Sabaton – The War to End All Wars
Release Date: 4th March 2022
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
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Genre: Power Metal, Heavy Metal.
FFO: Powerwolf, Hammerfall, Gloryhammer.
Review By: Kira L. Schlechter
It’s admittedly pretty uncomfortable to listen to an album about the First World War, considering the present global situation. That conflict was dubbed “the war to end all wars,” but yet, here we are. Life and art again are imitating each other way too tragically much.
Surely Sabaton had no idea they’d be in this position with their 10th album, “The War To End All Wars,” the sequel to 2019’s “The Great War,” but again, here we are. This one stemmed from, as singer/keyboardist Joakim Broden said in the bio, being on tour and “(hearing) from so many fans who told us about other great WWI stories we’d never heard before.”
The Swedish pagans – Broden, guitarists Chris Rorland and Tommy Johansson, bassist Par Sundstrom, and drummer Hannes Van Dahl – are pretty much the lone residents of this sub-subgenre of let’s call it “war metal.” The research they do on their subject matter is obviously extensive, and this is the First World War parsed down to vignettes from the start to the end of the conflict, ones both familiar and not so much.
We start as the war started, with “Sarajevo,” about the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, “a shot that would change the world.” Mostly spoken by a wonderfully-voiced British actress, it’s the perfect introduction – putting forth a bit of background (“the Austro-Hungarian Empire had been a powerful influence in the heart of Europe” but “not everyone bowed to this power”), the band roaring out the strident, marching chorus. Brief, suspenseful interludes are placed between each verse, and the music solidifies just as the situation intensifies, powered by orchestration and Hannes’ crisp double kick. And so, as they say, “War begins.”
“Stormtroopers” is about “the smaller, well-trained, and well-equipped units of soldiers who would break the stalemate of the front lines” (this from the band’s thoughtful description of each track on its social media). “They were under twenty-five,” these men, who provided “a glimpse of the future and Blitzkrieg is born.” Set to a big, bright melody and ground out in Joakim’s gravelly baritone and charmingly rolled Rs (and featuring his unparalleled rhyming skill), it’s a trademark Sabaton sing-along, especially the chorus – much as one might not be wanting to sing lines like “Strike at zero hour/With overwhelming firepower” these days. Their songs are always precise, succinct, with just enough detail to sketch the story out but not get bogged down in minutiae.
“Dreadnought” is a class of British battleship, and this track is about the “naval conflict at Jutland.” Beginning and ending with crashing waves and a hitching, rolling, uneven groove, this builds its plot gradually in the verses, describing “A shadow moves across the water in pursuit … instilling fear among its prey” until the fight is joined. The bridge brings the story to a head with the inevitable clash between the Dreadnoughts and the German High Seas Fleet. And damn them for the chorus on this one – it’s hair-raisingly glorious, the melody divine, the overdubbing masterful, the little keyboard line above it all an extra treat for the attentive ear.
“The Unkillable Soldier” is the tale of Sir Adrian Carton De Wiart, the Belgian soldier who was seriously injured multiple times (even surviving several plane crashes), but who kept fighting for the British Empire. The immediate overdubbed vocal flourish at the start is a quick run-through of his bio – a “son of Belgium and Ireland with war in his blood” who “studied law,” who “Fought in Africa, wanted more” and who went “Back in Europe then straight to France.” The pre-choruses play with repeating rhymes to great effect – “Never die, shot through the eye … How they try, shot through the eye” and “Save the day, he’ll never stray … Come his way, he’ll never stray. But was he brave or crazy? The classically-influenced chorus says, “At the edge of madness, in a time of sadness,” and its very tempo – headlong, galloping, slightly, well, maddened – hints that De Wiart’s battle lust was indeed a bit unnatural.
The lesser-known Alpine front of the war and the fighting that occurred in those inhospitable conditions is described in “Soldier of Heaven.” Moody and reflective, this starts with keyboards and electronic drums, Joakim’s growl tender, intimate, almost gentle as he tells of the poor soul who “won’t be coming home … won’t be going anywhere,” who has “seen it all but none will hear my story.” The bodies of those who died there, like the song’s protagonist, were never recovered, and two lines in the bridge drive that point tragically home – “All of these years I have been frozen in time/I cried for spring to come, but here, winter remains.” And once again, a tragically beautiful chorus serves as the track’s centerpiece.
Another quick biographical piece is the muscular “Hellfighters,” about the 369th Regiment, made up of primarily African American and Puerto Rican soldiers kept segregated from the rest of the American troops. There’s a fine touch of social commentary in the line, “Fought with courage and devotion, preconceptions turned,” and later praise comes with the detail “the 369th/kept on fighting until it was over, and they were first to reach the Rhine.” The pre-chorus is repeated and expanded upon to become the chorus, a tidy little bit of songwriting technique. And Joakim’s voice adjusts accordingly from the previous song to this one, becoming more strident, more rugged, to suit the material.
“Race to the Sea” tells of King Albert of Belgium’s “decision to flood the last part of Belgium … and prevent all of (the country from falling) into German hands.” Unlike the other, more driving tracks, this has a loose, easy swing that settles in comfortably after the flourish of the opening line, “We’re keeping the kingdom free.” A brief reminder of what started the whole thing (“As an archduke falls, and the battle horn calls”) kicks off this marching song; you can imagine the troops (in the persona of Joakim’s swaggering rumble) singing the defiant, workmanlike chorus, “For king and for country, we, are flooding the river.” There’s a set of eerily timely lines in the second verse that can’t help but resonate: “As our foe draws forth we are moving north, we will never let them have it all … They may take our towns, they may conquer our grounds, we’ll defend the nation and the crown/We’ll uphold our independence with our guns.” The resolution is the ringing vow, “No more of our country lost, the line will be held at all cost.”
Milunka Savic, a Serbian woman who took her brother’s place in the war, is the titular “Lady of the Dark,” a rare Sabaton song about a woman. Disguised as a man, she became a war hero, and this second short biographical track is upbeat, dignified, and respectful, with another trademark earworm chorus and carefully chosen details about her story, this “Soldier with no will to kill, with a philanthropic heart” who “Lied to be respected/And to change her brother’s fate” and who “Took a bullet, earned her freedom.”
As it’s become clear by now, “The War To End All Wars” alternates between stories of people and ones of events. “The Valley of Death” is the latter, telling of the Battle of Doiran “where Bulgarian troops (held the line) against a larger invading British force.” Hectic and frantic, with ringing dual guitar work, it describes the determination of the Bulgarians in their efforts – “Twice they attack, twice they’re beaten back,” Joakim reflects. Well-chosen details like “For white, green, and red” (the colors of the Bulgarian flag) and strategic notes like “Double trench lines that won’t give in” reinforce the depth of the band’s research, and the carefully positioned overdubbing in certain lines of the chorus drive home the urgency of the plot’s action.
Christmas Eve 1914 brought the “Christmas Truce,” when British and German troops shared a moment of peace. In an extremely clever bit of musical skill, Joakim seamlessly incorporates the “Carol of the Bells” into the piano melody at the heart of the track; it’s then expanded by orchestration and booming riffs. Joakim plays the weary soldier perfectly in the first verse as he gruffly remembers the “silence on a cold winter’s day” and how “voices sang to me from no man’s land.” The more dramatic second verse is also more introspective and personal – he admits, “We were hiding our tears/In a foreign land where we faced our fears/We were soldiers/Carried the world on our shoulders/For our nations/Is that why we bury our friends?” The grand, sweeping lilt of the chorus, with the feel of a drinking song, is that brief bit of happiness in very somber times – near the end, they strip it down to just vocals, and it becomes a chant that longs to banish the dark reality for good.
And we end as the war ended, with “Versailles,” named for the treaty that ended the war. This is the absolutely perfect bringing-everything-full-circle – our female narrator returns to tell of how the conflict draws to a close and the cost – “millions of casualties from all sides.” A chorus very similar to that of “Sarajevo” but with a decidedly optimistic bent praises the “treaty to change the world.” Peace comes for a time and everyone returns home, “but not everyone agrees,” our narrator intones. “In the underground, something is growing in the dark/Because for some, the war never ended,” she says. Her chilling comment that comes next is too damn prophetic: “War will never entirely die. It will evolve, it will change. And war will return, sooner than we think.” When the chorus returns, it is that of “Sarajevo” exactly – the same words, the same grim tone – and it alters yet again into the near-mantra of “Will this war really end all wars?/Can a war really end all war?/Will this war bring another war?” the guitars shrieking in frustration above it all.
Sabaton does understand the bitter irony of putting out an album like this at a time like this, by the way. A post on their Facebook page reads that the new album “deals with a conflict that ended over a century ago.
“And we’re deeply saddened to now see mankind repeat the mistakes of generations past,” it continues. “There has been more than enough bloodshed throughout history. No need for more.”
Writing about war is not celebrating it. They know the difference. So should we. 
(5 / 5)
