Prelude, 1900-14
I.I. States, Armies, and Navies
1.5. War Plans
but there is no doubt that he found numerous followers both in Germany and abroad.51
Indeed, war was considered a perfectly legitimate means of international politics. True, most countries no longer actively sought territorial expansion in Europe, and apparently even the Germans were prepared to accept existing borders, provided they could dominate the continent economically;52 but still, when it came to colonial ambitions, the gloves routinely came o . And if and when shots were red, there would be little doubt about the righteousness of one’s country, since almost everywhere fervent nationalism was considered a virtue, not a sin. The self-styled peace-loving socialist countries had not yet been born, and the day when every country replaced its war ministry with a ministry of defense was still far o . Casting an interesting sidelight upon this entire matter, members of the Japanese government around the turn of the century studied what “civilized” behavior in international relations might mean.
Somewhat to their disappointment, they reached the conclusion that, among “civilized” nations, almost the only factor that mattered was armed force and the readiness to use it.53 Perhaps this had something to do with the fact that, only a few years later, Japan attacked Russia without a declaration of war. Rulers may not have necessarily been eager to slaughter one another, but once the war started they, for the most part, did so with a perfectly good conscience.
populations of Britain, France, and Russia had reached 280 million people, with combined armed forces amounting to 250 divisions. In comparison, the combined population of Germany and Austria- Hungary was 160 million, out of which they were initially able to form 140 divisions.54 Italy accounted for another 35 million people and 30 divisions.
The United States with 98 million people should easily have been able to create as many as 70 to 80 divisions, but in fact it never got anywhere near that number before hostilities ended. And of course these gures do not include the contributions of the smaller belligerents such as Bulgaria, Romania, Serbia, Montenegro, Belgium, the Ottoman Empire, and Japan. Not for nothing did contemporaries speak of this as “the Great War.”
While the various general sta s prepared their plans, the plans that have received far and away the most attention from historians were Germany’s. Though not the largest—that status was reserved for the Russians—the German army was supposed to be the strongest in the world, and all others measured themselves against it. Germany, though, su ered from one critical strategic weakness: It was located between France and Russia. Thus, for the twenty years before 1914, all of its military planning was predicated on that fact.
No great strategic genius was required to see that, to survive, Germany had to attack and defeat rst one opponent, then the other. Deciding which opponent should be attacked rst depended on many factors and was more di cult.
It was only in 1913 that Moltke nally gave that honor to France.
The reason was that its smaller size, superior administrative organization, and e cient railway system endowed France with the capability of mobilizing faster, and it was hence considered more dangerous. And since it was well known that the French high command intended to concentrate its forces on the eastern border—
the historic route by which its troops had invaded Central Europe—
the decision to attack from the north through Belgium followed almost of itself. At rst the Germans, seeking additional railway lines to transport and supply their forces, had also wanted to use the
southeastern tip of the Netherlands. Concluding that they would need that country to trade in the face of a British blockade, however, the Germans thought better of it. These momentous decisions having been made, the hardest part of all was to mesh the millions upon millions of administrative, logistical, and technical details so as to form them into a coherent whole. By 1914, that, too, had been achieved.
Acting on the belief that the war would be short, other countries also prepared o ensive strategies. Germany’s ally, Austria-Hungary, planned to open the war with an o ensive against Serbia and at the same time attempt to hold o the Russian steamroller to the northeast and keep some forces in reserve against possible Italian and Romanian moves. The Austrians also gave some thought to the possibility of mounting a combined Austrian-German o ensive against the Russian forces in what is now Poland, trapping them between the pincer jaws and destroying them. The scheme was ambitious and well conceived, but it would have to wait until the fall of France freed the German forces that, following Moltke’s plan, were to be deployed in the west. In fact, both Germany and Austria- Hungary counted on one another to keep the Russians in check.
France acted much as the German general sta had expected.
France, too, was committed to an o ensive, and in the years before 1904 its general sta considered the idea of invading Belgium and carrying out the German plan (known as the Schlie en Plan) in reverse. However, having been told by the politicians that such a move might turn Britain from a potential ally into an enemy, they ended up rejecting it. As a war with Italy began to look less and less likely from 1904 on, French commanders focused their eld of vision until they thought of little else than an attack in Alsace- Lorraine in order to take back the provinces from Germany. Putting the center of gravity of its forces in the east meant that France would not be able to resist an invasion of its northern provinces, thus playing straight into German hands.
Keenly aware of the fate that had befallen Napoleon and, before him, Charles XII, the Russian general sta in St. Petersburg were not
eager to take the strongest army in the world head-on. Had it been up to them, they would have preferred to stay on the defensive and draw their enemies into the vast, underdeveloped interior; what else was Poland, an occupied bu er state, good for? Seen from a purely military point of view, such a strategy would have made excellent sense; on the other hand, it would have meant abandoning Russia’s allies, Serbia and France, to the full weight of the Austrian- Hungarian and German onslaughts. Yielding to French diplomatic pressure, the Russians made preparations for going on the o ensive both in Galicia and in East Prussia (both of them, lying in today’s Poland), with the former taking priority.
Britain, once it decided to enter the war (which it did only at the very last moment), aimed at preventing the Germans from overrunning France and as much of Belgium as possible. However, there had been less to this seemingly nonaligned status than met the eye. For nine years before the outbreak of war, while Whitehall closed its eyes, the military engaged in semi-o cial talks with the French general sta and admiralty, examining options, and allocating responsibilities, deciding that, in case of war against Germany, Britain would take responsibility for the North Sea and channel ports whereas France would concentrate its eet in the Mediterranean where it could take care of Austria-Hungary and, if necessary, Italy. The director of military operations, General Henry Wilson, even spent his vacations touring Belgium by bicycle so as to familiarize himself with the roads his troops might take. As a result, in August 1914 British plans for transporting the expeditionary force to the channel ports and shipping it to France, where it would form the left end of the line, were ready to the last detail.
Yet not every country prepared as thoroughly as this, and several saw their mobilization e orts attended by a lesser or greater degree of chaos. The Austrian-Hungarians in particular had a hard time of it because, making their dispositions, they had to take the ethnic sympathies of their various peoples into account—not to mention that mobilization orders had to be printed in no fewer than fteen languages. So when the time came, Italian-speaking troops were
transported across the country to face the Russians. Perhaps this explains why it took Austria the best part of two weeks to launch its o ensive against Serbia, whose capital, Belgrade, was situated just across its southeastern border. As the war progressed, Austrian- Hungarian operations were characterized by confusion, and time after time its forces had to be rescued by the Germans.
Favored by newly constructed strategic railways, the Russian mobilization actually proceeded faster than most people expected.
However, the country’s industry and administrative bureaucracy proved insu cient; troops su ered from supply shortages that became steadily worse. As early as December 1914, food, clothing, and ammunition were all scarce.55 Though the British tried to help, such was the authorities’ incompetence that supplies, instead of reaching the front, piled up in the harbor at Murmansk. In dramatic contrast, the British were able to transport their expeditionary force to France with hardly a hitch. Such was the secrecy in which this was done that the Germans barely had an inkling of its presence before they clashed with it on the battle eld.
More important than these di erences, each country had prepared its plans months, often years, in advance. The key to everything was in the railways which, as already noted, constituted a rather in exible instrument. When hostilities broke out, the rulers of all countries tended to abdicate responsibility in favor of their senior military advisers.56 For example, German chancellor Bethmann- Hollweg later wrote that, throughout his term of o ce, there had not been a single occasion when “politicians” such as he intervened in the “pros and cons” of the military situation;57 nor would the Oberste Heeresleitung have permitted him to do so if he had tried.
No ruler dared delay the moment when the button would be pressed and mobilization got under way. Nor did they dare to interfere with the mobilization plans themselves, given that any attempt to do so might reverberate throughout the gigantic, complex system and throw it out of gear.
Things came to a head in a famous encounter between Wilhelm II and his army chief of sta . An ill-written telegram from the German ambassador in Paris had made the emperor believe that France might not enter the war after all, whereupon he suggested that Germany’s entire weight be turned around and thrown against Russia alone. The very idea of making the change brought Moltke to the verge of a nervous breakdown; his trust in his imperial master, he later wrote, was never restored.58 In the event, the misunderstanding was soon put out of the way as France clari ed its position. Yet, looking back, there is no question that, in insisting on greater exibility, Wilhelm was right and Moltke, wrong. A high command less committed to its strategic dogma could and should have prepared alternative plans.