Edward Seago: Ins and Outs of Army Life

"The Tape Line to Forli" by Edward Seago

"Edward Seago had been taken ill with a prolonged heart turn and, as usual [trying to hide his condition from the army], was in the care of a civilian doctor. After he had been absent for a couple of weeks, a conscientious army medical officer decided to pay a courtesy call on Edward, whom he though was suffering from influenza. He was shocked and startled to discover the real nature of his illness. On his report, Seago was summoned before a medical board and told to consider himself out of the army from the moment he left their presence. As far as Seago was concerned it was the ultimate rejection.

The pain and humiliation were clearly apparent in a letter which he wrote to General Harold Alexander, a close friend who had become Commander-in-Chief of the 15th Army Group in Italy. The General's reply was characteristic of his firmness and readiness to turn his power to patrician use. He wrote: 

'My Dear Ted - This will be a grand opportunity for you to come out and pay me a limitless visit. You will stay at my HQ as my guest and I can probably find some work for you to do if you get bored - but bring all your painting materials, and you will be able to paint to your heart's content...' 

Upon arrival in Rome, he was driven to Alexander's advance headquarters, which was a little group of caravans and tents in the middle of a wood. The commander explained, 'I thought you might like to come and paint here. If the army doesn't want you, you might as well paint, and what better place to paint than Italy? You can paint the campaign.' Edward was surprised but gratified, and wrote to a friend, 'I never knew what position I was appointed to. I had a driver, and a jeep and a pass from Alex which enabled me to go anywhere from the 5th Army to the 8th Army and attach myself to any Battalion on either front. I wasn't an official war artist, I was Alex's official artist and I remained a Major!' 

Again he knew an overwhelming desire to paint, but for once he felt quite unable to express his feelings by selecting a focal point and then seeing the whole of the picture in relation to it. '

The battered towers of ruined churches signified so much more than an 'upright' of value to the composition,' he wrote. 'Groups of rain-sodden men and vehicles, deep in mud, ceased to be mere combinations of shape and tone. Shattered houses, spilling their structure in a pile of rubble could not be dismissed as a pattern arrangement of coloured walls, and weary refugees on their journey without purpose could hardly be sketched as 'incidentals' in a landscape."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Edward Seago: The Other Side of the Canvas" by Jean Goodman.)