Front matter (continued 2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V THE ARMY IN THE FUTURE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VI STILL READY FOR WAR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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