Times had changed greatly since the first campaign, when the German armies advanced to the very doors of Paris soon after war was declared. With America sending thousands of men each month to reinforce the armies of France and Great Britain, it appeared that the Allies soon would have the necessary numerical superiority to drive the enemy out of France and Belgium for all time, and to strike a decisive blow in the war.
So far, while battles of such magnitude as had never been seen before were fought almost daily, there had been nothing in the nature of a conflict that would indicate an ultimate decision. True, the Germans and Austrians, their allies, had staggered the Allies with a crushing drive in Italy; but, through the prompt action of the British and French, they had been driven back again.
It appeared, at this moment, that the next great blow would be delivered by the Allies; that, with her numerical superiority overcome, her output of munitions of war surpassed, Germany from this time on must remain on the defensive in an effort to retain what ground she had won in the early days of the war and to keep her enemies off German soil.
On the twentieth day of March the great battle line extended, roughly, from Ostend on the North Sea south to within a few miles of Ypres, thence to Bailleul and Lens. Here it was pushed slightly east, touching Bapaume and Peronne. In the Soissons region the Germans were in possession of Chauny and Laon. The battle line continued south to the river Aisne, and then followed that stream east into Alsace-Lorraine.
Everywhere, up to this time—that is, since the early days of the war—success had seemed to crown the efforts of the Allies on the Western front. On the Eastern front, however, it was different. Through German intrigue, Russia had been removed as a belligerent and more than a million and a half of German troops had been released to reinforce the hard-pressed Germans on the west.
Though the loss of Russia’s aid in the war was a severe blow to the Allies, it was more than offset by the entrance of the United States into the conflict. American soldiers were being rushed to Europe with all possible dispatch and were taking their places on the firing line. Already they had covered themselves with glory. So far, however, they had taken part only in what the official dispatches called “skirmishes,” although, compared to battles of previous wars, they could be classed as engagements of more than passing importance.
But the time was coming, and coming soon, when the Yankee troops would go “over the top” under command of General Pershing in such force and with such courage that the Germans could not stand before them.
Through the decision of an Allied war council, in which the United States participated, General Foch had been made the supreme commander of the Allied forces—British, American and Italian included. It was believed that through this unity of command greater success would be achieved than had yet been manifest.
And the time for Marshal Foch to prove his mettle was at hand.
Under the personal direction of General von Hindenburg, the greatest military genius that the war had yet produced, the German forces had been massed for their second effort to break through to Paris. Although Marshal Foch had some slight inkling of the impending attack, he had been unable to tell just where it would be made. True, his air scouts had flown time and again over the enemy lines, but so far they had failed to learn where the foe would strike.