How Germany makes war

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editor's preface V author's introduction . . . . ix

CHAPTER I the secret of modern war .... 3

Chapter I The Secret Of Modern War Chapter I

The nature of modern war is not a simple matter. It is subject to numerous modifications according to the character of the contending parties and of the various theatres of war. It is altogether different when we are fighting in the Balkans or in Manchuria, when Russians are fighting against Japanese, or Spaniards against Riff-Kabyles. The fundamental principles of war certainly remain the same, wherever it is waged; but special conditions cause in each case special methods of employment of the fighting forces, and these latter, again, will frequently differ.

If we are moving with forces of some size in a desolate, roadless, or mountainous country, we are obliged to adopt proceedings altogether different from those obtaining in a vast, slightly undulating plain, where railways and a well-built and extensive network of roads abound. Again, things will be different if we carry on war with small armies in a country little cultivated, like the English in South Africa, or are operating with armies of the size of those of the Great European Military Powers in a richly cultivated and densely populated theatre of war.

It is this latter sort of war which we are concerned with most, for it is such a war we ourselves will have to wage, and this kind of war it is that stares us in the face like an inscrutable sphinx. There seems to be no doubt that, in a war like this, forces will assert themselves which we have' no experience to gauge, and the effect of which we can scarcely properly realize. Whole nations are called up to take the field against each other. They are going to fight with arms of patterns more perfect than ever before. The proportionate numbers of infantry, artillery, and cavalry are quite different from those of former times. Means of transport will be used to an extent and of such a perfect type as we have never seen used before by any army in the field. Every technical means is pressed into the service to facilitate communication. Even the air must be conquered; dirigible balloons and flying machines will form quite a new feature in the conduct of war. The question also arises how modern permanent fortification will affect the combat. It seems that all trade and industry must stop, when every capable youth is called away from work. It has been said that the effect of modern arms is such as to incapacitate the weakened nervous system of the highly civilized nations of Mid-Europe to resist this effect for any length of time. And lastly, we must also weigh the influence of naval warfare on what is going on on land, and what its effect will be on the whole campaign. The course of events at sea may mean starvation for the population. In short, a future war will reveal to us a series of seemingly incalculable forces. One might almost come to think that success in war will be more or less a matter of chance, which can in no way be influenced by foresight; that the will of the commander may be, so to say, switched off in the uncontrollable play of these tremendous forces; that we can only call up these forces, and then leave it to the mere effect of their powers, to produce whatever they choose from this turmoil.

I think it is not so, after all. If we closely examine the possible effect of all the new phenomena which in a future war must assert themselves, and then test them in their relation to the general laws of warfare, we must succeed in getting a general idea of the nature of modern war, and in ascertaining a method by which we can act most suitably.

It is true there are still experienced and prominent soldiers who think that, in spite of all changes in armaments, Moltke's strategy and conduct of war is the last word on the subject, and that it is now merely a question of finding out by what principles Moltke acted, so as to be prepared for successful military operations in future as well.

I do not think that such an interpretation corresponds at all to Moltke's spirit and genius. The very way he acted seems to prove the truth that in every war we must make use of the lessons of the past only in so far as we can apply them to, or modify them in accordance with, the changed conditions of our time. He, of all men, was the one who worked with an open mind at all that concerns the conduct of war. He never disregarded the lessons of any war, nor was he satisfied with them alone. He was ever looking ahead, to turn to account new developments.

That is the way he has shown us. We are not to rest satisfied with what he has thought and done, but to go on unfettered, turning to account fresh developments. We are to examine the conditions under which a future war must be conducted without blindly believing in authorities, and, from what Moltke and the German wars of unification have taught us, to develop new ideas and principles according to modern requirements.

"How the actual operations will turn out next," writes the Field-Marshal in a memorial of November, 1 86 1, concerning a future campaign,* "becomes more uncertain, indeed, the further we trace their progress. Yet we may consider the most likely contingencies, because they always start from given and permanently existing conditions. Experience of former wars must not be neglected, but is no safe guide for our days. Fifty years or a century have since passed and changed the political and strategical situation. . . . To arrive at the result intended, the only way left to us is to try to anticipate in outline the military events of the future, and get thoroughly acquainted with the present conditions. Here we have to reckon partly with unknown and changeable factors, yet, on the other hand, often with known and permanent ones. We cannot arrive at a result correct in all essentials, but we can ascertain what is probable, and this, in war, is always the only basis on which we can found our measures."

What the Field-Marshal expresses here seems to be of a more general application, I think, than he meant it to be. What he says of the "actual operations" applies to war in general; for is not war experience the only possible foundation of military knowledge, the material, as it were, of which theory is in need for a scientific structure of a doctrine of war, whilst the changed conditions and new phenomena of the moment always create, by their presumable future development, new factors, which in actual warfare peremptorily demand consideration? But the past, the present, and the future are invariably dominated

* Moltke's "Military Correspondence," Part iii. No. 4. r by the general laws which are always and everywhere inherent in war as a social phenomenon.

If, therefore, we wish to recognize the probable character of a future war and the new demands it will make on its conduct, we must proceed from the twofold point of view which Moltke considers necessary to adopt in weighing matters.

By the lessons which we learn from military history and our own experiences of war we must try to discern "the permanent factors" with which we have to reckon, and the laws of development. This is the only way we have for further guidance of what in war is altogether possible and feasible. War experience alone enables us to become aware of all the frictions, moral influences, chances, and personal elements in war, which all are of far-reaching importance, and almost completely beyond theoretical appreciation. But we must next closely examine under what external and internal conditions a future war must probably be conducted; how the conduct of war will be affected by the changes in military matters since we gained our last experiences in war ; what effects these changes will produce. We must examine how far the results of our up-to-date war experiences will be influenced by these new phenomena, and we must try to find out in what directions this kind of influence is likely to assert itself. In this way alone can we succeed in ascertaining the conditions that will probably obtain in the next war, and in gaining some guiding rules for our action.

But that is just the point. It is not enough for us to discern the nature of modern war, and thus to some extent satisfy a theoretical want; we rather wish to be able to develop from this knowledge a doctrine for acting in the field — a law, as it were, of future victory.

If we survey the history of those wars, the course of which we can judge in some measure, we become aware of many instances where fighting dragged along without leading to a final and decisive issue. Neither side displays any special faculties that might turn the scale one way or the other. The result is then mostly some compromise between the belligerents which leaves matters pretty well as they were before, or the issue is brought about by the gradual wearing down of the weaker party. In other wars, on the contrary, a real issue is rapidly come to between two armies of apparently equal strength. Often it is the numerically weaker army which obtains the most decisive victory. When this happens, it is either a great Captain whose genius has turned the scale, or it is some particular circumstance which gave victory to the one party — a happy coincidence of favourable conditions; a numerical or tactical superiority; a special kind of armament; a moral superiority inherent in the character of an army; or a superior principle of acting. Where such peculiar advantages are placed in the hands of a great general who understands how to make a thorough use of them, success is, of course, all the greater. Our own Prussian history shows us repeatedly examples confirming the correctness of this view.

Under Frederic William I it was discerned that the fire of infantry was the decisive factor in action. Fire tactics were therefore brought up to an extraordinary degree of perfection. The introduction of the iron ramrod proved exceedingly advantageous to increasing the rapidity of fire. The Prussian infantry is said to have delivered ten rounds * per minute even at that

* Must be a misprint. Never known it more than five. — Translator, time. But rapidity of fire of that kind, and the precision of all movements as a sine qua non to it, were only possible with an iron discipline and a training which no other army could boast of to an equal degree of perfection. The Prussian infantry moved in rigid formations in an order which never failed even under the greatest stress, and thereby, as well as by its fire, proved superior to all its enemies.

Frederic the Great next recognized, immediately after the first battle he took part in, that fire and order alone would decide nothing if they were not accompanied by a resolute offensive. In further developing fire tactics, on the one hand by concentrating artillery at the decisive points, and, on the other, by making the power of fire everywhere subservient to the most determined offensive, he created a new factor of superiority over his adversaries, which asserted itself the more decisively, since he raised at the same time the manoeuvring power of his troops to such a height that no other hostile army could equal him therein. He further saw that cavalry was only of tactical value, under the conditions then prevailing, if it understood how to make use of the speed of the horse by a vigorous charge. By making this idea the leading principle of cavalry tactics, he made the Prussian cavalry the most victorious in the world. And, finally, in opposition to the learned strategists of his time, he saw the inexorable nature of war. Everywhere, wherever he possibly could, he tried, strategically as well as tactically, to bring matters to a most decisive issue, giving expression to this idea also in the form of his attack. Only by thus accumulating the actual factors of superiority did he succeed in fighting victoriously against a world in arms.

But the linear tactics which had developed in this lo HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR

way degenerated after Frederic's death into a system of artificialities, without any practical value. Over the mechanical art of leading troops the spirit of the principle and guiding idea was lost; strategy, too, set up the wildest systems. With this the Prussian army lost its all-conquering superiority. This became at once apparent in the wars of Frederic William 11. The soundness of the troops, it is true, enabled them to be victorious on the battlefield, but the conduct of the war on the whole was wanting the great decisive features which result only from a clear perception of war's real nature. The conduct of war lost itself more and more in conventional forms, which were bound to have an effect all the more disadvantageous as the tactics were defective too and did not meet the new demands originating from the revolutionary wars.

In this way all the factors gradually disappeared which had made the Prussian army victorious. The wars dragged along without any decisive issue until Bonaparte appeared and brought into the conduct of war a new element of superiority. By opposing brute force to the learned and conventional mode of conducting war in his time, and by aiming at the utmost attainable with the simplest means, the great Corsican became irresistible to the armies of his age, until these in turn made use of his same principles against him, and until, by means of the Prussian army, recruited from the people by universal service, a new weapon was forged which, above all, proved superior through an idealism peculiar to that army.

This acquisition it was which led humiliated Prussia to renewed victories. By retaining universal service after the war, while all other States returned to the old system of professional armies, Prussia once more acquired a powerful superiority over her rivals. This

THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR ii

superiority was enhanced by Prussia alone recognizing in time the importance of breech-loading arms and taking advantage of their greater efficiency. The result was the brilliant victories of 1866 and 1870-71. It does not seem likely that under modern conditions we shall be favoured once more by Fortune in a similar manner. All the States on the Continent of Europe have introduced universal service, and have thus formed national armies; all over the world are in use the most modern and most effective weapons; everywhere a most prolific use is made of every technical appliance; everywhere in Europe the training of the troops is most zealously attended to, and the preparedness for war perfected to the utmost. A decided superiority of one army over any other can no longer be attained under these conditions. Nor can we count upon a stroke of good fortune as we had in our last wars, where a Bismarck conducted our policy, and a Moltke our armies; just as little dare we rely on the favour of special circumstances like, perhaps, a lucky political constellation, which statecraft might take advantage of with bold resolution. It may be we have, as a counterweight against the probable numerical superiority of our likely adversaries, other advantages to throw into the scale ; above all an officers' corps, as no other army has, with an imperturbable offensive spirit and a uniformity of mind and feeling of duty which guarantee the steadfast and resolute actions of everybody. Yet these are imponderable forces, which it is impossible to look upon as fixed factors in the reckoning, and against which must be set off the national advantages of our adversaries. Who is there that will deny, for instance, the high military qualities possessed by the French, soldier, or the stubborn and often-tried power of resistance of the Russians?

If it is thus impossible for us to gain a numerical or material superiority, and if, on the other hand, we have no right to claim a moral superiority for our army as a distinct asset of power, the question is forced upon us, whether it may not be possible to gain a start on our adversaries by some other means which might vouchsafe us the possibility of victory over these stronger enemies? The answer to that question we can only gather from the experiences of the past.

If we study the campaigns of great soldiers and examine the causes of their victories, we shall find that in the first instance always moral qualities enforced victory. Superior resolution, boldness, daring, and steadfastness paralysed the energy of the enemy, and carried forward the victorious troops to the performance of extraordinary deeds.

It must, however, be well understood that it was not the superiority of the procedure by itself which insured victory; the mode of action became only superior in reference to that of the opponent and to the whole of the conditions governing war at the time. Frederic the Great won his daring offensive battles because his adversaries faced him mostly with an inactive defensive, and were unable to paralyse his bold manoeuvres by suitable counter-moves, embarrassed as they were by the rigid forms and views of warfare of their time. Napoleon gained his splendid victories over the inadequate strategy and tactics of his opponents; and the principle of envelopment of Moltke's era led to success simply because the enemy did not adopt suitable counter-measures.

These reflections show us that it is above all a question of discerning the weak points inherent in the modern military system and conduct of war. Only by recognizing this fact may we succeed in arriving at a standard of action which will ensure us a superiority on which we can rely.

He who fully sees and completely masters the difficulties arising from modern conditions in the conducf of war; he who has a clear and detailed insight into what can be done with modern war-appliances and what not, and how these must be used, therefore, to have the maximum effect; what, on the other hand, we must avoid, so as not to upset the powerful mechanism of a modern army; he who by reason of such intelligence has arrived at clear and definite principles of acting, and is perfectly aware of the decisive factors leading to success, particularly under modern conditions — he will, at the outbreak of war, obtain a distinct superiority over an adversary, who from the outset either acts on wrong principles, or tries only in war itself to arrive at that clearness which he was unable to attain by his mental work in peace-time. This kind of superiority is, however, very much enhanced if we apply the knowledge we have obtained to the preparation for war, which, in fact, is already part of the conduct of war itself. The execution of what has been recognized as the most suitable is then greatly facilitated, and to the mental superiority, which reveals itself in the method of action, a material superiority is added. That side will be superior in a way its opponent can scarcely retrieve, which, well aware of the decisive importance of the subject, has striven for, and has obtained, superiority by working for it in peace-time.

H, for instance, it should be proved that the command of the air will be the decisive factor in a future war, the army possessing the most effective aerial fleet would evidently have a decided advantage, though in other less important departments it may be inferior to its adversary.

It is, therefore, not a question of competing with our likely enemies in all the various branches without distinction, such as raising huge armies, increasing artillery and ammunition, improving heavy artillery and siege trains, extending the railway system, and employing every modern technical appliance. A competition like this would be ultimately decided by financial superiority, which we scarcely possess. We must rather exert ourselves to prepare for war in a distinct direction, and to gain superiority not in every branch, but in the one we have recognized as decisive, whilst taking a correct view of all other important branches.

Much independence of thought and determination is required of him who acts in this spirit in a responsible position and stakes success in war, so to say, on one card. All depends, then, on whether a future war has been correctly estimated. Every error in decisive questions must prove fatal. Yet it is the only possible way for obtaining an unquestionable superiority, and almost every great captain has followed it.

All the more is it necessary to see perfectly clear in these matters by studying them thoroughly. We must resolutely get rid of the influence of conventional views and opinions, extend and thoroughly sift in every department the ideas we are forming about a future war, trace to their utmost limit the consequences of all that may be new in a coming war, and then try to discover with inexorable logic the weak and the decisive factors in the whole picture thus unfolded before our eyes. If we approach this task with an unbiassed mind, keep a tight rein on our imagination, and strictly adhere to realities, the investigating mind will see unveiled the mystery of a future war; the sphinx will speak and we shall descry the law of future superiority.

If, on the other hand, we only want to learn from the experiences of former wars without working out the practical result of these experiences, if we only try to bring into line, more or less mechanically, the new phenomena of our time with the old views, we must resign all idea of mastering the situation and making the most of it to our own advantage; in that case the war of the future will continue to be something uncertain, a riddle, the solution of which is looked for and expected by the events of the future. But the task is to solve the riddle in advance. That kind of mental labour must bear rich fruit. It will best prepare victory. It must be done. ^

Chapter II Armies Of Masses Chapter II

If we review the whole of military history as far as we have access to it, we become aware of an infinite series of different forms of war; war we see constantly changing. ''War," says Clausewitz, ''is a perfect chameleon, because in each separate case it changes somewhat its nature."

But if we look closer into the military events, we perceive that in war, as in almost all other spheres of life, a certain constancy reigns supreme; that certain features constantly recur; that certain relations between mode of action and success often remain the same.

First, from its nature, the object of war is always the same, we wish, as Clausewitz has already defined it, to impose our will on that of the enemy, by either annihilating or damaging him, or warding him off; or, maybe, we want to force him to do, or to give up, what is to our advantage. Secondly, every combat is governed by the law of attack and defence. An action outside the limit of these two notions is altogether unthinkable. And, thirdly, all actions in war are influenced by the physical, mental, and moral qualities of men.

All laws and principles which can be derived directly and purely from these three factors must evidently be looked upon as permanent laws and of general application in war, which retain their decisive influence under all circumstances.

But in a certain sense the character of the theatre of war also accounts for some definite features of an invariable type.

In war on land, ground and the action of troops affect each other in many ways, always in the same manner. Defiles oblige us to decrease the front if we wish to pass them; steep gradients render upward movements difficult; eminences afford good view; ranges of hills cover from sight and direct fire ; and similar instances of general application may be cited frequently. Naval warfare, on the other hand, is enacted on a storm-swept plain, and is subject to certain immutable laws from the nature of the sea. The same applies to the air and to the combats we shall see there in the future. But whatever may be the theatre of war, there remain but the three factors — the object, the form of action, and human nature — which determine the permanent soul of war from which the immutable laws of the art of war must be deducted.

The impossibility of theoretically developing these laws in their totality must be plain to everybody. Nevertheless, principles of this kind are as necessary for the practical conduct of war as are the general laws which form its basis. All military actions are regulated by them from day to day. All tactical regulations as well as all measures of organization are due to them. To describe these convincingly and to explain them clearly is the purport of every practical doctrine of war.

The difficulty of discovering irrefutably these important principles of warfare is chiefly due to the fact that it is very hard, on the one hand, to procure all the material facts, from which these principles must be derived, and that, on the other hand, we all may look upon this material from very different points of view. And, indeed, we find that the same experiences of war are not always judged alike in the different armies, and that new phenomena in the military world are not seldom appreciated differently.

It will, therefore, never be possible to arrive at incontrovertible results in all that concerns military matters, as they are so uncertain and changing; but we must rely on the theory of probabilities. To get as near to certainty as possible by its aid will be the most we can hope to attain. Yet even then, in so far as it concerns principles derived from experience of war, we have to get over one difficulty more, and that is, we must find out whether the conditions are still the same as those under which a certain law was recognized as being a guide for us; whether we are, therefore, allowed to apply the principles resulting from that law straight to our own action in the present, or even in the future, without coming into conflict with the reality of things. The conditions continually change which determine the essential features of war, and it is not always easy to determine the amount and the kind of that change and its probable influence on the incidents of a future war.

The outward conditions determining war, we know, do not change by leaps and bounds, but do so gradually. Even the most momentous inventions and important social revolutions do not suddenly produce a change of all the factors influencing war. Thus it has taken centuries after the invention of gunpowder before the fire-fight obtained its own, and it is scarcely possible to gauge to-day the probable effect of aerial navigation on the future conduct of war ; for it is , almost always impossible to discern the full significance of new inventions and innovations. In conformity with the slow change of the ruling factors, the laws governing the mutual relationship of things, and, jointly with these laws, the periodical principles of warfare as well, change but gradually. That which in the past was fundamentally right may therefore often be so in the present, in spite of certain developments having occurred, and form as a rule a reliable guide for recognizing the future, because things will develop according to a law, and, to a certain degree, can therefore be determined in advance. An example will suffice to show how the past in this way can be made to serve the future.

At the time of Frederic the Great the armies were greatly dependent on supplies from magazines, or, at least, they thought they were. Every pressure on their own lines of communication seemed to them a great danger, every threat on those of the enemy a great success. The pressure on the enemy's lines of communication became thus one of the most important maxims of operations. Napoleon, on the other hand, supplied his armies chiefly from the resources of the theatre of war. By this he made himself almost entirely independent of supplies from depots. A pressure on his lines of communication affected him little ; tactical victory put an end to all anxiety caused by this pressure. His procedure was no doubt very advantageous so long as he was able to subsist on the country and sure of tactical victory. The moment he failed in both, as in Russia, the army perished from want of regular supplies from magazines. In the campaign of 1870-71 we used Napoleon's system in combination with supplies from depots, which answered well in opulent France. But we would grievously err should we think that this was the last word on the subject; and when Field-Marshal v. der Goltz lays it down as law that we need not mind a threat to our lines of communication, but must, by striking forward, force the enemy to abandon his threats,* the validity of such a law is very limited, and rather applicable only if we are sure of victory and can live on the country without needing the lines of communication during the time before we gain the victory. But if in future, as will be most likely the case, situations arise in which armies are really dependent on supplies from depots, the strategic importance of the lines of communication will again assert itself to an enhanced degree, and similar principles in the conduct of war will prove necessary as they — mutatis mutandis— obtained at Frederic's time.