Following immediately on this report came the three converging attacks of the Allies. On October 9th the German Army, under British pressure, abandoned the whole Hindenburg position, and entered upon a general retreat from the North Sea to the Meuse. At that moment 44 of the German divisions in line were not to be depended on for further serious fighting, and there were only 22 divisions available to replace them, of which 15 were of inferior quality, holding "quiet" sectors. On October 11th the French Intelligence Bureau reported that "it is impossible for the enemy, with the forces that he has at present in line, to stop and face any considerable attack for an appreciable time."
On October 4th, the day after Hindenburg's letter to Prince Max, the German Chancellor cabled to President Wilson, asking for an Armistice. Already, on September 28th, in the very midst of the British attack on the Hindenburg line, and on the morrow of General Gouraud's and General Pershing's first advances in Champagne and the Argonne, the German Command had warned the Chancellor that this step must be taken, and from October 9th onward there was no more heart left in the German Armies. The "prisoners" line in the chart,[[10] ] brought daily up to date at the Headquarters of the British Army, shows what the demoralisation had become in the German ranks. After the British battle of the Sambre (November 4th) there were practically no reserves left, and Marshal Foch had plans in store which, had there been any further resistance, must have led to the wholesale capitulation of all that was left of the German Armies.
So in ignominy and shame the German onslaught on the liberties of Europe came—militarily—to its bitter end. The long-drawn agony of four and a half years was over, and the "wearing-out battle" had done its work. Now, six months later, we are in the midst of that stern Epilogue—in which a leagued Europe and America are dictating to Germany the penalties by which alone she may purge her desperate offence. A glance at the conditions of Peace published to the world on May 11th, the anniversary of the-sinking of the Lusitania, will form the natural conclusion to this imperfect survey of the last and most glorious stage in "England's Effort." But for the moment, let me return to the "Features of the War," and Marshal Haig's comments on them in his last Despatch. Many, many books will be written about them in the future! All I can do here is to single out a few of those that seem to be most commonly in the minds of those who are still thinking about the war.
Take, first, the value of cavalry in modern battle. In his April Despatch, Sir Douglas Haig enters on a strong defence of it—the plea of a great cavalry leader. Since the stabilisation of the trench system in the West, it has been, as we can all remember, a commonplace of the newspapers and of private conversation that cavalry were played out—a mere useless or ornamental excrescence on armies that, by the help of tanks and aeroplanes, could now excellently do without them. "Not at all," replies Sir Douglas Haig. If the German Command had had at their disposal last March and April "even two or three well-trained cavalry divisions, a wedge might have been driven between the French and British armies." In any case, the difficulties of our task would have been greatly increased. On the other hand, our cavalry were enormously useful to us in the same battle. "So great indeed became the need for mounted men that certain units which had been dismounted were hurriedly provided with horses and did splendid service. Frequently when it was impossible to move forward other troops in time our mounted troops were able to fill gaps in our line and restore the situation." During the long trench battle of the middle years "the absence of room for manoeuvre made the importance of cavalry less apparent." But in the last stage of the struggle, when the Germans "were falling back in disorganised masses," the moral effect of British cavalry pressing on the heels of the enemy was "overwhelming," and had not the Armistice stopped the cavalry advance, it would have turned the enemy's disorganised retreat "into a rout."
This is strong testimony, and will probably be stoutly fought by the eager advocates of "mechanical contrivances." But Sir Douglas Haig stands to it that no form of mechanical contrivance can ever either make the cavalryman useless, or the infantryman, who is "the backbone of defence and the spearhead of attack," less important. He admits, indeed, fully that machine guns, tanks, aeroplanes, and motor transport "have given a greater driving power to war," and that the country which possesses most of such things has an advantage over its opponents. But he insists that their only "real function" is to assist the infantry to get to grips with their opponents, and that of themselves "they cannot possibly obtain a decision." To imagine that tanks and aeroplanes can ever take the place of infantry and cavalry is to do these marvellous tools themselves a disservice by expecting of them more than they can perform. "Only by the rifle and bayonet of the infantry can the decisive victory be won." For, as the Commander-in-Chief lays down no less strongly than this great French colleague, Marshal Foch, "this war has given no new principles." But it has greatly complicated the application of the old. Every new invention makes the problem of co-operation—of interaction between the different armies and services—more difficult and more imperative.
As to the artillery history of the war, the Field Marshal gives the most amazing figures. When in 1916, at the suggestion of Mr. Roosevelt, and by the wish of our Government, I went through some of our leading munition districts, with a view to reporting what was being done in them to England's friends in America, the great development which started from the Munitions Act of 1915 was still only in its earlier stages. Everywhere the Government factories were rising with what seemed incredible rapidity, and the older works were doubling and trebling their output. But the output was still far behind the need. By the date of the Somme Battle, indeed—in the autumn, that is, of the same year—it had risen enormously. I may quote my own words in England's Effort (October, 1916): "The total amount of heavy guns and ammunition manufactured in Great Britain in the first ten months of the war would not have kept the British bombardment on the Somme going for a single day."
And now?