In 1905, the two years’ term of service, which had already been tried experimentally, was made a permanent institution for the infantry, and the establishment rose to 505,000 men. In 1911, the bill for the military quinquennium anticipated only the small increase of 10,000 men even by 1915, but it introduced important technical improvements in machine-guns, artillery, supply and transport, and so forth. In 1912, when the 1911 act had scarcely begun to take effect, a fresh army bill was proposed. Public opinion was still in a ferment over the events of the past summer and the aftermath of the Agadir episode. The new act, taking advantage of this wave of patriotism, at once embodied, for working purposes, the measures anticipated by the bill of 1911. It created two new army corps, one for the western frontier, the other for the eastern, and raised the peace establishment to 544,000 men.
The character of the 1911 and 1912 acts is different from that of the preceding measures. Their primary object was to improve the quality of the army. They both tended to make it a more effective instrument for fighting, and one more ready for immediate use at the outbreak of hostilities.
One might have supposed that after such marked progress the War Office would have rested on its laurels. It did nothing of the kind. Towards the end of 1912, when the Balkan League was winning its first victories, there set in a current of opinion, strongly encouraged by the Imperial Government, in favour of demanding reinforcements to fill up the gaps that still existed. The Wehrverein distinguished itself by its frantic propaganda on behalf of new armaments. A Press campaign was organized. The Emperor gave his sanction to the movement, and in a speech at Königsberg declared that the principle of compulsory service should be applied on a uniform basis. The Chancellor, following in his master’s footsteps, announced in February, at the annual meeting of landed proprietors, that the country must be prepared for fresh military burdens.
After this official flourish of trumpets, the bill was laid on the table of the Reichstag on March 18, 1913. It fixed the peace establishment, officers and non-commissioned included, at 815,000; the additions were estimated at 4,000 officers, 15,000 N.C.O.’s, and 117,000 men. The increase applied to every arm—infantry, cavalry, artillery, engineers, and supply and transport corps. It was a mighty leap! The measures anticipated by the law of 1912 were to come into force by the end of 1913. Finally, the bill contained a clause trebling the war treasure kept in reserve for the first requirements of a mobilization: it was raised from 150,000,000 to 300,000,000 marks (£15,000,000) in gold, besides 150,000,000 (£7,500,000) in silver.
Was the danger really so pressing? Was the storm already brewing on the frontiers of the Empire? If not, it was hard to justify these hasty measures, especially the financial part of the scheme, the forced levy, to cover the enormous expenses, £50,000,000, which these measures would entail. The explanatory statement, indeed, was far from convincing. It confined itself to remarking that passing events in the Balkans had altered the balance of power in Europe. In the war that she might be compelled to wage, Germany would have only herself to rely upon, and would have to guard, perhaps against several opponents, frontiers of great length and largely unprovided with natural defences. Hence the vital need of employing and organizing all the forces at her disposal.
The main ideas of the bill were: to introduce a uniform system of military service, with numbers increasing at the same rate as the population; to improve the quality of the first-line troops—in other words, the younger section of the army; to arrange for a more speedy mobilization; and—an object that had always been kept in view—to perfect the technical equipment. In round numbers, an increase of 63,000 men each year was expected. The 1913 act is full of suggestive references to telegraphs, telephones, balloons, aeroplanes, and motor-cars; but it volunteers no information regarding the heavy artillery and the siege-guns which were destined to startle the world in 1914. This formidable addition to the destructive power of the German army was carefully kept secret. The military authorities had for a long time firmly believed that their army was invincible, and the possession of such irresistible weapons must have served to strengthen their confidence.
The Chancellor, in supporting the bill, dwelt more fully on the ideas set forth in the explanatory statement. In vague phrases, he hinted that peace was far from secure, raising up bogeys to frighten his audience—the French jingoes, now more heated than ever, and the Russian Pan-Slavists, with their ceaseless intrigues. The War Minister maintained in all seriousness that the new law had no aggressive aim, that it must be construed, not as a threat to other nations, but as a guarantee of peace. General von Heeringen was asking us to swallow a good deal!
As soon as the debate opened at the Budget Committee, it was evident that the bill was certain to pass. A month later, the committee approved it, without examining the financial side, and the Government had to abandon all hope of seeing both parts of the bill, the military and the financial, passed by the same majority. In the Reichstag, only the Poles, the Socialists, and the Alsace-Lorrainers ventured to vote against the military proposals.
The Wehrverein, however, was not satisfied. In a meeting held at Leipzig on May 18, it suggested that two new army corps should be formed, and recommended, “in order that no enemy should ever again set his foot on the soil of the Fatherland,” that every care should be taken to foster the martial and patriotic spirit of the community, the spirit of the army being that of the nation.
However much we may wish to shut our eyes to the fact, we can hardly fail to see in the 1913 act a preparation for making war at no distant date. Its call to arms is as clear as the note of a bugle that summons men to the fight. Yet Europe, with her eyes riveted on other visions—the second Balkan War was imminent—paid far too little attention to the Reichstag debates. Perhaps she was still misled by the spurious pacifism of the Kaiser. The Triple Entente continued to harbour the most peaceful intentions, as is attested by impartial observers who were well-informed as to the state of public opinion in the three countries and as to the ideals of their statesmen. The desire to provoke a war, therefore, can only be imputed to that Government and that nation which were arming to the teeth for battle and for conquest.