Take Away That Bauble 5/7: The Display of War Ordnance in Walsall 1850 – 1940.

The Walsall Experience of War Ordnance and Ephemera, 1914-1918

The purpose of this section is to look at the Walsall experience of military ephemera during the years of conflict, with special reference to the work of Jennifer Wellington,[1] in the aim of understanding what emotions were experienced by Walsall people when confronted with militaria (friendly or hostile), and whether Walsall was unusual in these emotions.

Much has been made here that over time the public (especially in Walsall), and the army itself, held a gamut of feelings over war, soldiers and the display of militaria. Wellington acknowledges this heterogeneous confusion when looking at displays of militaria: ‘It would be unwise, however, to claim the entirety of the audience… were swayed by the official rhetoric surrounding the displays’.[2]

Nevertheless, there are trends: Wellington chiefly believes that arms and armour, especially if they have been in battle, answer a need of non-combatants to seek the war experience through primary material.[3] This sentiment has merit: when UC5, a German mine-laying submarine, was captured by the British in 1916 it was exhibited to large crowds, many of whom were non-combatants, in London.[4] While Wellington’s belief is valid, it is not convincing that this is the only or even strongest or reason for curiosity in war ephemera – especially in time of war – when looking at the Walsall experience. Two other significant reasons are proposed here: that with the collective of the Council it was more about patriotism and civic pride and second, Walsallians had experienced war through the Zeppelins, and sought less to experience war than reassurance that Britain would prevail.

In October 1914, John Lazenby, a Walsall travel agent, decided to act upon his need to seek the war experience – which he translated into ‘curiosity’ – by deciding to go and visit the recent battlefields on the river Marne.[5] Lazenby managed to travel with Doctor Harry Shore, Walsall Medical Officer for Health and both wrote accounts for the newspaper in an upbeat style, praising the ‘light-hearted and cheerful’ Tommy and the friendly French, before turning on the devastation caused by the barbarity of the ‘Kaiser’s Hun’.[6]

There is little in their testimony that mentions war ordnance, but where it does it is more for the reassurance it offered – that the allies stood prepared with all its array of weaponry: both mention ‘numerous’ aeroplanes and searchlights, for example, ‘in readiness for the approach of any German Taube’.[7] Lazenby also delights in reeling off a number of German regimental flags that are on display in Paris, which also offers some reassurance.

Shore makes a point regarding ‘battlefield souvenirs’, as he did not have any as the Parisians had secured any fragments of shrapnel and rifle bullets, while: ‘enterprising farmers in the district had hidden away dozens of German rifles, helmets etc., awaiting a favourable opportunity of bringing them to light to and securing a good price from curio-hunters’. Clearly, according to Shore, not everyone sought souvenirs to sate a personal need for self-reflection or understanding the war experience – they were lucrative, too. Lazenby did collect a few souvenirs, which the newspaper did not deem worthy of description. Whatever they were, Lazenby offered them to the Walsall Free Library in January 1915.[8] They were accepted, the first war ephemera collected by Walsall’s Council. They have since been lost.

Wellington believes ‘what soldiers at the front chose to collect was indicative of how they perceived themselves in relation to the war’,[9] and ‘to remember their own experiences’.[10] A Private Cowley, who fits Wellington’s category of taking to remember his own experience, openly admitted to bringing back a diary, watch and living photograph (of the dead German soldier he rifled it from) – clearly, looting the dead was acceptable in collecting souvenirs.[11]

The issue of battlefield souvenirs being taken back to Walsall from the front by serving soldiers was an interesting one. It could never be proven as to how much exposure such items received as there was no sustained, organised exhibition, but we do know various items were temporarily exhibited. While no reaction to them was reported, there must have been sufficient interest as in September 1916 a small exhibition was held in a hut during a fete in aid of Hammerwich Hospital that and comprised of: ‘Bombs and bullets, German helmets, bayonets, a section of German machine gun belt, and innumerable other souvenirs’, as well as a Mills bomb.[12] The safety aspect was understood at the time as some soldiers sent back or returned with mementos of their experience,[13] so an article had appeared in the Walsall Pioneer some months before on the dangers of ‘fatal war relics’, advising if you had bullets or anything that could contain explosive or a fuse, to put it in a bucket of water and call the army![14]

Walsall’s first real en masse encounter with modern war technology was a hostile one: the town was attacked during the first in-land Zeppelin raid of the war and saw several high-explosive and incendiary bombs dropped, with several people killed. Constable Burrell stated, many years after the raid, that he heard a ‘peculiar noise’ and then saw a Zeppelin overhead that was ‘dropping bombs all the time’; the fear provoked was shown when he tried to comfort nurses who were ‘frightened and unable to move’ (he extinguished an incendiary that landed on the hospital) by telling them the noise was from a new engine at the gas works.[15] Considering the explosions, fires and the nurses also must have seen the Zeppelin, how this explanation worked is unclear.

Local fear over the Zeppelins returning was shown when a false alarm was sounded a few days after the raid a panic ensued as the upper floors of the workhouse were evacuated, and Elizabeth Street died of a seizure as a result.[16] When the Council were discussing alarm systems after the raid, letters flooded into the local newspapers over the ‘feeling of discontent and apprehension’ that the system was inadequate.[17] Like elsewhere, the fear and ‘universal shock’ Zeppelins provoked in Walsall was far greater than their actual threat;[18] and this fear was driven not by seeking to be a part of the war experience – they now were – but by a lack of assurance that this hostile war ordnance could be dealt with. Strangely, when it was humbled or had left the area, people did visit the damage sites and remains of felled Zeppelins to gathering mementos.

An alleged photograph taken of the Bradford Place bomb crater in Walsall. The background has been removed, if that is the case. There are difficulties, in that the terrain does not match the place where the bomb landed (the slope behind the man to the far right, for example) and looks more like a staged picture. It does show the interest such places received. W05933: Walsall Local History Centre

No captured guns were displayed in Walsall during the war, but not for the want of trying. It is perhaps not surprising, judging by the UC5 for example, that the Mayor was hopeful in obtaining a ‘captured enemy gun for exhibition’ during the Battle of the Somme.[19] Some captured ordnance had been displayed at Horse Guards Parade in late 1915, as successfully as the UC5 would be, but the Mayor’s wish could be less to do with seeking war than, with the high casualties being experienced on the Somme, that a captured gun could offer reassurance that sacrifice was worth it.

A small, curious incident occurred on 7 April 1917, which casts a little background into Walsall’s view of the Royal Flying Corps and military aeroplanes.[20] Thomas Mann was flying from Tern Hill to Castle Bromwich. Mann got into difficulty over Walsall and circled to find a landing place before his engine ‘petered out’ and he plummeted to earth. Louisa Vass, whose daughter and mother were killed in the accident, stated at the inquest that they watched the aeroplane flying, ‘which they had often done before’, so aeroplanes, whilst not common, were a familiar enough sight in Walsall. Indeed, Thomas Deakin, was competent enough to feel he ‘was of the opinion that the pilot was in difficulties’. Deakin also goes on to say that, ‘I saw that nobody interfered with the aeroplane until the arrival of the Police’. Whatever his motivation, he protected the integrity of the crash site for investigation, as well as the aeroplane from curio-hunters.

The opening months of 1917 saw a change in mentality regarding both the state and local approach to recording the war. For the state, 5 March 1917 saw the cabinet decision to form the National War Museum:[21] and while there was definitely an element of combating war-weariness after the Somme campaign, there was a genuine concern for relics and exhibits that ‘were being overlooked and in some cases irretrievably lost’.[22]

The purpose of the museum was to reflect every aspect of the war (including the home-front, dominions, raising, equipping and transportation of armies, munitions, medical and the roles of women). The object would be in future to: ‘revive the past and behold again the great guns and other weapons with which they fought, the uniforms they wore’, and recreate vistas they knew through models and photographs.[23] There was also a strong feeling from the National War Museum Committee that it would become ‘the nation’s official war memorial’.[24]

At the same time, the issue of local war museums was being raised through the newly formed Local War Museums Association (not every Local Authority had a museum, and there were no regimental museums). The relationship between the two was raised in the House of Commons on 4 April 1917;[25] they were to be seen as symbiotic – feeding each other material that was surplus or duplicate. Their remit was slightly wider: as with the national museum it was to collect written records, photographs, maps and plans, as well as ‘war relics’, medals and other such ephemera, and to reflect local war charities, munitions and other war work, however, they were also to take the concept of the war shrine forward and create rolls of honour for local regiments and service personnel.[26]

The idea was taken up by Walsall’s Council; interesting, as the town did not have a general museum and so Walsall may have been swept up in the moment or were keen on the idea as it reflected on the town’s status. The issue was handed down to the Free Library and Art Gallery Committee, who formed a War Museum Committee. There were quibbles over the representation on it, [27] and its initial meetings set out its aims and objectives – chief of which was to find at least a temporary home. Once it secured a home, the museum could take in whatever the committee decided was worthwhile.

Over the next few months the committee wrote to the ‘commanding officers’ for the South Staffordshire Regiment, and sought local representatives from Walsall Trades Council, the Walsall and District Co-operative, Red Cross and the Discharged Soldiers Federation.[28] The fledgling organisation appealed through the local newspapers for items and the roll of honour entries.[29] Problems surfaced, however: in the September it was reported in the newspaper that the Free Library did not have any space to house the collection,[30] as an approach to the Education Committee for the old Education Board room at Bradford Street had been rejected,[31] and the Council’s Property Committee had also rejected an approach to display material in the entrance of the Town Hall.[32] The museum had no home.

The War Museum Committee next officially met on 24 March 1919, at which point the Honorary Secretary resigned citing the lack of public interest, the lack of responses from the army and associations that had been contacted, and the fact that the museum had not even been able to secure even temporary premises.[33] The museum idea was to be wound down. Walsall’s response to its local museum was nationally typical, however, while the secretary pointed to lack of interest we cannot be sure that Walsallians were not contributing ephemera or enthusiastic about the roll of honour that was later forthcoming. By ‘public interest’, the secretary likely means the lack of support from the Local Authority over premises, and from the military and local organisations that simply did not respond. The local museum failure would suggest that by 1919, while temporary exhibition had been accepted, the idea of permanent housing of militaria (and that would include in open, public environments) was rejected – although, as examined later, this is not quite true.

The departing secretary felt local war museums as a whole had failed and incriminated the National War Museum in the apathy that surrounded them.[34] Gaynor Kavanagh, writing in 1988, agreed but defended what became the Imperial War Museum: ‘The IWM was as much a creation and victim of war mood as was the initiative to found local museums… [t]his never got off the ground although its inception and intent in many ways parallel those of the IWM. While the IWM struggled to survive, the local war museums failed completely’.[35] Its survival was down to an organising committee that had ‘ensured a foothold from which the IWM could not be shaken’.[36]

Kavanagh’s belief that the local war museums ‘failed completely’ is not the case though, they morphed into two specific concepts: the first would be the War Memorial Committee, as the concept of the accruing of information to create rolls of honour and permanent, yet reflective reminders, was not lost; second, would be the regimental museum (the Staffordshire Regiment getting theirs in 1934), which would become a more discreet and contextually natural place to house militaria.

The only Borough-wide experience of British war ordnance during the conflict was the tank visit to the town in March 1918. Tank banks were a means of the government raising capital though the sales of war bonds. They started in November 1917, when a tank was displayed in a contrived London setting of captured enemy ordnance and the bond purchase allowed a peek inside. Samuel Slater, Walsall’s mayor, summed-up the attraction: ‘Tanks, from the historic day they made their debut upon the Somme, have captured the popular imagination, and not yet have the interest and curiosity then kindled died away’.[37] In this way, three and a half million pounds was raised and the scheme went national,[38] promoting civic rivalry between places like Manchester and Birmingham.[39]

Rivalry played a part in Walsall’s request for a visit. In December 1917 the local War Savings Committee approached the national organisation, but was turned down as with three tanks available the ‘industrial centres’ were to come first.[40] Efforts renewed when rumours circulated that Wolverhampton was getting a visit and Walsall, who saw it as a status issue, turned this to their advantage: the basis of the local committee’s request was ‘friendly and healthy’ rivalry, but placed pressure on the War Savings Committee by adding that ‘we do not conceal our anxiety that Walsall shall not play second fiddle to Wolverhampton’,[41] and reminding them of the town’s ‘phenomenal War Savings Certificate record’.[42]

On 9 February the newspapers reported that Walsall would get a visit, and a committee formed to canvass schools and businesses through the Chamber of Commerce. The appeals started: Wolverhampton had raised around a million pounds and moral blackmail was considered acceptable with a front page advert in the papers stating ‘It’s up to you to save our reputation’.[43] A barometer was erected on The Bridge to reflect very publically the total raised.[44] The committee also opened its radar to the neighbouring Local Authorities (Wednesbury, Darlaston, Brownhills, Pelsall, Aldridge, Cannock and Cheslyn Hay)[45] to attract more revenue as Walsall had supported Birmingham’s six million pound total in January.

Julian at Aberdeen, prior to his visit to Walsall. The setting was similar (see below) and the crowds are evident in both. Crowds gathered not only on the day of arrival, but other days as Walsall had several speeches from the tank over the week it visited. http://mcjazz.f2s.com/images/Streets/EarlyTankCastlegate.jpg

As the event drew near it was announced that the visit was to be augmented by medal presentations to local soldiers and military bands, presumably to give wider attraction.[46] Walsall’s ‘healthy rivalry’ was perhaps exposed for what it was: while Wolverhampton’s visit had not been reported on in the local papers, Cannock was taken to task that not all its townships seemed responsive to Walsall’s campaign (Walsall pointed out it would not be viable for a tank would visit Cannock, so investing in Walsall was the best option).[47]

The Town Council was confident that it too could raise one million pounds,[48] and invested twenty-thousand itself.[49] A number of other investors were named in newspapers prior to the arrival of the tank including the Royal Antediluvian Order of Buffaloes orphanage in Aldridge and the Red Cross announced it would sell model tank banks.[50]

Mayor Slater, the Mayoress (Slater’s daughter stepped into the role after his wife was died due to injuries received in the Zeppelin raid 31 January 1916) on the left, and Richard Cooper (the parliamentary member for Walsall) and Lady Cooper on the right. All were Liberals and all spoke enthusiastically to raise money – even to the point of distaste. The crowds can be seen, and thronged the route to its resting place for the week. W05870, Walsall Local History Centre

It needs to be remembered that the military situation on the western front had taken a huge downturn before the tank’s visit – the German Spring offensives had broken through allied lines just three days before. The apprehension this produced, still filtering through to the public, may have seen more people on the streets an act of community solidarity – driven by a range of underlying emotions – and for whom, again, the tank may have provided some reassurance that Britain had the best military technology and the current situation may just be a set-back.

Julian arrived at Walsall goods station on Sunday 24 March, and ambled the not too huge a distance to his perch for the next week outside the Council House in front of: ‘deep and serried ranks, [where] very few balconies and upper business floors were not employed as vantage points… as from all parts of the borough and outlying districts people poured into the town in their hundreds’.[51] This was not an exaggeration by the newspaper, photographs do represent this (see illustrations).

A number of speeches were made by local officials and military personnel to promote sales of certificates. Depending on the view of the listener, and the newspaper records that they were met with applause, these speeches ranged from the understandable to the quietly disturbing:[52] the explanation that war was costing six million pounds a day became lost under it being ‘a national crime’ not to give all spare money and that if ‘men won’t give… their wives must persuade them to do so’; the appeal to the bereaved, about the war not being in vein, was taken too far by one speaker who railed that the leisure time of those listening was being paid for with ‘gallant lives’. Elizabeth Fernside, who attended the Fulham tank bank in March 1918, experienced such speeches delivered, like at Walsall, from the top of the tank: ‘several local celebrities spouted from the top of it, but nobody listened.’[53] Maybe such rhetoric was expected, and some – like Fernside – just tuned out.

The Walsall tank bank was both a failure and a success. It failed in that officials hoped it would raise one million pounds and it only raised around £833,000, saying that, it was made public that the target was not reached due to the short preparation time, the loss of Good Friday as a fundraising day and that two-hundred thousand pounds had been given to Birmingham for its tank week in January.[54] Had the Birmingham money gone to Walsall, then Walsall would have trumped the total raised by Wolverhampton.

A second campaign was launched during the middle of October, ‘Big Gun Week’.[55] It is not clear how much was raised, it seemingly being a way of pushing or continuing interest in the sale of war bonds and certificates. ‘Big Gun Week’ had a different military context – it was held when the allies were pushing the Germans back and a few weeks before the Staffordshire Regiments crossed the Hindenburg Line. The relevance this campaign has is, while it was called ‘Big Gun Week’, the Mayor accepted that unlike the tank bank, that no big gun would likely be available for display to promote it.

The conclusion to this section is different. It would have been in the overall conclusion, but as there was no display of ordnance during the Crimean War to compare it against, it sits here. Walsall’s emotional experience of war ephemera during the Great War is blurred, because emotion is blurred. Psychologist Paul Elkman says:[56] ’In the early 19th century, Scottish philosopher Thomas Brown was the first to propose emotion as a theoretical category, opening the door for scientific research. But though he was eager to study it, Brown couldn’t define it… “The exact meaning of the term emotion, it is difficult to state in any form of words,” Brown said in a lecture. And so it has remained.’[57]

William James, the first psychologist to investigate war through his The Moral Equivalent of War written in 1910, suggested warfare had positive psychological effects for the individual and society: it brings a sense of unity, in the face of a collective threat, and a sense of cohesion, with communal goals, inspires individual citizens (not just soldiers) to act in the greater good. Warfare also enables the expression of higher human qualities which often lie dormant in ordinary life, such as discipline, courage, unselfishness and self-sacrifice.[58] James still rings true, the social euphoria created by a successful outcome to the Falklands conflict in 1982 kept Margaret Thatcher in power.

While we may not be able to define what an emotional experience actually is, three strong trends have been identified within Walsall during the Great War with regard to ephemera and ordnance display. The first, pure William James, is patriotism (pride and sense of duty): while members of the public felt this (hence the sales of war certificates) this is most detectable in the governing Council of the town. The pursuit of both the local war museum and the tank bank were down to individuals or a small elite that cannot be accused of acting in their own interests, but altruistically in that they believed they were representing Walsall and Britain. Samuel Slater, Mayor of Walsall, led the campaign for the tank bank and was the magistrate that called Jack Davill a disgrace, yet it would be unfair to assume he acted without compassion: Slater lost his wife as a result of the Zeppelin raid and personally saw to the Council funding the burial of Louisa Vass’ family after the aeroplane crash in 1917.

The second is Wellington’s belief in the need for non-combatants to experience war. This was demonstrated by Lazenby’s ‘curiosity’ and, it is reasonable to assume, by some of those that visited the tank (as believed by Samuel Slater), the Hammerwich exhibition (as reported by the newspaper) and even some of those that went to view the fallen aeroplane in Ryecroft and the Zeppelin bomb damage sites. The problem with Wellington’s belief, as a dominant trend, is that Walsall had directly experienced war, however fleetingly, and, arguably, seeking the war experience is a part of James’ pulling together and sense of duty.

This brings the third trend, which draws from James to some degree and from personal experience of a sub-community in a high-stress situation.[59] This trend is a need, and one of varying degrees depending on the person, for reassurance. It is not necessarily that an individual continually needed to be told by the government that victory was within grasp but at times to feel a togetherness with other people, and to feel that, through tanks and aeroplanes, that the Zeppelin could be tamed and the German trenches broken. It is similar to how the families of cancer patients seek not to experience the illness, they know they cannot, but through viewing modern medical equipment, understanding what treatments are actually doing and being with like-minded, positive people offers some reassurance that they are not facing things alone and the illness (the enemy) can be beaten.

[1] Jennifer Wellington is Lecturer in Modern History, University College, Dublin, and she wrote Exhibiting War in 2017 – which was is published by Cambridge University as a part of its Studies in the Social and Cultural History of Modern Warfare series (the general editor of which is Jay Winter, whose work on the cultural memory of war will be examined in the conclusion).

[2] Wellington, J. 2017. p154

[3] Wellington, J. 2017. pp 26-27.

[4] British Pathe newsreel, available on Youtube. https://uk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=mcafee&p=german+submarine+british+captured+first+world+war#action=view&id=17&vid=081146e7fd261e44c93c5d567474bb06

[5] These battlefields had seen the abandonment of the Schlieffen plan, the German attempt to encircle Paris. Shore and Lazenby’s accounts are in the Walsall Observer. 7 November 1914. The Wake of the Huns. p4.

[6] Lazenby recounts the story of a German cutting the hand off the nurse that was attending to his wounds.

[7] A Taube is a type of aeroplane.

[8] 360/15 Free Library and Art Gallery Committee minutes. 907: 13 January 1915. ‘The committee accept the offer of John W. Lazenby of the souvenirs collected by him from the Marne battlefields’.

[9] Wellington, J. 2017. p19

[10] Ibid. p22.

[11] Walsall Observer. 26 Dec 1914. Men Who Have Suffered Wounds. p6.

[12] A Mills bomb was a famous British grenade.

[13] Miss Utting, a teacher at Cheslyn Hay School, received a cap off a German shell, weighing over three pounds, from Private Jack Hampton. See: Walsall Observer. 3 July 1915. A Gift from the Front. p8.

[14] Walsall Pioneer. 12 February 1916. Fatal War Relics. p8.

[15] QP940.3: Police Review and Parade Gossip. 29 March 1929. Extract.

[16] Acc205: Elizabeth Street. 8 February 1916. Coroner’s Inquest

[17] Walsall Pioneer. 16 February 1916. Correspondents.

[18] See: Point six, https://www.iwm.org.uk/learning/resources/what-impact-did-the-first-world-war-have-on-aircraft-and-aerial-warfare

[19] Acc 352/114 Walsall Council: General Purposes Committee. 31 July 1916.

[20] The following is extracted from the witness statements at a Coroner’s inquest into a fatal crash in Walsall, which killed two people. Acc205 Edna May Vass and Frances North, 10 April 1917. Also see: https://wyrleyblog.wordpress.com/walsall/tales-from-the-walsall-coroner/run-the-ryecroft-plane-crash-1917/

[21] It would later be named the Imperial War Museum. see: Kavanagh, G. 1988. Museum as Memorial: The Origins of the Imperial War Museum. Journal of Contemporary History. Vol 23, No. 1, pp. 77-97. Sage: London. p78

[22] Ibid. p80.

[23] Ibid. p83.

[24] Ibid. pp86-87.

[25] https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/commons/1917/apr/04/local-war-museums

[26] Walsall Observer. 26 May 1917. Proposed Local War Museum. p4

[27] Nobody from the Red Cross or the Discharged Soldiers Federation according to one Councillor. See: Acc393/55 Walsall War Museum Committee Minute Book. 2 August 1917.

[28] This seems to be short-hand for the several societies that operated such charities, it is likely the National Federation of Discharged and Disabled Soldiers and Sailors – it became a part of the British Legion in 1921.

[29] Acc393/55 Walsall War Museum Committee Minute Book. 12 Oct 1917.

[30] Walsall Observer. 15 September 1917. Proposed War Museum. p4

[31] Walsall Observer. 29 September 1917. The War Museum. p4

[32] Acc393/55 Walsall War Museum Committee Minute Book. 12 Oct 1917.

[33] Ibid. 24 March 1919.

[34] Ibid.

[35] Kavanagh, G. 1988. p95.

[36] ibid

[37] Walsall Observer. 5 January 1918. A Tank Bank for Walsall. p4

[38] Wellington, J. 2017. pp 151-160.

[39] The Times. 5 January 1918. Tank Bank Rivalry. p3.

[40] Walsall Observer. 5 January 1918. A Tank Bank for Walsall. p4

[41] Ibid.

[42] Walsall Observer. 2 February 1918. Is Walsall to be Slighted? p4

[43] Walsall Observer. 9 February 1918. Public Notices. p1

[44] Walsall Observer. 2 .March 1918. Tank Bank items. p2

[45] Walsall Observer. 16 February 1918. Getting Ready for Tank Week. p4

[46] Walsall Observer. 9 March 1918. Tank Bank Week. p2

[47] Walsall Observer. 9 March 1918. District Notes (By ‘Offlow’). p5

[48] Walsall Observer. 16 March 1918. Prepare for Tank Bank Week. p2

[49] Walsall Observer. 16 March 1918. Tank Bank Week Aims. p3

[50] Walsall Observer. 23 March 1918. Helping to Win. p3

[51] Walsall Observer. 30 March 1918. The Coming of Julian. p3

[52] Walsall Observer. 30 March 1918. Speeches from the Tank. p3

[53] Wellington, J. 2017. p155

[54] Walsall Observer. 13 April 1918. Answers to Correspondence. p2

[55] Walsall Observer. 19 October 1918. Big Gun Week for Walsall. p5

[56] professor emeritus at the University of California

[57] See: Beck, J. https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/02/hard-feelings-sciences-struggle-to-define-emotions/385711/

[58] Steve Taylor, senior lecturer in psychology at Leeds Beckett University, extracted from his article: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/out-the-darkness/201403/the-psychology-war

[59] See: https://wyrleyblog.wordpress.com/about/brothers-in-arms-personal-musings-for-world-cancer-day/