As at Salamanca, where the liberty of manoeuvre which had been won by the Strategy of Marmont was wrested from him by the Tactics of Wellington, so at the final phase of the First Battle of the Marne (September, 1914), the initiative was regained by tactical adroitness. Rapidity of action was the great German asset, while that of Russia was an inexhaustible supply of troops. To obtain a quick decision the Germans went to every length. Of the main routes for the invasion of France chosen for their armies, two led through the neutral territories of Luxemburg and Belgium, and only one through France, and their advance there broke {28} down, almost at the first, at the only point where it was legitimately conducted, for the German armies failed to pierce the French Front at the Gap of Charmes (Vosges), and their defeat at the Battle of Baccarat (August 25, 1914) led to the decisive defeat at the First Battle of the Marne. They then abandoned, for the moment, all hopes of a quick decision in a war of manoeuvre and retiring to their prepared lines of defence on the Aisne, relied upon methodically prepared and regularly constructed trench systems, and upon the hand grenade, the trench mortar, and the other weapons of close combat, for superiority in a long campaign of trench siege warfare, which endured until the collapse of Russia in 1917 freed for an offensive movement on the requisite scale in 1918 upwards of 1,500,000 men. At the First Battle of the Marne, the five German armies, which were following up the Franco-British left and centre, were extended from Amiens to Verdun, but on September 8, 1914, the German I. Army (General von Kluck) was so placed by the impetuosity of the march that a wide gap separated it from the remainder of the German forces. To the north-west of Paris a new French Army, collected from the Metropolitan garrison and from the south-eastern frontier, had been assembled and pushed out in motor transports by the zeal and intelligence of the Military Governor of Paris (General Gallieni); and to avoid this menace to his flank and line of communications, and to regain touch with the other German armies, one of which (under the Crown Prince) was unsuccessfully engaged in battle, General von Kluck adopted the extremely hazardous course of a flank march, across the front of the Franco-British left wing. Upon receiving intelligence of this manoeuvre from the Air Service in Paris, General Joffre, seeing the opportunity of gaining the initiative, ordered an advance to the attack on September 6, and the First Battle of the Marne, which resulted from this order, changed the character of the fighting on the {29} Western Front. The decisive blow was strategical rather than tactical. It was delivered on a battlefield of 6,000 square miles, and involved, throughout that area, a struggle of six great armies, numbering in all 700,000 troops, against a similar number of armies of at least equal strength. No counter-attack on such a scale had previously been delivered in any campaign, and the scarcely interrupted advance of the German armies received a permanent check, while the strategic aim of the German Staff, namely, the speedy annihilation in the field of the Franco-British armies, had to be definitely abandoned.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE BATTLE.—The "atmosphere" of battle is thus depicted in "The Science of War": "When two armies are face to face and one is superior in numbers to the other, the commander of the smaller army is confronted by two problems. If the superior army is not yet concentrated, or is so distributed that the different parts cannot readily support each other, it may be defeated in detail. If the superior army is already concentrated, its commander may be induced, by one means or another, to make detachments, and thus to be weak everywhere. The first problem is solved by rapidity of manoeuvre, surprise marches, secrecy, feints to bewilder the adversary in his concentration, and action on unexpected lines. The second, by skilful threatening of points for the defence of which the adversary will detach forces; by concealment of his dispositions; and by drawing the adversary into terrain where part only of his superior forces can be employed." "The power of striking 'like a bolt from the blue' is of the greatest value in war. Surprise was the foundation of almost all the great strategical combinations of the past, as it will be of those to come. The first thought and the last of the great general is to outwit his adversary and to strike where he is least expected. To what Federal soldier did it occur on the {30} morning of Chancellorsville (May 2-8, 1863) that Lee, confronted by 90,000 Northerners, would detach Stonewall Jackson with more than half his own force of 43,000 to attack his adversary in the rear" ("The Science of War"). Surprise was the chief cause of success in the First Battle of Cambrai (November 20, 1917) when General Sir Julian Byng launched the III. Army at dawn against the highly organised defensive position known as the "Hindenburg Line." The wire entanglements in front of this position were exceptionally deep, and had not been broken by gun-fire. Behind them the Germans were resting in apparent security and such information as they were able to obtain by raiding reconnaissances was not corroborated by the fierce and prolonged artillery bombardment which was at that time regarded as the inseparable prelude to an attack in force. The advance was preceded by battalions of Tanks, with Infantry in close support, and was followed by Cavalry, to round up fugitives and disorganise reinforcements. The artillery had previously been strengthened and was directed against the support and reserve lines, to prevent the Germans from massing for counter-attacks and to break up their formations. Aircraft carried out reconnaissance during the battle from a low altitude and harassed the defenders with fire action. An advance was made into the strongest part of the German defensive system on a twenty-mile front to a depth of five miles, and secured upwards of 11,000 prisoners, 150 guns, and considerable quantities of stores and materials, and although after-events neutralised the initial successes, the advance of November 20, 1917, will ever remain an example of the value of surprise in war. "Surprise strikes with terror even those who are by far the stronger. A new weapon of war may ensure it, or a sudden appearance of a force larger than the adversary's, or a concentration of forces upon a point at which the adversary is not ready instantaneously to parry the blow. But if the methods {31} be various, the aim is always to produce the same moral effect upon the enemy—terror—by creating in him at the swift apparition of unexpected and incontestably powerful means, the sentiment of impotence, the conviction that he cannot conquer—that is to say, that he is conquered. And this supreme blow of unexpected vigour need not be directed upon the whole of the enemy's army. For an army is an animate and organised being, a collection of organs, of which the loss even of a single one leads to death" (Marshal Foch). At almost any period of the battle, and in almost every phase of fighting, surprise can be brought about by a sudden and unexpected outburst of effective machine gun or other form of fire. "A sudden effective fire will have a particularly demoralising effect on the enemy; it is often advantageous, therefore, to seek for surprise effects of this sort by temporarily withholding fire" ("Infantry Training, 1921").

THE DECISIVE BLOW.—The preparatory action and the development usually take the form of a converging movement of separated forces, so timed as to strike the adversary's front and flank simultaneously, in order to threaten the enemy's line of communications, for the line of supply is as vital to the existence of an army as the heart to the life of a human being. "Perhaps no situation is more pitiable than that of a commander who has permitted an enemy to sever his communications. He sees the end of his resources at hand, but not the means to replenish them" (General Sir E. B. Hamley). The decisive blow will be delivered by the General Reserve, which will be secretly concentrated and launched as secretly as possible; and the commander of the whole force will so distribute his troops that about half his available force can be kept in hand for this decisive blow, on a part of the enemy's front if sufficient penetration has been effected, or on a flank. The point chosen becomes the vital {32} point, and success there means success at all points. Once routed, the enemy must be relentlessly pursued and prevented from regaining order and moral.

A battle was fought in the year B.C. 331, nearly 2,300 years ago, at Arbela,[1] in Mesopotamia, the Eastern theatre of operations in the Great War of 1914-18, and it deserves study to show the eternal nature of the main principles which underlie the Art of War. Alexander the Great invaded the territories of Darius, King of the Medes and Persians, with the strategic aim of defeating his adversary's main armies in a decisive battle. The Macedonian forces were preceded by an Advanced Guard of Cavalry, and from information obtained by the Vanguard, Alexander was made aware of the strength and position of the Persian forces. By a careful reconnaissance of the ground in company with his Corps Commanders, Alexander was able to forestall a projected movement, and by advancing in two lines of battle in such a way that his troops could at any moment be thrown into a compact figure fringed with spears, which formed an impenetrable hedge against cavalry, he found a remedy for the disadvantages of the ground, which afforded no protection to either of his flanks. After advancing in these two lines Alexander manoeuvred his troops into a phalanx, or wedge-shaped figure, and this wedge he drove into the masses of the enemy to force the wings asunder. In spite of local reverses in parts of the field, the depth and weight of the main attack carried it through the enemy's forces: the survivors were captured or dispersed, and the victory was complete.

[1] The site of this battle was probably Gaugamela, about 60 miles from the present Arbil, which is 40 miles from Mosul, on the Baghdad road.

{33}

HOW BATTLES ARE INFLUENCED

Once troops are launched in battle their success or failure depends upon such influences as the commander can bring to bear, upon the co-operation of his subordinate commanders, and upon the moral and training of the troops engaged.

THE COMMANDER'S INFLUENCE is shown, first in his orders for the operations, and later by the method in which he employs the forces retained in his hand for the decisive blow. Personal control, by the commander, of troops committed to battle, is not only impossible but should be unnecessary, as such control and leading is the function of his subordinates, who should be fully acquainted with his intentions and must be trusted to carry them into execution. Other, and more important, duties have to be undertaken by the commander, and it is essential that he should not allow his attention to be diverted from his main object by local incidents, which are matters for his subordinates to deal with. "A sound system of command is based upon three facts: an army cannot be effectively controlled by direct orders from headquarters; the man on the spot is the best judge of the situation; intelligent co-operation is of infinitely more value than mechanical obedience" ("The Science of War"). A campaign resolves itself into a struggle between human intelligences. Each commander will endeavour to defeat his adversary in battle, and his principal weapon is his General Reserve. If he can exhaust the reserve power of his adversary, while maintaining his own intact, he can proceed to victory at his own time, and he will endeavour to exhaust the hostile reserves by causing {34} them to be thrown in piecemeal, in ignorance of the spot where the decisive blow is to fall. During the campaign on the Western Front in 1918 the Allies were able to conserve their strength throughout the attacks from March 21 to July 15, and when they passed from the guard to the thrust they extended their front of attack from day to day, calculating correctly that this gradual extension would mislead the enemy as to where the main blow would fall, and would cause him to throw in his reserves piecemeal.

"The subordinate commanders must bring to fruit with all the means at their disposal the scheme of the higher command, therefore they must, above all, understand that thought and then make of their means the use best suited to circumstances—of which, however, they are the only judge. . . . The Commander-in-Chief cannot take the place of his subordinates—he cannot think and decide for them. In order to think straight and to decide rightly it would be necessary for him to see through their eyes, to look at things from the place in which they actually stand, to be everywhere at the same moment" (Marshal Foch). Students of military history will remember that the Prussian Commander-in-Chief and his Chief Staff Officer, during the highly successful campaign of 1870-71, did not come within sound of the guns until five pitched battles had been fought by their subordinate commanders. Outside the fog of battle, with its absorbing interests and distractions, the commander can retain his sense of proportion[1] and can decide where and when he will make his final effort. News of the battle reaches him from his immediate subordinates, and from the accounts of successes and failures he is able to judge the weaknesses and strength of his own and his adversary's dispositions, to use part of his reserves as reinforcements, {35} if he must, or to husband them with confidence in the success of the operations, until the time comes for him to launch them for the final blow.