World War I
Encyclopaedia Britannica
Overview
1914-18
also called First World War, or Great War
(1914–18)
International conflict between the Central Powers—Germany,
Austria-Hungary, and Turkey—and the Allied Powers—mainly France,
Britain, Russia, Italy, Japan, and (from 1917) the U.S.
After a Serbian nationalist assassinated Archduke Francis Ferdinand
of Austria in June 1914, a chain of threats and mobilizations resulted
in a general war between the antagonists by mid-August. Prepared to
fight a war on two fronts, based on the Schlieffen Plan, Germany first
swept through neutral Belgium and invaded France. After the First Battle
of the Marne (1914), the Allied defensive lines were stabilized in
France, and a war of attrition began. Fought from lines of trenches and
supported by modern artillery and machine guns, infantry assaults gained
little ground and were enormously costly in human life, especially at
the Battles of Verdun and the Somme (1916). On the Eastern Front,
Russian forces initially drove deep into East Prussia and German Poland
(1914) but were stopped by German and Austrian forces at the Battle of
Tannenberg and forced back into Russia (1915). After several offensives,
the Russian army failed to break through the German defensive lines.
Russia’s poor performance and enormous losses caused widespread domestic
discontent that led to the Russian Revolution of 1917. Other fronts in
the war included the Dardanelles Campaign, in which British and Dominion
forces were unsuccessful against Turkey; the Caucasus and Iran (Persia),
where Russia fought Turkey; Mesopotamia and Egypt, where British forces
fought the Turks; and northern Italy, where Italian and Austrian troops
fought the costly Battles of the Isonzo. At sea, the German and British
fleets fought the inconclusive Battle of Jutland, and Germany’s use of
the submarine against neutral shipping eventually brought the U.S. into
the war in 1917. Though Russia’s armistice with Germany in December 1917
released German troops to fight on the Western Front, the Allies were
reinforced by U.S. troops in early 1918. Germany’s unsuccessful
offensive in the Second Battle of the Marne was countered by the Allies’
steady advance, which recovered most of France and Belgium by October
1918 and led to the November Armistice. Total casualties were estimated
at 10 million dead, 21 million wounded, and 7.7 million missing or
imprisoned. See also Battles of Caporetto and Ypres; Fourteen Points;
Lusitania; Paris Peace Conference; Treaties of Brest-Litovsk, Neuilly,
Saint-Germain, Sèvres, Trianon, and Versailles; Edmund H.H. Allenby,
Ferdinand Foch, John French, Douglas Haig, Paul von Hindenburg,
Joseph-Jacques-Césaire Joffre, Erich Ludendorff, John Pershing.
Main
1914-18
also called First World War, or Great War
an international conflict that in 1914–18 embroiled most of the
nations of Europe along with Russia, the United States, the Middle East,
and other regions. The war pitted the Central Powers—mainly Germany,
Austria-Hungary, and Turkey—against the Allies—mainly France, Great
Britain, Russia, Italy, Japan, and, from 1917, the United States. It
ended with the defeat of the Central Powers. The war was virtually
unprecedented in the slaughter, carnage, and destruction it caused.
World War I was one of the great watersheds of 20th-century
geopolitical history. It led to the fall of four great imperial
dynasties (in Germany, Russia, Austria-Hungary, and Turkey), resulted in
the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, and, in its destabilization of
European society, laid the groundwork for World War II. See the video.
The outbreak of war
With Serbia already much aggrandized by the two Balkan Wars
(1912–13, 1913), Serbian nationalists turned their attention back to the
idea of “liberating” the South Slavs of Austria-Hungary. Colonel
Dragutin Dimitrijević, head of Serbia’s military intelligence, was also,
under the alias “Apis,” head of the secret society Union or Death,
pledged to the pursuit of this pan-Serbian ambition. Believing that the
Serbs’ cause would be served by the death of the Austrian archduke
Francis Ferdinand, heir presumptive to the Austrian emperor Francis
Joseph, and learning that the Archduke was about to visit Bosnia on a
tour of military inspection, Apis plotted his assassination. Nikola
Pašić, the Serbian prime minister and an enemy of Apis, heard of the
plot and warned the Austrian government of it, but his message was too
cautiously worded to be understood.
At 11:15 am, on June 28, 1914, in the Bosnian capital, Sarajevo,
Francis Ferdinand and his morganatic wife, Sophie, duchess of Hohenberg,
were shot dead by a Bosnian Serb, Gavrilo Princip.
The chief of the Austro-Hungarian general staff, Franz, Graf Conrad
von Hötzendorf, and the foreign minister, Leopold, Graf von Berchtold,
saw the crime as the occasion for measures to humiliate Serbia and so to
enhance Austria-Hungary’s prestige in the Balkans; and Conrad had
already (October 1913) been assured by William II of Germany’s support
if Austria-Hungary should start a preventive war against Serbia. This
assurance was confirmed in the week following the assassination, before
William, on July 6, set off upon his annual cruise to the North Cape,
off Norway.
The Austrians decided to present an unacceptable ultimatum to Serbia
and then to declare war, relying on Germany to deter Russia from
intervention. Though the terms of the ultimatum were finally approved on
July 19, its delivery was postponed to the evening of July 23, since by
that time the French president, Raymond Poincaré, and his premier, René
Viviani, who had set off on a state visit to Russia on July 15, would be
on their way home and therefore unable to concert an immediate reaction
with their Russian allies. When the delivery was announced, on July 24,
Russia declared that Austria-Hungary must not be allowed to crush
Serbia.
Serbia replied to the ultimatum on July 25, accepting most of its
demands but protesting against two of them, namely, that Serbian
officials (unnamed) should be dismissed at Austria-Hungary’s behest and
that Austro-Hungarian officials should take part, on Serbian soil, in
proceedings against organizations hostile to Austria-Hungary. Though
Serbia offered to submit the issue to international arbitration,
Austria-Hungary promptly severed diplomatic relations and ordered
partial mobilization.
Home from his cruise on July 27, William learned on July 28 how
Serbia had replied to the ultimatum. At once he instructed the German
Foreign Office to tell Austria-Hungary that there was no longer any
justification for war and that it should content itself with a temporary
occupation of Belgrade. But, meanwhile, the German Foreign Office had
been giving such encouragement to Berchtold that already on July 27 he
had persuaded Francis Joseph to authorize war against Serbia. War was,
in fact, declared on July 28, and Austro-Hungarian artillery began to
bombard Belgrade the next day. Russia then ordered partial mobilization
against Austria-Hungary; and on July 30, when Austria-Hungary was
riposting conventionally with an order of mobilization on its Russian
frontier, Russia ordered general mobilization. Germany, which since July
28 had still been hoping, in disregard of earlier warning hints from
Great Britain, that Austria-Hungary’s war against Serbia could be
“localized” to the Balkans, was now disillusioned insofar as eastern
Europe was concerned. On July 31 Germany sent a 24-hour ultimatum
requiring Russia to halt its mobilization and an 18-hour ultimatum
requiring France to promise neutrality in the event of war between
Russia and Germany.
Both Russia and France predictably ignored these demands. On August
1, Germany ordered general mobilization and declared war against Russia,
and France likewise ordered general mobilization. The next day, Germany
sent troops into Luxembourg and demanded from Belgium free passage for
German troops across its neutral territory. On August 3 Germany declared
war against France.
In the night of August 3–4 German forces invaded Belgium. Thereupon,
Great Britain, which had no concern with Serbia and no express
obligation to fight either for Russia or for France but was expressly
committed to defend Belgium, on August 4 declared war against Germany.
Austria-Hungary declared war against Russia on August 5; Serbia
against Germany on August 6; Montenegro against Austria-Hungary on
August 7 and against Germany on August 12; France and Great Britain
against Austria-Hungary on August 10 and on August 12, respectively;
Japan against Germany on August 23; Austria-Hungary against Japan on
August 25 and against Belgium on August 28.
Romania had renewed its secret anti-Russian alliance of 1883 with the
Central Powers on Feb. 26, 1914, but now chose to remain neutral. Italy
had confirmed the Triple Alliance on Dec. 7, 1912, but could now
propound formal arguments for disregarding it: first, Italy was not
obliged to support its allies in a war of aggression; second, the
original treaty of 1882 had stated expressly that the alliance was not
against England.
On Sept. 5, 1914, Russia, France, and Great Britain concluded the
Treaty of London, each promising not to make a separate peace with the
Central Powers. Thenceforth, they could be called the Allied, or
Entente, Powers, or simply the Allies.
The outbreak of war in August 1914 was generally greeted with
confidence and jubilation by the peoples of Europe, among whom it
inspired a wave of patriotic feeling and celebration. Few people
imagined how long or how disastrous a war between the great nations of
Europe could be, and most believed that their country’s side would be
victorious within a matter of months. The war was welcomed either
patriotically, as a defensive one imposed by national necessity, or
idealistically, as one for upholding right against might, the sanctity
of treaties, and international morality.
Forces and resources of the combatant nations in 1914
When war broke out the Allied Powers possessed greater overall
demographic, industrial, and military resources than the Central Powers
and enjoyed easier access to the oceans for trade with neutral
countries, particularly with the United States. Table 1 shows the
population, steel production, and armed strengths of the two rival
coalitions in 1914.
| Strength of the belligerents, Aug. 4,
1914 |
| population (in millions) |
115.2 |
265.5 |
| steel production (in millions of metric
tons) |
17.0 |
15.3 |
| army divisions available for
mobilization in August 1914 |
146 |
212 |
| modern battleships |
20 |
39 |
|
|
All the initial belligerents in World War I were self-sufficient in food
except Great Britain and Germany. Great Britain’s industrial
establishment was slightly superior to Germany’s (17 percent of world
trade in 1913 as compared with 12 percent for Germany), but Germany’s
diversified chemical industry facilitated the production of ersatz, or
substitute, materials, which compensated for the worst shortages ensuing
from the British wartime blockade. The German chemist Fritz Haber was
already developing a process for the fixation of nitrogen from air; this
process made Germany self-sufficient in explosives and thus no longer
dependent on imports of nitrates from Chile.
Of all the initial belligerent nations, only Great Britain had a
volunteer army, and this was quite small at the start of the war. The
other nations had much larger conscript armies that required three to
four years of service from able-bodied males of military age, to be
followed by several years in reserve formations. Military strength on
land was counted in terms of divisions composed of 12,000–20,000
officers and men. Two or more divisions made up an army corps, and two
or more corps made up an army. An army could thus comprise anywhere from
50,000 to 250,000 men.
| Land forces of the belligerents, Aug.
4, 1914 |
| Germany |
98 (8) |
27 Landwehr brigades |
1,900,000 |
| Austria-Hungary |
48 (6) |
|
450,000 |
| Russia |
102 (6) |
|
1,400,000 |
| France |
72 (5) |
|
1,290,000 |
| Serbia |
11 (3) |
|
190,000 |
| Belgium |
7 (1) |
69,000 fortress troops |
186,000 |
| Great Britain |
6 (1) |
14 territorial divisions* |
120,000 |
| |
|
|
The higher state of discipline, training, leadership, and armament of
the German Army reduced the importance of the initial numerical
inferiority of the armies of the Central Powers. Because of the
comparative slowness of mobilization, poor higher leadership, and lower
scale of armament of the Russian armies, there was an approximate
balance of forces between the Central Powers and the Allies in August
1914 that prevented either side from gaining a quick victory.
Germany and Austria also enjoyed the advantage of “interior lines of
communication,” which enabled them to send their forces to critical
points on the battlefronts by the shortest route. According to one
estimate, Germany’s railway network made it possible to move eight
divisions simultaneously from the Western Front to the Eastern Front in
four and a half days.
Even greater in importance was the advantage that Germany derived
from its strong military traditions and its cadre of highly efficient
and disciplined regular officers. Skilled in directing a war of movement
and quick to exploit the advantages of flank attacks, German senior
officers were to prove generally more capable than their Allied
counterparts at directing the operations of large troop formations.
Sea power was largely reckoned in terms of capital ships, or
dreadnought battleships and battle cruisers having extremely large guns.
Despite intensive competition from the Germans, the British had
maintained their superiority in numbers, with the result that, in
capital ships, the Allies had an almost two-to-one advantage over the
Central Powers. Table 3 compares the strength of the two principal
rivals at sea, Great Britain and Germany.
| British and German naval strength,
August 1914 |
| dreadnought battleships |
20 |
14 |
| battle cruisers |
9 |
4 |
| pre-dreadnought battleships |
39 |
22 |
| armoured cruisers |
34 |
9 |
| cruisers |
64 |
41 |
| destroyers |
301* |
144 |
| submarines |
65 |
28 |
| |
|
|
The numerical superiority of the British Navy, however, was offset by
the technological lead of the German Navy in many categories, such as
range-finding equipment, magazine protection, searchlights, torpedoes,
and mines. Great Britain relied on the Royal Navy not only to ensure
necessary imports of food and other supplies in wartime but also to
sever the Central Powers’ access to the markets of the world. With
superior numbers of warships, Great Britain could impose a blockade that
gradually weakened Germany by preventing imports from overseas.
Technology of war in 1914
The planning and conduct of war in 1914 were crucially influenced by
the invention of new weapons and the improvement of existing types since
the Franco-German War of 1870–71. The chief developments of the
intervening period had been the machine gun and the rapid-fire field
artillery gun. The modern machine gun, which had been developed in the
1880s and ’90s, was a reliable belt-fed gun capable of sustained rates
of extremely rapid fire; it could fire 600 bullets per minute with a
range of more than 1,000 yards (900 metres). In the realm of field
artillery, the period leading up to the war saw the introduction of
improved breech-loading mechanisms and brakes. Without a brake or recoil
mechanism, a gun lurched out of position during firing and had to be
re-aimed after each round. The new improvements were epitomized in the
French 75-millimetre field gun; it remained motionless during firing,
and it was not necessary to readjust the aim in order to bring sustained
fire on a target. Machine guns and rapid-firing artillery, when used in
combination with trenches and barbed-wire emplacements, gave a decided
advantage to the defense, since these weapons’ rapid and sustained
firepower could decimate a frontal assault by either infantry or
cavalry. See the video.
There was a considerable disparity in 1914 between the deadly
effectiveness of modern armaments and the doctrinal teachings of some
armies. The South African War and the Russo-Japanese War had revealed
the futility of frontal infantry or cavalry attacks on prepared
positions when unaccompanied by surprise, but few military leaders
foresaw that the machine gun and the rapid-firing field gun would force
armies into trenches in order to survive. Instead, war was looked upon
by many leaders in 1914 as a contest of national wills, spirit, and
courage. A prime example of this attitude was the French Army, which was
dominated by the doctrine of the offensive. French military doctrine
called for headlong bayonet charges of French infantrymen against the
German rifles, machine guns, and artillery. German military thinking,
under the influence of Alfred, Graf von Schlieffen, sought, unlike the
French, to avoid frontal assaults but rather to achieve an early
decision by deep flanking attacks; and at the same time to make use of
reserve divisions alongside regular formations from the outset of war.
The Germans paid greater attention to training their officers in
defensive tactics using machine guns, barbed wire, and fortifications.
The initial stages of the war
Initial strategies
The Schlieffen Plan
Years before 1914, successive chiefs of the German general staff had
been foreseeing Germany’s having to fight a war on two fronts at the
same time, against Russia in the east and France in the west, whose
combined strength was numerically superior to the Central Powers’. The
elder Helmuth von Moltke, chief of the German general staff from 1858 to
1888, decided that Germany should stay at first on the defensive in the
west and deal a crippling blow to Russia’s advanced forces before
turning to counterattack the French advance. His immediate successor,
Alfred von Waldersee, also believed in staying on the defensive in the
west. Alfred, Graf von Schlieffen, who served as chief of the German
general staff from 1891 to 1905, took a contrary view, and it was the
plan he developed that was to guide Germany’s initial wartime strategy.
Schlieffen realized that on the outbreak of war Russia would need six
full weeks to mobilize and assemble its vast armies, given the immense
Russian countryside and population, the sparsity of the rail network,
and the inefficiency of the government bureaucracy. Taking advantage of
this fact, Schlieffen planned to initially adopt a purely defensive
posture on the Eastern Front with a minimal number of troops facing
Russia’s slowly gathering armies. Germany would instead concentrate
almost all of its troops in the west against France and would seek to
bypass France’s frontier fortifications by an offensive through neutral
Belgium to the north. This offensive would sweep westward and then
southward through the heart of northern France, capturing the capital
and knocking that country out of the war within a few weeks. Having
gained security in the west, Germany would then shift its troops to the
east and destroy the Russian menace with a similar concentration of
forces.
By the time of his retirement in 1905, Schlieffen had elaborated a
plan for a great wheeling movement of the right (northern) wing of the
German armies not only through central Belgium but also, in order to
bypass the Belgian fortresses of Liège and Namur in the Meuse Valley,
through the southernmost part of The Netherlands. With their right wing
entering France near Lille, the Germans would continue to wheel westward
until they were near the English Channel; they would then turn southward
so as to sever the French armies’ line of retreat from France’s eastern
frontier to the south; and the outermost arc of the wheel would sweep
southward west of Paris, in order to avoid exposing the German right
flank to a counterstroke launched from the city’s outskirts. If the
Schlieffen Plan succeeded, Germany’s armies would simultaneously
encircle the French Army from the north, overrun all of northeastern
France, and capture Paris, thus forcing France into a humiliating
surrender. The large wheeling movement that the plan envisaged required
correspondingly large forces for its execution, in view of the need to
keep up the numerical strength of the long-stretched marching line and
the need to leave adequate detachments on guard over the Belgian
fortresses that had been bypassed. Accordingly, Schlieffen allocated
nearly seven-eighths of Germany’s available troop strength to the
execution of the wheeling movement by the right and centre wings,
leaving only one-eighth to face a possible French offensive on Germany’s
western frontier. Thus, the maximum of strength was allocated to the
wheel’s edge—that is, to the right. Schlieffen’s plan was observed by
the younger Helmuth von Moltke, who became chief of the general staff in
1906. Moltke was still in office when war broke out in 1914.
Eastern Front strategy, 1914
Russian Poland, the westernmost part of the Russian Empire, was a
thick tongue of land enclosed to the north by East Prussia, to the west
by German Poland (Poznania) and by Silesia, and to the south by Austrian
Poland (Galicia). It was thus obviously exposed to a two-pronged
invasion by the Central Powers; but the Germans, apart from their grand
strategy of crushing France before attempting anything against Russia,
took note of the poverty of Russian Poland’s transportation network and
so were disinclined to overrun that vulnerable area prematurely.
Austria-Hungary, however, whose frontier with Russia lay much farther
east than Germany’s and who was moreover afraid of disaffection among
the Slav minorities, urged some immediate action to forestall a Russian
offensive. Moltke therefore agreed to the Austrian general staff’s
suggestion for a northeastward thrust by the Austrian Army into Russian
Poland—the more readily because it would occupy the Russians during the
crisis in France.
The Russians, for their part, would have preferred to concentrate
their immediately available forces against Austria and to leave Germany
undisturbed until their mobilization should have been completed. The
French were anxious to relieve the German pressure against themselves,
however, and so they persuaded the Russians to undertake an offensive
involving two armies against the Germans in East Prussia simultaneously
with one involving four armies against the Austrians in Galicia. The
Russian Army, whose proverbial slowness and unwieldy organization
dictated a cautious strategy, thus undertook an extra offensive against
East Prussia that only an army of high mobility and tight organization
could have hoped to execute successfully.
The strategy of the Western Allies, 1914
For some 30 years after 1870, considering the likelihood of another
German war, the French high command had subscribed to the strategy of an
initial defensive to be followed by a counterstroke against the expected
invasion: a great system of fortresses was created on the frontier, but
gaps were left in order to “canalize” the German attack. France’s
alliance with Russia and its entente with Great Britain, however,
encouraged a reversal of plan, and after the turn of the century a new
school of military thinkers began to argue for an offensive strategy.
The advocates of the offensive à l’outrance (“to the utmost”) gained
control of the French military machine, and in 1911 a spokesman of this
school, General J.-J.-C. Joffre, was designated chief of the general
staff. He sponsored the notorious Plan XVII, with which France went to
war in 1914.
Plan XVII gravely underestimated the strength that the Germans would
deploy against France. Accepting the possibility that the Germans might
employ their reserve troops along with regular troops at the outset,
Plan XVII estimated the strength of the German Army in the west at a
possible maximum of 68 infantry divisions. The Germans actually deployed
the equivalent of 83 1/2 divisions, counting Landwehr (reserve troops)
and Ersatz (low-grade substitute troops) divisions. But French military
opinion ignored or doubted this possibility; and during the war’s
crucial opening days, when the rival armies were concentrating and
moving forward, the French Intelligence counted only Germany’s regular
divisions in its estimates of the enemy strength. This was a serious
miscalculation. Plan XVII also miscalculated the direction and scope of
the coming onslaught: though it foresaw an invasion through Belgium, it
assumed that the Germans would take the route through the Ardennes,
thereby exposing their communications to attack. Basing itself on the
idea of an immediate and general offensive, Plan XVII called for a
French thrust toward the Saar into Lorraine by the 1st and 2nd armies,
while on the French left (the north) the 3rd and 5th armies, facing Metz
and the Ardennes, respectively, stood ready either to launch an
offensive between Metz and Thionville or to strike from the north at the
flank of any German drive through the Ardennes. When war broke out, it
was taken for granted that the small British Expeditionary Force (BEF)
under Sir John French should be used as an adjunct to France’s forces,
more or less as the French might see fit. It is clearly evident that the
French were oblivious to the gigantic German offensive that was being
aimed at their left (northern) wing.
The war in the west, 1914
The German invasion
For the smooth working of their plan for the invasion of France, the
Germans had preliminarily to reduce the ring fortress of Liège, which
commanded the route prescribed for their 1st and 2nd armies and which
was the foremost stronghold of the Belgian defenses. German troops
crossed the frontier into Belgium on the morning of August 4. Thanks to
the resolution of a middle-aged staff officer, Erich Ludendorff, a
German brigade occupied the town of Liège itself in the night of August
5–6 and the citadel on August 7; but the surrounding forts held out
stubbornly until the Germans brought their heavy howitzers into action
against them on August 12. These 420-millimetre siege guns proved too
formidable for the forts, which one by one succumbed. The vanguard of
the German invasion was already pressing the Belgian field army between
the Gete River and Brussels, when the last of the Liège forts fell on
August 16. The Belgians then withdrew northward to the entrenched camp
of Antwerp. On August 20 the German 1st Army entered Brussels while the
2nd Army appeared before Namur, the one remaining fortress barring the
Meuse route into France.
The initial clashes between the French and German armies along the
Franco-German and Franco-Belgian frontiers are collectively known as the
Battle of the Frontiers. This group of engagements, which lasted from
August 14 until the beginning of the First Battle of the Marne on
September 6, was to be the largest battle of the war and was perhaps the
largest battle in human history up to that time, given the fact that a
total of more than 2,000,000 troops were involved.
The planned French thrust into Lorraine, totaling 19 divisions,
started on August 14 but was shattered by the German 6th and 7th armies
in the Battle of Morhange-Sarrebourg (August 20–22). Yet this abortive
French offensive had an indirect effect on the German plan. For when the
French attack in Lorraine developed, Moltke was tempted momentarily to
postpone the right-wing sweep and instead to seek a victory in Lorraine.
This fleeting impulse led him to divert to Lorraine the six newly formed
Ersatz divisions that had been intended to increase the weight of his
right wing. This was the first of several impromptu decisions by Moltke
that were to fatally impair the execution of the Schlieffen Plan.
Meanwhile, the German imperial princes who commanded armies on the
Germans’ left (southern) wing in Lorraine were proving unwilling to
forfeit their opportunity for personal glory. Crown Prince Rupert of
Bavaria on August 20 ordered his 6th Army to counterattack instead of
continuing to fall back before the French advance as planned, and Crown
Prince William of Germany ordered his 5th Army to do the same. The
strategic result of these unplanned German offensives was merely to
throw the French back onto a fortified barrier that both restored and
augmented their power of resistance. Thus, the French were soon
afterward enabled to dispatch troops to reinforce their left flank—a
redistribution of strength that was to have far-reaching results in the
decisive Battle of the Marne.
While this seesaw campaign in Lorraine was taking place, more
decisive events were occurring to the northwest. The German attack on
Liège had awakened Joffre to the reality of a German advance through
Belgium, but not to its strength or to the wideness of its sweep. In
preparing a counterattack against the German advance through Belgium,
Joffre envisaged a pincer movement, with the French 3rd and 4th armies
on the right and the 5th, supported by the BEF, on the left, to trap the
Germans in the Meuse–Ardennes area south of Liège. The fundamental flaw
in this new French plan was that the Germans had deployed about 50
percent more troops than the French had estimated, and for a vaster
enveloping movement. Consequently, while the right-hand claw of the
French pincer (23 divisions) collided with the German 5th and 4th armies
(20 divisions) in the Ardennes and was thrown back, the left-hand claw
(13 French and four British divisions) found itself nearly trapped
between the German 1st and 2nd armies, with a total of 30 divisions, on
the one hand, and the 3rd, on the other. As the French 5th Army, under
General Charles Lanrezac, was checked in its offensive south of the
Sambre River by a German attack on August 21, the British, who reached
Mons on August 22, at first agreed to stand there to cover Lanrezac’s
left; but on August 23 news of the fall of Namur and of the German 3rd
Army’s presence near Dinant induced Lanrezac to wisely order a general
retreat; and on August 24 the British began their retreat from Mons,
just in time to escape envelopment by the German 1st Army’s westward
march around their unprotected left flank.
At last Joffre realized the truth and the utter collapse of Plan
XVII. Resolution was his greatest asset, and with imperturbable coolness
he formed a new plan out of the wreckage. Joffre decided to swing the
Allied centre and left back southwestward from the Belgian frontier to a
line pivoted on the French fortress of Verdun and at the same time to
withdraw some strength from the right wing so as to be able to station a
newly created 6th Army on the extreme left, north of Paris. This plan
might, in turn, have collapsed if the Germans had not themselves
departed from Schlieffen’s original plan due to a combination of
Moltke’s indecisiveness, poor communications between his headquarters
and the field army commanders of the German right wing, and Moltke’s
resulting confusion about the developing tactical situation. In the
first place, the German right wing was weakened by the subtraction of 11
divisions; four were detached to watch Antwerp and to invest French
fortresses near the Belgian frontier, instead of using reserve and
Ersatz troops for this as earlier intended, and seven more regular
divisions were transferred to check the Russian advance into East
Prussia (see below). In the second place, Alexander von Kluck, in
command of the 1st Army, did, in fact, wheel inward north of Paris
rather than southwest of the city.
Kluck’s change of direction meant the inevitable abandonment of the
original wide sweep around the far (western) side of Paris. Now the
flank of this wheeling German line would pass the near side of Paris and
across the face of the Paris defenses into the valley of the Marne
River. The premature inward wheel of Kluck’s 1st Army before Paris had
been reached thus exposed the German extreme right wing to a flank
attack and a possible counter-envelopment. On September 4 Moltke decided
to abandon the original Schlieffen Plan and substituted a new one: the
German 4th and 5th armies should drive southeastward from the Ardennes
into French Lorraine west of Verdun and then converge with the
southwestward advance of the 6th and 7th armies from Alsace against the
Toul–Épinal line of fortifications, so as to envelop the whole French
right wing; the 1st and 2nd armies, in the Marne Valley, should stand
guard, meanwhile, against any French countermove from the vicinity of
Paris. But such an Allied countermove had already begun before the new
German plan could be put into effect.
The First Battle of the Marne
Already on September 3, General J.-S. Gallieni, the military
governor of Paris, had guessed the significance of the German 1st Army’s
swing inward to the Marne east of Paris. On September 4 Joffre,
convinced by Gallieni’s arguments, decisively ordered his whole left
wing to turn about from their retreat and to begin a general offensive
against the Germans’ exposed right flank on September 6. The French 6th
Army, under M.-J. Maunoury, forewarned by Gallieni, had actually begun
attacking on September 5; and its pressure caused Kluck finally to
engage the whole 1st Army in support of his right flank when he was
still no farther up the Marne Valley than Meaux, with nothing but a
cavalry screen stretched across the 30 miles between him and Karl von
Bülow’s 2nd Army (at Montmirail). While the French 5th Army was turning
to attack Bülow, the BEF (between the 5th and the 6th armies) was still
continuing its retreat for another day; but on September 9 Bülow learned
that the British too had turned and were advancing into the gap between
him and Kluck. He therefore ordered the 2nd Army to retreat, thus
obliging Kluck to do likewise with the 1st. The counterattack of the
French 5th and 6th armies and the BEF developed into a general
counterattack by the entire left and centre of the French Army. This
counterattack is known as the First Battle of the Marne. By September 11
the German retreat extended to all the German armies.
There were several reasons for this extraordinary turn of events.
Chief among them was the utter exhaustion of the German soldiery of the
right wing, some of whom had marched more than 150 miles (240
kilometres) under conditions of frequent battle. Their fatigue was
ultimately a by-product of the Schlieffen Plan itself, for while the
retreating French had been able to move troops by rail to various points
within the circle formed by the front, the German troops had found their
advance hampered by demolished bridges and destroyed rail lines. Their
food and ammunition supply was consequently restricted, and the troops
also had to make their advance by foot. Moreover, the Germans had
underestimated the resilient spirit of the French troops, who had
maintained their courage and morale and their confidence in their
commanders. This fact was strikingly evidenced by the comparatively
small number of prisoners taken by the Germans in the course of what was
undeniably a precipitous French retreat.
Meanwhile, the assault by the German 6th and 7th armies on the
defenses of the French eastern frontier had already proved a predictably
expensive failure, and the German attempt at a partial envelopment
pivoted on Verdun was abandoned. The German right wing withdrew
northward from the Marne and made a firm stand along the Lower Aisne
River and the Chemin des Dames ridge. Along the Aisne the preponderant
power of the defense over the offense was reemphasized as the Germans
repelled successive Allied attacks from the shelter of trenches. The
First Battle of the Aisne marked the real beginning of trench warfare on
the Western Front. Both sides were in the process of discovering that,
in lieu of frontal assaults for which neither had the manpower readily
available, the only alternative was to try to overlap and envelop the
other’s flank, in this case the one on the side pointing toward the
North Sea and the English Channel. Thus began the “Race to the Sea,” in
which the developing trench networks of both sides were quickly extended
northwestward until they reached the Atlantic at a point just inside
coastal Belgium, west of Ostend.
The First Battle of the Marne succeeded in pushing the Germans back
for a distance of 40 to 50 miles and thus saved the capital city of
Paris from capture. In this respect it was a great strategic victory,
since it enabled the French to renew their confidence and to continue
the war. But the great German offensive, though unsuccessful in its
object of knocking France out of the war, had enabled the Germans to
capture a large portion of northeastern France. The loss of this heavily
industrialized region, which contained much of the country’s coal, iron,
and steel production, was a serious blow to the continuation of the
French war effort.
The Belgian Army, meanwhile, had fallen back to the fortress city of
Antwerp, which ended up behind the German lines. The Germans began a
heavy bombardment of Antwerp on September 28, and Antwerp surrendered to
the Germans on October 10.
After the failure of his first two attempts to turn the Germans’
western flank (one on the Somme, the other near Arras), Joffre
obstinately decided to try again yet farther north with the BEF—which in
any case was being moved northward from the Aisne. The BEF, accordingly,
was deployed between La Bassée and Ypres, while on the left the
Belgians—who had wisely declined to participate in the projected
attack—continued the front along the Yser down to the Channel. Erich von
Falkenhayn, however, who on September 14 had succeeded Moltke as chief
of the German general staff, had foreseen what was coming and had
prepared a counterplan: one of his armies, transferred from Lorraine,
was to check the expected offensive, while another was to sweep down the
coast and crush the attackers’ left flank. The British attack was
launched from Ypres on October 19, the German thrust the next day.
Though the Belgians of the Yser had been under increasing pressure for
two days already, both Sir John French and Ferdinand Foch, Joffre’s
deputy in the north, were slow to appreciate what was happening to their
“offensive”; but in the night of October 29–30 the Belgians had to open
the sluices on the Yser River to save themselves by flooding the
Germans’ path down the coast. The Battle of Ypres had its worst crises
on October 31 and November 11 and did not die down into trench warfare
until November 22.
By the end of 1914 the casualties the French had so far sustained in
the war totaled about 380,000 killed and 600,000 wounded; the Germans
had lost a slightly smaller number. With the repulse of the German
attempt to break through at the Battle of Ypres, the strained and
exhausted armies of both sides settled down into trench warfare. The
trench barrier was consolidated from the Swiss frontier to the Atlantic;
the power of modern defense had triumphed over the attack, and stalemate
ensued. The military history of the Western Front during the next three
years was to be a story of the Allies’ attempts to break this deadlock.
The Eastern and other fronts, 1914
The war in the east, 1914
On the Eastern Front, greater distances and quite considerable
differences between the equipment and quality of the opposing armies
ensured a fluidity of the front that was lacking in the west. Trench
lines might form, but to break them was not difficult, particularly for
the German army, and then mobile operations of the old style could be
undertaken.
Urged by the French to take offensive action against the Germans, the
Russian commander in chief, Grand Duke Nicholas, took it loyally but
prematurely, before the cumbrous Russian war machine was ready, by
launching a pincer movement against East Prussia. Under the higher
control of General Ya.G. Zhilinsky, two armies, the 1st, or Vilna, Army
under P.K. Rennenkampf and the 2nd, or Warsaw, Army under A.V. Samsonov,
were to converge, with a two-to-one superiority in numbers, on the
German 8th Army in East Prussia from the east and the south,
respectively. Rennenkampf’s left flank would be separated by 50 miles
from Samsonov’s right flank.
Max von Prittwitz und Gaffron, commander of the 8th Army, with his
headquarters at Neidenburg (Nidzica), had seven divisions and one
cavalry division on his eastern front but only the three divisions of
Friedrich von Scholtz’s XX Corps on his southern. He was therefore
dismayed to learn, on August 20, when the bulk of his forces had been
repulsed at Gumbinnen (August 19–20) by Rennenkampf’s attack from the
east, that Samsonov’s 13 divisions had crossed the southern frontier of
East Prussia and were thus threatening his rear. He initially considered
a general retreat, but when his staff objected to this, he approved
their counterproposal of an attack on Samsonov’s left flank, for which
purpose three divisions were to be switched in haste by rail from the
Gumbinnen front to reinforce Scholtz (the rest of the Gumbinnen troops
could make their retreat by road). The principal exponent of this
counterproposal was Lieutenant Colonel Max Hoffmann. Prittwitz, having
moved his headquarters northward to Mühlhausen (Młynary), was surprised
on August 22 by a telegram announcing that General Paul von Hindenburg,
with Ludendorff as his chief of staff, was coming to supersede him in
command. Arriving the next day, Ludendorff readily confirmed Hoffmann’s
dispositions for the blow at Samsonov’s left.
Meanwhile, Zhilinsky was not only giving Rennenkampf time to
reorganize after Gumbinnen but even instructing him to invest Königsberg
instead of pressing on to the west. When the Germans on August 25
learned from an intercepted Russian wireless message (the Russians
habitually transmitted combat directives “in clear,” not in code) that
Rennenkampf was in no hurry to advance, Ludendorff saw a new
opportunity. Developing the plan put forward by Hoffmann, Ludendorff
concentrated about six divisions against Samsonov’s left wing. This
force, inferior in strength, could not have been decisive, but
Ludendorff then took the calculated risk of withdrawing the rest of the
German troops, except for a cavalry screen, from their confrontation
with Rennenkampf and rushing them southwestward against Samsonov’s right
wing. Thus, August von Mackensen’s XVII Corps was taken from near
Gumbinnen and moved southward to duplicate the planned German attack on
Samsonov’s left with an attack on his right, thus completely enveloping
the Russian 2nd Army. This daring move was made possible by the notable
absence of communication between the two Russian field commanders, whom
Hoffmann knew to personally dislike each other. Under the Germans’
converging blows Samsonov’s flanks were crushed and his centre
surrounded during August 26–31. The outcome of this military
masterpiece, called the Battle of Tannenberg, was the destruction or
capture of almost the whole of Samsonov’s army. The history of imperial
Russia’s unfortunate participation in World War I is epitomized in the
ignominious outcome of the Battle of Tannenberg.
The progress of the battle was as follows. Samsonov, his forces
spread out along a front 60 miles long, was gradually pushing Scholtz
back toward the Allenstein–Osterode (Olsztyn–Ostróda) line when, on
August 26, Ludendorff ordered General Hermann von François, with the I
Corps on Scholtz’s right, to attack Samsonov’s left wing near Usdau
(Uzdowo). There, on August 27, German artillery bombardments threw the
hungry and weary Russians into precipitate flight. François started to
pursue them toward Neidenburg, in the rear of the Russian centre, and
then made a momentary diversion southward, to check a Russian
counterattack from Soldau (Działdowo). Two of the Russian 2nd Army’s six
army corps managed to escape southeastward at this point, and François
then resumed his pursuit to the east. By nightfall on August 29 his
troops were in control of the road leading from Neidenburg eastward to
Willenberg (Wielbark). The Russian centre, amounting to three army
corps, was now caught in the maze of forest between Allenstein and the
frontier of Russian Poland. It had no line of retreat, was surrounded by
the Germans, and soon dissolved into mobs of hungry and exhausted men
who beat feebly against the encircling German ring and then allowed
themselves to be taken prisoner by the thousands. Samsonov shot himself
in despair on August 29. By the end of August the Germans had taken
92,000 prisoners and annihilated half of the Russian 2nd Army.
Ludendorff’s bold recall of the last German forces facing Rennenkampf’s
army was wholly justified in the event, since Rennenkampf remained
utterly passive while Samsonov’s army was surrounded.
Having received two fresh army corps (seven divisions) from the
Western Front, the Germans now turned on the slowly advancing 1st Army
under Rennenkampf. The latter was attacked on a line extending from east
of Königsberg to the southern end of the chain of the Masurian Lakes
during September 1–15 and was driven from East Prussia. As a result of
these East Prussian battles Russia had lost about 250,000 men and, what
could be afforded still less, much war matériel. But the invasion of
East Prussia had at least helped to make possible the French comeback on
the Marne by causing the dispatch of two German army corps from the
Western Front.
Having ended the Russian threat to East Prussia, the Germans could
afford to switch the bulk of their forces from that area to the
Czȩstochowa–Kraków front in southwestern Poland, where the Austrian
offensive, launched on August 20, had been rolled back by Russian
counterattacks. A new plan for simultaneous thrusts by the Germans
toward Warsaw and by the Austrians toward Przemyśl was brought to
nothing by the end of October, as the Russians could now mount
counterattacks in overwhelming strength, their mobilization being at
last nearly completed. The Russians then mounted a powerful effort to
invade Prussian Silesia with a huge phalanx of seven armies. Allied
hopes rose high as the much-heralded “Russian steamroller” (as the huge
Russian Army was called) began its ponderous advance. The Russian armies
were advancing toward Silesia when Hindenburg and Ludendorff, in
November, exploited the superiority of the German railway network: when
the retreating German forces had crossed the frontier back into Prussian
Silesia, they were promptly moved northward into Prussian Poland and
thence sent southeastward to drive a wedge between the two armies of the
Russian right flank. The massive Russian operation against Silesia was
disorganized, and within a week four new German army corps had arrived
from the Western Front. Ludendorff was able to use them to press the
Russians back by mid-December to the Bzura–Rawka (rivers) line in front
of Warsaw, and the depletion of their munition supplies compelled the
Russians to also fall back in Galicia to trench lines along the Nida and
Dunajec rivers.
The Serbian campaign, 1914
The first Austrian invasion of Serbia was launched with numerical
inferiority (part of one of the armies originally destined for the
Balkan front having been diverted to the Eastern Front on August 18);
and the able Serbian commander, Radomir Putnik, brought the invasion to
an early end by his victories on the Cer Mountain (August 15–20) and at
Šabac (August 21–24). In early September, however, Putnik’s subsequent
northward offensive on the Sava River, in the north, had to be broken
off when the Austrians began a second offensive, against the Serbs’
western front on the Drina River. After some weeks of deadlock, the
Austrians began a third offensive, which had some success in the Battle
of the Kolubara, and forced the Serbs to evacuate Belgrade on November
30; but by December 15 a Serbian counterattack had retaken Belgrade and
forced the Austrians to retreat. Mud and exhaustion kept the Serbs from
turning the Austrian retreat into a rout, but the victory sufficed to
allow Serbia a long spell of freedom from further Austrian advances.
The Turkish entry
The entry of Turkey (or the Ottoman Empire, as it was then called)
into the war as a German ally was the one great success of German
wartime diplomacy. Since 1909 Turkey had been under the control of the
Young Turks, over whom Germany had skillfully gained a dominating
influence. German military instructors permeated the Turkish Army, and
Enver Paşa, the leader of the Young Turks, saw alliance with Germany as
the best way of serving Turkey’s interests, in particular for protection
against the Russian threat to the Straits. He therefore persuaded the
grand vizier, Said Halim Paşa, to make a secret treaty (negotiated late
in July, signed on August 2) pledging Turkey to the German side if
Germany should have to take Austria-Hungary’s side against Russia. The
unforeseen entry of Great Britain into the war against Germany alarmed
the Turks, but the timely arrival of two German warships, the Goeben and
the Breslau, in the Dardanelles on August 10 turned the scales in favour
of Enver’s policy. The ships were ostensibly sold to Turkey, but they
retained their German crews. The Turks began detaining British ships,
and more anti-British provocations followed, both in the Straits and on
the Egyptian frontier. Finally the Goeben led the Turkish fleet across
the Black Sea to bombard Odessa and other Russian ports (October 29–30).
Russia declared war against Turkey on November 1; and the western
Allies, after an ineffective bombardment of the outer forts of the
Dardanelles on November 3, declared war likewise on November 5. A
British force from India occupied Basra, on the Persian Gulf, on
November 21. In the winter of 1914–15 Turkish offensives in the Caucasus
and in the Sinai Desert, albeit abortive, served German strategy well by
tying Russian and British forces down in those peripheral areas.
The war at sea, 1914–15
In August 1914 Great Britain, with 29 capital ships ready and 13
under construction, and Germany, with 18 and nine, were the two great
rival sea powers. Neither of them at first wanted a direct
confrontation: the British were chiefly concerned with the protection of
their trade routes; the Germans hoped that mines and submarine attacks
would gradually destroy Great Britain’s numerical superiority, so that
confrontation could eventually take place on equal terms.
The first significant encounter between the two navies was that of
the Helgoland Bight, on Aug. 28, 1914, when a British force under
Admiral Sir David Beatty, having entered German home waters, sank or
damaged several German light cruisers and killed or captured 1,000 men
at a cost of one British ship damaged and 35 deaths. For the following
months the Germans in European or British waters confined themselves to
submarine warfare—not without some notable successes: on September 22 a
single German submarine, or U-boat, sank three British cruisers within
an hour; on October 7 a U-boat made its way into the anchorage of Loch
Ewe, on the west coast of Scotland; on October 15 the British cruiser
Hawke was torpedoed; and on October 27 the British battleship Audacious
was sunk by a mine.
On December 15 battle cruisers of the German High Seas Fleet set off
on a sortie across the North Sea, under the command of Admiral Franz von
Hipper: they bombarded several British towns and then made their way
home safely. Hipper’s next sortie, however, was intercepted on its way
out: on Jan. 24, 1915, in the Battle of the Dogger Bank, the German
cruiser Blücher was sunk and two other cruisers damaged before the
Germans could make their escape.
Abroad on the high seas, the Germans’ most powerful surface force was
the East Asiatic squadron of fast cruisers, including the Scharnhorst,
the Gneisenau, and the Nürnberg, under Admiral Graf Maximilian von Spee.
For four months this fleet ranged almost unhindered over the Pacific
Ocean, while the Emden, having joined the squadron in August 1914, was
detached for service in the Indian Ocean. The Germans could thus
threaten not only merchant shipping on the British trade routes but also
troopships on their way to Europe or the Middle East from India, New
Zealand, or Australia. The Emden sank merchant ships in the Bay of
Bengal, bombarded Madras (September 22), haunted the approaches to
Ceylon, and had destroyed 15 Allied ships in all before it was caught
and sunk off the Cocos Islands on November 9 by the Australian cruiser
Sydney.
Meanwhile, Admiral von Spee’s main squadron since August had been
threading a devious course in the Pacific from the Caroline Islands
toward the Chilean coast and had been joined by two more cruisers, the
Leipzig and the Dresden. On November 1, in the Battle of Coronel, it
inflicted a sensational defeat on a British force, under Sir Christopher
Cradock, which had sailed from the Atlantic to hunt it down: without
losing a single ship, it sank Cradock’s two major cruisers, Cradock
himself being killed. But the fortunes of the war on the high seas were
reversed when, on December 8, the German squadron attacked the Falkland
Islands (in the South Atlantic), probably unaware of the naval strength
that the British, since Coronel, had been concentrating there under
Admiral Sir Doveton Sturdee: two battle cruisers (the Invincible and
Inflexible, each equipped with eight 12-inch guns) and six other
cruisers. The German ships were suffering from wear and tear after their
long cruise in the Pacific and were no match for the newer, faster
British ships, which soon overtook them. The Scharnhorst, with Admiral
von Spee aboard, was the first ship to be sunk, then the Gneisenau,
followed by the Nürnberg and the Leipzig. The British ships, which had
fought at long range so as to render useless the smaller guns of the
Germans, sustained only 25 casualties in this engagement. When the
German light cruiser Dresden was caught and sunk off the Juan Fernández
Islands on March 14, 1915, commerce raiding by German surface ships on
the high seas was at an end. It was just beginning by German submarines,
however.
The belligerent navies were employed as much in interfering with
commerce as in fighting each other. Immediately after the outbreak of
war, the British had instituted an economic blockade of Germany, with
the aim of preventing all supplies reaching that country from the
outside world. The two routes by which supplies could reach German ports
were: (1) through the English Channel and the Dover Straits, and (2)
around the north of Scotland. A minefield laid in the Dover Straits with
a narrow free lane made it fairly easy to intercept and search ships
using the Channel. To the north of Scotland, however, there was an area
of more than 200,000 square miles (520,000 square kilometres) to be
patrolled, and the task was assigned to a squadron of armed merchant
cruisers. During the early months of the war, only absolute contraband
such as guns and ammunition was restricted, but the list was gradually
extended to include almost all material that might be of use to the
enemy.
The prevention of the free passage of trading ships led to
considerable difficulties among the neutral nations, particularly with
the United States, whose trading interests were hampered by British
policy. Nevertheless, the British blockade was extremely effective, and
during 1915 the British patrols stopped and inspected more than 3,000
vessels, of which 743 were sent into port for examination. Outward-bound
trade from Germany was brought to a complete standstill.
The Germans similarly sought to attack Great Britain’s economy with a
campaign against its supply lines of merchant shipping. In 1915,
however, with their surface commerce raiders eliminated from the
conflict, they were forced to rely entirely on the submarine.
The Germans began their submarine campaign against commerce by
sinking a British merchant steamship (Glitra), after evacuating the
crew, on Oct. 20, 1914. A number of other sinkings followed, and the
Germans soon became convinced that the submarine would be able to bring
the British to an early peace where the commerce raiders on the high
seas had failed. On Jan. 30, 1915, Germany carried the campaign a stage
further by torpedoing two Japanese liners (Tokomaru and Ikaria) without
warning. They next announced, on February 4, that from February 18 they
would treat the waters around the British Isles as a war zone in which
all Allied merchant ships were to be destroyed, and in which no ship,
whether enemy or not, would be immune.
Yet, whereas the Allied blockade was preventing almost all trade for
Germany from reaching that nation’s ports, the German submarine campaign
yielded less satisfactory results. During the first week of the campaign
seven Allied or Allied-bound ships were sunk out of 11 attacked, but
1,370 others sailed without being harassed by the German submarines. In
the whole of March 1915, during which 6,000 sailings were recorded, only
21 ships were sunk, and in April only 23 ships from a similar number.
Apart from its lack of positive success, the U-boat arm was continuously
harried by Great Britain’s extensive antisubmarine measures, which
included nets, specially armed merchant ships, hydrophones for locating
the noise of a submarine’s engines, and depth bombs for destroying it
underwater.
For the Germans, a worse result than any of the British
countermeasures imposed on them was the long-term growth of hostility on
the part of the neutral countries. Certainly the neutrals were far from
happy with the British blockade, but the German declaration of the war
zone and subsequent events turned them progressively away from their
attitude of sympathy for Germany. The hardening of their outlook began
in February 1915, when the Norwegian steamship Belridge, carrying oil
from New Orleans to Amsterdam, was torpedoed and sunk in the English
Channel. The Germans continued to sink neutral ships occasionally, and
undecided countries soon began to adopt a hostile outlook toward this
activity when the safety of their own shipping was threatened.
Much more serious was an action that confirmed the inability of the
German command to perceive that a minor tactical success could
constitute a strategic blunder of the most extreme magnitude. This was
the sinking by a German submarine on May 7, 1915, of the British liner
Lusitania, which was on its way from New York to Liverpool: though the
ship was, in fact, carrying 173 tons of ammunition, it had nearly 2,000
civilian passengers, and the 1,198 people who were drowned included 128
U.S. citizens. The loss of the liner and so many of its passengers,
including the Americans, aroused a wave of indignation in the United
States, and it was fully expected that a declaration of war might
follow. But the U.S. government clung to its policy of neutrality and
contented itself with sending several notes of protest to Germany.
Despite this, the Germans persisted in their intention and, on August
17, sank the Arabic, which also had U.S. and other neutral passengers.
Following a new U.S. protest, the Germans undertook to ensure the safety
of passengers before sinking liners henceforth; but only after the
torpedoing of yet another liner, the Hesperia, did Germany, on September
18, decide to suspend its submarine campaign in the English Channel and
west of the British Isles, for fear of provoking the United States
further. The German civilian statesmen had temporarily prevailed over
the naval high command, which advocated “unrestricted” submarine
warfare.
The loss of the German colonies
Germany’s overseas colonies, virtually without hope of reinforcement
from Europe, defended themselves with varying degrees of success against
Allied attack.
Togoland was conquered by British forces from the Gold Coast (now
Ghana) and by French forces from Dahomey (now Benin) in the first month
of the war. In the Cameroons (German: Kamerun), invaded by Allied forces
from the south, the east, and the northwest in August 1914 and attacked
from the sea in the west, the Germans put up a more effective
resistance, and the last German stronghold there, Mora, held out until
Feb. 18, 1916.
Operations by South African forces in huge numerical superiority were
launched against German South West Africa (Namibia) in September 1914
but were held up by the pro-German rebellion of certain South African
officers who had fought against the British in the South African War of
1899–1902. The rebellion died out in February 1915, but the Germans in
South West Africa nevertheless did not capitulate until July 9.
In Kiaochow, a small German enclave on the Chinese coast, the port of
Tsingtao was the object of Japanese attack from September 1914. With
some help from British troops and from Allied warships, the Japanese
captured it on November 7. In October, meanwhile, the Japanese had
occupied the Marianas, the Caroline Islands, and the Marshalls in the
North Pacific, these islands being defenseless since the departure of
Admiral von Spee’s naval squadron.
In the South Pacific, Western Samoa (now Samoa) fell without blood at
the end of August 1914 to a New Zealand force supported by Australian,
British, and French warships. In September an Australian invasion of
Neu-Pommern (New Britain) won the surrender of the whole colony of
German New Guinea within a few weeks.
The story of German East Africa (comprising present-day Rwanda,
Burundi, and continental Tanzania) was very different, thanks to the
quality of the local askaris (European-trained African troops) and to
the military genius of the German commander Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck. A
landing of troops from India was repelled with ignominy by the Germans
in November 1914. A massive invasion from the north, comprising British
and colonial troops under the South African J.C. Smuts, was launched in
February 1916, to be coordinated with a Belgian invasion from the west
and with an independent British one from Nyasaland in the south; but
though Dar es Salaam fell to Smuts and Tabora to the Belgians in
September, Lettow-Vorbeck maintained his small force in being. In
November 1917 he began to move southward across Portuguese East Africa
(Germany had declared war on Portugal in March 1916); and, after
crossing back into German East Africa in September 1918, he turned
southwestward to invade Northern Rhodesia in October. Having taken
Kasama on November 9 (two days before the German armistice in Europe),
he finally surrendered on November 25. With some 12,000 men at the
outset, he eventually tied down 130,000 or more Allied troops.
The years of stalemate
Rival strategies and the Dardanelles campaign, 1915–16
By late 1914 the state of deadlock on the Western Front had become
clear to the governments of the warring countries and even to many
members of their general staffs. Each side sought a solution to this
deadlock, and the solutions varied in form and manner.
Erich von Falkenhayn had succeeded the dispirited Moltke as chief of
the German general staff in September 1914. By the end of 1914
Falkenhayn seems to have concluded that although the final decision
would be reached in the West, Germany had no immediate prospect of
success there, and that the only practicable theatre of operations in
the near future was the Eastern Front, however inconclusive those
operations might be. Falkenhayn was convinced of the strength of the
Allied trench barrier in France, so he took the momentous decision to
stand on the defensive in the West.
Falkenhayn saw that a long war was now inevitable and set to work to
develop Germany’s resources for such a warfare of attrition. Thus, the
technique of field entrenchment was carried to a higher pitch by the
Germans than by any other country; Germany’s military railways were
expanded for the lateral movement of reserves; and the problem of the
supply of munitions and of the raw materials for their manufacture was
tackled so energetically and comprehensively that an ample flow was
ensured from the spring of 1915 onward—a time when the British were only
awakening to the problem. Here were laid the foundations of that
economic organization and utilization of resources that was to be the
secret of Germany’s power to resist the pressure of the British
blockade.
The western Allies were divided into two camps about strategy. Joffre
and most of the French general staff, backed by the British field
marshal Sir John French, argued for continuing assaults on the Germans’
entrenched line in France, despite the continued attrition of French
forces that this strategy entailed. Apart from this, the French high
command was singularly lacking in ideas to break the deadlock of trench
warfare. While desire to hold on to territorial gains governed the
German strategy, the desire to recover lost territory dominated the
French.
British-inspired solutions to the deadlock crystallized into two main
groups, one tactical, the other strategical. The first was to unlock the
trench barrier by inventing a machine that would be invulnerable to
machine guns and capable of crossing trenches and would thus restore the
tactical balance upset by the new preponderance of defensive over
offensive power. The idea of such a machine was conceived by Colonel
Ernest Swinton in October 1914, was nourished and tended in infancy by
Winston Churchill, then first lord of the Admiralty, and ultimately,
after months of experiment hampered by official opposition, came to
maturity in 1916 in the weapon known as the tank. Some of the British
strategists, on the other hand, argued that instead of seeking a
breakthrough on the Germans’ impregnable Western Front, the Allies
should turn the whole position of the Central Powers either by an
offensive through the Balkans or even by a landing on Germany’s Baltic
coast. Joffre and his supporters won the argument, and the Balkan
projects were relinquished in favour of a concentration of effort on the
Western Front. But misgivings were not silenced, and a situation arose
that revived the Middle Eastern scheme in a new if attenuated form.
Early in January 1915 the Russians, threatened by the Turks in the
Caucasus, appealed to the British for some relieving action against
Turkey. The British, after acrimonious argument among themselves,
decided in favour of “a naval expedition in February to bombard and take
the Gallipoli Peninsula (the western shore of the Dardanelles), with
Constantinople as its objective.” Though subsequently it was agreed that
army troops might be provided to hold the shores if the fleet forced the
Straits, the naval attack began on February 19 without army support.
When at last Sir Ian Hamilton’s troops from Egypt began to land on the
Turkish shores, on April 25, the Turks and their German commander, Otto
Liman von Sanders, had had ample time to prepare adequate
fortifications, and the defending armies were now six times as large as
when the campaign opened.
Against resolute opposition from the local Turkish commander (Mustafa
Kemal, the future Atatürk), Australian and New Zealand troops won a
bridgehead at “Anzac Cove,” north of Kaba Tepe, on the Aegean side of
the peninsula, with some 20,000 men landing in the first two days. The
British, meanwhile, tried to land at five points around Cape Helles but
established footholds only at three of them and then asked for
reinforcements. Thereafter little progress was made, and the Turks took
advantage of the British halt to bring into the peninsula as many troops
as possible. The standstill of the enterprise led to a political crisis
in London between Churchill, the Liberal government’s first lord of the
Admiralty, who, after earlier doubts, had made himself the foremost
spokesman of the Dardanelles operation, and John, Lord Fisher, the first
sea lord, who had always expressed doubts about it. Fisher demanded on
May 14 that the operation be discontinued and, when he was overruled,
resigned the next day. The Liberal government was replaced by a
coalition, but Churchill, though relieved of his former post, remained
in the War Council of the Cabinet.
In July the British began sending five more divisions to the
peninsula, and a new plan was hatched. In the hope of cutting the Turks’
north–south communications down the peninsula by seizing the Sari Bair
heights, which commanded the Straits from the west, the British
reinforced the bridgehead at “Anzac Cove” and, in the night of August
6–7, landed more troops at Suvla Bay (Anafarta Limanı), farther to the
north. Within a few days, both the offensive from “Anzac” and the new
landing had proved ineffectual. More argument ensued in the War Council,
and only late in the year was it acknowledged that the initially
promising but ill-conducted enterprise should be given up. The
evacuation of the troops was carried out from Suvla Bay and from “Anzac
Cove” under cover of darkness in December 1915, and from the Cape Helles
beaches in January 1916. The Dardanelles campaign thus came to a
frustrating end. Had it succeeded it might well have ended Turkey’s
participation in the war. In failing, it had cost about 214,000
casualties and achieved nothing.
The Western and Eastern fronts, 1915
The Western Front, 1915
Repeated French attacks in February–March 1915 on the Germans’
trench barrier in Champagne won only 500 yards (460 metres) of ground at
a cost of 50,000 men. For the British, Sir Douglas Haig’s 1st Army,
between Armentières and Lens, tried a new experiment at Neuve-Chapelle
on March 10, when its artillery opened an intense bombardment on a
2,000-yard front and then, after 35 minutes, lengthened its range, so
that the attacking British infantry, behind the second screen of shells,
could overrun the trenches ravaged by the first. But the experiment’s
immediate result was merely loss of life, both because shortage of
munitions made the second barrage inadequate and because there was a
five-hour delay in launching the infantry assault, against which the
Germans, having overcome their initial surprise, had time to rally their
resistance. It was clear to the Allies that this small-scale tactical
experiment had missed success only by a narrow margin and that there was
scope for its development. But the Allied commands missed the true
lesson, which was that a surprise attack could be successfully made
immediately following a short bombardment that compensated for its
brevity by its intensity. Instead, they drew the superficial deduction
that mere volume of shellfire was the key to reducing a trench line
prior to an assault. Not until 1917 did they revert to the
Neuve-Chapelle method. It was left to the Germans to profit from the
experiment. In the meantime, a French offensive in April against the
Germans’ Saint-Mihiel salient, southeast of Verdun, sacrificed 64,000
men to no effect.
The Germans, in accordance with Falkenhayn’s strategy, remained
generally on the defensive in the West. They did, however, launch an
attack on the Allies’ Ypres salient (where the French had in November
1914 taken the place of the British). There, on April 22, 1915, they
used chlorine gas for the first time on the Western Front, but they made
the mistake of discharging it from cylinders (which were dependent on a
favourable wind) rather than lobbing it onto the enemy trenches in
artillery shells. The gas did throw the agonized defenders into chaotic
flight; but the German high command, having been disappointed by the new
weapon’s performance under adverse conditions in Poland earlier in the
year, had failed to provide adequate reserves to exploit its unforeseen
success. By the end of a month-long battle, the Allies’ front was only
slightly retracted.
On May 9, meanwhile, the Allies had launched yet another premature
offensive, combining a major French onslaught between Lens and Arras
with two thrusts by Haig’s 1st Army, from Festubert and from Fromelles,
against the Aubers Ridge north of Lens. The French prolonged their
effort until June 18, losing 102,000 men without securing any gain; the
British, still short of shells against the Germans’ mass of machine
guns, had suspended their attacks three weeks earlier.
An even worse military failure was the joint offensive launched by
the Allies on Sept. 25, 1915. While 27 French divisions with 850 heavy
guns attacked on a front 18 miles long in Champagne, north and east of
Reims, simultaneous blows were delivered in distant Artois by 14 French
divisions with 420 heavy guns on a 12-mile front south of Lens and by
six British divisions with only 117 guns at Loos north of Lens. All of
these attacks were disappointing failures, partly because they were
preceded by prolonged bombardments that gave away any chance of surprise
and allowed time for German reserves to be sent forward to close up the
gaps that had been opened in the trench defenders’ ranks by the
artillery bombardment. At Loos the British use of chlorine gas was less
effective than Haig had hoped, and his engagement of all his own
available forces for his first assault came to nothing when his
commander in chief, Sir John French, was too slow in sending up
reserves; the French on both their fronts likewise lost, through lack of
timely support, most of what they had won by their first attacks. In
all, for a little ground, the Allies paid 242,000 men, against the
defenders’ loss of 141,000.
Having subsequently complained bitterly about Sir John French’s
management of operations, Haig was appointed British commander in chief
in his place in December.
The Eastern Front, 1915
The Russians’ plans for 1915 prescribed the strengthening of their
flanks in the north and in Galicia before driving westward again toward
Silesia. Their preparations for a blow at East Prussia’s southern
frontier were forestalled, as Ludendorff, striking suddenly eastward
from East Prussia, enveloped four Russian divisions in the Augustów
forests, east of the Masurian Lakes, in the second week of February; but
in Galicia the winter’s fighting culminated, on March 22, in the fall of
Przemyśl to the Russians.
For the Central Powers, the Austrian spokesman, Conrad, primarily
required some action to relieve the pressure on his Galician front, and
Falkenhayn was willing to help him for that purpose without departing
from his own general strategy of attrition—which was already coming into
conflict with Ludendorff’s desire for a sustained effort toward decisive
victory over Russia. The plan finally adopted, with the aim of smashing
the Russian centre in the Dunajec River sector of Galicia by an attack
on the 18-mile front from Gorlice to Tuchów (south of Tarnów), was
conceived with tactical originality: in order to maintain the momentum
of advance, no daily objectives were to be set for individual corps or
divisions; instead, each should make all possible progress before the
Russians could bring their reserves up, on the assumption that the rapid
advance of some attacking units would contagiously promote the
subsequent advance of others that had at first met more resistance. Late
in April, 14 divisions, with 1,500 guns, were quietly concentrated for
the stroke against the six Russian divisions present. Mackensen was in
command, with Hans von Seeckt, sponsor of the new tactic of
infiltration, as his chief of staff.
The Gorlice attack was launched on May 2 and achieved success beyond
all expectation. Routed on the Dunajec, the Russians tried to stand on
the Wisłoka, then fell back again. By May 14, Mackensen’s forces were on
the San, 80 miles from their starting point, and at Jarosław they even
forced a crossing of that river. Strengthened with more German troops
from France, Mackensen then struck again, taking Przemyśl on June 3 and
Lemberg (Lvov) on June 22. The Russian front was now bisected, but
Falkenhayn and Conrad had foreseen no such result and had made no
preparations to exploit it promptly. Their consequent delays enabled the
Russian armies to retreat without breaking up entirely.
Falkenhayn then decided to pursue a new offensive. Mackensen was
instructed to veer northward, so as to catch the Russian armies in the
Warsaw salient between his forces and Hindenburg’s, which were to drive
southeastward from East Prussia. Ludendorff disliked the plan as being
too much of a frontal assault: the Russians might be squeezed by the
closing-in of the two wings, but their retreat to the east would not be
cut off. He once more urged his spring scheme for a wide enveloping
maneuver through Kovno (Kaunas) on Vilna (Vilnius) and Minsk, in the
north. Falkenhayn opposed this plan, fearing that it would mean more
troops and a deeper commitment, and on July 2 the German emperor decided
in favour of Falkenhayn’s plan.
The results justified Ludendorff’s reservations. The Russians held
Mackensen at Brest-Litovsk and Hindenburg on the Narew River long enough
to enable the main body of their troops to escape through the unclosed
gap to the east. Though by the end of August all of Poland had been
occupied and 750,000 Russians had been taken prisoner in four months of
fighting, the Central Powers had missed their opportunity to break
Russia’s ability to carry on the war.
Too late, Falkenhayn in September allowed Ludendorff to try what he
had been urging much earlier, a wider enveloping movement to the north
on the Kovno–Dvinsk–Vilna triangle. The German cavalry, in fact,
approached the Minsk railway, far beyond Vilna; but the Russians’ power
of resistance was too great for Ludendorff’s slender forces, whose
supplies moreover began to run out, and by the end of the month his
operations were suspended. The crux of this situation was that the
Russian armies had been allowed to draw back almost out of the net
before the long-delayed Vilna maneuver was attempted. Meanwhile, an
Austrian attack eastward from Lutsk (Luck), begun later in September and
continued into October, incurred heavy losses for no advantage at all.
By October 1915 the Russian retreat, after a nerve-wracking series of
escapes from the salients the Germans had systematically created and
then sought to cut off, had come to a definite halt along a line running
from the Baltic Sea just west of Riga southward to Czernowitz
(Chernovtsy) on the Romanian border.
Other fronts, 1915–16
The Caucasus, 1914–16
The Caucasian front between Russia and Turkey comprised two
battlegrounds: Armenia in the west, Azerbaijan in the east. While the
ultimate strategic objectives for the Turks were to capture the Baku
oilfields in Azerbaijan and to penetrate Central Asia and Afghanistan in
order to threaten British India, they needed first to capture the
Armenian fortress of Kars, which, together with that of Ardahan, had
been a Russian possession since 1878.
A Russian advance from Sarıkamış (Sarykamysh, south of Kars) toward
Erzurum in Turkish Armenia in November 1914 was countered in December
when the Turkish 3rd Army, under Enver himself, launched a three-pronged
offensive against the Kars–Ardahan position. This offensive was
catastrophically defeated in battles at Sarıkamış and at Ardahan in
January 1915; but the Turks, ill-clad and ill-supplied in the Caucasian
winter, lost many more men through exposure and exhaustion than in
fighting (their 3rd Army was reduced in one month from 190,000 to 12,400
men, the battle casualties being 30,000). Turkish forces, which had
meanwhile invaded neutral Persia’s part of Azerbaijan and taken Tabriz
on January 14, were expelled by a Russian counterinvasion in March.
During this campaign the Armenians had created disturbances behind
the Turkish lines in support of the Russians and had threatened the
already arduous Turkish communications. The Turkish government on June
11, 1915, decided to deport the Armenians. In the process of
deportation, the Turkish authorities committed atrocities on a vast
scale: Armenian deaths have been estimated at some 600,000.
Subsequently, the Armenians perpetrated similar atrocities against the
Turkish population of the Armenian country, but perforce on a smaller
scale.
Grand Duke Nicholas, who had hitherto been commander in chief of all
Russia’s armies, was superseded by Emperor Nicholas himself in September
1915; the Grand Duke was then sent to command in the Caucasus. He and
General N.N. Yudenich, the victor of Sarıkamış, started a major assault
on Turkish Armenia in January 1916; Erzurum was taken on February 16,
Trabzon on April 18, Erzıncan on August 2; and a long-delayed Turkish
counterattack was held at Oğnut. Stabilized to Russia’s great advantage
in the autumn, the new front in Armenia was thereafter affected less by
Russo-Turkish warfare than by the consequences of revolution in Russia.
Mesopotamia, 1914–April 1916
The British occupation of Basra, Turkey’s port at the head of the
Persian Gulf, in November 1914 had been justifiable strategically
because of the need to protect the oil wells of southern Persia and the
Abadan refinery. The British advance of 46 miles northward from Basra to
al-Qurnah in December and the further advance of 90 miles up the Tigris
to al-ʿAmārah in May–June 1915 ought to have been reckoned enough for
all practical purposes, but the advance was continued in the direction
of the fatally magnetic Baghdad, ancient capital of the Arab caliphs of
Islām. Al-Kūt was occupied in September 1915, and the advance was pushed
on until the British, under Major General Charles Townshend, were 500
miles away from their base at Basra. They fought a profitless battle at
Ctesiphon, only 18 miles from Baghdad, on November 22 but then had to
retreat to al-Kūt. There, from December 7, Townshend’s 10,000 men were
besieged by the Turks; and there, on April 29, 1916, they surrendered
themselves into captivity.
The Egyptian frontiers, 1915–July 1917
Even after the evacuation from Gallipoli, the British maintained
250,000 troops in Egypt. A major source of worry to the British was the
danger of a Turkish threat from Palestine across the Sinai Desert to the
Suez Canal. That danger waned, however, when the initially unpromising
rebellion of the Hāshimite amir Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī against the Turks in the
Hejaz was developed by the personal enterprise of an unprofessional
soldier of genius, T.E. Lawrence, into a revolt infecting the whole
Arabian hinterland of Palestine and Syria and threatening to sever the
Turks’ vital Hejaz Railway (Damascus–Amman–Maʿān–Medina). Sir Archibald
Murray’s British troops at last started a massive advance in December
1916 and captured some Turkish outposts on the northeastern edge of the
Sinai Desert but made a pusillanimous withdrawal from Gaza in March 1917
at the very moment when the Turks were about to surrender the place to
them; the attempt the next month to retrieve the mistake was repulsed
with heavy losses. In June the command was transferred from Murray to
Sir Edmund Allenby. In striking contrast to Murray’s performance was
Lawrence’s capture of Aqaba (al-ʿAqabah) on July 6, 1917: his handful of
Arabs got the better of 1,200 Turks there.
Italy and the Italian front, 1915–16
Great Britain, France, and Russia concluded on April 26, 1915, the
secret Treaty of London with Italy, inducing the latter to discard the
obligations of the Triple Alliance and to enter the war on the side of
the Allies by the promise of territorial aggrandizement at
Austria-Hungary’s expense. Italy was offered not only the
Italian-populated Trentino and Trieste but also South Tirol (to
consolidate the Alpine frontier), Gorizia, Istria, and northern
Dalmatia. On May 23, 1915, Italy accordingly declared war on
Austria-Hungary.
The Italian commander, General Luigi Cadorna, decided to concentrate
his effort on an offensive eastward from the province of Venetia across
the comparatively low ground between the head of the Adriatic and the
foothills of the Julian Alps; that is to say, across the lower valley of
the Isonzo (Soc̆a) River. Against the risk of an Austrian descent on his
rear from the Trentino (which bordered Venetia to the northwest) or on
his left flank from the Carnic Alps (to the north), he thought that
limited advances would be precaution enough.
The Italians’ initial advance eastward, begun late in May 1915, was
soon halted, largely because of the flooding of the Isonzo, and trench
warfare set in. Cadorna, however, was determined to make progress and so
embarked on a series of persistent renewals of the offensive, known as
the Battles of the Isonzo. The first four of these (June 23–July 7; July
18–August 3; October 18–November 4; and November 10–December 2) achieved
nothing worth the cost of 280,000 men; and the fifth (March 1916) was
equally fruitless. The Austrians had shown on this front a fierce
resolution that was often lacking when they faced the Russians. In
mid-May 1916 Cadorna’s program was interrupted by an Austrian offensive
from the Trentino into the Asiago region of western Venetia. Though the
danger of an Austrian breakthrough from the mountainous borderland into
the Venetian plain in the rear of the Italians’ Isonzo front was
averted, the Italian counteroffensive in mid-June recovered only
one-third of the territory overrun by the Austrians north and southwest
of Asiago. The Sixth Battle of the Isonzo (August 6–17), however, did
win Gorizia for the Italians. On August 28 Italy declared war on
Germany. The next three months saw three more Italian offensives on the
Isonzo, none of them really profitable. In the course of 1916 the
Italians had sustained 500,000 casualties, twice as many as the
Austrians, and were still on the Isonzo.
Serbia and the Salonika expedition, 1915–17
Austria’s three attempted invasions of Serbia in 1914 had been
brusquely repulsed by Serbian counterattacks. By the summer of 1915 the
Central Powers were doubly concerned to close the account with Serbia,
both for reasons of prestige and for the sake of establishing secure
rail communications with Turkey across the Balkans. In August, Germany
sent reinforcements to Austria’s southern front; and, on Sept. 6, 1915,
the Central Powers concluded a treaty with Bulgaria, whom they drew to
their side by the offer of territory to be taken from Serbia. The
Austro-German forces attacked southward from the Danube on October 6;
and the Bulgars, undeterred by a Russian ultimatum, struck at eastern
Serbia on October 11 and at Serbian Macedonia on October 14.
The western Allies, surprised in September by the prospect of a
Bulgarian attack on Serbia, hastily decided to send help through neutral
Greece’s Macedonian port of Salonika, relying on the collusion of
Greece’s pro-Entente prime minister, Eleuthérios Venizélos. Troops from
Gallipoli, under the French general Maurice Sarrail, reached Salonika on
October 5, but on that day Venizélos fell from power. The Allies
advanced northward up the Vardar into Serbian Macedonia but found
themselves prevented from junction with the Serbs by the westward thrust
of the Bulgars. Driven back over the Greek frontier, the Allies were
merely occupying the Salonika region by mid-December. The Serbian Army,
meanwhile, to avoid double envelopment, had begun an arduous winter
retreat westward over the Albanian mountains to refuge on the island of
Corfu.
In the spring of 1916 the Allies at Salonika were reinforced by the
revived Serbs from Corfu as well as by French, British, and some Russian
troops, and the bridgehead was expanded westward to Vodena (Edessa) and
eastward to Kilkis; but the Bulgars, who in May obtained Fort Rupel
(Klidhi, on the Struma) from the Greeks, in mid-August not only overran
Greek Macedonia east of the Struma but also, from Monastir (Bitola),
invaded the Florina region of Greek Macedonia, to the west of the
Allies’ Vodena wing. The Allied counteroffensive took Monastir from the
Bulgars in November 1916, but more ambitious operations, from March to
May 1917, proved abortive. The Salonika front was tying down some
500,000 Allied troops without troubling the Central Powers in any
significant way.
Major developments in 1916
The Western Front, 1916
In 1914 the centre of gravity of World War I had been on the Western
Front, in 1915 it shifted to the Eastern, and in 1916 it once more moved
back to France. Though the western Allies had dissipated some of their
strength in the Dardanelles, Salonika, and Mesopotamia, the rising tide
of Britain’s new armies and of its increased munition supplies promised
the means for an offensive far larger in scale than any before to break
the trench deadlock. Britain’s armies in France had grown to 36
divisions by the end of 1915. By that time voluntary enlistments, though
massive, had nevertheless proved to be inadequate to meet Britain’s
needs, so in January 1916, by the Military Service Act, voluntary
service was replaced by conscription.
In December 1915 a conference of the leaders of the French, British,
Belgian, and Italian armies, with representatives present from the
Russian and Japanese armies, was held at Joffre’s headquarters. They
adopted the principle of a simultaneous general offensive in 1916 by
France, Great Britain, Russia, and Italy. But military action by Germany
was to dislocate this scheme, and only the British offensive came fully
into operation.
By the winter of 1915–16, Falkenhayn regarded Russia as paralyzed and
Italy as inconsiderable. He considered the time at last ripe for
positive action against France, after whose collapse Great Britain would
have no effective military ally on the European continent and would be
brought to terms rather by submarine warfare than by land operations.
For his offensive in the West, however, Falkenhayn clung always to his
method of attrition. He believed that a mass breakthrough was
unnecessary and that instead the Germans should aim to bleed France of
its manpower by choosing a point of attack “for the retention of which
the French Command would be compelled to throw in every man they have.”
The town of Verdun and its surrounding complex of forts was chosen,
because it was a menace to the main German lines of communications,
because it was within a French salient and thus cramped the defenders,
and because of the certainty that the French would sacrifice any number
of men to defend Verdun for reasons of patriotism associated with the
town itself.
The keynote of Falkenhayn’s tactical plan was to place a dense
semicircle of German heavy and medium artillery to the north and east of
Verdun and its outlying fortresses and then to stage a continuous series
of limited infantry advances upon the forts. These advances would draw
the French infantry into defending or trying to retake the forts, in the
process of which they would be pulverized by German artillery fire. In
addition, each German infantry advance would have its way smoothed by a
brief but extremely intense artillery bombardment that would clear the
targeted ground of defenders.
Although French Intelligence had given early warnings of the Germans’
offensive preparations, the French high command was so preoccupied with
its own projected offensive scheme that the warning fell on deaf ears.
At 7:15 am on Feb. 21, 1916, the heaviest German artillery bombardment
yet seen in the war began on a front of eight miles around Verdun, and
the French trenches and barbed wire fields there were flattened out or
upheaved in a chaos of tumbled earth. At 4:45 pm the German infantry
advanced—although for the first day only on a front of two and a half
miles. From then until February 24 the French defenders’ lines east of
the Meuse River crumbled away. Fort-Douaumont, one of the most important
fortresses, was occupied by the Germans on February 25. By March 6, when
the Germans began to attack on the west bank of the Meuse as well as on
the east bank, the French had come to see that something more than a
feint was intended. To relieve the pressure on France, the Russians made
a sacrificial attack on the Eastern Front at Lake Naroch (see below The
Eastern Front, 1916); the Italians began their fifth offensive on the
Isonzo (see above Italy and the Italian front, 1915–16); and the British
took over the Arras sector of the Western Front, thus becoming
responsible for the whole line from the Yser southward to the Somme.
Meanwhile, General Philippe Pétain was entrusted with commanding the
defense of Verdun. He organized repeated counterattacks that slowed the
German advance, and, more importantly, he worked to keep open the one
road leading into Verdun that had not been closed by German shelling.
This was the Bar-le-Duc road, which became known as La Voie Sacrée (the
“Sacred Way”) because vital supplies and reinforcements continued to be
sent to the Verdun front along it despite constant harassment from the
German artillery.
Slowly but steadily the Germans moved forward on Verdun: they took
Fort-Vaux, southeast of Fort-Douaumont, on June 7 and almost reached the
Belleville heights, the last stronghold before Verdun itself, on June
23. Pétain was preparing to evacuate the east bank of the Meuse when the
Allies’ offensive on the Somme River was at last launched. Thereafter,
the Germans assigned no more divisions to the Verdun attack.
Preceded by a week’s bombardment, which gave ample warning of its
advent, the Somme offensive was begun on July 1, 1916, by the 11 British
divisions of Rawlinson’s new 4th Army on a 15-mile front between Serre,
north of the Ancre, and Curlu, north of the Somme, while five French
divisions attacked at the same time on an eight-mile front mainly south
of the Somme, between Curlu and Péronne. With incredibly misplaced
optimism, Haig had convinced himself that the British infantry would be
able to walk forward irresistibly over ground cleared of defenders by
the artillery. But the unconcealed preparations for the assault and the
long preliminary bombardment had given away any chance of surprise, and
the German defenders were well prepared for what was to come. In the
event, the 60,000 attacking British infantrymen moving forward in
symmetrical alignment at a snail’s pace enforced by each man’s 66 pounds
(30 kilograms) of cumbrous equipment were mowed down in masses by the
German machine guns, and the day’s casualties were the heaviest ever
sustained by a British army. The French participants in the attack had
twice as many guns as the British and did better against a weaker system
of defenses, but almost nothing could be done to exploit this
comparative success.
Resigning himself now to limited advances, Haig concentrated his next
effort on the southern sector of his Somme front. The Germans’ second
position there (Longueval, Bazentin, and Ovillers) fell on July 14, but
again the opportunity of exploitation was missed. Thenceforward, at
great cost in lives, a methodical advance was continued, gaining little
ground but straining the German resistance. The first tanks to be used
in the war, though in numbers far too small to be effective, were thrown
into the battle by the British on September 15. In mid-November early
rains halted operations. The four-month Battle of the Somme was a
miserable failure except that it diverted German resources from the
attack on Verdun. It cost the British 420,000 casualties, the French
195,000, and the Germans 650,000.
At Verdun, the summer slackening of German pressure enabled the
French to organize counterattacks. Surprise attacks directed by General
Robert-Georges Nivelle and launched by General Charles Mangin’s army
corps recovered Fort-Douaumont on October 24, Fort-Vaux on November 2,
and places north of Douaumont in mid-December. Pétain’s adroit defense
of Verdun and these counterattacks had deprived Falkenhayn’s offensive
of its strategic fulfillment; but France had been so much weakened in
the first half of 1916 that it could scarcely satisfy the Allies’
expectations in the second. Verdun was one of the longest, bloodiest,
and most ferocious battles of the war; French casualties amounted to
about 400,000, German ones to about 350,000.
The Battle of Jutland
The summer of 1916 saw the long-deferred confrontation of Germany’s
High Seas Fleet and Great Britain’s Grand Fleet in the Battle of
Jutland—history’s biggest naval battle, which both sides claimed as a
victory.
Admiral Reinhard Scheer, who became commander in chief of the High
Seas Fleet in January 1916, planned to contrive an encounter on the open
sea between his fleet and some part of the British fleet in separation
from the whole, so that the Germans could exploit their momentary
superiority in numbers to achieve victory. Scheer’s plan was to ensnare
Admiral Beatty’s squadron of battle cruisers at Rosyth, midway up
Britain’s eastern coast, by stratagem and destroy it before any
reinforcements from the Grand Fleet’s main base at Scapa Flow could
reach it.
To set the trap, five battle cruisers of the German High Seas Fleet,
together with four light cruisers, were to sail northward, under
Hipper’s command, from Wilhelmshaven, Ger., to a point off the
southwestern coast of Norway. Scheer himself, with the battle squadrons
of the High Seas Fleet, was to follow, 50 miles behind, to catch
Beatty’s forces in the gap once they had been lured eastward across the
North Sea in pursuit of Hipper. But the signal for the German operation
to begin, made in the afternoon of May 30, was intercepted and partially
decoded by the British; and before midnight the whole British Grand
Fleet was on its way to a rendezvous off Norway’s southwestern coast and
roughly across the planned route of the German fleet.
At 2:20 pm on May 31, when Admiral John Jellicoe’s Grand Fleet
squadrons from Scapa Flow were still 65 miles away to the north,
Beatty’s advance guard of light cruisers—five miles ahead of his heavier
ships—and Hipper’s scouting group learned quite accidentally of one
another’s proximity. An hour later the two lines were drawn up for
battle, and in the next 50 minutes the British suffered severely, and
the Indefatigable was sunk. When Beatty’s battle cruisers came up,
however, the German cruisers, in their turn, sustained such damage that
Hipper sent a protective screen of German destroyers in to launch a
torpedo attack. The British had lost another battle cruiser, the Queen
Mary, before the German High Seas Fleet was sighted by a British patrol
to the south, at 4:35 pm. On this report Beatty ordered his ships
northward, to lure the Germans toward the Grand Fleet under Jellicoe’s
command.
Not until 6:14 pm, after Jellicoe’s squadrons and Beatty’s had been
within sight of one another for nearly a quarter of an hour, was the
German fleet precisely located—only just in time for Jellicoe to deploy
his ships to the best advantage. Jellicoe arrayed the Grand Fleet
end-to-end in a line so that their combined broadsides could be brought
to bear on the approaching German ships, who could in turn reply only
with the forward guns of their leading ships. The British ships in
effect formed the horizontal stroke and the German ships the vertical
stroke of the letter “T,” with the British having deployed into line at
a right angle to the German ships’ forward progress. This maneuver was
in fact known as “crossing the enemy’s T” and was the ideal situation
dreamed of by the tacticians of both navies, since by “crossing the T”
one’s forces temporarily gained an overwhelming superiority of
firepower.
For the Germans this was a moment of unparalleled risk. Three factors
helped prevent the destruction of the German ships in this trap: their
own excellent construction, the steadiness and discipline of their
crews, and the poor quality of the British shells. The Lützow, the
Derfflinger, and the battleship König led the line and were under
broadside fire from some 10 British battleships, yet their main guns
remained undamaged and they fought back to such effect that one of their
salvoes fell full on the Invincible and blew it up. This success,
however, did little to relieve the intense bombardment from the other
British ships, and the German fleet was still pressing forward into the
steel trap of the Grand Fleet.
Relying on the magnificent seamanship of the German crews, Scheer
extricated his fleet from the appalling danger into which it had run by
a simple but, in practice, extremely difficult maneuver. At 6:30 pm he
ordered a turn of 180° for all his ships at once; it was executed
without collision; and the German battleships reversed course in unison
and steamed out of the jaws of the trap, while German destroyers spread
a smoke screen across their rear. The smoke and worsening visibility
left Jellicoe in doubt about what had happened, and the British had lost
contact with the Germans by 6:45 pm.
Yet the British Grand Fleet had maneuvered in such a way that it
ended up between the German High Seas Fleet and the German ports, and
this was the situation Scheer most dreaded, so at 6:55 pm Scheer ordered
another reverse turn, perhaps hoping to pass around the rear of the
British fleet. But the result for him was a worse position than that
from which he had just escaped: his battle line had become compressed,
and his leading ships found themselves again under intense bombardment
from the broadside array of the British ships. Jellicoe had succeeded in
crossing the Germans’ “T” again. The Lützow now received irreparable
damage, and many other German ships were damaged at this point. At 7:15
pm, therefore, to cause a diversion and win time, Scheer ordered his
battle cruisers and destroyers ahead to virtually immolate themselves in
a massed charge against the British ships.
This was the crisis of the Battle of Jutland. As the German battle
cruisers and destroyers steamed forward, the German battleships astern
became confused and disorganized in trying to execute their reverse
turn. Had Jellicoe ordered the Grand Fleet forward through the screen of
charging German battle cruisers at that moment, the fate of the German
High Seas Fleet would likely have been sealed. As it was, fearing and
overestimating the danger of torpedo attacks from the approaching
destroyers, he ordered his fleet to turn away, and the two lines of
battleships steamed apart at a speed of more than 20 knots. They did not
meet again, and when darkness fell, Jellicoe could not be sure of the
route of the German retreat. By 3:00 am on June 1 the Germans had safely
eluded their pursuers.
The British had sustained greater losses than the Germans in both
ships and men. In all, the British lost three battle cruisers, three
cruisers, eight destroyers, and 6,274 officers and men in the Battle of
Jutland. The Germans lost one battleship, one battle cruiser, four light
cruisers, five destroyers, and 2,545 officers and men. The losses
inflicted on the British, however, were not enough to affect the
numerical superiority of their fleet over the German in the North Sea,
where their domination remained practically unchallengeable during the
course of the war. Henceforth, the German High Seas Fleet chose not to
venture out from the safety of its home ports.
The Eastern Front, 1916
In the hope of diverting German strength from the attack at Verdun
on the Western Front, the Russians gallantly but prematurely opened an
offensive north and south of Lake Naroch (Narocz, east of Vilna) on
March 18, 1916, and continued it until March 27, though they won very
little ground at great cost and only for a short time. They then
reverted to preparations for a major offensive in July. The main blow,
it was planned, should be delivered by A.E. Evert’s central group of
armies, assisted by an inward movement of A.N. Kuropatkin’s army in the
northern sector of the front. But at the same time, A.A. Brusilov’s
southwestern army group was authorized to make a supposedly diversionary
attack in its own sectors. In the event, Brusilov’s attack became by far
the more important operation of the offensive.
Surprised by the Austrians’ Asiago offensive in May, Italy promptly
appealed to the Russians for action to draw the enemy’s reserves away
from the Italian fronts, and the Russians responded by advancing their
timetable again. Brusilov undertook to start his attack on June 4, on
the understanding that Evert’s should be launched 10 days later.
Thus began an offensive on the Eastern Front that was to be imperial
Russia’s last really effective military effort. Popularly known as
Brusilov’s offensive, it had such an astonishing initial success as to
revive Allied dreams about the irresistible Russian “steamroller.”
Instead, its ultimate achievement was to sound the death knell of the
Russian monarchy. Brusilov’s four armies were distributed along a very
wide front, with Lutsk at the northern end, Tarnopol and Buchach
(Buczacz) in the central sector, and Czernowitz at the southern end.
Having struck first in the Tarnopol and Czernowitz sectors on June 4,
Brusilov on June 5 took the Austrians wholly by surprise when he
launched A.M. Kaledin’s army toward Lutsk: the defenses crumbled at
once, and the attackers pushed their way between two Austrian armies. As
the offensive was developed, the Russians were equally successful in the
Buchach sector and in their thrust into Bukovina, which culminated in
the capture of Czernowitz. By June 20, Brusilov’s forces had captured
200,000 prisoners.
Evert and Kuropatkin, however, instead of striking in accordance with
the agreed plan, found excuses for procrastination. The Russian chief of
general staff, M.V. Alekseyev, therefore tried to transfer this inert
couple’s reserves to Brusilov, but the Russians’ lateral communications
were so poor that the Germans had time to reinforce the Austrians before
Brusilov was strong enough to make the most of his victory. Though his
forces in Bukovina advanced as far as the Carpathian Mountains, a
counterstroke by Alexander von Linsingen’s Germans in the Lutsk sector
checked Russian progress at the decisive point. Further Russian drives
from the centre of Brusilov’s front were launched in July; but by early
September the opportunity of exploiting the summer’s victory was lost.
Brusilov had driven the Austrians from Bukovina and from much of eastern
Galicia and had inflicted huge losses of men and equipment on them, but
he had depleted Russia’s armies by about 1,000,000 men in doing so. (A
large portion of this number consisted of deserters or prisoners.) This
loss seriously undermined both the morale and the material strength of
Russia. Brusilov’s offensive also had indirect results of great
consequence. First, it had compelled the Germans to withdraw at least
seven divisions from the Western Front, where they could ill be spared
from the Verdun and Somme battles. Second, it hastened Romania’s
unfortunate entry into the war.
Disregarding Romania’s military backwardness, the Romanian government
of Ionel Brătianu declared war against Austria-Hungary on Aug. 27, 1916.
In entering the war, Romania succumbed to the Allies’ offers of
Austro-Hungarian territory and to the belief that the Central Powers
would be too much preoccupied with other fronts to mount any serious
riposte against a Romanian offensive. Some 12 of Romania’s 23 divisions,
in three columns, thus began on August 28 a slow westward advance across
Transylvania, where at first there were only five Austro-Hungarian
divisions to oppose them.
The riposte of the Central Powers was swifter than the progress of
the invasion: Germany, Turkey, and Bulgaria declared war against Romania
on August 28, August 30, and September 1, respectively; and Falkenhayn
had plans already prepared. Though the miscarriage of his overall
program for the year led to his being replaced by Hindenburg as chief of
the German general staff on August 29, Falkenhayn’s recommendation that
Mackensen should direct a Bulgarian attack on southern Romania was
approved; and Falkenhayn himself went to command on the Transylvanian
front, for which five German as well as two more Austrian divisions were
found available as reinforcements.
Mackensen’s forces from Bulgaria stormed the Turtucaia (Tutrakan)
bridgehead on the Danube southeast of Bucharest on September 5. His
subsequent advance eastward into the Dobruja caused the Romanians to
switch their reserves to that quarter instead of reinforcing their
Transylvanian enterprise, which thereupon came to a halt. Falkenhayn
soon attacked: first at the southern end of the 200-mile front, where he
threw one of the Romanian columns back into the Roter Turm (Turnu Roşu)
Pass, then in the centre, where by October 9 he had defeated another at
Kronstadt (Braşov). For a month, however, the Romanians withstood
Falkenhayn’s attempts to drive them out of the Vulcan and Szurduk
(Surduc) passes into Walachia. But just before winter snows blocked the
way, the Germans took the two passes and advanced southward to Tîrgu
Jiu, where they won another victory. Then Mackensen, having turned
westward from the Dobruja, crossed the Danube near Bucharest, on which
his and Falkenhayn’s armies converged. Bucharest fell on December 6, and
the Romanian Army, a crippled force, could only fall back northeastward
into Moldavia, where it had the belated support of Russian troops. The
Central Powers had access to Romania’s wheat fields and oil wells, and
the Russians had 300 more miles of front to defend.
German strategy and the submarine war, 1916–January 1917
Both Admiral Scheer and General Falkenhayn doubted whether the
German submarines could do any decisive damage to Great Britain so long
as their warfare was restricted in deference to the protests of the
United States; and, after a tentative reopening of the submarine
campaign on Feb. 4, 1916, the German naval authorities in March gave the
U-boats permission to sink without warning all ships except passenger
vessels. The German civilian statesmen, however, who paid due attention
to their diplomats’ warnings about U.S. opinion, were soon able to
prevail over the generals and the admirals: on May 4 the scope of the
submarine campaign was again severely restricted.
The controversy between the statesmen and the advocates of
unrestricted warfare was not dead yet. Hindenburg, chief of the general
staff from August 29, had Ludendorff as his quartermaster general, and
Ludendorff was quickly won over to supporting the chief of the Admiralty
staff, Henning von Holtzendorff, in his arguments against the German
chancellor, Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg, and the foreign minister,
Gottlieb von Jagow. Whereas Bethmann and some other statesmen were
hoping for a negotiated peace (see below), Hindenburg and Ludendorff
were committed to a military victory. The British naval blockade,
however, threatened to starve Germany into collapse before a military
victory could be achieved, and soon Hindenburg and Ludendorff got their
way: it was decided that, from Feb. 1, 1917, submarine warfare should be
unrestricted and overtly so.
Peace moves and U.S. policy to February 1917
There were few efforts by any of the Central or Allied Powers to
achieve a negotiated peace in the first two years of the war. By 1916
the most promising signs for peace seemed to exist only in the
intentions of two statesmen in power—the German chancellor Bethmann and
the U.S. president Woodrow Wilson. Wilson, having proclaimed the
neutrality of the United States in August 1914, strove for the next two
years to maintain it. (See the video.) Early in 1916 he sent his
confidant, Colonel Edward M. House, to sound London and Paris about the
possibility of U.S. mediation between the belligerents. House’s
conversations with the British foreign secretary, Sir Edward Grey,
resulted in the House–Grey Memorandum (Feb. 22, 1916), declaring that
the United States might enter the war if Germany rejected Wilson’s
mediation but that Great Britain reserved the right to initiate U.S.
mediatory action. By mid-1916, the imminent approach of the presidential
election in the United States caused Wilson to suspend his moves for
peace.
In Germany, meanwhile, Bethmann had succeeded, with difficulty, in
postponing the declaration of unrestricted submarine warfare. Wilson,
though he was reelected president on Nov. 7, 1916, let another month
pass without doing anything for peace, and during that period the German
victory over Romania was taking place. Thus, while Bethmann lost
patience with waiting for Wilson to act, the German military leaders
came momentarily to think that Germany, from a position of strength,
might now propose a peace acceptable to themselves. Having been
constrained to agree with the militarists that, if his proposals were
rejected by the Allies, unrestricted submarine warfare should be
resumed, Bethmann was allowed to announce, on December 12, the terms of
a German offer of peace—terms, however, that were militarily so
far-reaching as to preclude the Allies’ acceptance of them. The main
stumbling block was Germany’s insistence upon its annexation of Belgium
and of the occupied portion of northeastern France.
On Dec. 18, 1916, Wilson invited both belligerent camps to state
their “war aims.” The Allies were secretly encouraged by the U.S.
secretary of state to offer terms too sweeping for German acceptance;
and the Germans, suspecting collusion between Wilson and the Allies,
agreed in principle to the opening of negotiations but left their
statement of December 12 practically unchanged and privately decided
that Wilson should not actually take part in any negotiation that he
might bring about. By mid-January 1917 the December overtures had ended.
Strangely enough, Wilson’s next appeal, a speech of Jan. 22, 1917,
preaching international conciliation and a “peace without victory,”
elicited a confidential response from the British expressing readiness
to accept his mediation. In the opposite camp, Austria-Hungary would
likewise have listened readily to peace proposals, but Germany had
already decided, on January 9, to declare unrestricted submarine
warfare. Bethmann’s message restating Germany’s peace terms and inviting
Wilson to persevere in his efforts was delivered on January 31 but was
paradoxically accompanied by the announcement that unrestricted
submarine warfare would begin the next day.
Wilson severed diplomatic relations between the United States and
Germany on Feb. 3, 1917, and asked Congress, on February 26, for power
to arm merchantmen and to take all other measures to protect U.S.
commerce. But American opinion was still not ready for war, and the
Germans wisely abstained from attacks on U.S. shipping. What changed the
tenor of public feeling was the publication of the Zimmermann Telegram.
Arthur Zimmermann had succeeded Jagow as Germany’s secretary of state
for foreign affairs in November 1916; and in that same month the Mexican
president, Venustiano Carranza, whose country’s relations with the
United States had been critical since March, had virtually offered bases
on the Mexican coast to the Germans for their submarines. Zimmermann on
Jan. 16, 1917, sent a coded telegram to his ambassador in Mexico
instructing him to propose to the Mexican government that, if the United
States should enter the war against Germany, Mexico should become
Germany’s ally with a view to recovering Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona
from the United States. Intercepted and decoded by the British Admiralty
Intelligence, this message was communicated to Wilson on February 24. It
was published in the U.S. press on March 1, and it immediately set off a
nationwide demand for war against Germany.
Developments in 1917
The Western Front, January–May 1917
The western Allies had good reason to be profoundly dissatisfied
with the poor results of their enterprises of 1916, and this
dissatisfaction was signalized by two major changes made at the end of
the year. In Great Britain, the government of H.H. Asquith, already
turned into a coalition in May 1915, was replaced in December 1916 by a
coalition under David Lloyd George; and that same month in France the
post of commander in chief of the army was transferred from Joffre to
General R.-G. Nivelle.
As for the military situation, the fighting strength of the British
Army on the Western Front had grown to about 1,200,000 men and was still
growing. That of the French Army had been increased by the incorporation
of colonial troops to some 2,600,000, so that, including the Belgians,
the Allies disposed an estimated 3,900,000 men against 2,500,000
Germans. To the Allies, these figures suggested an offensive on their
part.
Nivelle, who owed his appointment to the contrast between the
brilliant success of his recent counterattacks at Verdun and the meagre
results of Joffre’s strategy of attrition, was deeply imbued with the
optimism of which experience was by now curing Joffre. He also had ideas
of national glory and, accordingly, modified plans made by Joffre in
such a way as to assign to the French Army the determinant role in the
offensive that, it was calculated, must decide the issue on the Western
Front in 1917. Nivelle’s plan in its final stage was that the British
should make preparatory attacks not only north of the wilderness of the
old Somme battlefields but also south of them (in the sector previously
held by French troops); that these preparatory attacks should attract
the German reserves; and, finally, that the French should launch the
major offensive in Champagne (their forces in that sector having been
strengthened both by new troops from the overseas colonies and by those
transferred from the Somme). The tactics Nivelle planned to use were
based on those he had employed so successfully at Verdun. But he placed
an optimistic overreliance on his theory of combining “great violence
with great mass,” which basically consisted of intense artillery
bombardments followed by massive frontal attacks.
Meanwhile, Ludendorff had foreseen a renewal of the Allied offensive
on the Somme, and he used his time to frustrate Nivelle’s plans and to
strengthen the German front in two different ways. First, the hitherto
rather shallow defenses in Champagne were by mid-February reinforced
with a third line, out of range of the French artillery. Second,
Ludendorff decided to anticipate the attack by falling back to a new and
immensely strong line of defense. This new line, called the
Siegfriedstellung, or “Hindenburg Line,” was rapidly constructed across
the base of the great salient formed by the German lines between Arras
and Reims. From the German position east of Arras, the line ran
southeastward and southward, passing west of Cambrai and Saint-Quentin
to rejoin the old German line at Anizy (between Soissons and Laon).
After a preliminary step backward on February 23, a massive withdrawal
of all German troops from the westernmost bulges of the great salient to
the new and shorter line was smoothly and quickly made on March 16. The
major towns within the areas evacuated by the Germans (i.e., Bapaume,
Péronne, Roye, Noyon, Chauny, and Coucy) were abandoned to the Allies,
but the area was left as a desert, with roads mined, trees cut down,
wells fouled, and houses demolished, the ruins being strewn with
explosive booby traps.
This baffling and unexpected German withdrawal dislocated Nivelle’s
plan, but, unperturbed by warnings from all quarters about the changed
situation, Nivelle insisted on carrying it out. The Battle of Arras,
with which the British started the offensive on April 9, 1917, began
well enough for the attackers, thanks to much-improved artillery methods
and to a new poison gas shell that paralyzed the hostile artillery. Vimy
Ridge, at the northern end of the 15-mile battlefront, fell to the
Canadian Corps, but the exploitation of this success was frustrated by
the congestion of traffic in the British rear, and though the attack was
continued until May 5, stiffer German resistance prevented exploitation
of the advances made in the first five days.
Nivelle’s own offensive in Champagne, launched on April 16 on the
Aisne front from Vailly eastward toward Craonne and Reims, proved to be
a fiasco. The attacking troops were trapped in a web of machine-gun
fire, and by nightfall the French had advanced about 600 yards instead
of the six miles anticipated in Nivelle’s program. Only on the wings was
any appreciable progress achieved. The results compared favourably with
Joffre’s offensives, as some 28,000 German prisoners were taken at a
cost to the French of just under 120,000 casualties. But the effect on
French morale was worse, because Nivelle’s fantastic predictions of the
offensive’s success were more widely known than Joffre’s had ever been.
With the collapse of Nivelle’s plan, his fortunes were buried in the
ruins, and after some face-saving delay he was superseded as commander
in chief by Pétain on May 15, 1917.
This change was made too late to avert a more harmful sequel, for in
late April a mutiny broke out among the French infantry and spread until
16 French army corps were affected. The authorities chose to ascribe it
to seditious propaganda, but the mutinous outbreaks always occurred when
exhausted troops were ordered back into the line, and they signaled
their grievances by such significant cries as: “We’ll defend the
trenches, but we won’t attack.” Pétain restored tranquillity by meeting
the just grievances of the troops; his reputation for sober judgment
restored the troops’ confidence in their leaders, and he made it clear
that he would avoid future reckless attacks on the German lines. But the
military strength of France could never be fully restored during the
war.
Pétain insisted that the only rational strategy was to keep to the
defensive until new factors had changed the conditions sufficiently to
justify taking the offensive with a reasonable hope of success. His
constant advice was: “We must wait for the Americans and the tanks.”
Tanks were now being belatedly built in large numbers, and this emphasis
on them showed a dawning recognition that machine warfare had superseded
mass infantry warfare.
The U.S. entry into the war
After the rupture of diplomatic relations with Germany on Feb. 3,
1917, events pushed the United States inexorably along the road to war.
Using his authority as commander in chief, Wilson on March 9 ordered the
arming of American merchant ships so that they could defend themselves
against U-boat attacks. German submarines sank three U.S. merchant ships
during March 16–18 with heavy loss of life. Supported by his Cabinet, by
most newspapers, and by a large segment of public opinion, Wilson made
the decision on March 20 for the United States to declare war on
Germany, and on March 21 he called Congress to meet in special session
on April 2. He delivered a ringing war message to that body, and the war
resolution was approved by the Senate on April 3 and by the House of
Representatives on April 6. The presidential declaration of war followed
immediately.
The entry of the United States was the turning point of the war,
because it made the eventual defeat of Germany possible. It had been
foreseen in 1916 that if the United States went to war, the Allies’
military effort against Germany would be upheld by U.S. supplies and by
enormous extensions of credit. These expectations were amply and
decisively fulfilled. The United States’ production of armaments was to
meet not only its own needs but also France’s and Great Britain’s. In
this sense, the American economic contribution alone was decisive. By
April 1, 1917, the Allies had exhausted their means of paying for
essential supplies from the United States, and it is difficult to see
how they could have maintained the war effort if the United States had
remained neutral. American loans to the Allies worth $7,000,000,000
between 1917 and the end of the war maintained the flow of U.S. arms and
food across the Atlantic.
The American military contribution was as important as the economic
one. A system of conscription was introduced by the Selective Service
Act of May 18, 1917, but many months were required for the raising,
training, and dispatch to Europe of an expeditionary force. There were
still only 85,000 U.S. troops in France when the Germans launched their
last great offensive in March 1918; but there were 1,200,000 there by
the following September. The U.S. commander in Europe was General John
J. Pershing.
The U.S. Navy was the second largest in the world when America
entered the war in 1917. The Navy soon abandoned its plans for the
construction of battleships and instead concentrated on building the
destroyers and submarine chasers so desperately needed to protect Allied
shipping from the U-boats. By July 1917 there were already 35 U.S.
destroyers stationed at Queenstown (Cobh) on the coast of Ireland—enough
to supplement British destroyers for a really effective transatlantic
convoy system. By the end of the war there were more than 380 U.S. craft
stationed overseas.
The U.S. declaration of war also set an example to other states in
the Western Hemisphere. Cuba, Panama, Haiti, Brazil, Guatemala,
Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Honduras were all at war with Germany by the
end of July 1918, while the Dominican Republic, Peru, Uruguay, and
Ecuador contented themselves with the severance of relations.
The Russian revolutions and the Eastern Front, March 1917–March 1918
The Russian Revolution of March (February, old style) 1917 put an
end to the autocratic monarchy of imperial Russia and replaced it with a
provisional government. But the latter’s authority was at once contested
by soviets, or “councils of workers’ and soldiers’ deputies,” who
claimed to represent the masses of the people and so to be the rightful
conductors of the revolution. The March Revolution was an event of
tremendous magnitude. Militarily it appeared to the western Allies as a
disaster and to the Central Powers as a golden opportunity. The Russian
Army remained in the field against the Central Powers, but its spirit
was broken, and the Russian people were utterly tired of a war that the
imperial regime for its own reasons had undertaken without being morally
or materially prepared for it. The Russian Army had been poorly armed,
poorly supplied, poorly trained, and poorly commanded and had suffered a
long series of defeats. The soviets’ propaganda—including the notorious
Order No. 1 of the Petrograd Soviet (March 14, 1917), which called for
committees of soldiers and sailors to take control of their units’ arms
and to ignore any opposition from their officers—served to subvert the
remnants of discipline in troops who were already deeply demoralized.
But the leaders of the provisional government foresaw that a German
victory in the war would bode ill for Russia in the future, and they
were also conscious of their nation’s obligations toward the western
Allies. A.F. Kerensky, minister of war from May 1917, thought that a
victorious offensive would enhance the new government’s authority,
besides relieving pressure on the Western Front. The offensive, however,
which General L.G. Kornilov launched against the Austrians in eastern
Galicia on July 1, 1917, was brought to a sudden halt by German
reinforcements after 10 days of spectacular advances, and it turned into
a catastrophic rout in the next three weeks. By October the advancing
Germans had won control of most of Latvia and of the approaches to the
Gulf of Finland.
Meanwhile, anarchy was spreading over Russia. The numerous
non-Russian peoples of the former empire were one after another claiming
autonomy or independence from Russia—whether spontaneously or at the
prompting of the Germans in occupation of their countries. Finns,
Estonians, Latvians, Lithuanians, and Poles were, by the end of 1917,
all in various stages of the dissidence from which the independent
states of the postwar period were to emerge; and, at the same time,
Ukrainians, Georgians, Armenians, and Azerbaijanis were no less active
in their own nationalist movements.
The provisional government’s authority and influence were rapidly
fading away in Russia proper during the late summer and autumn of 1917.
The Bolshevik Revolution of November (October, O.S.) 1917 overthrew the
provisional government and brought to power the Marxist Bolsheviks under
the leadership of Vladimir I. Lenin. The Bolshevik Revolution spelled
the end of Russia’s participation in the war. Lenin’s decree on land, of
November 8, undermined the Eastern Front by provoking a homeward rush of
soldiers anxious to profit from the expropriation of their former
landlords. On November 8, likewise, Lenin issued his decree on peace,
which offered negotiations to all belligerents but precluded annexations
and indemnities and stipulated a right of self-determination for all
peoples concerned. Finally, on November 26, the new Bolshevik government
unilaterally ordered a cessation of hostilities both against the Central
Powers and against the Turks.
An armistice between Lenin’s Russia and the Central Powers was signed
at Brest-Litovsk on Dec. 15, 1917. The ensuing peace negotiations were
complicated: on the one hand, Germany wanted peace in the east in order
to be free to transfer troops thence to the Western Front, but Germany
was at the same time concerned to exploit the principle of national
self-determination in order to transfer as much territory as possible
into its own safe orbit from that of revolutionary Russia. On the other
hand, the Bolsheviks wanted peace in order to be free to consolidate
their regime in the east with a view to being able to extend it westward
as soon as the time should be ripe. When the Germans, despite the
armistice, invaded the Ukraine to cooperate with the Ukrainian
nationalists against the Bolsheviks there and furthermore resumed their
advance in the Baltic countries and in Belorussia, Lenin rejected his
colleague Leon Trotsky’s stopgap policy (“neither peace nor war”) and
accepted Germany’s terms in order to save the Bolshevik Revolution. By
the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk (March 3, 1918), Soviet Russia recognized
Finland and the Ukraine as independent; renounced control over Estonia,
Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, and most of Belorussia; and ceded Kars,
Ardahan, and Batumi to Turkey.
Greek affairs
Greece’s attitude toward the war was long uncertain: whereas King
Constantine I and the general staff stood for neutrality, Eleuthérios
Venizélos, leader of the Liberal Party, favoured the Allied cause. As
prime minister from 1910, Venizélos wanted Greece to participate in the
Allies’ Dardanelles enterprise against Turkey in 1915, but his arguments
were overruled by the general staff. The Allies occupied Lemnos and
Lesbos regardless of Greece’s neutrality. Constantine dismissed
Venizélos from office twice in 1915, but Venizélos still commanded a
majority in Parliament. The Bulgarians’ occupation of Greek Macedonia in
summer 1916 provoked another political crisis. Venizélos left Athens for
Crete late in September, set up a government of his own there, and
transferred it early in October to Salonika. On November 27 it declared
war on Germany and Bulgaria. Finally, the Allies, on June 11, 1917,
deposed King Constantine. Venizélos then returned to Athens to head a
reunified Greek government, which on June 27 declared war on the Central
Powers.
Caporetto
On the Italian front, Cadorna’s 10th Battle of the Isonzo in
May–June 1917 won very little ground; but his 11th, from August 17 to
September 12, during which General Luigi Capello’s 2nd Army captured
much of the Bainsizza Plateau (Banjška Planota), north of Gorizia,
strained Austrian resistance very severely. To avert an Austrian
collapse, Ludendorff decided that the Austrians must take the offensive
against Italy and that he could, with difficulty, lend them six German
divisions for that purpose.
The offensive was boldly planned, very ably organized, and well
executed. While two Austrian armies, under General Svetozar Borojević
von Bojna, attacked the eastern end of the Italians’ Venetian salient on
the Bainsizza Plateau and on the low ground near the Adriatic shore, the
German 14th Army, comprising the six German divisions and nine Austrian
ones under Otto von Below, with Konrad Krafft von Dellmensingen as his
chief of staff, on Oct. 24, 1917, began to force its way over the
barrier of the Julian Alps at the northeastern corner of the Venetian
salient, with Caporetto approximately opposite the middle point of the
line. The Italians, completely surprised by this thrust, which
threatened their forces both to the north and to the south, fell back in
confusion: Below’s van reached Udine, the former site of the Italian
general headquarters, by October 28 and was on the Tagliamento River by
October 31. Below’s success had far exceeded the hopes of the planners
of the offensive, and the Germans could not exploit their speedy advance
as effectively as they wished. Cadorna, with his centre shattered,
managed by precipitate retreat to save the wings of his army and was
able, by November 9, to rally his remaining 300,000 troops behind the
Piave River, north of Venice. The Italians had sustained about 500,000
casualties, and 250,000 more had been taken prisoner. General Armando
Diaz was then appointed commander in chief in Cadorna’s place. The
Italians managed to hold the Piave front against direct assaults and
against attempts to turn its left flank by an advance from the Trentino.
The Italians’ defense was helped by British and French reinforcements
that had been rushed to Italy when the collapse began. A conference of
the military and political leaders of the Allies was held at Rapallo in
November, and out of this conference there sprang the joint Supreme War
Council at Versailles, and ultimately a unified military command.
Mesopotamia, summer 1916–winter 1917
The British forces in Mesopotamia, neglected hitherto and
discouraged by the disaster at al-Kūt (see above Mesopotamia, 1914–April
1916), received better attention from London in the second half of 1916;
and Sir Frederick Stanley Maude, who became commander in chief in
August, did so much to restore their morale that by December he was
ready to undertake the recapture of al-Kūt as a first step toward
capturing Baghdad.
By a series of outflanking movements, the British made their way
gradually and methodically up the Tigris, compelling the Turks to extend
their defenses upstream. When the final blow at al-Kūt was delivered by
a frontal attack on Feb. 22, 1917, British forces were already crossing
the river from the west bank behind the town; but though al-Kūt fell two
days later most of the Turkish garrison extricated itself from the
threatened encirclement. Unable to hold a new line on the Diyālā River,
the Turkish commander, Kâzim Karabekir, evacuated Baghdad, which the
British entered on March 11. In September the British position in
Baghdad was definitively secured by the capture of ar-Ramādī, on the
Euphrates about 60 miles to the west; and early in November the main
Turkish force in Mesopotamia was driven from Tikrīt, on the Tigris
midway between Baghdad and Mosul.
Maude, having within a year changed the Mesopotamian scene from one
of despair to one of victory, died of cholera on Nov. 18, 1917. His
successor in command was Sir William Marshall.
Palestine, autumn 1917
Having assumed command in Egypt (see above The Egyptian frontiers,
1915–July 1917), Allenby transferred his headquarters from Cairo to the
Palestinian front and devoted the summer of 1917 to preparing a serious
offensive against the Turks. On the Turkish side, Falkenhayn, now in
command at Aleppo, was at this time himself planning a drive into the
Sinai Peninsula for the autumn, but the British were able to strike
first.
The Turkish front in southern Palestine extended from Gaza, on the
coast, southeastward to Abu Hureira (Tel Haror) and thence to the
stronghold of Beersheba. To disguise his real intention of achieving a
breakthrough at Abu Hureira, for which, however, the capture of
Beersheba was obviously prerequisite, Allenby began his operation with a
heavy bombardment of Gaza from October 20 onward. When Beersheba had
been seized by converging movements on October 31, a feint attack on
Gaza was launched next day to draw the Turkish reserves thither. Then,
the main attack, delivered on November 6, broke through the weakened
defenses at Abu Hureira and into the plain of Philistia. Falkenhayn had
attempted a counterstroke at Beersheba, but the collapse of the Turkish
centre necessitated a general retreat. By November 14 the Turkish forces
were split in two divergent groups, the port of Jaffa was taken, and
Allenby wheeled his main force to the right for an advance inland on
Jerusalem. On December 9 the British occupied Jerusalem.
The Western Front, June–December 1917
Pétain’s decision to remain temporarily on the defensive after
Nivelle’s failure gave Haig the opportunity to fulfill his desire for a
British offensive in Flanders. He took the first step on June 7, 1917,
with a long-prepared attack on the Messines Ridge, north of Armentières,
on the southern flank of his Ypres salient. This attack by General Sir
Herbert Plumer’s 2nd Army proved an almost complete success; it owed
much to the surprise effect of 19 huge mines simultaneously fired after
having been placed at the end of long tunnels under the German front
lines. The capture of the ridge inflated Haig’s confidence; and, though
General Sir Hubert Gough, in command of the 5th Army, advocated a
step-by-step method for the offensive, Haig committed himself to
Plumer’s view that they “go all out” for an early breakthrough. Haig
disregarded the well-founded forecast that, from the beginning of
August, rain would be turning the Flanders countryside into an almost
impassable swamp. The Germans, meanwhile, were well aware that an
offensive was coming from the Ypres salient: the flatness of the plain
prevented any concealment of Haig’s preparations, and a fortnight’s
intensive bombardment (4,500,000 shells from 3,000 guns) served to
underline the obvious—without, however, destroying the German machine
gunners’ concrete pillboxes.
Thus, when the Third Battle of Ypres was begun, on July 31, only the
left wing’s objectives were achieved: on the crucial right wing the
attack was a failure. Four days later, the ground was already swampy.
When the attack was resumed on August 16, very little more was won, but
Haig was still determined to persist in his offensive. Between September
20 and October 4, thanks to an improvement in the weather, the infantry
was able to advance into positions cleared by bombardment, but no
farther. Haig launched another futile attack on October 12, followed by
three more attacks, scarcely more successful, in the last 10 days of
October. At last, on November 6, when his troops advanced a very short
distance and occupied the ruins of Passchendaele (Passendale), barely
five miles beyond the starting point of his offensive, Haig felt that
enough had been done. Having prophesied a decisive success without
“heavy losses,” he had lost 325,000 men and inflicted no comparable
damage on the Germans.
Pétain, less pretentious and merely testing what might be done with
his rehabilitated French Army, had at least as much to show for himself
as Haig. In August the French 2nd Army under General M.-L.-A. Guillaumat
fought the last battle of Verdun, winning back all the remainder of what
had been lost to the Germans in 1916. In October General P.-A.-M.
Maistre’s 10th Army, in the Battle of Malmaison, took the ridge of the
Chemin des Dames, north of the Aisne to the east of Soissons, where the
front in Champagne joined the front in Picardy south of the Somme.
The British, at least, closed the year’s campaign with an operation
of some significance for the future. When the offensive from Ypres died
out in the Flanders mud, they looked again at their tanks, of which they
now had a considerable force but which they could hardly use profitably
in the swamps. A Tank Corps officer, Colonel J.F.C. Fuller, had already
suggested a large-scale raid on the front southwest of Cambrai, where a
swarm of tanks, unannounced by any preparatory bombardment, could be
released across the rolling downland against the German trenches. This
comparatively modest scheme might have been wholly successful if left
unchanged, but the British command transformed it: Sir Julian Byng’s 3rd
Army was to actually try to capture Cambrai and to push on toward
Valenciennes. On November 20, therefore, the attack was launched, with
324 tanks leading Byng’s six divisions. The first massed assault of
tanks in history took the Germans wholly by surprise, and the British
achieved a far deeper penetration and at less cost than in any of their
past offensives. Unfortunately, however, all of Byng’s troops and tanks
had been thrown into the first blow, and, as he was not reinforced in
time, the advance came to a halt several miles short of Cambrai. A
German counterstroke, on November 30, broke through on the southern
flank of the new British salient and threatened Byng’s whole army with
disaster before being checked by a further British counterattack. In the
end, three-quarters of the ground that the British had won was
reoccupied by the Germans. Even so, the Battle of Cambrai had proved
that surprise and the tank in combination could unlock the trench
barrier.
The Far East
China’s entry into the war in 1917 on the side of the Allies was
motivated not by any grievance against the Central Powers but by the
Peking government’s fear lest Japan, a belligerent since 1914, should
monopolize the sympathies of the Allies and of the United States when
Far Eastern affairs came up for settlement after the war. Accordingly,
in March 1917 the Peking government severed its relations with Germany;
and on August 14 China declared war not only on Germany but also on the
western Allies’ other enemy, Austria-Hungary. China’s contribution to
the Allied war effort was to prove negligible in practical effects,
however.
Naval operations, 1917–18
Since Germany’s previous restrictions of its submarine warfare had
been motivated by fear of provoking the United States into war, the U.S.
declaration of war in April 1917 removed any reason for the Germans to
retreat from their already declared policy of unrestricted warfare.
Consequently, the U-boats, having sunk 181 ships in January, 259 in
February, and 325 in March, sank 430 in April. The April sinkings
represented 852,000 gross tons, to be compared both with the 600,000
postulated by the German strategists as their monthly target and with
the 700,000 that the British in March had pessimistically foretold for
June. The Germans had calculated that if the world’s merchant shipping
could be sunk at the monthly rate of 600,000 tons, the Allies, being
unable to build new merchant ships fast enough to replace those lost,
could not carry on the war for more than five months. At the same time,
the Germans, who had 111 U-boats operational when the unrestricted
campaign began, had embarked on an extensive building program that, when
weighed against their current losses of one or two U-boats per month,
promised a substantial net increase in the U-boats’ numbers. During
April, one in every four of the merchant ships that sailed from British
ports was destined to be sunk, and by the end of May the quantity of
shipping available to carry the vital foodstuffs and munitions to Great
Britain had been reduced to only 6,000,000 tons.
The April total, however, proved to be a peak figure—primarily
because the Allies at last adopted the convoy system for the protection
of merchant ships. Previously, a ship bound for one of the Allies’ ports
had set sail by itself as soon as it was loaded. The sea was thus dotted
with single and unprotected merchant ships, and a scouting U-boat could
rely on several targets coming into its range in the course of a cruise.
The convoy system remedied this by having groups of merchant ships sail
within a protective ring of destroyers and other naval escorts. It was
logistically possible and economically worthwhile to provide this kind
of escort for a group of ships. Furthermore, the combination of convoy
and escort would force the U-boat to risk the possibility of a
counterattack in order to sink the merchant ships, thus giving the
Allies a prospect of reducing the U-boats’ numbers. Despite the manifest
and seemingly overwhelming benefits of the convoy system, the idea was
novel and, like any untried system, met with powerful opposition from
within the military. It was only in the face of extreme necessity and
under great pressure from Lloyd George that the system was tried, more
or less as a last resort.
The first convoy sailed from Gibraltar to Great Britain on May 10,
1917; the first from the United States sailed later in May; ships using
the South Atlantic sailed in convoy from July 22. During the later
months of 1917 the use of convoys caused an abrupt fall in the sinkings
by U-boats: 500,500 tons in May, 300,200 in September, and only about
200,600 in November. The convoy system was so quickly vindicated that in
August it was extended to shipping outward-bound from Great Britain. The
Germans themselves soon observed that the British had grasped the
principles of antisubmarine warfare, and that sailing ships in convoys
considerably reduced the opportunities for attack.
Apart from the convoys, the Allies improved their antisubmarine
technology (hydrophones, depth charges, etc.) and extended their
minefields. In 1918, moreover, Admiral Sir Roger Keyes, in command at
Dover, set up a system whereby the English Channel was patrolled by
surface craft with searchlights, so that U-boats passing through it had
to submerge themselves to depths at which they were liable to strike the
mines that had been laid for them. Subsequently, most of the U-boats
renounced the Channel as a way into the Atlantic and instead took the
passage north of Great Britain, thus losing precious fuel and time
before reaching the heavily traveled sea lanes of the western approaches
to Great Britain. In the summer of 1918, U.S. minelayers laid more than
60,000 mines (13,000 of them British) in a wide belt across 180 miles of
the North Sea between Scotland and Norway, so as to obstruct the
U-boats’ only access from Germany to the Atlantic other than the closely
guarded Channel.
The cumulative effect of all these measures was the gradual
containment and ultimately the defeat of the U-boat campaign, which
never again achieved the success of April 1917. While sinkings by
submarines, after that month, steadily fell, the losses of U-boats
showed a slow but steady rise, and more than 40 were destroyed in the
first six months of 1918. At the same time the replacement of merchant
vessels in the building program improved steadily, until it eventually
far outstripped losses. In October 1918, for example, 511,000 tons of
new Allied merchant ships were launched, while only 118,559 tons were
lost.
Air warfare
At the start of the war the land and sea forces used the aircraft
put at their disposal primarily for reconnaissance, and air fighting
began as the exchange of shots from small arms between enemy airmen
meeting one another in the course of reconnoitering. Fighter aircraft
armed with machine guns, however, made their appearance in 1915.
Tactical bombing and the bombing of enemy air bases were also gradually
introduced at this time. Contact patrolling, with aircraft giving
immediate support to infantry, was developed in 1916.
Strategic bombing, on the other hand, was initiated early enough:
British aircraft from Dunkirk bombed Cologne, Düsseldorf, and
Friedrichshafen in the autumn of 1914, their main objective being the
sheds of the German dirigible airships, or Zeppelins; and raids by
German airplanes or seaplanes on English towns in December 1914 heralded
a great Zeppelin offensive sustained with increasing intensity from
January 1915 to September 1916 (London was first bombed in the night of
May 31–June 1, 1915). In October 1916 the British, in turn, began a more
systematic offensive, from eastern France, against industrial targets in
southwestern Germany.
While the British directed much of their new bombing strength to
attacks on the bases of the U-boats, the Germans used theirs largely to
continue the offensive against the towns of southeastern England. On
June 13, 1917, in daylight, 14 German bombers dropped 118 high explosive
bombs on London and returned home safely. This lesson and that of
subsequent raids by the German Gotha bombers made the British think more
seriously about strategic bombing and about the need for an air force
independent of the other fighting services. The Royal Air Force (RAF),
the world’s first separate air service, was brought into active
existence by a series of measures taken between October 1917 and June
1918.
Peace moves, March 1917–September 1918
Until the end of 1916, the pursuit of peace was confined to
individuals and to small groups. In the following months it began to
acquire a broad popular backing. Semi-starvation in towns, mutinies in
the armies, and casualty lists that seemed to have no end made more and
more people question the need and the wisdom of continuing the war.
Francis Joseph, Austria’s venerable old emperor, died on Nov. 21,
1916. The new emperor, Charles I, and his foreign minister, Graf Ottokar
Czernin, initiated peace moves in the spring of 1917 but unfortunately
did not concert their diplomatic efforts, and the channels of
negotiation they opened between Austria-Hungary and the Allies had dried
up by that summer.
In Germany, Matthias Erzberger, a Roman Catholic member of the
Reichstag, had, on July 6, 1917, proposed that territorial annexations
be renounced in order to facilitate a negotiated peace. During the
ensuing debates Bethmann Hollweg resigned the office of chancellor, and
the emperor William II appointed the next chancellor, Ludendorff’s
nominee Georg Michaelis, without consulting the Reichstag. The
Reichstag, offended, proceeded to pass its Friedensresolution, or “peace
resolution,” of July 19 by 212 votes. The peace resolution was a string
of innocuous phrases expressing Germany’s desire for peace but without a
clear renunciation of annexations or indemnities. The Allies took almost
no notice of it.
Erzberger’s proposal of July 6 had been intended to pave the way for
Pope Benedict XV’s forthcoming note to the belligerents of both camps.
Dated Aug. 1, 1917, this note advocated a German withdrawal from Belgium
and from France, the Allies’ withdrawal from the German colonies, and
the restoration not only of Serbia, Montenegro, and Romania but also of
Poland to independence. France and Great Britain declined to give an
express reply pending Germany’s statement of its attitude about Belgium,
on which Germany avoided committing itself.
An unofficial peace move was made in London: on Nov. 29, 1917, the
Daily Telegraph published a letter from Lord Lansdowne suggesting
negotiations on the basis of the status quo antebellum. Lloyd George
rejected Lansdowne’s theses on December 14.
The U.S. president Woodrow Wilson made himself the chief formulator
and spokesman of the war aims of the Allies and the United States. The
first nine months of 1918 saw Wilson’s famous series of pronouncements
on his war aims: the Fourteen Points (January 8), the “Four Principles”
(February 11), the “Four Ends” (July 4), and the “Five Particulars”
(September 27). Most important, not least because of Germany’s deluded
reliance on them in its eventual suing for peace, were the Fourteen
Points: (1) open covenants of peace and the renunciation of secret
diplomacy, (2) freedom of navigation on the high seas in wartime as well
as peace, (3) the maximum possible freedom of trade, (4) a guaranteed
reduction of armaments, (5) an impartial colonial settlement
accommodating not only the colonialist powers but also the peoples of
the colonies, (6) the evacuation of all Russian territory and respect
for Russia’s right of self-determination, (7) the complete restoration
of Belgium, (8) a complete German withdrawal from France and
satisfaction for France about Alsace-Lorraine, (9) a readjustment of
Italy’s frontiers on an ethnic basis, (10) an open prospect of autonomy
for the peoples of Austria-Hungary, (11) the restoration of Romania,
Serbia, and Montenegro, with free access to the sea for Serbia and
international guarantees of the Balkan states’ independence and
integrity, (12) the prospect of autonomy for non-Turkish peoples of the
Ottoman Empire and the unrestricted opening of the Straits, but secure
sovereignty for the Turks in their own areas, (13) an independent Poland
with access to the sea and under international guarantee, and (14) “a
general association of nations,” to guarantee the independence and
integrity of all states, great and small. The three subsequent groups of
pronouncements mainly consisted of idealistic expansions of themes
implicit in the Fourteen Points, with increasing emphasis on the wishes
of subject populations; but the first of the “Four Ends” was that every
arbitrary power capable by itself of disturbing world peace should be
rendered innocuous.
Wilson’s peace campaign was a significant factor in the collapse of
the will to fight of the German people and the decision of the German
government to sue for peace in October 1918. Indeed, the Germans
conducted their preliminary peace talks exclusively with Wilson. And the
Armistice, when it came on Nov. 11, 1918, was formally based upon the
Fourteen Points and additional Wilsonian pronouncements, with two
reservations by the British and French relating to freedom of the seas
and reparations.
The last offensives and the Allies’ victory
The Western Front, March–September 1918
As the German strength on the Western Front was being steadily
increased by the transfer of divisions from the Eastern Front (where
they were no longer needed since Russia had withdrawn from the war), the
Allies’ main problem was how to withstand an imminent German offensive
pending the arrival of massive reinforcements from the United States.
Eventually Pétain persuaded the reluctant Haig that the British with 60
divisions should extend their sector of the front from 100 to 125 miles
as compared with the 325 miles to be held by the French with
approximately 100 divisions. Haig thus devoted 46 of his divisions to
the front from the Channel to Gouzeaucourt (southwest of German-held
Cambrai) and 14 to the remaining third of the front from Gouzeaucourt
past German-held Saint-Quentin to the Oise River.
On the German side, between Nov. 1, 1917, and March 21, 1918, the
German divisions on the Western Front were increased from 146 to 192,
the troops being drawn from Russia, Galicia, and Italy. By these means
the German armies in the west were reinforced by a total of about
570,000 men. Ludendorff’s interest was to strike from his temporary
position of strength—before the arrival of the major U.S.
contingents—and at the same time to ensure that his German offensive
should not fail for the same reasons as the Allies’ offensives of the
past three years. Accordingly he formed an offensive strategy based on
taking the tactical line of least resistance. The main German attacks
would begin with brief but extremely intense artillery bombardments
using a high proportion of poison gas and smoke shells. These would
incapacitate the Allies’ forward trenches and machine-gun emplacements
and would obscure their observation posts. Then a second and lighter
artillery barrage would begin to creep forward over the Allied trenches
at a walking pace (in order to keep the enemy under fire), with the
masses of German assault infantry advancing as closely as possible
behind it. The key to the new tactics was that the assault infantry
would bypass machine-gun nests and other points of strong resistance
instead of waiting, as had been the previous practice on both sides, for
reinforcements to mop up the obstructions before continuing the advance.
The Germans would instead continue to advance in the direction of the
least enemy resistance. The mobility of the German advance would thus be
assured, and its deep infiltration would result in large amounts of
territory being taken.
Such tactics demanded exceptionally fit and disciplined troops and a
high level of training. Ludendorff accordingly drew the best troops from
all the Western Front forces at his disposal and formed them into elite
shock divisions. The troops were systematically trained in the new
tactics, and every effort was also made to conceal the actual areas at
which the German main attacks would be made.
Ludendorff’s main attack was to be on the weakest sector of the
Allies’ front, the 47 miles between Arras and La Fère (on the Oise). Two
German armies, the 17th and the 2nd, were to break through the front
between Arras and Saint-Quentin, north of the Somme, and then wheel
right so as to force most of the British back toward the Channel, while
the 18th Army, between the Somme and the Oise, protected the left flank
of the advance against counterattack from the south. Code-named
“Michael,” this offensive was to be supplemented by three other attacks:
“St. George I” against the British on the Lys River south of
Armentières; “St. George II” against the British again between
Armentières and Ypres; and “Blücher” against the French in Champagne. It
was finally decided to use 62 divisions in the main attack, “Michael.”
Preceded by an artillery bombardment using 6,000 guns, “Michael” was
launched on March 21, 1918, and was helped by an early morning fog that
hid the German advance from the Allied observation posts. The attack,
which is known as the Second Battle of the Somme or the Battle of
Saint-Quentin, took the British altogether by surprise, but it did not
develop as Ludendorff had foreseen. While the 18th Army under von Hutier
achieved a complete breakthrough south of the Somme, the major attack to
the north was held up, mainly by the British concentration of strength
at Arras. For a whole week Ludendorff, in violation of his new tactical
emphasis, vainly persisted in trying to carry out his original plan
instead of exploiting the unexpected success of the 18th Army, though
the latter had advanced more than 40 miles westward and had reached
Montdidier by March 27. At last, however, the main effort of the Germans
was converted into a drive toward Amiens, which began in force on March
30. By that time the Allies had recovered from their initial dismay, and
French reserves were coming up to the British line. The German drive was
halted east of Amiens and so too was a renewed attack on April 4.
Ludendorff then suspended his Somme offensive. This offensive had
yielded the largest territorial gains of any operation on the Western
Front since the First Battle of the Marne in September 1914.
The Allies’ cause at least derived one overdue benefit from the
collapse of one-third of the British front: at Haig’s own suggestion,
Foch was on March 26 appointed to coordinate the Allies’ military
operations; and on April 14 he was named commander in chief of the
Allied armies. Previously, Haig had resisted the idea of a
generalissimo.
On April 9 the Germans began “St. George I” with an attack on the
extreme northern front between Armentières and the canal of La Bassée,
their aim being to advance across the Lys River toward Hazebrouck. Such
was the initial success of this attack that “St. George II” was launched
the next day, with the capture of Kemmel Hill (Kemmelberg), southwest of
Ypres, as its first objective. Armentières fell, and Ludendorff came to
think for a time that this Battle of the Lys might be turned into a
major effort. The British, however, after being driven back 10 miles,
halted the Germans short of Hazebrouck. French reinforcements began to
come up; and, when the Germans had taken Kemmel Hill (April 25),
Ludendorff decided to suspend exploitation of the advance, for fear of a
counterstroke against his front’s new bulge.
Thus far Ludendorff had fallen short of strategic results, but he
could claim huge tactical successes—the British casualties alone
amounted to more than 300,000. Ten British divisions had to be broken up
temporarily, while the German strength mounted to 208 divisions, of
which 80 were still in reserve. A restoration of the balance, however,
was now in sight. A dozen U.S. divisions had arrived in France, and
great efforts were being made to swell the stream. Furthermore,
Pershing, the U.S. commander, had placed his troops at Foch’s disposal
for use wherever required. See the video.
Ludendorff finally launched “Blücher” on May 27, on a front extending
from Coucy, north of Soissons, eastward toward Reims. The Germans, with
15 divisions, suddenly attacked the seven French and British divisions
opposing them, swarmed over the ridge of the Chemin des Dames and across
the Aisne River, and, by May 30, were on the Marne, between
Château-Thierry and Dormans. Once again the attack’s initial success
went far beyond Ludendorff’s expectation or intention; and, when the
Germans tried to push westward against the right flank of the Allies’
Compiègne salient, which was sandwiched between the Germans’ Amiens and
Champagne bulges, they were checked by counterattacks, which included
one sustained for a fortnight from June 6 by U.S. divisions at Belleau
Wood (Bois de Belleau). An attack from Noyon, against the left flank of
the Compiègne salient, came too late (June 9).
Overtaken by the inordinate fruition of his own offensives,
Ludendorff paused for a month’s recuperation. The tactical success of
his own blows had been his undoing; yielding to their influence, he had
pressed each too far and too long, using up his own reserves and causing
an undue interval between blows. He had driven three great wedges into
the Allied lines, but none had penetrated far enough to sever a vital
rail artery, and this strategic failure left the Germans with a front
whose several bulges invited flanking counterstrokes. Moreover,
Ludendorff had used up many of his shock troops in the attacks, and the
remaining troops, though strong in numbers, were relatively lower in
quality. The Germans were to end up sustaining a total of 800,000
casualties in their great 1918 offensives. Meanwhile, the Allies were
now receiving U.S. troops at the rate of 300,000 men per month.
The next German offensive, which opened the Second Battle of the
Marne, was launched in Champagne on July 15. It came to nothing: a
German thrust from the front east of Reims toward Châlons-sur-Marne was
frustrated by the “elastic defense” that Pétain had recently been
prescribing but that the local commanders had failed to practice against
the offensive of May 27. A drive from Dormans, on the left flank of the
Germans’ huge Soissons–Reims bulge, across the Marne toward Épernay
simply made the Germans’ situation more precarious when Foch’s
long-prepared counterstroke was launched on July 18. In this great
counterstroke one of Foch’s armies assailed the Germans’ Champagne bulge
from the west, another from the southwest, one more from the south, and
a fourth from the vicinity of Reims. Masses of light tanks—a weapon on
which Ludendorff had placed little reliance, preferring gas instead in
his plans for the year—played a vital part in forcing the Germans into a
hasty retreat. By August 2 the French had pushed the Champagne front
back to a line following the Vesle River from Reims and then along the
Aisne to a point west of Soissons.
Having recovered the initiative, the Allies were determined not to
lose it, and for their next blow they chose again the front north and
south of the Somme. The British 4th Army, including Australian and
Canadian forces, with 450 tanks, struck the Germans with maximum
surprise on Aug. 8, 1918. Overwhelming the German forward divisions, who
had failed to entrench themselves adequately since their recent
occupation of the “Michael” bulge, the 4th Army advanced steadily for
four days, taking 21,000 prisoners and inflicting as many or more
casualties at the cost of only about 20,000 casualties to itself, and
halting only when it reached the desolation of the old battlefields of
1916. Several German divisions simply collapsed in the face of the
offensive, their troops either fleeing or surrendering. The Battle of
Amiens was thus a striking material and moral success for the Allies.
Ludendorff put it differently: “August 8 was the black day of the German
Army in the history of the war . . . It put the decline of our fighting
power beyond all doubt . . . The war must be ended.” He informed Emperor
William II and Germany’s political chiefs that peace negotiations should
be opened before the situation became worse, as it must. The conclusions
reached at a German Crown Council held at Spa were that “We can no
longer hope to break the war-will of our enemies by military
operations,” and “the objects of our strategy must be to paralyse the
enemy’s war-will gradually by a strategic defensive.” In other words,
the German high command had abandoned hope of victory or even of holding
their gains and hoped only to avoid surrender.
Meanwhile, the French had retaken Montdidier and were thrusting
toward Lassigny (between Roye and Noyon); and on August 17 they began a
new drive from the Compiègne salient south of Noyon. Then, in the fourth
week of August, two more British armies went into action on the
Arras–Albert sector of the front, the one advancing directly eastward on
Bapaume, the other operating farther to the north. From then on Foch
delivered a series of hammer blows along the length of the German front,
launching a series of rapid attacks at different points, each broken off
as soon as its initial impetus waned, and all close enough in time to
attract German reserves, which consequently were unavailable to defend
against the next Allied attack along a different part of the front. By
the early days of September the Germans were back where they had been
before March 1918—behind the Hindenburg Line.
The Allies’ recovery was consummated by the first feat executed by
Pershing’s U.S. forces as an independent army (hitherto the U.S.
divisions in France had fought only in support of the major French or
British units): the U.S. 1st Army on September 12 erased the triangular
Saint-Mihiel salient that the Germans had been occupying since 1914
(between Verdun and Nancy).
The clear evidence of the Germans’ decline decided Foch to seek
victory in the coming autumn of 1918 instead of postponing the attempt
until 1919. All the Allied armies in the west were to combine in a
simultaneous offensive.
Other developments in 1918
Czechs, Yugoslavs, and Poles
Something must now be said about the growth of the national
movements, which, under the eventual protection of the Allies, were to
result in the foundation of new states or the resurrection of
long-defunct ones at the end of the war. There were three such
movements: that of the Czechs, with the more backward Slovaks in tow;
that of the South Slavs, or Yugoslavs (Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes); and
that of the Poles. The Czech country, namely Bohemia and Moravia,
belonged in 1914 to the Austrian half of the Habsburg monarchy, the
Slovak to the Hungarian half. The Yugoslavs had already been represented
in 1914 by two independent kingdoms, Serbia and Montenegro, but they
were also predominantly numerous in territories still under Habsburg
rule: Serbs in Bosnia and Hercegovina (an Austro-Hungarian condominium)
and in Dalmatia (an Austrian possession); Croats in Croatia (Hungarian),
in Istria (Austrian), and in Dalmatia; Slovenes in Istria and in Illyria
(Austrian likewise). Poland was divided into three parts: Germany had
the north and the west as provinces of the Kingdom of Prussia; Austria
had Galicia (including an ethnically Ukrainian extension to the east);
Russia had the rest.
The Czechs had long been restless under the Austrian regime, and one
of their leading intellectual spokesmen, Tomáš Masaryk (in fact a
Slovak), had already envisaged the carving of Czechoslovak and Yugoslav
states out of Austria-Hungary in December 1914. In 1916 he and a fellow
émigré, Edvard Beneš, based respectively in London and in Paris,
organized a Czechoslovak National Council. The western Allies committed
themselves to the Czechoslovak idea from 1917 onward, when Russia’s
imminent defection from the war made them ready to exploit any means at
hand for the disabling of Austria-Hungary; and Wilson’s sympathy was
implicit in his successive peace pronouncements of 1918.
For the South Slavs of Austria-Hungary the Yugoslav Committee, with
representatives in Paris and in London, was founded in April 1915. On
July 20, 1917, this committee and the Serbian government in exile made
the joint Corfu Declaration forecasting a South Slav state to comprise
Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes.
The Polish nationalist leaders in the first years of the war were
uncertain whether to rely on the Central Powers or on the Allies for a
restoration of Poland’s independence. So long as the western Allies
hesitated to encourage Polish nationalism for fear of offending imperial
Russia, the Central Powers seemed to be the most likely sponsors; and
Austria at least allowed Józef Piłsudski, from 1914, to organize his
volunteer Polish legions to serve with Austrian forces against the
Russians. Austria’s benevolence, however, was not reflected by Germany;
and when the Two Emperors’ Manifesto of Nov. 5, 1916, provided for the
constitution of an independent Polish kingdom, it was clear that this
kingdom would consist only of Polish territory conquered from Russia,
not of any German or Austrian territory. When, after the March
Revolution of 1917, the Russian provisional government had recognized
Poland’s right to independence, Roman Dmowski’s Polish National
Committee, which from 1914 had been functioning in a limited way under
Russian protection, could at last count seriously on the sympathy of the
western Allies. While Piłsudski declined to raise a Polish army to fight
on against the new Russia, a Polish army was formed in France, as well
as two army corps in Belorussia and in the Ukraine, to fight against the
Central Powers. The Bolshevik Revolution and Wilson’s Fourteen Points
together consummated the alignment of the Poles on the side of the
western powers.
Eastern Europe and the Russian periphery, March–November 1918
The Treaty of Brest-Litovsk (March 3, 1918) gave Germany a free hand
to do what it liked with Russia’s former possessions in eastern Europe.
While they pursued their plan of 1916 for a kingdom of Poland, the
Germans took new measures for the other countries. Lithuania, recognized
as independent, was to be a kingdom under some German prince. Latvia and
Estonia were to be merged into a grand duchy of the Baltikum under the
hereditary rule of Prussia. An expeditionary force of 12,000 men, under
General Graf Rüdiger von der Goltz, was sent to Finland to uphold the
Finnish general C.G.E. Mannerheim’s nationalist forces against the Red
Guards, whom the Bolsheviks, despite their recognition of Finland’s
independence, were now promoting there. And finally, the Ukrainian
nationalist government, which had already been challenged by a Communist
one before its separate peace with the Central Powers (Brest-Litovsk,
February 9), was promptly displaced by a new regime after the advance of
German and Austro-Hungarian troops into its territory.
The Romanian armistice of December 1917 was converted into the Treaty
of Bucharest on May 7, 1918. Under this treaty’s terms, southern Dobruja
was ceded to Bulgaria; northern Dobruja was put under the joint
administration of the Central Powers; and the latter obtained virtual
control of Romania’s oil fields and communications. Romania, on the
other hand, had some consolation from Bessarabia, whose nationalists,
after receiving Romanian assistance against the Bolsheviks, had voted in
March 1918 for their country’s conditional union with Romania.
Even Transcaucasia began to slide into the German camp. The
short-lived federal republic was dissolved by its three members’
individual declarations of independence—Georgia’s on May 26, Armenia’s
and Azerbaijan’s on May 28. Treaties of friendship were promptly signed
between Georgia and Germany and between Armenia and Turkey, and Turkish
troops advanced into Azerbaijan, where they occupied Baku on September
15. The western Allies, meanwhile, were hoping that some new semblance
of an Eastern Front could be conjured up if they supported the various
and growing forces in Russia that were opposed to the peacemaking
Bolsheviks. Since the Black Sea and the Baltic were closed to them, the
Allies could land troops only on Russia’s Arctic and Pacific shores.
Thus, the Allied “intervention” in Russia on the side of the
anti-Bolshevik (“White”) forces, long to be execrated by Soviet
historians, began with an Anglo-French landing at Murmansk, in the far
north, on March 9, 1918. The subsequent reinforcement of Murmansk made
possible the occupation of the Murmansk railway as far south as Soroka
(now Belomorsk); and a further landing at Arkhangelsk in the summer
raised the total Allied strength in northern Russia to some 48,000
(including 20,000 Russian “Whites”). By this time, moreover, there were
some 85,000 interventionist troops in Siberia, where a strong Japanese
landing at Vladivostok in April had been followed by British, French,
Italian, and U.S. contingents. A “White” provisional government of
Russia was set up at Omsk, with Admiral A.V. Kolchak as its dominant
personality. The “White” resistance in the south of European Russia,
which had been growing since November 1917, was put under the supreme
command of General A.I. Denikin in April 1918.
The Balkan front, 1918
At Salonika the Allies’ politically ambitious but militarily
ineffective commander in chief, General Sarrail, was replaced at the end
of 1917 by General Guillaumat, who was in turn succeeded in July 1918 by
General L.-F.-F. Franchet d’Esperey, who launched a major offensive in
September with six Serbian and two French divisions against a seven-mile
front held by only one Bulgarian division.
The initial assault, preceded by heavy bombardment at night, began in
the morning of Sept. 15, 1918, and a five-mile penetration was achieved
by nightfall on September 16. The next day the Serbs advanced 20 miles
forward, while French and Greek forces on their flanks widened the
breach to 25 miles. A British attack, launched on September 18 on the
front between the Vardar and Lake Doiran, prevented the Bulgars from
transferring troops westward against the right flank of the penetration;
and by September 19 the Serbian cavalry had reached Kavadarci, at the
apex of the Crna–Vardar triangle. Two days later the whole Bulgarian
front west of the Vardar had collapsed.
While Italian forces in the extreme west advanced on Prilep, the
elated Serbs, with the French beside them, pressed on up the Vardar
Valley. The British in the east now made such headway as to take
Strumica, across the old Bulgarian frontier, on September 26. The
Bulgars then sued for an armistice; and on September 29, when a bold
French cavalry thrust up the Vardar from Veles (Titov Veles) took
Skopje, key to the whole system of communications for the Balkan front,
Bulgarian delegates signed the Armistice of Salonika, accepting the
Allies’ terms unreservedly.
The Turkish fronts, 1918
The British–Turkish front in Palestine in the summer of 1918 ran
from the Jordan River westward north of Jericho and Lydda to the
Mediterranean just north of Jaffa. North of this front there were three
Turkish “armies” (in fact, barely stronger than divisions): one to the
east of the Jordan, two to the west. These armies depended for their
supplies on the Hejaz Railway, the main line of which ran from Damascus
southward, east of the Jordan, and which was joined at Déraa (Darʿā) by
a branch line serving Palestine.
Liman von Sanders, Falkenhayn’s successor as commander of the Turkish
forces in Syria–Palestine, was convinced that the British would make
their main effort east of the Jordan. Allenby, however, was really
interested in taking a straight northerly direction, reckoning that the
Palestine branch rail line at ʿAfula and Beisān, some 60 miles behind
the Turkish front, could be reached by a strategic “bound” of his
cavalry and that their fall would isolate the two Turkish armies in the
west.
Having by ruse and diversion induced the Turks to reduce their
strength in the west, Allenby struck there on Sept. 19, 1918, with a
numerical superiority of 10 to one. In this Battle of Megiddo, a British
infantry attack swept the astonished defenders aside and opened the way
for the cavalry, which rode 30 miles north up the coastal corridor
before swinging inland to cut the Turks’ northward lines of retreat.
ʿAfula, Beisān, and even Nazareth, farther north, were in British hands
the next day.
When the Turks east of the Jordan River began to retreat on September
22, the Arabs had already severed the railway line and were lying in
wait for them; and a British cavalry division from Beisān was also about
to push eastward to intercept their withdrawal. Simultaneously, two more
British divisions and another force of Arabs were racing on toward
Damascus, which fell on October 1. The campaign ended with the capture
of Aleppo and the junction of the Baghdad Railway. In 38 days Allenby’s
forces had advanced 350 miles and taken 75,000 prisoners at a cost of
less than 5,000 casualties.
In Mesopotamia, meanwhile, the British had taken Kifrī, north of the
Diyālā left-bank tributary of the Tigris, in January 1918, and Khān
al-Baghdāẖī, up the Euphrates, in March. Pressing northward from Kifrī,
they took Kirkūk in May but soon evacuated it.
The British centre in Mesopotamia, advancing up the Tigris in
October, was about to capture Mosul when the hostilities were suspended.
The Ottoman government, seeing eastern Turkey defenseless and fearing an
Allied advance against Istanbul from the west now that Bulgaria had
collapsed, decided to capitulate. On October 30 the Armistice of Mudros
was signed, on a British cruiser off Lemnos. The Turks, by its terms,
were to open the Straits to the Allies; demobilize their forces; allow
the Allies to occupy any strategic point that they might require and to
use all Turkey’s ports and railways; and order the surrender of their
remaining garrisons in Arabia, Syria, and Mesopotamia. The centuries-old
Ottoman Empire had come to an end.
Vittorio Veneto
After the stabilization of the Italian front on the Piave River at
the end of 1917, the Austrians made no further move until the following
June. They then tried not only to force the Tonale Pass and enter
northeastern Lombardy but also to make two converging thrusts into
central Venetia, the one southeastward from the Trentino, the other
southwestward across the lower Piave. The whole offensive came to worse
than nothing, the attackers losing 100,000 men.
Diaz, the Italian commander in chief, was meanwhile deliberately
abstaining from positive action until Italy should be ready to strike
with success assured. In the offensive he planned, three of the five
armies lining the front from the Monte Grappa sector to the Adriatic end
of the Piave were to drive across the river toward Vittorio Veneto, so
as to cut communications between the two Austrian armies opposing them.
When Germany, in October 1918, was at last asking for an armistice
(see below The end of the German war), Italy’s time had obviously come.
On October 24, the anniversary of Caporetto, the offensive opened. An
attack in the Monte Grappa sector was repulsed with heavy loss, though
it served to attract the Austrian reserves, and the flooding of the
Piave prevented two of the three central armies from advancing
simultaneously with the third; but the latter, comprising one Italian
and one British corps, having under cover of darkness and fog occupied
Papadopoli Island farther downstream, won a foothold on the left bank of
the river on October 27. The Italian reserves were then brought up to
exploit this bridgehead.
Mutiny was already breaking out in the Austrian forces, and on
October 28 the Austrian high command ordered a general retreat. Vittorio
Veneto was occupied the next day by the Italians, who were also pushing
on already toward the Tagliamento. On November 3 the Austrians obtained
an armistice (see below).
The collapse of Austria-Hungary
The duality of the Habsburg monarchy had been underlined from the
very beginning of the war. Whereas the Austrian parliament, or
Reichsrat, had been suspended in March 1914 and was not reconvened for
three years, the Hungarian parliament in Budapest continued its
sessions, and the Hungarian government proved itself constantly less
amenable to dictation from the military than had the Austrian. The Slav
minorities, however, showed little sign of anti-Habsburg feeling before
Russia’s March Revolution of 1917. In May 1917, however, the Reichsrat
was reconvened, and just before the opening session the Czech
intelligentsia sent a manifesto to its deputies calling for “a
democratic Europe . . . of autonomous states.” The Bolshevik Revolution
of November 1917 and the Wilsonian peace pronouncements from January
1918 onward encouraged socialism, on the one hand, and nationalism, on
the other, or alternatively a combination of both tendencies, among all
peoples of the Habsburg monarchy.
Early in September 1918 the Austro-Hungarian government proposed in a
circular note to the other powers that a conference be held on neutral
territory for a general peace. This proposal was quashed by the United
States on the ground that the U.S. position had already been enunciated
by the Wilsonian pronouncements (the Fourteen Points, etc.). But when
Austria-Hungary, after the collapse of Bulgaria, appealed on October 4
for an armistice based on those very pronouncements, the answer on
October 18 was that the U.S. government was now committed to the
Czechoslovaks and to the Yugoslavs, who might not be satisfied with the
“autonomy” postulated heretofore. The emperor Charles had, in fact,
granted autonomy to the peoples of the Austrian Empire (as distinct from
the Hungarian Kingdom) on October 16, but this concession was ignored
internationally and served only to facilitate the process of disruption
within the monarchy: Czechoslovaks in Prague and South Slavs in Zagreb
had already set up organs ready to take power.
The last scenes of Austria-Hungary’s dissolution were performed very
rapidly. On October 24 (when the Italians launched their very timely
offensive), a Hungarian National Council prescribing peace and severance
from Austria was set up in Budapest. On October 27 a note accepting the
U.S. note of October 18 was sent from Vienna to Washington—to remain
unacknowledged. On October 28 the Czechoslovak committee in Prague
passed a “law” for an independent state, while a similar Polish
committee was formed in Kraków for the incorporation of Galicia and
Austrian Silesia into a unified Poland. On October 29, while the
Austrian high command was asking the Italians for an armistice, the
Croats in Zagreb declared Slavonia, Croatia, and Dalmatia to be
independent, pending the formation of a national state of Slovenes,
Croats, and Serbs. On October 30 the German members of the Reichsrat in
Vienna proclaimed an independent state of German Austria.
The solicited armistice between the Allies and Austria-Hungary was
signed at the Villa Giusti, near Padua, on Nov. 3, 1918, to become
effective on November 4. Under its provisions, Austria-Hungary’s forces
were required to evacuate not only all territory occupied since August
1914 but also South Tirol, Tarvisio, the Isonzo Valley, Gorizia,
Trieste, Istria, western Carniola, and Dalmatia. All German forces
should be expelled from Austria-Hungary within 15 days or interned, and
the Allies were to have free use of Austria-Hungary’s internal
communications and to take possession of most of its warships.
Count Mihály Károlyi, chairman of the Budapest National Council, had
been appointed prime minister of Hungary by his king, the Austrian
emperor Charles, on October 31 but had promptly started to dissociate
his country from Austria—partly in the vain hope of obtaining a separate
Hungarian armistice. Charles, the last Habsburg to rule in
Austria-Hungary, renounced the right to participate in Austrian affairs
of government on November 11, in Hungarian affairs on November 13.
The final offensive on the Western Front
It was eventually agreed among the Allied commanders that Pershing’s
American troops should advance across the difficult terrain of the
Argonne Forest, so that the combined Allied offensive would consist of
converging attacks against the whole German position west of a line
drawn from Ypres to Verdun. Thus, the Americans from the front northwest
of Verdun and the French from eastern Champagne, the former on the west
bank of the Meuse, the latter west of the Argonne Forest, were to launch
attacks on September 26, with Mézières as their objective, in order to
threaten not only the Germans’ supply line along the
Mézières–Sedan–Montmédy railway and the natural line of retreat across
Lorraine but also the hinge of the Antwerp–Meuse defensive line that the
Germans were now preparing. The British were to attack the Hindenburg
Line between Cambrai and Saint-Quentin on September 27 and to try to
reach the key rail junction of Maubeuge, so as to threaten the Germans’
line of retreat through the Liège gap. The Belgians, with Allied
support, were to begin a drive from Ypres toward Ghent on September 28.
The Americans took Vauquois and Montfaucon in the first two days of
their offensive but were soon slowed down, and on October 14, when their
attack was suspended, they had only reached Grandpré, less than halfway
to Mézières. The French advance meanwhile was halted on the Aisne. The
British, though they had broken through the German defenses by October 5
and thenceforward had open country in front of them, could not pursue
the Germans fast enough to endanger their withdrawal. Nevertheless, the
piercing of the Hindenburg Line unnerved the German supreme command. The
Belgians were in possession of all the heights around Ypres by September
30.
The end of the German War
Georg von Hertling, who had taken the place of Michaelis as
Germany’s chancellor in November 1917 but had proved no more capable
than he of restraining Ludendorff and Hindenburg, tendered his
resignation on Sept. 29, 1918, the day of the Bulgarian armistice and of
the major development of the British attack on the Western Front.
Pending the appointment of a new chancellor, Ludendorff and Hindenburg
obtained the Emperor’s consent to an immediate peace move. On October 1
they even disclosed their despondency to a meeting of the leaders of all
the national political parties, thus undermining the German home front
by a sudden revelation of facts long hidden from the public and its
civilian leaders. This new and bleak honesty about Germany’s
deteriorating military situation gave an immense impetus to the native
German forces of pacifism and internal discord. On October 3 the new
chancellor was appointed: he was Prince Maximilian of Baden,
internationally known for his moderation and honorability. Though Max
demanded a few days’ interval lest Germany’s overture for peace should
appear too obviously an admission of imminent collapse, the military
leaders insisted on an immediate move. A German note to Wilson,
requesting an armistice and negotiations on the basis of Wilson’s own
pronouncements, was sent off in the night of October 3–4.
The U.S. answer of October 8 required Germany’s preliminary assent
(1) to negotiations on the sole question of the means of putting
Wilson’s principles into practice and (2) to the withdrawal of German
forces from Allied soil. The German government’s note of October 12
accepted these requirements and suggested a mixed commission to arrange
the postulated evacuation. On October 14, however, the U.S. government
sent a second note, which coupled allusions to Germany’s “illegal and
inhuman” methods of warfare with demands that the conditions of the
armistice and of the evacuation be determined unilaterally by its own
and the Allies’ military advisers and that the “arbitrary power” of the
German regime be removed in order that the forthcoming negotiations
could be conducted with a government representative of the German
people.
By this time the German supreme command had become more cheerful,
even optimistic, as it saw that the piercing of the Hindenburg Line had
not been followed by an actual Allied breakthrough. More encouragement
came from reports of a slackening in the force of the Allies’ attacks,
largely because they had advanced too far ahead of their supply lines.
Ludendorff still wanted an armistice, but only to give his troops a rest
as a prelude to further resistance and to ensure a secure withdrawal to
a shortened defensive line on the frontier. By October 17 he even felt
that his troops could do without a rest. It was less that the situation
had changed than that his impression of it had been revised; it had
never been quite so bad as he had pictured it on September 29. But his
dismal first impression had now spread throughout German political
circles and the public. Though they had endured increasing privations
and were half-starved due to the Allied blockade by mid-1918, the German
people had retained their morale surprisingly well as long as they
believed Germany had a prospect of achieving victory on the Western
Front. When this hope collapsed in October 1918, many, and perhaps even
most, Germans wished only that the war would end, though it might mean
their nation would have to accept unfavourable peace terms. German
public opinion, having been more suddenly disillusioned, was now far
more radically defeatist than the supreme command.
A third German note to the United States, sent on October 20, agreed
to the unilateral settlement of conditions for the armistice and for the
evacuation, in the express belief that Wilson would allow no affront to
Germany’s honour. The answering U.S. note of October 23 conceded
Wilson’s readiness to propose an armistice to the Allies but added that
the terms must be such as to make Germany incapable of renewing
hostilities. Ludendorff saw this, militarily, as a demand for
unconditional surrender and would therefore have continued resistance.
But the situation had passed beyond his control, and on October 26 he
was made to resign by the Emperor, on Prince Max’s advice. On October 27
Germany acknowledged the U.S. note.
Wilson now began to persuade the Allies to agree to an armistice and
negotiations according to the U.S.–German correspondence. They agreed,
with two reservations: they would not subscribe to the second of the
Fourteen Points (on the freedom of the seas); and they wanted
“compensation . . . for damage done to the civilian population . . . and
their property by the aggression of Germany.” Wilson’s note of November
5 apprised the Germans of these reservations and stated that Foch would
communicate armistice terms to Germany’s accredited representatives. On
November 8 a German delegation, led by Matthias Erzberger, arrived at
Rethondes, in the Forest of Compiègne, where the Germans met face to
face with Foch and his party and were informed of the Allies’ peace
terms.
Meanwhile, revolution was shaking Germany. It began with a sailors’
mutiny at Kiel on October 29 in reaction to the naval command’s order
for the High Seas Fleet to go out into the North Sea for a conclusive
battle. Though the U-boat crews remained loyal, the mutiny of the
surface-ship crews spread to other units of the fleet, developed into
armed insurrection on November 3, and progressed to open revolution the
next day. There were disturbances in Hamburg and in Bremen; “councils of
soldiers and workers,” like the Russian soviets, were formed in inland
industrial centres; and in the night of November 7–8 a “democratic and
socialist Republic of Bavaria” was proclaimed. The Social Democrats of
the Reichstag withdrew their support from Prince Max’s government in
order to be free to contend against the Communists for the leadership of
the revolution. While William II, at Spa, was still wondering whether he
could abdicate his imperial German title but remain king of Prussia,
Prince Max, in Berlin on November 9, on his own initiative, announced
William’s abdication of both titles. The Hohenzollern monarchy thus came
to an end, joining those of the Habsburgs and the Romanovs. Prince Max
handed his powers as chancellor over to Friedrich Ebert, a Majority
Social Democrat, who formed a provisional government. A member of this
government, Philipp Scheidemann, hastily proclaimed a republic. On
November 10 William II took refuge in the neutral Netherlands, where on
November 28 he signed his own abdication of his sovereign rights.
The Armistice
The Allies’ armistice terms presented in the railway carriage at
Rethondes were stiff. Germany was required to evacuate not only Belgium,
France, and Alsace-Lorraine but also all the rest of the left (west)
bank of the Rhine, and it had to neutralize that river’s right bank
between The Netherlands and Switzerland. The German troops in East
Africa were to surrender; the German armies in eastern Europe were to
withdraw to the prewar German frontier; the treaties of Brest-Litovsk
and Bucharest were to be annulled; and the Germans were to repatriate
all prisoners of war and hand over to the Allies a large quantity of war
materials, including 5,000 pieces of artillery, 25,000 machine guns,
1,700 aircraft, 5,000 locomotives, and 150,000 railroad cars. And
meanwhile, the Allies’ blockade of Germany was to continue.
Pleading the danger of Bolshevism in a nation on the verge of
collapse, the German delegation obtained some mitigation of these terms:
a suggestion that the blockade might be relaxed, a reduction in the
quantity of armaments to be handed over, and permission for the German
forces in eastern Europe to stay put for the time being. The Germans
might have held out longer for further concessions if the fact of
revolution on their home front had not been coupled with the imminence
of a new blow from the west.
Though the Allied advance was continuing and seemed in some sectors
even to be accelerating, the main German forces had managed to retreat
ahead of it. The Germans’ destruction of roads and railways along the
routes of their evacuation made it impossible for supplies to keep pace
with the advancing Allied troops; a pause in the advance would occur
while Allied communications were being repaired, and that would give the
Germans a breathing space in which to rally their resistance. By
November 11 the Allied advance on the northern sectors of the front had
come more or less to a standstill on a line running from Pont-à-Mousson
through Sedan, Mézières, and Mons to Ghent. Foch, however, now had a
Franco-U.S. force of 28 divisions and 600 tanks in the south ready to
strike through Metz into northeastern Lorraine. Since Foch’s general
offensive had absorbed the Germans’ reserves, this new offensive would
fall on their bared left flank and held the promise of outflanking their
whole new line of defense (from Antwerp to the line of the Meuse) and of
intercepting any German retreat. By this time the number of U.S.
divisions in France had risen to 42. In addition, the British were about
to bomb Berlin on a scale hitherto unattempted in air warfare.
Whether the Allies’ projected final offensive, intended for November
14, would have achieved a breakthrough can never be known. At 5:00 am on
Nov. 11, 1918, the Armistice document was signed in Foch’s railway
carriage at Rethondes. At 11:00 am on the same day, World War I came to
an end.
The fact that Matthias Erzberger, who was a civilian politician
rather than a soldier, headed the German armistice delegation became an
integral part of the legend of the “stab in the back” (Dolchstoss im
Rücken). This legend’s theme was that the German Army was “undefeated in
the field” (unbesiegt im Felde) and had been “stabbed in the back”—i.e.,
had been denied support at the crucial moment by a weary and defeatist
civilian population and their leaders. This theme was adopted soon after
the war’s end by Ludendorff himself and by other German generals who
were unwilling to admit the hopelessness of Germany’s military situation
in November 1918 and who wanted to vindicate the honour of German arms.
The “stab in the back” legend soon found its way into German
historiography and was picked up by German right-wing political
agitators who claimed that Allied propaganda in Germany in the last
stages of the war had undermined civilian morale and that traitors among
the politicians had been at hand ready to do the Allies’ bidding by
signing the Armistice. Adolf Hitler eventually became the foremost of
these political agitators, branding Erzberger and the leaders of the
Social Democrats as the “November criminals” and advocating militaristic
and expansionist policies by which Germany could redeem its defeat in
the war, gain vengeance upon its enemies, and become the preeminent
power in Europe.
Killed, wounded, and missing
The casualties suffered by the participants in World War I dwarfed
those of previous wars: some 8,500,000 soldiers died as a result of
wounds and/or disease. The greatest number of casualties and wounds were
inflicted by artillery, followed by small arms, and then by poison gas.
The bayonet, which was relied on by the prewar French Army as the
decisive weapon, actually produced few casualties. War was increasingly
mechanized from 1914 and produced casualties even when nothing important
was happening. On even a quiet day on the Western Front, many hundreds
of Allied and German soldiers died. The heaviest loss of life for a
single day occurred on July 1, 1916, during the Battle of the Somme,
when the British Army suffered 57,470 casualties.
Sir Winston Churchill once described the battles of the Somme and
Verdun, which were typical of trench warfare in their futile and
indiscriminate slaughter, as being waged between double or triple walls
of cannons fed by mountains of shells. In an open space surrounded by
masses of these guns large numbers of infantry divisions collided. They
fought in this dangerous position until battered into a state of
uselessness. Then they were replaced by other divisions. So many men
were lost in the process and shattered beyond recognition that there is
a French monument at Verdun to the 150,000 unlocated dead who are
assumed to be buried in the vicinity.
This kind of war made it difficult to prepare accurate casualty
lists. There were revolutions in four of the warring countries in 1918,
and the attention of the new governments was shifted away from the grim
problem of war losses. A completely accurate table of losses may never
be compiled. The best available estimates of World War I military
casualties are assembled in Table 4.
Armed forces mobilized and casualties
in World War I*
|
| Russia |
12,000,000 |
1,700,000 |
4,950,000 |
2,500,000 |
9,150,000 |
76.3 |
| British Empire |
8,904,467 |
908,371 |
2,090,212 |
191,652 |
3,190,235 |
35.8 |
| France |
8,410,000 |
1,357,800 |
4,266,000 |
537,000 |
6,160,800 |
73.3 |
| Italy |
5,615,000 |
650,000 |
947,000 |
600,000 |
2,197,000 |
39.1 |
| United States |
4,355,000 |
116,516 |
204,002 |
4,500 |
323,018 |
8.1 |
| Japan |
800,000 |
300 |
907 |
3 |
1,210 |
0.2 |
| Romania |
750,000 |
335,706 |
120,000 |
80,000 |
535,706 |
71.4 |
| Serbia |
707,343 |
45,000 |
133,148 |
152,958 |
331,106 |
46.8 |
| Belgium |
267,000 |
13,716 |
44,686 |
34,659 |
93,061 |
34.9 |
| Greece |
230,000 |
5,000 |
21,000 |
1,000 |
27,000 |
11.7 |
| Portugal |
100,000 |
7,222 |
13,751 |
12,318 |
33,291 |
33.3 |
| Montenegro |
50,000 |
3,000 |
10,000 |
7,000 |
20,000 |
40.0 |
| total |
42,188,810 |
5,142,631 |
12,800,706 |
4,121,090 |
22,064,427 |
52.3 |
| Germany |
11,000,000 |
1,773,700 |
4,216,058 |
1,152,800 |
7,142,558 |
64.9 |
| Austria-Hungary |
7,800,000 |
1,200,000 |
3,620,000 |
2,200,000 |
7,020,000 |
90.0 |
| Turkey |
2,850,000 |
325,000 |
400,000 |
250,000 |
975,000 |
34.2 |
| Bulgaria |
1,200,000 |
87,500 |
152,390 |
27,029 |
266,919 |
22.2 |
| total |
22,850,000 |
3,386,200 |
8,388,448 |
3,629,829 |
15,404,477 |
67.4 |
|
Similar uncertainties exist about the number of civilian deaths
attributable to the war. There were no agencies established to keep
records of these fatalities, but it is clear that the displacement of
peoples through the movement of the war in Europe and in Asia Minor,
accompanied as it was in 1918 by the most destructive outbreak of
influenza in history, led to the deaths of large numbers. It has been
estimated that the number of civilian deaths attributable to the war was
higher than the military casualties, or around 13,000,000. These
civilian deaths were largely caused by starvation, exposure, disease,
military encounters, and massacres.
John Graham Royde-Smith
Ed.