Was the interwar British Legion, an organization of ex-servicemen, “an insignificant element in British life, with little influence and no power whatsoever”? (1). Was it really an organi zation of elderly ex-servicemen who gathered occasionally to display their medals and drink beer? Niall Barr agrees that, in comparison with ex-servicemen from Germany and Italy, British veterans were rarely proactive. However, he also contends that there was something unique about the British Legion, not least its use of the inclusive phrase “ex-servicemen,” and that the social, political, and cultural significance of the British Legion needs to be examined. While never enlisting more than 10 percent of ex-servicemen, the Legion fostered more than just comradeship. It assisted unemployed and disabled ex-servicemen, raised funds, lobbied government to improve pensions, and in the later 1930s attempted to influence British foreign policy. Thus, Barr contends that an examination of the leadership, membership, and policies of the British Legion uncovers a neglected and significant aspect of interwar British history. The British Legion has been previously studied, most notably by its official historian Graham Wooton and historians Brian Harding and Charles Kimball. However, Barr argues that a variety of new sources make his study seminal. This includes the massive correspondence of General Ian Hamilton, president of the Legion from 1921 to 1935, Foreign Office files, prime ministerial papers, and documents from the Ministry of Pensions. Such research leads to new conclusions about the impact of the Legion, its governmental lobbying efforts, and the internal policies and personalities of the leadership.

It is somewhat ironic that the first ex-servicemen's organizations, established between 1917 and 1920, were regarded by the government as breeding grounds for radicals. Nonetheless, the need for amalgamation, based on a common platform of comradeship and the necessity to assist ex-servicemen, led to the establishment of the British Legion on 1 July 1921. It was from the outset dedicated to being democratic, nonsectarian, free from attachment to any political party, and accepting of the British government, the establishment, and society. While amalgamation increased the number of branches, from 1,500 in 1922 to 5,000 in 1939, it did not do away with factionalism and rivalry. The Officer's Benevolent Department and the Women's Section, nominally amalgamated, continued to provide tension. The former promoted class and rank distinctions, while the latter highlighted gender divisions. The commitment to a democratic structure was overridden by the heavy-handedness of the Legion's National Executive Council. Nonetheless, Barr suggests that the Legion formed “a broad church that could encompass the activities and interests of all ex-servicemen” and that the “consensus and framework” established in 1921 stood up well (52).

On issues of “comradeship, creed and class” (57), Barr examines the reasons why the British Legion never became a mass membership movement of ex-servicemen as in France or Germany. A preponderance of ex-officer leaders in the Legion, with their antisocialist views, roused the suspicions of potential working-class members. This divide between officer-class leaders and working-class membership seriously hindered progress in the Legion's “practical work, political influence and foreign policy” (87). The depression and massive unemployment of the 1930s continued to stymie mass enrolment. In the larger scheme of things, the Legion was associated in the interwar period with the symbolic poppy of Flanders, which first went on sale in November 1921, and the annual Armistice Day commemoration. Funds from the sale of poppies, the single largest source of income, were used for the Legion's benevolent work. This included assistance to disabled and unskilled ex-servicemen, the provision of small business loans, and employment and training schemes. However, the Legion's ambitious aims “to build a brighter Britain” (113) through traditional notions of charitable work were never fulfilled. Similar shortcomings were also evident in the political arena, where the Legion vigorously lobbied the government officials and the Ministry of Pensions on such key issues as war disability compensation and pensions for ex-servicemen. As many as one-quarter of those who served in the war had some entitlement to disability pensions. Entitlement was a matter of contention, as were government concerns about the vast expenditures involved and suspicions of Legion pressure. Not surprisingly, the Legion condemned the Treasury of placing “parsimony before humanity” (124). In Barr's view, the leadership failed because of its “political naiveté and an inability to negotiate effectively” (146).

The most controversial aspect of Legion interwar history was the attempt after 1935 to foster relations with German ex-servicemen: “a mistaken policy that did not have a realistic chance of success” (152). The Legion was attracted by such similarities with German ex-servicemen organizations as a declared commitment toward mutual understanding and peace. In July 1935, a Legion delegation visited Germany and garnered a lot of publicity, followed by several further initiatives. However, none was more dramatic than the visit in August 1938 by a group of legionnaires to Germany during the unfolding of the German-Czech crisis. The legionnaires were warmly welcomed and feted with a twenty-one gun salute, but the visit turned into a propaganda coup for the Nazi regime. Soon afterward, in late September, the idea of a British Legion Volunteer Force was developed. This would have seen 10,000 British legionnaires dispatched to oversee the redrawing of the German-Czechoslovakian border. Without adequate training or relevant experience, and under the impact a fast-changing diplomatic scenario, the plan was dropped. The volunteers dispersed, and the Legion retreated from any further attempts to influence British foreign policy based on a notion of the “Brotherhood of the Trenches” (186).

Barr's conclusion on the history of the British Legion in the interwar years is that modest achievements, most notably the ritual of Poppy Day, mitigated the many failures. Certainly, the massive documentation, statistical tables, and informative appendices relate a much fuller and clearer picture than previous studies. However, the British Legion in the interwar years is a suitable case study in the dynamics of voluntary or charitable organizations. If the Victorian or Edwardian model was outdated, and this appeared to be so, what would be a successful twentieth-century structure? What quality of leadership is required for organizational success? What tactics and strategies are needed for both effective lobbying and proactive recruitment? What are the dynamics of fund-raising and its legitimate dispersal? In other words, what are the lessons for success that can be drawn, as well as the pitfalls to be avoided? It is only in this more theoretical approach that The Lion and the Poppy falls short.