A classic story of men in the trenches
Frederic Manning, the author of this book, which is also known as Her Privates We, was a well regarded Australian writer and poet who settled in the United Kingdom in the early years of the 20th century. He moved in bohemian circles and was frail in health and a heavy smoker despite suffering from asthma. He was nevertheless keen to enlist when war came in 1914 and predictably had some difficulty persuading the Army to accept him. In 1915, however, he managed to enlist in the Shropshire Light Infantry as a private soldier. He failed his officer training course. In 1916 he took part in the battle of the Somme and proved himself an able NCO. Subsequently he was promoted to Second Lieutenant and transferred to the Royal Irish Regiment where he proved to be unsuccessful officer material. His combat experiences, inebriation and poor health had taken their toll and he resigned his commission in 1918. Manning continued writing, producing poetry, novels and non fiction. This book, originally published anonymously, is based on Manning's authentic wartime experiences, but it is a novel. Its principal character, Bourne was named after a small English town where Manning had spent much of his time. The Middle Parts of Fortune is now considered to be one of the few true classic of the literature of war and tells the story, in the starkest terms, of ordinary men enduring the privations and dangers of the Western Front during the Great War.
Leonaur editions are newly typeset and are not facsimiles; each title is available in softcover and hardback with dustjacket; our hardbacks are cloth bound and feature gold foil lettering on their spines and fabric head and tail bands.

First published in 1929, it is now available as a brand new book. The story is an account of the lives of ordinary soldiers. The central character, Bourne is an enigmatic character and Manning tells his own wartime experiences through him. It is forcibly written, too forcibly for the sensibilities of the time, and a censored version was produced in 1930 under the title 'Her Privates We'.

First published privately in 1929 as The Middle Parts of Fortune, Her Privates We is the novel of the Battle of the Somme told from the perspective of Bourne, an ordinary private. A raw and shockingly honest portrait of men engaged in war, 'that peculiarly human activity', the original edition was subject to 'prunings and excisions' because the bluntness of language was thought to make the book unfit for public distribution. This edition restores them. An undisputed classic of war writing and a lasting tribute to all who participated in the war, Her Privates We was originally published as written by 'Private 19022'. Championed by Ernest Hemingway, Ezra Pound, TS Eliot and TE Lawrence, it has become recognised as a classic in the seventy years since its first publication. Now republished, with an introduction by William Boyd, it will again amaze a new generation of readers with its depiction of the horror, the ordinariness and the humanity of war.

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger PublishingAcentsa -a centss Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for e

The world seemed extraordinarily empty of men, though he knew the ground was alive with them. He was breathing with difficulty, his mouth and throat seemed to be cracking with dryness, and his water bottle was empty. Coming to a dugout, he groped his way down, feeling for the steps with his feet; a piece of Wilson canvas, hung across the passage but twisted aside, rasped his cheek; and a few steps lower his face was enveloped suddenly in the musty folds of a blanket. The dugout was empty. For the moment he collapsed there, indifferent to everything.

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

A classic story of men in the trenches
Frederic Manning, the author of this book, which is also known as Her Privates We, was a well regarded Australian writer and poet who settled in the United Kingdom in the early years of the 20th century. He moved in bohemian circles and was frail in health and a heavy smoker despite suffering from asthma. He was nevertheless keen to enlist when war came in 1914 and predictably had some difficulty persuading the Army to accept him. In 1915, however, he managed to enlist in the Shropshire Light Infantry as a private soldier. He failed his officer training course. In 1916 he took part in the battle of the Somme and proved himself an able NCO. Subsequently he was promoted to Second Lieutenant and transferred to the Royal Irish Regiment where he proved to be unsuccessful officer material. His combat experiences, inebriation and poor health had taken their toll and he resigned his commission in 1918. Manning continued writing, producing poetry, novels and non fiction. This book, originally published anonymously, is based on Manning's authentic wartime experiences, but it is a novel. Its principal character, Bourne was named after a small English town where Manning had spent much of his time. The Middle Parts of Fortune is now considered to be one of the few true classic of the literature of war and tells the story, in the starkest terms, of ordinary men enduring the privations and dangers of the Western Front during the Great War.
Leonaur editions are newly typeset and are not facsimiles; each title is available in softcover and hardback with dustjacket; our hardbacks are cloth bound and feature gold foil lettering on their spines and fabric head and tail bands.

The world seemed extraordinarily empty of men, though he knew the ground was alive with them. He was breathing with difficulty, his mouth and throat seemed to be cracking with dryness, and his water bottle was empty. Coming to a dugout, he groped his way down, feeling for the steps with his feet; a piece of Wilson canvas, hung across the passage but twisted aside, rasped his cheek; and a few steps lower his face was enveloped suddenly in the musty folds of a blanket. The dugout was empty. For the moment he collapsed there, indifferent to everything.

The world seemed extraordinarily empty of men, though he knew the ground was alive with them. He was breathing with difficulty, his mouth and throat seemed to be cracking with dryness, and his water bottle was empty. Coming to a dugout, he groped his way down, feeling for the steps with his feet; a piece of Wilson canvas, hung across the passage but twisted aside, rasped his cheek; and a few steps lower his face was enveloped suddenly in the musty folds of a blanket. The dugout was empty. For the moment he collapsed there, indifferent to everything.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

War is waged by men; not by beasts, or by gods. It is a peculiarly human activity. To call it a crime against mankind is to miss at least half its significance; it is also the punishment of a crime. That raises a moral question, the kind of problem with which the present age is disinclined to deal. Perhaps some future attempt to provide a solution for it may prove to be even more astonishing than the last. While this book is a record of experience on the Somme and Ancre fronts, with an interval behind the lines, during the latter half of the year 1916; and the events described in it actually happened; the characters are fictitious. It is true that in recording the conversations, the men seemed at times to hear the voices of ghosts. Their judgments were necessarily partial and prejudiced; but prejudices and partialities provide most of the driving power of life.

The world seemed extraordinarily empty of men, though he knew the ground was alive with them. He was breathing with difficulty, his mouth and throat seemed to be cracking with dryness, and his water bottle was empty. Coming to a dugout, he groped his way down, feeling for the steps with his feet; a piece of Wilson canvas, hung across the passage but twisted aside, rasped his cheek; and a few steps lower his face was enveloped suddenly in the musty folds of a blanket. The dugout was empty. For the moment he collapsed there, indifferent to everything.

Set in the mud and stench of the Somme this is a grim, sardonic tale of war that let William Boyd to say 'this is the finest novel to come out of the First World War'.
They can say what they bloody well like, but we're a fuckin' fine mob.'
Deep in the mud, stench of the Somme, Bourne is trying his best to stay alive. There he finds the intense fraternity of war and fear unlike anything he has ever known.
Frederic Manning's novel was first published anonymously in 1929. The honesty with which he wrote about the horror, the boredom, and the futility of war inspired Ernest Hemingway to read the novel every year, 'to remember how things really were so that I will never lie to myself nor to anyone else about them'.