The Great War

by Peter Hart

  The reaction of the German Chief of General Staff, General Helmuth von Moltke, to this unexpected French resurgence was interesting. He recognised it as a signpost to a fundamental change in the nature of warfare, marking a move away from wars fought between professional armies to a world in which whole nations took to arms. But his immediate reaction was fearsomely robust, in that he resolved to crush every scrap of resistance out of France, not just by beating her armies per se, but by eradicating the resources from which they could spring – in essence, he conceived of a war of extermination. When Paris fell, the French finally sued for peace but Moltke wanted to fight on, only to be over-ruled by Bismarck. Moltke would always regret what he saw as a missed opportunity to deal with the French threat once and for all. In the years that followed, as the French introduced conscription and rearmed, Moltke was all too aware that France would no longer fall easy victim.

  If war should break out no one can estimate its duration or see when it will end. The greatest powers of Europe, which are armed as never before, will fight each other. None can be annihilated so completely in one or two campaigns that it would declare itself vanquished and be compelled to accept hard conditions for peace without any chance, even after a year’s time, to renew the fight. Gentlemen, it might be a seven, or even a thirty years’ war – but woe to him who sets Europe alight and first throws the match into the powder-barrel!4

  General Helmuth von Moltke, Chief of General Staff, Imperial German Army

  Worse still, Moltke was well aware that Germany might have to fight France and Russia at the same time. It would clearly be difficult to defeat one before reserves had to be transferred to counter the offensive operations of the other. His war plans, with their emphasis on the strategic defensive, reflected this pessimistic approach, although he also planned for savage thrusts to weaken the early resolve of his opponents and bring them to the peace table.

  When General Alfred von Schlieffen took over as Chief of General Staff in 1892, he returned to the drawing board and commissioned plans for every conceivable eventuality: war with France; war with Russia; or war with both – a situation rendered a probability, rather than a possibility, by the removal of Bismarck. His numerous staff worked through the problems using a plethora of war game scenarios, field exercises, staff rides and feasibility studies. As Schlieffen estimated that in a war with both France and Russia the German forces would be outnumbered by around five to three, he sought to avoid a lengthy war in which his opponents’ big battalions would have the opportunity to press home their numerical advantage. This meant that, despite all the difficulties, Schlieffen was determined to seek a quick decision, or risk destroying Germany both militarily and economically.

  The temptation was to strike first at the far weaker Russian Army, which was still in the process of modernising. But the difficulty of forcing victory against the Russian hordes who could simply withdraw deep into Russia was acutely worrying – as Napoleon’s catastrophic retreat from Moscow in 1812 still cast its powerful shadow. Hence Schlieffen took the view that it was not possible to overwhelm Russia quickly. Gradually he was edging towards the idea of holding Russia to the east with a relatively small force while Germany launched a knock-out blow against France in the west. This in turn generated considerable military problems, for not only was the French Army a far more formidable opponent than the Russian Army, but the French had also established several modern fortresses behind the Franco-German border. These too seemed to militate against a quick German victory.

  Schlieffen’s solution was simple: he would go round the French fortress line. Violating the neutrality of Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg to drive into northern France and envelop the French armies, seeking a quick decisive battle to shatter the resistance of the French and allow Germany to dictate terms or to turn on Russia as required. At first this was a contingency plan, but as the German Army gained in strength so it was gradually adopted as the main war plan. The origins of the ‘Schlieffen Plan’ have been clouded by those who have rightly pointed out that it was trialled in many versions and constantly re-tweaked in the light of the latest intelligence and availability of troops. However, it was certainly never the static entity of popular imagination, but rather a mutating plan that had its origins in only one powerful strand of Schlieffen’s overall planning activities. The much-vaunted 1905 and 1906 Schlieffen memoranda, once popularly supposed to contain the essence of the plan, proved a sad disappointment when they were revealed to contain little of real operational detail. Indeed, in his last war game before his retirement in 1906, Schlieffen himself stood on the defensive and eschewed the kind of offensive manoeuvres which have been attributed to him; it is apparent that even at that late stage of his career, Schlieffen was still thinking, still experimenting with solutions to the dilemma inflicted on the German Army by the failures of German foreign policy.

  The Schlieffen Plan was above all of its time. In 1906, the Russians were still deep in the throes of despair after their defeat by the Japanese. Schlieffen believed that the Russian Army was in such poor condition that until it was fundamentally reformed it would not be capable of effective offensive operations. Yet the Russians would soon demonstrate a regenerative capacity that would utterly confound German hopes. Indeed, the ‘Great Programme’ of army reform commencing in 1913 promised to deliver a peacetime Russian Army some 2,200,000 strong by around 1918. This prospect of vastly augmented Russian military might would be at the heart of the conundrum bequeathed to Schlieffen’s successor as Chief of General Staff, General Helmuth von Moltke (the Younger – he was the nephew of von Moltke the Elder). Germany would face not just war on two fronts, but ultimately the daunting prospect of a huge modern Russian army rapidly mobilised on to the Russo-German border by means of its railways, newly financed thanks to substantial French investment. Moltke reviewed the problem, but failed to develop a coherent strategy to match Germany’s deteriorating position. It was apparent that Russia could not be attacked and beaten quickly, so the main thrust had to be against France. As it was unlikely that the French could be disposed of quickly by a direct attack across the Franco-German border, the Schlieffen Plan still offered some hope, which Moltke clung to in the absence of anything better. Whether the more resourceful Schlieffen would have been similarly constrained is a matter for conjecture.

  A theoretical memorandum or position paper is not the same as a practicable plan, and it was Moltke and his staff who drew up all the operational war plans. Moltke also made some important adjustments to reflect some of the changes in the tactical and political situation. Firstly, he was forced to strengthen the German forces held on the Franco-German border to counter the near inevitable French invasion of Alsace-Lorraine. Secondly, unwilling to add to the roster of Germany’s enemies, he decided to avoid invading Holland. Thirdly, he timetabled an early surprise attack on the strong Belgian Liège forts to ensure that they did not hold up the thrust through Belgium. Fourthly, he sought to make the alliance with Austria-Hungary more of a military reality. Just one of the eight mobilised German armies would be assigned to the Eastern Front, where it would need as much assistance from the Austro-Hungarian Army as possible if he was to hold that front while France was defeated. Moltke the Elder and Schlieffen had been very sceptical of the potential worth of the Austrian Army, but Moltke, who was more desperate, tried his best to incorporate it in his plans. He liaised with the Austrian Chief of General Staff, General Franz Conrad von Hötzendorf, to try to secure his full co-operation in holding back any early Russian attacks.

  Moltke’s other main concern was far more sinister. Fearful of the growing strength of Russia and France he wanted war as quickly as possible, before Germany’s situation relative to her enemies could deteriorate further. In the end, Germany would go to war borne up by the hope of a quick victory utilising the superior operational efficiency of her army before her enemies could properly mobilise their resources. When the opportunity arose, Moltke grasped at the chance for war. The irony
is that in his heart of hearts he always lacked faith in ultimate German victory.

  THE EARLY FRENCH PLANS immediately following the debacle of 1871 were, as one might expect, essentially defensive in character. A formal system of conscription was introduced to create a truly national army, while to safeguard their borders the French constructed an expensive chain of modern fortresses inside the new Franco-German frontier. The French Army also at least partially embraced modernisation, with the introduction of much of the burgeoning paraphernalia of war to enable it to try to match the German advances. Behind the scenes there was a long-term improvement of the logistical infrastructure of war, with particular attention paid to the railways for use in deploying troops quickly to the German borders. A more professional system of staff officers and a unified high command also began the process of welding together a coherent military doctrine.

  The alliance formed with Russia in 1892 opened up more offensive opportunities and French military strategy soon began to reflect the possibility of launching an offensive into the lost province of Alsace-Lorraine. The French staff officers worked through a wide selection of plans distinguished, with Gallic logic, by a sequence of Roman numerals. They were at least theoretically aware of the threat of a major German offensive swinging through northern France and Belgium – as had in fact been proposed by Schlieffen. Although many of the French high command could not readily countenance the concept of the Germans so brutally violating Belgian neutrality, their plans began to reflect that possibility; indeed, from 1906 they began to deploy more troops in the north. However, the French still did not have enough troops to be present in strength everywhere from Switzerland to the North Sea, so hard choices would have to be made. The man they chose to make them was General Joseph Joffre. Born into a rural background in 1852, Joffre had his first experience of active service while still an officer cadet at the siege of Paris during the Franco-Prussian War. Following this he served as an engineer officer in the French colonies of Indo-China and North Africa. Promotion followed and, in 1904, he was appointed as Director of Engineering, whereupon he demonstrated a mastery of administrative detail coupled with the drive to get things done – qualities that led to him being promoted rapidly to command a division, a corps and finally, in 1911, to Chief of General Staff with the associated role as Commander in Chief in the event of war. Untainted by specific political or religious affiliations he was relatively acceptable to all sides, while his reassuring stolidity of character meant he was regarded as a safe pair of hands.

  Joffre immediately began a thoroughgoing re-evaluation of strategy, taking into account the prevailing view that Britain would join the French in war with Germany and expressing a firm resolve to crush Germany and regain the lost provinces. These ideas were further bolstered by promises from the Russians that they could deploy 700,000–800,000 men for an offensive into East Prussia about two weeks after mobilisation. In view of the relative slowness of the Russian mobilisation process, it might well seem that the best option for France was to stand on the defensive until the Russians were up to full strength on Germany’s eastern borders. Unfortunately, by this time the French Army had been overwhelmed by a belief in the power of the offensive, as opposed to the defensive, approach. Military theorists proclaimed the moral superiority of the attack and postulated that new weapons systems would allow such a concentration of firepower on the defending troops that their will to resist would be broken. Tactics were considered as of nothing compared to the inspirational effects of élan that flowed through the bloodstream of every French poilu; highly motivated and well-led troops, fearing nothing, could surmount any obstacles by the sheer boldness of their assaults, hitting enemy defences before they knew what was happening and pressing home their attacks at the point of the bayonet. Such ideas were reflected in doctrinal statements to the effect that ‘Only the offensive yields positive results’. This was, however, a gross simplification of the complexities of modern warfare. While the offensive approach may indeed grant its initiator the ability to choose the place and time of attack, if due attention was not paid to the military situation it could also lead to crippling losses which would swiftly erode effective military capacity. Such misgivings were, however, not permissible in France’s pre-war frenzy extolling the power of the ‘offensive à l’outrance’.

  It was against this background that Joffre created of Plan XVII, the last revision of French strategy for what would be the Great War. This was not quite such a blind lunge for Alsace-Lorraine as has often been caricatured. Joffre had become convinced that the Germans would attack through Belgium, and indeed came to see it as a future battleground, but his civilian politician masters – mindful of the attitude of the British – wisely insisted on the proviso that Germany must have violated Belgian neutrality first. This uncertainty rather precluded the possibility of the main French offensive driving into Belgium and left Alsace-Lorraine as the main option. It was primarily a concentration plan which placed four armies along the German, Luxembourg and Belgian borders with another army held in reserve. Once in position they were expected to push into Alsace-Lorraine, but with the option of deploying two armies to counter German forces attacking through Belgium and northern France. As such it did not commit Joffre to any particular course of action. But the presumption was always that he would attack somewhere and that meanwhile the Russians would be attacking on the Eastern Front. Some of the extra men Joffre would need for his task were secured by the passing of the Three Year Law in 1913, which extended the service of every French conscript to three years. This meant that, although Germany had a population of approaching 60 million (some 20 million more than France), France’s longer term of conscription would allow for an army of equal size to the German Army. The French, like the Germans, thought in terms of a short war, although there was some inkling that an initial decisive series of battles might not be the end of the matter. It was estimated that, even if successful, it would take them six long months even to reach the Rhine, where the Germans might still be expected to put up a great deal of resistance. And of course the reverse would apply should things go badly for France. Yet little or nothing practical was done to prepare for a long war: the extant supplies of munitions were presumed sufficient and there was no concept of harnessing industry to the common cause.

  ONCE BRITAIN JOINED the Triple Entente the exigencies of alliance warfare meant that not only would she be required to shoulder most of its naval burdens, but she would also be expected to contribute a significant land force. The Royal Navy would secure the North Sea, English Channel and Atlantic, while the French Navy would take on the main role in the Mediterranean. But the French were also desperate for a British Expeditionary Force (BEF) to take its place in the line. The French hoped for six infantry divisions and a cavalry division within sixteen days of mobilisation, trivial forces in themselves in the huge armies massing for war, but a symbol of British involvement. Joffre planned to place them on the left of the French armies, therefore facing the right of the German armies, although its positioning was of no great significance. Early in a war the significance of the alliance with Britain lay in her naval contribution; nothing of consequence could be expected on land for more than a year and this was beyond the French strategic horizon. Of far greater importance to the French was the early Russian commitment of serious military forces to an assault on the Germans on the Eastern Front.

  ON THE EASTERN FRONT the Russians were well aware that the Germans intended to attack the French first and so would be wishing merely to stand fast in East Prussia. The question was how best to deploy the massed Russian armies in the crucial first month of the war. The Russian High Command had to bear in mind the configuration of the border between Russia and the Central Powers, which was in itself a problem. The last partition of Poland had left the huge salient of ‘Russian’ Poland thrusting some 230 miles deep into the Central Powers, wedged between the Austro-Hungarian Carpathian Mountains to the south and German East Prussia in the north. Th
ere were no naturally defensible borders; indeed, a logical military response would have been to evacuate the whole area. Such a withdrawal would of course not suit the French facing the main German offensives, who needed the Russians to exert the maximum pressure on their enemy. The Russians were aware of their obligations to the French, but their plans had to balance French needs with the requirement to face the forty divisions of the Austro-Hungarian Army, which had only the Serbian Army to contend with.

  In 1910 the Russians produced Plan 19, which boldly envisaged deploying most of their mobilised forces – fifty-three divisions – against Germany with just nineteen divisions left to face the Austrians facilitated by the withdrawal from Russian Poland to a more defensible shorter border. Opponents to the plan within the Russian High Command pointed out the considerable risks of Austrian offensive operations overwhelming the forces facing them and pictured mass cavalry intervention harassing the flanks and communications of the Russian forces deployed against the Germans. There were also political considerations as to the wisdom of evacuating Poland, which it might prove difficult to regain, especially given the doubtful adherence to the Russian state of many Poles. The result was a compromise with the Plan ‘A’ and ‘G’ variants of Plan 19. While ‘G’ presented a slightly modified version of the original plan to concentrate against Germany (forty-three divisions against Germany and thirty-one against Austria), ‘A’ was far more focussed on Austria-Hungary, with the bulk of the mobilised forces – forty-five divisions in the Third, Fourth and Fifth Armies – to face the Austrians while what remained would do their best to assist the French. Thus the Russian First and Second Armies, totalling twenty-nine divisions, would be launched against the nine divisions of the German Eighth Army in East Prussia. In the event it was Plan ‘A’ that was chosen.