs in Australian cinema.

This new book traces the disparities in the memory of Gallipoli that are evident in the countries that participated in the campaign. It explores the way in which history is written at the personal, local, professional, and national levels.This study tackles key questions about just how the history of any given event comes to be written in a certain way and how very different versions of an event can compete for attention. Often one particular version holds the field drowning out its rivals. The Gallipoli campaign of 1915 serves as an excellent case study through which the process of 'making history' can be observed. Among the case studies are Martin Gilbert on Churchill, Keith Jeffery on Gallipoli and Ireland, and David Dutton on the French view of a campaign in which they were more heavily involved than the Australians. Christopher Pugsley uncovers the reality behind the myths of Anzac, and Keith Grieves writes on the local commemoration of the campaign in Sussex. Other chapters consider the writing of unit histories, the professional study of the campaign in the development of amphibious warfare, the romance of the British cultural history of Gallipoli, and the shifts that are evident in the portrayal of Anzacs in Australian cinema.

The British cultural history of the Gallipoli campaign has been overlooked until now – this is a significant book as it offers the first real opportunity for this important campaign to be included in undergraduate courses on WWI. The commemoration of war is a particularly vibrant area of study – Anzac Day, commemorating the landings that began the Gallipoli campaign, is central to Australian national consciousness and this book examines why. A crucial argument in the cultural history of the First World War was sparked by Paul Fussell's contention that the war signified a profound cultural rupture; in widening the debate from the Western Front, this book supports the counter argument that romantic modes of expression retained resonance and utility. In Australia, the renewal of the story of Gallipoli by historians and film-makers (notably Peter Weir's 1981 film starring Mel Gibson) has profoundly altered the national sense of identity and society's perceptions of the armed forces; the authors explains how the writing of this particular event has developed and achieved this central position. An essential volume for those interested in British military and Australian history, postcolonialism and nation building, from academics and students through to the general reader.

This new book traces the disparities in the memory of Gallipoli that are evident in the countries that participated in the campaign. It explores the way in which history is written at the personal, local, professional, and national levels.