Battle lines
Many military museums have a fight on their hands as they face funding troubles or – in some cases – the threat of closure. But they are soldiering on and confronting the additional challenges posed by the British Army’s labyrinthine mergers and a diminishing public appetite for graphic war stories with a charm offensive full of heartwarming tales of ordinary people in very difficult circumstances. John Holt talks to some of those on the front line
Rachel Adams Curator, Firing Line Museum of The Queen’s Dragoon Guards and The Royal Welsh, Cardiff Castle
In an operation that required great courage, planning and sensitivity, the proud histories of two great Welsh fighting forces were amalgamated to form the Firing Line Museum in Cardiff Castle in 2010.
Strong regimental identities meant that combining collections was always going to disappoint a lot of people, but it was clear that the Ministry of Defence (MoD) was moving towards a policy of “one museum per cap badge”, says curator Rachel Adams.
“Had we remained in the previous format of two separate regimental museums on the castle site, we would now be facing some very difficult choices,” she adds.
“We still face the challenge of being an independent museum housed inside a local authority tourist attraction but, over the first 10 years, we have found some reciprocal benefits.”
The museum’s visitor numbers have risen from 48,000 a year a decade ago to 124,000 in the last financial year, according to Adams.
The Firing Line, she says, uses a social history context to tell tales of “ordinary people doing extraordinary things in very difficult circumstances” in its quest to attract as wide a range of visitors as possible.
“Military museums have faced accusations of simply glorifying war but that couldn’t be further from the truth,” says Adams. “While that’s a worthwhile discussion to be involved in, as a sector we certainly haven’t been good enough at shouting about the human element in what we do or how good our collections and events actually are.”
The Firing Line has, for example, been working closely with language students at Cardiff University to ensure its audioguides can be understood by visitors from around the world.
“We have a Japanese prayer flag decorated with good luck messages that soldiers carried into battle,” says Adams. “When those messages were translated, it completely changed our perception of it.
“Suddenly, it was no longer simply a captured trophy of war, but a precious object covered in moving text containing the real thoughts of real people.
“Objects, ideally, should speak for themselves, rather than having to be explained in mundane captions.”
Similarly, an ordinary letter in the collection written by a first world war conscript to his mother speaks volumes, she adds.
“He writes that he couldn’t tell her he was joining up because she would have kicked off about it. In the follow-up letter, he complains about army-issue pants. It’s that kind of humanity that is really meaningful.”
Christine Pullen, curator, Royal Green Jackets (Rifles) Museum, Winchester
Children of all ages love playing soldiers at the Royal Green Jackets (Rifles) Museum, where the dressing-up box full of replica uniforms features everything from Napoleonic garb to second world war battle dress.
And as if that’s not enough, the wannabe squaddies then move on to the museum’s 25sq m son et lumière-driven diorama of the Battle of Waterloo complete with more than 30,000 toy soldiers and horses, as well as commentary by former BBC war correspondent Kate Adie.
“Two of our former regiments took part in the battle and, for the 200th anniversary four years ago, we decided to bring the old model bang up to date,” says museum curator Christine Pullen.
“It was cleaned up and given the new simplified commentary, so that everyone can understand just what’s going on, because the previous one had lots of technical military terminology.”
Other talking points in the collection include a touchscreen display, which provides detailed information about the daring deeds of the former regiment’s 59 Victoria Cross winners, and the uniform worn by ex-soldier and Bravo Two Zero author, Andy McNab, when he was a prisoner of the Iraqis during the first Gulf War.
“He was in the Royal Green Jackets before the SAS,” says Pullen. “There’s an air of secrecy that surrounds him, which gives that display an extra edge.”
The museum is another institution that is having to adapt to life after MoD funding ends in 2030. It has forged close links with the five other military museums also housed in and around the Peninsula Barracks buildings, which were built 100 years ago on the site of an unfinished palace that the architect Christopher Wren designed for Charles II.
“As well as general visitors, many veterans come to visit, and after enjoying the displays, they reminisce about the days when they marched up and down on the parade ground outside,” says Pullen. “There are so many memories here.”
Mary Godwin, director, Cornwall’s Regimental Museum, Bodmin
One of Cornwall’s Regimental Museum’s greatest assets is the building in which it is housed – the imposing Victorian barracks known as The Keep.
“It’s such an important part of the county’s history,” says Mary Godwin, the director of the museum. “Someone from every Cornish family will have walked through the barrack gates during the first world war, not knowing if they would ever make it back home again.”
But, ironically, the building – which houses the collections of the Light Infantry, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry and volunteer militia – could be the museum’s downfall.
“It is still owned by the MoD, which nominally maintains it and, under our lease agreement, pays for our services,” says Godwin. “But the MoD hasn’t the resources to invest in such an old edifice, so we’re living hand-to-mouth in terms of keeping it in a fit state to receive visitors. For example, the museum is upstairs but there’s no lift and there’s just an outside toilet for women.”
The museum, like many other institutions dedicated to disappearing county regiments, is scheduled to lose all MoD funding in 2030, says Godwin.
“We have 10 years to find a way to operate without its support. We’re not one of those military museums that has a regimental trust fund behind it. The rest of the barracks has been sold off for redevelopment and that could happen to us.”
Slowly but surely, however, the museum has been attracting more visitors – about 12,000 are expected this year compared with 3,000 in 2015 – thanks to the sterling work of its volunteer force and a series of community-based events.
The programme ranges from team-building exercises run by former service personnel to theatre productions in the attic room and concerts in the downstairs hall. One thing the museum is not short of is space.
It receives financial support from the Arts Council England’s National Portfolio museum partnership programme, while it undertakes joint marketing with other local institutions.
Since joining the cultural sector after 30 years in investment management, Godwin has sought out smaller organisations to make them fit for purpose and self-sufficient.
“If you think of military history as something discrete, life is going to be difficult. We think of it as human history and everything is imbued with that,” she says, citing the example of the museum’s Lucknow Quilt as an object with wide appeal.
“It was made by British women trapped during the defence of Lucknow in 1857, as the Indian fighters attacked. The women made the patchwork out of the uniforms of dead soldiers.
“It’s so inspirational, with so many narratives and the potential to connect with people from historians to anyone with an interest in textiles.”
Mick Holtby, curator, Royal Lancers and Nottinghamshire Yeomanry Museum, Thoresby Park, Nottinghamshire
After 24 years in the military, Mick Holtby did not manage to escape far from army life. Signing up for a civil service post, he was asked to look after the regalia, medals, paintings and silver belonging to what was then the Queen’s Royal Lancers (QRL), a new cavalry brigade formed from the amalgamation of two regiments.
The collection of the QRL’s disparate objects was originally represented by a temporary display in a territorial army barracks in Staffordshire.
“Museums in those places aren’t much use as they’re behind wire and anyone wanting to visit has to make an appointment,” says Holtby, who took a curator’s course when a museum was established in the more stately surroundings of Belvoir Castle, the hilltop home of the Dukes of Rutland.
“But after 10 years, the castle was looking to cut its opening hours and the display was looking tired, so everything was put in boxes in winter 2007, as we searched for another home.”
The museum exchanged one country pile for another when it moved into the courtyard of the Thoresby estate in Nottinghamshire, home to the Pierrepont family who had decided to establish a heritage, arts and crafts operation in a former stable block.
The museum invited two local yeomanry regiments to add their collections, and the new joint venture opened eight years ago in an idyllic rural location, which now attracts 35,000 visitors a year.
Meanwhile, the convoluted catalogue of consolidation that is today’s British Army saw the QRL undergo yet another amalgamation to become the Royal Lancers in 2015.
As well as MoD funding, the museum derives income from its friends’ organisation, says Holtby, a former regimental sergeant major whose parade ground experience still comes in handy.
“The sense of order you learn is useful,” he says. “I looked after my own weapon for years and now I’m supervising the care, conservation and storage of many historical objects that we use to inspire and educate new generations of visitors.
“I understand why younger people who have not been associated with conflict may have a different view of things; we are sensitive to that, as we’re not just here for old comrades.”
Like many military institutions, the museum provides an excellent service for visitors seeking information about fallen family members.
“Being able to carry out research from an old photo or medal, and then show someone a Commonwealth War Graves record of where an ancestor is buried is a special moment,” says Holtby.
Stuart Kennedy, curator, Black Watch Museum, Balhousie Castle, Perth
As if the menacing walls and turrets aren’t scary enough, visitors to Balhousie Castle receive a dramatic introduction to the culture and reputation of the notorious Black Watch.
Early in the tour, they are confronted with a painting of the regiment fighting the French at Fontenoy in 1745. Dating from the 1890s, it is dominated by the not inconsiderable figure of original commander, colonel Robert Munro.
“He is depicted as a Victorian hero, strong and resolute while his men are on the floor,” says Stuart Kennedy. “In reality, the men were told to ‘clap to the ground’ so the French musket balls flew overhead.
“Munro was a large man and, by his own admission, may have been able to fall to the floor but would not have been able to get back up again. The picture is, however, a great way to show the symbolism and spectacle of the kilts and bagpipes.”
A few months after the battle, Black Watch was kept in southern England on its return from northern Europe, as the Jacobite rebellion gained momentum from the north.
The museum – which opened after an appeal helped raise more than £3m in 2009 – tells the story of Black Watch from its founding in 1739 to its amalgamation into the Royal Regiment of Scotland in 2006.
It costs more than £800,000 a year to keep the doors open and the charitable trust, which receives less than 3% in regular grant funding, relies heavily on commercial activity.
The castle is a popular location for events and the museum works hard to ensure the collection is included in all visitor programmes.
“This year, for example, we introduced children’s birthday parties, putting an army slant on traditional games such as ‘pin the medal on the soldier’,” Kennedy says. “After that, they go in our trench and finish with a ration-themed lunch.”
The secret to running such an organisation with military precision is that everyone from the chief executive down pitches in, says Kennedy.
“I often clear cafe tables,” he adds. “It’s not something I came into museums to do but it’s important to recognise that the cafe contributes income, and we are all in this together.”