The Childrens' Story of the War, Volume 1 (of 10) From the Beginning of the War to the Landing of the British Army in France — Context and Discussion

From Earthquake to Ultimatum

The first chapter opens with a long, almost novelistic description of Messina before the 1908 earthquake: 'all life and light and gaiety.' Parrott uses this calm-before-storm structure to mirror the outbreak of war. He then traces the diplomatic crisis of July 1914 through a series of clear, cause-and-effect statements: the assassination, Austria's ultimatum, Russia's mobilization, Germany's declaration of war. The prose is factual but not dry; Parrott occasionally inserts a rhetorical question or exclamation to maintain engagement.

Notably, he does not dwell on the assassination itself but treats it as a trigger. The pace accelerates as the chapter progresses, moving from the leisurely description of Messina to the rapid-fire sequence of events in late July. This shift in tempo mirrors the suddenness of the war's outbreak, which Parrott calls 'a bolt from the blue.' The chapter ends with Britain's entry, framed as a moral necessity.

The Submarine as Technical Marvel

In Chapter XVII, 'The Submarine that Failed,' Parrott pauses the narrative of battles to deliver a detailed explanation of submarine technology. He describes the periscope as 'the eye of the submarine,' the torpedo as 'a little warship in itself,' and the diving process step by step. The language is precise and instructional: 'A valve is opened, and air is allowed to escape from the water-ballast tanks.'

This section reads like a classroom lesson, complete with diagrams referenced in the text. Parrott uses analogies (the periscope as a mirror system) and concrete numbers (torpedo speed of 'forty or fifty miles an hour') to make the technology accessible. The tone is neutral, almost admiring of the engineering, even as he calls submarines 'the deadliest things that keep the sea.' The shift from narrative history to technical exposition is abrupt but effective, giving young readers a tangible sense of modern warfare.

The Failed Attack of U-9

The chapter culminates in a dramatic set piece: the German submarine U-9 sights British cruisers and prepares to attack. Parrott builds tension through precise details: the commander 'closes his glasses with a snap,' the crew 'standing by the motors,' the boat sinking 'awash' before diving. The prose becomes cinematic, following the commander's perspective as he 'glues his eyes to the mirror.'

Yet the attack fails—the torpedo misses, and the submarine is forced to retreat. Parrott does not embellish the outcome; he simply states that the British cruisers 'escaped.' This restraint is notable in a work otherwise patriotic. The failed attack serves as a cautionary tale about the limits of technology. The chapter ends with a return to the broader narrative, but the submarine episode lingers as a self-contained story of tension and anticlimax.

Parrott's volume is best read as a period piece that reveals how the war was presented to British children in its first months. The shifts in pace—from leisurely pre-war scenes to technical digressions to tense action sequences—reflect an author trying to balance education, patriotism, and narrative interest. Readers should note that the book covers only the opening weeks of the war, ending with the landing of the British Expeditionary Force in France. Later volumes continue the story.

That rainy afternoon, the boys and I lost ourselves in Parrott’s earnest telling of the war’s first months—the strange technical patience for submarines, the clear-eyed patriotism before the mud and slaughter arrived. Eventually, the book slipped to the floor, and my gaze fell on the neighboring stack, where a quieter title waited quietly. A Defence of the Hessians — Background and Themes now sits beside it, another voice from that older century, offering a different kind of loyalty.