Friday, September 06, 2024

Decisive Battles: Frontiers 1914 - Part 4a: Run Around And Find Out.

"It is the hardest thing in the world to frighten a mongoose, because he is eaten up from nose to tail with curiosity. The motto of all the mongoose family is "Run and find out''; and Rikki-tikki was a true mongoose."
~ Rudyard Kipling, "Rikki-tikki-tavi"

We've come to Part Four of our look at the opening campaign of what would become known as the "Western Front" of World War One; the so-called "Battle of the Frontiers" that officially includes everything from the first shots fired on 1 AUG 1914 to the first day of the First Battle of the Marne, 5 SEP.

Part One - the geopolitical and diplomatic run-up to war - is here, Part Two (German war planning) is here, and Part Three (French war planning) is here.

Remember that the hypothesis of our study is that among the, or possibly the - most critical elements of how the battles in August turned out was that either:
1) The two sides' plans - from tactical to operational and possibly even to the level of strategy - made some assumptions about their ability to gather intelligence once the shooting started that were wrong, and which meant that those plans miscarried because they were formed on incorrect assumptions.

Or?

2) That the tactical conditions had changed, far beyond the ability of even the cleverest plans to account for them. Was the problem that the older means and methods of reconnaissance - horse cavalry and light infantry - and security were just no longer effective in the tactical environment of 1914, and the new techniques - air reconnaissance - un- or under-developed to the point where the commanders didn't receive (or were unable to process) the intelligence.

But to talk about this sensibly we need to first explore those people (and their organizations, equipment, and training) whose job it was to "run and find out", the eyes of the armies; the reconnaissance (and counter-reconnaissance) units.

We're going to take them in order of seniority; first the infantry, then the cavalry, then the fliers also in order of lighter-than-air (airships and zeppelins) to heavier-than-air craft.

Because of the size of this topic we're going to split them out even further.

This post we'll look on the ground, at infantry and cavalry scouts. The next post - 4b - will cover things that fly.

With that, let's begin with the

Infantry

The first group - the "light" infantry scouts - we can dispense with briefly, because by 1914 their days as a collector of intelligence and reconnaissance beyond their immediate vicinity had long since gone.

There had been "light infantry" units going back to Alexander's peltasts and Scipio's velites

But gunpowder, and more specifically the inaccuracy of the smoothbore musket that took over from edged weapons in the late 1400s, meant packing the joes into dense masses so they could actually hit anything. 

For about the next two hundred years or so infantrymen fought mostly as close-ordered groups. The relative handful of specialized "light" units were guys like these guys...

...chasseurs alpins, trained to fight only in specialized terrain like mountains or forests.

Then, at the end of the 18th Century:

1) The British Army encountered the topographic and tactical conditions of North America, and

2) The French Army was torn apart by revolution and reassembled in a scrambling fashion.

Both experiences resulted in the creation of large, organized units of light infantrymen; the British Army largely through the efforts of Sir John Moore at his Shorncliffe training camp in the early 1800s, the French Army as a result of the mob of "sans-culottes" whose random lack of old school linear discipline fastened onto the light infantry experiments that the royal army had begun in the mid-18th Century to create swarms of light infantry.

It was these French lights - chasseurs (literally "hunters"), voltigeurs, and tirailleurs - who made the strongest impression on other European armies.

The French revolutionary infantry tactics and the imperial light infantry that evolved from them were characterized by a mass of light troops preceding the heavy infantry blocks. These included the full battalion-sized units of infantrie legere as well as the light companies (usually called voltageurs instead of chasseurs) of the line units.

These guys fought alone, in pairs, or in small groups, using what cover and concealment they could to harass and disrupt (meaning wound and kill people in) enemy infantry formations, breaking cohesion and morale to open opportunities for the French line battalions coming up behind them.

By 1815 all the European armies had some version of this; British Light and Rifle battalions, Prussian jägers and schutzen, Russian jager, and Austrian Grenz and jäger units.

But.

All these guys were purely short-range and tactical. They couldn't move faster than a fast man could run, and had all the other limitations of infantry; the heavy load of weapons and equipment that had to be carried by each individual, their observation range that of the Mark I eyeball at the tallest man's height.

Through the 19th Century improvement in rifle and artillery range and accuracy meant that soon all infantrymen needed to move as individuals or small groups, not just the lights.

So by 1914, the distinction between "light" and "line" infantrymen had become largely notional, expressed in the blue trousers of the chasseurs in place of the line dogs' red...

...or the leather caps of the jäger in place of the spiked helmet of the line infantry landser;

Infantry formations still typically sent out a screen of patrols to the front and flanks, but their role in even tactical reconnaissance was pretty minimal.

So on the ground that left the...

Cavalry

About the same 19th Century time as the line and light infantry organizations were formalized in European armies the horsemen were being sorted out, too.

On the one hand were the "heavy" cavalry, the big men on big horses whose job was to ride into - and over - enemy infantry, cavalry, and artillery units. These "shock" cavalry units included the last armored horsemen in Europe, called cuirassiers from their metal armored vest. 

All the continental armies had some version of these guys, called kurassier in Germany (and Austria) though only the French - as the photo shows - wore the cuirass into the field in 1914.

Other "heavy" cavalry included for formerly-not-quite-cavalry (we talked about this back in 2017 when we looked at the 1683 Siege of Vienna) called some kind of "dragoon", as well as mounted carabaniers, which by the 19th Century were practically indistinguishable from cuirassiers.

Other names for heavy cavalry were "Garde du Corps" (that is, "bodyguard" or household cavalry - the British did, in fact, have a "Life Guard" heavy cavalry) and "Schwere-Reiter" literally "Heavy Rider" but effectively "Heavy Cavalry".

At least in theory these guys were supposed to charge, sword in hand, in 1914 just as they had in 1814.

The other hand were the "light" cavalry. These guys were the original cavalry scouts, whose job was out front of the army in advance, to find the enemy force (and to fight off the enemy light cavalry who were trying to do the same thing), to the flanks to detect the approach of enemies from that vulnerable direction, as well as behind the army in retreat to screen and delay pursuit.

This light horseman was probably most dashingly embodied in the hussar units:

These are French but every continental army had them. The British Army for some odd reason, refused to get into the hussar business until well into the Napoleonic Wars, preferring to call their light horsemen "light dragoons".

The German Army of 1914 also had something called a Jäger zu Pferde, technically by the meaning of the term a mounted light infantryman but supposedly pure light cavalry by August of that year.

The French Army also had "Chasseurs a Cheval", who were just what the name implies, as well as "Chevau-Légers" - "light horse" - and "Chevau-Légers Lanciers", light lance-armed horsemen.

The German and Austrian armies had their own versions of this lancer, called a uhlan (or ulan in Austria). And that's part of an interesting story about the opening of World War One.

Because for some reason - I can't find any explanation for it - the German Army issued all their horsemen a lance in 1889. 

I'm not sure if the kurassier and dragoon units retained their swords; officers and some NCOs surely did, and enlisted troopers in all units were issued a carbine version of the standard infantry Gewehr 98 rifle, the Karabiner Model 1898 AZ

But the result is that for British and French soldiers ALL German horsemen were "uhlans".

We'll go into this in detail in a bit, but by 1914 the distinction between "heavy" and "light" cavalry had eroded. 

The cuirassiers and dragoons were expected to scout along with the hussars and lancers. And both were expected to charge home when the opportunity presented itself.

The two types sprang from very different histories and maintained very different traditions, though, and it's my suspicion that that affected their performance in 1914; we're going to talk about that further down the page.

The general idea, though, seems to be that the cavalry units would use their horses for grand tactical (at least!) mobility, ranging out in front of the infantry columns. When they made contact, well...I think the idea was to try and scout from horseback like these guys...

...but the reality of modern rifles kicked in quickly. To stay alive the cavalrymen would have to dismount and sneak forward on foot, leaving the noble steeds (hopefully) in some safe defilade somewhere.

Remember, the portable radio was decades away. Once the recon troopers had counted enemy heads and scribbled down equipment numbers and type the report would have to be galloped back to the nearest telephone relay or big radio transmitter being carted around by the corps-or-higher headquarters element, and we'll go into where these were in a bit.

And, don't forget, the idea was that the forward cavalry patrols would also fight off enemy cavalry which was trying to find their opposing infantry main force units.

It was a big ask, and we should talk about who it was being asked of.

Cavalry Organization

Let's look at the mounted arm of the four militaries that met in the frontiers of France, Germany, and Belgium in August, starting with the smallest:

Belgium

The small Belgian Army - about 200,000 all arms - had a total of ten, or eleven, "regiments" of cavalry. 

I use the scare quotes because I'm having trouble finding a source that breaks down the regimental organization further, so I'm not sure exactly how these units would have been deployed.

For example, a typical German cavalry regiment - let's pick one, say the Königlich Bayerisches Ulanen-Regiment "Kaiser Wilhelm II., König von Preußen“ Nr. 1 a Bavarian Uhlan unit with an authorized strength of about 700 troops (all ranks) in August 1914 meaning that a German cavalry "regiment"...

...was the equivalent of an infantry battalion, rather than an infantry "regiment" which could, and often did, have two or more battalions.

This regiment would have been broken down into squadrons - the cavalry equivalent of an infantry company - of about 150 to 175; the uhlans had four of these eskadronen, but a regiment could have up to six,

(The cocky youngster to the left is one Franz von Grafenstein of the above-named outfit, looking like nothing but trouble.)

The squadron, in turn, broke down into four platoons (Zug in German) that had an even smaller sort of "squad" subunits divided by rank and file.

But the sources I DO have don't break the Belgians down, so I have to guess that their cavalry "regiments" were similar battalion-size units, between 500 to 700 strong with internal squadrons and platoons.

Given the reported condition of the Belgian Army I suspect that the Belgian horsemen were, at best, equipped with a rifle - the Belgian Army history site says that "The Guides and Lancers Regiments were armed with a short version of the Mauser 1889, a sabre and a lance." - but lacked anything heavier; no machineguns or attached artillery.

It's worth noting that the Belgians, at least, had quit kidding themselves about the whole "heavy" cavalry nonsense.

There were no Belgian cuirassiers. All Belgian cavalry were "light"; lancers, chasseurs, or "guides" (these were the "household cavalry" of the Belgian royals).


The one thing the Belgians did that the major combatants also did was divide their cavalry into "tactical" and "strategic" elements.

The "tactical" cavalry units were the individual regiments assigned to the infantry divisions. There were six, one per division, whose mission was scouting and screening for the infantry and artillery of their division. Here's an organizational chart for the first four divisions:

So the First Division commander depended on the 3rd Lancers to be his eyes and ears, as well as keeping the enemy cavalry off his guys' asses.

Note that I've added the "(Infantry)" tag to the first two divisions because that's what they were. But the Belgians didn't actually work that way; these were just "divisions" - "First Division", "Second Division", and so on.

But.

There was a seventh division, only it wasn't a "division" like the other six. 

It was the "strategic" cavalry outfit, the "Cavalry Division":

Note the other four cavalry regiments were assigned to the Cavalry Division, as well as a "mounted" version of the artillery regiment that all the other divisions had in "foot" form (meaning that the horse artillery gunners rode while the regular redlegs walked; the guns and the ammo limbers for both had horse teams for prime movers).

The idea was that the "Cavalry Division" would screen and scout for the whole Army while the divisional cavalry would do the same for their divisions, like this:

That was the idea, anyway, but when the Belgian Army mobilized in August 1914 it looked like this:

See the problem?

The supposed "strategic" recon and security guys are way the hell west and north of where they should be:

What can I say? That there's a reason there are few Belgians in the "Great Captains of History" stories?

You get the idea, though. The pre-August-1914 thinking was that the horse soldiers would do what they'd always done; find the enemy, figure out what they were up to, report back, while fighting off the enemy cavalry that were trying to do the same things.

So. Let's look at the cavalry forces of the three real players in this game, starting with...

Germany

We looked at the German cavalry regiment just above. But where did those cavalry regiments go?

Divisional Cavalry?

Yep. The lowest level of "tactical" cavalry showed up in the infantry divisions, which each had a cavalry regiment:

So, for example, the 8th Infantry Division (part of IV.Armeekorps in First Army) included:   15.Infanterie-Brigade:
        Füsilier-Regiment General-Feldmarschall Graf Blumenthal (1. Magdeburgisches) Nr. 36
        Anhaltisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 93
        Magdeburgisches Jäger-Bataillon Nr. 4
16.Infanterie-Brigade:
        4. Thüringisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 72
        8. Thüringisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 153
 "1/2" Magdeburgisches Husaren-Regiment Nr. 10
 8. Feldartillerie-Brigade:
        Torgauer Feldartillerie-Regiment Nr. 74
        Mansfelder Feldartillerie-Regiment Nr. 75
 2./Magdeburgisches Pionier-Bataillon Nr. 4
 3./Magdeburgisches Pionier-Bataillon Nr. 4

The hussars were the last remnant of what had been a full brigade of cavalry; here's the the 8th ID MTO&E in 1913:
15.Infanterie-Brigade:
        Füsilier-Regiment General-Feldmarschall Graf Blumenthal (1. Magdeburgisches) Nr. 36
        Anhaltisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 93
 16.Infanterie-Brigade:
        4. Thüringisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 72
        8. Thüringisches Infanterie-Regiment Nr. 153
 8. Kavallerie-Brigade
        Kürassier-Regiment von Seydlitz (Magdeburgisches) Nr. 7
        Thüringisches Husaren-Regiment Nr. 12

 8. Feldartillerie-Brigade
        Torgauer Feldartillerie-Regiment Nr. 74
        Mansfelder Feldartillerie-Regiment Nr. 75
    Landwehr-Inspektion Haale an der Saale

As the division's Wiki entry notes: "On mobilization in August 1914...most divisional cavalry, including brigade headquarters, was withdrawn to form cavalry divisions or split up among divisions as reconnaissance units", so the Madgeburg Hussars were all that remained of the 8th ID's tactical recon and security element.

(As the photo above shows, the German hussars were the only Imperial cavalry to wear something other than some sort of helmet. The fuzzy hat - called a "busby" in English and typically a "kolpak" in German - was the traditional headgear of the original Hungarian hussars and spread from there across Europe.)

Army Corps Cavalry?

Interestingly enough, a German Armeekorps had no organic cavalry:

As the above diagram shows, the TO&E included cavalry brigades attached to the corps-level units, but that in practice the cavalry was either not present or, at best, what the US Army would describe as "opcon", giving the corps tactical direction of the cavalry unit(s) but not logistical or organizational support.

So tactical cavalry at the division level - a bit, one regiment per division - but normally nothing at corps. 

How about...

Armee (Field Army) Cavalry?

Well...this is where things get interesting.

The Imperial Army in the West did have cavalry units at the Army level...sort of.

Imperial HQ - as described in the division comments above - broke up the cavalry brigades assigned to the divisions. A handful stayed. But what about these "cavalry divisions", and why weren't they assigned to a corps?

Because...they were grouped, instead, into their own corps; the HKK.

Note: There seems to be some disagreement about what this acronym stands for. The English translation is usually given as "Higher Cavalry Command", but I've seen it spelled in German as "Heereskavalleriekorps" - which doesn't mean the same thing. "Heeres" means "armies", so "Army - or, more correctly, Armies - Cavalry Corps"...except in German a "corps" is usually termed a "armeekorps". or "Höherer Kavallerie-Kommando" which gives the correct German for "higher" but which swaps out "corps" for "kommando" which can mean "unit" (as in a military unit) or "command" (as in "high command"; the German term for the overall military HQ in the Second World War was "Oberkommando der Wehrmacht", abbreviated "OKW". 

The latter matches the English translation better, so makes more sense to me in terms of what the Imperial Army meant by these things.

Here's an organizational chart for the entire Imperial Army in the West. The HKK cavalry corps are outlined in red:

Each HKK contained two (or three for HKK 2 and HKK 3) cavalry divisions, which were full divisions; 12 cavalry regiments (HKK 1 had 14 because it included the 8-regiment Guard Cavalry) and "divisional troops" like horse artillery, engineers ('pioniere" in German), signal - including radio commo - and machinegun units.

Curiously the HKK itself had no "corps troops" directly under the flagpole; no corps artillery or engineer or signals units as was typical of the Imperial armeekorps (or the British corps and French corps d'armee).

What the HKK did have - for wartime, anyway - were attached light infantry units.

We've discussed these jäger infantry just above, but the cavalry jägers included bicycle and truck-transport mobility to keep up with the horses. HKK 2 had five battalions of light infantry, HKK 1 had three, the other two had two battalions each.

These light infantrymen added a serious punch to the German strategic cavalry corps.

These HKK cavalry corps were parceled out to several of the Imperial field armies, but not in the way you'd think given the 1914 operational plan. 

Given the way the "big right hook" demanded a rapid swing through Belgium and envelopment of the French (and British, presumably) left that the logical way to divvy up the HKKs would look like this:

The right wing armies SHOULD have had the vast bulk of the "strategic" cavalry. The "big" reconnaissance work was out there on the German right, with First and, to a lesser degree, Second Armies. Give them operational control of the strongest cavalry corps, HKK 1 and HKK 2, and maybe even HKK 3.

Third Army might have call on HKK 3 - Third was part of the "hinge", after all - but the other left-center and left flank armies could all share one; their reconnaissance needs would be primarily tactical anyway.

Instead, here's how the Imperial General Staff allocated the cavalry corps:

You can see the problem.

We'll talk a lot about this in the parts of this series yet to come.

So German Cavalry all tolled?

"Strategic reconnaissance" cavalry: 60 regiments in 10 cavalry divisions in 4 cavalry corps (with 12 attached jäger battalions) opconned to the field army commands..but not in a particularly sensible way.

"Tactical reconnaissance " cavalry: 44 regiments (including several split into 3-squadron half-regiments) in 50 infantry divisions.

The other "big" player along the frontiers was, of course,

France

The French cavalry included the traditional "heavy" cavalry; cuirassiers and dragoons - indeed, the French cuirassiers were the last horsemen in Europe to go to war wearing their antique armored breastplate (albeit covered with a cloth cover to dull the fatal shine) - and the "lights"; chasseurs and hussars.

French horsemen were armed and equipped similar to their European counterparts; typically a long straight-bladed sword and a rifle, in this case the Carabine de Cavalerie Modèle 1890, a five-round clip-loaded weapon similar to the German Kar98AZ.

Peculiarly, French dragoons carried a lance to war in 1914 despite having no tradition of such prior to the period. I'm not sure why, perhaps it was in response to the sort of goofy army order that issued every German horse soldier a pig-sticker in 1889.

Go figure.

Similar to the Belgian and German armies, the French cavalry was based on a "regiment" that was effectively battalion-size (about 500-800 all ranks) composed of four to five company-sized "squadrons" which had further platoon-sized internal subdivisions.

However, the French Army seems to have had a very different idea of dividing up their mounted troops. Unlike the Germans, where cavalry bypassed the armeekorps and jumped from division straight to field army, French maneuver units at almost every level above the infantry brigade had their own assigned organic cavalry element:

At least in theory, the French Army of 1914 was better set up for tactical reconnaissance above division level. 

At corps the German armeekorps of two infantry divisions could throw one to two cavalry regiments - call it 1500 troopers or so - out in front, while a French corps d'armee could field between 2 regiments - assuming two divisions - up to 4 regiments, something like 2,000-2,500 horsemen.

Above corps, though, the Germans were better fixed for strategic reconnaissance assuming that the Imperial field army had a HKK out front - that added between 12 and 14 cavalry regiments plus light infantry and all the cavalry divisional troops like field horse artillery and radio commo guys. 

The French had a single Cavalry Corps for the entire Western Front; 18 regiments in three divisions.

The actual performance of all these horsemen, though...well, we'll get there.

First, let's look at the last of the "big" combatants (though they were "big" only in relation to the Belgians),

Great Britain

The "British Expeditionary Force" wasn't quite an ad-hoc outfit thrown together for the outbreak of continental European war...but it was close. 

The original British mobilization plan called for the infantry divisions - six, of three brigades each of four battalion-sized infantry regiments for a total of 72 battalions - and the single 12-regiment cavalry division to be run directly by the CG BEF.

That was hastily ruled impractical, and a corps structure was improvised for the infantry.

The result was a "corps" lacking reconnaissance assets, more similar to a German armeekorps than its French ally.

Each infantry division had a single squadron of light cavalry, corps had nothing, and the field army had a total of 15 cavalry regiments; 12 in the cavalry division and three in an independent brigade. 

British cavalrymen came in similar flavors to the French and German varieties, with one significant exception: no cuirassiers/kurassier

Well, the British did sorta-kinda have this type of formerly-armored horsemen, in the form of the two "Household Cavalry" regiments, the Life Guard and Royal Horse Guard.

You've seen them, riding around London or pulling guard outside Buckingham Palace dressed up all pretty and shiny with the nose-poking helmets.

The ones in red are the "Life Guards" and they're the ranking unit in the Royal Army, the folks who preceded everyone...

(except the Royal Horse Artillery when they parade with their cannon, he's reminded by the Military Pedant)

...and are followed directly by the similarly-outfitted-only-with-a-blue-jacket. These used to be the Horse Guards, known for their coats as "The Blues"...

(the Horse Guard was merged with a line cavalry regiment in 1969 to become the "Blues and Royals" today)

...whose attitude was probably just as snotty as the Life Guard towards the other not-guard-units.

But the numbers were tiny compared to the rest of the cavalry, so the whole "armored heavy cavalry" thing (as we'll discuss in just a bit) was much less of a thing in the BEF compared to France and Germany.

The other British cavalry included dragoons on the "heavy" side, and lancers and hussars as "lights".

This is probably a good time to break in and discuss these cavalry "weights" and what they might have meant in 1914

Heavies versus Lights - 1914

As we discussed earlier, by 1914 the two mounted unit groupings had been forced closer together in battlefield tactics and techniques by magazine-fed bolt-action rifles, machineguns, and quick-firing artillery.

But.

Although I can't find anything specific, my guess is that both unit type/tradition and national experience resulted in some differences in cavalry reconnaissance and screening effectiveness in August.

Cuirassiers

The heaviest of the heavy cavalry were the cuirassiers of France, the kurassier of Germany, and the household cavalry of the BEF.

All were the tanks of the mounted arm, and all were probably the closest tactically and mentally to the "sword-in-hand-mounted-charge" standard of the 19th Century. 

The war service of 1866 and 1870 hadn't entirely shaken the continental cavalry of the old ways; events like "von Bredow's Death Ride" at Rezonville in 1870 convinced many observers that the old mounted charge was still a workable tactic.

That would have been just nuts to the armor-vested (or, at least, in their imaginations still armored) troopers. 

So my guess is that German and French cuirassier units were merely "okay" at scouting and screening. Their thing was riding down enemies, not sneaking around spying on them.

The Germans had 14 regiments of kuirassier or similar heavy cavalry (out of about 100 cavalry regiments overall), the French had 12 out of about 80 regiments all tolled. The British technically had two, but only a single composite regiment of Guards landed in August among the 15 regiments in the BEF.

Dragoons

By 1914 these guys had come a long way.

As we talked about above and in the linked Vienna post, they got their start as sort-of-mounted-infantry, the red-headed stepchild of the cavalry. In 1600 nobody in his right military mind would have sicc'd mounted dragoons on real cavalry; the dragoons would have been considered lucky just to have stayed in the saddle.

By 1700, though, things were changing, and by 1800 most dragoons were pretty much your basic medium-to-heavy-cavalry...but they were still trained to, and could, scout and skirmish on foot.

By 1900, well, most armies had more of them than any other type of mounted troops; the German cavalry included 28 regiments of dragoner, the French 32 dragoon outfits, and the BEF five of their 15 regiments were some sort of dragoon.

 In 1914 "dragoon" was kind of the default cavalry setting.

My guess is that these units were fairly effective scouts, and could screen pretty well, too. Perhaps not quite as well as the light cavalrymen, but sort of the "median" recon-and-security outfit for the time.

Chasseurs, "Light Horse", Lancers, Uhlans

These units were the median light cavalry the way the dragoons were the median heavies.

Their "traditional" (i.e. 18th and 19th Century) role was, as we discussed, reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance, so presumably they trained on it more and were better at it than the heavies. 

The French Army had 19 regiments of chasseurs a cheval, the Germans 8 of "chevau-legers". France had no remaining lance cavalry but Germany had a truckload - 24 regiments of uhlans - and the British had four lancer regiments.

Hussars

The quintessential light horseman, scout, and raider. France fielded 13 regiments, Germany 21, and the British five.

There was another factor that would have impacted the cavalry's performance, though; national experience.


France and Germany versus Britain

British cavalry had living memory of fighting an enemy armed with modern 1914-style rifles in the Boers of southern Africa, and not a happy one.

The Wikipedia entry on the British cavalry's experience does a good job of explaining this:

"Their Boer opponents taught not only the cavalry but the whole army some lessons. In one engagement at Dronfield, 150 Boers held off the British cavalry division, which was then supported by several artillery batteries, and at Bergendal 74 men held up the entire British Army. So effective were their tactics that they forced the British cavalry, if only for a short time, to leave their swords and lances behind and concentrate on their firepower. This proved to the British Army the value of a full size rifle over a carbine. Soon the cavalry were practising working dismounted and advancing in open order."

They'd learned the hard way; when your enemy can reliably hit a man-sized target at several hundred meters a horse-sized target is almost unmissable.

This drove the British to several doctrinal changes that the continental cavalry did not adopt, including tactical emphasis on dismounted fire that was made more effective through more range time and the issue of a battle rifle (the British horsemen were the only cavalrymen to carry their infantry's service rifle instead of a specialty carbine).

In fact as noted in Herrmann (1996) one of the continental criticisms of the British horsemen of the pre-war years was their supposed aversion to coming to handstrokes. In other words, the British cavalry were entering the 20th Century while the others - Belgium, France, and Germany - still lingered largely in the 19th.

We'll see whether and, if so, how much of a difference this made.

But first...


Next: Those Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines or How I Flew from London to Paris in 25 Hours 11 Minutes...

Monday, August 19, 2024

Sporting my canvas

Quick personal update as I scrounge for source materials on 1914 reconnaissance.

The divorce proceedings move on, with the "settlement" (the draft of the final decree) being in process. Nothing dramatic, just the slow dissolution of twenty-two years. Sad. I already miss my wife, and to a great extent, my kids. Even the cat.

And, to a surprisingly great extent, my old house. Where, in one of those "what the fuck..?" things, I ended up back working, taking down the old fence we built decades ago. Here's what the front of the house looked like in April 2003, several years after we moved in:

That's the left front of the house looking northwest. The former owner had planted tulips all along the top of the retaining wall that the cats are inspecting. Here's the opposite corner:

Some time in the next couple of years we built a picket fence along the wall, both to keep The Boy and Quinn the dog from catapulting off the edge. Here's the same corner as in the second photo above in March 2007:

We're already working to change up the suburban dream; the bulbs are still there, but we've planted a couple of natives. Pacific wax myrtle in the corner and the vinca at the base of the dogwood is already beginning to crowd out the non-native stuff. 

The fence outlasted Quinn and the Boy's random running days, but not time and the Northwest weather. It was a good fence. But it was time for it to go.

So...

Wednesday while Mojo was at work and the grown children doing...something, I drove around with wrecking bar and power drill and sawsall.

The panels came off and took a one-way trip to the Metro dump...

The Girl asked me to save the posts; she says she wants to run espalier wires or a trellis. So I took only the two interior posts, and replaced the rotting bannister on the lower steps, then painted everything with that thick "Kilz" anti-mildew paint.

 Panels off, pre-paint:

And post-paint:


Drachma, the idiot, insisted on sleeping in the work area. Of course, he got painted (a bit) too...

Thursday afternoon it was all done, painted and pretty:

And then I took my soon-to-be-ex-wife out for a beer.

It's...very weird. I really LIKE her. A lot. More and more I'm missing Mojo the friend, the good companion, the funny one, the salty, smart, wisecracking long time sharer of confidences, hopes, fears, and dreams.

Lovers? Those come and go.

But friends? Real good, solid, dependable, heartfelt friends like her?

Goddamn it, they're beyond price.

Well.

Last weekend I had my first political ground-game work; canvassing in the spendy Southwest Lake Oswego district. Hours of pounding pavement and ringing doorbells. Nice houses, polite people.

But.

My first encounter with The Portland Voter In The Wild was...not reassuring.

Lots of "well, I'm not really sure..." and "I'm pretty much an independent..." as if this November wasn't a black-and-white choice between a bog-standard corporaDem and a raving headcase of a lunatic egotistical madman and his pack of loony little fascist running dogs intent on a New Gilded Age.

What the fuck, over?

I'm back at it this coming weekend, too. Plus writing postcards (?) to hesitant voters.

Which is nice. But I'm getting to the point where I want to be throwing fucking bombs, not writing fucking postcards. I can barely open the news without losing my composure. It's not enough to "beat" these goddamn people. The GOP needs to be destroyed, root and branch, burnt hull and sticks, plowed under and the ground sown with fucking salt.

Oh.

And as a reminder that I'm Old, between all the canvas walking and being a good lad and riding the stationary bike once I got back in my legs thanked me by spasming and cramping so badly I was up half Saturday night and slept through kendo practice Sunday morning.

Ugh.

The only thing worse than aging is the alternative.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Decisive Battles: Frontiers 1914 - Part 3: Plans, Plans, and More Plans

We're up to the third part of our series on the August 1914 "Battle of the Frontiers". Part 1 (Origins of the 1914 Crises) is here, Part 2 (German War Plans) is here.

Now we're going to look at the "other side of the hill", the evolution of the French operational planning that culminated in the actions the French Army performed in the opening moves of World War 1.

However...

In France, perhaps more than any of the other Powers, political considerations affected the military preparations for what would become The Great War. So before we talk about soldiers and operations, we have to talk about...

France Between The Wars: Revolution and Counterrevolution

19th Century France was, like many nations, rife with factions large and small. Unlike many nations, however, those factions had gone to war in France, beginning - at least, in open battle - in 1789.

The events of the Revolution made political opponents into mortal enemies. 

For over the next century the accusation of treason to the nation because of allegiance to faction, whether "conservative" (which in post-Revolutionary France largely meant either royalist or Catholic or, most likely, both) or "radical" (ranging from bourgeois Republican through socialist to, after the mid-century, communist).

These factions could make truce for a time, and when national (or international) events were fairly placid. In times of crisis, however, or where certain matters were concerned, that truce was shaky at best and fragile to broken at worst.

The French political Right had the grievance of the original Red Terror of the 18th Century to nurture. For the Left, it was the events of La Semaine Sanglante, "Bloody Week", of May 1871.

The Wikipedia entry for "Paris Commune" does fairly decent work summarizing the events, but the tl:dr is that after the defeat at Sedan destroyed the legitimacy of the Second Empire, and the German siege of Paris that followed in the late autumn of 1870 and winter of 1871 shredded the remaining political standing of the middle- and upper-class French who had supported the Empire, many of the citizens of Paris, and the citizen-soldiers of the Garde Nationale, had had their bellyful of empires, emperors, priests, and princes.

 
They rebelled, and set up their own Republic in the winter and early spring of 1871.

Which lasted all of nine weeks or so, from March to May, 1871, until the regular Army broke through the Communard defenses and took the city by storm.

(This is what a real barricade looks like, BTW)

It made for a great book (and a Tony Award-winning musical)...

(This looks more sexy on stage, though, so.)

...but the vicious legacy of the Red-on-White butchery of 1789 was now countered by the White-on-Red massacres of 1871.

The two factions were, if anything, more implacable than ever.

Why Are We Talking About This #$%&!!#! Political Stuff?

Because in France between 1870 and 1914 the Army was the rope in a political tug-of-war.

Most specifically, the Army as a political objective of the factions; as a standing force of regular soldiers versus "the nation in arms", the volunteers and reservists.

To grossly simplify, the Regular Army was "right"; conservative, often Catholic, even royalist. Regular officers were unsurprisingly politically conservative, regular soldiers could be counted on - as they had in May 1871 - to fire on anyone they were told to shoot.

A large regular Army was, therefore, considered by almost all French political factions, to be an instrument of "conservative" power.

The "not-regulars"; everyone from reservists to civilians who, in Republican mythos, would stream to the tricolor when La Patrie was En Danger, were not. They would be at heart civilian and as such more sympathetic to, and protective of, the political "left", as the National Guard had been to the Paris Commune.


The general idea was that the longer the regular officers had their dickbeaters on Jacques the more likely he was to be willing to shoot Cosette and Marius.

So the political left wanted a small regular Army and a short active-duty stint for the reserves. The political right wanted a bigger standing force and a longer active term.

The two main factions pulled the Army rope this way and that depending on their power in government and the dangers from abroad, and that's our next stop.

French Military Planning and Technical Development, 1871-1891

Obviously the first order of business for Third Republic France was to get the goddamn Boche out of the picture. 

The five billion franc indemnity imposed by the Treaty of Frankfurt that ended the Franco-Prussian War was paid off ahead of schedule. The Army was reorganized and reconstituted, with the obvious end of being prepared for the rematch.

The "conservative" service obligation - five years with the regular army - remained in place after 1872 as part of this rebuilding.

The first decade after Sedan were dominated by a defensive posture. The Sere de Rivieres forts formed the basis of French military planning. This included a big program of railway construction; one of the big shortcomings of the Second Empire's "Systeme D" haphazard military "planning" had been the primitive infrastructure of metropolitan France.

This process took time. Rail lines between the interior and the frontiers, including the fortress complexes of Verdun and Belfort, were constructed between 1870 and the mid- to late-1880s. 

French infantry, which with the Fusil modèle 1866 "Chassepot" rifle had proved effective when well led in 1870, was still effective when well led and even moreso when the magazine-fed bolt-action M93 Fusil Modèle 1886 "Lebel" replaced the chassepot.

In the middle of this period the French left got the service obligation period reduced to three years in 1889

The French artillery, whose 18th Century muzzle-loading cannon had been brutally outclassed by the German Krupp steel breechloaders, received the first massive improvement in cannon since the système Gribeauval of 1765; the Matériel de 75 mm Mle 1897 or "French 75".

 


The key to the effectiveness of the "soixante-quinze" was simple; a hydraulic piston.

The biggest problem with artillery fire is just getting a damn round on target. 

After all, you're anywhere from several thousand meters to several kilometers (the maximum range of the French 75mm is about 11 kilometers or so; maximum effective range about 8500 to 9500 meters) and you're hucking a round that has small individual manufacturing imperfections down a barrel with some unknown degree of wear using a propellant that may be slightly warmer or cooler, or more or less abundant than what's in the previous or the next round.

Then, under the pre-soixante-quinze rules, once you have, say, put that first round inside the target - good for you! - you have a big problem.

Your whole cannon - barrel, trail, wheels and all - has responded to the action of firing the round with the equal-and-opposite-reaction of "recoil"; the whole thing has jumped (or rolled) in the opposite direction of the round. 

All that laborious alignment and positioning and leveling and aiming you did for the first round? 

Shot to fucking hell and gone; now you have to manually push the thing back into what you hope is close to where it was, and then hope that the next round isn't too much heaver or lighter, its propellant not much warmer or colder, the shell not much less or more cylindrical, and the bore not much more badly worn, than the first round.

The "75" solved these problems by isolating the cannon barrel from the carriage on a sliding frame, and then added a piston - as shown above - to return the barrel to battery after each round. It didn't fix all the other little problems with things like barrel wear, round imperfections, and propellant variability...but those were small compared to having the fucking cannon leaping around like a fucking trout.

Suddenly French redlegs could count on - once they'd put a round on target; still a bit of work - quickly putting the next bunch of rounds on the same target.

You can see what a big deal that is.

This "quick-firing" artillery was military lightning in a bottle. All armies realized they needed one, and got to work developing one.

And, of course, there was also Hiram Maxim's nasty little 1884 invention...

To me here's the most interesting part of all this.

Today we tend to look at all these weapons - the magazine rifle, the machinegun, the recoil-buffered "quick-firing" cannon - combined with barbed wire and defensive entrenchments and see how they seem to make the trenches and defensive dominance of 1914-1918 that we think of when we think of "World War 1" inevitable.

At the time, though? A LOT of people, including a lot of military planners, saw them as offensive magic.

Moving quickly into position the artillery could lay down suppressive fire to cover the infantry move into firing position, where the volume of direct fire from bolt-action rifles and machineguns would tear open the enemy infantry lines for the final onset of bayonets.

So it's not too shocking that the French 1891 Plan XI proposed a counteroffensive into Germany after the initial German attack was stopped at the frontier forts. 

From there geopolitics began to intrude as well.

1892 to 1904: Plan XII to Le vengeur and Tangier

In Part 1 we talked about the big continental-European realignment of the late 19th Century; the German failure to renew the "Reinsurance Treaty" and the subsequent Russian deal with France.

With the promise of all that Russian steamrollering in East Prussia the prospects for a French offensive to take back the 1871 losses seemed more favorable. The 1892 Plan XII proposed considering a quick strike into Germany first. The primary plan was still defense-counteroffensive...but the thought was there.

But.

There was another thought in there, too.

Remember how Schileffen was thinking of a scenic detour though Belgium in the 1890s?

The French war planners had kinda the same thought. Since the best way through a line of forts was around them, well...the rumors out of Germany got them thinking.

Between 1892 and the opening half-decade of the 20th Century French military thinking continued along the defense-first lines. I can't find much information, even down to the dates, for war plans XIII and XIV, other than the cursory observation that they "...remained defensive-offensive, French attacks being expected after the repulse of a German invasion." (per the Wikipedia piece for Plan XVII). 

I do have a bit more information on Plan XIV which we'll discuss after talking about what I know about the enormous event that exploded France in 1894; l'affaire Dreyfus.


1894 Interlude - L'affaire Dreyfus

It's hard to describe how badly this mess tore up France.

There's a perfectly good article on the Affair up at the Holocaust Museum site, that notes that the conviction, appeal, and controversy surrounding a Jewish officer...

"...made a powerful impression in France, dividing the country into two camps. The anti-Dreyfusards, comprised of the Catholic Church, the military, and the right wing, clung to the original verdict and exploited antisemitism. They feared that a reversal would lead to a weakening of the military establishment. They were opposed by the Dreyfusards, an alliance of moderate Republicans, Radicals, and Socialists...(who) felt the case had become a test of France's ability to protect truth, justice, and the basic elements of the Rights of Man against the forces of extreme nationalism, antisemitism, and the excessive involvement of the Church in state affairs."
This battle forms the background for the next two decades, and has echoes that continue down to this day, including that the grotesque antisemitism exposed by the Affair - that a thoroughly assimilated Jewish officer could be railroaded on clearly faked "evidence" - helped convince the European Zionists such as Hertzl that there was no safety or security in assimilation.

For France, it was just another coal on the fire of the Left-Right Culture War.

1904-1905: The Invisible Man and the Invisible War

Okay, so. From here to 1914 I got a lot of ideas out of David Herrmann's 1996 The Arming of Europe and the Making of the First World War. It's a useful secondary source, and well worth tracking down. I'll try and give you the gist in outline form.

Between 1904 and 1905:
A German (presumably an officer - he identified himself as a General Staff colonel - but still known only by his pseudonym le Vengeur) met with a French intelligence officer in Liege and sold him the entire 1904 Aufmarsch which included the proposed German violation of Belgian neutrality...

...and...

...the German foreign office staged a confrontation over French activities in Morocco.

These both turned out to be bad news for France.

First, although the Deuxeme Bureau - French military intelligence - considered the Vengeur information valid the French higher generally discounted, or at least failed to take seriously, the purchased Aufmarsch for the following decade.

When you read the tale the supposed German informant did appear ridiculous, turning up in Liege with his face wrapped in bandage and only his mustache poking out. 

But French intelligence had already noted the work the German Eisenbahnbautruppen - their railway units - had put in to extend the German rail system to the Belgian border as well as massive detraining platforms and billeting constructed near the new railheads.

So nothing was done to incorporate this information into French war planning until...wait. We'll get there.

Second, the situation along the border drove home French weakness.

Russia was tied down; losing war in Manchuria and revolution in Moscow and St. Petersburg.

Britain had no way of providing anything but naval support and, as French prime minister Rouvier is attributed as noting "...that English ships have no wheels".

On the frontier the German Army looked like a load, in numbers alone.

Herrmann (1996) says: 

"The General Staff in Paris had abandoned the idea of forming reserve corps and incorporating reserve divisions into the main fighting forces when they designed their 1898 mobilization...Plan XIV...and Plan XV of 1903 grouped them well to the rear...The result was a dramatic numerical advantage for Germany, Twenty-one French corps would face the equivalent of thirty-six German."

 So the French changed things up a bit and not in a good way.

1906: Plan XIV and Who The Hell Are Doing All This Stuff

Before we talk about the changes incorporated in the 1906 war plan, let's look briefly at the French officers doing all this planning, because the French higher organization was kind of weird in a "you're not helping" sort of way.

If Bread is the Staff of Life, What is the Life of The Staff? 

One Long Loaf.

Technically the most senior French military position was the Minister of War (Ministre de la guerre). This guy was normally a very senior officer, but also tended to get replaced like a pair of boots. Here's the Wikipedia page for the period we're looking at, from about 1900 to 1911:

Andre' is the graybeard with nearly four and a half years, down to poor Goiran's one-day-over-two-weeks. 

The bottom line is that these guys were there pretty often to just sign the goddamn form, sir.

The real power lay in two other guys.

While the Minister of War was the notional president of the Conseil supérieur de la guerre, the "Supreme War Council" the officer who really ran the 99.9% of the daily CSG business was the vice-president, whose position was formalized as the Boss of CSG in 1903. 

From 1900 to 1906 it was this guy: Henri Joseph Brugère.

Brugere was a gunner, with war service in 1870. He was mentioned in dispatches in December 1870 for "...enlevé une pièce prussienne sous le feu de l'ennemi.", that is, for capturing a Prussian cannon under enemy fire as a captain in the 15th Artillery.

(Intriguingly, the Wikipedia app translates the phrase une pièce prussienne sous le feu as "a Prussian coin under fire" which had me scratching my head until I switched it back to the original French and the word pièce made sense as "artillery piece".)

Brugere comes across like kind of a hardhead in the historical accounts, but I don't know much else about him other than the role he's described as playing in Herrmann (1996) and what I can get from his French Wikipedia page.

We'll talk about that a bit more after we look at his opposite number in 1905 was the Chef d'État-Major Général de l'Armée - the Chief of the General Staff.

This position was a relative latecomer, set up only in 1871. In 1888 the Chief was pushed into the CSG as a sort of quasi-advisor (he wasn't an official member of the Council) in particular as the director of war plans.

The particular Chief we're looking at is this character; General de division Jean Michel Toussaint Pendézec.

If I don't know much about Brugere I know next to nothing about Pendezec. There's one of those genealogy pages about him that has him being commissioned out of St. Cyr in 1863 (so presumably a very junior officer in 1870) but it adds that he was "Promotion Du Mexique", suggesting that he might have been involved in the Maximilian fiasco there in the late 1860s.

Then nothing until his promotion to two-star general in 1900 and then Chief of Staff in 1903.

So we have our players in place, and, as the Wiki entry notes for the CSG, the organizational chart was practically designed for power struggles between the Vice-president and the Chief. 

Ready? Here we go.

1905: War Plans in the (1905 Moroccan) Crisis

Just like the headline, this section is taken practically intact from Herrmann (1996). I'll try to summarize.

Herrmann (1996) says without demur: "The French general staff's Plan XV provided for the deployment of the whole army on the...Franco-German frontier between Verdun and Belfort. The...difficulty was that Plan XV was wrong about where the enemy would attack."

Here's the accompanying map:

Herrmann (1996) notes that "(t)he only French troops deployed north of Verdun in the Plan XV dispositions were four cavalry divisions."

He goes on to add that Pendezec was stressed about this. Noting the Vengeur intel, the rail and barrack construction, he supported what Herrmann (1996) says was "The operations office (of the General Staff) proposed that Plan XV be modified to deploy some forces further north..."

Supposedly Brugere shot this down, because
1) German mobilization would be too slow to get enough troops to the frontiers, anyway, and
2) the Germans wouldn't use their reserves as forward maneuver units, and
3) he refused to believe the Germans would violate Belgian neutrality so brutally.

Meanwhile in Paris the political Left was pissed off with the outcome of the Morocco Crisis, with the Army's desuetude as revealed in several publications of military issues (particularly a highly negative assessment of the couverture (fortress) units along the eastern border), and with the Right as usual.

The result was a change to the service regulations that reduced the regular army term to two years:

"The Military Law of 1905 has to be highlighted as it established a short but universal service. In the barracks, on the officer’s desk, it meant more diversified recruits with less time to acculturate them with patriotic or sacrificial values, not to speak of tactical skills." (1914-1918 Online, 2014)

And this is supposedly where things stood until March 1906.

1906: Plan XVa?

There's a major divergence in the source materials for the 1906 "revision" of Plan XV.

Herrmann (1996) dismisses it as purely trivial: "The revision of Plan XV...merely redeployed a single army corps to the north of Verdun, spread along the line of the Meuse."

He does note that the 1905 Crisis had prompted the French and British militaries to begin actual discussions for deployment of a British army to France. 

The Wikipedia entry for Plan XVII, though, says this revision was significant:

"Using this windfall (the Vengeur intelligence) and other sources of information, the French adapted Plan XV of 1906, to be ready for a German invasion of Belgium and later plans contained increases in the forces to be assembled to the north and north-east of Verdun."

I'm not sure I buy that, and here's why.

For one, General Brugere was still Vice-president of the CSG, and he was bone-deep against it.

For another, the next big fight over Plan XVI - which we'll discuss immediately below - was all about this issue, suggesting that the previous Plan hadn't settled it or really done much about it.

Which brings us to...

1909 Plan XVI

Okay, now we're really in the deep tules.

I'm going to quote the above Wiki entry for Plan XVII at length, because of it's importance:

"Plan XVI of March 1909, anticipated a German enveloping manoeuvre through Luxembourg and Belgium, after the findings of a 1908 analysis by General Henri de Lacroix, in which he dwelt on the German preference for enveloping manoeuvres and predicted that two German armies would march through eastern Belgium, around the northern flank of the French fortress zone, one to emerge from the Ardennes at Verdun and the other at Sedan. Lacroix wanted to improve the prospects of the usual defensive-offensive strategy by assembling a new Sixth Army near Châlons-sur-Marne, (now Châlons-en-Champagne), 80 km (50 mi) west of Verdun, easily to move towards Toul in the centre, Verdun on the left or to the vicinity of Sedan and Mézières behind the northern flank."

This agrees with the "1914-1918 Online" site which says:

"A defensive-offensive conduct of war was designed by concentrating, amidst an extended initial location of troops from north to south, a central “masse de manoeuvre” allowing the high command to counterattack whatever the enemy undertook (Plan XVI, 1909)"

Okay, now here's the thing, though. De Lacroix wasn't the Chief of Staff, the war plans guy, in 1909. He was in Brugere's spot; Vice-president of the CSG. The Chief at the time of March 1909 was a two-star by the name of Jean Brun, about whom I can find absolutely nothing.

Did de Lacroix ask Brun to work this up? And how do we know this? The source for the Wiki quote it a 2005 work by Robert Doughty: Pyrrhic victory: French Strategy and Operations in the Great War and I can't find any other source cited for this planning.

The Doughty work is fiendishly expensive; in excess of $30 even for the Kindle edition. I punted, picking up a copy of Doughty's essay in the 2010 collection War Planning 1914 (Thompson, ed.).

In his monograph on French planning - although not mentioning the plan number or Lacroix by name - Doughty says:

"With each new plan the French increased the number of forces north and northwest of Verdun. In 1908 they foresaw the Germans sending two armies around the flank of French fortifications and passing through Luxembourg and eastern Belgium. Because they did not know for sure where the Germans might strike...they...chose instead to create a powerful force for a counterattack...Sixth Army..."

Presumably this is the Clif's Notes version of the longer passage cited in the Wiki piece which is probably from the Doughty (2005) work.

So, okay. We've got the idea. Someone - probably Lacroix, or possibly Brun and Lacroix working together - was worried about the left flank and came up with a fix for that.

Herrmann (1996) has a very nice discussion (pages 59-146) on "Military Effectiveness and Modern Technology, 1906-1908" (Chapter 3) as well as the military innovations involved during "The Bosnia-Herzegovina Annexation Crisis and the Recovery of Russian Power, 1908-1911" (Chapter 4). 

It's far too much to summarize here, but Herrman (1996) points out how non-lethal innovations, things like radio, telephone wire, motor vehicles, field kitchens, and aircraft, were a critical part of the military revolution that led to war.

And that brings us up to 

1911: Plan XVI, Michel and Agadir

During the summer and into the autumn of 1911 French military plans and German geopolitics banked off each other like billiard balls.

The foreign policy piece was again set in Morocco, where French demicolonial activity drew German pressure...this time in the form of a German gunboat that turned up at the Moroccan port of Agadir.

The threat implicit in SMS Panther's two little four-inch popguns was that if France objected to the loss of western Morocco it would face the rest of Germany's armed force.

The threat didn't work; the German foreign ministry had counted on the sort of Russian incapacity and British indifference that had forced France to back down in 1905. When the Entente didn't fold, the Germans had to or risk a general war that the Army wasn't ready to fight.

As Herrmann (1996) puts it: 

"Berlin was outvoted diplomatically and could not menace its opponents with war as in 1905 and 1909 because for the first time this would have entailed the risk of a conflict with France, Britain, and Russia all together...which deprived Berlin of the military ascendancy it had grown accustomed to exploiting."

That got Germany scrambling to find ways of reasserting that ascendancy.

Meanwhile, the French military planning was also going through some big changes, largely driven by this guy, appointed head of the CSG in January, Général Victor-Constant Michel.

Michel was even more convinced than de Lacroix that the Germans were going through central Belgium. His Wiki entry does a good job of summing up his proposed fix to Plan XVI, which in the summer of 1911 still 1) mobilized the bulk of the French Army behind the Verdun-Belfort fortress lines and 2) relegated the reserve units to the rear areas.

Worth noting that Michel was considered a "man of the Left"; he'd had significant experience training reservists and trusted them and as such attracted a lot of side-eye from the French Right. 

So in July 1911 when he presented his (with, presumably, either the concurrence or at least benign indifference of Augustin Dubail, the Chief of Staff) proposals for the war plan revision...

"Michel...correctly predicted the main elements of the German Schlieffen Plan. He argued that the major German offensive would probably come through central Belgium...and proposed a new strategy to be called Plan XVII (this is an error in the Wiki entry; the July 1911 meeting proposed to amend Plan XVI).
Michel's plan called for...770,000 men in two "Mass of Maneuver" formations along the Belgian border, backed by a reserve of 220,000 men centered around Paris. The third Mass of Maneuver, of 300,000 men, would be along the German border. In order to field an army of that size, French reserve units would need to be integrated with the active army immediately on mobilization."

...the conservative faction in the CSG (which included the Minister of War, Adolphe-Marie Messimy) haaaaated it.

One innovative part of the Michel proposal was to brigade reserve units one-to-one with the regulars. These "demi-brigades" would, ideally, train together in peacetime to fight together in war.

Messimy and the conservatives - the whole War Council, in fact - hated that, too. So much so that Messimy responded swiftly and dramatically before the end of July.

First, he fired Michel.

Then he completely reorganized the top of the French Army MTO&E.

The positions of "vice-president of the CSG" and "Chief of the Army General Staff" were merged; now one guy would be both, responsible for both technical and tactical Army management and strategic Army planning. 

The then-Chief of Staff (Dubail) was eased into a "Chief of the Army Staff" position as the #2 guy.

This made a lot of sense, regardless of the strategic planning issues. The power struggle between the two positions was not helpful for long- or even short-range planning.

Messimy tapped this guy to be the new boss of the Army; Joseph Jacques Césaire Joffre.

Joffre and the road to Plan XVII

Joffre is a whole story in himself, but to keep things manageable the most salient pieces of him are that he was bright, egotistical, supremely self-confident, and - most importantly - unconvinced that he needed buy-ins from subordinates (or permission from his superiors) to get his missions accomplished.

He was also one of those annoyingly-common professional-officer-in-a-popular-republic types who had already concluded that his biggest problem was nosy political bodies butting into his military business. As Doughty (2010) says: "...he (Joffre) decided not to inform his political superiors or the army commanders who would conduct the operation (of his war plan). He wanted no interference..."

Instead, Joffre started re-writing Plan XVI in the summer of 1911, but decided that he needed a full-on new plan. This, which became Plan XVII, was prepared through 1912 and 1913 before being issued in February 1914 and finalized in May.

The basic outline of the final version included:
1) Primary concentration of forces behind the line of fortifications in the northeast; four armies (First, Second, Third, and Fifth) along the German and Luxembourg frontiers with a fifth (Fourth Army) in reserve behind the front four,
2) Fifth Army "occupied a broad front stretching across the Luxembourg-Belguim frontier and extending west beyond Mezieres to Hirson" (Doughty, 2010),
3) Grouped reserve units into four three-division-strong "Reserve Division Groups" - effectively corps without the corps assets - and parked one at each end of the forward units (one south of the southeasternmost army (First), the other northwest of Fifth Army) and the other two behind the fortress line menage.
4) A classified "annex" included a contingency for the British forces - without presuming their presence as a given - to fall in to the northwest of Mezieres left of Fifth Army.

In concept it looked like this:

The idea was that this mobilization plan would provide enough strength to attack either southeast of Metz (into Germany) or northwest (into Luxembourg and Belgium) depending on the German deployment.

Third and Fourth Armies were particularly critical to Joffre's scheme of defeating a possible German "right hook" - whether it was a "short hook" into Luxembourg and southeastern Belgium or a "big hook" across the Meuse into central or eastern Belgium - by attacking the "hinge" around Neufchateau and Charleroi.

(It's worth noting that in 1912 Joffre floated the idea of preemptively moving into Belgium to head off the German right wing sweep and his War Minister shot it down hard. The risk of losing British cooperation that would incur was too high.)

Obviously the critical part of the critical part of Third and Fourth Armies maneuver was knowing 1) where that "hinge" was and 2) what Germans would be there to be attacked.


1914: How's All That Planning Working Out For Ya, France?

So. To sum up.

Conventional wisdom on "World War 1" is typically that the deployments and operations that were actuated by Plan XVII - principally the weighted-up right wing (three of the five armies plus three-fourths of the "reserve groups") and the attacks into Germany southeast of Metz - were the "fatal flaw" that were largely responsible for the disastrous August of 1914.

And, yes; these were neither well-thought-out nor successful...but to me the reasons for failure seem primarily tactical rather than strategic.

The second and related  "failure point" is usually pointed at the hanging French/British left flank, the failure to anticipate (despite numerous intelligence warnings) the big Schlieffen right-wing hook through Belgium.

That, too, was not ideal...had that big hook 1) been logistically and time-and-space-do-able as planned, which most careful analyses (van Crevelt, represent!) suggest it was not, and 2) actually happened as planned, which it didn't. 

I don't see it. Yes, the hanging flank was still there, like a boxer's dropped right hand, but the big left hook didn't land.

To me the biggest and most critical failure was in the Ardennes, the strike at the "hinge" by Third and Fourth Armies.

Had that been effective it offered a real opportunity to dislocate the German invasion, isolating the German First and Second Armies from their lines of communication and supply and offering defeat of them in detail.

So I don't see Plan XVII itself as a flaming disaster. 

Good? No. 

But it wasn't the primary cause of the defeats in August. It was flawed, it wasn't particularly clever or promising...but not that much worse than flaws in the German Aufmarsch it opposed.


So...Why DID Things Go All To Hell in August?

Doughty (2010) has a good rundown of the technical and tactical issues with French war planning (specifically Joffre's work as Chief of Staff) that helped set up the defeats of The Frontiers;

1) The French Army command, control, communication, and information (C3I) setup was particularly unsuited for the tactical conditions of 1914. We'll get into this in more detail, but the bottom line is that the way the French Army - from GQG, the highest headquarters, down to the company and platoon level - did their intel collection and dissemination, and subsequent operational planning and order-issue, was badly outdated and ineffective.

2) That extended to battle tactics - particularly artillery-infantry coordination - and equipment - particularly heavy field artillery, where the lack of modern 120mm-and-larger field guns and over-reliance on the "soixante-quinze" were punitive.

Another issue was human. The "conservatives" were right on one point; the French reserve training was insufficient, the training areas undersized or unavailable, and as a result the reserve units lacked the capability to get up to combat speed as quickly as the German Ersatz corps. 

Aother human problem was the lack of trained noncommissioned officers. Even a return to a three-year active service commitment in 1913 didn't materially change that; instead it added a slug of noobs to already-under-led French infantry units. "A German infantry company normally possessed eighteen to twenty long-service noncommissioned officers in peacetime; a French company had only eight or nine, besides some recruits promoted in their second year..." (Herrmann 1996)

3) Perhaps beyond the scope of "plans" itself but viciously punitive over the course of the war to come was the failure of imagination that overlooked the problems cascading from the loss of the iron ore and coalfield industrial regions of northeastern France. The Wikipedia entry for the occupied portions of France notes that: "...the occupied zone included some of the most industrialized parts of France: 64 percent of France's pig-iron production, 24 percent of its steel manufacturing and 40 percent of the total coal mining capacity was located in the zone, representing a major setback for the French industry."


So What You're Saying Is That France Had Ninety-nine Problems and Plan XVII was Only One?

Yes.

I'm not saying that the war plan - or the development of the plan - wasn't a problem that led to French defeats along the frontiers in August. 

It just wasn't THE problem.

And of the other-than-planning problems of the Frontiers fights the single biggest failure was in the operations around what has become known as the Battle of the Ardennes between 21 and 23 AUG 1914. 

And of that failure the failure of the French reconnaissance and security forces to figure out who was where doing what, and their German opposite numbers who succeeded, well...that's where we're headed.

But before we get there, we need to look at those forces, the people on the ground and in the air, who were tasked with finding out what their enemies were up to, and denying those enemies the same knowledge of their own people.


Next: Scouts Out!