The French and German Theories of War

I

IN France, after the period of prostration that followed the War of 1870, theories of strategy and tactics swiftly took a new direction. As the new army increased in strength, the former tendencies toward the defensive system began to disappear. Much profound study was given to the wars of the First Empire, and the secret of Napoleon’s victories was sought in manœuvres alone. It came to be believed that the offensive was indispensable in every case. Doubtless there was merit in that doctrine. France owed to it, particularly, the resurrection of the military spirit which was destined to be one of the outstanding facts in the years preceding the present war. But it was accompanied by serious disadvantages. To all intent it presupposed a war of manœuvres, an ‘open-air’ war, in which evolutions would be easily carried out and of great extent — that is to say, a war absolutely different from that which we have seen on the Franco-German front ever since the victory of the Marne.

Our staffs had not paid sufficient attention to the lessons of recent wars — perhaps because they were still hypnotized by the campaigns of the First Empire. The slavish acceptance of Napoleon’s methods was no less mistaken than their scornful rejection had been in 1870-1871. If the leading principles of the art of war still are and will always be true, their application varies with the progress achieved in armies. Was it not the Master himself who said that tactics must inevitably change every ten years?

The South-African, Manchurian, and Balkan wars had demonstrated the major importance of fortifications and of heavy artillery. These indications were still unperceived for the most part. It was considered that campaigns carried on under peculiar conditions could not afford information applicable in a great European war. Some very distinguished experts, General Langlois at their head, showed themselves hostile to heavy field artillery. He did not believe in the possibility of artillery dislodging an enemy with unimpaired morale from a strong position. He would combine with it the threat of infantry, that is to say, assault. He went so far as to write, in his Field Artillery in Connection with Other Arms, ‘ Heavy guns, in a field artillery of which mobility should be one of the leading characteristics, are a useless incumbrance, and the transportation of their heavy projectiles, especially on highways, introduces a serious complication. Let them remain in the siege trains. There should be but one kind of gun in our field artillery—our “ seventy-fives ” are adapted for all tasks in flat country.’

Another general officer, also belonging to the artillery aim, General Percin, expressed himself to almost the same effect in a work issued on the eve of the war — Le Combat.

In 1911 an officer of the Staff, who was destined to fall gloriously at the Aisne in command of an army corps, Colonel de Grandmaison, delivered two courses of lectures which aroused widespread attention and which had a marked influence on the regulations then in preparation. Full of original views, expressed in a style no less original, these studies (published in 1912 under the title, The Idea of Safety and the Engagement of Large Units) give a very clear idea of the way in which the waging of war was then understood in France.

Grandmaison disclaims anything like the formulation of a general rule. ‘It is even more true than in any other military matter, that in the management of large units there are none but special cases.’ Having made this statement, he notes among the manœuvres contrary to rule the constant necessity ‘of engaging at the outset on a wide front, instead of spreading out gradually as the progress of the battle seems to demand.’

This tendency toward the widening of fronts has many causes, among which these predominate — ‘ the constant fear of being outflanked and the sense of the superiority of converging attacks in the present state of armaments.’

The fear of being outflanked seems to Grandmaison one of the characteristics of present-day fighting. The fact is that, in a defensive battle, the disaster of being outflanked may become irreparable more suddenly than under the old conditions. In the offensive the frontal battle is so long, so costly, and so uncertain in its results, that all methods of reducing its extent seem worth while. Grandmaison does not conceal the fact that these fears seem to him justified, and that he is in no wise opposed to the extension of fronts: ‘The real danger — unless special dispositions have been made beforehand — will not lie in extending the front too far, but in not extending it far enough.’

Thereafter, like Field-Marshal von Schlieffen, he extols the formation in several columns with wide intervals, which alone permits a rapid initial deployment on the corresponding front. He is led thus to turn his attention to the question of safety during the manœuvre, and concludes that in France the immediate rôle of covering detachments (advance-guard and flank-guard) has been exaggerated and, at the same time, perverted in the offensive.

We demand of this arrangement for immediate protection something that no system should or could give, namely, information which will enable the commander to decide upon his dispositions with confidence. On the other hand, we rely for the protection of our columns upon the external action of these covering detachments, whereas, especially in the offensive, such protection must in reality be looked for rather in the power to attack itself — that is to say, in the dispositions made for attacking quickly and in force.

On this point again, Grandmaison approaches the ideas of Von Schlieffen, and even of General von Bernhardi — in other words, the doctrinaires who exerted a preponderant influence on the German army on the eve of the war.

From this conception of immediate security, as Grandmaison describes it, there results an almost complete atrophy of the principle of the offensive. The commander waits until he is definitely informed concerning the enemy’s dispositions before deciding how to employ his main body. In this way he degrades the attack to the level of the defense, to which all initiative is forbidden. To avoid the preconceived idea, we foster the preconceived appre-hension, or the aggressive-defensive, and one serves as well as the other to ensure defeat. A commander would, in truth, incur a serious risk by applying these timid methods in face of ‘a widely extended and violent assault, following its preordained path, without deviation and without evasion ’ — in other words, in face of the Germans. It is, Grandmaison continues, the rapidity in beginning the action which guarantees us against the enemy’s manœuvres. ‘In reality, the safety of a body of troops in an attack is based on this fact: a man whom you have by the throat, and who is busily engaged in parrying your blows, cannot attack you in flank and in rear. The value of the method depends on the speed with which you jump at his throat and the firmness of your grip.’

Under these conditions it is not surprising that Grandmaison recommends an offensive on the whole front: ‘The custom, which seems to be spreading, of employing different tactics on different sections of the front and of skillfully combining defensive and offensive, means the death of all true offensive.’

Instead of employing this timid method, well adapted to paralyze all enthusiasm, we should engage at once, on a front broadened beforehand — extended almost as far as our effective strength will bear. In short, it should be a matter of the simultaneous engagement of several columns, carrying out, not a demonstration or anything like it, but an attack ‘in dead earnest’ with the bulk of the columns. Such simultaneous offensives on a wide front will not interfere with the formation of reserves, whose employment will be, in a certain measure, prearranged. They will most frequently be posted in rear of one or both wings, and will sometimes extend beyond them. On this point again Grandmaison’s ideas approximate to Schlieffen’s.

The colonel does not fail to notice this similarity. He relies, however, on the slowness of the German deployment — it is hard to see just why. This is how he views the matter of engaging battle with our future adversaries: —

‘We do not propose to give them time to form in battle order. Our advance guard, and, immediately behind it, our main body will assume the offensive at once, in the direction of their objectives. On the other hand, we shall still have some forces in reserve at the outset.’

This is a hazardous sort of warfare, full of formidable risks, which Grandmaison proposes, and he does not conceal that fact. He admits the risk, because it enhances the importance of victory — if victory ensues. But he seems to forget that the risk may increase to an extraordinary degree the burden of a defeat.

His last words are that we must foster ‘with passion, with exaggeration, and even in the most minute details of instruction, everything which bears the mark — however slight — of the offensive spirit. Let us even carry it to excess, and that perhaps will not be enough.’

We see how intense a partisan Grandmaison is of the offensive, and of the offensive to the limit, the offensive whether or no. The fact is that it is German ideas, especially Von Schlieffen’s, which lie at the root of this doctrine. However, he fights shy of the attack en tenaille² so dear to the heart of the Teuton field-marshal.

There is a measure of truth in what he says as to the enforced extension of fronts, and as to the advantages of an energetic offensive undertaken as speedily as possible. But the doctrine is open to the criticism of being too dogmatic, and of taking too little account of facts. It would gain immensely if it were supported by examples borrowed from the most recent wars, and if it were not derived so directly from abstract reasoning, more or less accurate, and from pure speculation.

We have emphasized Colonel Grandmaison’s theories because they influenced the studies of the army staff and the war school on the eve of the mobilization of 1914. While authoritative voices — those, for example, of General Larrezac and Colonel Grouard — were raised to point out the danger of this infatuation with the most hazardous sort of offensive, they were not heeded as they should have been.

Furthermore, the regulations promulgated in France shortly before the war bear the imprint of the general tendencies that have been pointed out. The most important, in this regard, is the decree of October 28,1913, entitled ‘Regulation as to the management of large units’ (a group of armies, an army, an army corps, and, to a certain extent, a body of cavalry).

This document, wherein we readily discern a number of Colonel Grandmaison’s ideas, lays down in principle an axiom borrowed from Clausewitz: War aims at the annihilation of the adversary. But it admits the possibility, even the necessity, of a rapid execution, at the risk of being contradicted by events.

‘ In the present status of warfare . . . everything urges the endeavor to reach a decision in the shortest possible time, with a view of bringing the struggle to a speedy close.’ It admits, therefore, the ‘thunder-clap’ after the style of Napoleon: ‘The decisive battle . . . constitutes the essential act of the war.’ Offensive tactics alone can lead to positive results. However, the regulation does not adopt as its own the German views concerning the preconceived idea. In the scheme of manœuvre, it says, ‘any disposition would be premature if it is based upon a definitive opinion, arbitrarily formed, of the enemy’s purposes, so long as he remains at liberty to change his position.’

In respect to the matter of safety, it reproduces an idea of Grandmaison: ‘The best way for a commander to ensure freedom of action is to impose his will on the enemy by a vigorously pushed offensive according to a wellconsidered controlling plan.’ Let us remark in passing that this last clause contradicts the passage previously quoted concerning the preconceived idea.

A very open order facilitates marching and enveloping movements. It lends itself readily, by closing up the intervals, to a subsequent closer formation in view of an actual battle. Theoretically each army corps controls at least one road; thus, on this point again, the regulation approximates German theories.

By reason of the extent of the battlefront, it is difficult to shift the position of large bodies of men materially in the course of the action. The commander of the army, therefore, determines, most frequently beforehand, the direction of the main attack, and the weather conditions in which it will be undertaken — fresh confirmation of what we just now said as to the preconceived idea.

As to the actual method of attack, the regulation does not lay down any fixed rules, although it allows its preference to appear: the main action may be directed either against one wing of the enemy or against his front. Ordinarily, however, the attack on a wing is more advantageous, for it leads toward an enveloping movement. The frontal attack is more difficult, and, generally speaking, has less important results.

Under these conditions it would seem that, in manœuvres preparatory to deployment, an extended disposition is preferable to a deep one. Nevertheless this same regulation has nothing to say in this regard, and one cannot fail to approve its silence, for the choice manifestly depends upon the special circumstances.

In the explanatory report which accompanies this document, its framers insist further on the advantages of the offensive: ‘The conduct of warfare is controlled by the necessity of imparting a powerfully offensive impulse.’ But they seem strongly opposed to the concentration of armies on the battlefield, so dear to Moltke and Schlieffen: ‘The essential thing is, first of all, to get the forces together, and assume the offensive as soon as they are got together.’ As for the offensive itself, it is governed by the same rules as in Germany: ‘The action, when once begun, should be pushed vigorously, without reservation, to the extreme limit of our power.’ In accord with Grandmaison, the Commission sees in the headlong attack the best means of ensuring the safety of the column: ‘A vigorous offensive forces the enemy to adopt defensive measures, and is the surest method of protecting the high command, as well as the troops, against any danger of surprise.’

Above all things we must impose our will on the enemy: ‘In war every decision of the high command should be inspired by a determination to assume and retain the initiative of operations.’

Lastly, the Commission cries out against the distinctions between ‘demonstrative battle,’ ‘drawn-out battle,’ ‘battle of attrition,’ and battle pure and simple: ‘So far as the executive officer is concerned, the attack must, in all cases, be conducted with the utmost vigor and a firm determination to come to close quarters with the enemy in order to destroy him.’ It is the commanding officer’s business to arrange the distribution of his forces in such wise that a certain section of the enemy’s front will be assaulted less violently than a certain other section.

To sum up — on the eve of the war, the same tendencies toward the most energetic offensive prevailed in both French and German armies. There is no difference except in respect to the details of the attack. We admit the possibility of success in a frontal attack and of breaking through, as well as of success in an attack on the wing; we do not ascribe to the latter, and especially to the attack en tenaille, the altogether preponderant importance given to them by Schlieffen and most of the other Germans. Perhaps there is a tendency in France to force the action and to bring the main body into line, whereas in Germany the preliminary battle would be conducted with more moderation. But the substance of both theories is identical.

Let us add, however, that the German staff appears to have grasped much more fully than ours the major importance to be assumed by the fortification of the battlefield, by heavy artillery, and by aviation. In this respect the first weeks of the war taught us some cruel lessons.

However that may be, the inevitable result of the mutual inclination toward a general offensive was that the battles of August, 1914, most frequently took on the aspect of chance combats between two adversaries going straight to the attack without looking back. On our part, our natural impulses, intensified by those resulting from a study of the regulations and of the most authoritative publications, urged us to rush our assaults even more, without giving sufficient thought to artillery preparation and machine-guns. This state of mind, added to serious errors in concentration, and in the conception of the original plan of operations, is sufficient to explain our set-backs at the beginning of the war. The victory of the Marne, and the series of battles and engagements which preceded it, prove in most conclusive fashion that the offensive is not an infallible method of procedure in war; that, as Clausewitz teaches, the defensive is often susceptible of leading to the happiest results; and, lastly, that heavy artillery, fieldfortification, and aviation will henceforth play a part of first importance in war.

As for the Germans, when their headlong rush into France ended in a repulse of which they strove vainly to deny the unparalleled seriousness, they might well be convinced that enveloping attacks are not devoid of the gravest risks. Their effect is irresistible on a single condition — that the adversary remains inactive in face of the blow which threatens one of his flanks. Schlieffen’s attack en tenaille presents the same disadvantages on a more extensive scale. Not only does it require, for complete success, inertia on the part of the enemy; but it is essential also that nothing shall happen to interfere with its execution.

II

It was in this way that the evolution of present-day doctrines of warfare began in the two armies — an evolution brought about by events, and the end of which has certainly not yet been reached. Let us note, first, that, so far as the Germans are concerned, the present status of warfare, which recalls the seventeenth century by virtue of the importance of the part played by fortification and lines of defense, and by the slowness of offensive operations — this status is the very negation of their ambitions and of their earlier theories. Whereas they formerly maintained that they could carry on a war swiftly, by manœuvres of vast extent and by violent offensive, with speedily decisive results, they have found themselves forced to adopt the siege method with its slow progress, and with the enormous consumption of munitions and matériel which it entails. Their plan manifestly was to crush France in a week or two, thanks to the strategic surprise resulting from the violation of Belgian territory. Then they would have turned against Russia and would easily have worked their will on that immense body, headless and with feet of clay. Their expectations were absolutely falsified.

Under these conditions, we should not be surprised to find them hesitating between diverse tendencies. Sometimes they hold true to the doctrine of envelopment of the adversary’s wings; and again they deal straight frontal blows. Sometimes they attribute to artillery preparation its full present importance; at other times they operate by assaults with great masses of infantry, and do not shrink from the immense slaughter made possible by the slavish discipline of a nation fanaticized by a vision of superhuman grandeur.

Although they have met with little but reverses on the Franco-British front since September, 1914, there is no dissembling the fact that elsewhere, on the Russian front, in Roumania, and very recently in Italy, they have achieved most brilliant successes. But we must not fail to recognize the share that diplomatic and political measures have had in these victories. Manifestly they have often been due to intrigues most skillfully managed — with the complicity of traitors or simpletons — rather than to purely military calculations and manœuvres. In this regard the recent Austro-German offensive on the Italian front may stand as a typical example.

On the Western front the Germans have been powerless to resort to the same expedients. After vainly attempting an offensive in the grand style in Flanders, late in 1914, they have confined themselves to an almost continuous defensive. The assault on Verdun, begun in February, 1916, never had, in truth, so extensive an object as the attack on the line of the Yser. The Germans tried to attain a limited objective, rather of a moral than of a material nature.

Let us make a rapid scrutiny of the battle in Flanders. Our adversaries apparently set out to crush the Allies’ left wing, in order to open up the existing passage between their central front and the English Channel. They proposed to isolate England as far as possible, — she was their most cordially detested foe, — and, very probably, to make a direct threat at her territory by way of the shore of the Pas de Calais and the North Sea. As the locus of an attack so serious in its proportions and in the consequences which it might bring in its train, the German staff chose the one sector, perhaps, on that vast front, where nature offered insurmountable obstacles to such an attack. Flanders, especially the eastern part, is an almost impracticable country. Though the occasional elevations can almost be called insignificant, the Flemish plain is as difficult for an army as certain mountainous countries. The clayey sub-soil and the abundance of streams make the movement of troops very arduous except on the towingpaths, railroads, canals, and rivers; and all these routes are easy to cut.

Nevertheless, it was through these marshes, these Watergangs, these inundated lands, that the Germans rushed to the assault dense columns, marching in step and singing hymns in praise of their bloody fatherland. They had crushed the defense of Antwerp and taken possession of the city. They had entered Ghent, Bruges, and Ostend. They arrived before the Yser, a narrow stream which flows sluggishly through a low plain intersected by canals and drainage ditches. There is water everywhere — in the, air which is incessantly saturated by showers, on the earth, and under the earth. To the north, the town of Nieuport, where the main locks are; to the south, Dixmude and Ypres.

It was this front which the Kaiser gave imperative orders to break through, on October 21, 1914, with Furnes as the objective. Four assaulting columns were formed; two were to attack the front between Nieuport and Dixmude, which was held by the Belgian army. The other two converged upon Dixmude, which was occupied by French Admiral Ronarc’h’s naval fusiliers.

The general assault was set for the 24th, at nine in the evening. It took place at the precise hour fixed. The first two columns crossed the Yser and advanced toward the canal which runs alongside that stream. In spite of their vigorous resistance the Belgians were forced back to the line Ramscapelle-Perwyse-Dixmude, where they were joined by considerable French reinforcements. Thanks to them, the Allies took the offensive on the 25th, and drove back into the canal the German battalions, no longer supported by their artillery, which was mired in the swamps. It was a complete disaster. All who were unable to recross the canal were killed or drowned.

At the same time Admiral Ronarc’h’s fusiliers covered themselves with glory in the defense of Dixmude. Their resistance lasted from October 20, the day when the bombardment began, to November 10, when the Germans entered the town. From 6000 men they were reduced to 2000. Of the 50,000 of the enemy who attacked them, 10,000 lay thickly strewn about the surrounding plain.

This magnificent episode was but one incident of the battle of Flanders. On October 26, after the disaster of the 25th, the Kaiser had arrived at Thielt, and had given orders to make a fresh attempt toward the South, in the direction of Ypres. During the five following days, five army corps — more than 150,000 men — attacked the 40kilometre front between that city and La Bassée. British and French vied with one another in tenacity. The last general assault took place on November 10. That was the day when the ruins of Dixmude were wrenched from our grasp. On the 11th there was a fresh effort, this time directed against Ypres alone. The Prussian Guard was engaged and suffered very heavy casualties. On the 15th the German offensive was shattered for good and all. The Kaiser had perforce to renounce the ‘To Calais!’ with which he had inflamed the ardor of his troops. Thereafter the war took on the form of a siege, on the whole Western front, but a siege in which millions of the Allies were engaged against Fort Deutschland.

Another example of offensive fighting in which our enemy was much more fortunate, was the battle of the Vistula in July and August, 1915. We can see therein the application, on a very vast theatre, of the strategic theories of Field-Marshal von Schlieffen.

The battle of the Donawetz, which began on May 2, 1915, had broken communications between the Russian forces echeloned before the Carpathians and those in Poland. That victory, due mainly to an overwhelming superiority in artillery, had brought about a twofold withdrawal of our allies. They had fallen back, on the one hand, toward the affluents of the Dniester, on the other hand, into the district between the Vistula and the Bug.

Meanwhile, the armies facing each other to the west of the Narew and the Middle Vistula had remained inactive — an inactivity which was inexplicable on the part of the Russians. The German forces on the left flank — the armies of Von Scholz and Von Galivetz — faced the Narew; the centre — Prince Leopold of Bavaria and Von Woirsch — were at the loop of the Vistula, to the west and southwest of Warsaw; the right — Archduke Joseph and Von Mackensen — between the Upper Vistula and the Bug. These last-named armies, which alone had been in action up to this time, had halted on July 2 half-way between the Galician frontier and the Lublin-Cholm front, which the Russians still held.

At that time the line of the opposing forces between the Bobi and the Bug had the shape of a parabolic curve, with its peak on the Bzoura, west of Warsaw. The German armies were deployed on the outer side of this curve, in the most favorable positions for an offensive en tenaille. The Russians had the advantage of ‘ interior lines,’ and of a closely knit formation comparatively well-developed. It does not appear that they were able to make the most of these advantages as they should have done.

The German plan was as follows: to join to the eastward of Warsaw the jaws of the vise formed by the four armies on the two wings, while the centre remained stationary. On July 12, 1915, everything was set in motion on the Narew and to the south, between the Bug and the Vistula. On the 25th the German left forced a passage across the Narew from Rojan to Pultusk, thus most seriously threatening the line of the Vistula, at right angles with the former of those streams. The Russians still placed their reliance on the three fortified places— Novo-Georgievsk, at the junction of the Bug and the Narew, Warsaw, and Ivangorod to the south. Those fortifications soon showed themselves powerless to resist the heavy artillery. It may be, too, that other causes came into play — the Russians were unfamiliar with the military art.

On July 30 Archduke Joseph entered Lublin, while Mackensen was making rapid progress on the extreme right. At the same time, on the other flank, Von Gallwitz was marching between the Narew and Bug. He even made his way as far as the latter stream. On both flanks the Germans were pushing forward toward the axis of the Russian line of communication — WarsawBrest-Litovsk. Mackensen appeared in front of the latter fortress while the Russian forces in the Bzoura had more than twice the distance to go before reaching it.

It was not, however, until August 3 that our allies’ centre began a long and difficult retreat, which was destined not to come to an end finally until it reached the Dvina, more than 400 kilometres from the starting-point. Contrary to all anticipations the movement was carried out without excessive losses. If, as seemed likely, the Germans had planned ‘to repeat the day of Sedan, on a great scale,’ their expectation was defeated. The Russians succeeded in reaching the Niemen and the Upper Bug, near Kovno, Grodno, and Brest-Litovsk. It was from that region that they finally fell back on the defensive positions which they held, with various fluctuations of fortune, until the fall of the Tsar had given over their ill-fated country to a state of anarchy, the deplorable consequences of which are becoming more manifest from day to day.

The French and British armies had not for their adversaries, like the Germans on the Eastern front, forces undermined by treachery, by revolutionary propaganda, and too often lacking the most essential supplies. They were confronted by German troops, supplied with a matériel which was at first greatly superior to theirs, but inferior in numbers and, since the battles of the Marne and of Flanders, somewhat impaired in morale.

III

Thereupon the conflict assumed the shape of siege warfare. There was no alternative but to submit to it, for lack of resources, and especially of munitions. Indeed, we may well believe that this siege warfare on the Franco-British front will be prolonged until the hour, perhaps still far distant, when the demoralization of the German forces shall have gone so far as to result in a complete loss of equilibrium.

In the course of the year 1915 certain undertakings in Champagne and Artois had important results on several occasions, but they were purchased by much bloodshed for lack of sufficient preparation. We were not as yet provided, either with the due proportion of heavy artillery and trench machines, or with a sufficient quantity of munitions. Moreover, the dispositions for conducting the assaults were not always well-judged. Experience led to the establishment of new rules, which differed from those in force on the first day of the war. They were contained in two sheets issued to the armies by Grand Headquarters: ‘A Study of the Question of the Attack at the Present Stage of the War: Impressions and Reflections of a Company Commander’; and ‘Notes concerning the Attack: Impressions of a Battalion Commander.’ The first is founded especially on the enlightenment furnished by the offensive in Artois in May; the second on that by the September battle in Champagne. Here are their most salient ideas.

Of all the phases of infantry attack studied in times of peace, trench-warfare makes little use of any except the last —the assault. The infantry begins its part of the battle by assault, and its action thereafter is simply a succession of ‘waves.’ But an essential condition is that the units concerned be brought up to the parallèles de départ,³ in close formation and full numbers, fresh, supplied with what is necessary, well informed as to their objective, and well under the control of their officers. Then it is a question of urging them on with a rush to an objective, where they must establish themselves immovably, and which will serve, in its turn, as a starting-point for a second similar onrush.

In order that a body of infantry may fulfill such a mission, it must carry out its forward movement under much more difficult conditions than formerly. In fact, the men must march in Indian file from the last comparatively sheltered zone to the point of assault, through kilometres of narrow and involved passages. The preparation of the locus of the assault is therefore absolutely indispensable. The end sought is to ensure the outflow at a fixed hour of unfatigued men; the support in due season of sufficient and really fresh reinforcements; abundant supplies of provisions, water, and munitions, and the opportune arrival of troops destined to make the most of the success of the assault.

The possibility of fulfilling these various conditions depends, too, upon a preliminary operation — artillery preparation. Since the outbreak of the war this preparation has taken on constantly increasing importance. In 1915, in default of heavy artillery and of munitions as well, we were fain to be content with results which would appear to-day most inadequate. The most trivial successes were often very costly.

The programme of this preparation was at that time as follows: — to destroy the barbed-wire entanglements; to isolate or wipe out the trenchdefenders; to prevent enemy artillery from coming into action; to bar the way to the reserves; and to destroy the machine-guns as soon as their location was revealed.

The chief part of this task fell to the ‘seventy-fives’ and the trench-guns. But the resort of the Germans to deeper and deeper shelters and to concrete blockhouses and cupolas for machineguns, was already leading to the intensive use of heavy artillery — a use which has become well-nigh universal since, assuming proportions which had but lately seemed beyond all likelihood.

In the autumn of 1915, the German defensive dispositions presented the following aspect, generally speaking: a continuous line, along the whole front, consisting of two or three trenches one behind the other, at intervals of one hundred to three hundred metres, connected by numerous communication trenches; in many cases each was protected by barbed-wire entanglements; centres of resistance, formed by villages, farmhouses, woods, or even by vast outworks outlined by a tangle of trenches, with machine-guns under cupolas, and light-artillery pieces; a second line of defense, which was not always continuous.

The attack on such a position took the following course: a first line was made up, comprising several assaulting columns; a second line, as strong as the first, accompanied by batteries after the first trench was carried; a reserve, without a special initial assignment, which was to provide reinforcements where necessary and overcome stubborn resistance. In the last line were cavalry, motor-drawn guns, motor machine-guns, battalions of motortrucks, with crews of pioneers to clear the roads. And lastly, large bodies of infantry, ready to begin new battles and to enter into action two or three hours from the beginning of the operation.

The first line consisted of two or three ‘waves’ of assault. If the distance to be traversed was more than 100 metres, the first wave comprised whole companies in one line, the men half a pace apart. It rushed forward to the assault immediately upon the cessation of the artillery fire, and tried to reach the enemy trench before the defenders could come out of their shelters. Down to that moment it ordinarily had no occasion to fire.

When the distance was more than 100 metres, a different disposition was adopted for the first wave: a line of skirmishers five paces apart, and 50 metres in their rear the assaulting force properly speaking, in a single line, elbow to elbow, the officers ahead, the file-closers four metres in rear. The skirmishers were supposed to protect by their fire the movement of the assaulting force, the detachments setting out from the starting-point one after another, at a single bound, and marching in step if possible. They did not break into the gymnastic gait until the movement was well developed; the charge proper started about 60 metres from the enemy. Even then they preserved the alignment as far as possible and crossed the barbed wire; then began the hand-to-hand fighting, for which there can be no rules.

When the first trench was taken they swept it clean and re-formed, lying on the ground, ten metres farther on. Then they opened fire on the second trench, and rushed forward again to the assault. The first wave was instructed to break as far ahead as possible. The second started the instant that the first reached the enemy trench.

It does not appear that all these prescribed steps have stood the test of experience. The augmented strength of the German lines, and the resistance of their shelters, have led the high command to restrict the width of the fronts aimed at, and to limit the objectives in respect to depth, while increasing the intensity of the preparation. On the other hand, the Germans have sometimes abandoned the system of continuous trenches, to adopt a system of separate elements, reinforced by nests of machine-guns which are disposed with the greatest care and often constitute veritable points of support. They pretend to regard their lines of defense as flexible, stationing a limited effective in the first line while keeping heavy reserves behind. In case of an assault the first line is easily carried, but strong counter-attacks are able to wipe out the results so easily obtained.

The German theory does not, however, seem to be absolutely settled on these various points. It still wavers between several solutions. One unquestionable fact is that, on the FrancoBritish front, the Germans have lost their superiority in morale, and the initiative that derives therefrom. In a great majority of cases, those impassioned partisans of the most vigorous offensive are reduced to the defensive pure and simple. If the backsliding of the Russian Maximalists had not come to their assistance, it is probable that the year 1917 would have witnessed decisive events of a nature to hasten the end of the nightmare which has lain so heavily on the civilized world since the first days of August, 1914.