Chapter II: Part 2

"Certainly it is not the fortune of war which decides the question of right and wrong between States, but to succumb in the struggle for existence is evidence of disorders or weakness such as history does not forgive. Wealth and size and abundance of material resources are not sufficient. There are other and ethical factors which ensure and achieve victory: a deeply inculcated docility, an order and subordination such as give shape to the mass, a discipline such as renders it fit for use and self-confident even under failure, an emulation of all the noble passions such as steels and braces the soul, together with a strong will to direct the whole, and power of thought to point the way to the desired goal."

[1] General Carl v. Clausewitz. _On War_ vol. iii., p. 101. Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, Ltd., London. [_Vom Kriege. Skizzen zum VIII. Buch_, 3 Kap. B.]

[2] _La Guerre_ 1870-1871. Paris, 1895.

[3] Vol. i., p. 100.

[4] _Die Operationen der 2 Armee an der Loire_. Berlin, 1875. E. S. Mittler und Sohn.

[5] _On War_, vol. i., p. 47. [_Vom Kriege_. I, B., 3 Kap.]

[6] _Preussische Politik_, V.

III

THE INFLUENCE OF TECHNICAL SCIENCE

Notwithstanding the decisive importance of the moral factor, we must not fail to appreciate the great significance of technical science in the present War as regards the effectiveness of weapons, protection against these weapons, organisation of transport and intelligence services, and also aërial warfare. It could not reveal itself fully until this War. In peace we had rather suspected than actually realised it, for any testing of it on a large scale, let alone on such an enormous scale as the World War has witnessed, was out of the question. The Russo-Japanese War did not reveal it to anything like the same extent; hence the instruction which that war furnished could give but a feeble conception of what might be expected in the sphere of technical science. Moreover, in the decade following upon the Manchurian campaign, technical science underwent an increasingly rapid development.

The importance of railways as an instrument of war was early recognised by Moltke. He always kept an eye on their development. Up to the beginning of the World War, the mobilisation of the German forces by rail in 1870 was looked upon as a phenomenal achievement, and rightly so, when we consider the very meagre development of our railway system at that date. Nevertheless, at that time less than half a million Germans had to be dispatched to the frontier, as compared with something like one-and-a-half millions in the year 1914. Also the transports within the Empire after the mobilisation were more than three times as numerous as those of 1870. Moreover, the transfers of troops during the operations themselves, which in 1870-71 took place on both sides in France, appear insignificant by the side of those effected during the World War. In the separate theatres of war movements of transports have been constantly effected, and at the same time the railways have been utilised for manœuvring purposes. The one-time notion which attributed a certain rigidity to railways as compared with progress on foot, because the latter could be deflected at a moment's notice in any desired direction, has now lost much of its force. In spite of the rigidity of the railway tracks, we have always contrived to dispatch the transports in accordance with the requirements of the military command. Whole armies have been transferred from one theatre of war to another, as was essential for the Central Powers in a war conducted on several fronts. Previous wars have, of course, from time to time, furnished instances of a similar utilisation of railways, for instance the American Civil War, and the War of 1866, in which strong contingents of the Austrian Southern Army were dispatched over the Alps to the Danube and back again to the north of Italy. When in 1866, after Königgrätz, we were threatened with the intervention of France, Moltke contemplated the transport of the Prussian troops in Moravia to the Rhine. Nevertheless, as regards the distances to be traversed and the mass of men and materials to be conveyed, never until the present War have such demands been made on the railways.

The enormous numbers engaged in the War involved a very high degree of dependence on the railways. Even in 1870-71 the German second army (which at that time comprised only three army corps) experienced at the Loire the serious inconvenience of not having adequate railway communications in their rear. At the present day, the unhampered development of operations in the war of movement and a secure maintenance of positions in entrenched warfare are only possible if the bringing up of munitions, stores, and men, and the removal of the wounded, as well as the systematic organisation of the whole sanitary service, are ensured by means of the railways. Only from time to time has it been possible to dispense with them by having recourse to motor wagons; but the latter have never really furnished an adequate substitute for railways.

Moreover, the notion that railways were not to be relied on as an instrument of war, because they could be so easily destroyed, has proved itself untenable. This was entirely applicable in the case of the destruction of railways in 1870, but present-day technology has always found means to remove such difficulties with comparative speed and to make the lines serviceable again. Where special difficulties presented themselves, as for instance in Macedonia in the late autumn of 1915, operations have been unavoidably brought to a standstill.

In his history of the autumn campaign of 1813,[1] Lieutenant-General Friederich attributes the overthrow of Napoleon principally to the fact that the manipulation and the mutual reinforcement at the right moment of the various divisions in Saxony, Silesia, and the Mark, on the Lower Elbe and in Bavaria, of a French army numbering in all more than half a million men could only be possible with the aid of railways and the electric telegraph. The armies of that day had already outgrown the technical resources of their age. If we consider that, after Napoleon himself had returned to Dresden from the pursuit of the main army of the allies which began on the 28th of August, it was not until the 3d of September that he was fully informed of the defeats of Oudinot at Gross-Beeren and of Macdonald at the Katzbach with all their consequences, and was able to form a decision adapted to the circumstances, and this within a circuit of from thirty to sixty miles from Dresden, which was all the area that the disposition of his troops extended over at that time, we perceive the great obstacles which opposed themselves in those days to the joint direction of independent bodies of troops, even when the distance between these was comparatively insignificant.

Even with the introduction of railways and of the electric telegraph, these difficulties were not yet surmounted, owing to the deficiency of the technical organisation and the inadequate equipment of the troops. On the eve of the battle of Königgrätz, there was no telegraphic connection between the main headquarters at Gitschin and the second army of the Crown Prince of Prussia. The command to join battle, dispatched at midnight, was delivered to the headquarters of the second army at Königinhof at four o'clock in the morning of the 3d of July by the aide-de-camp, Lieutenant-Colonel Count Finckenstein, who had thus accomplished the night-ride of twenty-five miles by way of Miletin in four hours. Even the campaign of 1870-71 furnished numerous instances of defective and inadequate telegraphic connections. On the other hand, in this World War, telephones, telegraphy, and wireless telegraphy have placed the transmission of orders and news on a very much more secure footing. The telephone has been able to convey orders and information into the very midst of a battle. Rides like those of Count Finckenstein on the night before Königgrätz have been replaced by journeys in motor-cars, and orders have been thereby transmitted with greater safety and far greater speed. Moreover, by means of motor-cars and railways, verbal consultations between the leaders or their deputies have been rendered possible. The conduct of the operations as a whole has been placed on a far securer footing as compared with former days, as a result of the technical resources of the present day. And this was very necessary in view of the immense numbers and the vast distances which now had to be coped with. If technical science had been still in the same condition in which it was in 1870, the manipulation of armies and troops at the present day would have been a hopeless undertaking. But however valuable as regards the conduct of operations has been the aid furnished by the resources of modern times, it could not completely overcome the very great difficulties which had to be faced. Now as ever, war is the domain of frictions and uncertainty.

The hitherto untried weapon of war furnished by aircraft brought about a number of new phenomena. The dirigible airship, valuable as it has proved for reconnoitring at sea, has given way before the aeroplane in land warfare. The Zeppelins are extraordinarily sensitive. They have to keep at considerable heights, because they provide very large targets. This reduces the accuracy with which they can aim bombs. They also need a large expenditure of labour and materials and they have to be housed in sheds. The brilliant invention of Count Zeppelin provided a weapon which, especially at the beginning of the War, was of great moral importance, and was also of indisputable value, because with the Zeppelin we got over to England; but in this sphere also the large fighting aeroplane has taken its place. The importance of aeroplanes has considerably increased since it has become possible for them to keep at heights of far more than 3000 metres, thereby reducing the danger from gunfire directed against them from the ground. German industry furnished our aviators with such an equipment as enabled them to establish more and more their superiority in the air. Aviation obviously has a great future. Its possibilities of development are many.

The aeroplane proved itself a valuable means of reconnaissance, in connection both with strategy and tactics. In addition, the captive balloon, with its more uninterrupted observation, rendered valuable service. Further, the photographs taken from aeroplanes furnished valuable assistance to the military command, above all in entrenched warfare, where other means of reconnaissance could-not be employed. By their aid, every alteration in the dispositions of the enemy and all the organisation behind their front could be clearly made out. In the war of movement also rapid aeroplanes have been extensively used for reconnaissance. This comprehensive survey of the enemy was something new. Cavalry had never been able to achieve anything comparable to it, even in former times, when their opportunities for reconnaissance were not restricted by the effectiveness of the weapons employed against them to anything like the same extent. Just as formerly cavalry engagements took place at the front of the lines for the purpose of routing the cavalry of the enemy and thereby gaining a view of their positions, so now air engagements take place on both sides with the aim of gaining a view of the enemy or frustrating a similar attempt on his part. Moreover, aircraft render very notable services in direct co-operation with the infantry as well as in the observation of artillery fire. The French at a very early stage accustomed themselves to the use of aircraft for observation, a plan which has since been imitated by us with constantly increasing success.

Not only did aeroplanes make excursions over the enemy lines for purposes of reconnaissance, but also for purposes of bomb-throwing. Not only were the enemy harassed repeatedly by the bombing of their quarters, their camp, their munition dumps and other establishments, but also troops concentrating for an offensive were attacked in this way with satisfactory results. Moreover, by raids into the enemy country carried out by squadrons of aircraft, we were able to inflict damage on fortifications, sources of military supplies, and other military establishments. In the course of these raids some unfortified places without military significance have had to suffer. The bombardment of these places is in itself objectionable, but the limits of what is permissible are in this matter in many ways elastic. A new weapon opens up its own paths, as is shown, for example, by the submarine war. In any case, in this contest of nations with its economic background, the War is turned more and more against the enemy countries, and the principle hitherto accepted that war is made only against the armed power of the enemy is, in this case as in other spheres, relegated to the background.

In regard to the weapons which have proved most effective in the hands of the infantry, this World War, incredible as it may appear, has witnessed to a certain degree a retrograde development. The opposed forces, although equipped with long-distance rifles, were brought so close to one another, that they had recourse to the naked steel, and the hand-grenades of a past age were once again revived, though in an improved form. To be sure, instances occurred in the Russo-Japanese War, where the contending parties were for long periods in very close proximity to one another, and also in the Boer War many of the battles were fought, at any rate in part, at very close range; but the general tendency was to regard these as exceptions and to explain them as the result of local conditions or of the national characteristics of the contending parties, and to reckon the normal range of infantry righting as from 800 to 400 yards. Even with such an imperfect weapon as was the needle-gun compared with the present-day magazine rifle, Moltke in 1865 unconditionally gave to firearms the first place as regards effectiveness. He wrote[2]:

"Attack with the bayonet is the means with which finally to vanquish the enemy; no soldier will wish to abandon its use. The confidence of the men in the naked steel cannot be sufficiently aroused and encouraged, but its application must have been made possible by the previous course of the fight and have been prepared for by means of effective gunfire.... If the bayonet contests so frequently described in French accounts of the Italian campaign of 1859 were stripped of their dramatic glamour, if we could ascertain the simple prosaic truth, it would have to be admitted in reference to by far the greater number of them that the enemy had already been demoralised by more or less considerable losses and shunned a genuine encounter."

Even prior to this date[3] the Field-Marshal wrote:

"General Niel, it is true, ascribes his victory (in the Battle of Solferino) to the bayonet. It may be resorted to whenever the attack has been pushed to a struggle of man against man. As a general rule, this only occurs when it is presupposed that the opponent will not accept battle."

We have already explained the psychological factors which come into play in the World War and embitter it in a manner which had not to be reckoned with in the time of Moltke. The Field-Marshal, moreover, could not foresee when, in the essay we have quoted, he cited a few instances taken from the Wars of Liberation, in which attacks were made with clubs and bayonets "under conditions in which firearms could not be effective," that such conditions would, at a future date, present themselves repeatedly upon fronts extending for miles.

As with hand-grenade fighting, mine-warfare too suffered a kind of resurrection in entrenched warfare. In the siege of Port Arthur it had already once again played an important part. It was only natural that from the moment that the operations took on the nature of a siege all the available weapons should be brought into play, both those which had been utilised previously and improved by the aid of modern technical science, and also those of recent invention. Thus, for warfare at close quarters, flame-throwers, bomb-throwers, the trench-mortars of earlier days in an improved form, trench cannon and muskets came into use, while the machine-guns acquired a growing importance, corresponding with their great increase in numbers. With the introduction of appliances for blowing gas from reservoirs and of gas-grenades, entirely new weapons of war made their appearance. And these in their turn called for special means of defence in the shape of gas-masks. The English and the French sought to prepare the way for their attacking troops by the employment of battle-motors--the so-called tanks. Altogether, this War, as a result of the development of modern technical science, has led to inventions and improvements such as no previous war has ever witnessed. It will always redound to the special glory of German industry, and above all of Germany's chemical industry, that in this sphere it engaged in and carried through a struggle against the industry of the whole world. The supplies of artillery ammunition which had been provided for the War proved in the case of all the belligerent States to be very far below the requirements. Especially in the late autumn of 1914, our troops found themselves more than once in a critical situation as a result of this shortage. None the less, it was impossible that such immense supplies as were actually required should have been stored up in peace time. Our industry, however, succeeded in satisfying to an ever-increasing extent the demands which had to be made upon it; it was able, by its unaided effort, to keep pace with the enormous supplies which poured in to our enemies from America and (in the case of Russia) from Japan.

As a result of the manner in which the positions were more and more adapted to the ground or artificially concealed, high-angle-firing artillery gained in importance. At the beginning we possessed in our numerous mobile heavy high-angle-fire batteries a certain superiority over the French, which, however, they were able in part to make up for by the extremely skilful use and appropriate grouped disposition of their artillery. Later on in the War, the French and the English brought into action guns of very heavy calibre, which hurled immense quantities of shells against our trenches.

These trenches, both with ourselves and with our enemies, and both in West and East, assumed more and more the character of fortifications, fitted with quickly manufactured wire entanglements such as only modern industry could have been equal to supplying in such enormous quantities. This fact, taken together with the astonishing successes which our heaviest high-angle-fire artillery and also the motor-impelled Austro-Hungarian howitzers achieved against the Belgian and later against the Russian fortresses, has given rise to the idea that in future fortified trenches will take the place of fortresses. In any case it is certain that the old-fashioned fortresses are worthless, and, moreover, that the earlier notion, handed down from the Middle Ages, that positions had to be secured by means of fortresses, must finally be discarded. It has long been among the things which have been outgrown. As early as 1809 Napoleon wrote[4]: "Fortresses like cannon are only weapons, which cannot of themselves fulfil their purpose; they must be properly manipulated and applied"; and in 1806 he said[5] that in the construction of fortresses the same principles were applicable as in the disposition of troops. Fortresses are intended to assist operations, and since the course of the latter can never be foreseen with absolute certainty, it might seem to be the best plan to construct them during the war wherever they are required. That, however, would be going too far. It will not be possible to dispense with certain previously prepared fortified points at places where only defensive tactics can be employed. The fortifications on the French eastern frontier, above all Verdun and the fortified Moselle front, have demonstrated how valuable these may be. When the insufficiently-manned and widely-separated fortifications of the French eastern frontier in 1814 were described by those who opposed the notion of an invasion of France by the allies as "the impregnable front of France," this was a very great exaggeration. A century later, however, it became an actual fact. Even the powerful effectiveness of our heavy and heaviest artillery did not avail at Verdun to enable us to take the works everywhere by storm in the further course of the attack, a proof that skilfully constructed sunk fortifications, when they are favoured by the character of the ground, now as ever may be of great value.

On the other hand, the practice of fortifying large towns seems now to have become obsolete. They had long lost their significance as centres of fortifications, and in future they will have such significance only as places of refuge in the midst of fortified zones. Such fortified zones will still be required, in the sense that certain frontier districts will be secured by means of a succession of permanent forts which must be constructed and maintained in time of peace, and to which must be linked certain other works to be taken in hand on the outbreak of war, and for which the necessary materials must be in readiness. It is a question of constructing not a continuous _Limites Romani_[6] which only affords a mainly immovable defence, such as was several times forced upon us by circumstances during the World War, but a succession of central points of defence, and this not in the shape of fortified towns, but of entrenchments of important areas. The World War has, as we shall explain, on the one hand confirmed anew the old truth that only by means of attack can decisive results be achieved, and that the war of movement and not entrenched warfare is the thing to be aimed at. On the other hand, it has revealed the immense power of a defence based upon well-constructed fortifications, in view of the effectiveness of modern weapons; and this revelation--more especially in view of our central geographical position--is of great value.

[1] Vol. iii., p. 401. E. S. Mittler und Sohn.

[2] _Einfluss der verbesserten Feuerwaffen auf die Taktik. Taktisch-strategische Aufsätze_, p. 59.

[3] _Kriegsgeschichtlicke Arbeiten III. Der Italienische Feldzug des Jahres 1859_, p. 258.

[4] Corr. XVIII., No. 14707. Notes sur la défense de l'Italie.

[5] Corr. XIII., No. 10726.

[6] The name of a continuous series of fortifications consisting of castles, walls, earthen ramparts, etc., erected by the Romans along the Rhine and the Danube, to protect their possessions from the attacks of the Germans.--_Translator's Note_.

IV

LEADERSHIP

In view of the development of modern technical science, it was inevitable that the World War should exhibit many characteristics different from those of earlier wars. None the less, it would be a great error to declare all the experience gained from previous wars to be out of date. The human intelligence attaches itself involuntarily to what lies nearest. Those who turned to account the experiences of the Boer War and of the Manchurian campaign would have benefited by a warning against one-sidedness. We have already drawn attention to the fact that, notwithstanding the power and effectiveness of modern weapons, now as ever it is the moral element that is finally decisive in war. The same is true of the intellectual element, of leadership. If the leaders were unwilling to consult the experiences of earlier wars, they would fall into a hopeless one-sidedness. As in every department of practical life, it is a question of finding the true relation between knowledge and capacity. Clausewitz expresses it exactly when he says[1]:

"He who intends to move in such an element as war must bring with him nothing at all gained from books save the education of his mind; if he brings with him ready-made ideas which have not been inspired in him by the shock of the moment, which he has not generated out of his own flesh and blood, the rush of events will overthrow his building before it is completed. He will never be understood by natural men and will enjoy least confidence precisely among the most distinguished of them, that is to say, those who know themselves what they want."

Thus the instruction gained from the past must be further developed and adapted to present-day conditions. This was done for his age by Moltke in exemplary fashion. When he became the Chief of the General Staff he was already advanced in years, and although he possessed abundant practical experience and a comprehensive technical training, he had had no experience of European wars on a large scale. Hence he derived his opinions inevitably from the Napoleonic wars, and he could do so without detriment. The masses of troops which he had subsequently to command were no larger than the armies of the last wars of the First Empire. The army corps of 1866 and 1870 still corresponded to some extent to what to-day has already reached the dimensions of an army or army-group. Moreover, the difference between the military weapons of Moltke's day and those of the previous Napoleonic era was less than the difference between those of our day and those of 1870, though the introduction of breechloaders and rifled barrels had even at that day marked an important advance in the technique of arms, and Moltke did in fact form a just estimate of their influence upon tactics.

The war of 1870-71, like every other war, was not without its surprises. The importance of massed rifle-fire was only revealed by the effect of the chassepots of 1870. Indeed, Moltke himself, in his orders to the commanding officers of 1869, recommended that the lines of sharpshooters should not fire till they were at a distance of 300 paces from the enemy, with the exception of the troops especially designed for long-distance firing. On the morning of the 18th of August, 1870, the leader of the third army corps, Lieutenant-General von Alvensleben, expressed himself as follows to the commander of the first division of the foot-guards, Major-General von Pape:

"The chassepot fire has been underestimated, and also to some extent the mitrailleuses. It is impossible for us to make any progress as the result of tactics practised on the drilling-ground; we must have more manœuvring; we must develop and make use of even the most insignificant cover in the open country; above all we must employ our artillery long and continuously."[2]

The fire of the breechloaders of small calibre proved very much more effective still against the English in the South African war. When they had been repulsed at Paardeburg on the 18th of February, 1900, with heavy losses, Lord Kitchener said the next day: "If I had known yesterday what I know to-day, I should not have attacked the Boers in the river-valley; it is impossible in the face of the modern rifle."

The fact that exercise in time of peace does not afford any real test of the effectiveness of the enemy's fire will play an important part at the opening of every campaign. Even the most perfect military training cannot protect us against the element of incalculability which confronts us in this field. It can only satisfy to a limited extent the demands of the case.

In the sphere of instruction, Field-Marshal Count Schlieffen, no less than Moltke before him, even if, like the latter, he could not foresee the phenomena which the present War has engendered down to their every detail, none the less was always at pains to discipline and prepare the mind of the nation with a view to the demands of present-day war. For instance, in 1909, when he had already retired from office, he wrote:

"One direct consequence of the improvement of firearms is a greater extension of the fighting-front. Thus it has come about that while, in the battles of the last two centuries, all weapons and reserves included, on an average ten to fifteen men were reckoned to a metre of battle-line, and even forty years ago ten men to the pace was the ordinary reckoning, in the war in Eastern Asia of 1904-5 three men to the metre, or in case of need even less, was the ordinary rule. Neither of the contending parties entered the war with a fixed theory as to the extension of the fighting-fronts, or endeavoured to apply the notions which he had formed in time of peace. The long fighting-fronts have been the result of the force of circumstances and of the natural desire to take cover and at the same time to secure the full effectiveness of first-rate weapons. Beyond doubt, therefore, the phenomena which made their appearance in the Far East will be repeated in a European war. The battlefields of the future, therefore, will and must be of quite a different extent from those which we know from past experience. Armies of the same strength as those of Königgrätz and Gravelotte-St. Privat will occupy more than four times the space that they occupied at that day. But what will the 220,000 men of Königgrätz and the 186,000 men of Gravelotte signify, as compared with the masses which will certainly take the field in a future war!"

The tendency in the direction of vast numbers was in fact exhibited on all sides in the World War to a very striking degree. Count Schlieffen recognised at an early date that this was bound to happen. Our successes in the World War have been to a large extent due to his untiring efforts to train the General Staff and our higher command for a war of masses. His successor, Colonel-General von Moltke, adhered to the fundamental ideas of Schlieffen. Thus the beginning of the campaign in the West in August, 1914, developed in the main in accordance with Schlieffen's views. If at that time no decisive victory fell to our share, and our strength proved insufficient to vanquish France, we must none the less consider that up to the Marne we had achieved enormous things.

"In the very moment of accomplishment the completion of the battle was abandoned for far-reaching general reasons.... The battle was broken off by the German Supreme Command, and, in view of the general situation, a strategic retreat to a new line was ordered."

This is the judgment of a neutral writer[3] on the Battle of the Marne, and certainly it would have taken very little to turn the scale so that the victory might have fallen to us and a retreat been avoided. But the really decisive factor was that the German offensive was no longer strong enough to break through in the face of an enemy country bristling with armaments. The withdrawal of the German armies after the dazzling successes which had been achieved at the beginning could not but in the nature of things cause bitter disappointment at home. It ought, however, to be borne in mind that, if Moltke was able to achieve a Metz and a Sedan, he none the less had at his disposal forces considerably superior in numbers to those of the enemy, since, at the beginning of the war of 1870, the numbers of the German forces as compared to the French were in the ratio of 5 to 3. At the beginning of the War of 1914, on the other hand, the armed force of France alone was slightly in excess of the whole mobilised strength of Germany, while if we deduct the German forces employed in the East and those which were in the first instance kept at home for coast defence, the French, English, and Belgians possessed a numerical superiority of something like three-quarters of a million men. In addition to this, when the German Western army engaged in the Battle of the Marne, its original first-line troops had been reduced not only by two army corps which had been sent to the East, but also by two further army corps which it had been necessary to leave behind at Antwerp and Maubeuge.

It is the old phenomenon of the wearing down of forces in the course of an offensive which we here encounter anew. In the autumn of 1805 Napoleon crossed the Rhine and the Main with more than 200,000 men; at Austerlitz he engaged with only 75,000. At Eylau, out of the 200,000 men which he had at his disposal after the arrival of the contingent of the Rhenish Confederation in North Germany, he could send into action only 60,000 men, not to speak of the rapid dwindling away of his great army in Russia in 1812. In spite of the considerable superiority which we possessed in 1870-71 at the beginning of the war, and of the fact that the total strength of the German troops which gradually crossed the French frontier, amounted, all told, to 1,147,000 men; in spite of the enormous successes which we achieved at that time; none the less, owing to the unexpectedly long resistance which France with the aid of her new formations opposed to us, we found ourselves more than once, during the second period of the war, faced with a very serious and critical situation. A powerful offensive, aiming at the overthrow of the enemy, has almost always led up to a situation in which it was proved to lack the necessary troops in order to pursue its purpose to the end with complete security. Clausewitz expresses this when he says: "Every attack must lead to defence."[4]

Napoleon, when he was still General Buonaparte, insisted once to General Moreau, on the importance of numbers as a decisive factor in war.[5] He said: "Victory falls in the final event to the biggest battalions." Moreau is said to have retorted that this was quite correct in itself, but that in point of fact Napoleon himself had just proved in Italy that superiority of numbers does not always decide. "Does it not often happen that numerical superiority is compensated for by bravery, experience, discipline, and, above all, by the talent of the leader?" To which Buonaparte replied: "In a battle, certainly, but in a whole war seldom." Victories used up armies slowly but just as surely as defeats.

Thus the German offensive at the beginning of September, 1914, was not powerful enough to effect the overthrow of the enemy. The intention was to effect an envelopment from two sides. The envelopment by the left wing of the army, was, however, brought to a standstill before the fortifications of the French eastern frontier, which, in view of the prompt successes achieved against the Belgian fortifications, it had been hoped to overcome. The envelopment of the French left wing was successful up to in front of Paris and across the Marne, but here the German troops found their frontal advance arrested, while they in their turn were threatened with an envelopment. The defensive tactics of the leaders of the French army were rendered very much easier owing to the strong support which the fortifications on the eastern frontier gave to their wing, and also the possibility of effecting rapid transfers of troops afforded by a very convenient network of railways and a very numerous supply of motor wagons upon good roads. Moreover, they commanded the inner, shorter line. At the same time, even apart from this, it was proved on the Marne that the age of armies numbering millions, with their improved armament and the widely extended fronts which they necessitate, engenders very special conditions. On the Vistula and in Galicia in October, 1914, at Lodz and after the winter battle at the Masurian Lakes, as well as in the autumn of 1915 at Vilna, the same phenomena always made their appearance, even though the conditions of extent and character of the ground, as well as the main course of events, were in each case completely different. Forces which suffice to achieve victory and even to destroy strong sections of the enemy's forces prove inadequate for the attainment of the complete success which is desired. The individual armies of the enemy may be enveloped--as happened at Tannenburg and later at Hermannstadt, where the "Cannae" of Schlieffen was realised, but the envelopment of the whole host of the enemy is a very difficult matter. In order to accomplish it at the Marne, we should have required yet another army, disposed in echelon behind the right German wing, while on the East the possibility of any effective enveloping movement was very much restricted. The vast extent of their territory always made it possible for the Russians to effect a withdrawal. Their railway network, though of wide mesh, was extraordinarily favourable from a strategic point of view, and by its aid they were generally able to bring up reinforcements at the right time to any wing that was threatened, while, in the case of ourselves and our allies, our railway communications were not only very circuitous, but, when it came to a further advance, ceased altogether. In addition to this, with the extension of the Eastern theatre of war, a blow inflicted on one wing of the Russians could not have the same effect on the other sectors of their long front as would have been the case if it had been of less extent.

Hence break-through tactics, which Napoleon attempted several times on the restricted battlefields of his age, supported by powerful heavy artillery, once again asserted their importance. Instances of this were furnished at Gorlice, in the later battles in Galicia, as well as between the Bug and the Vistula, in the breaking of the Russian Narew front in the summer of 1915, and in the break-through at Tarnopol in 1917. Also the Serbian and above all the Roumanian campaigns furnished several similar instances. The preliminary condition of success was always a moral and tactical superiority on the side of the attacker, and a corresponding violence of mass effect. The fact that we did not possess this moral and tactical superiority in sufficient measure in the West has always relegated to the background the idea of breaking through the enemy front. What has to be done is not only on a comparatively limited front to break in upon the enemy with concentrated masses--these masses will immediately be exposed to outflanking on both sides--but to force in a more or less considerable part of the enemy front, and then to develop strategically the break-through which has succeeded tactically. The extent of the success will in every case depend upon the local conditions and the strategic situation.

The importance of envelopment, both strategic envelopment and tactical envelopment, of course remains very great. Clausewitz says[6]: "A complete victory requires an enveloping attack on a battle with an oblique front, for these two forms always give the result a decisive character." Moltke furnished proof of this at Königgrätz, Metz, and Sedan. Schlieffen, who made it his chief object to keep the desire for the annihilation of the enemy alive in the German army through the long period of peace, developed in his "Cannae" the conditions for a battle of annihilation on classical lines. Even if, as the World War has shown, his doctrines frequently have to be modified, when they are applied to conditions of very large scale, none the less this War too has furnished instances where the envelopment of a whole host might have been effected and would have had very far-reaching consequences. Such an opportunity was presented to our opponents on the Western front after the Battle of the Marne. By making use of their convenient and efficient railway network and their numerous columns of motor wagons, they might have hurled at the proper moment powerful forces against the right flank of the German army and thereby prevented us from establishing our positions on the Aisne and to the west of the Belgian frontier. Since, however, they had not achieved a tactical success at the Marne at all, they lacked the strength and the capacity for such an undertaking. They pressed their attack only in a frontal direction. The German forces at once resumed in part an offensive attitude, and by this means arrested the progress of the enemy forces opposed to them. They strengthened the right wing of their army, and were always able to oppose adequate forces to the striking movement of the French pursuing army when the latter at length (but too late) set itself in motion, and this even though the railway network in Belgium and North France had not yet been restored to anything like full efficiency.

After the Battle of the Marne, the War in the West assumed on the German side first of all the character of a defence accompanied by offensive tactics, and subsequently, after the attack at the Yser had proved unsuccessful and when further troops had to be conveyed to the East, was completely transformed at the end of November, 1914, into an entrenched war. It ought, however, to be realised that though in the World War entrenched fighting has gained such prevalence and importance, this is not necessarily a result of the highly developed technical science of our age, but first and foremost the result of the inability of our enemies to break through the German fronts in the East and the West. If the armies of the two contending parties had been equally efficient, it would have been impossible for us to maintain our positions for any length of time, in view of the overwhelming numerical superiority of the forces which were directed against ourselves and Austria-Hungary from all sides. It lay with our opponents with their vast numbers, when they had forced us to retreat, to give to the War once again the character of a war of movement. They did not succeed in doing so. On the other hand, the forces of the Central Powers were insufficient to enable them to push the offensive to any considerable extent beyond the permanent positions taken up on the Western front at the end of 1914 and on the Eastern front in the autumn of 1915, and on their side to pass once more to the war of movement. This was reserved in the further course of events for the Serbian and (a year later) the Roumanian theatres of war. In view of our central position, we were obliged, since we had not succeeded in breaking through at the Marne, to content ourselves with an "offensive with a limited goal," to use the words of Clausewitz. He says further: "A defence which is organised on conquered territory has a much more irritating character than one upon our own soil: The offensive principle is engrafted on it in a certain measure."[7] The course of the World War has quite confirmed this. But at the same time this view involves the admission that the maintenance of such a defence ought in itself to be considered as an important success. Apart from this offensive defensive, the only possibility for the Central Powers could be to anticipate the enemy's actions in particular cases, as was done by our army at Verdun and by the Austro-Hungarian army in the Venetian Alps; the initiative as a whole we were obliged to leave to the enemy. Consequently, we were driven to the tenacious, to a large extent passive, retention of our entrenched lines, and to their consolidation with the aid of every means furnished by the art of field-fortification.

According to the notions that prevailed up to that time, the possibility might have been considered, where our troops were suffering heavy losses as a result of holding on under exposure to the fire of the enemy's heaviest artillery and bomb-throwers, and where the latter had done destruction to our trenches, of allowing the enemy to break through, and then driving him back again by means of the reserves at the back of our lines. This procedure was, in fact, from the beginning employed several times with success at various sections of the front against bodies of the enemy forces which had broken through. To extend it systematically to larger sections of the front, and thereby on our side to resort to a certain extent to the methods of the war of movement, seemed to the Supreme Command for a long time inadvisable, in view of the limited forces and artillery at their disposition. Experience had, moreover, shown how difficult it is to straighten out salients which have once been formed on an entrenched front. Even when salients have been enveloped, they have, by the very nature of modern methods of fighting and effectiveness of weapons in entrenched warfare, been held both by ourselves and by our enemies, in so far as the nature of the ground made this possible.

The more and more insistent attempts of our enemies to prepare the way for their infantry by the mechanical power of bomb-throwers and heavy artillery led to a different method of defensive fighting. The German Army Report of the 17th of April, 1917, describes it briefly in the following words:

"In the presence of modern artillery fire, which flattens out positions and produces broad deep craters, rigid defence is no longer possible. The struggle is no longer for a line, but for a whole deeply echeloned fortified zone. So the contest for the foremost positions surges this way and that, with the aim, even if it involves the loss of implements of war, of saving the lives of the men, and at the same time of weakening the enemy by inflicting on him severe and sanguinary losses."

This procedure preserved the lives and at the same time the morale of the troops, who now no longer saw themselves to the same extent as hitherto exposed without means of defence to the devastating fire of the enemy. The enemy could be allowed to boast of his slight local successes, if only his attempts to break through were frustrated. It remained none the less a prerequisite condition of this new procedure that adequate reserves of troops for the counter-thrust, as well as munitions, should be at hand. Deficiencies in both these respects were revealed more than once in the defensive engagements of the years 1915 and 1916 on the Western front.

It did not seem advisable to leave large sections of the front open to the enemy with a view to subsequently meeting him in a great offensive engagement on the French or Belgian territory occupied by us, thereby giving the situation quite a different character from a strategic point of view. Such a counter-attack on a large scale would have involved the reconquest of the newly-organised enemy positions, and if the counter-attack did not effect a complete recovery, this method would in course of time have amounted to the surrender of larger and larger portions of the enemy territory occupied by our troops. To be sure, many of our positions exhibited serious defects, since their selection was not the result of forethought and a free choice; they were situated wherever our own or the enemy's attack had been brought to a standstill in the autumn of 1914. Moreover, quite apart from the moral factor, which in these days of extreme publicity has quite another significance than was formerly the case, and apart from the endeavours of the enemy Press to exploit for their own ends even our most trifling reverses, such reverses as were inevitable from time to time, the objects at stake were far too precious to justify us in yielding up large stretches of territory, even if it were only temporarily. We had to strive to turn to the best possible account the productive district of Northern France, with its wealth of industries.

The shifting back of portions of our front in the district of the Ancre, the Somme, and the Oise at the end of the winter of 1916-17 did not take place until the situation as a whole had been to a certain extent transformed, and after we had been able to prepare stronger and more favourable positions in the rear. This evacuation of the front line took the enemy more or less by surprise. Our skilfully executed withdrawal resulted in considerable losses to the enemy when they subsequently pressed forward, while we gained time as well as greater security and husbanded our forces. Moreover, it was only the most westward projections of our front which were concerned in this withdrawal.

According to Clausewitz, war must be subject to the one supreme law of decision by force of arms. In this sense did Frederick the Great, Napoleon, and Moltke conduct their operations. With them it was a question of the annihilation of the enemy's forces, not of the winning and keeping of provinces. If the entrenched battles of the present War had for their purpose the holding of ground that had been won, none the less the implied contradiction with the theories of the greatest generals of modern times is only apparent. In the World War it was a question of battle-fronts which we held and in contending for which our opponents sacrificed the blood of their troops, and not of a cordon of positions after the fashion of those of the eighteenth century. The entrenched lines of that time served principally to keep the enemy at a distance, and as far as possible to obviate a pitched battle. Considering the inadequacy of the means of attack at that time and of the old hired armies, as well as the inferior mobility and deficient driving force of a linear _ordre de bataille_ they frequently fulfilled their purpose.

When, however, war was dominated by the will of a powerful leader, it took on immediately quite a different aspect. Nevertheless it must not be overlooked that even Napoleon frequently advocates entrenched positions, and that he himself at times, when his troops had been brought to a standstill, had recourse to them, for instance in 1807 at the Passarge, and in the autumn of 1813, when, though his defence remained mobile, he constructed extensive temporary fortifications on the Elbe. Frederick the Great, too, finally adapted himself to a Bunzelwitz. Already at the conclusion of the campaign of 1758, he admitted[8] that to attack the enemy without having first secured for oneself a superiority as regards firearms would be much as if a mob armed with cudgels were to engage an armed military force; that it was necessary to adopt the Austrian system of a powerful artillery, however inconvenient this might be; and that lessons might be learnt from the enemy in regard to the skilful exploitation of the ground.

"The best infantry in the world," he said, "may in certain cases be thrown into disorder, when it has to contend against the enemy, his guns, and disadvantages of ground. Our own infantry, enfeebled and demoralised alike by victories and defeats, demand to be sparingly employed for difficult undertakings. One must be guided by a consideration of their intrinsic worth."

After the Seven Years' War, the King gave even more emphatic expression to these views in the military section of his _Politisches Testament vom Jahre 1768_. In this he says: "We must reckon upon the possibility of a mere contest for entrenched positions (_Postenkrieg_) with the Austrians"; and he says further:

"Formerly victories were won by the courage and strength of an army; now it is always the artillery that decides, and the skill of a general consists in bringing up his troops against the enemy without allowing them to be crushed before the beginning of the offensive proper."

Although the conduct of war at the time of Frederick the Great, being based upon entirely different political and economic conditions, was quite different from our conduct of war, none the less it engendered many phenomena, as is proved by the King's observations, which have been repeated in the present World War, though in a different form. In any case it is clear from the words of King Frederick that both during and after the Seven Years' War he was constantly at pains, pen in hand, to attain clearness with regard to the most important questions of the military art. We may well see in this an exhortation that we should apply to every innovation that is to be introduced the touchstone of the experiences of previous wars, if we desire to be preserved from one-sidedness.

Hence it would be wrong to maintain that, in the future, entrenched warfare must necessarily play such a dominant part as it has played in the present War. Even King Frederick speaks of an entrenched war against the Austrians only as a consequence of their skill in choosing favourable positions. That, even in his later years, he still conceded the chief importance to decision on the field of battle is evident from his plans for the Bavarian War of Succession, and in spite of the inaction which, as it turned out, marked the course of this armed demonstration--for it was really nothing else--here too he had based his chief hopes upon a "good battle" in Moravia.