Peter Thorsheim's Waste into Weapons has been described by its publisher as “the first in-depth history of twentieth-century recycling in Britain.” Waste management is a relatively new area of historical inquiry, but is of growing interest to environmental, urban, and social historians alike. In the British case, research has been focused on the recycling—or “salvage”—schemes organized during the First and Second World Wars. Thorsheim's thought-provoking monograph on the Second World War is a very welcome addition to this scholarship.
The book is organized in three parts. In the first, “Beating Ploughshares into Swords,” Thorsheim provides a wide-ranging account of shifting public opinion towards salvage. He demonstrates that people were convinced of the need to recycle as the Second World War intensified. However, Thorsheim also hints at a complex relationship between the British state and a rather skeptical public. In the second part, “Alliances,” Thorsheim provides a case study focused on Britain's relationship with the United States. It shows how the British government used salvage to demonstrate its commitment to the war effort during negotiations for Lend-Lease. In the final part, “History, Culture and Civil Liberties,” Thorsheim considers the wider impact of salvage. Thorsheim highlights the demolition of ornamental metalwork, the requisition of historic artefacts, and the pulping of millions of books, arguing that the war fostered an almost Orwellian paradox whereby preservation could be regarded as wasteful while conservation was designed to produce tools of destruction (4).
Thorsheim's conclusions are the result of meticulous research. He makes use of material from twenty-two different archives, a wide range of local and national newspapers, an extensive list of contemporary publications, and an interview with the relatives of a married couple who refused to give up their waste because they were conscientious objectors. (One can infer that the relatively scant material from central government is evidence of the type of destruction outlined in the third part of the book.) Although Thorsheim says surprisingly little about his methodology, this range of material gives the study its shape, reminding readers that there is more to British history than the contents of the National Archives at Kew. The use of papers from the United States is similarly important. Indeed, it is hard to imagine how a study of global resources during a World War could be undertaken without this international dimension.
One of the strongest arguments Thorsheim makes with Waste to Weapons is that its subject matter is too often overlooked. As Thorsheim notes in the introduction, salvage has largely been overlooked in previous studies of the Second World War (2). This absence has had a distortive effect. Instead of being treated as a subject in its own right, wartime recycling has been more often used to simply illustrate notions of the “people's war” and the wider culture of “make-do-and-mend.” Thorsheim shows that the role it played in mobilizing civilians for the war effort was important. Yet, his book also demonstrates that salvage was more than a tool of propaganda, and that evocative images of British women donating metal cookware were not representative of the system as a whole.
With Waste into Weapons, Thorsheim offers new insight by weaving colorful case studies into a broader narrative of wartime economics that establishes their significance. To stay with the example of cookware: Thorsheim carefully links the “Saucepans into Spitfires” campaign with the German occupation of France, explaining that France and its colonies had been the source of 80 percent of British bauxite before May 1940 (67). The removal of iron railings starting in the summer of 1941 is explored with a similar eye for detail. Indeed, while the precise reasons for requisition are not officially recorded, Thorsheim convincingly argues that it was a response to increased war production in the United States, which had resulted in a suspension of exports of scrap metal to Britain (204).
Thorsheim uses such examples to argue that salvage “exemplified total war” more than any other wartime activity (8). By drawing attention to the millions of people (mostly women and children) who were involved in Britain's salvage campaign, he argues that salvage “dissolved the boundaries” between soldier and civilian (7). In doing so, he considers wider issues of morale, popular participation, and the balance between compulsion and coercion during the Second World War. These issues are shown to be nuanced, with examples of both participation and obstinacy highlighted throughout. This is an important contribution to recent discussions and will be of genuine interest to anyone concerned with the social and cultural history of the Second World War. And it is a contribution that will encourage more research into the everyday experience of salvage itself.
Waste into Weapons, then, is an important book, one that firmly establishes recycling as an area of historical research and hints at possible avenues for future investigation. It is recommended reading for anybody who wishes to delve into the rich history of the Second World War.
