Showing posts with label World War I. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World War I. Show all posts

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...

Saturday, May 22, 2010

In Flanders fields...

...the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.


Just a reminder that, while it may well be my most disliked "holiday", the poppies the VFW vets sell do go to help those who, unlike the dead, have not yet seen an end to war.

And that my little girl is the cutest thing ever. Wears her poppy well, don't you think?

(Crossposted at MilPub)

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Decisive Battles: First Marne, 1914

First Marne Date: 5-12 September, 1914Forces Engaged: Allied: Primarily the French 6th Army, 7 reserve divisions, approximately 90,000-140,000 troops of all arms under General Michel-Joseph Maunoury and the British Expeditionary Force* (BEF), 6 infantry and 1 cavalry division - roughly 80,000 all ranks - under Field Marshal Sir John French. Later the French Fifth Army (Lanzarac; later d'Esperey) and the Ninth Army (Foch) joined in the attack on the German 2nd Army; the Fifth included 11 divisions (240,000 all arms) and the Ninth, 12 (about 250,000). Total engaged approximately 650,000 troops under the overall command of General Joseph Joffre.

Central Powers: Two Imperial German field armies: 1st, under von Kluck; 15 divisions (approximately 250,000 all arms) and 2nd, under von Bülow; 12 divisions (approximately 200,000 all arms), a total of roughly 450-500,000, nominally commanded by His Imperial Majesty Wilhelm II Hohenzollern but effectively under the command of Chief of the Imperial General Staff Helmuth von Moltke the Younger.

*Note - The 1914 BEF was a truly unique organization in British military history, and perhaps in military history as a whole. Tiny, insular, professional...nearly all the units contained were long-service regular troops, from the ordinary "county" units like the Manchester Regiment to the prestigious Brigade of Guards. Even the private soldiers often had years of experience. The British Army has probably never seen the like, before or since. But that's for later in the story.

The Campaign: To recount the opening moves of World War I you could write a book; in fact, several people have. But to really get a grasp of why the German, French and British forces met on the plain of the Marne in September 1914 you really have to go back about forty-five years.

Western Europe was among perhaps the bloodiest regions on Earth going back to Roman times. In particular the French, call them Gauls, Franks, the inhabitants of the polity centered around the Seine valley rode out across most of western, central and southern Europe between the fall of Rome and the final defeat of Napoleon in 1815. Before you snark the modern French as cheese-eating surrender monkeys you might pause to consider that for something like 13 centuries they were the Huns of Europe, killing, looting, raping and pillaging from the Pyrenees to the Elbe, from the Strait of Messina to the Baltic.

Among the peoples the French bitchslapped along the way were the residents of what were then called "The Germanies", the hodge-podge of feudal states, episcopal satrapies, electorships, free cities, robber barons, peasant uprisings and pushbutton motels that occupied central Europe. Pounded flat by French troops whether marching at the behest of Bourbons or Bonaparte, the German peoples had little love for their old enemies at the moment the winter of 1812 broke the hammer of the Grand Army and provoked the typically-blockheaded Hohenzollern rulers of Prussia to take arms against a sea of Frenchmen and by opposing, carve out a kingdom in eastern Germany.

The Prussians proceeded to benefit from two bits of luck: first, that the coalition that defeated Napoleon regarded them as fairly harmless, and in so doing did nothing to prevent Prussian hegemony in northern Germany; and second, that early in August, 1814 Karl von Bismarck and his young wife Wilhelmine had nothing better to do than fool around. The product of that evening was the man who unified Germany and, although he was violently opposed to the idea, in many ways helped to set her moving towards the meeting on the Marne in the first week in September, 1914.

Prussia was busy with its neighbors in the first half of the 19th Century, and France had internal troubles and the ass-whipping of 1814-1815 to keep it occupied, but by the third quarter of the period both sides were eyeing each other nastily. France, restlessly ruled by the nephew of the original Napoleon, was itching for a fight with the ambitious upcomer Prussia, whose defeat of the old order in the form of Austria in 1866 set the stage for the Franco-Prussian War of 1870.This little fracas, too, has birthed entire volumes. But the Cliff's Notes version is that the Prussian state and army showed that modern war needed more than red pants and audace. Rapid mobilization, efficient railways, modern artillery and professional command and control quickly overcame the French Army. Republic superseded Empire but the defeat and humiliation - especially the punitive Treaty of Frankfurt - animated France with a hatred and enmity towards the newly formed "Germany" that the Prussian conquest of Paris in 1815 had never engendered.

Give him credit: Bismarck is said to have disliked the Treaty, fought against the annexation of Alsace and Lorraine, and warned that making a permanent enemy of France was bad juju for Germany. However, his fear of social liberalization overcame his common sense and his influence on the young Crown Prince Wilhelm couldn't have been worse. As a result when his protege finally put on the Imperial Crown as Wilhelm II in 1888 it took him less than three years to force the Iron Chancellor out and replace him with a series of functionaries he intended to ignore. Bismark, dying in 1898, is famously quoted as predicting a German disaster as shattering as Jena within twenty years.

The diplomatic and political history of Franco-German relations between 1888 and 1914 are far beyond the scope of this discussion. Suffice to say that Bismarck's tutelage of the now-Kaiser as an army-mad autocrat, coupled with the man's own innate limitations and his navy fixation did a lot to drive the Western powers towards the war. The web of mutual and secret military treaties didn't help, either. But we all know most of that. One event that isn't as well understood should be introduced: the "Entente cordiale" of 1904.

This agreement, principally intended to prevent yet another Anglo-French war in the lees of the war scare of that year (France and Britain had nearly been pulled into war by treaty obligations, France to her ally Russia, the Brits to theirs, Japan), was pretty much just a deal to settle colonial differences.

But the French, who now felt that they had another backer against the Germans, proceeded to act as if they did. And the German leadership - particularly the Kaiser - felt angered and betrayed by the English "treachery".

It was about this time that Wilhelm asked his Chief of Imperial General Staff, Alfred von Schlieffen, to devise a plan to defeat the Entente, working from the assumption that a war would come with France attacking first from the west and the slower-mobilizing Russians later from the East. Wilhelm, and Schlieffen, wanted a military solution that would overwhelm and defeat the French quickly, allowing the German state to use it's interior lines and excellent rail system to shift forces east to defeat the Russians in turn.

Schlieffen presented this in the form of a memo to the Imperial circle in December, 1905. The initial outline of the "Schlieffen Plan" called for a scythe-sweep of the Imperial right through the low countries with a force of 37 divisions - almost 1,000,000 troops - while a token force of some 400,000 held the German left at the frontier around Metz. 10 divisions would hold off the Russians for the 30-40 days the plan considered essential for the converging right wing to encircle the French Army, which was assumed would lunge into the Ardennes, Alsace-Lorraine and the Vosges, bring it to a decisive engagement and destroy it; a recapitulation on a massive scale of the 1870 victory at Sedan.Perhaps no single operational concept devised between then and now had received so much scrutiny and been analyzed, critiqued and discussed as the Schlieffen Plan. Complicating the controversy is the documentary evidence; apparently the "Plan" was not devised as such by Schlieffen himself - that is, developed as a fully detailed war plan that included orders of battle, routes, timetables, and logistical support - but rather existed as a conceptual memo in 1905 that was slightly expanded by a codicil in 1906. The actual Plan, as effected in 1914, was substantially modified by Schlieffen's successor von Moltke. These modifications included weakening the swinging flank to hold ground on the left, as well as altering the passage through the Low Countries; the modifications of 1908-09 have been bitterly contested ever since.On the one hand is the...let's call them the "originalist" faction. Their motto would be Schlieffen's dying words: "Keep the right wing strong". According to the originalist interpretation, the failure of 1914 was the result of weakening the right wing hammer to prevent territorial losses in Alsace, of not transiting neutral Holland as Schlieffen had planned (causing bottlenecks in Belgium due to a lack of road and rail space and the loss of the Dutch rail net), and the transfer of three corps to the East.

In the other camp are the "skeptic" faction. This group, which includes some pretty well-respected military historians such as Liddell Hart and van Creveld, believes that the failure in the West had everything to do with the hard realities of time, space, men and material and that the Schlieffen plan, in whatever form you took it, was not capable of overcoming them. Van Creveld says:
"The prime factors would have been the inability of the railheads to keep up with the advance, the lack of fodder, and sheer exhaustion. In this sense, but no other, it is true to say that the Schlieffen Plan was logistically impracticable."
John Keegan's analysis of the plan criticizes it for its failure to perform a simple calculation; not enough roads were available in Belgium and northern France to permit the German forces to arrive on schedule and in sufficient force - they could do one or the other, not both. He also points out the Schlieffen Plan as a leading example of the mental dysfunction between military war planning and the political goals and perils military planning is supposed to solve; the Plan works only as a military solution to a war with France, while ignores that violating Belgian neutrality was the very thing most likely to bring in the British against Germany and make the war with France into a larger, less solvable conflict.

Whatever the latter-day opinions of the Schlieffen Plan - and I admit to being a skeptic - in its revised form it would carry the German troops over their start lines on 4 August. The German right caprioled through Belgium, although the Belgian Army made a surprisingly good showing, while the French obligingly rammed their Plan XVII wiener into the warp drive around the Verdun-Toul fortress line.

The Germans didn't realize it, but their plan had begun to unravel, prey to "friction" that attacks all warlike enterprise, within hours of crossing the frontiers. For one thing, the French Army was tactically crude, trapped in the silly cult of "elan" and relying on some sort of mystical Frenchiness to overrun entrenchments, machineguns and rapid-firing light artillery. The offensive in the southeast got stuck, and Rupprecht, commander of the German Sixth and Seventh Armies, forgot his role in his furor Bavaricus, demanded, and got, permission to counterattack and did, successfully driving back the French First and Second Armies. The Ardennes portion of Plan XVII met the same checks, and since by this time the German attacks in Belgium were becoming dangerously successful Joffre could not continue to prevent the movement of the Fifth Army westwards towards Paris.

Both plans were coming apart.

The final moves to set up the Miracle of the Marne were:

1. In late August and early September Von Kluck and von Bulow turned south and east. The Schlieffen Plan had always called for bypassing Paris to the west (memories of the siege of 1871 had made the Germans unwilling to repeat it) but for some reason (poor intelligence? Overconfidence?) the commanders of the German right concluded that they had enveloped all the dangerous French and British forces and could roll them up without looping around Paris. This was wrong, and by 3 September someone had figured this out.2. On 4 September 1914 Général Galliéni, Commander of the Army of Paris, informed Général Joffre that Von Kluck's 1st Army has isolated itself from Von Bülow’s 2nd Army, its flanks "hanging in air"; his air observers had seen the open country between them. Joffre send word to Galliéni's Sixth Army to attack the right flank of the German 1st Army - on 5 September. French, the commander of the BEF, was nearly all to pieces but the intervention of Joffre and Kitchener, the British Secretary of State for War, managed to get him to agree to attack alongside the French Fifth Army into the hinge between the German 1st and 2nd Armies. The attack was set for 6 September.3. But at midday on 5 September the Sixth Army cav scouts contacted cavalry patrols from Gronau’s IV Reserve Corps near the Ourcq River. Gronau’s two divisions attacked and pushed Sixth Army's advance elements back on themselves. The Battle of the Marne had begun.

The Sources: As a 20th Century industrial military campaign the primary sources, including army records and state papers are exhaustively supplemented by diaries, memoirs, professional papers and staff rides as well as entire libraries of historical analysis are extant. There is no shortage of literature on the First Battle of the Marne. I should add that the Wikipedia entry discussing the Schleiffen Plan is surprisingly complete and incisive, and well worth reading on the subject if you haven't the time to chase down Liddell Hart, van Crevelt and David Fromkin.

The Engagement: Probably the simplest way to break down the Marne is day-by-day starting with the German attacks of September 5. And for the first time I cannot give more than an outline of the actual course of the fighting; too many soldiers spread over too vast an area make the detailed discussion of tactics, even grand tactics, nearly impossible.

5 SEP 1914

The day opened with a concerned von Moltke, dithering anxiously about his mobile HQ in Luxembourg, worrying about intel reports of French troops massing to Kluck's right in and around the environs of Paris. Added to this case of war nerves was his uncertainty about the whereabouts of Kluck's 1st Army. He knew it was out west somewhere...but where? Bulow's people had lost contact with the 1st Army left, and as far as Moltke knew it was just swanning around somewhere between 2nd Army and Paris. Early in September he ordered Kluck to close on von Bulow and "refuse" his right, becoming the Imperial Army's right flank and rear guard.This would'a been kinda hard for von Kluck, who at the time was out front of 2nd Army, crossing the Oise and Ourcq heading towards the Marne. By the morning of the 5th Moltke had had enough. He ordered both Kluck and von Bulow to halt and change their front from south to west, dig in and prepare a deliberate defense. What he didn't do was detail the disturbing news of French maneuver elements moving east out of Paris that had caused him so much anxiety. So, without any explanation of the order Kluck looked it over and basically wiped his ass with it. He dropped off Gronau's corps to cover his right flank and rear and kept pushing south, arriving at the St. Gond marshes near Chateau-Thierry on the evening of the 5th. Von Moltke? Fuck von Moltke...there was a war to win, and Kluck was just the boy to do it.

Meanwhile, Manoury's French Sixth Army was pushing northeast and east from Paris. His cavalry screen, pretty thin, tired and chopped up, met Gronau's recon elements on the nasty rough plateau around Brie (like the cheese). The French horsemen were unable to keep Gronau's own uhlans and dragoons from reporting that behind the French cavalry were infantry, and in force. Gronau sent a rocket off to Kluck screaming for support, backed off and dug in along the plateau. Sixth Army's lead elements deployed and began probing attacks to suss out the German positions.

Kluck, having finally received a staffer from Moltke and getting it through his head that not all was well on his right flank and rear, started moving his army back northwest. By morning of 6 September nearly all of 1st Army was on the roads heading west and northwest.

The Schlieffen Plan was officially done.6 SEP 1914

All the armies were moving during the day: the French Sixth attacking east and northeast into increasingly vicious German defenses; the German 1st piling into its new positions along the Ourcq; the French Fifth and the BEF pushing north into the gap opened between the German 1st and 2nd Armies, and even further east the French Ninth and Fourth Armies began to hold and even push back against the German right-center; their calvary is, again, outside the scope of our work.

The day can be summarized very simply for the BEF: marching. The BEF commander, French - confusing name, that - had been so demoralized by the losses at Mons and Le Cateau that he had withdrawn the British completely out of contact. The irony is that the casualties the BEF suffered in August 1914 would have made a British commander of 1916 or 1917 grin with pleasure. As mentioned above, the Old Contemptables of 1914 were a very different article - almost unlike any army before or since. Nearly entirely of long-service professionals, with even the private soldiers often having many years in service, the BEF had probably seen more war than any other army in Europe, but all of it the wrong kind. Colonial "wars" had made British officers insular and regimentalized. The British had learned nearly nothing from the American Civil, Austro-Prussian and Franco-Prussian Wars; their logistics, command and control were crude, almost primitive, and their technical and tactical proficiency below even the bayonet-obsessed French. They had one great skill: marksmanship, and their rifle fire had shot entire German units flat at Mons and elsewhere. But French and the officers of his generation had little stomach for this new industrial warfare. The butchery of September, 1914, would begin the apprenticeship of an entirely new generation of British commanders whose callousness would become a byword and a hissing.

On the French left, Maunoury's Sixth Army flailed all day against the dug-in German positions on the plateau of Brie. Kluck, who really was a decisive and intelligent commander, had thoroughly recognized the danger from his right and had done a Patton-in-the-Bulge, wheeling his entire Army to his right, leaving a thin screen of cavalry and infantry outposts before the BEF and piled two of his army corps, IInd and IVth, into the Sixth Army as it filed up from Paris. Maunoury was no better than any of the other French generals at what we'd call today "C3I"; command, control, communication and intelligence. Mind you, with no radio and only rudimentary telephone, he couldn't do much more than issue general orders and hope for the best.But the result was a straggling struggle of a battle that was, in fact, really a sequence of battles, as individual French regiments, brigades and divisions attempted to storm into 1st Army's defenses, already hardening with wire, entrenchments and mutually supporting machineguns. Sixth Army managed to push Kluck's people back about 6 miles on a broad front north of Meaux, but with more landser arriving every hour, the going was slower and slower as night fell.

On the right, the French Fifth Army shouldered past von Bulow's right, taking high ground near Esterney and kicking open the weak scrim between the 2nd Army and Kluck's covering force.

7 SEP 1914

The 7th of September was a day of vicious hammering all along the lines of contact, what we would call the FEBA/FLOT: "Forward Edge of the Battle Area/Forward Line of Own Troops" - where the two sides exchange pleasantries. On the French left/German right, von Kluck threw another corps at Sixth Army; both sides exchanged ground, often for horrific losses, but the German advantages in heavy artillery, better command and control and more sensibly modern tactics began to tell. Here's a day in one small portion of the fight for the little village of Etrépilly that tells the story better than I can generalize it.

The German defenders (said to be a battalion or battalions from the IVth Corps that had arrived in the Etrépilly/Etavigny area the day before) had showed the German genius for rapid entrenchment that would become better known over the next year. They had dug in themselves and their machineguns, sited in light field artillery with heavier guns in defilade. The position was hasty and crude compared to the horrific trenches that would soon appear, but it was strong enough. For the next three days the French 63rd and 56th Divisions proceeded to smash themselves against it.Here's the story of as told in the Michelin guide to the battlefield published in 1921:
"The 350th Infantry did once make their way into the village on the morning of the 7th...but violent counter-attacks forced them back. They returned to the charge at night...(and) were greeted by the fire of a machinegun section, upon which two companies flung themselves with fixed bayonets. Two fieldpieces were taken." The French held on until 10pm, when German attacks drove them out again. "The 2nd (Zouave) Regiment, coming from Barcy, reached the village and carried it at the point of the bayonet. (NB: "Zouaves" were originally native troops from Algeria, first part of the "troupes de marine" in 1831. By 1914 zouave regiments, distinctive in their colorful "Algerian" bag-caps, short jackets, sashes and pantaloons, were mostly French colonials - the "pieds noirs", Frenchmen domiciled in North Africa.) "Their rush carried them as far as the cemetery; met there by a terrific fire from the machineguns that tried to keep the position along the walls of the cemetery, but in spite of their efforts, they had to abandon the plateau around, evacuate the village, and return to their trenches near Barcy. Lieutenant-Colonel Dubujadoux, the regiment's commander, was killed near the entrance under the west wall of the cemetery. Three quarters of the officers and half the effective force fell during this heroic charge."


Many of these young men still hold the ground they died for: they are buried in the little village cemetery once so fiercely fought over in the early autumn of 1914.Kluck must have sensed his chance to smash the Sixth Army; his troops pounded on it all day and into the evening.

The BEF did little against Kluck's weak blocking force.

On the right, d'Esperey's Fifth Army hammered forward against Bulow's right, crossing the river Grand Morin and further widening the gap between 1st and 2nd Armies. Von Bulow responded with energy, attacking on his left to try and break the hinge between d'Esperey and Foch's Ninth Army to his right. The attack was successful, but not decisive, and Bulow's gains on his left were offset by his setbacks on his right.

The night of 7th/8th September included one of the famous episodes of the First World War. Sensing that Sixth Army was exhausted, decimated and nearing collapse, General Gallieni rounded up the taxicabs of Paris and used them to shuttle 11,000 troops of the 7th Division from their railhead to the battle area.The episode has all the features of a good war story, so it has been made into a legend that today bears little resemblance to the historical fact. The facts are that the "Taxis of the Marne" didn't save France, and that the 7th Division was a tiny stone in the wall that Maunoury's Sixth held between Kluck and the French flank and Paris. But it was, and is, a great story and as such will live forever long after the warriors for the working day are forgotten.

8-9 SEP 1914

The Allied attacks continued: Sixth Army and the BEF closing in on both flanks of Kluck's 1st Army, Fifth Army bending back Bulow's right as 2nd Army continued to hammer Foch's Ninth Army.

The critical issue came late in the day on the 9th: Kluck turned his IXth Corps loose in a fierce attack on Manoury's left. The "hanging" flank was forced back and almost - but didn't quite - break. Kluck lost his chance to escape the envelopment through attack. Carefully, professionally as he did everything, his troops withdrew to the north and east, eventually recrossing the Ourcq on the night of the 9th/10th.To the east, von Bulow's 2nd and von Hausen's 3rd Armies put in a ferocious attack against Foch's men. The fighting was horrifying, nearly wrecking Ninth Army, but Foch and his troops - as Foch would do again - pulled one out of his ass. The French positions around Pleurs held, Foch committed one of his battered divisions, the 42nd, to counterattack. The Saxons of 3rd Army were not expecting attack; they believed that Ninth Army was on the ropes. Foch's gamble worked, and the French center held long enough for the danger to Kluck and Bulow to become unretrievable.

Allied troop spent a nervous night under arms between September 9th and 10th but when the sun rose the next day the German armies were moving off to the north. The German invasion plan of 1914 was over, and the next phase of the Great War had begun.

In fact, Moltke had collapsed; after a visit to his army commanders headquarters on September 11 he is said to have undergone a "nervous breakdown". His staff took over organizing the retirement to the positions 40 miles north, in the high ground beyond the Aisne River where they would remain for another four years.

The Miracle of the Marne was over; the Race to the Sea had begun, and the Great War, which was to have been "over by Christmas", had another four Christmases to run and millions more young men, old women, horses, dogs and every other living thing imaginable to kill before it would end; 16 million of them.

The Outcome: Grand Tactical Entente victory. The German invasion needed a decisive outcome within 30-60 days or the prospect of a war of attrition made the entire project unsound. Before the Marne - as we've discussed - the chances of a decisive German strategic victory were problematic; afterwards, impossible. Attrition, given no change in the balance of forces, could have resulted in a negotiated peace of exhaustion. As we know, that didn't happen. German shortsightedness, combined with British guile and the ties between the British and the United States, brought the U.S. into the war on the Allied side.Game over, thanks for playing, Your Serene Highness...

The Impact: The "Miracle of the Marne" is really a cautionary tale to all those, and those of us, who believe that military strategy is the pinnacle of the military art and that military plans can be crafted to achieve a perfect geopolitical result.

Both Plans - Schlieffen and XVII - were perfectly designed to produce the same result; a decisive battle in northeastern France. The problem was that both sides thought that their version was the perfect solution to beat the other, and one of them would have had to be wrong. It would have been interesting to see what would have happened if Moltke hadn't diddled with the original Schlieffen Plan; it would have been like one of those samurai movies where the duelists both attack at the same time with their "ultimate" strike. They stand, and stand, and suddenly one drops dead. Or both.

Whatever. It didn't happen, for all the reasons we've talked about.

The irony is that the world, taken all together, might have been better off HAD the Schlieffen Plan worked as advertised. Counterfactuals are troubling at best, but bear with me here.

Let's assume that Schlieffen actually DOES the hard nutwork and devises a plan capable of delivering 40-some divisions behind the Allied left some time within four to six weeks after the initial engagements. Moltke doesn't weaken the right, doesn't let Rupprecht attack on the left, the Russians don't mobilize as quickly as they did, and the Germans achieve a Sedan-like envelopment and decisive victory.Wilhelm had no further territorial ambitions in France. So it is probable that the result would have been a negotiated diktat, possibly snatching some French colonial possessions. But...the likelihood is that the French would have nurtured revanche well into the 20th Century. But whether this would have led to a different sort of WW2? Or a 20th Century of uneasy peace?

Hard to say.

But without the devastation of WW1, much of the rest of the past century, from Hitler to Stalin, communism and Nazism, death camps and gulags...all might have been much different. Better? Perhaps, perhaps not. But clearly very, very different.

In a sense, the Marne was the worst possible direction for history to take, short of Prinzip missing Franz Ferdinand altogether. It ensured years of dismal war, and wrecked or warped the societies, economies and polities it involved. Yes, Paris was saved, and France, from another humiliating defeat. But at what price?

The other caution here is that we always know less than we think we know. The political leaders and especially the general officers didn't really understand the war they were fighting at all. Despite seeing the effects of industrial war in 1861-1865, 1866 and 1870, they refused to believe that the combination of mass production, rifling, high explosive and repeating machinery could overcome "elan" and the glory of war.There's something really pathetic about the 1914 regiments marching out with their colors, their tawdry finery of helmet gilt and brass buttons covered with makeshift cloth covers or dulled with emery paper, the horses and bands and the flags waving those hapless souls off to Hell.

So:

Decision on the Marne "saves" France, and ensures another four years of grinding war, with all the consequences. What else?

Another significant impact of the Marne, I think, is the collapse and relief of von Moltke. Not one of history's Great Captains but a reasonably humane officer, Moltke is replaced by Falkenhayn.

If that seems insignificant then you need to read about Verdun. Verdun was the "grave of France"; the horrible conditions, and the frightful dying, that the French poilu suffered there in 1916 were the direct antecedent of the Chemin de Dames mutinies of 1917. Verdun, if it was anyone's battle, was Falkenhayn's. He was sure that he could bleed the French Army out and cause France to sue for peace. It might have worked, too, had the U.S. not come in on the side of the Allies. But if you want to point a finger at someone for the horrors of WWI, Falkenhayn has to be right up there with Neville and Haig.

The What-Ifs: No "decisive battle" - certainly none in the 20th Century - has as many intriguing possibles as the Marne.

What if the Schlieffen Plan HAD worked? What if Moltke hadn't altered it? What if the German right hadn't come unraveled? What if Moltke had had the emotional stability of a Ludendorff and the tactical sense of a Hindenburg?

What if Joffre hadn't listened to Gallieni? What if French had been further gone than he was? What is Joffre hadn't replaced Lanzarac? What if Foch's army had broken? What if Bulow and Kluck had worked together better?

Touchline Tattles: I cannot think of a single odd, amusing or offbeat story to tell about the Marne.

It was a decisive battle, it had a part in changing the course of history, but it was, as Bill Sherman said, all hell and you cannot refine it.

The only stories I can think of are sad ones; young men marching off to war with eighty years of silly romantic stories in their heads, young women hoping and dreaming about them, and both of them pitched into the abyss their "leaders" dug for them. The soldiers of the Marne fought like mad Greek heroes, but there's nothing heroic here; just mud, blood, fear and death, and four long years of it and at the end, the foreboding that their children will do it all again in twenty years.

If there's any lightness here, it is only mockery.

For the dead, all wars are lost. It's hard for us to remember that, sometimes. Even when the dying comes for a cause, even when the cause is WORTH the dying for.

And the Marne wasn't really one of those; the result of a huge, pride-swollen, diplomatic stupidity, it was just another handful of days in one of history's most awful because it was one of its most pointless wars.

No, all I can find here is the silence of the dead.