the bushy-topped tree'
A Brief Survey of Military Sketching
A version of this paper first appeared in the annual review of the Imperial War Museum, London, Nov. 1995, ISBN 1-870432-19-4
This paper looks at an aspect of war art that has rarely been examined : reconnaissance and panorama sketches made by soldiers specially trained in freehand observational drawing. For over 200 years the discipline of field sketching has been an important element in fieldcraft, attracting professional artists (who were forced to learn a range of new technical skills) while giving artistically talented soldiers the opportunity to practice their hands in unusually demanding circumstances. Many of the principles of field sketching were published in training manuals and taught in the lecture hall and in the field. Even after the introduction of aerial photography, freehand sketching was considered a crucial part of field intelligence and, even more surprising, line drawing is still used today as an element in observation and target indication. This article draws upon panoramas, sketches and instruction manuals held in the Departments of Art, Photography and Printed Books; it also draws upon six weeks' work with the Royal Artillery and Royal Navy during the making of a television documentary which traced this untold story of war art.
report on a landscape: the central sector, The right of arc and that, which we had last Tuesday, And at least you know that maps are of time, not place, so far
as the army Happens to be concerned - the reason being, Is one which need not delay us. Again, you know There are three kinds of tree, three only, the fir and
the poplar, And those which have bushy tops to; and lastly That things only seem to be things.'
(Part II. Judging Distances, from Lessons of the War by Henry Reed)
Possibly the most eminent artist associated with Woolwich was the watercolourist Paul Sandby who served as Drawing Master from 1768 until 1796. Sandby was then at the height of his fame and his appointment at Woolwich reflects the importance of drawing in the training of the artillery and engineer cadets. Under his guidance the quality of drawing was consistently high and a number of his pupils went on to prove themselves as expert draughtsmen, often making crucially important reconnaissance drawings and finely illustrated reports.(2)
During the Napoleonic Wars it was recognised that a skill in drawing could be of immense benefit in unmapped and unknown terrain. With the establishment of new Staff and junior military colleges in 1801 drawing became firmly established as an essential element in the training of infantry and cavalry officers. At the height of the war period the country was scoured for capable landscape draughtsmen to employ as drawing tutors. John Constable was interviewed in 1802 for the post of Drawing Master at the Junior Department in Marlow, but later rejected the offer arguing, that had he accepted 'it would have been a death blow to all my prospects of perfection in the Art I love'. (3)
On mainland Europe the trained officers were soon at work in the battlefield, reconnoitring unfamiliar ground, making detailed sketches of its topographical features and reporting back to superior officers. The value of an accurate drawing, however hastily made, was far superior to a verbal or written description and this highly trained team of officer-draughtsmen played a significant part in Wellington's peninsular campaign.
Constable's relief at turning down the military appointment is an important reminder of the disdain that many artists felt for topographic art. Whether for artillery or infantry use, military drawing puts a premium on producing an accurate report shorn of artistic and aesthetic trappings. To many landscape artists this 'tame delineation' of a view was regarded with scorn. The painter Thomas Gainsborough wrote of the opprobrium cast upon artists who regarded themselves as topographers, rather than interpreters of the landscape. Naturally, the military mind require a factual, accurate drawing, however clumsy, rather than an idealised landscape picture.
Drawing for military purposes can be separated into two distinct fields that roughly correspond to the different arms of the military : on the one hand are those drawings made during mobile reconnaissance - usually by light cavalry or units of advanced infantry - and used to record intelligence about enemy positions and key terrain; on the other hand are drawings known as panoramas which have been made from a static position, usually an elevated vantage point that commands an uninterrupted view of the enemy front. These are normally drawn by specially trained artillery or engineer officers and are vital for indicating targets and determining range and arc of fire. The different skills required for each type of drawing can be traced in the many official and commercial manuals that were published in the nineteenth century. During this period proficiency in drawing was widely acknowledged as offering an advantage to boys competing for places at the military academies. Yet the varying qualities in the teaching of drawing across the 'public' and middle-class schools constantly undermined the calibre of cadet applications to the military colleges. Both the Clarendon Commission of 1864 and the Taunton Commission four years later remarked on the erratic quality of art teaching in schools.(4)
The unimaginative style of most military manuals of the late nineteenth century reflect the low status of drawing in the army's thinking. Invariably, freehand sketching was relegated to an item of 'special interest' and regarded as little more than an adjunct to map work. Manual writers leaned heavily on the conventional language and symbols of military cartography, transforming a lesson in landscape drawing into little more than a matter of contours and geometric symbols.
Two manuals in 'Rapid Field Sketching and Reconnaissance' of 1889 and 1903, for example, laid heavy emphasis on map and compass work, with only a cursory description of the merits of freehand drawing. Commercial manuals such as Major R.F.Legge's Military Sketching and Map Reading (1906) ignored observational work completely, concentrating instead on mapwork, measurement of slopes, magnetic bearings and using the service compass.(5) One of the first manuals to actively encourage freehand drawing is The Active Service Pocket Book written by 2nd Lt.Bertrand Stewart and published in1907.(6) In it Stewart dedicated eight pages to freehand sketching, offering step-by-step advice on drawing in outline, using the pencil as a measuring instrument and mastering the vexing problem of perspective. The manual is clearly aimed at the complete novice. Stewart, for instance, recommends the construction of an oblong drawing frame attached to a stick with a pointed end. The frame is to be divided at regular six inch intervals by stretched wire, thus forming a drawing grid which will help simplify any landscape seen through it. Drawing on gridded paper the soldier can make an exact outline copy of the view through the frame, though any problem over siting the frame, piercing hard ground and avoiding enemy detection are skipped over by the author.(7)
The hurried re-issue of a number of drawing manuals at the outbreak of war in 1914 was followed, over the next four years, with a flurry of training manuals - at least nine commercial and War Office books on topographical and panoramic sketching were available to soldiers of all ranks. Significantly, tuition in freehand drawing and map- reading had spread from being the preserve of the officer in the Regular Army to a craft capable of being learned by all. The Great War accelerated this development. Not only was the army able to draw upon an educated and intelligent workforce but the static nature of the fighting on the Western Front called for highly accurate intelligence on enemy dispositions. Observational drawing became an integral element in surveillance work.
Artistically talented soldiers of all rank soon found themselves sought out to work in the Camouflage Corps or for the Field Survey. Not all went willingly. Harry Bateman, having volunteered for service with the Royal Field Artillery, ignored a sergeant's request at their first parade for any artist present to make himself known. Bateman 'remained silent as he wanted to go and fight.' (8) Others found that their skills were deemed inappropriate: the painter and poet David Jones, serving with the 15th (London Welsh) Battalion, Royal Welch Fusiliers, had five years art school training to his credit when he was recommended to the 2nd Field Survey Company based at Second Army Headquarters at Cassel. But Jones appears to have lacked the requisite technical skills needed for map drawing and was instead sent to one of the Company's four observation groups as a Survey Post observer. Of no use in 'Maps' Jones did not last long as an observer - 'Got the sack from that job because of my inefficiency in getting the right degrees of enemy gunflashes'. (9) Others advertised their skills quite freely. Young artists Paul Maze and Adrian Hill were soon exercising their artistic talents in exposed forward positions. Maze worked for fifth Army intelligence, Hill combined his drawing abilities with his work in a Scouting and Sniping Section of the Honorable Artillery Company. After the war, he recalled a typical patrol into No Man's Land:
definite shape, and as I crept nearer I saw that what was hidden from our own line, now revealed itself as a cunningly contrived observation post in one of the battered
From an art historical point of view the two types of military drawing have quite different origins. The great era of panoramic art was seventeenth century Holland. Masterly landscape painters such as Hobbema and de Koninck produced views of vast, seemingly endless plains in which the wide lateral extension and the raised vantage point reward the viewer with an unchallenged view of the entire landscape. Topographical painting, as we have seen, has a much less celebrated provenance being considered inferior to the idealised or poetic landscape. Topographical art was expected to supply information accurately and graphically without embellishment or unnecessary artistic effect. The true topographical artist was likened by one historian to an explorer who makes a visual account of his discoveries (11) - an apt description of such soldier- artists as Paul Maze and Leon Underwood who had to crawl out into No Man's Land to make many of their military drawings.
Like the Dutch painters, soldiers who drew panoramas for military use seem to be fascinated by the vast space open before them. The artillery panorama is designed to satisfy the gunner's thirst for information about the distance. Unlike drawings of the ruined terrain immediately in front of the trench lines, panoramas caught in a single sweep the prospect of 'the Promised Land' - that distant, unspoilt territory beyond the shambles of the battle zone. As the poet Henry Reed observed, these were as much landscapes about time as they were about space. In contrast, drawings made from the parapet or periscope are concerned with the minutiae of the landscape. The aim of the trench sketch was to analyse and itemise the key elements of No Man's Land so that trench raids and patrols could be planned within a highly controlled framework.
From a strictly operational point of view the artillery panorama differed from a front-line or reconnaissance drawing in three respects. The artillery drawing reported a single view from a particular Observation Post; it need only show a few prominent reference points drawn in a clear and unambiguous manner so as to indicate targets for observed fire; and it was drawn to maintain a record of artillery data on a particular battery front. The artillery panorama works on the same assumption as military mapping - to survey and transcribe a landscape will help neutralise the dangers of that terrain and eventually assure mastery over it. The discipline of panoramic drawing would reduce any landscape, however picturesque, into a series of immutable co-ordinates and fixed datum points.
Drawings made from reconnaissance patrols or from the lip of a trench are often less formalised than the artillery panorama. the descriptive language is less codified, they may combine a number of viewpoints and usually serve as visual elaboration for a longer written report .
One of the most remarkable examples of a front-line military draughtsman was the young painter Paul Maze. A French speaking, self-confessed adventurer, Maze worked first as an interpreter to the Royal Scots Greys in 1914, and later as a liaison officer for General Sir Hubert Gough, Fifth Army commander. He would regularly send Maze on sketching sorties to the front line where the young painter would fearlessly record his impressions of the battlefield. One of his first missions, in May 1915 was to sketch the 7th Division's objectives around Festubert, a task which required him to draw from the front line where he 'had to use a periscope and crane (his) neck over the sandbags quickly and peep'. Maze rarely departed from this hazardous technique. In March 1916, ignoring all regard for his own safety, he drew in the line every day:
hinder our advance'.(12) What then were the results of this extraordinary committment? William Rothenstein, an official war artist working south of the Somme in March
1918, recalled seeing at Fifth Army headquarters 'a long photograph, made from drawings pieced together, showing a considerable view of the German front', made by
Maze 'creeping, day after day, beyond our front lines ... an act of rare courage and devotion'.(13)
Whereas Maze learned to adapt his drawing style for military purposes, other artists struggled to make the transition. William Roberts, the young Vorticist painter who was serving with the Royal Artillery in France, was told to accompany an officer to an observation post (OP) and draw the terrain beyond.
but what use my superiors would be able to make of this sketch I could not imagine.(19)
The test of each solution is whether a stranger can with ease and rapidity identify the exact place intended; and tested in this manner the results of his teaching have been most successful and many officers in the trenches have benefitted by the care and devotion he has given to his work.(21) In his opening definition Newton clarified the function of a military sketch. It 'is a form of report, without the ambiguity of language. It is graphic information. For information clearness is essential, and clearness is attained by two avenues: a) thought, b) draughtsmanship'. (22) In making this point, Newton noticeably distances himself from previous manual writers who invariably opted for heavily annotated sketches and for a pictorial language rooted in the conventions of maps. The real problem, continues Newton, is how to simplify the visual chaos of a landscape, especially a landscape damaged by battle.
framing in, division of a whole into parts.(23)
Newton's manual teems with such pragmatic advice. He emphasises the draughtsman's duty in guiding the eye to salient points in the landscape by using key devices in the terrain - an isolated chimney, a single red roof amongst black roofs, three silhouetted bushes on a crest line - as so many labels that indicate particular targets or tactically vital features. He avoids the tendency of other instructors to construct complex drawing frames, or string and protractor gizmos (24). Instead, he argues for clarity of purpose at all times, for always using a sharp pencil and throwing the india rubber away - 'the aim should rather be to do a clear sketch from the first, because in the field opportunities of subsequent polish are limited'. He continues in fine style:
wavering mind. Every line should be put in to express something. Start sharply and finish sharply. Press on the paper.(25)
method does not detract from their interest. (27)
in the picture, which at least saved any strain on the School of Musketry's vocabulary or inventiveness.(28)
To certain military artists, though, the call of landscape art would always overwhelm purely tactical considerations. Perhaps the least exacting type of military sketch is the conventional landscape painting which has been ruled off with vertical pencil lines to mark out the degrees of artillery fire. Wilfred de Glehn chose this method. A professional artist, de Glehn served with the Royal Garrison Artillery on the Italian theatre of operations in 1917. From observation posts on the hills above the Isonzo Valley he painted a number of striking watercolour landscapes of the battlefield and the distant Austrian lines. (31) Exquisitely painted and beautifully luminous, they are, however, rather limited as images of tactical information - important contour lines are lost in the refined brushwork, keypoints in the enemy line are sacrificed to the principles of aerial perspective, vaporous watercolour technique obscures hard military fact. Only the vertical lines remind us that this is a dangerous killing zone.
Few of the innovations in battlefield drawing advocated by Newton seem to have survived the Great War. A sample panorama provided with the 1921 manual of Map Reading shows a wide tract of country either side of the Etaples-Verton railway in Northern France. Drawn on 3 July 1918 at 0900 hours by a Lieut. J Smith Royal Artillery from an observation post some 15 metres high, it is a classic panorama - an endless vista of land described in a neutral outline. But as a piece of graphic information it relies too much on annotations and arrows, a return to literal description at the expense of pictorial invention.
In artillery and infantry training manuals between the wars, freehand sketching took a poor second place to the technical demands of map work. Panoramic work was regarded as an adjunct to map drawing and was afforded modest coverage in training texts.
During the 1930s gentlemen cadets at Woolwich were still taught map-reading, map-making, field sketching and the drawing of military panoramas by officers of the Royal Engineers. Charles MacFetridge was one cadet who trained at Woolwich. He recalls how drawing was one of his weakest subjects - 'I was appalled at the number of marks allotted' (32) - and he remembered the particular regime of drawing days.
These areas had not been built over, as they are to-day. I recall that we carried strapped on our backs and to our sides a plane table, tripod, alidade, Army map
case, army compass, large sheets of thick gridded paper on which we worked, a set of lead pencils varying from very hard to very soft, and rubbers. We wore
uniforms with well-cut breeches and brown gaiters above strong thick brown boots known as 'sketchers'. These boots did not have to be highly polished like our
other two pairs of boots and were suitable on soft, muddy ground. We must have presented a curious sight and I can recall difficulties when it rained. We spent
three or four days under instruction in this way.(33)
Seven years later, while commanding a battery of mountain artillery on the North West Frontier, MacFetridge had cause to be particularly thankful for a fellow gunner's drawing skills. During a skirmish in December 1940 the 5/8 Punjab Regiment came under severe sniper fire and suffered very heavy casualties. From his forward observation post MacFetridge established telephone communications with his guns. As the battle developed he was greatly relieved to be handed a freshly drawn panorama bought to his command position by a mounted Indian signaller. The panorama was drawn on the back of an Army signal form, a copy of which was held at the guns; significantly the drawing contained the gun data for at least three geographical features, including one peak at the unusual Angle of Sight of 18 degrees. As forward observation officer, 1000 yards in front of the guns, Macfetridge had access to over 20 different panoramas all drawn on cartridge paper. They had been made from both sides of the main road through the hostile territory and showed at least 15 key features, each clearly numbered with data for the guns. Mountain artillery on this theatre of war relied heavily on drawn panoramas. The drawings became treasured possessions, and were even considered as works of art, handed down from battery to battery and embellished by successive gunners.(35)
In Europe during the Second World War military drawing seems to have survived, as one might have anticipated, in the Survey Regiments attached to the Royal Artillery. The constitution of the Field Survey had not changed radically from the Great War; a typical Survey Regiment by the end of the war comprised three batteries: two Observation Batteries each covering a divisional front and one Survey Battery. Each Observation Battery contained two troops - one engaged in flash spotting, the other in sound ranging, each troop had four Observation Posts, which comprised a self- contained unit of 12 men.
John 'Ted' Baker and Ray Evans served in the 8th Survey Regiment and both saw action in the North African and Italian campaigns. In civilian life they worked respectively as a junior draughtsmen and trainee architect and were thus ideal recruits for survey work. They also proved to be adept at drawing military panoramas, though according to Ted Baker this was an unusual skill, rare in either the Survey Regiment or the Artillery. Neither soldier was taught the skills specific to making a useful military panorama. Evans received only minimal instruction in freehand drawing during his six month initial training at Larkhill, achieving little more than the briefest description of a landscape. In fact, perhaps the most effective, certainly the most widely available, drawing course taken by many soldiers was the famous correspondence course run by Percy V Bradshawe's Press Art School, operating from Forest Hill in South London. The course had also been popular in the Great War. 'I have over 1000 pupils in the Army', Bradshawe claimed in The Studio in May 1918, 'Drawing is a Military Utility, a happy hobby, or a lucrative career according to your ability and viewpoint.' (36) Twenty years on, Ray Evans was one soldier who had been assiduously following the postal course; another was the watercolourist Colin Newman who was serving as a cartographic draughtsman with the Royal Engineers. Like Evans, he too went on to become a successful professional artist after the war.
Both Ted Baker and Ray Evans worked in observation posts as flash spotters as part of counter-battery intelligence. In practical terms, they were the eye of the artillery, manning OPs in well concealed positions occasionally ahead of the infantry but, on the Italian front, usually high on the mountain sides which afforded excellent views into valleys and across to slopes controlled by the Germans. Ted Baker was first required to make an actual panorama some days after coming ashore on the Salerno beach-head.
done by somebody who could draw. We had to creep up to the front at night, and draw what you could see, any salient points, and that went back to HQ and they
could get an idea of what you could see from your OP and all that was done by hand, no cameras, no gadgets. It was all very rough and ready. (37)
Striving to find his own drawing style as a fledgling artist Ray Evans recalled his work with the 8th Survey Regiment.
showing compass bearings and this became excellent practice in drawing landscapes.(38)
Like Newton before him Evans was able to fuse the landscape artist's eye with the strict code of military drawing. This synthesis is best achieved in an image of the Gothic Line seen from Ciuitella D'Arno which shows the magnificent vista across the Arno Valley from Evans' Don Post. In his choice of pictorial language Evans adopts the conventions of cartography: roads are highlighted in red, crops in cross- hatching of yellow, trees coloured in green throughout. The result is a terrain seen simultaneously in plan and elevation; a landscape that teeters on the edge of becoming a map. Few of these drawings should have survived. As the fighting moved slowly north Evans and Baker hid their drawings in the foot of their kit bags and forgot about them.
In the decades after the war the army chose to forget about freehand drawing. A War Office manual of 1956, Map Reading, Air Photo Reading and Field Sketching, carried a short end chapter on Panorama Sketching. The manual reiterates the theme that artistic skill does not matter, while asserting that practice is essential. The most noticeable deviation from the innovative style of Newton's manual of 1915 is the ready adoption of conventional representation of features, for example:
map convention, ticks diminishing in thickness from top to bottom, and with a firm line running along the top of the slope in the case if cuttings Moorland or Heath -
These may also be shown by the usual map conventional sign, groups of short upright ticks. (39)
Laser-guided weapon systems and satellite-borne reconnaissance would suggest that there is no need for observational drawing in the late twentieth century. One of the resonating images of the Gulf War was the sight of so-called 'smart' bombs falling with mute precision on grey cityscapes. Yet the art of freehand observational drawing survives in certain branches of the army, notably the mobile light units of the Royal Artillery. In concealed positions far ahead of their guns, operating from a known grid, Forward Observation Officers, normally captains, observe the ground to the front of their battery, determine targets and order fire. An observation party can today call upon a dazzling array of technological gadgetry to reconnoitre a battlefield - powerful binoculars, night sights and thermal imaging devices - but the skill of field sketching is still a valued part of their work, requiring little more than a pencil, paper and a keen eye. Captain Tim Henry, Forward Observation Officer with 266 (GVA) battery, 7 Royal Horse Artillery, a recently converted parachute light gun battery, explains.
onto another party they have to be able to instantly pick up and identify features to the front. When we're drawing we look for key reference points - a prominent
contour line, lone trees, buildings and so on.(40)
Some time later, lying face down in a camouflaged observation post on the barren slopes of Salisbury Plain we filmed the same soldiers directing the fire of the battery's 105 mm light guns onto a fictitious enemy some 500 metres ahead. Carefully avoiding artistic effect, one of the party used a felt-tipped pen to make a diagrammatic picture of the terrain. But, unlike his predecessors' work, few of these images will be committed to history. As the OP prepared to move position the soldier took a damp cloth and, in one movement, wiped the drawing clean off the sheet of acetate.
1 Rules and Orders 1792 cited in Lt..Col.H.D.Buchanan R.A., Records of the Royal Military Academy, 1741 - 1892, Cattermole, Woolwich, 1892, p 33.
2 For a full account of Sandby's influence see Martin Hardie, Watercolour Painting in Britain, Vol. 1, The Eighteenth Century, Batsford, London, 1966, p 216 - 222.
3 John Constable to John Dunthorne, 29 May 1802.
4 For a full account of the teaching of art in the nineteenth century see Gordon Sutton, Artist or Artisan ?, Permagon Press, London, 1967.
5 Major F Legge, Military Sketching and Map Reading, Gale and Polden, Aldershot, 1906.
6 Bertrand Stewart, Active Service Pocket Book, William Clowes, London, 1907.
7 In summer 1994 a replica of this drawing frame was built according to the specifications laid out in the 1907 drawing manual. It was used during the making of the HTV documentary Drawing Fire to help train artillery officers in the rudiments of freehand sketching. Although useful as a drawing device it proved a large, rather unwieldy piece of equipment, difficult to camouflage and even more difficult to stick in the ground.
8 Harry Bateman quoted in Malcolm Brown, Tommy Goes to War, JM Dent, 1978, p 185 - 187. Bateman's drawings are held in the Department of Art nos. 6319 - 6338.
9 David Jones, Dai Greatcoat, (ed.Rene Hague) Faber, London, 1980, p 241 - 243. An account of Jones' short service with 'The Survey' is told in "David Jones and The Survey", Peter Chasseaud, Stand To ! The Journal of the Western Front Association, no.39, Winter 1993, p 18 - 22.
10 Adrian Hill interviewed in The Graphic, 15 November 1930.
11 Francis D. Klingender, Art and the Industrial Revolution, 1947, Paladin edition, St Albans, 1972, p 67.
12 Paul Maze, A Frenchman in Khaki, Heinemann, London, 1934, p 130.
13 William Rothenstein, Men and Memories: Recollections of William Rothenstein 1900 - 1922, Faber and Faber, 1932, Vol.2, p 334.
14 Maze, op.cit., p 140.
15 IWM Department of Art no. 6070.
16 IWM Department of Art no. 6072.
17 Maze, op.cit., p 138.
18 Maze, op.cit., p 275.
19 William Roberts, Memories of the War to End all Wars: 4.5 Howitzer Gunner R.F.A. 1916 - 1918, Canada Press, London, 1974, p 27 - 28.
20 William G. Newton, Military Landscape Sketching and Target Indication, Hugh Rees, London, 1916.
21 Newton, ibid., p 6.
22 Newton, ibid., p 8.
23 Newton, ibid., p 9.
24 See for example the string and ruler contraptions suggested in the War Office Manual of Map Reading and Sketching, 1912, p 51 and in Landscape Sketching for Military Purposes
by Capt. A.F.U. Green, Hugh Rees, London, 1908, fig. 12, p.25.
25 Newton, op.cit., p 27.
26 R.F.C., "Topographical Sketching in the Army ", The Studio, February 1916, p 44 - 45.
27 ibid., p 45.
28 H.E.L.Mellersh, Schoolboy into War, William Kimber, London, 1978, p 52.
29 War Office, Manual of Map Reading and Sketching, HMSO, 1912/1914, p 75.
30 ibid., p 75.
31 IWM Department of Art nos. 270 - 277.
32 Letter to author, 25 June 1991.
35 For a fuller description of this, MacFetridge's first day with 15 (Jhelum) Mountain Battery, see Tales of the Mountain Gunners, by CHT MacFetridge and JP Warren, William Blackwood,
Edinburgh, 1973, p 121 - 126.
36 Advert in The Studio, May 1918.
37 John 'Ted' Baker, interview for 'Drawing Fire', HTV June 1994.
38 Ray Evans, Sketching with Ray Evans, William Collins, London, 1989, p 5.
39 War Office, Manual of Map Reading and Air Photo Reading and Field Sketching, Part III Field Sketching, HMSO, 1957, p 65 - 66.
40 Captain Tim Henry, interview for 'Drawing Fire', HTV June 1994.
The author wishes to thank John Baker and Ray Evans RI (formerly 8th Survey Regiment), Lt. Col. Charles H.T. MacFetridge RA (Retd), WO ii BSM Douglas Gough RA (Retd), Major J.D. Braisby RA (Retd), Major A.S.Hill RA (Retd), Lt.Col.P.N.Mason RE (Retd), Col.G.S.Hatch CBE RA (Retd), Brigadier K.A.Timbers RA (Retd) Historical Secretary The Royal Artillery Historical Trust.
The field research would not have been possible without the enthusiastic support of Brigadier Bruce Jackman OBE MC, Major Mark Walton MC 7 RHA, Capt. Tim Henry 7 266 (GVA) Battery 7 RHA and Bombardier Steve McNally 266 Battery.
Thanks are due also to Suzanne Bardgett and Janet Mihell, to David Cohen, military art dealer, Ken Atherton curator at the Hydrographic Office, Taunton, the late Bob Headley-Lewis, drawing master at Brittania Royal Naval College and to the support team at HTV Bristol: Abigail Davies, director, Stephen Matthews and Jeremy Payne, executive producers, and Mike Hastie, camera.
return to the top of the page