ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE
Monday, September 14th. The equipment of the German soldier is in every detail a marvel of perfection. This impresses me more than any other single element of the war excepting only the bravery of the French, and the imperturbable sang froid of the English. A striking example of this perfection is the spiked helmet. Contrary to appearance, it is not heavy, weighing indeed scarcely more than a derby hat. Everyone who picks one up for the first time exclaims in astonishment, “How light it is!” These helmets are made of lacquered leather, are nearly indestructible, shed water perfectly, and give excellent ventilation to the head by means of a clever arrangement of holes under the flange of the spike. They also shield the eyes and the back of the head from the sun, and are strong enough to break a heavy blow.
The German uniforms are of a light gray with a slight green tinge, and are virtually invisible against the greenish mist-gray fields of Europe, excepting only when the sun is behind to project a deep shadow.
The German bayonet is a formidable weapon with a heavy double-edged blade twenty inches long. Both edges are extremely sharp. I easily sharpened pencils with one which I picked up.
The German knapsacks are made of cowhide with the hair left on, the grain of the hair pointing downward to shed rain. The hair may get wet, but the leather seldom and the contents never.
The German military boot comes half-way up the calf of the leg and the trouser is tucked into its top. They are without laces and pull on to the foot like the American “rubber boot.” They are made of heavy, undyed leather, singularly soft and pliable, and thoroughly waterproof. The soles are shod with hobnails, but the boot is not very heavy. We often noted dead Germans who were bootless, their footgear having been appropriated by some victorious Frenchman, who had left near-by his own less desirable shoes.
The three-compartment wicker shell-containers in which field-gun shells are carried from caisson to gun are as carefully and neatly made as an expensive tea-basket. We saw thousands of them lying about the battlefields and carefully examined scores, sliding shells in and out of them as a test. Invariably we found that the shells went in and out smoothly and without effort, and yet always fitted snugly. There was never either the slightest friction or the least loose-play. This nicety meant that the variation in an interior diameter of three inches was certainly less than one thirty-second of an inch. Wicker-work constructed with such unvarying accuracy is truly marvelous.
Paris, Tuesday, September 15th. Back in Paris, we are trying to piece bits of evidence together into a clear picture and to draw sound conclusions from what we have seen. We do not yet know what the battle which we have studied will be named, but we ourselves call it the Battle of Fère Champenoise. This is, however, an unsatisfactory title, as it is too cumbersome and not comprehensive enough, for Fère Champenoise was only the most intense and critical point in a series of actions extending from Chantilly to Verdun, over a varied and winding front of about one hundred and ninety miles. We have no means of knowing how far the Germans have been driven back, but they are across the Aisne and other Attachés tell us that frightful fighting is going on at Soissons where the pursuing Allies are attempting to throw large forces across the river. On our way home yesterday, moreover, we ourselves heard much shooting in the direction of Rheims.
“THE WOODS WERE ... DOTTED WITH THE BODIES OF THE DEAD”
My personal conclusions about the battle are based upon a thousand bits of information carefully pieced together into a mosaic. First of all we ourselves examined the territory included between the Marne, the Seine, and a line from Méry-sur-Seine through Arcis to Vitry-le-François, and made certain digressions across the Marne to the northeast of Paris. We examined the battlefields while they were comparatively fresh, and supplemented our observations by innumerable conversations with the French troops and civilians, and with German prisoners. At the Embassy we obtained from other Attachés many bits of reliable information about the fighting directly north of Paris and about the rearguard actions between the Marne and the Aisne.
Up to the time of this battle the German plan of campaign had worked out almost perfectly. The Franco-German border is due east of Paris, and the French mobilization took place there behind the fortresses of Verdun, Toul, Epinal, and Belfort.
The Belgian frontier is north of Paris and the unexpected and treacherous advance of the German armies through that neutral country brought them immediately behind the French line of mobilization. The violation of Belgium permitted the Germans to advance into France before the Allies could reorganize into an effective resistance against this unexpected attack. It is to be remembered that a mobilization which it has taken years to plan out and which involves millions of men and their equipment cannot be changed at a moment’s notice. Had the Germans attacked across the Franco-German border, they would have found the French army awaiting them behind the fortresses of Verdun, Toul, and Epinal, and it is almost certain that they would never have arrived within two hundred marching miles of Paris. No one knew this better than the German General Staff.
Had it not been for the unexpected and heroic resistance of Belgium, and the masterly retreat of the small British army, Germany’s foul blow might have resulted in the capture of Paris toward the end of August. These two things, combined with a desperate retarding action executed along the Aisne by several French corps, delayed the Germans long enough to enable General Joffre to organize and fight a single battle upon which everything was staked. To lose it would have meant utter ruin, for France has faced no such crisis since Charles Martel repelled the Saracens at Tours in 732. To win would mean that the Teutons’ blow-below-the-belt had been survived and that a recommencement of the war upon something like even terms would be possible.
In preparing for the battle the French placed powerful forces in the great fortress of Verdun, and also in and around the entrenched camp of Paris. Their field army extended between the two from Paris through La Ferté, Esternay, Sézanne, and Sommesous to Vitry-le-François, and from thence bent northeastward to Verdun. Thus their two flanks were strong and menacing and their center, about one hundred and eighty miles in length, bent southward and was slightly concave.
It is evident that in this battle the Germans could gain nothing by making their main attack against Paris or Verdun, but that if they could rout the field army between the two, they might as an aftermath sweep round behind each city and attack it from all sides, using for the purpose the heavy artillery which had under similar circumstances and with such celerity battered down Liège, Namur, Longwy, and Maubeuge. Therefore, the logical thing was for the Germans to attempt to break the French center. This operation was somewhat hazardous as there was danger that the French might launch a powerful flank attack from either Verdun or Paris. To attack the center was, in effect, something like thrusting a dagger into a lion’s mouth in the effort to cut his throat. It was necessary to hold back the jaws Verdun and Paris, whilst attacking the vulnerable throat at Fère Champenoise.
To accomplish this, Verdun was kept so busy by violent attacks made upon three sides that its army had no time to think of any offensive movement. The German defense against the French right thus in reality took the form of an active attack, a feasible method because Verdun is near the Franco-German frontier, being in fact less than forty miles from the German fortress and mobilization center of Metz.
To protect their right from any flank attacks which might be hurled against it from Paris, the Germans placed a strong army under von Kluck in front of that city to hold the French left in check, as a boxer in a clinch holds back his opponent’s left arm. Von Kluck fought his way to a position approximately defined by a line through Creil, Senlis, Nanteuil-le-Haudouin, and Lizy-sur-Ourg. His cavalry advanced even to Chantilly and Crécy. His army was not intended to have any part in the main German offensive, its sole duty being to protect the German right from any attack in flank which might be prepared and launched from the entrenched camp of Paris. Von Kluck was not to attack Paris, but to protect the Germans from Paris, and this he successfully did.
No greater mistake can be made than to suppose that the German retreat to Soissons and Rheims was precipitated by any victory over von Kluck. A violent and heavy attack was, it is true, launched against him on or about the evening of September 6th and was steadily maintained from that time forward. At first he was pushed back for a number of miles by the violence of this assault, but his counter attacks soon regained most of the ground lost. Thus he advanced on the 5th, was pushed back a little on the 7th, but advanced again on the 8th, driving the Allies before him. On the 9th his left flank was threatened by the British and he again retreated a little to consolidate his position. While so doing he received news that the German army assigned to carry out the main offensive in the neighborhood of Fère Champenoise had been repulsed and was already beginning the retreat which later at many points turned into a rout, and he then continued his own retreat until he reached the Aisne.
Von Kluck advanced or retreated short distances as the fortunes of the battle varied, but on the whole successfully maintained his ground and only retreated for good when the Germans’ principal attack had thus been defeated at another and distant point. After the 6th he was at all times heavily engaged and his losses and those of his opponents were excessively heavy.
Since the battle of the Marne there has been an almost universal tendency to declare that von Kluck was defeated and that Paris was thereby saved. This verdict, though erroneous, is easily explained. Von Kluck was nearest Paris, “everyone” was in Paris, and in an action extending over hundreds of miles “everyone” saw only what was nearest to him and drew his conclusions from that alone. The losses in von Kluck’s army and in the armies opposed to it were so heavy that it is small wonder people concluded that they waged the main battle. In truth, these losses were probably heavier than those of any previous battle since ancient times. I wish to emphasize again that von Kluck did not attack Paris and had no intention of so doing, but that Paris attacked him and that he held this attack in check until it was no longer necessary to do so, since the German strategy had failed at other points.
Let us now consider the main German offensive and its repulse. The French center had taken a position on a plateau of rolling hills in many places covered with pine forests, while several large swamps lay in front of them. This country was for several weeks defended by Napoleon in his despairing campaign of 1814. He had appreciated its strategic value and somewhat developed its defensive possibilities. In recent years the French had often held manœuvres in this area and had a permanent manœuvre camp at Mailly, which was actually within the battlefield of Fère Champenoise.
The German troops which were to make the great offensive movement against the French center crossed the Marne in the section from Epernay to Chalons without serious opposition. Their main attack was launched against the Ninth Army of the French under General Foch along a front of about fifteen miles, and probably close to a quarter of a million Teutons were engaged. We saw dead Germans belonging to the 10th, 12th, 19th, 10th Reserve, and a Guard Corps.
The first contact took place at Fère Champenoise at three o’clock on the morning of the 8th, when heavy forces advancing through the night along the roads from Vertus and Chalons fell upon the French who were encamped in the town and drove them out. The Germans continued victorious throughout the day of the 8th, driving the stubbornly resisting French back from the line through Sommesous, Fère Champenoise, and Sézanne until, when the battle lulled late at night after eighteen hours of combat, the French held a line through the villages of Mailly, Gourgançon, Corroy, and Linthelles.
The fighting was very fierce, and terrible losses were sustained by both sides as the possession of every foot of territory was hotly contested. The French showed steadiness, determination, and efficiency under the most trying conditions and under the most violent and overwhelming attacks. We saw few signs or indications of any disorder or weakness on their part. The Germans experienced particularly heavy losses in driving the French from positions near the villages of Oeuvy and Montépreux, while the French suffered most heavily in the neighborhoods of Gourgançon and Corroy. Very little entrenching was done by either side, as both armies were constantly shifting, and the few trenches which were constructed had evidently been hurriedly built at night.
On the 9th the Germans began the day with further successes and apparently had forced a marked French retreat. At noon they considered the battle as good as won. They had, however, apparently had no time to entrench or to consolidate their forces, when, early in the afternoon, General Foch suddenly ordered an attack by all his forces. For six weeks the French had labored through a losing campaign and had just fought through thirty-six hours of steady defeat, and yet they turned about on the instant and attacked the astonished Germans with a dash which could not have been surpassed by the troops of the First Empire at the height of a victory. They would not be denied, but attacked and attacked until the Germans were overwhelmed. We saw fields where charging battalions had apparently been put out of action up to the last man without deterring that last man from advancing. By evening the French had retaken all the ground which they had lost in the previous thirty-six hours, and on the morning of the 10th their offensive was resumed with unabated fury and unfaltering self-sacrifice. No number of casualties could stop them and in places the retreat of the Germans became a rout. They left their wounded upon the battlefields and abandoned their hospitals, caissons, and supplies. Especially furious rearguard actions were fought in the neighborhood of Pierre-Morains and Coizard and at Mondemont.
On the night of the 10th the German army pulled itself together, and on the 11th, under the protection of magnificently executed rearguard actions which held up the determined pursuit of the French, retreated in good order to the Marne and across it. On the 12th they reached the Aisne and have since been endeavoring to make a stand on the farther side of Rheims.
The most conservative French officers with whom we talked estimated that the total casualties of both sides in the fighting near Fère Champenoise amounted to at least one hundred and fifty thousand. Some thought it was as high as two hundred thousand, and I am inclined to this latter figure. Perhaps we saw the field in its entirety more thoroughly than did they. Certainly they were busy with many other affairs, whereas we had nothing other to do than study and estimate.
Had the German attack succeeded in breaking the French center, the French army would have been cut in two and both remnants would have been compelled to retreat in order to save themselves from ruinous flank attacks. In retreating they would have been obliged to leave Verdun and Paris each to take care of itself, and the German armies could have swung about to surround and lay siege to either or both of them.
As far as we could observe, the German attack at Fère Champenoise had been unsupported by any heavy artillery. This was probably a contributing cause of their defeat, as was also their arrogant over-confidence in themselves and their under-estimation of their enemy. The French won the battle because their field artillery was superior and because, man for man, they outfought the Germans. Having staked the fate of their families and of their beloved patrie upon a single throw, the French gained one of the most desperate battles in the world’s history by the coolness and dogged determination of their chiefs and by the sublime tenacity and self-sacrifice of their soldiers. These outdid the best traditions of their race. At command they threw their lives away as a man throws away a trifle, and to meet new conditions they developed new qualities with which they have not previously been credited, qualities of stubborn scientific stolidity. They out-Germaned the Germans in the way their organization withstood the shock and wrack of battle. It was the German machine which broke down first. On that field a new France was born. Let no German ever again say that she is effete. It was purely a French victory. This is no aspersion upon the Belgians and the British; the slight part which they played in this battle is explained by their small numbers. At Liège and Namur, at Mons and St. Quentin they helped win for France a fighting chance behind the Marne. All hail to them for that!
During our trip we found no evidence of German acts deserving to be called “atrocities.” The word “atrocity” has been so carelessly used that it will be useful to re-define what that word means in relation to war. It should be limited to instances where unnecessary violence is used toward the enemy’s soldiers and civilians. It has a meaning distinct from the inevitable destruction and vandalism which seem to be necessary integral parts of all wars. The burning and destroying of buildings by shell-fire or for reasons of military expediency and the confiscation of food supplies for military purposes are allowed by all rules of war. The use of the word “atrocity” should be limited to such acts as the killing of prisoners, the mutilation of civilians, and the violation of women. Of such deeds we personally found no instance, although we carefully cross-questioned the inhabitants of many towns which had been occupied by Germans.
Food and wine had been pretty generally confiscated, a thing to be expected; also we found several instances of pillaging in which especially desirable articles had been carried off. Wanton breakage was rare and not extensive, and in most cases appeared to have been more mischievous than malicious. It was probably due to a somewhat too liberal use of pillaged wine. In general, the worst charges against the Germans in France were that they had been exceedingly rude and boorish. There were, however, some instances which came to my notice where German officers had shown consideration for the civilians, had politely apologized for their unwelcome but “necessary” intrusion into French families, and had carefully paid for their board and lodging. We talked with several French surgeons who were captured early in the war and had since, according to The Hague rules, been returned to France. These all acknowledged the consideration and good care which their captured wounded had received from the Germans.
When the Germans were retreating northward towards Rheims after their defeat in the Battle of the Marne, notices (about twenty by thirty inches) printed on green paper were posted in the streets of the city, of which the following is a literal translation:
“PROCLAMATION.
“In case a combat should take place today or in the immediate future in the environs of Rheims or within the city itself, the inhabitants are forewarned that they must remain absolutely inactive and must not attempt in any way to take part in the battle. They must not attempt to attack either isolated German soldiers or detachments of the German army. It is hereby officially forbidden to construct barricades, or to tear up the streets in such a manner as to hamper the movements of our troops. In a word, it is forbidden to undertake any act whatsoever which might be in any manner a hindrance to the German army.
“In order thoroughly to insure the security of the German troops and to act as sureties for the inactivity of the population of Rheims, the personages named below have been seized as hostages by the General commanding the German army. At the least sign of disorder these hostages will be hanged. Also the city will be entirely or partly burned and its inhabitants hanged if any infractions whatsoever of the above orders are committed.
“On the other hand, if the city remains absolutely quiet, the hostages and inhabitants will be protected by the German army.
“By order of the German Authorities,
“The Mayor, Dr. Laught.
“Rheims, September 12, 1914.”
Below was appended a list of names and addresses of ninety-one leading citizens, officials, and ecclesiastics, and, as if that were not enough, this list was finished by the words “and others.”
Paris, Thursday, September 17th. During my absence at the Battle of the Marne last week, the powers-that-be at the Embassy decided that I was too much needed in Paris for the German-Austrian affairs to be allowed to go to the front again. Therefore, when another expedition departed today, I was not permitted to be one of the party.
THE CHÂTEAU OF MONDEMONT
On our trip I took rough field notes during the daytime and sat up at night into the early morning hours in order to expand these jottings into an accurate and comprehensive diary. I am now arranging this material into a report to be forwarded to Washington.
The whole “deuxième étage” of the Chancellerie is now given over to the Austrian, German, and Hungarian affairs. The arrangement of rooms is the same as in the American Chancellerie on the floor below. Mr. Percival Dodge, ex-first-assistant Secretary of State, is now head of the department and occupies the room over Ambassador Herrick. I have the room over the First Secretary, and Mr. Hazeltine the room over the Second Secretary. Lieutenant Donait is to be chief of the office staff, which consists of three stenographers and two messengers. We have, in addition, three personal stenographers. This arrangement will be a great improvement, as our rooms on the ground floor were much too cramped for the volume of business.
Monday, September 21st. The immense amount of effective work accomplished under Mr. Herrick would have been impossible had he not been so ably supported by the two Secretaries of the Embassy, Mr. Bliss and Mr. Frazier, past-masters of the intricate technique of their profession. In the emergency of the war crisis the usefulness of the numerous subordinate members of the Embassy staff absolutely depended upon the skill and patience with which these two Secretaries trained them for the work of the various departments to which they were assigned, and prevented any divergence from correct diplomatic methods. It is most fortunate that our foolish American habit of replacing Ambassadors whenever some one else has a stronger political “pull” does not extend to our first and second secretaries.
Five of the younger men of the Embassy have formed a little luncheon club for the purpose of exchanging news and discussing and studying the military situation. They are Lieut. Boyd of the Cavalry, Lieut. Hunnicutt of the Artillery, Harry Dodge, the Ambassador’s private Secretary, Lieut. Donait of the Infantry and Ordnance Departments, and myself. We meet each noon at a little pension near the Embassy and there we argue and debate for an hour or more. These daily conferences give us a much better comprehension of the war as a whole and a more exact knowledge of its important details. We have all been more or less at the front and usually some one of us has just returned with first-hand data as to what is going on at the moment. Whenever any outsider is discovered who has recent war news of value, we invite him to luncheon and proceed to cross-question him in general and in particular.
Wednesday, September 23d. A little sadly I took supper this evening at the Café du Commerce where the members of the atelier used to meet in the days of student life. As I was eating, who should walk in and sit down beside me but my friend Daumal, sous-massier of the atelier when war broke out, whom I had not seen since he departed for the front as a private.
He is now Sergeant Daumal of the First Line Regiment, wounded at Longwy and just out of the hospital, homeward bound on a two weeks’ convalescent leave. As he described it, “une de ces marmites à 28-centimètres” had exploded a little distance from him. Although he had not been struck by any fragments, the shock had rendered him so thoroughly unconscious that for a day he had been passed over by the ambulance orderlies as dead and had finally been discovered by a burying squad to be not in need of a grave but of a hospital.
The bombardment of Rheims Cathedral has stirred France to indignation, but apparently not nearly as much as it has stirred the outside world. The capacity of the French for being “stirred to indignation” has lost some of its elasticity by this time. It is an action so vivid, so neat, so concise, that it turns the sympathies of neutrals more than a thousand “routine” accounts of burnings and killings. They bombarded Rheims Cathedral! These four words need no elaboration. I myself find it difficult to keep that neutral equilibrium which is necessary in an Attaché who wishes to observe as much and as correctly as possible. Whitney Warren, the architect, and several Attachés are to be sent to Rheims in a day or two to make an investigation.
Sunday, September 27th. I examine indigent Germans, Austrians, and Hungarians every morning, and during the afternoon take special cases to the police, and write up accounts.
Today Paris had another visit from a German aëroplane which threw the usual three bombs. One of them fell in the Avenue du Trocadéro near the Embassy. It just missed demolishing the Ambassador and Mr. Frazier who were in an automobile on their way to inspect the buildings and grounds of the German Embassy. They had driven over the spot only two minutes before the bomb struck. I was at the same time on my way to the Embassy, having met them near the Pont d’Alma. I passed along the avenue a minute later and had just turned the corner when the bomb fell, killing an old man and tearing a leg off a little girl. The day was very cloudy and the aviator was above the clouds; for this reason no one seems to have discovered him and he must have thrown his bomb at random.
Monday, September 28th. At lunch today in the Café Royal I overheard a Frenchman remark that although he and all his compatriots greatly esteemed Mr. Herrick, it would nevertheless have been an excellent service against the enemy had he tactfully allowed himself to be annihilated by the German bomb which missed him yesterday. Later in the afternoon I took tea with Mr. Herrick at the Chancellerie, and he was much amused when I recounted to him this example of a somewhat equivocal good-will.
Tuesday, September 29th. The damage to Rheims Cathedral was largely the result of fire. The Germans had, during the time they held the city, converted it into a hospital; they had stacked the chairs against the walls and covered the floor deep with straw upon which to lay their wounded. During the spring and summer the front façade had been undergoing repairs and was covered with heavy wooden scaffolding similar to that which has for several years disfigured St. Sulpice in Paris. The Cathedral was very famous for its choir-stalls and other wood-carving, of which there was a great quantity, and the roof which covered the vaulting was held up by a forest of great timbers many centuries old.
After the Germans had been driven out of the city they bombarded it from the hills outside, and their shells lit the straw on the Cathedral floor. Over it the fire ran swiftly, ignited the chairs piled against the walls, and then spread to the great masses of carved woodwork; finally the scaffolding and roof caught fire and the famous old Cathedral burned in one great conflagration. It has been particularly famous for three things: its woodwork, its front façade, and its stained-glass windows. The woodwork went up in smoke, the front façade was all scorched and disintegrated by the intense heat so that the surface of the stone detail is blowing off in fine dust, while the glass to the last particle was shattered by the concussions of bursting shells. The Cathedral stands like a great skeleton of its former self. Its flesh, as it were, is gone although few of its bones are broken.
Saturday, October 3d. This is the first war in modern times in which whole nations have gone to battle; in this conflict every man in a nation is a soldier. In Napoleon’s day France had about the same population—forty millions—that she now has, but Napoleon’s professional armies numbered, at most, only two hundred thousand men, while today France has put fifteen or twenty times as many in the field. In the present war, when an army sustains a 10 per cent. loss it is not merely 10 per cent. of the army, but actually of the able-bodied men of the nation.
Wednesday, October 7th. A German aëroplane again threw bombs on Paris today.
Thursday, October 8th. Another Taube came today and threw bombs in the neighborhood of the Gare du Nord. These machines in flight look very much like sparrow-hawks and have a singularly sinister appearance.
Sunday, October 11th. We had a record-breaking flock of Taubes today when a number came together and dropped about twenty bombs. Their combined score was twenty-two people killed and wounded; as usual, all women, children, and old men.