The World Crisis

by Winston S. Churchill

  But General von François disobeyed these instructions and at great risk, yet truly measuring the quality of the enemy, ran out his cordon of posts and pickets along the Neidenburg-Willenberg road and thus entrapped the whole Russian centre. The credit of the victory belongs in large measure to General Hoffmann, but its glory must for ever be associated with General von François, who though commanding only a single corps acted with that rare alternation of prudence and audacity which is the characteristic of true soldierly genius, and who upon his justly founded convictions defied Ludendorff and gained for him a dazzling victory against his orders. That this opinion, harsh as it may seem to Ludendorff, has now been accepted in German military circles, may perhaps be inferred from the photograph of the Tannenberg decennial celebrations, in which François is accorded the place of honour, even Hindenburg himself, the President of the Republic, being proud to sit upon his right hand.

  The Battle of Tannenberg inaugurated the memorable partnership of Hindenburg and Ludendorff. Hindenburg in loyal and courtly phrasing has described it as a happy marriage. Ludendorff has given more definite and less graceful descriptions. It stands among the renowned associations of Great Captains in history. Nothing can rob it of its glamour. To avoid the constant repetition of these two names which will occur so often in our story, it will be a convenience to express the combination by the cabalistic symbol ‘HL’

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE FIRST MASURIAN LAKES

  The double battles of the Eighth German Army under Hindenburg and Ludendorff against the two superior armies of Samsonov and Rennenkampf are not only a military classic but an epitome of the art of war. One of our finest officers, General Ironside, has devoted an entire volume to the first thirty days in East Prussia which certainly no military student should neglect. Here our pages must be confined to a general account of the operations, placed in their relation to the whole European scene.

  By the night of September 1 the victors of Tannenberg were already turning to their new task; nor was there the slightest doubt what that task should be. Says Hoffmann laconically: ‘Samsonov’s army had been practically destroyed. Of his five-and-a-half Corps three-and-a-half were either dead or prisoners, the remaining about one-and-a-half Corps had to be sent back into the neighbourhood of Warsaw for re-formation. Our hands were free to act against Rennenkampf.’

  With fierce and confident hope the Germans made their plans. They were freed now from the anxieties of a converging attack by superior forces. Their problem was simplified. Many unknown factors had disappeared. They had tested the quality of their troops and organization in every kind of fighting against their foe. They knew that whether in attack or defence he was no match for them. Moreover, the two fresh army corps (Guard Reserve and XIth), so improvidently withdrawn from the German right wing in France, had arrived in East Prussia. Hindenburg and Ludendorff disposed of seventeen divisions (the original nine, the four auxiliary, and the four from France). This powerful force, braced by success, was entitled to feel itself superior to Rennenkampf’s army, whether that comprised twenty or twenty-four divisions.

  Nor was the method of setting about him far to seek. He must be attacked on his front from the sea to the lakes. While thus gripped, his flank must be turned and if possible his retreat cut off by a right-handed Northward movement through the line of the lakes. Here the immense strategic advantage of this line of water, marsh and German fortifications presents itself. The small fortress of Lötzen stood in the gap between the northern and southern lakes. Its resolute Commander had made no answer to a Russian summons to surrender but to fire upon, wound and capture the officer and trumpeter sent upon that audacious mission. The Russians, having overlooked in their plans for the invasion of East Prussia the need of a few heavy howitzers to reduce Lötzen, could do nothing against its permanent defences. Lötzen was therefore a bridge-head and a fatal sally-port through which the flank and communications of Rennenkampf’s army could be assailed. The gap, only a mile wide, was traversed by a good military road and by the railway-line to Lyck and beyond the Russian frontier. South of Lötzen the chain of lakes continued for another 30 miles to Johannisburg with a number of gaps between them defended by field works none of which had passed out of German hands during the crisis of Samsonov’s invasion. If the Germans could advance in force through the Lötzen and the other gaps between the lakes while Rennenkampf was held to his positions by a frontal attack, the capture or destruction of his entire army was a reasonable expectation.

  The point for decision was not the method but the relative strength to be assigned to the frontal and to the turning movements. It must be remembered that the turning movement as it progressed would expose first its right shoulder and later on its rear to the attack of any Russian forces in Warsaw or along the Narev. The remains of Samsonov’s army were not perhaps immediately formidable, but the Germans could not know what other resources the Russian Empire might not have marshalled in their great railway centre of Warsaw or behind their fortified river line. It would be necessary to ward off or delay such interventions until Rennenkampf was beaten. The shorter and sharper the operation, the less would be the risk. ‘HL’ decided to send eight divisions against Rennenkampf’s front, to provide five together with the two cavalry divisions for the turning movement through the gaps, and to use the remaining three to ward off the Russians from the south. There were, and are still, two opinions upon this distribution. François, to whom the leading rôle in the turning movement was confided, naturally and perhaps rightly pressed for an additional corps. But Hoffman points out that HL were not entitled to ignore the possibility that Rennenkampf himself might take the offensive with his great mass against any Germans on his front, and would in such circumstances have a superiority of more than two to one.

  Thus then it was settled. The XXth, XIth, 1st Reserve and Guard Reserve Corps moved against Rennenkampf’s front; the Ist and XVIIth Corps, and the 3rd Reserve division with the cavalry were assigned to the envelopment. It took four days to re-group the German forces in accordance with these orders, and on September 5 their general advance began.

  What meanwhile of Rennenkampf and his Russians? And what of Jilinski? Up till August 27 Jilinski still had a picture of his Second Army advancing northwards, but he felt uneasily that it required help from Rennenkampf. Late that day he had wired to him that German troops were being transferred from Rennenkampf’s front by rail and were strongly attacking Samsonov. ‘Co-operate,’ he said, ‘with the Second Army by moving your left flank as far as possible towards him.’ But Jilinski’s order displayed no disquietude about the Second Army and he seemed content with Rennenkampf’s movements of three Corps two moderate marches to the south-west. In the evening of the 29th at 7 p.m. a more urgent order arrived. ‘In view of the heavy fighting in the Second Army the C.-in-C. orders you to move two corps to its support. The cavalry should be sent forward to Allenstein,’ and at 11 p.m. ‘The Second Army has withdrawn,’—certainly no over-statement—’therefore the C.-in-C. orders the forward movement of the two corps to cease.’ And on the 30th: ‘General Samsonov has suffered a complete defeat and the enemy has now full liberty to turn against you. You must take every measure to interrupt the railway lines by which the enemy may move troops against you. Be careful that the enemy does not take measures against you through Lötzen.’

  Even now, however, the Commander of the North-West Front had not abandoned the idea of blockading Königsberg, and on September 1 his staff were still forming a reserve corps for this purpose. The reaction of Tannenberg upon Jilinski and Rennenkampf was the same. Both expected that the Second Russian Army would now have to bear the full weight of the German attack. Rennenkampf decided to withdraw all his forces and concentrate on the general line of Insterburg, and on September 2 he issued orders which placed the bulk of his army in an entrenched position with the sea on one flank and the lakes on the other. The next three days were occupied in fortifying this line, which but for the Lötzen gap and turning m
ovements farther to the south was secure. Acutely sensitive of the Lötzen danger, he assigned an entire Corps to watch its exits. Jilinski approved these arrangements. He ordered his First Army to ‘maintain its present position at all costs against superior forces of the enemy which may be brought against it.’ His Second Army which he was able to re-inforce by the XXIInd, the IIIrd Siberian, and the Ist Turkestan Corps—a new Army in themselves—was to cover the approaches to the lower Narev in such a way as to threaten, though somewhat remotely, the very turning movement which the Germans had designed.

  But on September 4 the two-and-a-half German divisions which under von der Goltz were to ward off Russian interventions from the southward advanced on Mlava and seized the town. Jilinski thereupon leapt to the conclusion that the Germans, instead of throwing their weight against Rennenkampf, were going to strike at Warsaw; and he now became anxious for Rennenkampf to take the offensive. He developed a grandiose scheme for another great concentric offensive in which his First Army, the remains of the Second and the three new Corps were to take part. This offensive was to begin on September 14.

  Such were the orders of General Jilinski on the night of September 4. They dealt largely in phantom armies and with an imaginary situation. They were brushed aside by reality. During the 5th, 6th and 7th the four German Corps constituting the main attack upon Rennenkampf advanced by easy marches and drew up before the Insterburg entrenchments. They did not begin their battle until the 9th. Meanwhile the turning movement had made great progress. François, with three divisions and a cavalry brigade, drove weak Russian forces out of Bialla on September 7; and at dawn the next day took the town of Arys, which like Bialla was held only by six Russian battalions and a few batteries of artillery. The two German divisions employed, fighting upon their own peace-time training ground, knowing every yard, quickly routed these detachments; and thereupon François turned due north with his own Ist Corps towards Rennenkampf’s communications. He sent his third division to capture Lyck in order still further to widen the envelopment.

  At the same time Mackensen and the XVIIth Corps had marched through the Lötzen gap and deployed beyond it. Here they encountered the Russian IInd Corps drawn up to receive them, and a serious engagement began. During the 8th the Russians stopped the gap. They were strongly entrenched between various lakes, and no local means could be found of turning their flanks. The two German cavalry divisions which were to have passed the gap after the XVIIth Corps, found themselves hopelessly blocked by its transport. Two additional Russian divisions arrived during the day, and when darkness fell the Russian front was everywhere secure.

  September 9 was a day of general battle. Hindenburg with four Corps attacked the Insterburg line. The XVIIth Corps strove to get its shoulder through the Lötzen gap. The Russians withstood them all stubbornly. The deep trenches they had now constructed gave them protection from the German artillery. They were not blown out of them as Samsonov’s left flank guard had been from its shallow ditches on the morrow of Tannenberg. Enough Russians were left alive after the bombardments to arrest the infantry attacks; and the Germans had not the ammunition for the pulverizations customary upon the Western Front. Indeed the night of the 9th closed with the German forces everywhere engaged and the Russian front everywhere intact.

  But nothing could stand against the turning movement from the south. François had played a part on this day as decisively and brilliantly successful as at Tannenberg. At day-break (3.30 a.m.) on the 9th his two indefatigable divisions broke upon the left and rear of the Russians resisting the XVIIth Corps and rolled, crumpled and scooped them up. The whole Russian line opposite the Lötzen gap broke into confusion. The best part of four divisions, hard-fought in front, turned in flank and attacked in rear, were routed and fled the field leaving sixty guns, 5,000 prisoners and all their impedimenta in François’ hands. Hard indeed, cruel and unfair, are those malignant turns of war by which events far beyond their view and utterly outside their control rob brave soldiers of all the fruits of their sacrifices and their success. General Ironside has calculated that François’ two divisions had covered 77 miles in four days, with deployments and fighting on two of them. They therefore deserved at least some of the rewards which fell into their hands.

  During these events François’ third division had in a combat of equal strength defeated the Russians in Lyck. The flank of Rennenkampf’s left army was now turned, and two German Corps with two cavalry divisions had only to march steadily northward through Gumbinnen, upon Stallupönen or Vilkoviski, to cut off the retreat. Thus ended for the day the fierce and bloody fighting in East Prussia of September 9.

  But now Rennenkampf acted with desperate vigour. Without troubling to inform Jilinski, he resolved to fly while time remained. He fled and he flew. No sooner had the news of the disaster to his troops in front of the Lötzen reached his Headquarters than he issued orders for the immediate general retreat of his whole army, covered by the counter-attack of two divisions. ‘It was,’ says General Ironside, ‘most gallantly executed by the 40th division of the IVth and the 26th division of the IInd Corps. It was perfectly successful in its purpose.’ This counter-attack occupied September 10. The German XXth Corps was brought to a complete standstill with surprising losses. It staggered before the blow. It was forty-eight hours before it could set itself again in motion. Russian military annals should not forget this feat of arms. Under its audacious protection Rennenkampf and the Russian First Army set out for home. Fast they went and faster still. Due east, back again along the track they had covered three weeks before in such overweening hope. Every risk was run in order to escape. Divisions marched parallel on either side of a single road, occupied by interminable columns of transport. They marched all night, they marched all day and all the next night and on still. The main bulk of the army actually covered 55 miles in 50 hours while still remaining in the ranks. On still they marched or stumbled and staggered away from the foe whose art was more terrible even than his flaming sword.

  But none of this wise promptitude and speed would have availed the Russian army if François and Mackensen had been allowed to march in their original direction. They must have cut in upon the line of retreat between Gumbinnen and Vilkoviski and broken everything into chaos. Speed in flight was vital; but by itself it would not have gained salvation. It was the counter-attack of the two brave divisions, nameless men and commanders unnoticed by history, who saved the army. They left their mark upon the German XXth Corps. They made a more important impression upon Ludendorff’s mind. This great soldier and genius in whom so many fine qualities were embodied suffered from the very liveliness of his own perceptions. Dwelling at the heart of the plan, receiving and reacting to all the events and news, true or false, which flowed in from minute to minute, Ludendorff sustained a sinister impression from the Russian counter-attack. Instead of letting Mackensen and François swoop out north-eastward, he pulled his right hand in for close participation in the battle which he expected to develop around Darkehmen on the 10th. Thus as the 10th wore on after the sun had climbed high in the heavens, and the long columns of Mackensen and François were streaming northwards to deploy upon the tactical flank of the Russian Insterburg position, it became obvious they were clutching only at the skirts of a Russian retreat or even indeed at the vacant air.

  By the night of the 10th the chance of interception had vanished. Nothing remained but a stern chase, and in this the Russians had even a greater incentive to speed than their ravening pursuers. After the 13th the German pursuit slackened, and the enormous mass of Russian troops and vehicles, nearly choked by a block in Stallupönen, streamed eastward and homeward by every route, track and footpath. The last fighting was at Vilkoviski. Here the Russian rearguard had to stand at bay to gain a few more hours for the masses in rear to liquidate themselves. Rennenkampf decided, perhaps rightly, that nothing should be done to extricate the rearguard. They fought to the end and were destroyed. But with a loss of 45,000 prisoners, about 200 guns a
nd perhaps 100,000 casualties, Rennenkampf’s army escaped to the Niemen from the steel jaws which had already devoured Samsonov.

  For nearly a week Jilinski had been issuing orders to the void. The Germans, who read on the wireless with almost hourly punctuality his mental excursions, were baffled by the flood of secret matters imparted to them. It was impossible for them to learn any more from the orders of the Russian High Command, even when laid in text before them, since these had now ceased to have any contact with reality. It sounds magnificent to have the command of the Russian North-West Front; to poise there high at the summit, moving a million men and the pieces of a gigantic chess-board. But what mental torture could exceed the measure meted out to Jilinski as he sat each day during this fatal month at his desk in Bialystok. His two Army Commanders were famous national warriors with wide freedom of action. The orders which he could rightly issue were broad and few and far between. The information which reached him was voluminous when little was happening, and scanty or nil when supreme events were in progress. Jilinski had given his lifetime to the military service and was esteemed a soldier of the highest professional skill. In thirty days this wonderful chance of his had flared up in utter catastrophe. There he sat at the same desk in the same room with the same ceremony and decorum around him, a failure, a byword in history, a cause of his country’s undoing—all because he had sent telegrams from time to time as was his duty, and events had belied these telegrams. There were the maps, there were the telegrams, there was the quiet room, there was the horrible disaster. And this was the glamour of a high Command—almost the highest—in modern war! This was what was supposed to equal the opportunities and experiences of the great Commanders of history. What a swindle, what a mockery! They at least rode their horses in the battle smoke and shared the perils of the soldiers they actually led. But here all around were only the maps and the jiggling flags, the counterfoils of telegrams, all read by the enemy, and incoming disconnected tidings of ruin, and glum staff officers slouching in with more.