This grim, determined, and desperate struggle reveals qualities in the London troops which, though they existed, would not in a more spectacular success have been so clearly demonstrated. It requires good men to attack again and again until their object is gained, and when these attacks are launched against such splendidly trained soldiers as the Germans, one can only marvel that the thing was ever done, and applaud the steadfast courage, the endurance of body and spirit, which enabled the men to do it.
True, the battles of the Somme ended with both sides being stuck in the mud—an inglorious ending to so much heroism—and the final, and perhaps fatal, stroke was snatched from our grasp by the weather; but those who came through the battle may now consider dispassionately what it was they had accomplished.
The Central Powers (we must always remember that we fought more than the strength of Germany) had decided, as we know, to bleed France white on the field of Verdun. They were also pressing Italy hard and had gained important successes. The Entente Powers replied first with Brussiloff’s attack, and secondly with the Franco-British offensive on the
Somme. Falkenhayn declares that the most dangerous moment of the Russian offensive had been passed before the first shot of the battle of the Somme had been fired. He also maintains that the Austrian loss of the right bank of the Isonzo had no connection with the Somme; that the Germans would not in any case have sent troops to help their ally in Italy. As for Verdun, he deals with it in a somewhat unsatisfactory paragraph:
“The only tangible gain, then, of this battle to the enemy remains in its effect on the situation on the Western Front. As a matter of course, an expenditure of strength such as the enemy favoured demanded the use of corresponding forces for the defence. The operations in the Meuse area were not yet, however, immediately affected. On the 11th July we were still able, by a strong thrust, to advance our line on the east bank.... After this it was the tension of the whole situation, and especially the necessity to husband our matériel and ammunition, which necessitated the abandonment of any big German offensive operations on the Meuse. The headquarters of the Crown Prince’s Army Group were instructed to carry on the offensive calmly and according to plan, so as to give the enemy no good reason for concluding that he could hope for its cessation. This, too, was quite successful, for the French were unable to bring up reinforcements from the Meuse to the Somme front until September, when, following on the change of Chief of the General Staff, the ‘Verdun-offensive’ had been completely abandoned.”
The last sentence is, of course, the bitter pill for Falkenhayn. It is perhaps only natural that he would seek to justify his policy, and persist that he was right and would have succeeded had he been left
alone. Hindenburg’s memoirs give one a somewhat different impression:
“Very soon after I took over my new post I found myself compelled by the general situation to ask His Majesty the Emperor to order the offensive at Verdun to be broken off. The battles there exhausted our forces like an open wound. Moreover, it was obvious in any case that the enterprise had become hopeless, and that for us to persevere with it would cost us greater losses than those we were able to inflict on the enemy. The battlefield was a regular hell, and was regarded as such by the troops.”
And of the Somme he says:
“The extent of the demands which were being made on the army in the West was brought before my eyes quite vividly for the first time during this visit to France. I will not hesitate to admit that it was only now that I fully realised all that the Western Armies had done hitherto.... I could now understand how everyone, officers and men alike, longed to get away from such an atmosphere.... Many of our best and finest fighting men had to pour out their heart’s blood in destroyed trenches....