The first series of Pathé’s History of the War was announced in September 1917, with a second set of nine parts following in October. Described by Rachael Low as an ‘interesting but isolated venture in film journalism’, the series was introduced by Pathé as ‘a weekly series of half-reelers dealing with events during the past three years’ (Low, 1950, 153). An advertisement in Bioscope in September 1917 referred to ‘the greatest scenes of topical films ever produced’ and labelled the series ‘a colossal success’ (Bioscope, 20 September 1917, xxi). This success was also noted in the review for the second set of pictures, which Bioscope described as ‘quite as attractive as the first chapter, which has proved so successful’ (Bioscope, 11 October 1917, 54).

The series was also exhibited overseas, playing, for example, in New Zealand during the summer of 1918. Weekly screenings were advertised in the Grey River Argus as part of ‘Pollards Pictures’ at the local Opera House (Grey River Argus, 11 July 1918, 4). In America, there were screenings of Pathé’s History of the War beginning with footage of the war’s origins in Serbia and focussing on a different country each week. A report previewing a weekly screening at the Lyceum theatre in Winnipeg from April 1918 explained that the series would be ‘most valuable from the standpoint of education’ and ‘all school boys and girls will be given a chance to see them every Saturday morning’ (Manitoba Free Press, 20 April 1918, 22). Luke McKernan has illustrated the work of Charles Urban in bringing British war pictures to American audiences – Urban secured a deal with Pathé, which began in April 1917 – with an estimated 65 million people viewing the British war films in Urban’s charge during 1917 alone (McKernan, 2002, 384).

The series featured, and re-contextualised, newsreel footage that had often already been screened by Pathé. The review in Bioscope noted that ‘even if some of the incidents, battle scenes, etc., have been previously seen in Pathé Gazette, they are none the less interesting to-day in the light of later events’ (Bioscope, 11 October 1917, 54). As an example, footage of the New Zealand and Australian troops ‘under the shadow of the pyramids’ had featured regularly in England and, in particular in New Zealand and Australia during 1915. This footage, which ‘throws an illuminating light on the arduous training that the New Zealand and Australian Reinforcements had to undergo prior to their departure for the Dardanelles’, was packaged as Our Troops in Egypt when it played in New Zealand in 1915 (Evening Post, 30 June 1915, 3).

The footage of colonial troops evidently elicited a different response when shown within the countries represented on screen. When some of the footage of the New Zealand troops was shown in New Zealand in The Troops in Egypt, local papers presented the film as an opportunity to see ‘all the scenes that your friends have described to you’. Reviews emphasised the ‘march past of the troops’ and noted that ‘close up pictures make thousands of your friends clearly recognisable’ (Grey River Argus, 13 January 1916, 3). When the initial episode of the History of The War series – which showed the first expedition force on its way to France – was screened in England, a review claimed that ‘widows and bereaved mothers and sisters see or hope to see in these pictures living flashes of their beloved hero dead’. As a result of the enormous loss of life on this expedition, ‘nearly every face in these moving pictures holds tragic interest for some woman’. ‘Some go away in tears’, the report concluded, ‘some return to make sure and some sit through several performances without being satisfied’ (Lake Park News, 31 January 1918).

This edition of the series shows the arrival of Indian troops in Marseille. The Times reported on their arrival on 26 September 1914, less than six weeks after the declaration of war. ‘Today it has been my great fortune to assist in the making of history’, the journalist wrote. ‘I have seen the troops of one of the world’s most ancient civilisations set forth for the first time on the shores of Europe. I have seen proud Princes of India ride at the head of thousands of soldiers … determined to help with their Emperor’s battles or die… [and I have seen] what may well prove to be the strongest link in that singular and wonderful chain which we call the British Empire’ (The Times, 2 October 1914, 9). The scene is also recounted in the diary of an artist, Massia Bibikoff, who drew the Indians in camp in Marseille. ‘The city was decked with flags’, she wrote, ‘as if it were one of the great national holidays … shouting welcome to the gallant, bronze-faced soldiers who marched by with dignified yet swinging gait’. ‘It was’, the diary suggested, ‘a delirious scene’ as crowds stood up and cheered ‘“Vive Angleterre", " Vivent les Hindous", “Vivent les Alliés!"’ (Bibikoff, 1915, 11) Yet, while she talks of the camaraderie amongst the troops, subsequent historical work has highlighted the discrimination and tensions often felt within the camp. Nikolas Gardner outlined the ‘unprecedented restrictions’ placed on the Indians in Marseille – including a curfew and the threat of public flogging – which served primarily to prevent any relationships between Indian soldiers and European women and caused enormous resentment within the troops (Gardner, 2003, 177).