A Terrible Precedent – Taking Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #3)

The Polish-Czechoslovak War may have been short and quickly forgotten by all except the combatants, but that still does not make it any easier to view a photo of atrocities committed during the conflict. Twenty men are laying on their backs in the snow close to a wrought iron fence.  Many of them have stunned looks on their faces. Others look as though they have fallen asleep. Only in this case they will never wake up. The photo was taken at the village of Stonava in the aftermath of a massacre that occurred on January 26,1919, when 20 Polish soldiers were killed by Czechoslovak troops. They were victims of the burst of violence which marked the Polish-Czechoslovak War. The men look innocent, though their murderers had considered them guilty. Their only crime was to be on the wrong side in a war that need not have been fought. The same could be said for so many of the conflicts that followed in the immediate post-World War I chaos to consume Europe.  

 Poisonous legacy – Bodies of Polish soldiers killed by Czech legionaries at Stonava

Taking Advantage – First With The Most
The Polish-Czechoslovak War was short, nasty, and brutish. It was also one-sided. Much of that had to do with Czechoslovak forces adhering to a key tenet of successful military actions by getting their first with the most. The idea is simple. Get more forces to the military objective before the other side does. If this is done in a well-coordinated and expedient manner, it gives the side that arrives first with a greater number of troops an advantage that will be extremely hard for the opposition to overcome. This sums up what Czechoslovak forces did so well in the Polish-Czechoslovak War fought in January 1919. The conflict is also known as the Seven Day War. In a war fought within such a narrow span of time, speed and numbers were of the utmost importance. Czechoslovakia was able to mobilize a much greater number of forces than Poland.

While Czechoslovakia was much smaller than Poland, it selected the optimal time for combat operations. The Poles gave the Czechoslovaks a pretense for war when they decided to hold elections in Teschen Silesia (Cieszyn Silesia) for the Sejm (Poland’s Parliament). This would have established Polish sovereignty over the territory. The Czechoslovaks quickly reacted. The speed at which they sent soldiers to Teschen Silesia caught the Poles flat footed. On January 23^rd, Czechoslovak Lieutenant-Colonel Josef Snejdarek met with Polish General Franciszek Latinak. Snejdarek informed him that Polish forces must withdraw from the region. He said that the western powers had sanctioned the Czech occupation of Teschen Silesia. Latinik refused. He doubted Snejdarek’s justification for good reason. It was a lie. Two hours after the meeting, Czechoslovak forces moved forward. The Poles were in an untenable position and Teschen Silesia was only one of their many military problems. They were already engaged in a war with Ukrainian forces around the city of Lwow (Lviv) and on the cusp of an even larger war with the Soviets. The last thing Poland needed was yet another war in a frontier region. That was just what the Czechoslovaks gave them.

After the fact – Polish troops entering Teschen after armistice with Czechoslovaks in February 1919

Grave Damage – A Broken Relationship
The Poles did not have enough soldiers to adequately defend the region. This allowed Czechoslovak forces to achieve their two main objectives, taking control of the Kosice-Bohumin Railway and the Karvina coal fields. The Czechs never relinquished the initiative during the seven days of fighting. This allowed them to establish facts on the ground before they were forced to halt their military activities due to pressure from the western powers. By that time, Czechoslovakia had achieved its goal of occupying the specific parts of Teschen Silesia it coveted. Their tactical victory would later turn into a strategic one. The Czechs were able to secure at the negotiating table what they had established on the ground. They achieved these goals with minimal casualties, but the collateral damage was immense. Czech soldiers committed atrocities against both Polish soldiers and civilians, The worst of these were the twenty Polish soldiers murdered at Stonava. This incident, along with several others, did grave damage to Czechoslovakia-Poland relationship.  

Czechoslovakia’s impetuous actions were successful in the short term, but ultimately came at great cost. There was no easy way to repair the damage that had been done. The Poles had a long memory. They felt Czechoslovakia was opportunistic when Poland was at a weak point. The hard feeling lasted throughout the interwar period. Relations between Czechoslovakia and Poland were perpetually tense. The Seven Day War for Teschen Silesia was a wound that continued to fester. This would have ramifications well beyond a single week of fighting. After Hitler rose to power in 1933, Czechoslovakia and Poland needed a collective security alliance more than ever before. Neither was big enough to single handedly hold off the German military. A revitalized relationship would have made it difficult for Hitler to turn against one or the other. Tragically, Czechoslovakia and Poland had done little during the interwar period to repair relations. Hitler used this to his advantage. When the Germans secured the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia due to the Munich agreement, Poland stood idly by. There was no such thing as a united front in Eastern Europe to oppose the Third Reich.

An eye for an eye – Monument to Czechoslovak victims of Polish occupation of Teschen Silesia in 1938 (Credit: I. Ondrej Zvacek)

Full Circle – A Cynical Symmetry
When Czechoslovakia lost the Sudetenland to the Germans in 1938, Poland saw an opportunity to retake Teschen Silesia. The Czechoslovaks were too weak to confront them. Poland reoccupied the area they had lost two decades before. The Poles committed their own share of atrocities. Czechoslovakia was stripped of its territory. The controversy over Teschen Silesia had come full circle. Poland was now in the position that Czechoslovakia had been in 1919. The cynical symmetry of this back and forth served to weaken both countries. When a stronger relationship was needed, neither side was willing. The upshot was that both nations would end up succumbing to the Germans.

Could this have turned out differently if the Seven-Day War never happened? That is impossible to answer. What can be said is that the fight for Teschen Siesia provided short term gains at long term cost. For such a small war this one had an outsized effect. This was a case where an eye for an eye left everyone blind. Was the war worth it for Czechoslovakia? In 1919 the answer was yes. By 1938, the answer was a resounding no. For tactical gains, Czechoslovakia had made a tragic mistake from which they could not recover.

Opportunity Costs – Trying To Take Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #2)

It is difficult to overstate just how consumed by conflict Eastern Europe was following the end of World War I. Wars, cross-border conflicts, and armed uprisings broke out across the region. Land, ideology, natural resources, ethnic frictions, and railroads were the cause of numerous conflicts. Trying to figure out exactly when World War I ended, and peace began in the region is not clear. There were numerous important moments, rather than a single definitive one.

This was unlike the western front where the signing of an armistice at Compiegne in France ended the war on November 11, 1918. Combat on the Eastern Front supposedly ended eight months earlier when the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk was agreed between the Central Powers (Germany, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire) and Soviet Russia. German and Austro-Hungarian troops then occupied territory that had been part of the Russian Empire. Their occupation came to an end with the armistice at Compiegne. This led to a power vacuum that opened a pandora’s box of conflicts throughout Eastern Europe.

Dueling identities – Signs at Cesky Tesin (Czeski Cieszyn) Railway Station in Czech and Polish (Credit: Vojtech Dockal)

Unfinished Fights – Free For All
The complex nature of numerous uprisings, civil wars, and territorial struggles in postwar Eastern Europe is extremely difficult to understand. A single nation could be involved in fighting on multiple fronts. Take for instance Poland, which in 1919 was fighting the Polish-Lithuanian War, Polish-Soviet War, Polish-Ukrainian War, and skirmishes with remnants of the German Army. Every one of those opposing forces was a sworn enemy of the Poles. Yet it is another conflict in 1919 that stands out for its quixotic nature.

The Poles, Czechs, and Slovaks should have been brothers in arms. They did not have any recent history of conflict with one another. All three had been subsumed under empires that thwarted their independence. The Poles by the Germans, Russians and Austrians, the Czechs by the Austrians, and the Slovaks by the Hungarians. Despite their shared sense of nationalist aspirations, they would come into conflict with one another as Poland and Czechoslovakia battled for Teschen Silesia (Cieszyn Silesia), a small region in northwestern Slovakia that each side coveted for very different reasons.

Teschen Silesia was a point of contention in the scramble for territory after World War I ended. The region had been formerly administered by Austria-Hungary with Teschen (Polish: Cieszyn/Czech: Tesin) as its largest city. The city was host to the empire’s military headquarters which played an outsized role in Austria-Hungary’s defeat. Conrad von Hotzendorf, Chief of the General Staff of the Austro-Hungarian Military, managed the war from Teschen. The upshot was that Hotzendorf’s military blunders destroyed much of Austria-Hungary’s army. This eventually brought about the empire’s dissolution. That collapse meant Teschen was up for grabs. Both Poland and Czechoslovakia – reborn as independent nations – coveted Teschen and the territory around it. Poland thought it should have the area because of demographics. Conversely, Czechoslovakia believed it was critical to the nation’s survival. 

Divided up – Cieszyn (left), Cesky Tesin (right) and the Olza River in recent times
(Credit: Darwinek)

Strength In Numbers – Demographics & Economics
While Teschen Silesia had been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire prior to World War I, it had deeper roots as the Duchy of Teschen, which had been Lands of the Bohemian Crown. This gave the Czechs a foothold based upon history, but during the postwar period, demography was just as important as history. During the 19^th century, greater numbers of Poles moved into the area. By 1919, the situation on the ground favored Poland. Ethnic Poles made up a majority of the inhabitants in three of Teschen Silesia’s four districts. Demographics were a powerful force in the reconstituted Polish state. Poland needed as many Poles as possible. In other areas of the nation such as its southeastern region, Poles were outnumbered by Ukrainians. There were also large numbers of ethnic Germans, Lithuanians, and Belarusians scattered across different areas of Poland. Placing Teschen in Poland would provide a small, but much needed boost of ethnic Poles. 

The Czechs feared the demographic issue due to the precedent it would set. If a majority Polish area in historical Czech lands were to join Poland, what would keep the majority ethnic German areas in the Sudetenland from joining Germany. Czechoslovakia was much smaller than either Poland or Germany. It could not afford for the minorities within its borders to demand self-determination. The country’s survival would be at stake. Czechoslovakia needed more territory not less.

For both Czechoslovakia and Poland, Teschen Silesia was also a question of economics. Including the region in either would leave one nation richer, and the other poorer. Silesia was home to some of the largest deposits of coal in Europe. Coal was a vital energy resource. It played much the same role that oil does today. Coal fueled industrialization, which in turn spurred economic development. If Czechoslovakia and Poland were going to survive, they needed strong economies. Neither nation’s economic prospects were optimal. The Karvina coal fields in Teschen Silesia could help mitigate that problem. This was the region’s economic crown jewel and one that neither side would give up without a fight.

Another issue was the Kosice-Bohumin railway, an important connection between the Czech lands and Slovakia. Bohumin was a crucial international transport and communication hub. The largest cargo railway station in east-central Europe was located there. If Teschen went to Poland, Bohumin would be on its fringes. Whereas for Czechoslovakia, it would offer an efficient connection to the Slovak hinterland. In sum, Czechoslovakia believed its viability as an independent nation was threatened without Teschen. That was less true for Poland, but Teschen was still a territory they coveted. A negotiated settlement between the two countries should have been possible.

Boots on the ground – Czechoslovak legionaries leaving for Slovakia for Cieszyn Silesia

Men At Arms – The March To War
The two sides came to a provisional agreement on the territory on November 5, 1918, but this was done by local authorities and favored Poland. Czechoslovakia’s government did not recognize this agreement. The Poles followed up by organizing an election that would send representatives from Teschen to the Sejm, Poland’s parliament. relations between the two sides were at the breaking point. The Czechs reacted by sending in troops. This caught the Poles off guard. They were busy fighting larger wars. One against the Ukrainians and another against the Soviets. The Poles could not afford to spare troops to defend the region. The Czechs took advantage of the situation. The stage was set for the Czechs to impose their will by military force. All that stood in the way were weaker Polish forces. What happened next would poison relations between Czechoslovakia and Poland for a generation.

Click here for: A Terrible Precedent – Taking Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #3)

Coming Into Conflict -The Road To Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #1)

Sometimes I think the world is going all to hell. That humanity has plunged into an abyss from which there is no escape. And while the worst is yet to come, much of it is already here. There is the worst conventional war in Europe since 1945 due to Russia’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine which shows no sign of ending anytime soon. There is the Israel-Hamas War which has the Middle East teetering on the brink of a region wide conflict. Relations between the United States and China are the worst since their reestablishment in 1972. The chance of a war between the two superpowers over Taiwan continues to grow. Abraham Lincoln said during the American Civil War that “If there is a worse place than hell, then I am in it.” The world is not quite there yet but is getting closer by the day. Many remain cautiously optimistic that we can be brought back from the brink of our own self-destruction. That remains to be seen.

A period of global instability the likes of which has not been seen in almost eighty years threatens to upend the established global order. The rules which have defined international relations since the end of World War II are facing an unprecedented number of major threats. The world could get caught up in a cascading series of crises that devolve into chaos. Once chaos starts, there is no telling where it will end. All the current geopolitical problems could expand into something much worse. Drawing more countries into a cauldron of chaos. All this makes me believe that the world is going all to hell. That is until I look back into history and see that the world has survived much worse. 

      On the brink – Teschen in 1918 (Credit: National Library of Poland)

Grave Danger – Bordering On Anarchy
When conversation turns to the worst periods in modern history, the First and Second World Wars dominate the discussion. They are the most striking examples of horrific history in relatively recent times. The focus on World Wars I and II leaves little room for discussion of other periods that were chaotic and dangerous. Just the other day, I came across a conflict that was symptomatic of a period when the world was suffering through a prolonged period of chaos. This made me realize that the current challenges facing us today could be much worse. It also made me realize that anarchy can quickly consume a once civilized world. The conflict I came across does not even merit a footnote in most history books. The Polish-Czechoslovak War (Seven-Day War) took place in January 1919. I doubt many people other than Poles, Czechs, and Slovaks have even heard of the war. I am sure that fewer of them have heard of it than other troubling events in their nation’s tumultuous 20^th century history.

I first came across the Polish-Czechoslovak War while reading Paris 1919 by Margaret McMillan. That book delves deeply into the messy aftermath of the First World War which resulted in a series of treaties that failed to bring lasting peace to Europe and the Middle East. When I came across the conflict between Poland and Czechoslovakia, I was surprised to find the two nations at odds with one another. They tragically became caught up in the free for all that accompanied disputed territories across Eastern Europe. The Polish-Czechoslovak war was small in scale and short in duration. Yet it would poison relations between two nations in dire need of one another after Hitler rose to power.

    Off to another war – Czechoslovak legionaries from France in Teschen

Grave Danger – Fighting For Supremacy
The inability of smaller states in Eastern Europe to ally in the face of grave danger had tragic consequences. The same kind of situation exists today with the Ukraine-Russia War. Smaller European Union member states such as Hungary and Slovakia are led by governments that either actively or passively support the Kremlin. Their recalcitrance in confronting the existential threat of Russian neo-imperialism could have serious consequences for not only Ukraine, but Hungary, Slovakia, and Europe as a whole. Eastern Europe is at an inflection point. It could either succumb to authoritarianism or lock in the democratic gains the region has made since the Iron Curtain fell. While Eastern Europe is in a dangerous situation today, this pales in comparison to the period that followed the First World War. Unfortunately, the region came out of that period divided and weakened. Efforts to create stability only served to increase it.

There are some nations in Eastern Europe which I automatically pair up in my mind as prone to cross-border conflicts. I base these upon their histories. Among them are Poland and Ukraine, Russia and any European nation with which it shares a border, Serbia and Croatia or Bosnia, Croatia and Bosnia, Hungary and Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey, Greece and Turkey. The list is long and riddled with wars, fractious relations, and border disputes. Two nations which I would not pair up in this manner are Poland and Czechoslovakia (Czech Republic and Slovakia). I always think of these two countries as the good guys of the period from 1918 – 1989. They suffered grave injustices due to communism, fascism, and nationalism. Yet it was the latter that caused trouble between Poland and Czechoslovakia.

Worth fighting for – Postcard of Teschen prior to World War I (Credit: Eduard Feitzinger)

Border Control – Dangerous Disputes
Eastern Europe was filled with numerous ethnic groups of various sizes. This was the legacy of large, sprawling empires that ruled over vast swaths of the region. Trying to decide which ethnic groups ended up in which newly formed nation in 1919 was a process fraught with difficulties. These decisions were not just made by the treaty negotiators back in Paris. Boots on the ground mattered just as much. In some cases, they mattered more. Economic interests, infrastructure, and natural resources further exacerbated disagreements over where to set borders. This all too often pointed the way to armed conflict. Self-interest over collective interest has always been a source of tension in inter-state relations. This was never truer than in post-World War I Eastern Europe with every nation focused on looking out for itself. With Poland reborn as an independent nation and Czechoslovakia a newly formed one, both were struggling to figure out how they would survive in the postwar world. This led them into armed conflict. In a remote corner of northwestern Slovakia, they fought for control of Teschen Silesia.   

Click here for: Opportunity Costs – Trying To Take Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #2)

Cover Story – The Wrong Connection In Bojnice (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #65)

Everything is connected. That phrase sounds like something out of a Zen guru phrase book. Sage advice used to induce a sense of belonging among those wearing loin cloths in the 21^st century. The kind of wisdom one associates with naturist communes or corporate retreats. In one sense, the phrase is absurdist speak for shysters, but in the correct context it can be deeply meaningful. Words that remind us to look around and take notice of the world. Stay alert and profound realizations become possible.

I have come to believe everything is connected in one’s life. We live within a web where every thread leads back to ones spun long ago. Our lives follow patterns that become more apparent with age and experience. A combination of curiosity and self-awareness has led me to notice certain patterns in my life that have led me to realize that I unwittingly retrace parts of my past. This comes from somewhere deep in the subconscious and is based more upon intuition than instinct. An unexplainable feeling that leads me to a specific place for one reason only to discover that I was there for another.   

     Cover story – Bojnice Castle on the Bradt Guide to Slovakia

Bojnice Castle – Fantasy Without Fiction
I am always torn before I visit a place for the first time in Eastern Europe. How much should I read and research beforehand to make my visit worthwhile? Should I just show up without any preconceived notions and be prepared for whatever experience serendipity has in store for me. Or should I plumb the depths of available literature to enhance my visit? Sometimes I read too much about a place in advance, other times I read too little. My preparedness, or lack thereof, is inconsistent. In the case of Bojince, a small city in northeastern Slovakia, I did not read much before visiting it. A specific photo communicated everything I needed to know or at least that was what I thought. It only took a cover photo on the Bradt Guide to Slovakia to seduce me. The seduction came from the elegance, grandeur, and symmetry of the castle.

The cover photo showed the upper half of Bojince Castle with three spires reaching into the sky, tile covered rooftops, powerful buttresses, and crenellations. This was everything a castle was supposed to be. The intertwining of imagination and reality, fantasy without fiction. The castle is a stunning amalgamation of Romanesque, Gothic, and Renaissance architecture. It is rightfully exalted as one of Slovakia’s finest. Slovakia is renowned for its magnificent castles and Bojnice can compete with the best of them. The moment I first saw the photo of Bojnice Castle two things came to mind. One, I am going to buy this guidebook. Two, I am going to make a dedicated trip to the castle. The more I looked at the photo, the more I felt like it was taunting me. This came from the fact that I had yet to visit Bojnice Castle. This exposed what I considered a gap in my travels to Slovakia. Bojnice was the most immaculate example of a castle missing from my collection.

          Supermodel – As seen inside Bojnice Castle

Vanity Affair – A Manic Destiny
Just one look at the cover photo of the guidebook made me realize why Bojnice Castle was so famous. It was in excellent condition with soaring towers. Bojnice was one of those works of architecture that created its own reality. It has a personality and presence all its own. I could go to every other castle in Slovakia, but if I missed Bojnice none of those other ones would matter. I built Bojnice up in mind to such an exalted status that visiting it became a foreground conclusion. The castle imposes itself on the viewer’s imagination. Bojnice seemed to be saying to me, “you should have put me first on your list of places to visit in Slovakia, rather than waiting until your sixth visit to find time for me.” I had ignored the architectural supermodel of Slovakia at my peril. I felt foolish and guilty. This was a problem I set out to rectify.

On a multi-day journey by car to historic sites in Slovakia, I specifically selected the northwestern portion of the country. It was Bojince or bust. Speeding through eastern Hungary and central Slovakia as fast as I could, I made it to Bojnice by mid-afternoon on the journey’s first day. I found the castle in the same sparkling condition as what I had first seen in that cover photo. The castle was vast and even a couple of hours could not do it justice. Still, what mattered was that I had made it there. In the ridiculous world of my own personal travel mania, I felt self-satisfied. Let no one say that I ever failed to visit Bojnice Castle. The obvious retort is that other than me, who would have known or cared.

Once the visit to Bojnice Castle was made, I headed to my accommodation for a well-deserved rest. It was still daylight and there was plenty of time to explore the town. I chose not to. At that time, I did not realize that my infatuation with Bojnice Castle had caused me to miss an experience which would have been much more personally meaningful to me. A deep connection was lurking if only I had looked a little further than a guidebook photo. One that would have kept me searching the streets of Bojnice for a ghost from my distant past.

Vanity affair – Bojnice Castle as seen from the town (Credit: Lady Rowena)

Wrongfooted – Missing Out On Mecir
While doing some post-visit reading about Bojnice, I learned that it was the hometown of Miloslav Mecir. The name may not be well-known, but Mecir will always be a legend in my mind. A man whose eccentricities I found enthralling. Mecir was one of the best men’s tennis players of the 1980’s, Strange, sly, and largely silent, Mecir displayed very little emotion, but when he stepped on the court his racquet did the talking. Some of the world’ greatest players fell beneath the spells Mecir cast upon them. He wrongfooted his way to the finals of the U.S. and Australian Opens.

No one quite knew what to make of Mecir. Before they could, he was derailed by chronic back problems. Mecir vanished, much like he had appeared, out of nowhere. I stumbled in and out of Bojnice before realizing its connection to Mecir. I made the wrong connection at its castle, one based upon instinct rather than intuition. Vanity got the better of me and I ended up worse off because of it. Mecir deserved better and so did I.

The Power of Hope – Isles of Scilly: At A Distance (Cornwall Chronicles #27)

The future does not exist without hope. Hope is what keeps us going. It is invaluable to the point of priceless. Give a person hope and they have a chance. Hope opens the heart and mind to future possibilities. Anyone reading this should ask themselves what they hope to accomplish. The answer will act as a source of motivation.

           A Powerful Desire – Isles of Scilly

Sound Advice – The Need To Go
I do not have much useful advice for people on how to live their lives. Like most extremely independent people I despise being told what to do. The upshot is that I feel awkward telling others what to do because I imagine that they might react the same stubborn way that I do. This involves giving a perfunctory nod and pretending to listen while doing the exact opposite. The strategy is not without its flaws. A failure to listen often results in bad decisions. Upon reflection, I realize that sound advice was given to me. Unfortunately, I thought that I knew better. This can lead to problems while traveling since I can become too fixated on a self-imposed itinerary.

There are few things that I find worse than setting out on a journey with a goal in mind and failing to achieve it. The fear of failure stalks my every step. Avoiding it keeps me going past the point of common sense. And yet, there is no feeling quite like the pursuit of a long sought after place. As my good friend Brian Walton once said to me with his typically English pragmatism, “the gettington is always better than the havington.” This is of course a twist on “the journey is more important than the destination.” With that in mind, I do have one piece of advice worth giving to travelers or anyone else who might be interested. Always have something to look forward to. In the context of travel this means having a future trip in mind. The future belongs to those who believe in it.

On the edge – Isles of Scilly (circled) and Great Britain (Credit: Smurrayinchester)

Staying Alive – Many Happy Returns
Even before returning from a trip overseas, I begin planning my next journey. To do otherwise, is to invite depression. It is imperative to my mental well-being that I figure out my next port of call. Since an overwhelming majority of my trips abroad are to Eastern Europe, I begin planning a visit to those places I have yet to reach even though I have spent years thinking about them. Several have been coming to mind lately. Places that have lodged themselves in my semi-consciousness waiting for me to grab hold of a delayed destiny.
These places are the lifelines that will pull me across the Atlantic and deep into continental Europe. Among them are Kaunas, Lithuania, Chernivtsi, Ukraine, painted monasteries of the Bukovina region in Romania, Wroclaw and Cieszyn in Poland. I am not surprised that these places have been living somewhere deep inside of me. I have developed sublime affinities for each of them. It is not so much that I want to visit them, as that I need to visit them. They are the equivalent of oxygen; I need them to stay alive.

There is one recent addition to my current crop of future destinations that is an outlier. A place about as far from Eastern Europe as I could get and still be in Europe. My love of the remote, my fetish for the obscure, manifested itself in a barely controlled urge to visit the Isles of Scilly. The Isles are the southernmost place in Great Britain, the most isolated and least populated part of Cornwall. They consist of 145 islands of which a mere five are inhabited by a grand total of 2,271 people. The total land area of the Isles of Scilly is only a bit larger than the city of London. The Isles are little more than an afterthought if anyone thinks of them at all. I imagine their mention is reserved for geography classes filled with British schoolchildren bored out of their minds. Or perhaps they come up in conversation among trivia buffs that like to impress no one other than themselves by reciting peculiar facts aloud.

The Isles of Scilly are not easy to access and can be prohibitively expensive to visit. A vacation on the Mediterranean is cheaper for a Brit than a trip to the Isles. Despite their remoteness, the Isles of Scilly are heavily reliant on tourism. The beaches are pristine and blissfully isolated from the massive crush of tourists on other areas of the coastline in southern Britain. The Isles’ other economic engine is more surprising. They are something of a garden spot. The Isles of Scilly experience the jet stream on steroids. In the summer, the Isles are cooler than the rest of Britain and in the winter they are warmer. The mild climate makes for optimal conditions for growing flowers. It also makes for the kind of eccentric inspiration for a journey that I find intensely seductive.

Landing pads – Isles of Scilly from above (Credit: Mike Knell)

Imaginary Plans – A Powerful Desire
Seeing really was believing, even if what I saw was a mirage or a figment of an overactive imagination. While visiting Cornwall I spent a day on the Land’s End Coaster, an open-topped bus which covers the Penwith Peninsula, an astonishingly beautiful area known for its rugged stretches of coastline. Not long after leaving Penzance, the Coaster began to wind its way between hedgerows and towards the Atlantic Ocean. In my guidebook, I noticed the Isles of Scilly, which are located 45 miles southwest of the Peninsula. I began looking out over the ocean trying to find them.

I asked a fellow passenger for help. He pointed at an indistinct area of sky, ocean, and cloud cover in the distance. There were the Isles of Scilly or so I wanted to believe. That moment may or may not have been love at first sight. I am not quite sure if I saw the Isles or not. Just the idea of them was enough to fire my imagination. I felt a longing to see them, to stand on them, to be with them. I kept looking, hoping that something more could be seen. A powerful desire came over me. The Isles of Scilly might not have been mine on that day, but I comforted myself with the hope that one day they would be mine.

Years of Attrition – Running In Place: 1915/16 & 2023/? (Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine #359b)

It is 1915 all over again. That date could just as easily be changed to 1916. Those two years are the most anonymous in the history of World War I. It is much easier to remember the year in which the war started. I cannot count how many times I have read about the beautiful European summer of 1914 which was abruptly interrupted by the Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo. This was then followed by the summer long march to war. 1917 is another year from the war that has gotten plenty of recognition due to the Russian Revolution. So has 1918. We were taught in school that the armistice was signed “at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month.” That numerical symmetry made November 11, 1918, easy to remember. As for 1915 and 1916, they act as outliers of wartime anonymity. Bleak periods marked by muddy trenches, shellshock, and senseless loss of life.

The only people likely to recall what happened in 1915 and 1916 are historians or military history buffs. For them, those years included the Battles of the Somme and Verdun on the Western Front and the Brusilov Offensive on the Eastern Front. These battles, like the campaigns which accompanied them, failed to bring about a decisive result. While one side or the other may have gained a tactical or even a strategic victory, it did little to alter the overall trajectory of the war. The best that can be said about such battles and campaigns is that they eroded the defender’s capabilities. Unfortunately, they eroded the aggressor’s capabilities even more. This was part of a long, hard slog of death and destruction that would not end for a couple of more years.

    No man’s land – Scene from the Battle of Bakhmut (Credit: Mil.gov.ua)

Wasted Years – The War Rages On
1915 and 1916 are the wasted years of World War I. Periods when the war stagnated, rather than stopped. This stalemate only served to prolong the war. There are parallels with the Ukraine-Russia War. 2023 was a year when tens of thousands of soldiers on both sides lost their lives in offensive operations that gained very little ground. The war is now at a stalemate with neither side strong enough to carry out a successful offensive.  2023 was 1915, 2024 could be 1916. The beginning of the war has become distant, the future looks limitless.

There is little doubt that in the near-term Ukraine and Russia will get weaker in a lengthening war. There will be strains felt not only on the battlefield, but throughout their respective societies. The next year will serve to further increase hardship on both combatant nations. The situation is bleak enough that it can make even those most fervently pro-Ukraine pause and wonder if the current situation might be as good as it will get for them.

Much the same could be said for the Russians, who while having an advantage in men and material, continue to display an inability to conduct successful offensive operations. The stalemate raises the same question that confronted the Great Powers during World War I. When is a less than ideal peace preferable to the gamble of future military operations which might erode one side or the other’s ability to sustain the war. The corollary is why do both sides insist on further damaging their future for minimal gains at best? Parallels with World War I are useful in understanding why the two sides keep fighting despite the war looking increasingly unwinnable. They are in the same position the Great Powers were in during World War I.

Bombed out – Residential building in Avdiivka, Ukraine (Credit: National Police of Ukraine)

Fighting On – Going In For The Kill
A parallel can be drawn between Ukraine in 2023 and France during the First World War. The same can be done for Russia and the German Empire. Ukraine, like France, suffered an invasion. This caused both to lose a large swath of economically productive territory. It also left large numbers of their civilians in the hands of aggressors. In trying to expel the invaders, both have incurred frightening levels of casualties. No politician would dare to call for a ceasefire after such sacrifices even if it could be in the national interest. It would lock in the aggressor’s gains. This means that Ukraine, just like France, will continue to fight. The alternative looks worse.

At the same time, the longer Ukraine fights the more men and material they will lose. Unlike Russia, Ukraine does not have a large pool of conscripts or volunteers to draw from. Each one they lose is much harder to replace. Continuing to fight the war will only exacerbate this problem. Ukraine’s leadership knows this, but just like the French they must try to liberate their territory, no matter the cost. Unlike the French, Ukraine does not have powerful allied armies fighting shoulder to shoulder with them.

As for Russia, the war has badly weakened their military and geopolitical standing, but many believe that Russia has weathered the worst of the war. The economy has been reconfigured to support the military. Russia is much less reliant on allies than the Ukrainians. Plus, Russia’s allies such as Iran and North Korea are more than glad to provide them with armaments for payment in cash or natural resources. Public support for the war in Russia is still lukewarm, but the Putin regime ensures that resistance is futile. For the first time since the war started, the Kremlin looks like it has the upper hand. Russia is in a somewhat similar position to the German Empire during World War I, which also had powerful western nations allied against it.

Open grave – Kaiser Wilhelm II inspects a trench during the German Spring Offensive in 1918

All or Nothing = Risk Management
In the spring of 1918, the Germans were on the cusp of victory. They had won the war on the Eastern Front. Their Spring Offensive in France and Belgium made remarkable gains until it stalled out. That would be the German’s last gasp. The strains of fighting the war almost totally alone on the Western Front finally broke the German Army. Political collapse soon followed. The Germans would have been much better off to have negotiated a settlement when they were in a position of strength. By continuing to fight, they were their own worst enemy. An all or nothing strategy resulted in defeat.

Russia shows no signs of negotiating either. Putin believes the west is tiring of the war and that support for Ukraine is waning. It might also be just as true that Russians are tired of the war and the astronomical number of casualties their forces are suffering. Continuing to fight and lose thousands of men each week is a risk Putin is willing to take. Whether or not the soldiers doing the fighting will continue to risk – and mostly lose – their lives could be a deciding factor. Right now, it is 1915 in the Ukraine-Russia War, but as World War I showed the situation can change radically.

Exercises In Self-Defeatism – A World War I Parallel (Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine #359a)

I have been fascinated with the First World War for as long as I can remember. Part of that fascination comes from trying to imagine what it must have been like as the Great Powers committed themselves to perpetual disaster. One of the questions that often arises in my mind while reading about the war is why both sides failed to find some sort of compromise before 1918. As the years passed. it was obvious that the war was doing irreparable damage to all involved. The solution was to throw millions of men into battle with the vain hope that this would somehow alter the military situation. It only served to further solidify the stasis along the front lines. The war became a contest of wills to see which side could hold out the longest. The ramifications were immense.

Holding out – Ruins of Ypres Belgium in 1919 (Credit: William Lester King)2

Holding Out – The Great Power Struggle
During World War I the Great Powers were caught in a trap of its own making. France was bleeding itself to death. Losing an entire generation on the western front. By war’s end France would be demographically devastated. The same could be said to a lesser extent for the British and German Empires. Both had other reasons to be concerned beyond demographics. For the British, financing the war was pushing the empire towards bankruptcy. The German Empire was being starved of men and material. An even greater starvation led to a German civilian population that was becoming increasingly unruly. The Russian Empire had plenty of men, but the war put strains on the economy and society that eventually led to an internal implosion. The Austro-Hungarian Empire was barely able to hold on after the first five months of the war. From 1915 onward, its military became ever more combat ineffective. The Ottoman Empire was close to collapse throughout the war. A situation it had suffered from before the fighting began. With each passing year of the war, Ottoman authority over their subjects grew more tenuous.

Each of the Great Powers had two things in common during the war. The first was that it continually eroded their power. The second was that they continued to fight the war even though it was no longer in their best interest. None of the Great Powers would ever be the same. As a matter of fact, four of the empires would no longer exist by the end of 1918. The British Empire did survive, but the war was the beginning of its end. While the empire continued, it was nowhere near as powerful as it had been at the start of 1914. All of Europe’s Great Powers had taken part in an exercise of self-destruction during World War I. The inability to pivot from stalemate to ceasefire to negotiated peace sealed their fates. While each had good reasons for continuing the war, the end results were always the same, self-defeating disasters.

      A bleak prospect – Damaged building in Avdiivka, Ukraine

Static Situation – Stuck In The Muck
Stalemates in war have vast and unpredictable consequences. This can seem counterintuitive since a stalemate means that the frontlines are static. The gains made from attacks are incremental at best. Stalemates give the illusion that nothing is happening. There is combat going on and it is going nowhere. Stalemates have a way of lulling those watching from afar into a false sense of security. Observers begin to believe that nothing can break a stalemate. This is the situation that now exists in the Ukraine-Russia War. Early in 2023, the Russians tried to go on the offensive. This only exposed how bogged down they had become in eastern and southern Ukraine. The Kremlin’s forty-eight-hour war had transformed into a months-long quagmire that could continue for years. At that point no one was calling the war a stalemate, at least not on the Ukrainian side.

Ukraine and its western allies had high hopes that the Ukrainian’s planned spring counteroffensive would be able to break through the Russian lines, like they had during the fall of 2022 in Kharkiv Province. Unfortunately, the Ukrainian counteroffensive started later than planned. It soon became bogged down due to a combination of factors that included stout Russian defenses, lack of weaponry, soldiers with little to no combat experience or enough training to conduct combined arms warfare, and questionable strategy. When Ukraine’s top military commander, Valery Zaluzhny, penned an article in The Economist at the beginning of November admitting that the war had become a stalemate, there was no denying a situation that had become glaringly obvious.

The frontlines are static, combat is a muddy slog, and both sides are trying to figure out how to use the current situation to their advantage. The defense has the advantage while the aggressor incurs thousands of casualties with very little to show for it. Comparisons between the Ukraine-Russia War and World War I are now appropriate. Years of unending warfare with nominal gains and high casualty rates could become the norm. And just like World War I, both sides fight on even though arguments could be made for both sides that it would be better to negotiate peace. That almost certainly will not happen anytime soon. From Ukraine’s perspective that would be a mistake though this could change as the war grinds on.

    An all-too-common scene – Bakhmut under fire (Credit: Dpsu.gov.ua)

Indecisive Results – The Static Front
The current stalemate is redefining the war. Since the war began on February 24, 2022, specific areas of the fighting have been usually defined as the eastern front, southern front, and behind the lines (aerial and drone attacks on both Ukrainian and Russian targets), Now there is only the static front. Several thousand kilometers of lines with stout defensive works including tank traps, mines, ditches, and any type of obstruction that can slow the aggressor down long enough for the defense to bring massive amounts of firepower against them. Neither side enjoys air superiority. Both lack the capabilities to break through. The war has become one of attrition that does not promise decisive results in either the near or medium term. This is as close to World War I as any war has gotten in Europe since that struggle. The parallels between the Ukraine-War and World War I are not perfect, but they are similar enough to have eerie echoes of a struggle that ultimately proved self-defeating.

Click here for: Years of Attrition – Running In Place: 1915/16 & 2023/? (Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine #359b)

False Narrative – Ivan The Invisible & McEnroe The Martyr (For Love of the Game #6)

The traditional narrative of the 1984 French Open Final between Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe is that the latter blew the match. McEnroe had Lendl down for the count numerous times, only to let him get up off the mat to win an improbable victory. The match was McEnroe’s for the taking. If only he had not lost his temper at a cameraman in the third game of the second set, McEnroe would have won the French Open. The narrative portrays Lendl as a bystander. A human backboard who keeps returning shots until McEnroe self-destructs. In this telling, the better player did not win. McEnroe’s demons were what defeated him, not Ivan Lendl. This narrative is widespread and false.

Unforgettable triumph – Ivan Lendl receives the 1984 French Open trophy

Twisting The Truth – Revenge of the Losers

The losers write history too, and sometimes they get control of the main narrative. I know this all too well since I grew up in the American South where the Civil War is still being fought in the minds of many. The pages of Civil War histories are replete with narratives that state the Confederacy never really lost the war. This is a strange and lamentable phenomenon that began not long after the war ended. It still holds many in its grip. Another example is the narrative surrounding the Treaty of Versailles. The Germans have always portrayed the terms of Versailles as too harsh. This conveniently ignores the harsher terms they imposed upon Russia with the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk the previous year. Losing can lead to a powerful psychosis, one where the defeated work much harder than the victors to reconfigure the narrative in a way they find more palatable. This has happened with the 1984 French Open final where John McEnroe is the tortured genius and Ivan Lendl is mostly anonymous.

The famous Prussia strategist, Carl Von Clausewitz said that war is politics by other means. By the same logic, sports can be war by other means. A fine example is the rivalry between Lendl and McEnroe. The two men despised each other. Their games, personalities, and attitudes were complete opposites. They fought highly personalized struggles on the tennis court that had the same kind of passion and tragedy found on the battlefield. Their most famous battle was at the 1984 French Open, a day that lives in glory for Lendl and infamy for McEnroe.

Because he appeared to grasp defeat from the jaws of victory, McEnroe’s self-destruction makes for a compelling narrative. The fact that McEnroe has spoken in anguish about his loss that day on several occasions both in print and on television has allowed him to control the narrative. Lendl, on the other hand, treats his comeback victory as an important event, but not his most career-defining one. That would come later with his victory over McEnroe in the 1985 U.S. Open Final, after which his career soared to its greatest heights.

Almost great – John McEnroe in the 1984 French Open Final

On The Rise – Grit & Guile
Befitting the polarizing nature of the Lendl-McEnroe rivalry, the 1984 French final came down to whether Lendl’s fighting qualities and shifting strategy won the match or McEnroe’s self-destructive qualities doomed him. The accepted narrative is a McEnroe implosion. The more provocative and intriguing of these dueling narratives is that Lendl turned the tide and found a way to win the match through a combination of grit and guile. That is just what he did. By the third set Lendl had managed to work his way back into the match. McEnroe’s tempestuous behavior was a reaction to this. Though ahead two sets to none, McEnroe knew he needed to put Lendl away while he had the chance. The fact that Lendl kept coming back only increased the pressure. The most famous example of McEnroe’s self-destruction was when he screamed into a cameraman’s earpiece at 1-1 and up 0 – 30 on Lendl’s serve. He went on to lose the game. This moment was only one of many that turned the match’s tide.  

An even more crucial moment of the match occurred in the fourth set. McEnroe was up a break of serve at 4 – 3. He had a game point for 5 – 3 and was only five points away from the title. McEnroe got his first serve in, but Lendl forced an error.  The Czech would win four of the last five points of the game by forcing errors or hitting winners with his forehand. It was not like McEnroe was dumping balls in the bottom of the net. Lendl elevated his play at a key moment. This happened multiple times during the match.

The narrative that tends to focus on McEnroe’s self-destruction emphasizes that he missed a lot of first serves in the final three sets. Those misses were caused as much by Lendl’s heavy returns as McEnroe’s faltering play. When McEnroe managed to get into the net, he was confronted by Lendl’s laser-like passing shots or penetrating lobs which forced McEnroe to back away from the net by several inches. In a match decided by a razor thin margin, the doubt sown by Lendl’s lobs was crucial. They made McEnroe much less decisive at the net. Lendl broke McEnroe’s serve to win the fourth set 7 – 5 with a brilliant crosscourt forehand lob. 

Comeback complete – Ivan Lendl wins the 1984 French Open

Power & Glory – The Comeback
McEnroe’s last best chance came at 3 – 3 in the fifth set when he was up 15 – 40 on Lendl’s serve. This time McEnroe did commit two unforced errors during rallies, but it is interesting to note that Lendl’s final shots in both rallies were forehands. With the game back at deuce, Lendl then unleashed two forehand winners. McEnroe would barely hold on until he lost his serve and the match in the twelfth game of the fifth set. The cumulative weight of Lendl’s powerful groundstrokes and tactical adjustments proved decisive. In the final set, Lendl lost only six points on his serve. McEnroe lost fifteen. It is a miracle that McEnroe held on for as long as he did. Reading retrospective accounts of the match, the focus is always on McEnroe’s failure to finish. While he has himself to blame in some cases, in many more it is Lendl’s consistently high level of play that decided the match. This is not the popular narrative for one of the greatest comebacks in tennis history, but it is a factual one.

Czech Mated By An American Express – Lendl & McEnroe Act One In Paris (For Love of the Game #5)

I never had an interest in theater and only played bit parts in a few forgettable productions in elementary school. There is enough drama in the world without having to act it out in fictional form. In my opinion, the greatest dramas are not found in the cinema or on the stage. They can be found in sporting arenas like Court Centrale at Roland Garros in Paris. An excellent example of this is the 1984 French Open final between Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe that took place at Stade Roland Garros. On June 10, 1984, Court Centrale burned bright beneath a fiery sun. Half a world away, my brother and I sat transfixed by four hours and four minutes of high drama. The men’s final was a spectacle from which we could not avert our eyes. A diabolical drama that reverberated across six time zones, thousands of kilometers, and an entire ocean. A coming-of-age tale so fraught with tragedy that to this very day one of its participants says he gets sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

Coming apart – John McEnroe during the 1984 French Open final

Masterful McEnroe – The Art Of Tennis
John McEnroe was close, closer than he might have imagined before the match began at 3:26 p.m. Playing on his worst surface, in a tournament where he had never made it past the quarterfinals, McEnroe found himself up two sets to love after just an hour and five minutes. His lead was the product of sensational tennis, the likes of which had never been seen from an attacking player at the French Open. In McEnroe’s first ten service games of the match, he surrendered a total of ten points. What many thought would be a hard-fought contest of contrasting styles was turning into a romp. By the time McEnroe took the second set, the match was a mere hour and five minutes old. This was a level of sublime dominance that even by his lofty standards was fantastic.

The combative American was at the height of his powers. His serve was scorching the lines. When Lendl served, McEnroe counterattacked with lethal precision. A decisive approach would be followed by a quick put away or soft as a feather drop volley. At the net, McEnroe was blowing bubbles with his racket and creating angles that redefined geometry. This was tennis as art.  Lendl had not been forewarned. The two top players in the world had already met five times in 1984. Lendl managed to win a single set. In the weeks leading up to the French Open, they had played twice on clay. Games, sets and matches, McEnroe. In one of those matches, the final at WCT Forest Hills, Lendl had beaten Jimmy Connors 6-0, 6-0 in semifinals. It was the first time Connors had ever been double bageled. The next day, Lendl could only win six games and lost twice that amount against McEnroe. Lendl was not the only one suffering at the hands of McEnroe. By the time they played in Paris, McEnroe had won all 39 of his matches in 1984. A fortieth victory looked less than an hour away.

Unfriendly rivalry – Ivan Lendl & John McEnroe

Unrealized Potential – On The Edge of Defeat
Ivan Lendl was far, farther away then he could have ever imagined. Playing on his best surface, in a tournament he had nearly won in 1981 against the greatest clay court player up to that point in history, Lendl was at a loss on how to combat McEnroe’s brilliance. That this was happening on clay made it both frustrating and perplexing. Lendl was being dominated in a way he had never experienced on clay. With an opportunity to win his first singles title at a Grand Slam tournament after losing his first four major singles finals, Lendl was getting routed. He had the potential to be the greatest men’s tennis player from Eastern Europe in history and one of the greatest of all time, if only he could win a Slam. Lendl had gained a reputation as a choker on tennis’ biggest stages.

It was said that Lendl could win any tournament except the four majors (French Open, Wimbledon, U.S. Open, and Australian Open) that mattered most. He had won 39 titles and zero majors. Lendl had played second fiddle to Borg three years earlier on the same court at Roland Garros. The past two years he had suffered the same indignity at the hands of Jimmy Connors in the U.S. Open. And only six months before, Mats Wilander had decisively defeated Lendl in the Australian Open final. Now he was being destroyed in another final, this time by McEnroe. In Lendl’s defense, no one could have beaten McEnroe during the first two sets. Nevertheless, Lendl was still the best equipped to fend off McEnroe’s advance. During his first years on tour, Lendl’s power was too much for McEnroe to handle. After losing his first two matches to McEnroe, Lendl went on a run of seven consecutive wins. That run started with a straight set victory during the quarterfinals at Roland Garros. Coming into the 1984 French Open Final, Lendl had lost only one set in six matches. Now he had lost twice that many in a little over an hour.  

Finding his way – Ivan Lendl at the French Open

“Shut up” – A Moment of Rage
By the beginning of the third set it looked like Lendl would be reduced to saving face. It was going to take an incredible turn of events for the match to turn in his favor. Lendl was not choking, but he was also not playing well.  He was trying to find some way to get back into the match. The notoriously temperamental McEnroe would help him out. Before the match began, McEnroe made some comments to cameramen and photographers beside the court. The perfectionistic McEnroe was extremely touchy about the slightest noise, even at the best of times. And what time could be better than a two set to none lead over Lendl in the French Open Final. In the third game, a crack suddenly appeared in McEnroe’s mental game. At 1 – 1 and up 0 – 30 on Lendl’s serve, McEnroe was on the verge of rendering the knockout blow. Then, at precisely 4:40 p.m., an hour and 14 minutes into the match, McEnroe strode over to a cameraman and yelled “Shut up!” into his earpiece. That was the moment everything began to change.

Click here for: False Narrative – Ivan The Invisible & McEnroe The Martyr (For Love of the Game #6)

War In Paris: Lendl Versus McEnroe (For The Love of the Game #4)

I once took a trip to Paris and it was not to see the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame. or the Sacre-Coeur. Nor did I go to Paris to visit the Louvre, Napoleon’s Tomb, or the Arc de Triomphe. I was not visiting Paris for a walk along the River Seine, the Champ Elysees or Jardins de Luxembourg. I was not interested in the City of Light or experiencing romance. French culture did not draw me to Paris either. I cared little about what food I ate. My only culinary need was to avoid starvation. The first thing I had for lunch was French Fries. They tasted just like the ones at home. My disregard for the most famed part of the French capital did not mean that I was anti-Paris.  On the contrary, a potential visit had intrigued me for the longest time. There was one good reason for that.

War in Paris – Ivan Lendl & John McEnroe during the 1984 French Open Final

Tears & Toil – The French
My first morning in Paris I was a man on a mission twenty-five years in the making. I would stay several days in the city, but nothing mattered as much as that first morning. If I only did one thing in Paris, it would be what had been first and foremost on my mind since I was child sitting on my mother’s bright red sofa staring at a three-channel television the second Sunday in June. After way too much coffee, I took the Metro from Belleville station near where I was staying to Porte D’Auteuil station. I then skirted the Bois De Boulogne, a beautiful park that preserves a lasting remnant of an ancient oak forest. This did not detain me because I had a long-awaited meeting. I was going to visit Roland Garros. Please understand that this visit was not going to be in the flesh. The ace World War I fighter pilot died long ago in the same war that made him famous. Instead, I was going to visit the tennis complex named after him. Officially it is known as the Stade Roland Garros. My best friend and I always referred to it simply as the French.

The French was two words that conjured up thoughts of dramatic battles in the terre battue (red clay) that cakes the shoes and clothes of competitors locked in epic struggles for tennis supremacy. There is something enchanting about watching grown men and women play in the dirt. The dust and grime make the greatest of these matches more memorable. Tennis at the French is not of the whitey tighty type. Here, the gentleman’s game turns dirty. The clay runs red with the blood, sweat, and tears of those who toil for hours. The most powerful players in the world often find themselves reduced to slogging it out with dirt ballers born from this same soil in European and South American backwaters. The French Open brings together 256 of the best men’s and women’s tennis players in the world for a couple of weeks in Paris. Only two leave in triumph. The rest are left to lick wounds salted with grime. Their hopes were ground to dust.

Dramatic scenario – Court Centrale at Stade Roland Garros

Court Centrale – Ghosts of Greatness
The French is one of tennis’ four major tournaments and the only one played on red clay. It was my introduction to continental Europe. Prior to 1989, this last rite of spring had the added advantage that it brought together players from both sides of the wall. East and west met in Paris to do battle. Watching the French was my yearly meeting with sporting luminaries from Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Hungary, the Soviet Union, and Romania. I was here to relive some of those memories after a quarter century watching hundreds of matches on television. My visit included a tour of the grounds. This included the opportunity to visit. Court Centrale, where so many incredible matches have been played by legends of the game.

Standing on the court, I was shocked by how small it felt. Maybe it was the stadium surrounding the court, or the large space beyond the baseline that made the court seem so tiny. It was hard to believe that so many titanic tennis battles took place in such a claustrophobic environment. All those great finals between Federer and Nadal, Agassi and Courier, Chang and Edberg, Graf and Hingis, Evert and Navratilova in a single space. And one final stands above all the others in my mind. In 1984, Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe renewed their rivalry in Paris. A rivalry marked by their dislike, bordering on complete contempt for one another. The two men were a study in contrasts. Icy glares and fiery tumult, raw power versus sublime artistry, the composed Czech against the combustible Yank. Lendl had very few friends and McEnroe lots of enemies. Lendl hailed from a communist state, McEnroe from a capitalist one. Yet they did have one thing in common. Each in their own way was an iconoclast.

Striving for Perfection – John McEnroe at the French Open

Aura of Invincibility – At The Highest Level
It has been almost forty years since Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe faced one another on a warm and cloudless Sunday in Paris. The final was billed as an opportunity for McEnroe to put twenty-nine years of American men’s tennis failures in Paris to rest. The last time an American had won the tournament was Tony Trabert in 1954. Since that time, one American man after another had been ground down and buried in the red clay. Roland Garros was American men’s tennis’ kryptonite. It reduced even the greatest American players to mere mortals. Jimmy Connors never made a final. Neither did Stan Smith nor Arthur Ashe. Brian Gottfried did and managed to win just three games off Guillermo Vilas. Games, set, and trounced. Now McEnroe was supposed to put a stop to this.

Standing in this way was the taciturn Czech, Ivan Lendl. He had grown up on clay and won many important tournaments on it. Under normal circumstances he would have been favored. In this case, the circumstances were anything but normal. McEnroe came into the tournament playing the greatest tennis of his career. Earlier in the spring, McEnroe proceeded to prove that he was up to the challenge of clay where traditionally he had been at his weakest. In the lead up to the French Open, McEnroe looked invincible and that included on clay against Lendl. He defeated Lendl in straight sets twice, first at Forest Hills and then in Dusseldorf. Lendl looked lost against McEnroe, but not for long.

Click here for: Czeched Mated By An American Express – Lendl & McEnroe Act One In Paris (For Love of the Game #5)