Reconstructing Immersion in War and Trauma

Henri Barbusse’s Under Fire and Ernst Jünger’s Storm of Steel immerse their readers in their memories and experiences of trench warfare during World War I. Both authors write about the same war from opposite perspectives, Barbusse from the French (i.e. the Allied Powers), and Jünger from the German (i.e. the Central Powers). Despite being on opposite sides of the conflict, both authors reflect on the shared difficulty and trauma that war created in a group of people unsure of its cause and purpose. This paper argues that while Jünger focuses more on the significance of auditory experiences, and Barbusse on the fantastical sensory experiences, both authors maintain a trope of animalising both the living and non-living entities of war, and reflect on the romanticised and idealised version of war they expected versus the reality of the traumatic and gruesome results they witnessed. 

Jünger and Barbusse give life to the machinery, tools, and environment involved in warfare to create an atmosphere of constant enmity. Animalistic sounds are used to describe the movement of weaponry such as the snake-like “hissing of individual bullets,” the “whine” of a stray bullet, drones that are “mosquito-like” and iron lumps that “buzzed” (Jünger 281, 9, 274, 278). By attaching sounds that animals and insects make, Jünger is creating the impression that these non-living but life-threatening entities take lives of their own when in motion. In other words, once leaving the confines of its origin, the piece of weaponry moves and creates sounds that are like living creatures. This is emphasised further when he writes that he felt “the bullet taking away” his life, making the bullet the agent that has the power to take a life, more so than the person firing it (281). Barbusse also gives agency to the environment he is in by saying that the “mud grabbed us by the feet” and that the trees were like “phantoms” that were shaped “as if kneeling” (Barbusse 189). Non-living objects that otherwise have no power individually, when in combination with other machinery or nature, they gain a life of their own that join together to create an air of hostility. 

Jünger emphasises the impact auditory experiences have on the memories of war experiences. He foreshadows a sense of doom when he describes a “slow grinding pulse” that is “a rhythm we were to become mightily familiar with” (Jünger 5). His description of the front here is musical and creates the atmosphere of a winter storm. It acts as the background soundtrack to the action about to take place in the following pages. Along with the animalistic sounds of the weaponry and environment, he describes that it was sound that had the most impact. He had “numerous auditory hallucinations so that I would mistake the trundling of a passing car, say, for the ominous whirring of the deadly shell” (7). Here, Jünger is depicting how sound can be the carrier of trauma in war memories that can confuse and manipulate his experiences. This confession also suggests that other auditory experiences throughout the book could be instances of such hallucinations or confusion where sounds are mismatched in his memories, revealing the enduring effects of war and trauma and how it can deceive not just the soldier, but the audience of his story-telling as well. 

Barbusse supports the significance of auditory and sensory experience by describing events in vivid fantastical elements. He says that explosions “take on the shapes of fabulous dragons” and the rattles of machinery creates noises that “grips the heart,” and how “bellows, roars, strange fierce rumblings caterwauling that tear through your ears and turn your stomach” (Barbusse 192, 193, 195). These descriptions of vision and sound are much more poetic and supernatural than Jünger’s, creating a sense of sublime. On the one hand, the reader and subject are in awe of the enormity of the explosions and their loudness like they are mythical elements, on the other hand, the animalism and life-threatening capability instill a sense of fear and terror. Furthermore, sound can be used as a tool to gauge what is taking place during the war. As mentioned in an exchange between two soldiers when a shell failed to go off, they remark as though the shell said “dammit!” and they have the satisfaction of “not hearing” certain things (199). Not only does this exchange support the personification of weaponry, but it shows how the absence of sound can also have as profound an impact on warfare as its presence can.

Barbusse describes how the scale of soldiers involved in the war resulted in their dehumanisation. When entering the first-aid post, in particular, he describes how men were “tossed around, squeezed, stifled and blinded, climbing over one another like cattle” and patients calling for attention like “barking dogs” (255, 257). The most direct depiction of dehumanisation is when he describes a medical orderly yelling at a patient “you pig, you vermin” (263). These descriptions of equating humans that are supposedly heroes to farm animals reveal the similarity in how herders train and move their animals to how army companies move and act. Masses of “creatures” doing the same tasks repeatedly and tiresomely to achieve their purpose, be it winning a war or agriculture. This dehumanisation, however, allowed for the trauma, negligence and apathy soldiers both received and embodied because they were stripped of their individuality and broken down to simply a combination of capable and united limbs.

Jünger writes how at first, young men like himself had an idealised version of war that was sold to them under the guise of heroism. Barbusse describes how both sides of the war believed themselves to be righteous and had the help of God. Both eventually reveal that war was not at all the romanticised vision they thought, it was not for a cause or to fight an unseen enemy, it was simply repeated work, boredom, and death. These seemingly simple elements worked together to overwhelm the memories of those enduring it, manipulating their sensory perception, and creating trauma that transcends their consciousness and life.     

Disclaimer: This work is original and the property of Aroni Sarkar. It is not authorised for any use, copies or dissemination.

Works Cited 

Barbusse, Henri. “Bombardment.” Under Fire. Translated by Robin Buss, Penguin, 2003, pp 189-203.

Barbusse, Henri. “The First Aid Post.” Under Fire. Translated by Robin Buss, Penguin, 2003, pp 254-270. 

Jünger, Ernst. “In the Chalk Trenches of Champagne.” Storm of Steel. Translated by Michael Hofmann, Penguin, 2003, pp 5-15. 

Jünger, Ernst. “My Last Assault.” Storm of Steel. Translated by Michael Hofmann, Penguin, 2003, pp 274-282.