The excavations at Pheasant Wood, Fromelles, France, were intended to recover Allied soldiers killed in the 1916 Battle of Fromelles, notably significant numbers of missing Australians. The Germans buried many of the fallen, but it remained moot whether the bodies had been recovered in the post-war recovery of casualties and reburials by the Imperial War Graves Commission. Indeed, the numbers of Unknown Soldiers reinterred in the military cemeteries is so large that it was possible that this had taken place. Nevertheless, lobbying in Australia presented strong evidence and a change in political will led to the 2009 excavations. The excavations are described by Oxford Archaeology as ‘the largest operation of recovery and identification of First World War soldiers since the 1920s’ in which some 144 of 250 soldiers had been identified by Spring 2014.
The publication of this archaeological report is thanks to Oxford Archaeology’s determination to tell the story of the project and its outcomes in a scientific format that not only presents a compelling and poignant narrative, but which also achieves that within strict guidelines on dealing with recent military remains established by the British and Australian authorities, and which also presents a story of forensic, conflict archaeology. The report includes a clear and concise project overview that blends the scientific and the human stories. The report leads the reader’s gaze from the historical background and methodology to the excavation trenches and labs, and, ultimately, to the individuals and their associated possessions. Unlike a normal cemetery report, there are no culturally conditioned grave goods; rather, they are uniform traces, false teeth, rosaries and the misplaced optimism of the return rail ticket, each of which afford glimpses of the individual wearing the uniform and cast into a global conflict. The context of the site is also usefully considered, including the relationship to the battlefield. One empty grave is also considered, as it presents a question of origin: had the Germans over-estimated the number of casualties or were others buried elsewhere – certainly the graves comprised almost entirely Australian remains, despite the equally high number of British casualties during the action.
In common with Blood Red Roses (Fiorato et al Reference Fiorato, Boylston and Knusel2007), this volume achieves the commendable feat of taking the forensic excavation of battle casualties and restores their humanity and, in some cases at Fromelles, their names. This difference highlights not only the potential of modern burials for identification, aside from such high-status burials as Richard iii, but also the proximity of these events, meaning that grandchildren may well still survive. This report demonstrates the scientific rigour required to achieve such spectacular results, but also the compassion necessary in dealing with human remains, and while DNA is much beloved of forensic fiction, the amassing of other data, including metric traits, dental records and pathology, helps to narrow down the focus before the DNA of potential family members is tested. Nevertheless, this temporal proximity means that the preservation of DNA is good and the search may be less taxing than for those related to the king in the car park. Interestingly, the human story and the individuals are downplayed, which is to be commended: this volume is about the search and the process for all the men recovered and not just the named. In death these men were equal and in reporting they receive the same even-handed treatment, leaving others to tell the personal tales.
In this centenary of the Great War, it is well to see the potential that archaeology offers to investigate the conflict, but also how much it can still tell us about people, no matter how recent the events under investigation. It also sets the standard for future study of remains in a region where the fallen of the Great War are still regularly found whether during agricultural, construction or archaeological activity.
