Towards the Goal — Reading Companion

A Witness in Motion

The book's structure follows Ward's physical journey. She begins with the British line, then announces a turn toward France, moving from the 'pleasant land of France' to the ruined villages of Lorraine. This movement is not merely geographical; it mirrors a shift in purpose. The opening letters emphasize the British effort—the 'huge development' of military machinery, the precision of artillery guided by aeroplanes. Later, the focus narrows to specific sites of destruction, such as Senlis and the battlefields of the Ourcq. Ward presents herself as a 'woman-witness' whose impressions are deliberately 'crowding,' suggesting an accumulation of scenes rather than a systematic analysis.

Recurring Images of the Air

Aeroplanes appear repeatedly as symbols of protection and technological progress. Ward quotes a Flight-Commander's prediction that 'when the great move begins we shall get the mastery again, as we did on the Somme.' She notes that 'flying forms in the upper air become for the soldier below so many symbols of help and protection,' and that soldiers are 'restless when they are not there.' The text also provides a historical marker: aeroplanes were first used for artillery observation 'not three years ago, in the battle of Aisne.' These details tie the air war to the ground war, emphasizing coordination over individual heroism.

The Rhetoric of Reparation

Ward explicitly states her second object: to make readers 'realise—as acutely and poignantly as I could—what it is we are really fighting for.' She lists German 'sufferings, outrages, and devastations' inflicted on France, and insists that Germany 'must be made to suffer and pay.' The phrase 'Reparation—Restitution—Guarantees' is repeated as a refrain. However, the excerpts show that her planned visits to Soissons, Reims, and Verdun were cancelled due to active operations; she instead visited Nancy and Lorraine. This gap between intention and execution is acknowledged, limiting the scope of her firsthand evidence to the eastern frontier rather than the most famous battlefields.

A Dual Dedication and Framing

The book is dedicated to André Chevillon, described as 'True Son of France, True Friend of England,' which underscores the Anglo-French alliance at its core. Roosevelt's introduction frames the war as a struggle between 'free peoples' and 'tyrannous militarism,' and draws explicit parallels to American failings—'folly and selfishness and greed and soft slackness.' He praises England's 'awakening of the national soul.' This framing positions Ward's account as both a report and a moral lesson, intended to stir readers in Britain and America. The dedication and introduction together establish the book's dual audience and its propagandistic purpose.

Readers should approach Towards the Goal as a document shaped by its moment—early 1917, before American entry into the war, when the outcome was uncertain. Ward's letters are neither neutral nor comprehensive; they are deliberately persuasive, blending eyewitness detail with political argument. The book's value lies in its specific observations of technology, morale, and landscape, rather than in strategic analysis. Pay attention to the dates and locations she names, as they mark the limits of her direct experience.

I keep thinking about those letters from the Front—how the mud and the quiet determination stayed with her long after the guns fell still. There’s a weight to witnessing, a sort of ache that lingers. That same feeling came back when I found History of the World War, Volume 4 (of 7) — Edition Insights, its slow telling of what war does to a landscape and a people. It felt like remembering something I never saw.