| Today, when the
strategies and tactics of generals and the dealings of politicians are
usually the substance of partisan debate, what still fascinates is the
part played in the Great War by ordinary civilians hurriedly transformed
into soldiers and plunged into a struggle which they barely understood. It
is difficult, if not impossible, to comprehend how they withstood the
traumas, fatigue, filth, terror, and boredom so resolutely for so long.
This is not to say that the generals who led them
had a much clearer idea of how, initially, to wage and, finally, to win a
war which was unlike anything they knew and was far beyond their
experience.
In 1914 no British
general had any experience whatsoever in the handling of large armies.
Indeed Britain, when compared with the major Continental Powers, had never
had a large army. Such soldiers as there were had been used exclusively to
patrol and control the trouble spots of the Empire.
Promotion came with length of service
and, consequently, officers tended to be restricted in outlook,
unreceptive to new techniques, and wary of novelty and innovation.
Moreover, senior commanders were often at least middle aged, and
frequently in ill health. When he led the BEF
to France Sir John French was 62. He had recently suffered a severe heart
attack and had been ordered by his doctors to take life as easily as
possible. Murray, who was French's Chief of
Staff, collapsed early on at the Battle of Le Cateau, and never really
recovered. Grierson, who went out to command the II Corps, had a fondness
for good food and a dislike of physical activity. He died on the way to
France at the age of 55. However, not all were like this, and Haig - the
other Corps Commander was, at 53, exceptionally fit and in very good
health.
Relationships amongst the generals themselves was
often not good, and one or two examples should be enough to give a feeling
for the atmosphere which prevailed. Haig told Charteris (his future chief
intelligence officer) that he, Haig, considered French not only to be
"quite unfit for high command in time of crisis", but also
obstinate and unable to accept advice. He also thought Henry Wilson to be
much more a politician than a soldier - and to Haig a politician was
little better than a crook. The infantry man Smith-Dorrien took command of
the II Corps after Grierson's death. Until his controversial dismissal
after the German attack on Ypres in 1915, Smith-Dorrien was regarded with
suspicion by French, the cavalry man.
To most British generals the cavalry was the
paramount branch of the army. Ignoring, or
unaware of, the indications presented by the Boer War and Russo/Japanese
War that gallant, dashing horsemen were no match for bullets, they
convinced themselves that it was this section of the army which would
finally exploit a break-through and bring decisive victory. Given the
deadly fire of machine guns, the concentration of artillery, and the
chaotic state of the land which the explosions of shells left, the
cavalry proved completely ineffective. Not
only were they generally ineffective, but the upkeep of so many of these,
often unused, soldiers behind the lines and, for example, the supply of
forage alone took up many valuable resources which would have been better
used elsewhere.
By 1914 Britain was, like Germany, a wealthy
nation with many powerful industries easily capable of mass-producing
weapons of mass destruction. During the War tanks, gas, hand grenades,
trench mortars, flame throwers, and aeroplanes came into common use, and
sometimes, together or separately, brought about decisive tactical
results. Other, more established weapons such as machine guns and
artillery pieces, were manufactured in vast quantities.
But the British army, as well, it must be said,
as most of our enemies and allies, took up many of these only reluctantly.
Encouraged by French élan, the generals felt that the rifle and bayonet
were the true infantryman's weapons. It was considered that few troops
could withstand the high rate of a British professional soldier's rifle
fire and the subsequent charge made with the cold, sharp steel. In the
event bayonets, being too awkward, were seldom used in man-to-man trench
combat. More favoured were knobkerries, nail-studded maces, and hand
grenades - all of which were more effective in the close confines of
trenches.
What was not realised, at first, was that a
few, well-entrenched machine guns could slow down and quickly halt an
attack made by very much superior numbers. It
was only later in the War, when the deadly potential of this weapon was
realised, that British battalions were equipped with anything like an
adequate supply of both light and heavy machine guns.
In the early stages both hand grenades and trench
mortars were in short supply. Soldiers sometimes made their own, with
results which were, not infrequently, more hazardous to the dispatchers
than to the intended victims.
In Britain before the War one or two prophets
foresaw the murderous potential of machine guns. What was needed, they
thought, to counteract this menace was some form of armoured and mobile
land ship. From this farsightedness the tank was born. The birth was
difficult for few generals believed that such an instrument of war was
necessary. It was only with great tenacity of purpose that its
protagonists managed to get the first few created. However, by 1916 some
were ready and commanders then realised that these awesome machines
offered some form of hope in overcoming the carnage which had been
produced by the stalemate of trench warfare. Those who had nurtured this
new attacking arm had clear views on how it should be used. But, greatly
to their disappointment and apprehension for its success, their opinions
went unheeded and were discounted for the sake of expediency.
© Karl W. Murray, 1996
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