1918 Page 10

  Progress was good but came with high losses; units in Mangin’s Tenth Army suffered up to 75 per cent casualties. Also, supporting and flanking attacks were not organized in a timely fashion to exploit the German withdrawal. For their part, the Germans withdrew in tolerably good order, using rear-guard units and gas bombardments to slow the Allied advance. Nevertheless, the battle was hailed as a great Allied victory. A considerable foothold had been gained in the German lines and over 29,000 Germans had been taken prisoner with 793 guns and 3,000 machine guns captured. In the aftermath, Foch was made a Marshal of France on 7 August.

  Foch now turned his mind to coordinating a series of offensives that could follow up on this initial success. In a format that he would return to, he envisaged launching massive pincher attacks with the British as the northern (left) arm of the attack and the Americans forming the southern (right) arm. The French Army would attack the central zone in any such attack. Haig’s plan to focus on Amiens fitted into Foch’s overall scheme, and he released elements of Général de Division Debeney's French First and Général de Division Georges Louis Humbert's Third Armies to take part in the battle of Amiens (8–12 August).31 This decisive action saw the BEF, with French and American support, create a significant gap in the German lines in a model combined arms action. This resulted in panic among the German defenders and Ludendorff, recognising this as the ‘black day of the German Army’, suffered a nervous collapse. The Allies now had a system that they could repeat with success until the final defeat of Germany.

  There then followed a serious of Allied offensives throughout August. Mangin attacked between the Aisne and Oise on 20 August, followed by attacks by combined BEF and French forces on the northern end of the Hindenburg Line on 23 and 26 August. Later in the month, Mangin forced the Germans out of their winter positions north of the Aisne, while the Americans (III Corps) and II Corps Coloniale began the St Mihiel offensive on 12 September.32 This major American operation was a success, although German forces had managed to withdraw. Pershing pressed for further exploitation, but this was refused by Foch. On 26 September a massive French–American offensive began in the Argonne Forest with 31 French and 15 American divisions, 4,000 guns and 700 tanks. Despite this huge concentration of force, they advanced just a few kilometres due to the dogged German defence and their own logistical problems. However, Foch’s strategy of keeping the Germans under pressure was followed and resulted in British attacks at Cambrai (Canal du Nord) and St Quentin on 27 and 29 September respectively. On 30 September, the French began a further major offensive on the Aisne. The combination of negative reports pouring into German headquarters resulted in a further nervous collapse for Ludendorff.

  While German resistance continued, pressure now mounted on all fronts, with offensives in the West, Italy, and against the Bulgarians. There were increasing reports of unrest in Germany, and, on 30 September, Bulgaria signed an armistice. This was followed by a combined German and Austro-Hungarian appeal to President Wilson for an armistice on 4 October. Perhaps unsurprisingly, with the final defeat of the Central Powers in the offing, Allied politicians and commanders refused to countenance an armistice on conditional terms.

  Thereafter, operations gathered pace. BEF forces and the French First Army attacked and breached the Hindenburg Line, near Cambrai, on 8 October. This was a decisive moment in the war and resulted in a general German withdrawal along the entire line. Despite growing logistical difficulties and the impact of influenza on the Allied armies, the French and British forces maintained the pressure throughout October. A combined French–American attack cleared the Argonne by 10 October, and the Belgians and BEF had cleared Lille by 14 October. In the south, Mangin took Laon while Général de Division Adolphe Guillaumat's Fourth Army cleared the Chemin des Dames and pushed for Mazières. By the end of the month, the BEF and Belgian forces had cleared the Channel ports and advanced to the Scheldt.

  For the final phase of the war, the French maintained the offensive. This was later criticized due to the casualties incurred this late in the war but it marked a determination on the part of Foch and his subordinate commanders to continue to push the Germans from French soil. The French Army would remain in action right up until the Armistice. While the Americans remained on the offensive on the Meuse and the Sedan area, and the British advanced to the Sambre-Oise Canal, the French mounted a series of attacks on improvised German positions north of the Aisne. Day by day, they continued to reclaim patches of French territory in series of small, but bitterly fought actions. On 3 November, Austro-Hungarian representatives signed an armistice. Thereafter, the German collapse accelerated and with naval personnel in a state of mutiny at home, Germany submitted armistice terms to the allied Supreme War Council on 5 November. On 8 November, Armistice negotiations opened at Compiègne.

  Maréchal Foch, as Allied Supreme Commander, headed the Allied delegation for these negotiations. He had already formulated plans for further military action in 1919 and he adopted a hard line at the talks in the knowledge that the Germans faced total military annihilation if hostilities continued. Foch met the German representatives, led by Matthias Erzberger, only twice – at an initial meeting and then to oversee the signing process at the end. While the other members of the Allied staff met with the German delegation, Foch continued to direct military operations.33

  The terms of the Armistice demanded the Germans withdraw from all occupied territory and effectively called for the demilitarisation of Germany. The articles for the cessation of hostilities called for the surrender of the materiel of war – artillery, machine guns, planes, naval vessels, tanks, trains, etc., while the Rhineland was to be occupied. If the conditions were not met, war would be renewed. Despite registering a formal protest at the terms, the Germans were in no position to negotiate, the Kaiser having abdicated on 9 November while Hindenburg sent a message urging them to sign regardless of the conditions. Signed at 5am (French time) on the morning of 11 November, the armistice would come into effect at 11am.

  French troops remained in contact with German forces and on the offensive until this deadline. At Vrigne-sur-Meuse, a river-crossing operation was begun late on the evening of 10 November, consisting of around 700 troops. Of these, around 90 soldiers were killed in the attack. The last French soldier believed to have been killed was Soldat Augustin Trebuchon, of the 415th Infantry regiment. A regimental runner, he was killed while bringing forward a message that read ‘muster at 11.30 for food’. In the nearby cemetery, Trebuchon’s grave cross records his date of death as 10 November, as indeed do the crosses of all those killed in this action on the last day of the war.34

  In the final analysis, despite their often violent disagreements, the divergent strategic visions of Pétain and Foch both had a part to play during the campaigns of 1918. Pétain’s dogged tenacity in defence, his ruthless use of firepower, and his ability to shift reserves speedily had preserved France during the onslaught of the Spring Offensive. In Foch’s turn, his ability to organize and synchronize a series of simultaneous operations had allowed the French Army to keep the pressure on Germany during the final months of the war.

  Legacy – the ‘poverty of victory’

  Technically speaking, France emerged from World War I as one of the victorious nations. At the war’s end and in 1919, there were a series of victory parades in Paris and other French cities. Having survived this devastating conflict, there was much to celebrate, but in many ways this was an empty celebration, as France had emerged from the war a fundamentally damaged nation. In human terms, France had suffered over 1.3 million fatal casualties with a further 3.2 million wounded. Of the wounded, over a million of them had been permanently disabled, many of them classed as being ‘mutilée’ – mutilated by their injuries.35 Such losses had created over 700,000 war widows and innumerable children who would now grow up without fathers. In sheer demographic terms the war had killed off a whole French generation, if not generations. The effects would be felt for the remainder of the c
entury. While there was a large number of marriages in 1919 as troops were demobilized and returned home, marriage rates and birth rates would decrease in the 1920s and 1930s. During the 1920s, many small rural towns were predominantly populated by women, children and old people, and some eventually became deserted ghost towns as the remaining population moved away.

  In physical terms, a huge scar stretched across the surface of France, marking the battlefields of 1914 to 1918. It would take many years to repair towns and infrastructure and remove the debris of war. Many locations, Verdun in particular, still have cratered landscapes as a reminder of the war and un-exploded ordnance still shows up each year across France.

  In terms of commemoration, travellers in France will notice the war memorials in every town and village. Also, even the smallest city or rural church seems to have a depressingly long list of names of local men who did not return from the war. The national place of remembrance for World War I is the tombe du Soldat inconnu at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, but commemorations take place across the country every Armistice Day. The recent centenaries have seen a number of major commemorations at significant locations and a number of new memorials.

  Sadly, France also has many large cemeteries for its war dead, several with huge ossuaries containing the interned remains of many soldiers. During the 1920s, the French government allowed families to repatriate the bodies of their loved ones to their home towns. While this was a great comfort to the relatives, it also ensured that the grieving process would continue through the 1920s.

  By the time World War I ended, France was also already committed to further campaigns abroad. Many soldiers who had expected demobilisation were instead sent to Russia as part of the Allied intervention against the Bolsheviks, or to Salonika as Bulgaria descended into chaos. The successful campaign in the Middle East had brought France control of Syria and Lebanon, and sporadic fighting continued in Syria during the 1920s. Alternatively, a French soldier could be sent to North Africa or to join the occupation forces in Germany. Finally, industrial and political unrest in France was a feature of the 1920s and occasionally necessitated military intervention. While the world war may have ended, conflict at home and abroad would be a feature of the 1920s.

  Many of the main personalities on the French side, such as Foch and Pétain, have undergone phases of evaluation since the war’s end. Foch, who died in 1929, had a reputation that waxed and waned in the post-war years, but today he is largely remembered as an efficient and effective commander who possessed a considerable strategic facility.36 Pétain, on the other hand, was unfortunate not to die until 1951. Although having been recognized as the ‘saviour of France’ on at least two occasions and elevated to the rank of Marshal of France, his association with the Vichy regime during World War II permanently damaged his reputation. As a result, it is difficult to objectively see Pétain in his World War I context.

  For French officers and men, the war had proved to be a dangerous and harrowing experience. By the end of the war, the French Army had fielded almost nine million soldiers. The worst fatalities occurred, as might be expected, among the infantry at 22.6 per cent. The war that emerged in 1914 was entirely unexpected by the French commanders and its character continually evolved. Any soldier who survived the whole war would have recognized that the war of 1918 was fundamentally different to the methods employed at its onset. Like the British, the French had developed the tank and had, by 1918, developed a combined arms doctrine of warfare. In the inter-war years, against a backdrop of turbulent domestic and international politics, the hard-won lessons of World War I were largely forgotten. France’s successful methods of 1918 were ignored, and from the late 1920s, the Maginot Line emerged as the embodiment of the new defensive strategy. While the Germans returned to the concept of mobile warfare, France would dig in and defend against any future German attack through a strategy of fortification. It was a lesson that was based on the battle of Verdun and the experiences of 1916 rather than the operational lessons of 1918. The bitter defeat of 1940 would prove that it was the wrong lesson.

  CHAPTER 4

  THE BRITISH ARMY IN 1918

  Dr Jonathan Boff

  1918 was the most successful year in the history of the British Army.1 Never before or since has it exerted such strategic weight and advanced Great Britain’s foreign policy aims so completely. It helped defeat the Central Powers, ending World War I, and ensured Britain had a crucial seat at the Paris peace conference, all the while safeguarding and reinforcing her imperial position around the globe. The focus of this chapter is resolutely on the Western Front, where the army, for the first and last time in its history, played a leading role in the defeat of the main enemy in the primary theatre of operations. British soldiers and airmen, with their American, Belgian, and French allies, fought a series of battles which broke the spine of the German Army, shattered the nerve of its leadership, and so helped to force Germany to beg for peace. They did so by achieving an extremely rare operational feat. Three times in the 20th century British forces have managed to make the extremely difficult transition from theatre-level defence to successful offence. In 1942, Eighth Army held Rommel in the Western Desert before Montgomery led it over to victory with his attack at the second battle of El Alamein. In 1944, Slim’s Fourteenth Army withstood ferocious Japanese attacks at Imphal and Kohima and then launched the counter-offensive which cleared Burma. Both were brave and well-handled campaigns, but neither matches the achievement of Sir Douglas Haig’s British Expeditionary Force (BEF) during March–November 1918 in either scale or significance. First, in the spring, the British, retreating, fought a series of heavy German assaults to a standstill. Then, during the late summer and autumn, the BEF, alongside its allies, went on the attack, overrunning multiple successive lines of defence and liberating swathes of Belgium and France until the German High Command was left with no option but to request an armistice.

  This chapter explores what underpinned this rare military achievement. It comprises four sections. After first outlining the situation around New Year 1918, it will secondly analyse the defensive fighting undertaken by the BEF in the spring. A third section looks in detail at the autumn offensive, often known as the ‘Hundred Days’ campaign. A recurring theme is how the historical record has been distorted in particular by the German official historians between the wars and then by the Cold War concerns of Western soldiers and military analysts. The chapter concludes with a brief case study of the 46th Division attack on the Hindenburg Line which demonstrates the capability of the British Army by late 1918. It argues that the BEF owed its victory to a variety of factors. These included improved tactical and operational skill, resilient morale, and improved leadership at every level, but also, crucially, weaker opposition from a German army which had run out of men, materiel and ideas.

  Background

  The BEF’s successes in 1918 were especially remarkable because it had begun the year in something very close to crisis after a year of disappointments. The battle of Arras (9 April–16 May 1917) had opened with promise but the successes of the first day could not be exploited and the fighting soon degenerated into a bloody attritional slog. Innovative use of artillery and mines had brought success at Messines (7 June 1917) but the follow-up offensive had taken weeks to set up. When the British did finally open the Third Battle of Ypres, on 31 July, progress in critical sectors was much less than hoped and poor weather soon slowed the advance to a crawl. A series of limited-objective attacks, carried out according to the operational method known as ‘bite and hold’ in September and early October, got the offensive moving again but progress was slow and casualties high, even before rain and mud turned the battlefield into a swamp. It took the Canadians until November to get onto higher ground and seize the ruins of Passchendaele village. In London, Prime Minister David Lloyd George was growing increasingly uneasy at Haig’s conduct of the campaign. 1917 would claim over 800,000 British casualties and, despite the Commander-in-Chief’s repeated protes
tations that the German Army was on the brink of collapse, Lloyd George could detect little sign that it was closer to breakdown than it had been a year earlier.2 Any optimism raised by the initial success of an attack using massed tanks and innovative artillery tactics at Cambrai on 20 November soon evaporated as exploitation once more failed and Haig repeated his old mistake of repeatedly throwing tired troops against strengthening defences.3 Worse, a neatly executed German counter-attack caught the British off balance and recaptured much of the ground lost. As the generals involved scrambled to pass the buck, Lloyd George decided to purge the army command. Politically, Haig was untouchable and there were in any case no obvious candidates to do much better. His staff at General Headquarters (GHQ) in France, however, was another matter and several of Haig’s closest subordinates, including the head of intelligence, the Quartermaster General, and even the Chief of Staff, Launcelot Kiggell, were replaced. At the War Office, the place of Sir William Robertson as Chief of the Imperial General Staff and main military advisor to the government was taken by Sir Henry Wilson.

  These personnel changes were designed to send Haig a message, which Lloyd George now underlined by refusing to agree to GHQ’s demands for another 650,000 men to fill gaps in the establishment and allow for foreseeable wastage. Lloyd George thought he could see better uses for manpower at home in the factories, in other theatres, or indeed in the future, than in another probably futile slaughter under Haig on the Western Front in 1918. Indeed, any use seemed better than that. GHQ received only 100,000 men. In consequence, the War Office decided to reorganize the BEF and broke up a handful of infantry and cavalry divisions. More importantly, the old ‘square’ infantry brigades were restructured on a ‘triangular’ basis, dropping from four battalions each to just three. Divisions which had been used to fighting with 12 infantry battalions now disposed of only nine. Some 134 battalions were disbanded, amalgamated, or converted. In principle, the idea of reducing reliance on manpower in favour of firepower was sensible. However, the timing of the reorganization, which disrupted almost every formation in the BEF as units were transferred in or out, proved unfortunate. The process was not complete until 4 March.