Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Series Editors’ Preface
- Dedication
- Introduction: Projecting Britain
- 1 Out of the People: J. B. Priestley’s Broadbrow Radicalism
- 2 James Hanley and the Shape of the Wartime Features Department
- 3 To Build the Falling Castle: Louis MacNeice and the Drama of Form
- 4 Versions of Neutrality: Denis Johnston’s War Reports
- 5 Calling the West Indies: Una Marson’s Wireless Black Atlantic
- Coda: Coronation
- Bibliography
- Index
4 - Versions of Neutrality: Denis Johnston’s War Reports
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 28 April 2021
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Series Editors’ Preface
- Dedication
- Introduction: Projecting Britain
- 1 Out of the People: J. B. Priestley’s Broadbrow Radicalism
- 2 James Hanley and the Shape of the Wartime Features Department
- 3 To Build the Falling Castle: Louis MacNeice and the Drama of Form
- 4 Versions of Neutrality: Denis Johnston’s War Reports
- 5 Calling the West Indies: Una Marson’s Wireless Black Atlantic
- Coda: Coronation
- Bibliography
- Index
Summary
On 17 January 1956, more than two years after the publication of Nine Rivers from Jordan, a monumental memoir of his years as a war correspondent, Denis Johnston received an unexpected souvenir from the past. His journal records the incident:
I was taking part in a panel discussion about something in the Belfast BBC Studios, when an Announcer came in and placed a heavy automatic pistol and a few rounds of ammunition on the table before me, and then left with a relieved and somewhat cynical smile.
‘This is yours, I believe,’ he said.
The incident caused some mixed reactions amongst the other members of the panel, so in some embarrassment I took the weapon hastily & shoved it under the table until the broadcast was over, explaining that it was something left behind since the war days. (Johnston [n.d.], MS 3751)
Picked up from a pile of discarded arms outside the gates of Buchenwald in April 1945, the pistol was more than a reminder of the wartime travels that had brought Johnston from Egypt, across North Africa, north through Italy and into Germany. It indexed a further journey: from a commitment to a multiform neutrality – encompassing journalistic objectivity, technological immediacy and political non-alignment – to a conviction that neutrality represents an ideal incommensurate with the traumas of the Second World War. An examination of his wartime broadcasts, journals and memoirs reveals the pistol to be a loaded correlative of Johnston's lost and found commitment to a moral universe of rights and wrongs. In arming himself at the end of the war, he had finally taken a side.
The belated recovery of the weapon makes for a tidy anecdote about the return of the wartime repressed; indeed, in its elegant and compact symbolism, the scene is typical of Johnston's highly mediated autobiographical writings. Johnston was a prodigious chronicler of his own life: during the war, he recorded day-by-day observations about life as a correspondent in what he called his ‘War Field Books’. While the ‘War Field Books’ form only one part of Johnston's agglomeration of unpub-lished life writing, they represent the most substantial and detailed account therein of his experience of the war.
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- Writing the Radio WarLiterature, Politics, and the BBC, 1939–1945, pp. 117 - 152Publisher: Edinburgh University PressPrint publication year: 2018