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[Frontispiece: Baron von Freytag-Loringhoven]




  DEDUCTIONS FROM
  THE WORLD WAR


  BY

  BARON VON FREYTAG-LORINGHOVEN

  LIEUTENANT-GENERAL
  AND
  DEPUTY CHIEF OF THE GERMAN IMPERIAL STAFF



  G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
  NEW YORK AND LONDON
  The Knickerbocker Press
  1918




  COPYRIGHT, 1918
  BY
  G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK

  COPYRIGHT
  BY
  CONSTABLE & CO., LTD., LONDON


  The Knickerbocker Press, New York




_INTRODUCTORY NOTE_

_Baron von Freytag-Loringhoven, the author of this book, is the most
distinguished soldier-writer of Prussia.  In other words, since none
will dispute Prussia her militarism, he is the most distinguished
living writer on militarism in theory and practice._

_Freytag comes of a Baltic family.  He was born in Russia, the son of
a Russian diplomatist, and he served in the Russian Army before, at
the age of twenty-one, he joined a Prussian Guard Regiment.  Before
the war he was an influential member of the General Staff in Berlin,
and had made a reputation by his writings on the history and science
of war.  On the outbreak of war he became the German representative
on the Austro-Hungarian General Staff.  The military weakness of
Austria has in recent years been a commonplace in Berlin, and Freytag
duly tells us how the "brave troops" of the Dual Monarchy "had to
suffer for the sins and omissions of which the Parliaments had been
guilty."  When Count Moltke, the Chief of the German General Staff,
was superseded by Falkenhayn, after the failure of the original
German offensive in the West, Freytag became Quartermaster-General in
the field, and Moltke became Deputy Chief of the General Staff--that
is to say, head of such parts of the General Staff Organization as
remain in Berlin, while the main business of the General Staff is
conducted from "Great Headquarters" in the field._

_At the beginning of August, 1916, Falkenhayn was superseded in his
turn by Hindenburg, after the German failure at Verdun.  Freytag's
post of Quartermaster-General was merged in the larger post which was
now created for Ludendorff, and, Moltke having died in June, Freytag
was appointed in September, 1916, to the post, which he still holds,
of Deputy Chief of the General Staff._

_Shortly before his appointment, Freytag's position as chief writer
to the Prussian Army was put beyond dispute by his decoration with
the Order Pour le Mérite (Peace Class).  The Order Pour le Mérite
(Military Class) was founded by Frederick the Great, and has now been
conferred upon innumerable Prussian officers.  Freytag is apparently
the only officer who has received during the present war the Order
Pour le Mérite (Peace Class), which was founded by Frederick William
IV in 1842, and is conferred for distinction in "Science and Arts."_

_"DEDUCTIONS FROM THE WORLD WAR" was written for German consumption.
As soon as a few German newspaper reviews called attention to its
contents, and especially to the chapters "The Army in the Future" and
"Still Ready for War" with their candid explanation of the way in
which Germany proposes, this war finished, to prepare for the next,
all comment was restricted or suppressed.  Circulation of the book in
Germany was promoted, but its export was prohibited, and very few
copies have found their way across the frontier._

_This book is interesting as an attempt to lay the foundations of
"history"; it is comparable with the "popular edition" of Moltke's
"History of the Franco-German War of 1870," upon which a whole
generation of Germany was brought up, while the real history of the
war was being written in France--for posterity.  The book is very
instructive as a denunciation of international ideals and as a
warning of the plans which are being made in Berlin for the cold and
reasoned application of the lessons of the war and the development of
a still more scientific military system, a still more perfect
war-machine, than existed in 1914.  Again, we have here, on the best
possible authority, the warning that Germany--with all her avowed
indignation at the idea of an economic "war after the war"--is
determined not only to rebuild her military system, but to build it
this time upon an indestructible economic foundation.  But above all
Freytag's book is a revelation because he says what Germany thinks.
"War has its basis in human nature," he writes, "and as long as human
nature remains unaltered, war will continue to exist, as it has
existed already for thousands of years."  That view is universal in
Germany, and to the German people Freytag's deductions will seem to
be only logic and common sense.  In reality, Freytag the soldier says
nothing a whit stronger in praise of militarism than is said in his
apt quotations from Prince Bülow the civilian.  Militarism is not a
Prussian invention; militarism is Prussia herself.  And so long as
Prussia rules Germany, all talk that seeks to distinguish "war
parties" from "peace parties," "militarists" from "statesmen" is
misleading._

_J.E.M._

_December, 1917._




AUTHOR'S FOREWORD

It may seem presumptuous to draw conclusions from the World War while
it is still in progress.  And yet it is imperative that we should be
clear in regard to a number of questions which have presented
themselves as a result of the War.  We must look for their solution
in the State and the Army.  The War must admonish us to submit our
whole national life and our military organisation to an examination
in the light of the experiences which we have gained.  Such an
examination cannot and should not be much longer postponed.

Without clear views and an adequate understanding of the major
sequences of the War, not only as regards operations and tactics, but
also as regards world-politics and world-economics, without carefully
balancing the new experience that it has brought us against all that
it has confirmed and that has to be maintained, we shall not be in a
position to draw accurate deductions for the future.  Towards this
the writer hopes to contribute by means of the following arguments.
They are addressed equally to the Army and the nation.




CONTENTS


CHAP.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

AUTHOR'S FOREWORD

I.  THE POLITICAL AND ECONOMIC SITUATION OF THE CENTRAL POWERS

II.  THE PSYCHOLOGY OF NATIONAL AND MASSED WARFARE

III.  THE INFLUENCE OF TECHNICAL SCIENCE

IV.  LEADERSHIP

V.  THE ARMY IN THE FUTURE

VI.  STILL READY FOR WAR




  DEDUCTIONS FROM THE
  WORLD WAR



I

  THE POLITICAL AND ECONOMIC SITUATION
  OF THE CENTRAL POWERS

The grouping of the Powers at the beginning and still more during the
course of the World War has been extremely unfavourable to the
Central Powers.  We must go back to the desperate struggle of
Frederick the Great in the Seven Years' War to find anything
comparable to it.  Napoleon, too, found himself at length pitted
against all Europe, but the comparative strength of the opposed
forces at the beginning of the autumn campaign of 1813 was by no
means unfavourable to him.  The Allies at that time possessed only an
insignificant superiority of numbers.  Moreover, our enemies have not
had to endure what Field-Marshal Count Schlieffen in 1909 justly
deduced from the history of previous coalition wars:

"Even when all objections have been disposed of, every difficulty
overcome, even when resolution is ripened, and a powerful advance
from all sides is about to be set on foot, yet in the breast of every
individual the anxious question will still arise: Will the others
come?  Will our distant Allies take their stand at the right time?"[1]

Not only did all the Allies take their stand, but, in addition, they
were reinforced by our former allies, Italy and Roumania, while
America showed herself more and more clearly a secret ally of the
Entente Powers, rendering the most valuable services by furnishing
them with all manner of requisites of war and pecuniary loans, long
before she openly took up her stand against us in February, 1917, by
severing diplomatic relations and in April by declaring a state of
war.  However valuable to Germany and Austria-Hungary has been the
alliance of Turkey and later of Bulgaria, an equilibrium of forces
could not, of course, be effected by means of these States.  England
has been successful in keeping the Entente together, and has utilised
the fact that the destruction of the Central Powers proved to be far
more difficult than had been anticipated in order to strengthen the
bond between herself and her Allies.  They had involved themselves in
a common undertaking, which had not prospered according to
expectations.  Now there was no alternative but to carry it through,
for to give it up would be equivalent to a confession of utter
failure and defeat.  The ties which bound the Continental Allies to
England were constantly reinforced by the promise held out of
territorial acquisitions, as well as by monetary aids.  In this
connection England's favourable position in world-politics and
world-economics stood her in noticeably good stead.  The more the
prospect vanished of inflicting on us a military defeat with the aid
of the blockade, the more England strengthened her endeavour to
secure that we should at any rate find ourselves after the War in an
unfavourable economic position, both geographically and in respect of
commercial treaties.  England gave expression to her desire for war
and victory by creating a strong land-army, finally adopting the
system of universal service.  In so doing she broke with her
traditional custom of waging Continental wars to all intents and
purposes by means of the armies of her Allies.

In the wars against Louis XIV England had already raised herself to
the position of a great Colonial Power and had won for herself
supremacy on the sea.  As a result of the Seven Years' War, she
became a World-Power.  It was not, however, until the American War of
Independence that she entered upon a period of world-policy and
world-economics.  It has justly been said:[2]

"World-trade there had long been, but not world-policy.  Not even
England possessed the latter, in spite of her world-embracing
settlements and dominions.  In fact there existed only European
policy.  World-policy could only come into being when in the other
continents, as well as in our own, independent and permanent centres,
capable of asserting themselves against the European Great Powers,
had shaped for themselves a State existence.  This happened in the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in the case of America, and in
the twentieth century in the case of Japan."

In the European Continental wars up to 1870-71, when we were still
predominantly an agrarian State, questions of world-policy and
world-economics had played a comparatively subordinate role.  It has
been the development of our trade, combined with the increase of our
population, which, in the course of this World War, has thrown into
special prominence the significance of these questions in relation to
our Fatherland.  The import of raw materials, foodstuffs, and
manufactured articles, the export of the products of our industries,
had become essential conditions of our economic life.  In regard to
these questions the outbreak of the World War found us insufficiently
prepared.  Such measures as we had taken were shown to be inadequate.
Hence in our conduct of the War we were faced with a difficult
problem, which had not arisen in the case of previous wars on the
European mainland.  We found ourselves not only at such a
disadvantage in regard to the general political situation as we had
not hitherto experienced, and, as a consequence of this, faced with
an overwhelming superiority of numbers, but also we had to grapple
with an economic situation as difficult as could possibly be
imagined.  This is not the place to examine how far, in view of the
all too rapid growth of her trade, world-policy and world-economics
may have been premature in the case of Germany, inasmuch as our
continental position was still by no means sufficiently assured.
Here Ranke's words are applicable: "Who can control circumstances,
calculate future events, govern the surging of the elements?"[3]
Even the power of prevision attributed to great men is after all very
limited.  Friedjung[4] remarks justly that the real necessity of
events and of all which we assert to have taken place in accordance
with the laws of history only becomes apparent when the history of
the world is considered in large epochs; that, for the rest, history
is an ingenious tissue of necessity and chance, and that to estimate
future events is consequently hardly possible even for the most
clear-sighted contemporary observers.  Hence diplomats have often
been unjustly accused of furnishing an incorrect report in regard to
a foreign country, concerning which they were supposed to possess an
exact knowledge.  Even the most perfect knowledge of a country does
not endow its possessor with the capacity to foresee coming events,
although, of course, the gift of exact observation exists in
different degrees in different individuals.  It might well be
imagined that, in this age of extreme publicity, it should be easy
enough to form a trustworthy estimate of a foreign country and its
armed power.  The Press and the proceedings of Parliament furnish a
host of details from which to build up a complete picture, but
whether this picture will prove accurate in case of war is a matter
of doubt, for many unforeseen accidents, notably those resulting from
the power of personality, are in such matters peculiarly likely to
affect the issue.  Thus the abundance of news which we have at our
disposal at the present day may easily serve only to obscure and
distract.

The consequences of the blockade to which the Central Powers were
subjected made themselves felt at once.  Although we have succeeded
by our own might in developing and carrying on our economic life
during the War, none the less the advantages of our economic position
in the world have made themselves felt all the time.  They alone
explain the fact that new opportunities of resistance constantly
revealed themselves to our opponents, because the sea was open to
them, and that victories which formerly would have been absolutely
decisive, and the conquest of whole kingdoms, still brought us no
nearer to peace.  Thus was Russia able to recover from the severe
defeats of the summer of 1915 and to attack once more in the
following year with newly-equipped armies.

Though the American Admiral Mahan, in his famous book, _The Influence
of Sea-Power on History_, summed up the result of the Seven Years'
War as follows: On the sea, immense success and material gain for
England, on land, enormous sacrifice of men, with the sole result
that the _status quo_ was maintained; though he asserts, moreover,
that the British fleet contributed most towards the overthrow of
Napoleon by cutting him off from the most important of all sources
for replenishing supplies, namely, the sea, the question of sea-power
was not really of decisive importance in those times.  Pitt, in his
speech in Parliament against the Peace of Paris of 1763, already
emphasised the fact that North America had been conquered for England
in Germany.  Napoleon was defeated on land.  The Continental States
of that time, pre-eminently France, were still agrarian States, and
far better able than now to suffice for their own needs for a long
time.  In our days of world-policy and world-economics, the views of
the famous naval writer are far more in accordance with actuality.
The fact that we have resorted to submarine warfare as a means of
self-defence is in itself a proof of it.  The unsparing application
of this new weapon will hasten materially the end of this mighty
economic conflict, by means of the economic difficulties which it
will create for our opponents and for neutrals.  The World War
affords incontrovertible proof that Germany must for all time to come
maintain her claim to sea-power.  We need not at present discuss by
what means this aim is to be achieved.

As the result of our geographical situation, it will always remain
our task to form a just estimate of the opposing demands of
world-economics and national economics in the narrower sense, and of
oversea and continental politics.  Even in land-warfare, economic
considerations have played a very considerable part.  The occupation
by our troops of Belgium and of the coal and industrial district of
Northern France, as well as of Poland, Lithuania, and Kurland,
procured us important economic advantages and involved a
corresponding loss to our enemies.  The main object of the Serbian
campaign was to establish a land communication with Turkey, whose
obstinate defence of the Dardanelles had rendered us signal service,
since it barred the exit from and entry to the harbours of the Black
Sea against Russia.  At the same time, the operations against Serbia
procured us the valuable alliance of Bulgaria.  Not only did we
acquire by this means an accession of strength against the numerical
superiority of our enemies, but also the possibility of trade
intercourse with the Balkan States.  A year later, the unwelcome
hostility of Roumania and her overthrow procured us further economic
advantages and secured our position in regard to the whole of the
Balkans.  Now, as always, it is the sword which decides in war; it is
victory on the battle-field that gives the decision, but its effect
is far more dependent than it used to be on world-economic factors.
These factors are to be traced through the whole of this War.

To be sure, modern times had already witnessed one great economic
war.  The American Civil War of the sixties of last century arose out
of the economic antagonism between the trading and industrial States
of the North and the cotton-growing States of the South of the Union.
In the latter, cultivation by the aid of slaves formed the basis of
the industry, and to this extent the slave question was a factor in
the dispute.  It was not, however, until later that the demand for
the abolition of slavery found wide expression in the North and was
utilised as a welcome means of stirring up feeling against the South.
The real points at issue were that the Northern States wanted high
protective duties, while the Southern States wanted to facilitate
export, and that the Northern States had a special interest in
utilising the customs revenues for investments which should above all
be of advantage to their trade, but which were a matter of
indifference to the South.  The American War of Secession, like
everything else American at that time, attracted little attention
with us.  Germany was still only a geographical conception; there
could be no question of a world-policy for its component States.
Moreover, our own wars of 1864, 1866, and 1870-71, claimed all our
attention.  Yet, different as were the cause, the development, and
the other conditions of the American Civil War compared with the
present World War, the economic factors which in each case found
expression have engendered more than one similar phenomenon.  The
Northern States endeavoured at the outset, by the aid of their
imposing fleet, to cut off the Southern States, which had no
battle-fleet worth mentioning, from their sea-borne supplies, and,
also, on land, from the Mississippi and the corn-growing States of
the South-West, and thus paralyse them economically.  The valour of
the Southern troops, who were far inferior numerically, as well as of
their generals, and, above all, the distinguished leadership of Lee,
for four years rendered impossible the accomplishment of this
so-called "Anaconda plan," until the Southern States finally
succumbed to the blockade.

Things never quite repeat themselves in history.  But we may learn
from history.  Not in order to be more prudent another time, but in
order to be wise for all time, as Jacob Burckhardt says.  In this
sense, the American Civil War might have furnished us many a hint
which was left disregarded.  But we must confess, as Professor
Bernhard Harms said in a lecture, that in August, 1914, we found
ourselves confronted with the problem of conducting a war governed by
world-economic considerations without immediately comprehending it.
To be sure, our opponents too only gradually perceived the true
situation.  The operations which they had begun extracted only little
by little the full advantage of the world-economic situation, which
was favourable to them and unfavourable to us; they did so only when
they met with an unexpected force of resistance in the Central
Powers.  But in any case, in our military conduct of the War, we drew
the necessary conclusions from the world-situation, and were at pains
to turn it to account by means of a far-reaching organisation.

In every domain only the War itself could be the great teacher in
regard to these hitherto unknown effects of world-economics upon its
range.  It was generally taken for granted that a long war was in
these days hardly practicable.  For England it was "a commercial war
with a view to her own enrichment and the annihilation of her chief
rival."[5]  Nevertheless, even England did not at the outset reckon
for a war of such long duration.  Only when it became apparent that
the forcible annihilation of her "chief rival" by the aid of her
Allies was not to be accomplished did England find herself compelled
to make considerable additions to her fighting forces, and finally to
adopt the system of universal service.  Lord Kitchener was prompt in
grasping the situation, and, by erecting a strong army, put the
country in a position to sustain a long war.

Even Field-Marshal Count Schlieffen, for all his farsightedness,
though he insisted that the frontal attack would produce no decisive
result, but that the campaign would drag itself out, declared in the
article already referred to:

"Such wars are, however, impossible at a time when the existence of
the nation is based upon the unbroken continuance of trade and
industry, and the machinery which has been brought to a standstill
must be set in motion again by a speedy decision.  A strategy of
exhaustion becomes impossible, when the maintenance of it demands
milliards from millions."

This frontal wearing down of forces in entrenched warfare has none
the less taken place on most sections of the fronts; but we have
reaped positive results only from the war of movement.  The
present-day world has, contrary to expectation, proved itself capable
of enduring a long war, though at the cost of such destruction as
humanity has never before experienced.  The expenditure of milliards
would to be sure have been avoided, if we had succeeded, as Count
Schlieffen in the same argument goes on to suggest, in conducting the
attack on a large scale against the front and both flanks of the
enemy, and in developing it to a sweeping victory.  We did, in fact,
achieve several local victories of this nature, but we did not
achieve such a victory at the Marne with our whole western army at
the beginning of the War.  It is fruitless to picture to oneself how,
if the case had been otherwise, events might have developed in
detail, but we may confidently assert that a complete German victory
at the Marne in September, 1914, would have given quite another
character to the whole War, and would certainly have shortened it
very considerably.  From this may be seen the full significance of a
decisive military success, even in a war so influenced by
world-economics as the present.



[1] _Deutsche Revue_, January, 1909.

[2] Alexander v. Peetz.  Introduction to _Weltpolitische
Neubildungen_, by Paul Dehn.

[3] _Ursprung des Siebenjährigen Krieges_.

[4] _Der Kampf um die Vorherrschaft in Deutschland_, Introduction to
Vol. II.

[5] Dr. Georg Solmssen.  _England und Wir!_ Lecture delivered at
Cologne, November 13, 1916.




II

  THE PSYCHOLOGY OF NATIONAL AND
  MASSED WARFARE

In the course of the present World War the soul of a war waged by
means of great national armies has revealed itself as something
special, something hitherto inexperienced.  Its origin may be traced
back to the time of the French Revolution.  The _levée en masse_ of
the French Republic is, to be sure, to a great extent legendary.  It
furnished hardly a quarter of the anticipated man-power.
Clausewitz[1] remarks justly:

"If the whole War of the Revolution passed over without all this
making itself felt in its full force and becoming quite evident; if
the generals of the Revolution did not persistently press on to the
final extreme, and did not overthrow the monarchies in Europe; if the
German armies now and again had the opportunity of resisting with
success and checking for a time the torrent of victory--the cause lay
in reality in that technical incompleteness with which the French had
to contend, which showed itself first among the common soldiers, then
in the generals, lastly, at the time of the Directory, in the
Government itself.  After all this was perfected by the hand of
Buonaparte, this military power, based on the strength of the whole
nation, marched over Europe, smashing everything in pieces so surely
and certainly that wherever it encountered only the old-fashioned
armies, the result was not doubtful for a moment."

Yet Napoleon waged his victorious wars with a prætorian army.  Only
at the period of his decline did he utilise the national strength to
a fuller extent.  After the overthrow of his army in Russia, he made
what were for those days enormous levies in France, amounting in all
to 1,237,000 men.  Even at the time when his power was increasing, it
was not so much the strength of the armies which he placed in the
field that decided the issue as the fact that the other States were
not at that time in a position to make good their losses by a
continual requisitioning of the national strength.

The French people did not by any means flock enthusiastically to the
Imperial flag.  After the repulse of the invasion of 1792, their
warlike ardour had been more and more extinguished.  In the case of
the increased levies of the last year of the First Empire, it was
necessary to resort to violent measures in order to carry out the
conscription.  Hence, though the Napoleonic army was supported upon
the national strength, it was never a national army in the true sense
of the term.

On the other hand, the designation "national army" exactly applies to
the Prussian army of the War of Liberation.  The population of the
diminished and impoverished Prussian State at that time numbered less
than five millions, and of this number the Prussian army included in
August, 1813, not less than 271,000 men.  Moreover, the recourse to
the provinces for the organisation of the _Landwehr_ gave the army a
special character.  By the retention of universal military service
even after the war, the Prussian army was differentiated from the
armies of other States.  In Prussia alone, after the great campaigns
of the beginning of the nineteenth century, did a genuine fusion take
place between nation and army.  But even in 1870-71 the strain upon
our national strength for the purposes of war was nothing like as
great as in the present World War.  We entered upon the
Franco-Prussian War with the advantage on our side, and therefore it
appeared to many unnecessary to requisition the national strength
more extensively than had been done hitherto.

Only reluctantly did Roon accede to Moltke's demand on December 8,
1870, for further supplies of troops, which were rendered necessary
by the growing extension of the theatre of war and by the mass-levies
of the Republic in the second period of the war; and yet how modest
appears this demand compared with the conditions of the present day.
It amounted only to the calling up of fifty-seven Landwehr battalions
which were employed at home for guarding prisoners or for coast
defence, and the transfer to Alsace-Lorraine of a number of reserve
battalions.  This proposal, emanating from the Chief of the General
Staff, was to be sure the result of the increasing difficulties which
the national war in France was causing, but although even at that
time nation was contending against nation on French soil, yet the
armies of the Republic consisted only of masses of men hurriedly
scrambled together, who were again and again routed by the onset of
the German troops, which, though far inferior in numbers, were vastly
superior in fighting efficiency.  Thus even the 950,000 men whom
France still had under arms at the conclusion of the war could not
alter the fate of the country.

"Gambetta believed," writes Arthur Chuquet,[2] "that the legendary
marvels of 1792 and 1793 could be repeated.  He overlooked the fact
that it was the cowardice and lack of discipline of the volunteer
forces of the First Republic which were mainly responsible for the
defeat of the revolutionary armies, and that the Republic at that
time was saved, not by the heroism of its troops, but by dissension
within the coalition."

The campaign against the army of the Second Empire had demonstrated
the superiority of our own army based upon the principle of universal
military service.  The campaign against the Republic revealed the
hopelessness of the resistance of a completely improvised militia to
disciplined troops.  Nevertheless, no really new points of view in
the realm of war psychology were revealed in this instance.  Quite
otherwise was it in the case of the American Civil War.  Here the
Southern States were very soon compelled to resort to universal
military service, and the Northern States to raise larger and larger
volunteer levies, with a longer term of service.  Like every other
civil war, this was steeped in the hatred of both parties.  In the
Southern States the reaction of the national character upon military
efficiency was revealed very clearly.  They continued their
resistance to the utmost limit.  But Europe, up to the outbreak of
the World War, had not witnessed any such phenomena in war.  It was
the adoption of universal military service by all the Great Powers,
as a result of the German victories of 1870-71, which first
introduced a new element into the conduct of war.  This inevitably
made itself all the more perceptible when the increased facilities of
communication of modern times rendered the nations more closely
coherent within their own borders and more accessible to the
suggestive influence of the Press for good as well as for ill.  That
men have always been susceptible to suggestion is demonstrated by the
spread of religious fanaticism, but the present age has increased
this susceptibility still further.  Even distinguished minds are
subject to mass-suggestion, as is shown in the case of numerous
distinguished scholars and artists among our enemies.  Neither
judgment nor good taste availed to prevent them from joining in the
general orgies of hatred directed against everything German.

Among the factors which have contributed in recent times to increase
this susceptibility of the masses must be counted the political
elections, which have everywhere stirred up passions and prejudiced
sound judgment.  They alone explain many events which have taken
place in America.  In the several States there are over twenty
offices which have to be filled annually by means of public
elections.  And in these it is not the personal opinion of the voter
that counts, but the party politicians and their whips.  It is the
ingenuity and unscrupulousness of the latter, as well as their
expenditure of large sums of money, that decide the issue.  It is, in
fact, in the great democratic republics that we find the worst form
of moral servitude.  The widely-diffused but superficial education of
the masses renders them peculiarly open to suggestion.  The sense of
unity of whole nations has been considerably enhanced by the fact
that in present-day warfare the entire population is involved either
directly or indirectly.  The countries as a whole are implicated
economically.

In 1914 for the first time France opposed to our national army an
army organised upon the basis of universal military service; an army,
moreover, in which hatred against everything German had been kindled
by the assiduous fostering through decades of the agitation for a war
of _revanche_.  The overwhelming impression of our initial successes,
which had by no means been anticipated when Germany was attacked on
all sides, inflamed these passions still further.  The Swiss writer
Stegemann, in his history of this War,[3] suggests that it may have
been suspected in foreign countries that the preparedness of
Germany's army and navy, which had been achieved during long years by
infinite labour and feverish activity, was merely apparent and was
associated with a degeneration of nervous force.

"To this suspicion the campaigns of this War have furnished a heroic
answer.  When the order of mobilisation was published, all trace of
nervousness vanished.  Even from a distance one could perceive the
power and energy of a military organisation which was suddenly called
from its tranquil development to perform the most exalted
achievements.  This gave nourishment to the theory that Germany had
intentionally provoked the War.  The thoroughness in execution which
was really due to the character and constitution of the nation was
misconstrued as the deliberate provocation of war."

As a result of the thoughtless adoption of _franc-tireur_ methods of
warfare in Belgium, with the support and approval of the authorities,
the War acquired from the outset still more of the character of a
struggle of nation against nation.  The principle that war is
directed only against the armed strength of the enemy-State and not
against its population could not under these circumstances be upheld
by our troops.  They found themselves compelled to resort to severe
measures of retaliation.  Thus the War acquired a character of
brutality which is otherwise very alien to the nature of our
well-conducted German soldiers.

The self-assurance of the French army, which had already begun to
waver, was restored after the Battle of the Marne.  Subsequently the
French authorities left no stone unturned in order, with the aid of a
corrupt and lying Press, to sustain the confidence of the nation in
an ultimate victory.  The continued augmentation of the allied
English army, the alleged inexhaustible reserves of Russia (in spite
of all the defeats which she had suffered), the entry into the War of
Italy, and, later, of Roumania as Allies, the munitions furnished by
America, and finally her open partnership against us--all this had to
be utilised again and again to strengthen the tissue of lies which
France wove round herself more and more closely, so closely that the
French finally lost all sense of truth.  Thus the French army is
inspired, even if not consciously so in all its members, with the
feeling that it is not only a question of freeing the native soil
from a hated invader, but also of a struggle for the future
world-position of France.  The characteristics of the French soldier
have always been a product rather of his race than of any military
training.  They explain the devotion and the contempt of death with
which whole divisions have hurled themselves forward again and again
in dense masses in hopeless attempts to break through.

The French national character exhibits striking contradictions.  High
and noble qualities exist side by side with base impulses.  The
French soldier exhibits heroic courage side by side with the
instincts of a "_Nettoyeur_," and, in the treatment of our prisoners,
his conduct has been worthy of an apache.  The French officers have
completely lost that chivalrous sentiment which as late as 1870 found
expression in the words of an old Frenchman: "The person of a
prisoner is sacred."  The French, both white and black, and their
women no less, have not scrupled to jeer at and ill-treat our
prisoners in the most flagrant manner, and the Government of the
Republic has in general furnished an example of unworthy treatment of
prisoners.  The naturally amiable and, under ordinary circumstances,
good-natured Frenchman easily degenerates, as a result of his
excitable temperament, into the very opposite.  The history of the
wars of religion and of the Revolution affords evidence of the fact.
The human beast is always roused in him with surprising suddenness.
His characteristic light-heartedness engenders in him a
disinclination to think things out to a conclusion.  This renders him
very susceptible to influence, and prevents him from seeing through
the tissue of lies presented to him in the newspapers.  While the
Frenchman had always displayed military aptitude, his training in
time of peace upon the basis of universal military service had only
still further developed his good military qualities, and he has never
exhibited those failings which formerly and often erroneously have
been attributed to French armies, such as lack of endurance in
difficult situations, the inability to endure defeats, susceptibility
to panic.  The effect of universal military service has manifestly
been to discipline the whole nation, and to furnish an appropriate
vessel for its always very strongly developed sense of unity.  Those
who judged the French nation by the customary standard of former days
have been astonished at their conduct in this War.

As England has developed into a Land Power only in the course of this
War, it has been only by degrees that warlike enthusiasm has infected
the masses of her people.  England, great as have been her feats of
organisation, has never been able to make up for the advantage with
which France entered the War owing to her possession of universal
military service.  Since she took her time, and the nature of
entrenched warfare made it possible, England was able, however, to
furnish her numerous new formations with a training which was lacking
in the armies of Gambetta.  Nevertheless, the new English divisions
could not attain either the coherence of the old troops of the
expeditionary army first dispatched to France or the fighting value
of the French troops.  The English reached a high degree of technical
efficiency, but their fighting tactics remained defective.  Also, for
all that tough courage peculiar to the Englishman, they lacked that
spirit which can be engendered only by the consciousness of a lofty
national purpose such as that for which the French were fighting.  In
place of her voluntary army England gradually built up for herself on
French soil a national army; but, voluntary army or national army, it
served only the ends of English politics and the economic war against
Germany.  If the purpose of the War played only a minor part in the
case of the voluntary army, it played a very considerable part in the
case of the national army.  If this purpose was not presented clearly
and comprehensively to the understanding of every individual, the
maximum amount of effort could not be expected from this army.  In
stirring up and working upon the feelings of the masses, England in
fact showed no more scruples than France.  Though the Englishman is
less excitable by temperament, he is all the more obstinate in
clinging to a notion which has once taken root in his mind.  This
stirring up of hatred has in his case, too, engendered distressing
excesses as regards the treatment of German prisoners.  In certain
cases, even if not as a general rule, the English have shown
themselves not behind the French in brutality.

Thus we had to wage war against enemies who were under the influence
of a mass-psychosis.  This has engendered phenomena such as Europe
had not witnessed since the time of the wars of religion.  Deeds of
horror and senseless rage of destruction, such as are described for
us in _Simplicissimus_ have again made themselves manifest.  The
notion that humanity as a whole had advanced spiritually was proved
to be an error.  The vast distance between civilisation and _Kultur_
was clearly revealed.

After the Thirty Years' War an effort was made to alleviate, by
careful training of the men, the horrors of war due to the outrages
of the military rabble.  Thus it was asserted in praise of Prince
Eugène of Savoy that in the neighbourhood of his camp the peasant
could till his field unmolested.  Instead of war being made to feed
itself, a complicated system of supplies was adopted.  The result was
that the war strategy of the weak voluntary armies of that time
became fixed more and more into a conventional mould, from which
Frederick the Great was the first to emancipate it, so far as the
limited means available at that time rendered this possible.
Subsequently, under Napoleon, war developed more and more into "true
war," to use Fichte's expression.  This transformation, however,
could be fully effected only by means of universal military service.
Universal military service holds sway over our age and for
generations will not vanish.  To it Prussia-Germany owes her
advancement, and it was inevitable that, when all the Great Powers
adopted it, the violence of war should again be augmented.  We must
not let the bright side of universal service blind us to its dark
side.  Henceforth the passion of war infected whole nations, and this
passion was constantly inflamed anew by contact with that of the
enemy.  Therewith many of those barriers were overthrown by means of
which the professional soldiery, preserving the chivalrous customs of
the Middle Ages, had sought to check the excesses of war.  Also the
barriers which International Law had sought to oppose to the
encroachments of war collapsed in the face of this new violence.

At the same time factors were introduced into the World War which
could not fail to react upon the strategical and tactical conditions
and which it will be impossible to disregard in the future.  They
call for a new standard in measuring the efficiency of armies.  Thus
the efficiency of the German troops far surpasses that which might
have been expected according to the standard of earlier times.  Even
in regard to the operations at the Loire at the turn of the year
1870-71, the late Field-Marshal Freiherr von der Goltz wrote in his
Reminiscences[4]:

"With the exception of a few stout hearts, everyone was sick of even
the most successful battles.  The fire of war still burnt, but with a
dim and flickering light.  The craving to enjoy at length the
longed-for term of tranquillity was very widespread."

In these words is reflected the effect of an exhausting triumphal
progress which the second army had pushed into the heart of the enemy
country.  Here, in fact, the thought might well intrude: Have we not
now had victory enough?  And yet at that time less than five months
of war had elapsed, and the course of the war had been
extraordinarily successful.  The troops had not undergone anything
like such tremendous experiences as they have had in the present
World War.  In this War the consciousness that our national existence
is at stake has raised us above ourselves.

All of us, leaders as well as men, have human weaknesses, and
assuredly not all German soldiers are heroes by nature.  But it is
precisely in this--in the fact that the weak are carried along with
the strong--that the educative force of this struggle for the
existence of Germany is revealed.  The weak could not do otherwise
than strive to be heroes.  Reverses, such as were occasionally
inevitable in this long and tremendous War, have doubtless had a
temporarily depressing effect upon the troops, and after efforts and
a consumption of nervous force such as have never been experienced in
any previous wars, the craving for rest has sometimes made itself
felt.  But even in the third year of the War, the fire of war did not
merely flicker with a dim light, but was constantly rekindled to
fresh flame.  In Transylvania and Roumania and in Eastern Galicia in
1917 the troops displayed an ardour equal to that of the first days
of the War.  The magic of victory enabled them to defy all the
difficulties of the ground and all the inclemencies of the weather.
They would not, of course, have been a national army, linked to the
homeland by a thousand ties, if they had felt no desire for the
conclusion of a long war, a war demanding ever fresh sacrifices, and
if a calmer feeling had not taken the place of the enthusiasm of the
first months.  But it was just such a feeling that was necessary for
the accomplishment of such gigantic achievements in the West and in
the East.  What was wanted was not enthusiasm, but the living heroic
sense of duty on the German soldier.  Moreover, there exists in our
army a cool contempt for danger, such as elsewhere has only been
exhibited in picked professional armies, and yet ours has remained a
national army in the best sense of the word.

Clausewitz declares[5]:

"If we look at a wild warlike race, then we find a warlike spirit in
individuals much more common than in a civilised people; for in the
former almost every warrior possesses it, whilst in the civilised,
whole masses are only carried away by it from necessity, never by
inclination."

None the less, the inculcated sense of duty, the conscious will of
the whole people, when, as in the case of this War, it is a question
of safeguarding our most treasured possessions, and when the purpose
of the War is clearly manifest, has brought forth even loftier
achievements than mere warlike impulse, or, as in the case of the
Japanese, the sense of the blessedness of extinction.

In fact, we cannot sufficiently express our joyful recognition of the
high sense of duty and the power of resistance which our troops have
everywhere displayed in the face of overwhelmingly superior forces,
while at the same time we ought not to refuse our respect even for
our enemies, above all the French.  For they too were prepared and
resolved every one to die for his country.  On both sides was
revealed a nervous force, a capacity of resistance to inclement
conditions, with which no one had credited the civilised humanity of
the present day, more especially in the face of the increased
effectiveness of present-day weapons.  Before the War it was looked
upon as an understood thing that the efficiency of the older classes
of recruits was only limited.  Field-Marshal Count Schlieffen, who
taught us how to manipulate a massed army, and who, because he was
convinced of the great importance of numbers in war, was unwilling to
abandon the employment of the older drafts in the front line: none
the less declared, "Landwehr and Landsturm, territorial army and
territorial army reserves, can only to a very limited extent be
reckoned as part of the nation in arms."

If the World War has not confirmed this prediction, it is due to the
fact that such imponderable things defy any attempt to assess them.
Hence it is not to be wondered at that we encountered surprises in
these matters.  The improved hygiene and treatment of wounds of the
present day have contributed greatly to maintaining the efficiency of
the national armies.  In the case of Germany, above all, medical art
and science have achieved wonders.  They have succeeded in preserving
our army from those epidemics which have been the scourge of previous
armies and in restoring to it almost 90 per cent. of its wounded.
Only by their aid has it been possible to maintain continuously the
full strength of our troops and to carry on the war for so long.

The Russians have afforded us less cause for surprise than the rest
of our enemies.  True they brought up their masses earlier than had
been anticipated, but these, as was to be expected, proved themselves
very unwieldy, so that the superior mobility of our troops helped to
restore the balance.  Their unshaken resistance to the Russian mass
attacks did the rest.

With the introduction of universal military service in the year 1874,
the Russian army had acquired quite a new character.  In place of the
old soldiers with their long term of service, whose regiment had been
their home, there were now levies of troops subject first to a
six-year and later to a four-year and three-year term of service.
Many conditions which had formerly contributed to the efficiency of
the Russian troops were now abolished.  The subordination of the
peasants disappeared more and more, but it could not be replaced by
that conscious and enlightened sense of duty which is possible only
in an old civilised nation.  If the Russian army was found wanting in
Eastern Asia, this was due above all to the fact that it proved
incapable of adapting itself to the conditions of modern warfare.  It
afforded no opportunity for the training of the individual soldier to
self-reliance in war.  In his report to the Tsar upon the Manchurian
campaign Kuropatkin said:

"Undoubtedly, universal military service has, from a moral
standpoint, improved the mass of our troops, but in view of the low
standard of civilisation of the individual men, it is difficult to
infuse them with the notion of discipline.  Belief in God, devotion
to the Tsar, love for the Fatherland, still contribute to keep the
soldiers firm in the ranks, and to make them brave and obedient
fighters, but these feelings have in recent times been severely
shaken and forcibly wrested from the heart of the Russian."

The unpopularity of the war against Japan was, in the opinion of the
General, chiefly to blame for the often very defective resistance of
the troops in battle.  He writes:

"To-day more than ever, the moral strength of an army is governed by
public feeling.  Therefore, in order to be successful, a war must be
popular, the whole people must strive for success in harmony with the
Government.  But the aims which we pursued in the Far East were
understood neither by the Russian soldiers nor their officers."

In 1914, on the other hand, this condition was completely satisfied:
at the beginning, the war was extremely popular in Russia.  Moreover,
the Russian army had learnt much from the Manchurian campaign, both
as regards organisation and also as regards strategy and tactics.  It
had been systematically organised and prepared for the war against
Germany and Austria-Hungary.  Nevertheless, the defects in the
political organism of the Empire and in the national character could
not be remedied in a decade.  Kuropatkin expressed his conviction
that, in a war against Germany and Austria-Hungary, Russia would
certainly in the first instance be defeated.  Only with time did he
hope for a turn of the tide, thanks to the inexhaustibleness of
Russia's reserves of men.  His respect for the superiority of German
training led Kuropatkin, when he was Minister of War, to declare that
a war of conquest against Germany would be a calamity for the Russian
Empire.  The World War, no less than the March revolution of the
present year, though in a different sense, has revealed that Russia
was not really ripe for universal military service.  Had it been
otherwise, we and our allies might have been unable to defend
ourselves against envelopment by overwhelmingly superior numbers.

More than once did the Austro-Hungarian army threaten to succumb
before the far superior numbers of the Russian forces.  At the
beginning, the Austro-Hungarian army proved not strong enough to
defeat the main body of the Russian forces in Galicia.  Certainly the
troops showed no lack of heroic self-sacrifice, and the engagements
of August and September, 1914, furnished signal instances of the
splendid courage of the army of the Dual Monarchy, which was in fact
filled with glowing enthusiasm for this contest of giants.
Naturally, in view of the mixture of races comprised in the Dual
Monarchy, it could not be kindled through and through with a common
ardour to the same degree as the German army.  Such a unity of
sentiment as existed with us was impossible in its case.  The
Austro-Hungarian military leaders had to cope with difficulties
arising from the mixture of races comprised in their forces,
difficulties which did not exist in the case of ourselves or our
opponents.  Moreover, these brave troops had to suffer for the sins
and omissions of which the Parliaments of the Monarchy had been
guilty during past decades.  The army was too weak in numbers, and
equipped with far too insufficient an artillery, to enable it to
resist successfully the Russian hordes and at the same time to cope
with the Serbians.  The weakness of their regimental cadres in time
of peace had rendered impossible the training for actual
battle-tactics.  This fact was bound to result in a certain lack of
unity and cohesion in the larger units.

If the Russians, in spite of their great numerical superiority, did
not succeed in smashing the brave Austro-Hungarian army in the autumn
of 1914 at Lemberg and on the San, that speaks for the small ability
and defective mobility of the Russian army, which, it is true, made
progress in these respects in the course of the War.  As a result of
the reckless expenditure of the Russian troops, whose leaders were
always spendthrift of the lives of their men, their army remained,
notwithstanding their heavy losses and the defective training of the
reserves, a redoubtable adversary.

In spite of all the technical improvements of the present day, the
moral element proved to be, now as ever, the decisive factor in war.
In the case of the Central Powers, that lofty moral strength, arising
from the sense of righteous self-defence in a war which had been
thrust upon them, showed its superiority to the zeal which a
commercial and predatory war could kindle in our enemies.  The
following words of Droysen[6] completely apply to the German nation:

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



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

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

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

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

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

[6] _Preussische Politik_, V.




III

THE INFLUENCE OF TECHNICAL SCIENCE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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




IV

LEADERSHIP

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We shall have to consider how, in future, to preserve for war the
character of the war of movement, all the more so since, in the World
War, it has only been by the war of movement that we have reaped
decisive results.  It will, of course, be accompanied by many of the
features of entrenched warfare, and, in consequence of the necessity
of bringing up and setting in operation the numerous present-day
methods of attack, it will be slow.  An approximate illustration of
this is furnished by the course of the operations in East Prussia and
Lithuania and of the Germano-Austro-Hungarian offensive in Galicia
and Poland in the summer of 1915, as well as by the campaigns in
Serbia, Transylvania, and Roumania; and the rapid progress of
operations in these instances furnishes convincing proof that the
resolute will of a leader, combined with the valour of his troops, is
capable of overcoming those difficulties which the bringing up of
their numerous weapons of war entails upon a modern army.  For this
kind of warfare we ourselves had received just the appropriate
training, and we were in fact superior to all the other armies.  Such
a form of warfare is decisive, and will always remain decisive; the
years which we have spent in our trenches do not alter this fact in
any way.

That spirit of the offensive which is peculiar to our army we must
study to preserve by every means in our power.  It has achieved
striking results in this War, and has recently once again proved its
effectiveness in the summer of 1917 in Eastern Galicia and in the
defensive battles in North France and Flanders.  But we must not lose
sight of the fact that from time to time, at the beginning, a
systematic adherence to offensive tactics, even where the situation
rendered it more advisable to make full use of the strength which the
effectiveness of present-day weapons gives to defensive tactics, cost
us a heavy sacrifice.  In any case the War has proved that the
assertion often made in time of peace that the spade digs the grave
of the offensive is not correct.  This assertion may be compared with
the saying which was current in the Prussian army, to its very great
detriment, before the battle of Jena: "Skirmishing encourages the
scoundrel in human nature."  From the military point of view Goethe
is right when he says: "For it is just where ideas are lacking that a
phrase is most welcome."  Catch-words are always prejudicial in their
effect, and most of all so when it is a question of the blood of our
sons and brothers.  It was not only King Frederick who expressed his
sense of the importance of selecting strong positions.  Napoleon, the
representative of the most uncompromising offensive, told the
officers of his engineer-corps in 1806 that in the coming campaign
against Prussia he intended that a very great quantity of earth
should be shovelled up.[9]  And Moltke writes[10]:

"The offensive is by no means merely tactical.  A clever military
leader will succeed in many cases in choosing defensive positions of
such an offensive nature from a strategic point of view that the
opponent is compelled to attack us in them....  A strategical
offensive consorts very well with a tactical defence."

It was, it is true, as early as 1865 that the Chief of the General
Staff of the Prussian army wrote those words: "But he belonged to the
number of those great and rare men in whose case a profound study of
theory has almost been a substitute for practice."[11]  Thus
Königgrätz, Metz, and Sedan did not cause him to alter his views
materially.  Again, in 1874, he says:

"I am convinced that, as a result of the improvement of firearms, the
tactical defensive has acquired a great advantage (from a local
tactical point of view) over the offensive.  It is true that in the
campaign of 1870 we always took the offensive and that we attacked
and captured the strongest positions of the enemy, but with what a
sacrifice?  It seems to me to be more advantageous only to proceed to
an offensive after having repelled several attacks by the enemy."[12]

The Field-Marshal certainly did not overlook the fact that such an
opportunity of this nature as presented itself to Napoleon at
Austerlitz occurs but seldom and cannot be created at will.  It is
sufficient, then, to draw attention to the fact that any leader who
has recourse to defence, wherever this is in conformity with the
situation, is showing himself in full agreement with the greatest
military leaders of the past.

War is, to quote the well-known phrase of Clausewitz, "the
continuation of politics by other means."  It has already been
mentioned that it has resulted from the political and economic
situation that we and our allies have had to wage battle on the two
fronts under difficulties which had hitherto not been suspected and
which have continually increased.  It was this that gave rise to the
peculiar form of the present War, as well as to the necessity,
notwithstanding the power of the blows which we dealt, of continually
husbanding the forces at our disposal.  Hence the judgment pronounced
by Clausewitz on the conduct of King Frederick in the year 1760 is
fully applicable to our Supreme Command.  He said[13]: "The whole
campaign exhibits a husbanding of forces, accompanied by the greatest
activity and skill."  Numerous other comparisons with the Seven
Years' War present themselves, only that as the theatre of war, in
place of the Eastern and Central districts of Germany on which
Frederick the Great fought, we must substitute Europe.  Just as at
that time Prussian regiments fought at Rossbach and a month later at
Leuthen, so now our army corps and divisions have fought first in the
West, then in the East, then in the Balkans, and _vice versa_.  Just
as Frederick the Great at that time held the inner line, so did we
also in the World War.  This has proved to be to our advantage (just
as it proved to Frederick's advantage), even though the difficulties
of the situation as a whole still remained.  If, as we hope, policy
succeeds in future in preventing the recurrence of such a menacing
situation, or at any rate in producing the effect that we shall have
greater freedom for violent and decisive blows in one direction, then
the War will take a different shape and will be more like former wars.

Our business, therefore, is to maintain the fundamental ideas of war
as they lived in the German army up to the year 1914, to soak them in
the experiences of the present War, and to make the fullest technical
use of these experiences, but to do all this without giving an
entirely new direction to our thinking on strategy and tactics.  We
can only strive continually after perfection; we cannot attain it.
Even King Frederick had to resign himself to this fact.  In the
Testament of 1768 he writes:

"The military art demands continual study, if one wishes to attain a
thorough mastery of it.  I am far from flattering myself that I have
exhausted it.  I am even of opinion that a human lifetime is not long
enough in order to pursue it to the very end, because with every
fresh campaign I have acquired new views as the result of new
experiences, and because there still remain a multitude of things
concerning which fate has not permitted me to collect any experience."

Even less than at the time of Frederick the Great, when conditions
remained in all essential respects unchanged, and such alterations as
occurred in the weapons of war were insignificant as compared with
to-day, can we now tell whether the next campaign will not cause us
to form new views.  Napoleon once declared that one must alter one's
tactics every ten years, if one wished to maintain one's superiority.
We proceeded in accordance with this principle prior to the War.  Our
armaments were at the highest level of efficiency; our service
regulations were entirely up to date and adapted to the most recent
experiences of war, in particular the experience of the
Russo-Japanese war.  This in itself is an indication that the World
War need not effect revolutionary changes; in fact it is impossible
that it should do so.  On the whole, our training was quite on the
right lines.  The wide scope which our regulations always allowed
made it easy for the troops to adapt themselves to the needs
resulting from the effect of modern weapons.  Thus they adapted
themselves to the entrenched warfare to which they were unaccustomed
and which they disliked.  The principles for attacking enemy
positions and for the defence of one's own have, as we have already
mentioned, been changed several times, in accordance with the conduct
of the enemy and the nature and strength of his weapons.  In matters
of detail new experiences have been gleaned over and over again, but
the fundamental tendency of our regulations has not really been
affected.  It has been proved they were right in everywhere giving
precedence to mind over form, for that adaptability which had been
inculcated in our whole army down to the man in the ranks proved
decisive.  It resulted in the fact that the spirit and the nature of
this War were recognised in the army long before they were generally
recognised at home.

It is true that during the long peace the army had become very inert
in many respects.  Innovations were only tardily adopted.  Many tried
to extract from the regulations a compromise between what was old and
past and what was new and enduring.  In this they overlooked the fact
that even enduring things will constantly call for improvements.
This applies also to the experiences afforded by this World War.
They cannot continue indefinitely to be authoritative any more than
the experiences of earlier wars, if only because the development of
technical science both on the land and in the air can never come to a
standstill.  Above all, the individual must impress upon himself that
a certain partiality must always attach to his own particular
experiences.  Our troops have exhibited a striking faculty of
adapting themselves to circumstances, but the same cannot be said of
all their officers; and this prolonged trench warfare in itself has a
dangerous tendency to engender a one-sided view.  It has also to be
remembered that the conditions in the East and the West respectively
were entirely different.

A certain inertia, however, in the case of such a great organism as
is presented by the army, although it may prove a hindrance on
occasion, has also its good side.  A certain amount of conservatism
is indispensable; it helps to secure a continuous progress, and not a
progress by leaps and bounds.  We have already shown that the fact
that a thing is old is by no means necessarily a reason for
discarding it; we have been able to point to many phenomena similar
to those of the time of Moltke, Napoleon, nay, even of Frederick the
Great.  Of course these similarities are only evident when we
consider the thing as a whole.  The tactics of 1870-71 had become out
of date long before the World War, and occasional reversions to them,
such as occurred with us here and there before the War, will now have
to be renounced once and for all.  Within certain limits, however,
the phenomena of war repeat themselves not infrequently, although the
form is always altered, and they have to be duly adapted to present
conditions.



[1] Vol. vii. _Feldzug_, 1812.

[2] _Studien zur Kriegsgeschichte und Taktik_.  V.  _Der 18 August,
1870_, p. 407.

[3] Stegemann, _loc. cit._, i., 211.

[4] _On War_, vol. iii., p. 4.  [_Vom Kriege. Skizzen zum VII. B._, 2
Kap.]

[5] Pierron, _Méthodes de guerre_, 1.

[6] _On War_, vol. iii., p. 155.  [_Vom Kriege.  Skizzen zum VII.
B._, 2 Kap.]

[7] _On War_, vol. iii., p. 72.  [_Vom Kriege.  Skizzen zum VII. B._,
26 Kap.]

[8] _Betrachtungen über die Taktik_, etc.

[9] Foucart.  _Jéna_.

[10] _Taktisch-Strategische Aufsätze_.  Bemerkungen über den Einfluss
der verbesserten Feuerwaffen.

[11] Dragomirow.  _Skizzen des Oesterreichisch-Preussischen Krieges
im Jahre 1866_.

[12] _Taktische Aufgaben_.

[13] Vol. x., _Strategische Beleuchtung mehrerer Feldzüge_.
Friedrich der Grosse.




V

THE ARMY IN THE FUTURE

Although the effect of the World War has by no means been to
revolutionise military art completely, none the less it is incumbent
upon us to draw from it a number of lessons both as regards the
further development of our army and also as regards our mode of
training.

From the point of view of organisation it must first of all be
realised that no organisation can possibly cover all the possible
contingencies of war, and that, therefore, it is of the first
importance to make it as elastic and adaptable as possible.  In the
course of the World War the attempt to preserve the original
formations, and thereby to secure the continuous influence of the
leaders over their troops, was found to be impossible of realisation,
or at any rate it had to be restricted to the divisions.  The latter
became strategic units and were correspondingly developed; the army
corps became in many cases an army-group, and the number of its
divisions underwent constant fluctuation.  The question of the
expediency of the triple division of the higher units was relegated
forthwith to the background in face of the imperative demands of the
War.  This is by no means a novel experience.  Napoleon never
hesitated to alter the number of divisions in his army corps.  The
latter were made up in accordance with the demands of the situation,
the personality of the leader, and the number of subordinate units
which were available.

The War has demonstrated the necessity of equipping the infantry with
a larger number of machine-guns than was provided for by us in time
of peace.  In defensive warfare, as we have already pointed out, the
tendency has been more and more to husband the reserves of men, and
to wage the battle in the foremost line by mechanical means,
machine-guns and mines, backed up by the artillery.  The field
artillery, whose duty it was to work in the closest co-operation with
the infantry, required not so much an absolute increase in the number
of batteries as an increase in the number of batteries of howitzers.
On the other hand, in the case of the garrison artillery, the
engineers, the bomb-throwing companies, the railway, telegraph, and
motor troops, and the flying corps, a considerable increase has
proved to be necessary.  It will not be necessary to increase the
numbers of the cavalry in the future; but the cavalry will doubtless
have to be kept at its present strength, which will perhaps make it
possible in a future war to manage with a smaller force of reserve
cavalry, so that the men and horses will be available for other
purposes.  In face of modern firearms and mass-armies the cavalry is
very much restricted in its opportunities for reconnaissance, and to
a large extent it has been superseded by the aeroplane.  None the
less, this long entrenched war, and the fact that in the course of it
this valuable weapon has only been employed in the same way as the
infantry, must not lead us to form false conclusions.  At the
beginning of the War, in the West and, later on, in the East
(especially in Lithuania), our cavalry have performed very valuable
services, and the same may be said in regard to the campaign against
Roumania.  As soon as the War was carried into the open country, the
cavalry at once asserted its importance.  It becomes indispensable
both as a supplement to aircraft in reconnaissance at close quarters
and also as a mobile defensive weapon.  Moreover, it is essential to
have a swiftly-moving arm which can be rapidly transferred from one
place to another.  At the same time, in the training of the cavalry
in time of peace, due attention must be paid to trench-warfare, and
far more attention must be devoted to fighting on foot than has
hitherto been the case.

In our great manœuvres the conditions of this World War can only
partially be represented.  The manœuvres will, of course, be more
adapted to the present-day mode of fighting, and since, on our
drilling-grounds, trench-digging is only rarely feasible, we shall
practise it in the manœuvres, provided that it is in accordance
with the situation which has been arranged, and provided that it can
be effected without injury to the fields.  In other respects,
however, it will not be possible to organise our great manœuvres
in the future in conformity with the conditions which prevailed in
the great majority of cases in this War.  We cannot in our peace
manœuvres furnish a representation of trench-warfare on a large
scale.  All that we can do is to practise attacks on a field-position
oftener than has hitherto been the case.  Their number and extent,
however, must always be comparatively limited by a consideration of
the expense which they involve.  Hence all that we can do is to give
the companies and battalions a thorough training in trench-warfare
and make them familiar with all the circumstances which it engenders.
In the case of our frontier forces, the requisite training could be
combined to a large extent with the construction of new
fortifications.  This would incidentally effect an economy of
civilian labour.  Also portions of the troops stationed in the
interior of the country might be dispatched temporarily to the
frontier for this purpose.  It will always be our task to see that we
preserve correct views in respect to trench-warfare, but that at the
same time we do not give it the predominant place in our training.
The predominant place--it cannot be insisted on too often--belongs to
the war of movement, though in a somewhat different form from that
with which we were familiar before the War.

In this connection there should be a greater insistence, in our peace
training, upon the dragging out of operations which is inevitable in
war, provided, that is to say, that this can be done without
prejudice to the freshness of the troops and the initiative of their
leaders.  As early as 1861 Moltke wrote[1]:

"If manœuvres are not to engender false notions, full
consideration must be given to the ground and the dimensions.  The
whole course of the battle will thereby become different and slower."

These words, which were written long before 1866, have received very
little attention.  In an order of King William issued after the
Battle of Gravelotte-St. Privat he says:

"I must remind you that the attack on an enemy position must first be
prepared for by the artillery and by well-directed rifle-fire....  I
certainly accord the fullest recognition to the brave assault of the
infantry, for whom hitherto no task has seemed too difficult, but I
also expect that the intelligence of the officers shall enable them
in future to reap the same successes at a much less considerable
sacrifice, by dint of a skilful exploitation of the ground, a more
thorough preparation for the attack, and the employment of suitable
formations."

Similarly, at the beginning of the present War, many of the
engagements might have developed more tranquilly and systematically
and at less cost of life, and at the same time have reaped more
decisive results.  None the less, we may rejoice that the following
words of Clausewitz are completely applicable to our infantry: "Happy
the army in which an untimely boldness frequently manifests itself;
it is an exuberant growth which shows a rich soil."[2]  We must
endeavour to maintain, by every means in our power, this splendid
vigour in attack of our infantry.  The infantry must not expect the
artillery to do everything; just as little, of course, must it attack
prematurely in such a manner as to render it impossible for the
artillery to exercise its full effectiveness at the right moment.
Hence it will be an important duty of the commanding officers in
future peace manœuvres to see that their troops preserve clear
notions concerning the seriousness, the scope, and the duration of
present-day warfare, and at the same time to emphasise continually
the effectiveness of modern arms.  Co-operation between the infantry
and the artillery must in any event be ensured.  A good means of
achieving this would be to effect a mutual interchange between the
officers in command of the infantry and the artillery respectively.

Generally speaking, we must devote more attention to tactics on a
large scale, and less to strategy.  Above all, even in sham fights
and cavalry manœuvres, the important thing is not to spin out
great strategic theories, but to develop the power of forming a just
conception of purely tactical situations on a simple plan, and to
practise the technique of command.  Operations on a large scale must
be left for the tours of the General Staff--especially the Great
General Staff.  Certainly it is desirable that just conceptions
regarding operations on a large scale should also be instilled into
the generality of the officers' corps; but in this respect the study
of the World War and lectures upon it will afford a rich field of
instruction and inspiration.  The greatest possible simplicity, such
as war demands, must also prevail in regard to the exercises
practised on the drilling-ground.

Our traditional drill must in any event remain the permanent
imperishable foundation of our training.

"Its importance consists in the fact that it inspires the soldier
with a sense of the urgent necessity to obey his officer.  The habit
of obedience which is developed by means of military service helps to
produce this effect."[3]

The War has confirmed in the fullest degree the value of drill.  We
have to thank our permanent military training schools for the
discipline which has made it possible to solve the most difficult
problems of attack and defence with an array of masses of troops.  It
is the result of these schools that the German soldier has not
recoiled before any task.  The best proof of this is the
half-reluctant recognition which it has extracted from the enemy.

In regard to the autumn battle of 1915, in Champagne, General
Cherfils writes[4]:

"The French soldier detaches himself from his officer far too
readily.  Each one goes where he wills.  Thus it came about that our
infantry lost in a moment territory which they had just won with
great difficulty, and, moreover, they left on it a half of their
man-power.  The German is a true soldier.  Discipline has become a
part of his flesh and blood.  That is his greatest source of
strength."

The _France Militaire_ writes[5] with respect to the Anglo-French
offensive on the Somme in July, 1916:

"The great homogeneity of the German army is evident from the fact
that it was possible for the German command to withdraw some twenty
different battalions from at least ten divisions, in order that they
might oppose these improvised formations to the Anglo-French
offensive.  And these troops were drawn from all portions of the
front.  This was, to be sure, only an emergency measure.  The Germans
certainly would not have had recourse to it if it had not been
necessary, and we must try not to bring ourselves into a similar
situation, and we must always bear in mind that the maintenance of
the formations is an element of victory.  At the same time, it is a
sign of great homogeneity and of a splendid co-operation between the
various commands that it was possible for the Germans to undertake
such a manœuvre on such an extensive scale and in the space of a
few hours.

"The opponents of a long term of active military service and of
thorough preparation in time of peace should consider the following
facts: A militia army with an abridged term of training may perform
heroic deeds, the regiments may exhibit a high standard of cohesion,
but such an army will lose all its strength if circumstances compel
it to break up its principal units, and to blend these together.  It
is only where uniformity of training has penetrated into the lowest
ranks, and where a thorough military training has been established,
that such venturesome undertakings are feasible."

In the case of the numerous new formations which the enormous
increase of our army in the course of the War has rendered necessary,
we have always endeavoured, as far as was possible, to compose these
new bodies of troops in such a way, and to furnish them with such a
thorough training, as would give them the solidity of the old troops.
In August, 1914, in the case of the newly-formed Reserve-Corps, we
had to endeavour to dispense with these advantages.  In their case,
the period of training was not really adequate to transform them into
thoroughly efficient battle-troops.  The experience of the officers,
very few of whom were on the active list at the time, with all their
good will, was not really adequate, and the same was true in many
cases in respect of their physical fitness.  This applies equally to
a large proportion of the men in the ranks, that is to say, of the
young war-volunteers.  They had excellent qualities, and were filled
with the purest patriotic enthusiasm; but this could not compensate
for the lack of soldierly discipline and physical hardening which can
be acquired only in the course of a thorough military training.
These new troops could not be equal to coping with the difficult
conditions which prevailed at Ypres.  They have only gradually, in
the course of the War, and as a result of the subsequent improvement
of their officers' corps, been brought up to the level of the old
troops.  The Prussian Landwehr of 1813 furnished an illustration of
exactly the same thing.  They broke down, at the beginning of the
campaign, at Goldberg, Kulm, and in the pursuit after the battle of
Katzbach; it was not until Wartenburg and Möckern, and after they had
been very much diminished in the process, that they had become
thoroughly efficient troops.

Scharnhorst, their creator, had not originally contemplated the
employment of the Landwehr as a troop of the first line.  It was only
necessity which led to the enrolment of the Landwehr among the
field-troops; just as in August, 1914, necessity compelled the German
command to throw in on the right wing of the Western army troops
which were not yet fully trained.

The zeal of reformers, after the defeats of the year 1806,
undoubtedly contributed to make the difference between the old and
the new in the Prussian army appear much greater than it actually
was.  Scharnhorst and his disciples frequently overshot the mark
deliberately, in order to attain their purpose, for they were under
the necessity of overcoming a host of prejudices on the part of those
who adhered to the externals of the Frederician tradition, and not to
its inner significance.  This, however, does not in any way alter the
fact that it was really the resuscitated old Prussian army, though
filled with an entirely new spirit, that we have to thank for the
liberation of 1813.  It was the same much-abused officers' corps, the
"Junkers" of the year 1806, who led to victory an army the best parts
of which were composed of veteran soldiers.  The great achievements
of the army of 1813 in the face of the enemy were due to the
excellence of its _cadres_, and the same was the case a century
later.  The achievements of the War of Liberation, like our ability
to hold out in the World War, were only rendered possible by the fact
that a sufficient number of experienced officers and veteran soldiers
were available, for even the men of the home and reserve regiments of
1813 had for the most part already served in the old army.

The value of the so-called "Krümper" system introduced by Scharnhorst
has been hitherto very much exaggerated.  It can by no means be
described as a successful attempt to manage with a short term of
service on a large scale.  The principle of it was the creation of a
war reserve which should always be available, by means of a constant
furloughing of a number of men to the districts from which the
regiments had been drawn and the insertion of recruits in their
place.  Nevertheless, in the brief period between 1808 and 1813
(during which, moreover, the mobilisation of half the standing army
for the auxiliary corps which had to be supplied for Napoleon's
campaign of 1812 against Russia was a disturbing factor) this system
proved incapable of furnishing anything like such a strong war
reserve as that which in 1813 made it possible, in addition to
filling up the ranks of the regular troops, to create fifty-two
reserve battalions, which were assembled in regiments during the
truce.  By far the greater part of the imposing reserve force which
was available in the provinces consisted of soldiers who had received
their training in the old army and had been subjected to its rigid
discipline.

The words of Camille Rousset[6] in reference to Napoleon's new
formations of the year 1813 are more or less true of every improvised
army:

"If the Battle of the Katzbach had been fought by stout men and
thoroughly trained soldiers, it is possible that Macdonald would not
have been defeated, or at any rate would have suffered only such a
reverse as could have been made good again; fought as it was with
young men and with soldiers whose training dated from yesterday, it
became the beginning of a catastrophe.  No clearer demonstration has
ever been furnished of the power of physical and moral energy, of
fortitude of body and spirit in the face of inclemency of the
weather, hunger and thirst, and all the sufferings of war, the power,
in fact, of that stoicism which is no sudden phenomenon, but the
gradual and unconscious result of military training, which is in fact
nothing else than a heightened sense of honour and duty."

The American Civil War of the sixties of last century would not have
lasted four years if the Union had had at its disposal an efficient
fighting army with which to overcome the Southern States.  Both the
militia and the volunteer levies broke down.  Only after a long time
did they become really efficient fighting troops.

Lord Kitchener's creation of a strong English army during the World
War was unquestionably an immense achievement.  He built up twelve
divisions out of the six regular divisions existing before the War,
and twenty-eight divisions out of the fourteen very imperfectly
organised territorial divisions.  This doubling of the hitherto
existing English army was then supplemented by the thirty so-called
Kitchener divisions.  All these new formations, before they were put
into the line, went through a long period of training, first at home
and afterwards behind the front in France.  The long entrenched
warfare afforded the possibility for this.  They were only by degrees
sent into the fighting lines.  Not until the beginning of 1916 were
the English in a position to take over longer sections of the front,
which had hitherto been held by the French.  They were subsequently
reinforced in France, and at the beginning of 1917 their lines were
extended still further towards the south.  Thus, though the great
English army of the World War is a new creation, it is anything but a
loose and hasty improvisation.  The experience which could be derived
from military history in respect to improvised armies was, on the
contrary, thoroughly taken into consideration by Kitchener in
accomplishing his task.  The advocates of a shorter term of service
than existed among us before the War cannot in any case instance the
Kitchener divisions as a justification of their views, any more than
they can do so in the case of our own new formations during the War
or those of earlier times.  Moreover, it has to be considered that
the Kitchener divisions were trained exclusively for the simple tasks
of trench-warfare.  The English army is by no means fit for a war of
movement.  Captured English officers have admitted this fact.  Their
higher officers lack the necessary knowledge, which can be acquired
only by long training and by regarding it as a life-task.  Napoleon
said, not without reason, "It is possible to capture a strong
position by means of a young army, but not to conduct a campaign to a
victorious conclusion."

In regard to the abridgment and simplification of our Infantry
Regulations there may be various opinions.  The War certainly
furnishes a great deal of instruction on this subject.  Military
drill in itself is, however, prejudicial to war-efficiency, and
consequently a hindrance to true preparation for war, only when it is
carried to excess, that is to say, when the insistence upon formal
drill is pushed beyond the limits of the Regulations.  Provided that
this is avoided, military drill--the War has proved it beyond any
doubt--is entirely beneficial as regards training for active service.
In regard to the latter, in a short time and by equally simple means,
the same degree of subordination cannot be enforced under all
conditions; for though undoubtedly much of what the infantry soldier
has to learn in respect to the use of the rifle in warfare may be
drilled into him, yet the Regulation of 1906 (No. 158) expressly
indicates as the aim of the individual training of the rifleman that
"the soldier should be trained to become an intellectually
self-reliant and technically conscientious rifleman," for on one
point there can be no doubt, namely, that training with a view to
actual fighting must always take the first place, great as is the
value of rigorous drilling in achieving this end.  This training
engenders in the troops the habit of doing their best, and hence of
doing it even in the face of danger.  It helps them, too, to acquire
that "proud and distinguished appearance" which was insisted upon by
Prince Frederick Charles.

Here as everywhere, the real question is how much importance is to be
conceded to formal drill.  The important thing to be kept in mind is
that drill is to be considered, not as an end in itself, but only as
a means to an end.  It is inevitable that it should happen from time
to time that a few individual pedants, who, moreover, have not kept
the prospect of war steadily in view, should go astray.  It will be
the duty of the superior officers in charge of these matters to see
that these deviations do not lead us too far away from the proper
goal of all training.  It will be their duty to see that it does not
happen that--to use a phrase of Scharnhorst--"the mechanical heads
triumph," and they must constantly bear in mind that success in war
falls only to him who is capable of emancipating himself from the
bonds of custom when the occasion demands.

We must not carry too far our cult of tradition.  Blind adherence to
tradition in the place of a living continuous development is an evil.
A great and proud tradition is a wonderfully invigorating thing in an
army, and nothing can take the place of it, but it ought not to be
nurtured for its own sake, but for the sake of the firmness and
stability which it gives to the army as a whole.

The years of exhaustion which followed the great war-period at the
beginning of the nineteenth century were not calculated to inspire a
warlike spirit in the Prussian army and to shape its training with a
view to the needs of war.  Hence a pronounced tendency in the
direction of review tactics very soon manifested itself.  This
phenomenon has frequently occurred after wars of long duration, and
it is easily understandable.  But it is all the more important that
we should be on our guard against its reappearance.  The ambition of
Frederick the Great to see that "admirable discipline" of his troops,
which had become relaxed in the course of the Seven Years' War, once
more restored allowed him to overlook many an extravagance which the
resurgent drill-devil provoked in the army.  His own thoughts, as his
later writings prove, were always concerned with the needs of actual
war and the most glorious side of the soldierly profession, but his
generals became more and more immersed in the minor arts of the
drilling-ground.  The uneventful course of the Bavarian War of
Succession was not calculated to diminish the pedantry of peace drill.

The tendency in the direction of review tactics, which again became
predominant in the first decades following the War of Liberation, had
begun to manifest itself in a peculiar way during the war, even in
the Prussian army, and first of all in the Guards.  It was our
brotherhood in arms with the Russians which resulted in the marked
predominance of parade drill (as though it were not a means to an
end, but in itself the end of training), and with it a tendency to
triviality.  The manœuvres in the environments of Berlin were,
under Frederick William III., merely spectacles; they degenerated for
the most part into mere military sports.  The Tsar Alexander and his
brothers all took the same unspeakable delight in military pedantry,
and it could not but happen that, in view of the intimate ties of
blood and friendship which existed between the Courts of Petrograd
and Berlin, similar tendencies should have been transmitted to
Prussia.  Thus that training which had been originally derived from
Prussian models, though endowed with greater rigour after the manner
of the Tsar Paul, which, moreover, was organised entirely with a view
to outward show in a manner quite opposed to the old Prussian models,
was reintroduced into Prussia in this distorted form.

Under Scharnhorst's general rules for manœuvres on a large scale,
pre-arrangement of the course the manœuvres were to take was
declared to be inadmissible; but, after the great war-period, parade
manœuvres, the critical moments of which were exactly planned out
beforehand, were once again revived.  The brief and concise
Regulations of 1812 seemed to those in charge of military affairs too
simple for peace-time.  General Krauseneck, a distinguished
collaborator in the drawing-up of the Regulations and afterwards
Chief of the General Staff, discovered, when he took over the command
of a division in 1821, that quite a number of supplementary orders
had been added, and he found himself compelled to protest against
them.  He writes[7]:

"We had never doubted that time and the experience of war might
entail alterations, and that simplifications might be effected, but
we never dreamed that the Regulations--in which we had aimed at the
greatest possible brevity and clearness, as one of the most essential
requirements--would, after a war which had been conducted to a
glorious conclusion, be criticised as insufficiently detailed and
precise.  It is not only useless, it is harmful, to aim at excessive
hair-splitting preciseness in the case of every order, and to strive
after uniformity with a scrupulousness that borders on pedantry.
Such a uniformity can never be attained, and, even if it could be
attained, it would not repay the trouble and energy expended upon it."

General Krauseneck was of opinion that uniformity in matters of
detail was rather injurious than otherwise, and he insisted that the
greatest possible freedom as regards the means for attaining the
desired end had the result of infusing spirit and energy into the men.

Fortunately it was not to happen that the "mechanical heads" should
triumph once again in the Prussian army, as Scharnhorst had feared.
The conditions had been completely altered since 1806.  The
introduction of universal service entailed on the officer educational
duties which had not fallen to him in the old army.  Also, although
the army did not have an opportunity of gaining new experience of war
on a large scale, the dangerous tendencies with which it had become
infected were none the less successfully overcome.  In this
connection valuable service was rendered by the Prince of Prussia.
His clear understanding in regard to military matters enabled him to
form a very just estimate of the limits within which a rational
training by means of drill ought to be confined, and this at a time
when a one-sided training, with a view principally to the
requirements of parades, seemed still to be completely in the
ascendent.  In notes which he made in the year 1840,[8] the Prince
laid down principles which still hold good at the present day.  He
wrote: "The sole purpose of the drilling-ground is, in my opinion, to
achieve order.  If the spirit of order exists in a troop, it is
possible to do anything with it; without order nothing is possible."
The parade step, and the preparatory practice for it, the Prince held
to be indispensable, "if," he says, "we are to have troops and not a
mere assembled mob."  Thus the Prince assigned to the parade the
importance which properly belongs to it, and to which it can justly
lay claim even at the present day.  A very careful training by means
of drill is an indispensable preparation.  Therefore, in the same
notes, the Prince says further in regard to drill: "Uniformity is
indispensable.  Why should one be permitted to do his task well, and
another to do it badly? ... Either we intend to have a trained troop
or else a mob of undisciplined men.  That is a point which must be
settled."  Further he says that the objectionable term "Trillen" is
constantly applied to what is really no more than soldierly
discipline, as opposed to rustic clownishness.  The future Emperor
expressed very finely his firm and unshakable confidence in the
efficiency of the army for purposes of war when he said that
suspicions ought not to be entertained concerning the spirit of the
army merely because, in addition to its actual achievements, it
presented a handsome outward appearance.  "Any one who has had to do
with the army for twenty years will have only one opinion on this
head, namely, that the spirit and the will of the army are above all
praise, and that such an _esprit de corps_ exists in it as never
before."

It was not prejudice in favour of what was old and accustomed, nor
mere routine, that caused the German army to preserve its "handsome
outward appearance," but the recognition, based upon history, that
any negligence in this respect constitutes a serious danger.
Archduke Albert of Austria, in 1869, drew attention to the existence
of such a danger in "the efforts of a subversive Press to turn to
ridicule the discipline and strict regulations which are
indispensable in every army."[9]  In the fifties of last century the
stimulating influence of Prince Frederick Charles made itself felt in
the Prussian army.  It was particularly effective, because here was
the case of a royal prince who made it his aim to plan the training
and education of the soldier directly with a view to actual warfare.
The Prince succeeded in overcoming a far too narrow-minded preference
for parade-drill and the affectations of the drilling-ground,
although he insisted that a certain stiffness was in harmony both
with our traditions and with our national character, and was also a
good means of instilling discipline.

"It is the warlike spirit that decides," wrote the Prince in
1858,[10]" not the tactical form.  The form must be elastic; it must
not exercise compulsion in a certain direction.  Every epoch has had
its special tactical forms, and these have been connected with the
warlike spirit of the age and with the nature of its equipment for
war....  The more developed the warlike spirit in the individual
soldier, the greater will be the energy of the whole mass, and the
less will be the influence of the tactical form."

The importance which Prince Frederick Charles attached to the mutual
relations between the leader and the troops is evident from the
following words which he wrote in the year 1860.  He says[11]:

"The general is the loved and respected chief, not a scolding,
punishing task-master.  When he addresses his troops (which he should
do only seldom) all hearts beat faster.  He must know how to touch
those chords which produce a fine ring.  He is pleasant and friendly
with all his subordinates, and the more so according as they are the
farther removed from him in rank.  He has always a friendly word and
a sympathetic greeting for the man in the ranks.  Although they
seldom see him at his work, and then only accidentally and when he
rides past them, they none the less delight in his near presence and
they are proud of him.  He has rendered both the men and their
officers susceptible to the inspiration which his presence, his
glance, his words, and his bearing must infuse into them on the day
of battle, and which must result in a trebling of their efforts.  If
then, in the fulness of their enthusiasm, they ask him eagerly,
'Sire, where is it your will that we should die?' then and only then
has he succeeded in making the right impression upon them in time of
peace."

That this impression was actually produced in our army in the sense
which the Prince intended has been proved by the World War, for never
was the question which he desired uttered with a more sublime
devotion than it has been by our troops during this War.

There has been much talk in Germany of the so-called trench-spirit,
and of the fine comradeship between officers and men.  But it has
been overlooked that this comradeship, based upon the loyal
solicitude of the officers for their men, existed also before the
War.  It was merely expressed in a different way.  The officer must
make a difference in his behaviour towards the younger troops, who
have to be trained and disciplined, and his behaviour towards the
fully-trained and, in particular, the older men, whom he has to lead
against the enemy.  Moreover, it is only natural that, in the face of
death, a greater equality should prevail between superiors and
subordinates.  But the officer stands just as much above his
subordinates in the trenches as elsewhere.  The lack of officers
after the heavy losses in August, 1914, made itself very seriously
felt, and even men who had been brave hitherto failed occasionally
when the enemy fire suddenly deprived them of their leaders.  Good
relations between officers and men will and must remain after the
War, but they must not be such as to be prejudicial to the authority
of the superior officer.  Our young men, who have outgrown paternal
discipline in the course of the War and have rendered splendid
services before their time, will stand in very special need of the
rigorous training afforded by the army.

The officer must be "of that ruling race who exert a controlling
influence, even if momentarily they are not within sight or
hearing."[12]  Field-Marshal Count Schwerin once declared that Fear
and Love were the two instruments by which the soldier must be
governed, and then added--and with manifest justice as applied to his
time--that unfortunately Fear had to perform the lion's share.  The
case has, however, unquestionably been reversed as regards our age.
Prince Frederick Charles, even in his day, would have nothing to do
with the "scolding and punishing taskmaster."[13]  Without dependence
on the personality of the superior officer (though, of course, this
presupposes a wholesome rigour in the latter), without enthusiasm for
the work in hand, the results of military training will be merely
superficial.  The World War has demonstrated how very important it is
that we should preserve all that military discipline which has proved
its efficacy, but that at the same time we should enlist the services
of the best men for this task.

"It is unjust to depreciate the reserves from the industrial
districts and the big towns as compared with those from the rural
districts.  The latter may perhaps be endowed with greater physical
fitness and endurance, but as regards those aptitudes in regard to
present-day methods of warfare and the use of modern technical
weapons for the purposes of war, which must be possessed even by the
man in the ranks, the urban population, in view of their quicker
intelligence, will undoubtedly possess certain advantages."[14]

If, before the War, certain prejudices on this head existed in the
officers' corps, they have perished as the result of the War, equally
with many others.  It is our duty to concede full recognition to the
human personality in all our troops.  Present-day social conditions,
no less than the achievements of our national army as a whole in the
course of the War, demand this.  A national army cannot be other than
a democratic organisation.  The task of the officers is in high
degree a social task--social, that is to say, in an aristocratic
sense; for what has rendered our army so efficient has been precisely
the thoroughly aristocratic organisation of the officers' corps upon
a democratic basis.

Prince Bülow says very justly in reference to Scharnhorst's army
reforms:

"Through the material of the national army, an institution of a
democratic nature, runs a thread of the modern aristocracy.  The
happy thought of making entry into the corps of officers contingent
upon election by the corps of officers made it possible in the
structure of the national army to take account of the structure of
the nation.  Probably nothing in the past, as in the present, has to
such a degree assured the superiority of our army as the fact that
the leading position, which is the natural due of those who rank
highest in intellect and education, has been retained by them in the
army....  The World War has shown that devotion and contempt of death
are the common heritage of every German soldier.  But it has also
been a song of praise of mutual confidence between officers and men,
such as the world has never seen....  The spirit of German
militarism, as Prussia first developed it and Germany adopted it, is
every whit as monarchical as it is aristocratic and democratic, and
it would cease to be German and the mighty expression of German
imperial military power and military efficiency if it were to change.
If our enemies, to whom with God's help our militarism will bring
defeat, abuse it, we know that we must preserve it, for to us it
means victory and the future of Germany."[15]

The War has brought about an almost complete fusion of the officers'
corps of the active army with the officers on the reserve list.  We
had fully recognised the importance of the tasks which, in case of
war, must fall to the officers of the Reserves and the Landwehr, and
for more than a decade prior to the War we had devoted special care
to their training.  This precaution has reached a rich reward.
During the War, wherever the conditions made it possible, this
training has been continued--especially in the case of the younger
officers who had recently obtained their captaincies--by means of
numerous courses of instruction organised behind the front.  Though
very satisfactory results were achieved by this means, it ought none
the less to be borne in mind that only in connection with the
officers' corps of the active army and under its guidance were the
officers of the reserve able to render such valuable services to the
Fatherland.  The long duration of the War brought it about that the
memory of their civilian calling became more and more effaced.  They
were completely absorbed into the organic entity of the troop; they
became professional soldiers equally with the men; they acquired a
training which they had lacked in peace-time, when their adoption of
the profession of arms had been only an incidental experience.  To
the professional knowledge, which they gained in an increasing
degree, was added all that intelligence and energy which characterise
the German whenever he occupies a responsible position in a civilian
calling.  Thus the officers of the reserve soon exhibited no longer
any difference from the officers of the active army.  They may have
exhibited less familiarity with routine duties, but this was equally
the case with the younger officers of the standing army, who lacked
for this purpose the necessary experience of active service,
brilliant as was the example which they furnished to their troops
during battle.

Moreover our regiments were commanded by staff officers who were
considerably younger both in years and in experience of military
service than was customary before the War in the case of these
positions.  We shall not see such young commanders in time of peace.
This will not be prejudicial to the army, for in time of peace the
qualities demanded from the commander of a regiment, in respect to
the training of the officers' corps and the inner consolidation of
the troop, are somewhat different from those required in time of war.
In time of peace we need for this position fully-matured and
self-assured personalities.  On the other hand, it is just the
officers occupying the middle status of regimental and battalion
commanders who have been subjected to a severe strain in this War, a
fact which should warn us not to allow officers to occupy these
positions in peace-time after they have reached a certain age.

It proved advantageous and necessary not only to promote many
excellent noncommissioned officers to officers' rank, but also
frequently to extend the sphere for the replenishment of the
officers' corps, in the case both of the regular army and the
reserves, very considerably beyond the limits customary in time of
peace.  In doing this many prejudices were set aside, often with very
beneficial results.  At the same time it ought to be borne in mind
that, in peace-time, no matter how insistently direct preparation for
war is put in the first rank of importance, none the less all kinds
of claims are made upon the officers which disappear in time of war,
and therefore the choice of persons suitable for the position of
officer is necessarily confined within narrower limits.  We need not
take into account here the question of pecuniary circumstances, but
education, intellectual bias, and ambition do not suffice to render
every individual fit for the position of officer.

The spirit of German militarism, which has enabled us to stand the
test of the World War, and which we must preserve in the future,
because with it our world-position stands or falls,--which, moreover
is: "every whit as monarchical as it is aristocratic and
democratic,"--rests ultimately on the building up of an officers'
corps which shall be thoroughly efficient for purposes of war.  For
this purpose a sound aristocratic tradition is of the highest value.
This is in no way connected with so-called Junkerdom and
caste-feeling.  Even in the case of the army of the young North
American Republic, Washington demanded that only "gentlemen" should
be given a commission.  Aristocratic tradition, in the wider sense,
is of the utmost service in the training of personalities.  No
profession stands in greater need of the latter than that of the
officer.  The choice of the most suitable man can, however, only be
satisfactorily accomplished by means of the gradual replenishment of
the officers' corps, and not by the arbitrary placing of all on the
same level.

The warlike efficiency of the ruling class in Japan was essentially
the result of the tradition which lived in the old Samurai families.
Even the army of the first French Empire, in spite of the democratic
notions which linked it with the time of the Republic, none the less
did not lose all its connection with the army of the _ancien régime_.
Napoleon made it his immediate endeavour to develop a new chivalry in
his army, and to fill up the ranks of his officers from the families
of the old nobility.  In spite of the intense revolutionary and
national feeling, republican tendencies alone could not have endowed
the armies of the Revolution with the necessary stanchness.  It was
only the development of a military hierarchy and its consolidation in
course of time, combined with the leadership of Napoleon and the
great aims which he held up before his army, that raised the latter
to supreme war-efficiency.

In any case the masses, as such, can never rule.  If mob-rule is
consequently an absurdity in a State, how much more so is it in an
army.  The army which Russia now proclaims to be a national army is
by no means efficient for purposes of war.  The words of Treitschke
are significant here:

"A Republic is confronted with still more serious difficulties in the
matter of a standing army.  All history has shown that such an army,
whose commissioned ranks are imbued with definite class feelings,
will always be monarchically inclined."[16]

Only under the absolute command of a war lord can an army achieve a
really vigorous development.  It cannot be emphasised too often what
an immense debt the Prussian army--and therewith all Germany--owes to
the Prussian Kings.

Napoleon declared, when he was at St. Helena: "Armies are monarchical
through and through."[17]  This had been clearly exhibited in his own
army, above all in the Imperial Guard, and in the spirit which
animated the latter.  The achievements of the French army under their
great Emperor, and, equally so, those of the last world war, rested
on a surer foundation than the _Spectateur Militaire_, with its empty
phrase-mongering, was willing to admit, when it declared at the
beginning of the sixties of last century[18]:

"The French soldier sees in all his officers, from the sub-lieutenant
to the marshal, merely his equals; he has the clear and certain
conviction that he is inferior to them only in military rank.
Neither training nor education nor birth produces an essential
difference between them.  The sense of equality is so strong that the
sense of the ego completely disappears under the absolute domination
of the law of discipline.  To what enemy could such soldiers be
inferior?  What human might could successfully resist such soldiers
as these, soldiers who stand on an equality with their officers and
who are all heroes?"

This is an instance of that thoroughly French notion of the supreme
blessing of equality.  How little it really signifies, and how far it
is from being equivalent to freedom, has been demonstrated by the
World War.  Instead of a truly liberal State, we see in the French
Republic a country enslaved by a plutocracy and governed by the
arbitrary will of its English ally.  Moreover, every army should
esteem itself fortunate in possessing its own particular notion of
discipline.  We have in any case had sufficient experience of the
blessings which our own discipline brings in its train to the welfare
of the German Fatherland, and we intend to hold fast to it in the
future.

Since the reforms of Scharnhorst, it has been a principle with us
that the officer is raised above the men in the ranks both by
education and training.  Since the standard of education of the mass
of the people has been considerably raised during the last hundred
years, it is only logical that higher demands should be made from the
officers in this respect than was the case at the time of the War of
Liberation.  Only there must be general recognition of the fact that
this education does not by any means consist in the piling up of a
mass of learning.  The school education of our youth must be such as
to furnish them with a sound foundation on which to build up later
their knowledge of life.  Experience has taught us that the dispute
about the superior merit of a humanistic education as a preparation
for life is really of very little importance.  The former pupils of
the various educational establishments do not exhibit any marked
differences from one another as the result of their training, and
this for the reason that a man begins really to learn only after he
has left school.  Not till then does he perceive things in their true
relations; provided only that his school has furnished him with a
basis upon which to build up his further knowledge.  The War, which
has reduced so many things to their true value, has also revealed
clearly the difference between genuine education and mere acquisition
of knowledge.  Every one among us who has talked with our soldiers,
whether at home or in the field, has found reason to rejoice in their
sound judgment.  Often one could not help feeling that their simple
understanding had preserved a higher degree of impartiality and
freshness than is commonly to be found in the so-called educated
classes.  This was, of course, by no means a new experience for any
officer who had known how to find the way to the hearts of his men.
The modest learning of those who have been educated in elementary
schools and have not had a complete secondary education is frequently
more thorough as far as it goes, provided that they are endowed with
intelligence and the desire for knowledge.  They are contented,
according to their lights, and frequently give evidence of an
astonishingly profound cultivation of the qualities of the heart, and
this is in fact the true source of their courage and steadfastness in
time of trouble.  Those who have had the benefit of an academic
training have certainly not the smallest reason to look down upon
such men as these.

In the second volume of his _History of Germany during the Nineteenth
Century_, Treitschke says, concerning the period following the Wars
of Liberation:

"Because they avoided that soul-destroying education which provides a
smattering of everything, the classical schools succeeded in kindling
in their pupils an enduring delight in classical antiquity and the
desire for a liberal and humane culture.  Moreover, as yet, that
disease of modern universities, the examination-craze, was almost
entirely unknown.  Those old and famous homes of classical learning,
the Fürstenschulen of Saxony and the convent schools of Württemberg,
sent on their senior scholars to the university, as soon as it seemed
to their teachers that they were ripe for this, and the State made no
objections."[19]

Since the year 1882, when Treitschke wrote these words, many
improvements have been made in our higher education, and Treitschke
himself admits that the system of regular State examinations, which
has existed in Prussia since the time of Frederick William I, even if
it is more mechanical, is at the same time more equitable, and is, in
fact, a necessity in the case of a big State.  The meaning of this
foremost champion of Germanism is, however, obviously this, that a
liberal and humane education is not absolutely bound up with the
passing of the leaving examination.

We shall do well in the army if we endeavour, as hitherto, to see to
it that as large a number as possible of ensigns and cadets shall
pass their leaving examination before they enter the service; on the
other hand, in view of the pre-eminently practical nature of their
calling, we need not demand this unconditionally of the officers.
This should, at any rate, be left to time, especially as the higher
schools will have to endeavour to simplify their curriculum by
reducing the number of subjects.  A consideration of the increased
demands which will undoubtedly have to be made upon our young men in
respect to physical culture will in itself necessitate this.  This
applies to the modern schools and to the upper modern schools
(especially to the latter) just as much as to the classical schools.
The younger seats of learning, in their anxiety to raise themselves
to the educational level of the classical schools, have frequently
lost sight of the fact that it is they above all who should devote
their attention to training with a view to practical life and not
with a view to a high standard of scholarship.

These questions may appear to have little to do with the War, and it
would be narrow-minded to endeavour to make considerations which have
resulted from the War the basis of our educational system.  No one,
however, will dispute the fact that the World War has given us cause
to subject our national life to a thorough examination in all its
departments and that it must mark the beginning of all kinds of new
developments.  Moreover, the training of our youth is more or less
closely related to the development of our armed force.

In the case of the education of a future officer, the same demands
need not be made as in the case of a young man who intends to devote
himself to learned studies, or to the investigation of technical
problems.  It must, however, be such as not only to qualify him for
the training and leadership of his men, but, above all, it must give
him that self-assurance in dealing with any situation, which is
required of an educated man.  In regard to the further education of
the officer, intellectual development in all the departments which
directly or indirectly concern the soldierly profession is of great
importance in relation to his military duties, but first and foremost
in importance is the training of character, the cultivation of a
distinguished mode of thought.  In the time of Napoleon, it was said
that every one of his soldiers carried the field-marshal's baton in
his knapsack.  With us this is true, in a metaphorical and a better
sense, of every officer.  He can and must strive to attain that
"harmonious combination of abilities" which Clausewitz declared to be
the characteristic of military genius.  Thereby he will guard himself
against narrow-mindedness and the danger of that mechanical mode of
thought which the predominance of technical science at the present
day is apt to induce.

"Technical science and inward culture, or even human happiness, have
little connection with one another.  In the midst of vast technical
achievements, it is possible for humanity to sink back into complete
barbarism."

This opinion, which was expressed by Professor Werner Sombart,[20] in
spite of his high appreciation of the progress of technical science
in other respects, has, unfortunately, been to a large extent
confirmed by the World War.  The officer must possess a thorough
appreciation of technical science, but this must not mislead him into
neglecting the study of men.  Knowledge of men is the fundamental
condition of successful leadership.  Hence the study of
history--above all of military history--is of the highest value.  It
is an inexhaustible source of instruction, an unequalled source of
consolation in the midst of the monotony which is an inevitable
circumstance of service in time of peace, for it keeps the eyes fixed
at the same time on the grandeur and sublimity of the soldier's
calling, and it encourages that just appreciation of the moral
element in war which in the course of a long peace is apt to be lost
sight of.

Field-Marshal Count Schlieffen, in the latter years of his life,
expressed his regret that he had not been able earlier, before he
became Chief of the General Staff, to spare the time for the study of
military history which he could now devote to it.  "Despise mere
reason and abstract science," he said once, placing his hand upon a
book which lay before him, while he expressed his opinion of those
who imagine that they can do anything merely with the aid of their
own experience.  And at the Centenary celebrations at the Staff
College he uttered the following memorable words:

"Before everyone who wishes to become a commander-in-chief, there
lies a book entitled _The History of War_.  It is not always, I must
admit, very amusing.  It involves the toiling through a mass of by no
means exciting details.  But by their means we arrive at facts, often
soul-stirring facts, and at the root of it lies the perception of how
everything has happened, how it was bound to happen, and how it will
again happen."

The General Staff, which had been educated in the school of this man,
has done him no discredit.  His training has up to the present
triumphantly stood the test to which it has been subjected in this
War.  Not only have the officers of the General Staff shown
themselves capable of filling much higher positions than those for
which they were intended in respect of age and length of service; but
also for numerous appointments on the General Staff it has been
necessary to have recourse to officers who before the War were still
at the Staff College, or to those who, in the course of the War, had
proved their worth as adjutants attached to the higher staffs.  The
very substantial augmentations of the large troop-units during the
War necessitated this.  The fact that these officers have proved
themselves equal to their tasks is in itself a convincing argument on
behalf of that uniform mental training with a view to war which
prevailed in the army before the War, and which extended far beyond
the limits of the General Staff.  The heritage of Field-Marshal von
Moltke was well administered and added to in the hands of Schlieffen.
And Schlieffen's successor, Colonel-General von Moltke, not only
rendered great service by increasing our armed force; he also
rendered the further service that he always realised the importance
of training the officers of the General Staff with a view to war, and
that he steadily and clearsightedly pursued this end.

Not only at the Front and on the higher staffs have the officers of
all arms shown themselves equal to their tasks, but also behind the
Front, on the lines of communication, and on home service, where they
have filled positions of authority for which they had received no
real training.  Regular officers, half-pay officers, and officers of
the reserve have equally held their own; and the explanation of this
lies in the fact that all military efficiency is nothing less than
the exercise of sound human intelligence.

A consideration of these facts may well afford us satisfaction and be
accounted a proof that we have worked on the right lines in all these
departments, but it must not lead us into imagining that we have
reached the pinnacle of perfection.  Here also it will be necessary
later on to build upon the basis of the new experiences we have
gained.  We must not overlook the fact that the long duration of the
War, and, in part also, the stationary conditions which it
engendered, furnished all those who took part in it with abundant
opportunity for training and study and rendered it easier for them to
become familiar with the duties of their positions.  On the other
hand, the World War has revealed the variety of the tasks which may
devolve upon the officer in war, tasks for which, as far as is
possible, he must be prepared in time of peace.  Therefore a
deepening as well as an extending of his professional training is to
be aimed at.  A training at the Staff College will never be possible
for more than a limited number.  The War Schools, even if (as is
urgently to be desired) their course of training is extended over a
longer period and their programme of study somewhat enlarged in
scope, none the less cannot furnish more than a foundation for the
special knowledge which the officer must possess and which he must
afterwards acquire.  This after-training was before the War for the
most part left completely to the individual.  But not everyone is
capable of achieving it unaided, especially in the department of
military history, which can never be more than skimmed over in the
War Schools.

Therefore it seems desirable that an intermediate stage between the
War School and the Staff College should be established, in the form,
say, of nine-month courses, which it would be obligatory upon all the
senior lieutenants to attend.  The mere fact that, during the World
War, the regular course of training in the War Schools has had to be
replaced by an abbreviated course makes such an institution very
desirable, since it may prove impossible to arrange that all those
who have been promoted to officer's rank during the long War should
subsequently go through the training provided in the War Schools.
Those who had concluded their intermediate course with the greatest
distinction would be sent on to the Staff College, at which in their
case a two-years' course would suffice.  By this means, the Staff
College would be able to confer the benefit of its instruction upon a
number of picked officers larger than that customary hitherto by a
third as much again.  The Staff College will remain, as before, the
special nursing-ground for the General Staff, the higher adjutancy,
and the military teaching-staff.  The other officers, who, after the
completion of the above-mentioned nine-months' course, go back to the
Front, will in any case have gained the advantage of a more thorough
education, both as regards special training for their profession and
general culture.

In order to achieve this, it would be advisable that these
institutions should be established in university towns, so that the
services of the professors who would there be available might be
turned to account.  This world economic War has revealed the
necessity that officers should make themselves so far familiar with
political, constitutional, economic, and social questions as to
enable them to form an independent judgment about these subjects.
The character of the whole modern life of our State makes it
desirable that the officer should keep himself in touch with these
questions, though he need not for that reason become a politician.
Frederick the Great, even in his day, wrote: "I expect above all that
a general shall be an honest man and a good citizen of the State;
without these qualities, all his ability and all his skill in war
will be rather harmful than profitable."[21]  By this the King
implies that military science and political science are closely
related.  We must contrive to kindle in the officer, while he is
still young, an interest in this relation, so that he may be capable,
in the training of his men, of enlightening them from time to time
upon questions of civic and economic life.  Short, well-written
primers might be of great value here.

That "untiring application" which King Frederick demanded from his
officers and which has also always been demanded of us, must be
insisted on more than ever after the War.  Its intellectual side is
by no means the least important.  The training of the mind by
assiduous study is a necessity not only for the officers of the
General Staff, but also for those who wish to occupy with advantage
any high position in the army.  We have no use for officers with a
scholastic training, but we do need officers with well-trained minds.
Napoleon felt keenly the lack of such, and, even at St. Helena, he
placed the Austrian General Staff above his own.[22]  As long as
theory does not set itself--to use the words of Clausewitz--"in
opposition to intelligence," it can only be useful, for it is then no
longer theory in the vulgar sense.  Even the talent of the most
famous representatives of the military art--Frederick the Great,
Napoleon, and Moltke--had a theoretical foundation, but this
foundation consisted only in education of the mind, which had been
developed and enlarged as a result of their own experience of life
and of war.  In any case, the important thing can never be the
encouragement of purely theoretical knowledge in the army, but rather
the transforming of knowledge into practice.  Willisen[23] has said
justly: "It is always a long step from knowledge to ability to act,
but none the less it is a step from knowledge and not from ignorance."



[1] _Bemerkungen über den Einfluss der verbesserten Feuerwaffen_.

[2] _On War_, i., 187.  [_Vom Kriege, III. B._, 6 Kap.]

[3] Reisner v. Lichtenstern.  _Die Macht der Vorstellung im Kriege_.
Berlin, 1902.

[4] _Echo de Paris_, November 23, 1915.

[5] July 16, 1916.

[6] _La Grande Armée de 1813_.  Paris, 1871.

[7] Malachowski.  _Scharfe Taktik und Revuetaktik_.  Berlin, 1902.
E. S. Mittler und Sohn.

[8] _Militärische Schriften Kaiser Wilhelms des Grossen_.  I., No.
336ff.  Bemerkung zu einer Denkschrift Boyens.

[9] _Ueber Verantwortlichkeit im Kriege_.

[10] Wolfgang Foerster.  _Prinz Friedrich Karl von Preussen.
Denkwürdigkeiten aus seinem Leben_.  I., p. 170.  Stuttgart und
Leipzig, 1910.  Deutsche Verlagsanstalt.

[11] _Ibidem_, i., p. 219.

[12] Reisner v. Lichtenstern.  _Schiessausbildung und Feuer der
Infanterie im Gefecht_.  Berlin, 1895.  E. S. Mittler und Sohn.

[13] See p. 164.

[14] Freytag-Loringhoven.  _Die Grundbedingungen kriegerischen
Enfolges_.  1914.  E. S. Mittler und Sohn.  (The War has completely
justified this view.)

[15] _Imperial Germany_, pp. 154-6.  London, Cassell & Co., Ltd.
[_Deutsche Politik_, 1916, pp. 163-4.]

[16] Heinrich v. Treitschke, _Politics_, vol. ii., p. 299-300.
London, Constable & Co. Ltd.  New York, The Macmillan Company.
[_Politik_, II., p. 275.]

[17] Gourgaud.  _Ste. Hélène_, i.

[18] Quoted from Jähns, _Das französische Heer von der grossen
Revolution bis zur Gegenwart_.  Leipzig, 1873.

[19] Heinrich von Treitschke.  _Deutsche Geschichte im 19
Jahrhundert_.  Vol. ii., p. 10.

[20] _Die Deutsche Volkswirtschaft im 19 Jahrhundert_, 3d edn., p.
134.  Berlin, Georg Bondi.  1913.

[21] _General-Prinzipien vom Kriege.  Von denen Talents, welche ein
General haben muss_.  Taysen, Friedrich der Grosse.  Militärische
Schriften, p. 106.

[22] Gourgaud, Ste. Hélène, ii., p. 416.

[23] _Theorie des grossen Krieges_.




VI

STILL READY FOR WAR

The war-readiness of Germany had been very much increased by the
votings of the last great Army Bills, together with the carrying out
of the programme of naval construction.  And yet we have been obliged
to organise new formations on a very large scale, and to develop our
armaments industry to an extent which had never been anticipated.
The levy on capital of a thousand million marks, measured on the
scale of the costs of the War, now no longer seems to us the enormous
sacrifice which caused doubts as to whether it could be demanded of
the German people.  The War has, on the one hand, revealed to us the
full financial strength of Germany; but, on the other hand, it has
proved that additional expenditure on the army at the right time
would have been profitable.  We should then have saved in this War
not only milliards of marks, but in all probability we should have
had to offer up a far less considerable sacrifice of men.  In view of
the central position of the Fatherland, larger expenditure on the
land-army, in addition to the necessary expenditure on the fleet, was
absolutely essential.  The demands which in this connection were put
before the Reichstag were but a feeble minimum of what was really
desirable, as the World War has proved.

The fact that in peace time the high demands of the Army Estimates
encountered all kinds of objections, must certainly not be
overlooked, more especially in view of the fact that it is easy, in
the case of a war the vast extent and long duration of which could
not have been foreseen, to declare after the event that our armaments
were not sufficient.  The fact, however, still remains, and it is
important that we should not lose sight of it, for we have to learn
from it the lesson that in future we must disregard every objection,
and must see to it that the disproportion between the credits which
are asked for and what has to be done in case of war shall in any
case never again be so great as it was in the World War.  By means of
the last Army Bills, which called to the colours a number of men fit
for service whom it had not been possible to enlist hitherto, we had
already before the War taken steps to restore to compulsory military
service the character of universality which belonged to it under law,
but which, with the increase of the population, just as formerly in
Prussia prior to the army reforms of 1859, threatened more and more
to be abandoned.  We shall have to continue to pursue this road in
future, quite apart from the necessary increase of garrison artillery
and technical troops.  Moreover, when the number of those who have
fought in the Great War has dwindled, we shall have to aim at
subjecting at least to a cursory training the men of military age who
are at first rejected, but who in the course of the War have turned
out to be fit for service, so that, when war breaks out, they may
form a generous source of reserves.  Only so can we arrive at a real
national army, in which everyone has gone through the school of the
standing army.

In the case of those who have enlisted at the age fixed for military
service, it will not be possible to reduce the length of the
prescribed term of service without detriment to the strength of our
whole army of organisation as tested in the War.  Periods of leave
might, indeed, be granted during the second or third years of
service.  The chief task of all our associations of young men will be
to qualify for enlistment in the army larger numbers of those liable
to service than has been the case hitherto.  In addition to the
training which they afford our youth both from a physical and an
intellectual point of view, these associations will, precisely in
view of the nature of present-day warfare, which demands in a high
degree sportsmanlike qualities, manual skill, and technical
knowledge, form an excellent preparatory school for the army.  They
cannot, however, furnish a substitute for actual military training.

It may be asked, What is the use of all this?  Will not the general
exhaustion of Europe after the world conflagration of a certainty put
the danger of a new war, to begin with, in the background, and does
not this terrible slaughter of nations point inevitably to the
necessity of disarmament to pave the way to permanent peace?  The
reply to that is that nobody can undertake to guarantee a long period
of peace, and that a lasting peace is guaranteed only by strong
armaments.  Our own armament, although it may have been defective in
some respects, has none the less secured peace for us for forty
years, that is to say, for such a length of time as has hardly ever
before been experienced in the world's history, in the case of a
great country.  Moreover, world-power is inconceivable without
striving for expression of power in the world and consequently for
sea-power.  But this involves the constant existence of a large
number of potential causes of friction.  Hence arises the necessity
for adequate armaments on land and sea.

A sound policy of power is by no means equivalent to a one-sided
glorification of war.  It is true that the effects of war are in many
respects very beneficial.  War banishes pretence and reveals the
truth.  It produces the most sublime manifestations of masculine
personality, and the greatest devotion and self-sacrifice for the
sake of the community.  If ever an age has corroborated the words of
Treitschke that "the features of history are virile,"[1] it is the
present, and we, Germans have been described by a Swede as "the most
powerful military nation in the world's history."[2]  But this does
not in any way alter the fact that the effects of war are terrible;
nay, that, judged by these, war seems to civilised men absolutely
senseless, in view of the sacrifice and destruction which it entails,
and of the misery which it brings in its train.  And, none the less,
however convinced we may be that war is a sin against humanity, that
it is something worthy of detestation, this conviction brings us no
nearer to eternal peace.  War has its basis in human nature, and as
long as human nature remains unaltered, war will continue to exist,
as it has existed already for thousands of years.  The often quoted
saying of Moltke that wars are inhuman, but eternal peace is a dream,
and not even a beautiful dream, will continue to be true.  The World
War has also fully confirmed the justice of the following words of
Heinrich von Treitschke: "The polished man of the world and the
savage have both the brute in them.  Nothing is truer than the
biblical doctrine of original sin, which is not to be uprooted by
civilisation, to whatever point you may bring it."[3]  A long peace,
such as that which preceded the World War, had frequently caused us
to overlook the fact that it was not the fine phrases about
international bliss and brotherhood uttered on every occasion at
public meetings which preserved us from war, but the might of our
sword which was only fully revealed on the outbreak of war.  And it
will only be by this might that we shall be able to safeguard our
peace in the future.

We misconstrue reality, if we imagine that it is possible to rid the
world of war by means of mutual agreements.  Such agreements will, in
the future, as in the past, be concluded from time to time between
States.  The further development of international courts of
arbitration, and the elimination of many causes of dispute by their
agency, lies within the realm of possibility, but any such agreements
will after all only be treaties which will not on every occasion be
capable of holding in check the forces seething within the States.
Therefore the idea of a universal league for the preservation of
peace remains a Utopia, and would be felt as an intolerable tutelage
by any great and proud-spirited nation.  Here, too, let us heed
Treitschke's warning when he says: "The idea of one universal empire
is odious.  The ideal of a State co-extensive with humanity is no
ideal at all.  In a single State the whole range of culture could
never be fully spanned."[4]  The fact that it was precisely the
President of the United States of North America who advocated such a
brotherhood of nations must in any case arouse our wonderment.
America's behaviour in the War has shown that pacifism, as
represented in America, is only business pacifism, and so at the
bottom nothing else than crass materialism.  This truth is not
altered by the fact that it is wrapped in a hazy garment of idealism
and so seeks to hide its real significance from unsuspecting minds.
Nor is the truth altered by the appeal to democratic tendencies, for
precisely this War is showing that those who at present hold power in
the great democracies have risked in irresponsible fashion the future
of the peoples entrusted to their guidance.  In any event, as regards
us Germans, the World War should disencumber us once and for all of
any vague cosmopolitan sentimentality.  If our enemies, both our
secret and our avowed enemies, make professions of this nature, that
is for us sufficient evidence of the hypocrisy which underlies them.

No one can foresee future developments, least of all while such a war
as the present is still in progress.  Hence it is not impossible that
pacifist tendencies, based upon motives of utility, may gain currency
to a certain degree, but they will not conduce to the betterment of
humanity.  We find it impossible to believe in the realisation of
genuine pacifist ideals, such as are cherished by well-meaning
sentimentalists.  Only a spiritual transformation of the human race
could bring this about, and how far we are from any such
transformation has been revealed by the War.  Therefore, in regard to
this question, we should pay less heed to the phrases of present-day
prophets than to the views of old and truly wise men.  We must not
put might before right, but equally little shall we and can we
dispense with might.  In the future, as in the past, the German
people will have to seek firm cohesion in its glorious army and in
its belaurelled young fleet.



[1] Heinrich v. Treitschke.  _Politics_, vol. i., pp. 20-21.  London,
Constable & Co., Ltd.; New York, The Macmillan Company.  [_Politik_,
i., p. 30.]

[2] Fredrik Böök.  _Deutschland und Polen_, p. 14.  Munich, 1917.

[3] Heinrich von Treitschke.  _Politics_, vol. i., p. xl.  London,
Constable & Co., Ltd.; New York, The Macmillan Company.  [_Politik_,
i., p. 9.]

[4] Heinrich von Treitschke.  _Politics_, vol. i., p. 19.  London,
Constable & Co., Ltd.; New York, The Macmillan Company.  [_Politik_,
i., p. 29.]









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