Germany’s Choice: Prudence or Audacity—Her Dangerous Compromise—The French Offensive School—One View of French Strategy—Plan XVII—Its Complete Failure—The Despatch of the Sixth Division—The Morrow of Mons—Fears for the Channel Ports—The Lloyd George of Agadir—The British Base Shifted to St. Nazaire—Some expedients—The Retreat—A Press Communiqué—The Eve of the Marne—The Russian Pressure—Lord Kitchener’s Journey to Paris—Correspondence with Sir John French—A Day on the Aisne—The Sea Flank Project—Lord Kitchener’s Wise Restraint.
Prudence and audacity may be alternated but not mixed. Having gone to war it is vain to shrink from facing the hazards inseparable from it. At the outset of the war Germany had a choice between a prudent and an audacious strategy. She could either have fallen, as she did, upon France with her main strength and held off Russia meanwhile, or have fallen upon Russia with ample forces and stood on the defensive against France. If she had taken the second course she would have said to France and to Europe: “This is an Eastern quarrel. Let us endeavour to limit the area of the conflict. We are going to rescue our ally Austria from Russia. We have no dispute with France. We have no intention of invading French territory. Unless you attack us, we shall not touch you: if you attack us, we shall have to defend ourselves. As for Belgium, it is sacred to us.” The German Government would then have appealed to England to help to localise the struggle, and a well-meaning effort would most probably have been made with that object. France would therefore have had to choose between deserting her ally and invading Germany in cold blood, alone. Neither Belgium nor England would have entered the war. By the winter the Russian armies would have been torn to pieces in the East, and France brought to a standstill before barbed wire and entrenchments on German soil in the West. France would therefore have appeared the aggressor, who had made a treaty with Russia in order to get back her lost provinces, and then in pursuance of this treaty had flagrantly invaded Germany and had been arrested by the defenders of the Fatherland. On the other hand, the moment Russia was beaten, overwhelming German forces could be brought to bear on France. And if in this second stage the Germans had chosen to violate the neutrality of Belgium, Britain, if she had intervened at all, would have intervened divided and too late. All these tremendous political-strategic considerations were present in the minds of British Ministers, and Mr. Lloyd George in particular would never believe, until the mass invasion of Belgium was an actual fact, that the Germans would be so unwise as to ignore them. Ludendorff, however, tells us that the German General Staff rejected such a plan for one decisive reason, namely, that it involved a long war. This answer seems insufficient.
Germany had long and deliberately committed herself to the alternative plan of the invasion of France through Belgium with the intention of destroying the French armies in a few weeks. This was a decision of extreme hazard and audacity; flying in the face of world opinion, openly assuming the rôle of the aggressor, committing a hideous wrong against Belgium, incurring probably Belgian resistance and possibly, as they must apprehend, British intervention. But having embarked on such an audacious adventure, the Germans failed to concentrate wholly upon it. In order to secure victory in a few weeks in France before England could develop her strength, they must be prepared to endure serious injuries in the East. The German force opposing Russia was therefore rightly cut down to the absolute minimum. But to carry their plan through in its integrity more territory should have been yielded to the Russian invaders, and in no circumstances should any reinforcements have been transferred from the West to the Eastern front until the decision in the West had been reached.
I had throughout the greatest misgivings of an impulsive offensive by the French based, not on calm calculations of numbers, distances and times, but upon ‘the psychology of the French nation,’ ‘the best traditions of the French Army,’ ‘the natural élan of the poilu.’ I knew, of course, that the offensive school held the dominance in France. One could see its reflection in the language of our military men, though these were strongly anchored to modern realities by unpleasant recollections of the Boer War. Without knowing with any certainty or exactness the French plan, I dreaded, whenever I reflected on the problem, an impetuous onset followed by a shattering shock.
As between the two nations, France and Germany, it would be natural for the stronger to be left to take the offensive and invade the weaker. Four or five marches from the frontier the task of the invader becomes very difficult and may be made more difficult still. The defenders have superior communications from flank to flank and from front to rear; they fall back on carefully-chosen, well-prepared positions and on ample magazines of munitions and supplies. The invader finds himself in a hostile country, surrounded by spies, with bridges and roads, especially lateral roads, broken and disorganised, and important junctions defended by fortresses still in the hands of the enemy. He is thus forced to deliver the first great battle on ground selected and prepared by his opponent. It is surely at this moment, and after this first shock has been sustained under the best conditions, that the opportunity for the offensive energy of the weaker Power presents itself.
If the Germans invaded France it seemed to me in those days that the French would be wise to act as follows:—
They should entrench themselves conveniently along or near their frontier, constructing a vast system of field fortifications, open and concealed, sham and real, according to every device known at that time; and in these positions they should await the first shock of the Germans. I believed that the Germans did not appreciate the tremendous power of modern weapons, particularly the rifle. I based this on what I had seen of their methods in their manœuvres of 1906 and 1909 and on what I had learned about rifle fire in the South African War. The Germans were the challengers; they were the stronger, but not, in my opinion, strong enough for the continuous storming and reduction of well-fortified positions held by French regular armies or by British troops. I did not, of course, contemplate that the French would dig one uniform line along the whole length of their frontier. They would naturally treat the problem selectively, here resisting with their utmost strength, there allowing the enemy to penetrate and bulge into unpromising country or into some well-considered tactical area only to be brought up by lines fifteen to twenty miles in rear. They would not hesitate to sell the Germans piece by piece a certain amount of ground for disproportionate losses. The universal tactical object to be pursued in this first phase should be to force the Germans to expose themselves in the open to the rifle and artillery fire of well-trained Frenchmen.
It would be reasonable to hope that a process of this kind, continued for three or four days along the whole front, would have resulted in far heavier losses to the Germans than to the French, and that a larger proportion of the German than of the French armies would have been deployed and extended. One hoped in this way to see the French take toll of the manhood of the German nation at the outset of the war, as the British Army did on a small scale at Mons and Le Cateau. This would in no way have excluded tactical action by means of counter-attacks wherever opportunities presented themselves. Meanwhile at least two-fifths of the French armies should have been held back in a great mass of manœuvre, north-east of Paris. With this mass of manœuvre I hoped the British Army would have been associated. This general disposition should not have been compromised by any effort to proceed to the relief of Belgium, except with cavalry and small detachments to encourage the Belgians and to gain time. I was, of course, firmly persuaded, in common with the British General Staff, that the main German encircling movement would take place through Belgium and would comprise considerable forces west of the Belgian Meuse. I hoped that if this movement eventuated and prolonged itself in great strength, the French would find an opportunity of using the greater part of their armies of manœuvre against it after the Germans had been well punished along the whole front. At any rate, that is the sort of way in which I thought then, before the event, and think still, the French Command might best have safeguarded the vital interests of France.
Very different, however, were the ideas of General Joffre. The famous ‘Plan XVII’ consisted in a general offensive in an easterly and north-easterly direction by four French armies, with the last remaining army in reserve behind their centre. It was based upon an ardent faith that the French right would penetrate deeply into Alsace and Lorraine and an obstinate disbelief that the French left would be turned by a German movement west of the Meuse through Belgium. Both these calculations were to be completely falsified by the first events of the war. From the very earliest days it was clear that the views which the British General Staff had consistently held, since 1911, of a great German turning movement through Belgium, probably on both sides of the Belgian Meuse, were correct. Why should the Germans with their eyes open throw first Belgium and then the British Empire into the scales against them unless for an operation of supreme magnitude? Besides, there were the evidences of their long preparations—camps, railways and railway sidings—which the British Staff under Sir John French and Sir Henry Wilson had so minutely studied. Lastly, reported with much accuracy from day to day, there came the enormous troop movements on the German right, towards and into Belgium on both sides of the Meuse. Before the end of the first week in August General Lanrezac, the Commander of the left French Army (the Fifth), was raising loud cries of warning and alarm about the menace to his left, and indeed his rear, if he carried out the rôle assigned to him and attacked as ordered in a north-easterly direction. By the end of the second week the presence of the accumulating masses of the German right could no longer be denied by the French High Command, and certain measures, tardy and inadequate, were taken to cope with it. Nevertheless, after the raid of a corps and a cavalry division into Alsace on the 13th August, General Joffre began his offensive into Lorraine with the two armies of the French right, the centre armies conforming a few days later; and up till the evening of the 18th General Lanrezac and the left French army were still under orders to advance north-east. Three days later this same army was defending itself in full battle from an attack from the north and north-west. It had been compelled to make a complete left wheel. The main shock began on the 20th, when the two armies of the French right battered themselves in vain against the strongly-prepared German defences. By the 21st the French centre armies were definitely stopped, and by noon on the 23rd General Lanrezac and the French army of the left were outflanked and beaten. Meanwhile our small army, thrust hurriedly forward towards Mons to shield the French left, found itself in presence of not less than four army corps with numerous cavalry constituting the swinging fist and sabre of the German encircling advance. By the evening of the 23rd ‘Plan XVII’ had failed in every single element. The French armies of the right were thrown back into France and were entirely occupied in defending themselves. Their armies of the centre and the left were in full retreat towards Paris and the south, and the British Army, isolated and beset by overwhelming numbers, was in the direst peril of complete destruction. So much for ‘Plan XVII.’
The utmost secrecy had naturally been maintained by the French about their general plan. The existence of their nation was at stake. Neither the British Cabinet nor what was left of the War Office were in a position to understand what was passing. I do not know how far Lord Kitchener was specially informed. I think it very improbable that he shared the secrets of the French Headquarters to the extent of being able to measure what was happening on the front as a whole. If he shared them, he did not show it by any remark which escaped him. He knew, of course, all there was to be known about the situation of our own army, and a good deal about the forces contiguous to it.
As the shock drew near, Prince Louis and I felt it our duty at the Admiralty to free Lord Kitchener’s hands in every respect and to bear to the full our burden of responsibility. I therefore wrote to him on the 22nd August as follows:
The Admiralty are confident of their ability to secure this country against invasion or any serious raid. If you wish to send the 6th Division abroad at once, we should not raise any objection from the naval standpoint. The situation, now that both the Navy and the Territorials are mobilised and organised, is entirely different from those which have been discussed in the Invasion Committee, of the C.I.D.[43]; and if you want to send the last Regular Division, the First Sea Lord and I are quite ready to agree, and so far as possible to accept responsibility.
He replied:
‘It is very doubtful if the division now crossing[44] will get up in time to take part in the battle now impending on the Sambre. As soon as I can I will let you know about the 6th Division going over. If I send it we have practically nothing left.’
Late on the evening of August 23 I had a talk with Lord Kitchener. We knew the main battle had been joined and that our men had been fighting all day; but he had received no news. He was darkly hopeful. The map was produced. The dense massing of German divisions west of the Belgian Meuse and curling round the left flank of the Anglo-French line was visible as a broad effect. So was the pivot of Namur, in front of which this whole vast turning movement seemed precariously to be hinged. He had in his mind a great French counterstroke—a thrust at the shoulder, as it were, of the long, straining, encircling arm which should lop it off or cripple it fatally. He said of the Germans, ‘They are running a grave risk. No one can set limits to what a well-disciplined army can do; but if the French were able to cut in here,’ he made a vigorous arrow N.W. from Namur, ‘the Germans might easily have a Sedan of their own on a larger scale.’ I had a pleasing vision of the first phase of Austerlitz, with the Austrians stretching and spreading their left far out to the villages of Tellnitz and Sokolnitz, while Napoleon remained crouched for his spring at the Pratzen plateau. But had France a Napoleon? One had marched through Charleroi ninety-nine years before. Was there another? And were the Germans like the Austrians and Russians of Austerlitz? However, we went anxiously but hopefully to our slumbers.
At 7 o’clock the next morning I was sitting up in bed in Admiralty House working at my boxes, when the door of my bedroom opened and Lord Kitchener appeared. These were the days before he took to uniform, and my recollection is that he had a bowler hat on his head, which he took off with a hand which also held a slip of paper. He paused in the doorway and I knew in a flash and before ever he spoke that the event had gone wrong. Though his manner was quite calm, his face was different. I had the subconscious feeling that it was distorted and discoloured as if it had been punched with a fist. His eyes rolled more than ever. His voice, too, was hoarse. He looked gigantic. ‘Bad news,’ he said heavily and laid the slip of paper on my bed. I read the telegram. It was from Sir John French.
‘My troops have been engaged all day with the enemy on a line roughly east and west through Mons. The attack was renewed after dark, but we held our ground tenaciously. I have just received a message from G.O.C. 5th French Army that his troops have been driven back, that Namur has fallen, and that he is taking up a line from Maubeuge to Rocroi. I have therefore ordered a retirement to the line Valenciennes-Longueville-Maubeuge, which is being carried out now. It will prove a difficult operation, if the enemy remains in contact. I remember your precise instructions as to method and direction of retirement if necessity arises.
‘I think that immediate attention should be directed to the defence of Havre.’
I did not mind it much till I got to Namur. Namur fallen! Namur taken in a single day—although a French brigade had joined the Belgians in its defence. We were evidently in the presence of new facts and of a new standard of values. If strong fortresses were to melt like wisps of vapour in a morning sun, many judgments would have to be revised. The foundations of thought were quaking. As for the strategic position, it was clear that the encircling arm was not going to be hacked off at the shoulder, but would close in a crushing grip. Where would it stop? What of the naked Channel ports? Dunkirk, Calais, Boulogne! ‘Fortify Havre,’ said Sir John French. One day’s general battle and the sanguine advance and hoped-for counterstroke had been converted into ‘Fortify Havre.’ ‘It will be difficult to withdraw the troops if the enemy remains in contact’—a disquieting observation. I forget much of what passed between us. But the apparition of Kitchener Agonistes in my doorway will dwell with me as long as I live. It was like seeing old John Bull on the rack!
When I met the Admirals later, at ten, they were deeply perturbed about these Channel ports. They had never taken the War Office view of the superiority of the French Army. They saw in this first decisive shock the confirmation of their misgivings. Some one suggested we should at any rate make sure of the Cotentin peninsula, as an ample place of arms, girt on three sides by the sea, from which the British armies of the future might proceed to the rescue of France. Fortify Havre indeed! Already we looked to Cherbourg and St. Nazaire.
* Admiralty think it most important to naval interests to defend Dunkirk, Calais and Boulogne as long as possible. We release Admiral Rouyer’s armoured cruiser squadron to co-operate in the land defences of these three places. We will reinforce him if necessary with a battle squadron. French flotilla bases and naval stores at Calais and Boulogne can be transferred to Dover, and all preparations for that should be immediately worked out.... We wish also to receive without delay French views about land defences of Dunkirk, Boulogne, Calais and Havre and what military prospects are of holding on to all of them. We will, of course, assist in any way in our power.
Lastly we are considering shifting all military stores of British Expeditionary Force now at Boulogne to Cherbourg. We wish to know French views on the necessity for this as the result of the present battle becomes more clear....
* Personal. News from France is disappointing and serious results of battle cannot yet be measured, as it still continues over enormous front.
I have had the telegrams about it repeated to you.
We have not entered the business without resolve to see it through and you may be assured that our action will be proportioned to the gravity of the need.
I have absolute confidence in final result.
No special action is required from you at present, but you should address your mind to a naval situation which may arise where Germans control Calais and French coasts and what ought to be the position of Grand Fleet in that event.
I had not seen the Chancellor of the Exchequer, except at Cabinets, since the fateful Sunday before the war. I had been buried in the Admiralty and he in the Treasury. I sustained vague general impressions of a tremendous financial crisis—panic, bankruptcies, suspension of the Bank Act, moratoriums, paper money—like a distant tumult. I realised that he, aided by the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Reading, was riding the storm and regaining effective control of events. But I did not attempt to follow and appreciate the remarkable sequence of decisions by which an unprecedented, unimaginable situation was met. Now, however, with this fateful news, I felt intensely the need of contact with him, and I wanted to know how it would strike him and how he would face it. So I walked across the Horse Guards Parade and made my way to the tunnel entrance of the Treasury Board Room. It must have been about 10 o’clock in the morning and, as I opened the door, I saw the room was crowded. One of that endless series of conferences with all the great business and financial authorities of Britain, by means of which the corner was turned, was in progress. He saw me at once: I beckoned with my finger and he came out. We went into a little room scarcely bigger than a cupboard which adjoined, and I told him what had happened. I was relieved and overjoyed at his response. He was once again the Lloyd George of Agadir. Not since the morning of the Mansion House speech, three years before, had I seen him so strong and resolute for our country or so sure of its might.
* British retirement on French frontier successfully and skilfully effected. Army now in strong position, well supported. Our casualties reported not severe considering continued engagement with two German corps and two cavalry divisions. Enemy was well punished and lost heavily. Main battle has still to be fought. General impression better this morning. Hope all is well with you.
Then came the days of retreat. We saw that the French armies of the right were holding their own, but all the centre and left was marching southwards towards Paris as fast as possible, while our own five divisions[45] were for several days plainly in the very jaws of destruction. At the Admiralty we received requests to shift the base of the whole army from Havre to St. Nazaire; and with this complicated business we had to cope. The process of retreat continued day after day. A seemingly irresistible compulsion was pressing and forcing backwards the brave armies of France. Why should it stop? Would they ever be able to turn? If France could not save herself, nothing could save her.
Casting about for help in this bitter time, I ventured to make the suggestions which follow. But it was not found possible, in view of all the difficulties, to give effect to them.
Here is an idea which deserves examination. The Siberian troops would, if used against Germany and Austria, have to come south at an awkward moment and derange the communications (so I am told). On the other hand, it would probably be easy to send them to Archangel, and it is (roughly) only six days from Archangel to Ostend.
If a couple of Russian Corps d’Armée were transported round this route, it would be possible to strike at the German communications in a very effective manner.
It is an interesting idea, though I dare say it would not greatly commend itself to the Russians. Don’t trouble to answer.
I hear from many sources of the keen and widespread desire of individual Americans to take part in the war on our side. It has been stated that 50,000 or 60,000 Americans have volunteered, including a number of Virginians. I also hear that wealthy Americans are anxious to subscribe to the equipment of a force. There is no doubt that a large number of American citizens of quality and character are anxious to fight on our side. The value and advantage of such aid cannot be overrated from any point of view. I am ignorant of the law on these subjects: but Foreign Legions have played their part in many wars. It ought to be possible to organise in Canada an American volunteer force amounting to at least a Division, which could go into action as such. Nothing will bring American sympathy along with us so much as American blood shed in the field. What is wanted now is that there should be an announcement made that we will accept the services of Americans who come to Canada or England and volunteer; that they will be formed into units in which they can serve together with their friends and comrades; that they will be able to choose their own regimental officers; and that the British Government will bear the whole expense of equipment and transportation; and that they shall share in every way the perils and fortunes of our troops.
I believe there is a source of fighting manhood here of the highest possible quality, whose very employment would produce beneficial reactions in every direction. The problem is how to set up the rallying flag in Canada, and so indicate where those who wish to help us can go to join.
Personally I was hopeful that the wave of invasion would spend its fury, and as I had indicated in my memorandum of three years before, I believed that if the French forces had not been squandered by precipitate action on the frontiers, an opportunity of striking the decisive blow would occur about the fortieth day. In order to encourage my colleagues I reprinted this memorandum and circulated it to the whole Cabinet on September 2, pointing out that I had never counted upon a victorious issue at the frontiers, had always expected that the French armies would be driven into retreat by the twentieth day, but that, in spite of this, there were good hopes of success. But I had no means of measuring the forces by which this result would be achieved, except by the most general processes.
Meanwhile the impression of an overwhelming disaster was conveyed to England through a hundred channels. Newspaper correspondents made their way in the confusion to the very fringe of the German advance. Stragglers by the thousand and even detachments from the British Army, appeared in a desperate condition far to its rear and on its flanks. In spite of the censorship, the reports in the papers were alarming, while rumour far exceeded anything that was printed. Acute distress was manifested. In these circumstances, at the request of Lord Kitchener and the Prime Minister, I drafted on Sunday, September 4, the following communiqué, which was universally accepted as coming from the Army, and I hope and believe gave comfort without concealing the truth.
It is now possible to make another general survey, in continuation of that issued on August 30, of the operations of the British Army during the last week.
No new main trial of strength has taken place. There have indeed been battles in various parts of the immense front which in other wars would have been considered operations of the first magnitude, but in this war they are merely the incidents of the strategic withdrawal and contraction of the allied forces necessitated by the initial shock on the frontiers and in Belgium, and by the enormous strength which the Germans have thrown into the western theatre while suffering heavily through weakness in the eastern.
The British Expeditionary Army has conformed to the general movement of the French forces and acted in harmony with the strategic conceptions of the French General Staff. Since the battle at Cambrai [Le Cateau] on August 26, where the British troops successfully guarded the left flank of the whole line of French Armies from a deadly turning attack supported by enormous force, the 7th French Army[46] has come into operation on our left, and this, in conjunction with the 5th Army on our right, has greatly taken the strain and pressure off our men. The 5th French Army in particular on August 29 advanced from the line of the Oise River to meet and counter the German forward movement, and a considerable battle developed to the south of Guise. In this the 5th French Army gained a marked and solid success, driving back with heavy loss and in disorder three German Army Corps—the 10th, the Guard, and a reserve corps. It is believed that the Commander of the 10th German Corps was among those killed. In spite of this success, however, and all the benefits which flowed from it, the general retirement to the south continued, and the German Armies, seeking persistently after the British troops, remained in practically continuous contact with our rearguards. On August 30 and 31 the British covering and delaying troops were frequently engaged, and on September 1 a very vigorous effort was made by the Germans, which brought about a sharp action in the neighbourhood of Compiègne. This action was fought principally by the 1st British Cavalry Brigade and the 4th Guards Brigade and was entirely satisfactory to the British. The German attack, which was most strongly pressed, was not brought to a standstill until much slaughter had been inflicted upon them and until ten German guns had been captured. The brunt of this creditable affair fell upon the Guards Brigade, who lost in killed and wounded about 300 men.[47]
After this engagement our troops were no longer molested. Wednesday, September 2, was the first quiet day they had had since the battle of Mons, on August 23. During the whole of this period marching and fighting had been continuous, and in the whole period the British casualties had amounted, according to the latest estimates, to about 15,000 officers and men. The fighting having been in open order upon a wide front, with repeated retirements, has led to a large number of officers and men, and even small parties, missing their way and getting separated, and it is known that a very considerable number of those now included in the total will rejoin the colours safely. These losses, though heavy in so small a force, have in no wise affected the spirit of the troops. They do not amount to a third of the losses inflicted by the British force upon the enemy, and the sacrifice required of the Army has not been out of proportion to its military achievements. In all, drafts amounting to 19,000 men have reached our Army or are approaching them on the line of communications, and advantage is being taken of the five quiet days that have passed since the action of September 1 to fill up the gaps and refit and consolidate the units.
The British Army is now south of the Marne and is in line with the French forces on the right and left. The latest information about the enemy is that they are neglecting Paris and are marching in a south-easterly direction towards the Marne and towards the left and centre of the French line.[48] The 1st German Army is reported to be between La Ferté sous Jouarre and Essises Viffort. The 2nd German Army, after taking Rheims,[49] has advanced to Chateau-Thierry and to the east of that place. The 4th German Army is reported to be marching south on the west of the Argonne between Suippes and Ville sur Tourbe. All these points were reached by the Germans on September 3. The 7th German Army has been repulsed by a French Corps near D’Einville. It would therefore appear that the enveloping movement upon the Anglo-French left flank has been abandoned by the Germans, either because it is no longer practicable to continue such a great extension or because the alternative of a direct attack upon the Allied line is preferred. Whether this change of plan by the Germans is voluntary or whether it has been enforced upon them by the strategic situation and the great strength of the Allied Armies in their front, will be revealed by the course of events.
There is no doubt whatever that our men have established a personal ascendancy over the Germans and that they are conscious of the fact that with anything like even numbers the result would not be doubtful.
At this time I knew, of course, that another supreme battle was impending. My principal fear was that the French would turn too soon and make their new effort before the German thrust had reached its full extension. I was glad therefore to learn on September 3 that the French Government were quitting Paris, as it showed a resolve to treat the capital just as if it were an ordinary tactical feature to be fought round or through as might be convenient in a purely military sense. It also showed a determination to continue the war whatever might happen to Paris. We were now at the thirty-fifth day of mobilisation. The Germans must be strung out in their pursuit and far ahead of supplies, munitions and drafts. The great mass of Paris with its circle of forts must either, like a breakwater, divide the oncoming German waves, or by compelling them to pass wholly to the east of it serve as a secure flank for the French.
And at this culminating moment the Russian pressure began to produce substantial effects. Honour must ever be done to the Tsar and Russian nation for the noble ardour and loyalty with which they hurled themselves into the war. A purely Russian treatment of their military problem would have led the Russian armies into immediate withdrawals from their frontiers until the whole of their vast mobilisation was completed. Instead of this, they added to a forward mobilisation an impetuous advance not only against Austria but into Germany. The flower of the Russian army was soon to be cut down in enormous and fearful battles in East Prussia. But the results of their invasion were gathered at the decisive point. The nerve of the German Headquarters failed. On August 25 two army corps and a cavalry division of the German right were withdrawn from France. On August 31 Lord Kitchener was able to telegraph to Sir John French: ‘Thirty-two trains of German troops were yesterday reported moving from the western field to meet the Russians.’[50]
Awful was the responsibility of General Joffre and the French High Command for the decision which must now be taken. To turn too late was to risk the demoralisation of the armies. To turn too soon was to court another and this time a final defeat. And how compute the balance of all the agonies and pressures simultaneously operating and reciprocally interacting which should determine the dread issue? Whatever the mistakes of the opening phase, however wrong the tactical and strategic conceptions which had induced them, immortal glory crowns the brows of those who gave the fateful signal, and lights the bayonets of the heroic armies that obeyed it.
On September 6, being the thirty-seventh day of mobilisation, all the French armies between Verdun and Paris, together with the British Army and the French forces in Paris and to the north of Paris, turned upon their pursuers and sprang at their throats. The Battle of the Marne had begun.
I may now be permitted to descend to a small scale of events, and to refer to an incident which has caused both stir and controversy.
By the 27th August the Cabinet had formed the opinion that great friction had arisen between Sir John French and General Lanrezac and also between the British and French Head-quarters. Actually the difference was with General Lanrezac, who Sir John French considered had not given him due notice of his intention to retire after the battle on the 22nd and 23rd. We were concerned with the apparent intention of the British Army to retire and refit behind the French left. Their losses so far reported to us did not exceed 10,000 men. We could not measure the exhaustion of the troops nor the extent of the disorganisation inseparable from continued fighting and retreating. We accordingly decided to send Lord Kitchener at once to see the British and French Commanders-in-Chief and make sure that nothing that Britain could do should be left undone.[51] If Lord Kitchener had gone in plain clothes no difficulty would have risen, but his appearance in Paris in the uniform of a Field-Marshal senior to the Commander-in-Chief at that dark and critical moment, wounded and disconcerted Sir John French deeply and not unnaturally. I laboured my utmost to put this right and to make it clear that the Cabinet and not Lord Kitchener were responsible.
I have wanted so much to write to you and yet not to bother you with reading letters. Still, I suppose there are moments when you can find the leisure to read a few lines from a friend. The Cabinet was bewildered by your telegram proposing to retire from the line, coming on the top of a casualty list of 6,000, and your reports as to the good spirit of the troops. We feared that you and Joffre might have quarrelled, or that something had happened to the Army of which we had not been informed. In these circumstances telegraphing was useless, and a personal consultation was indispensable if further misunderstandings were to be avoided.
I am sure it would be wise to have some good officer on your staff like, say, Major Swinton, who could without troubling you unduly give us a clear and complete impression of what is taking place day by day. Our only wish is to sustain and support you. We are at a point where losses will only rouse still further the spirit of the nation, provided they are incurred, as yours have been, in brilliant and successful action. But we ought to be kept in a position to form a true and connected impression of the course of events.
For my own part, I am only anxious that you shall be sustained and reinforced in every way, and I look forward confidently to seeing you ere long at the head of a quarter of a million men, and in the spring of half a million.
I enclose you a paper which I wrote three years ago, which seems to have been borne out by the course of events, and which I hope will continue to be confirmed.
In case any further difficulties arise, and you think I can be of any use, you have only to send for me, and subject to the naval situation I could reach you very quickly by motor-car or aeroplane.
It is hard sitting here day after day with so many friends engaged. The resolution of the nation is splendid. It is a different country to the one you left....
God guard you and prosper our arms.
Thank you very much for your kind and encouraging letter. It was a keen pleasure to hear from you and to read your words.
I have had a terribly anxious time and the troops have suffered severely, but they are simply glorious!
I think you have heard me say that I would be ready to take on any enemy in Europe half as strong again. I say that more than ever now! I can’t find words to say all I think of them.
There has been some extraordinary misunderstanding at home as to my relations with General Joffre, the French C-in-C. We have been on the very best terms all through, and he has spoken most kindly of the help he has received from us. I can’t understand what brought Kitchener to Paris. I am writing to you as one of my greatest friends and I know you’ll let me write freely and privately. His visit was really most unfortunate. He took me away from the front to visit him in Paris on a very critical day when I should have been directing the operation most carefully, and I tell you between ourselves strictly that when I returned to my Head-quarters I found a very critical situation existing (8 p.m.!) and authoritative orders and directions badly needed. It was the day when the Guards and a Cavalry Brigade were so heavily engaged.
I do beg of you, my dear Friend, to add one more to all the many great kindnesses you have done me and stop this interference with field operations.
In reply I sent further explanations which, aided as they were by victory, proved acceptable.
Thank you, my dear Friend, with all my heart for your truly kind reply to my letter, and also for your previous letter of the 4th. I fear I was a little unreasonable about K. and his visit, but we have been through a hard time and perhaps my temper isn’t made any better by it! However, as usual, you have poured balm into my wounds—although they may have been only imaginary—and I am deeply grateful.
Since I wrote to you last the whole atmosphere has changed and for 5 solid days we have been pursuing instead of pursued, and the Germans have had simply hell. This very day we have captured several hundred, cut off a whole lot of transport and got 10 or 12 guns—and the ground is strewn with dead and wounded Germans. Something like this happened yesterday and the day before. But this is nothing to what they have lost in front of the 5th and 6th French armies, which have been much more strongly opposed. They are indeed fairly on the run and we are following hard.
What a wonderful forecast you made in 1911. I don’t remember the paper, but it has turned out almost as you said. I have shown it to a few of my Staff.
I was afraid of Joffre’s strategy at first and thought he ought to have taken the offensive much sooner, but he was quite right.
I felt it vitally important to my whole structure of thought on this war problem to see for myself with my own eyes what was passing at the front and what were the conditions of this new war, and to have personal contact with Sir John French. Reflection and imagination can only build truly when they are checked point by point by direct impressions of reality. I believed myself sufficiently instructed to derive an immense refreshment of judgment from personal investigation without incurring the opposite danger of a distorted view through particular experiences. But it was not until the armies came to a standstill along the line of the Aisne, that I felt justified in asking Lord Kitchener to allow me to accept the repeated invitations of Sir John French. He gladly gave his permission and I started the next morning. On the 16th September the Duke of Westminster drove me from Calais to the British Head-quarters at La Fère-en-Tardenois. We made a fairly wide detour as we had no exact information as to where the flanks of the moving armies actually lay, and it was not until nightfall that we fell in with the left flank of the British line. Sir John had all his arrangements ready made for me, and the next day between daylight and dark I was able to traverse the entire British artillery front from the edge of the Craonne Plateau on the right to the outskirts of Soissons on the left. I met everybody I wanted to meet and saw everything that could be seen without unnecessary danger. I lunched with “The Greys” then commanded by that fine soldier Colonel Bulkeley-Johnson. I had a long talk with Sir Henry Rawlinson on a haystack from which we could observe the fire of the French artillery near Soissons. I saw for the first time what then seemed the prodigy of a British aeroplane threading its way among the smoke puffs of searching shells. I saw the big black German shells, “the coal boxes” and “Jack Johnsons” as they were then called, bursting in Paissy village or among our patient, impassive batteries on the ridge. I climbed to a wooded height beneath which the death-haunted bridge across the Aisne was visible. When darkness fell I saw the horizon lighted with the quick flashing of the cannonade. Such scenes were afterwards to become commonplace: but their first aspect was thrilling. I dined with the young officers of the Head-quarters Staff and met there, for the last time alas, my brilliant, gallant friend Hugh Dawnay. Early next morning I opened with Sir John French the principal business I had to discuss, namely, the advantages of disengaging the British Army from its position on the Aisne and its transportation to its natural station on the sea flank in contact with the Navy. I found the Field Marshal in the most complete accord, and I undertook to lay his views before Lord Kitchener and the Prime Minister, who I knew would welcome such a development. I started home immediately and reached London the next morning.
Contact with the Army was always a great encouragement to every one who visited France. In the field, in spite of the newly-dug graves and hurrying ambulances, there was not the same sense of tragedy as hung around our windows in Whitehall. But I could not share the universal optimism of the Staff. It was firmly believed and loudly declared on every side that if all available reinforcements in officers and men were sent to the Army without delay, the war would be finished by Christmas. Fierce were the reproaches that the War Office were withholding vitally needed officers, instructors and material for the purpose of training vast armies that would never be ready in time. I combated these views to the best of my ability, being fully convinced of Lord Kitchener’s commanding foresight and wisdom in resisting the temptation to meet the famine of the moment by devouring the seed-corn of the future. I repeated the memorable words he had used to the Cabinet that ‘The British Empire must participate in the land war on the greatest scale and that in no other way could victory be won.’ Taking a complete survey, I consider now that this prudent withholding from the Army in the field in the face of every appeal and demand the key-men who alone could make the new armies, was the greatest of the services which Lord Kitchener rendered to the nation at this time, and it was a service which no one of lesser authority than he could have performed.