XIII.1 Our Tasks
When the results of the fighting in the year 1916 could be more or less realized, we had to get some clear idea of how the war was to develop in the year 1917. We had not the slightest doubt about what our enemies would do in the coming year. We had to anticipate a general hostile offensive, as soon as their preparations and the weather permitted it. It was to be assumed that, warned by the experiences of the past year, our enemies would endeavor to coordinate their attacks on all fronts, if we left them time and opportunity to do so.
Nothing could commend itself more strongly, or be more in accordance with our desires and feelings, than to anticipate this general offensive, and in so doing blow the enemy's plans sky high and secure the initiative at the outset. I can certainly claim that with this end in view I had neglected nothing in the past campaigning year, as soon as the necessary resources, on a scale at all adequate, had been put at my disposal. Now, however, we had to be careful that this ambition did not cloud our views of the tactical situation.
There was no doubt that, at the end of 1916, the position as regards relative numbers between us and our enemies had developed even more to our disadvantage than had been the ease at the beginning of the year. Rumania had joined our enemies, and in spite of her heavy defeat remained a serious factor with which we had still to reckon. Behind the Russian lines the Rumanian Army found shelter and time for reorganization, a process for which she could rely on the cooperation of the Entente in the fullest measure.
It was a fateful thing for us that throughout the whole war our High Command never succeeded in forcing even one of our smaller opponents, with the exception of Montenegro, to desert the ranks of our enemies. In 1914 the Belgian Army had escaped from Antwerp and was now facing us, though practically inactive, and thus imposing on us a certain wastage which was not unimportant. Our experiences with the Serbian Army in 1915 had been only superficially better for us. It had avoided our enveloping movements, though its condition jvas very pitiful. In the summer of 1916 it reappeared, once more in fighting trim, in the Macedonian theater, and its units were being continually reinforced and increased from all kinds of countries, of late more particularly by Austro-Hungarian deserters of Slav nationality.
In all three cases — Belgium, Serbia and Rumania — the fate of the hostile army had hung by a thread. The reasons for their escape were no doubt various, but the effect was always the same. Faced with facts such as these, it is only too easy to ascribe a large role to luck in war. The use of such an expression degrades war from its high place to the level of a game of chance. I have never regarded it as such. In its course and in its results, even when the latter turned to our disadvantage, I have always and everywhere seen the plain consequences of pitiless logic. He who helps himself, and can help himself, secures victory, and he who fails, or is forced to fail, loses.
For the campaign of 1917 we were in considerable doubt as to whether our main danger would come from the West or the East. From the standpoint of numerical superiority only, the danger appeared greater on the Eastern Front. We had to anticipate that in the winter of 1916-17, as in previous years, Russia would succeed in making good her losses and renewing the offensive powers of her armies. No intelligence came through to us which revealed any particularly striking indications of the disintegration of the Russian Army. Besides, experience had taught me to accept reports of this kind with extreme caution, whenever and from whatever source they originated.
Faced with this Russian superiority, we could not regard the condition of the Austro-Hungarian Army without anxiety. Reports which we received did not reveal much confidence that the favorable issue of the Rumanian campaign, and the relatively favorable if still tense situation on the Italian front, had had a really uplifting and far-reaching influence on the moral of the Austro-Hungarian troops. We had further to anticipate that attacks by the Russians might once again mean the collapse of the Austrian lines. It was in any ease impossible to withdraw direct German support from the Austrian front. On the contrary, we had to be ready to send further reinforcements to our allies' front in case of emergency.
It was equally uncertain how things would shape on the Macedonian front. In the course of the last battle a German Army Group Headquarters had taken over the command of the right and center Bulgarian armies — in short, the front from Ochrida to Lake Doiran. Further, two other German commanders from the battles of 1915 and 1916 exercized authority on this front. German officers were occupied in giving the Bulgarian armies the benefit of their wealth of experience on all our fronts. The result of this work would only be revealed when fighting was resumed. For the time being, it seemed advisable not to pitch our hopes too high. In any case, we had to be ready to send help to the Macedonian front also.
On our Western Front we had to expect that in the coming spring our enemies would reappear in the arena in full strength, in spite of the heavy losses they undoubtedly had suffered in the past year. I use the expression "full strength" in the conditional sense only, for though the troops could be brought up to their old level numerically in the course of a few months, it was not the same with their quality. In this respect the enemy was subject to the same hard laws as ourselves.
The tactical situation on the most important part of this front was much as follows. In a fierce and obstinate conflict on the Somme, which lasted five months, the enemy had pressed us back to a depth of about six miles on a stretch of nearly twenty-five miles. Let these figures be kept in mind for future comparison!
This success which had been bought at the price of hundreds of thousands of lives was truly small when compared with the length of our whole front. However, the salient in our lines affected the neighboring fronts north and south. It was urgently necessary that the position should be improved, otherwise we ran a risk of being enveloped in this salient by enemy attacks there combined with secondary attacks north and south of it. An enveloping attack of our own against the enemy at the point where he had broken through was the most obvious remedy, but in view of our general situation it was almost the most doubtful. Could we venture to devote all our resources to a great attack in the Somme region, alive with enemy troops, while running the risk of a breakthrough on some other part of the Western Front or the Eastern Front? Once again it was seen that when our leaders, with great plans in mind, cast their gaze to one side, they could not close their eyes to what was going on elsewhere. In this respect the year 1916 spoke a language which made itself heard.
If an improvement in the configuration of the front bequeathed by the Somme battle could not be effected by an attack, it only remained to adopt the necessary alternative and withdraw our lines. We therefore decided to adopt that expedient, and transferred our line of defense, which had been pushed in at Péronne at one point and bulged out to west of Bapaume, Roye, and Noyon at others, to the chord position Arras—St. Quentin—Soissons. This new line is known as the Siegfried Line.
So it was a case of retreat on the Western Front instead of attack! It was a dreadful disappointment for the army in the West; worse, perhaps, for the public at home; and worst — as we had good reason to fear — for our allies. Loud rejoicings among our enemies! Could more suitable material for propaganda be imagined? The brilliant, if somewhat belated, visible result of the bloody battle, the collapse of German resistance, the impetuous unceasing pursuit, the paroxysms about our methods of warfare! We could hear all the stops being drawn out beforehand. What a hail of propagandist literature would now descend on and behind our lines!
Our great retirement began on March 16, 1917. The enemy followed us into the open, generally speaking, with considerable caution. Where this caution was inclined to give place to greater haste our rearguards knew how to cool down the enemy zeal.
The measure we took not only gave us more favorable local conditions on the Western Front, but improved our whole situation. The shortening of our lines in the West made it possible for us to build up strong reserves. We were attracted by the idea of throwing at least a part of those reserves upon the enemy at the very moment when he was following our retreat to the Siegfried position across the open country, where we felt ourselves absolutely superior to him. However, we renounced the idea and kept our powder dry for the future.
The situation which we created for ourselves by the spring of 1917 may perhaps be described as a great strategic "stand to," a stage in which we abandoned the initiative to the enemy for the time being, but from which we could emerge at any time to attack any of the enemy's weak points. In view of the enormously increased scale of everything, historical comparisons cannot be drawn from earlier wars.
In connection with these dispositions I must mention two plans to which we had to devote our attention in the winter of 1916-17. These were proposals for attacks in Italy and Macedonia. In the former case the initiative was taken by General Conrad von Hötzendorf during that winter. He promised himself a far-reaching effect on our entire military and political situation as a result of a great victory over Italy. I could not share that view. As I have already said, I was always of opinion that Italy was far too much under the heel of England, economically and therefore politically, for that country to be forced to make a separate peace, even after a great defeat. What General Conrad mainly had in mind in his proposal was the favorable effect of a successful campaign against Italy on public opinion in Austria-Hungary. He relied on the great relief of the military strain which such a victory would mean for Austria-Hungary. I could readily enough admit the justice of these points of view. Without strong German help — it was a matter of about twelve German divisions — General Conrad considered he could never again undertake an attack on the Italians from the Southern Tyrol. On the other hand, I did not think I could take the responsibility of allowing so many German troops to be locked up for an unlimited time in an enterprise which, in my opinion, lay too far from our Eastern and Western fronts, which were the most important and the most imperilled.
The same considerations applied to the question of an attack on the Entente troops in Macedonia. Bulgaria was toying with this plan, and very naturally from her own point of view, for if we had won a decisive victory it would have compelled the Entente to evacuate this region. By that means Bulgaria would have been practically completely relieved, in a political as well as a military sense. Further, the enterprise was dear to the heart of the nation and its government, for the Bulgarians were always casting greedy eyes at the fine harbor of Salonica which had been so great a bone of contention. I admit that this last point of view had no weight with me, and in my opinion at that time the military relief of Bulgaria would have been of no advantage to our general situation. If we had compelled the Entente forces to withdraw from Macedonia we should have had them on our necks again on the Western Front. I always regarded it as at least doubtful whether we should have been allowed to employ the Bulgarian troops thus released outside the Balkans. The employment of Bulgarian divisions during the Rumanian campaign north of the Danube, outside the areas in which Bulgaria was directly interested, had previously led to unpleasant friction with these units. I therefore considered that the Bulgarian forces were rendering the greatest service to our joint operations when they were occupied in holding down the Entente armies in Macedonia. Of course this did not mean that I would not have warmly welcomed an independent Bulgarian offensive in Macedonia at any time. In that case its objective would have had to be very much more modest than the expulsion of the Entente from the Balkans or the capture of Salonica. But the Bulgarians considered that they could not embark on an offensive operation without substantial German help — at least six divisions — and in that they were no doubt right.
At the time in which the question of an offensive in Macedonia was being mooted — that is the winter of 1916-17 — news of the development of the political situation in Greece sounded like an enticing siren's song. However, I was absolutely deaf to the siren voices. I very much doubted whether the Hellenic people were very enthusiastic for war, particularly a war in which they would find themselves shoulder to shoulder with the Bulgarians. Generally speaking, there would have been a recurrence of the events of 1913, and the two victorious partners, after their common victory, would have once more taken each other prosaically by the hair instead of poetically by the arm.
From all I have said it must be perfectly clear that the strain on the German armies was so great, as a result of the general situation, that we could not allow it to be increased by further undertakings except such as were imperatively required for military and political reasons. Even the most splendid plans, which might offer certain prospects of great military victories, could not be allowed to turn us aside from our most important and immediate military task. This task was the fighting in the East and West, and indeed on both fronts, against overwhelming enemy superiority.
When I think of the later consequences of my attitude of objection to operations in Italy and Macedonia, and ask myself whether I should, and could, have decided otherwise, I am compelled to answer that question even now in the negative. I think I can claim that the subsequent course of events in Central Europe has proved that we acted for the best. We dare not, and could not, run the risk of a collapse of our Western or Eastern front in the hope of winning cheap laurels in the plains of Northern Italy or on the Vardar.
Turkey could be given no special instructions for 1917. Her task was to defend her territorial possessions and keep the armies facing her away from us. If she succeeded in accomplishing this she would be doing all that was required of her within the framework of our combined operations.
With a view to preserving the efficiency of the troops thus employed, in the autumn of 1916 we had suggested to the Turkish General Staff that they should withdraw the bulk of their two Caucasus armies from the sparsely populated and barren Armenian plateau with a view to making it easier for the troops to get through the winter. The necessary orders were issued too late, and as a result large numbers of troops were killed off by hunger and cold, as we had foreseen. It is possible that no epic, no book of heroes, will ever tell their tragic end. So let my modest record be their epitaph.
XIII.2 The U-boat Warfare
Think of seventy million human beings living in semi-starvation, thousands of them slowly succumbing to its effects! Think of all the babes in arms who perished because their mothers starved! Think of all the children who were left sick and weakly for life! And this was not in distant India or China, where a stony-hearted, pitiless nature had refused her blessed rain, but here, in the very center of Europe, the home of culture and humanity! A semi-starvation which was the work of the decrees and power of men who were wont to glory in their civilization! Where is the civilization in that? Do these men stand any higher than those others who shocked the whole civilized world by their savagery against non-combatants in the highlands of Armenia and there came to a miserable end in thousands as a punishment of fate? No other voice than that of vengeance, certainly not that of pity, has ever spoken to the rough Anatolian peasant.
What was the object of these decrees of the champions of "civilization"? Their plan was clear. They had seen that their military power would never enable them to realize their tyrannical ambitions, that their methods of warfare were useless against their adversary with his nerves of steel. They would therefore destroy those nerves. If it could not be done in battle, man to man, it might be done from behind, by finding a way through the homeland. They would let the wives and children starve! "With God's help," that would have its effect on the husbands and fathers at the front, perhaps not at once, but certainly by degrees! Perhaps it would compel those husbands and fathers to throw down their arms, for otherwise the menace of death would hover over their wives and children; the death — of civilization. There were men who reasoned thus, and indeed prayed thus.
"Our enemies are hurling American shells at us. Why do we not sink the ships in which they come? Have we not the means to do so? A question of right? Where and when has our enemy ever thought about right?"
With these and similar words on their lips, the nation and the army had turned to their leaders, not for the first time on August 29th, 1916, but long before. The desire to employ the U-boat weapon in full force with a view to a speedy delivery of our homeland from its sufferings and the relief of the army in the terrible contest, was in existence before I took over the conduct of operations. In this pitiless battle against our non-combatants at home, it was a question of an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. Everything else seemed callousness towards our own flesh and blood.
But though we had the weapon and the will to use it, we must not lose sight of the consequences which might flow from the ruthless employment of this destructive instrument. If we need not have any regard for the stony-hearted enemy, we must have regard for the interests of maritime nations which had hitherto remained neutral. As a result of the employment of this weapon, the nation must not be faced with greater dangers and anxieties than those from which we proposed to deliver it. There was thus a considerable amount of hesitation, a hesitation comprehensible enough, to which ordinary human feelings also contributed.
Such was the situation when I appeared at Main Headquarters. To all the serious crises on land was now added a troublesome and fateful problem at sea. At first sight the decision of this question was the province of the civil government and the naval staff. Yet the General Staff was also seriously concerned. It was perfectly obvious that on purely military grounds we should desire the commencement of the U-boat campaign. The advantages which it would bring to our operations on land was plain to every eye. It would have been an immense relief to us if the enemy's manufacture of war material, or its transport over sea, could be materially hampered. It would be equally valuable if we succeeded at any rate in partially paralyzing their overseas operations. What an immense relief that would mean not only to Bulgaria and Turkey, but to ourselves! And it would not have cost us a drop of German blood! Further, there would be a chance of restricting the imports of raw material and food into the Entente countries to an intolerable degree, and placing England, if not her allies, before the fateful alternative either of holding out the hand of reconciliation to us or losing her place in world trade. The U-boat campaign seemed likely to have a decisive effect on the course of the war; indeed, at the beginning of 1917 it appeared to be the only means we could employ to secure a victorious conclusion to the war if we were compelled to fight on.
The connection between the U-boat campaign and the whole military and political situation appears from a memorandum which we addressed to the government at the end of September 1916. This memorandum was to serve as the basis for instructions to our ambassador in Washington. It ran as follows:
"Count Bernstorff should be told, for his personal information, that the intention of the Entente to break through on the Eastern and Western fronts has hitherto miscarried, and will miscarry in the future, as will their operations from Salonica and the Dobrudja. On the other hand, the campaign of the Central Powers against Rumania is making victorious progress. However, it is still doubtful whether we shall achieve successes this year which will end the war. We must therefore reckon that the war will continue for a considerable time longer.
On the other hand, in view of England's economic situation, the Imperial Admiralty promises us that by the ruthless employment of an increased number of U-boats we shall obtain a speedy victory, which will compel our principal enemy, England, to turn to thoughts of peace in a few months. For that reason, the German General Staff is bound to adopt unrestricted U-boat warfare as one of its war measures, because among other things it will relieve the situation on the Somme front by diminishing the imports of munitions and bring the futility of the Entente's efforts at this point plainly before their eyes. Finally, we could not remain idle spectators while England, realizing all the difficulties with which she has to contend, makes the fullest possible use of neutral powers in order to improve her military and economic situation to our disadvantage. For all these reasons we must recover the freedom of action which we reserved in the Note of May 4.
Of course the situation would be completely altered if President Wilson, in pursuance of the intention he has indicated, presents a proposal of mediation to the powers. Such a proposal must, in any case, be without definite suggestions of a territorial nature, since questions of that kind must be one of the objects of the peace negotiations. Any action of this kind must be taken soon. If Wilson wished to wait until after his election, or even shortly before it, he would find that the moment for such a step had practically gone. Nor must the negotiations aim primarily at the conclusion of an armistice. They must be conducted mainly by the contending parties and lead directly to a preliminary peace within a short time. Any considerable delay would make Germany's military position worse, and mean that the Powers would make further preparations to continue the war next year, so that there would be an end to the idea of peace for a long time to come.
Count Bernstorff should discuss the affair with Colonel House — the intermediary between himself and the President — and ascertain the intentions of Mr. Wilson. Any action of the President in the direction of peace, which had better seem spontaneous on his part, would receive our very serious consideration, and this in itself would mean a victory for Wilson in his election campaign."
The most difficult question was and remained: "Within what time would U-boat warfare produce decisive results?" On this question the Naval Staff could, of course, make no definite promises. But even what they alleged was an estimate based on the most conservative calculations was so favorable to us, that I considered that we were entitled to face the risk of finding that we had brought another adversary into the field as the result of employing the new weapon.
But even though the navy was very insistent, political and military considerations demanded that the commencement of the unrestricted U-boat campaign should be postponed over the autumn of 1916. In the critical military situation in which we found ourselves at that time we dared not bring a new opponent into the field. In any case, we had to wait until the Rumanian campaign had ended victoriously. If it did so, we should find ourselves strong enough to prevent any neutral states on our frontiers from joining the ranks of our enemies, to whatever extent England might intensify her economic pressure upon them.
To considerations of a political nature were added others of a military nature. We did not wish to resort to the intensified use of the U-boat weapon until our peace step had proved a complete failure.
When this peace measure collapsed, however, military considerations alone had any weight with me. The development of the military situation, especially in Rumania, in my opinion now permitted the most drastic use of this very effective weapon.
On January 9, 1917, our All-Highest War-Lord decided in favor of the proposals of the naval and general staffs and against the Imperial Chancellor, von Bethmann. Not one of us was in doubt about the seriousness of the step.
In any case, the adoption of unrestricted U-boat warfare, with its alluring prospects, increased the moral resolution of both the army and nation to continue the war on land for a long time to come.
In view of the fateful conclusion of the war, it has been suggested that the declaration of the unrestricted U-boat campaign was a last desperate throw. That judgement is intended to be a condemnation of our decision on political, military, and even ethical grounds. It ignores the fact that practically all critical decisions, certainly not military decisions only, always involve a heavy risk. Indeed, the greatness of an action is mainly to be appreciated and measured by the question whether much was at stake. When a commander on the battlefield throws in his last reserves he is only doing what his country rightly demands of him. He accepts full responsibility and finds the courage to take the last decisive step without which victory cannot be won. A commander who cannot or will not dare to stake his last resources for the sake of victory is committing a crime towards his own people. If his blow fails, he is certain to have the curses and scorn of the weaklings and cowards upon his head! That is always the fate of soldiers. To act only on absolutely safe calculations, or win laurels which are not dependent on the courage to take responsibility, is to banish the very elements of greatness. The whole object of our German military training was to breed that courage. We need only point to the outstanding examples in our own history, as well as the greatest achievements of our most dangerous enemies. Could there be a better example of the bold employment of the last resources than when the Great King staked everything at Leuthen and thereby saved his country and its future? Have we not approved Napoleon's decision to send in his latst battalions at Waterloo, even though, as Clausewitz says, he then slunk from the battlefield as poor as a beggar? If the Corsican had not had a Blücher against him he would have won, and world history would certainly have taken another course. On the other side, take our much-belauded "Marshal Vorwärts." Did he not stake everything in that decisive conflict? Let us hear what one of our most violent opponents had to say on this subject before the war: "The finest manoeuvre which I have ever known is the action of old Blücher, who, thrown to the ground and lying under the feet of the horses, sprang up, turned furiously on his beaten men, stopped their flight and led them from the defeat of Ligny to the triumph of Waterloo."
I cannot close this section without questioning the view that has been put forward that with the entry of America into the ranks of our enemies our cause was finally lost. But let us first take a glance at the predicament in which we put our enemies both by our U-boat operations and, at times, by our great successes on land in the spring of 1917. We shall then be in a position to realize that we were several times within an ace of wearing the victor's laurels ourselves, and will perhaps appreciate that other than military reasons are responsible for the fact that the war did not end victoriously, or at least tolerably, for us.
XIII.3 Kreuznach
After the victorious conclusion of the Rumanian campaign and the relief it brought to our situation in the East, the center of gravity of our next operations must be sought in the West. In any case it was here that we must anticipate an early commencement of the fighting in the next campaigning year. We wanted to be close to the battlefield. If we established our headquarters in the West it would be easier and take less time to get into direct personal touch with the headquarters of the army groups and armies. A further reason was that the Emperor Charles wished to be near the political authorities of his country, and was, moreover, unwilling to dispense with direct personal intercourse with his Commander-in-Chief. Accordingly, in the early months of 1917 the Headquarters of the Austro-Hungarian army was transferred to Baden near Vienna. The result was that there was no longer any reason why His Majesty our Emperor and Main Headquarters should remain at Pless. In February we moved our Headquarters to Kreuznach.
On leaving Pless I considered it a special duty to thank the prince and his officials for the great hospitality they had shown us in housing all our officers, as well as in private life. Moreover, I myself had particularly grateful memories of plenty of splendid hunting over the estates of Pless and its neighbour Neudeck, on the few free evenings we had.
The district in which we now settled was associated in my mind with memories of my previous activities as Chief of Staff in the Rhine Province. I had made the acquaintance of the town of Kreuznach itself at that time. Its inhabitants now vied with one another in giving us proofs of quiet hospitality. Among other ways this hospitality was shown in the fact that our quarters and common dining room were decorated with fresh-cut flowers every day by young ladies.
I accepted all this as an act of homage to the whole army, of which I was one of the oldest representatives in the war. Shortly after our departure from Pless, General Conrad left the Austro-Hungarian Headquarters to take over the command on the South Tyrolese front. I have never known the cause of his transfer. I gather it was due to personal reasons, as there were no professional reasons so far as I knew. I have loyal and brotherly memories of him. His successor was General von Arz. He had a practical head and sound views, was a splendid soldier and therefore as valuable a colleague as his predecessor. He always got to the root of things and despised appearances. I believe that he shared my aversion to intervention in political questions. In my opinion General von Arz displayed admirable perseverance and did everything that could be done, in view of the difficult internal situation of the Danube Monarchy to which I have previously referred. He never had any doubt about the magnitude of his task. He deserves all the more gratitude for having faced it with such manly confidence.
At the beginning of October my stay in Kreuznach brought me the celebration of my seventieth birthday.
His Majesty my Emperor, King and master, was gracious enough to be the first to give me his personal congratulations at my house. To me this was the very consecration of the day! Then the youth of Kreuznach greeted me in the bright autumn sunshine as I went to the office. My colleagues awaited me before the doors of our common workroom, and in the adjacent garden were representatives of the town and its neighborhood, recruits, sick and wounded, convalescing at the various establishments of this health resort, and finally veterans who had fought with me in days long past. The end of the day brought a little military interlude. For some reason I have never been able to fathom, it was rumoured that a great enemy bombing attack on our Headquarters would probably take place this day. It is possible, too, that, as so often happened, some enemy aeroplane was this evening finding its way from the Saar to the Rhine or vice versa. It was hardly surprising that imagination was rather more vivid than usual, and that at night more was seen and heard between the earth and the shining moon than was actually there. But however that may be, about midnight our anti-aircraft defenses opened a mighty barrage. Thanks to the high rate of fire, the available ammunition supplies were speedily exhausted, so that I could sleep in peace with the thought that I should be disturbed no more. When I reported next day my All-Highest War Lord showed me a large vase filled with fragments of German shells which had been collected in the garden of his quarters. We had thus been running risks that night after all!
For the rest, some of the Kreuznach folk had taken the nocturnal shooting for a final military salute in honor of my birthday.