"All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; When far away, we must make him believe we are near."
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Aside from making war, there is another occupation that armies have which is no less important, making plans. Without plans, there is no way to win a war. Alexander the Great planned how to invade Persia, Hannibal planned how to cross the Alps (with his notorious elephants and boulder dissolving vinegar) to take over Rome. Philip II of Spain planned to sail the Spanish Armada to England in 1588, only to have to tables turned on him. Napoleon made war plans almost every year of his conquering career. The North planned how to defeat the South in the American Civil War and so on.
All of these plans, indeed pretty much any war plans since men began the art of war, were made "on the hoof" when war was either impending or already ongoing. That would change by 1870, with the advent of the new European railway systems which made it possible for armies to move thousands of men long distances ten times faster than they could travel by foot. The railroads also made it easier to supply armies, since food and other goods could be shipped to troops by rail, rather than having to rely on what could be begged, borrowed, bought, or stolen from the surrounding countryside. The trouble with railroads is, they have to be efficiently timed or nothing will ever go anywhere. The French army learned this the hard way during the Franco-Prussian war, when empty train cars left sitting on the track blocked the arrival of full trains for miles. Because of this, armies became fixated on ensuring that trains were kept to a strict timetable in war as well as peacetime. The best place to do this was staff colleges.
Staff colleges were an invention of the latter Nineteenth Century. As mentioned before, soldier-making had become an industrial staple of most European countries, and since armies and navies need officers, staff colleges were set up to train privileged young men to be such. The first staff college was, not surprisingly, founded by the Germans the same day the University of Berlin was founded. At first, the attendants of these schools were trained to be minions, but later on they were taught to think like generals, play war games, study military tactics, and write solutions to strategic problems. Germany was the founder of the staff college/war college and its models were soon coped throughout Europe. Their tactics were copied and their manuals translated into English, French, and other languages. The best graduates were appointed to general staffs and set to arranging mobilization schedules, writing wartime railway timetables, and finding solutions to every possible outcome of a situation. Nineteenth century warfare had been turned from something done on an as-needed basis to an intricate art, a trade craft. An obsessive, giant chess game with the map of Europe as the playing board. The opening move was designated Mobilization Day ( M-Tag as it was known by the Germans) and everything following was a rigorous schedule of what soldiers and supplies should be placed where and when however many days after M-Tag until they reached the battlefield and the war was won.
As in chess, there are always strategies, and this new art of war was no exception. Generals and their staffs would write out various plans of deployment based on the situation and how they expected their opponents to respond. These deployment plans, once complete, were pigeon-holed to be pulled out later as needed. The most famous of these is still known even to casual students of history, the Schlieffen Plan.
The Schlieffen Plan was named for its author, Field Marshall Alfred von Schlieffen, and was in short, a plan of how Germany was to crush France once one of them declared war on the other. The Plan was this, nearly the whole German army in a line, hinged at the Swiss border and stretching nearly to the North Sea, would march forward in a large arc across Belguim, Brussles, and finally across Flanders to the French border. The were scheduled to reach the French border by 21 days after M-tag. On the 31st day after M-tag, the German line would run along the Somme and Meuse rivers and the right wing would turn south, enveloping Paris in a pincer-like movement, driving the French army toward the left wing that was advancing from Alsace-Lorraine. Thus in a gigantic claw, 400 miles in circumference and 200 miles wide, France would essentially be decapitated as her army was crushed.
This plan would continually be plagued by problems, how long would it take supplies to get to the front, how hard would resistance through Belgium be, and so on. Schlieffen would continue to tinker with his plan obsessively until he died in 1912. His colleagues and successors would also continue to tinker with it. He and the other Germans were unaware that the French had a very similar plan in their war plan index. Known as Plans XIV-XVI, they were all variations on the same theme, to send all of the French forces along the French frontier to block Germany from entering France. It was a mirror of Schleiffen's masterwork, and plagued by the same problems; troop movements, supplies, ect. If both of these plans had been implemented as written, there would have been gridlock in Belgium and Alsace-Lorraine that may just still be going on today. Fortunately these two armies mobilized in slightly modified versions of their dress rehearsals.
France had a smaller population and therefore a smaller army than Germany, but remedied this in part by the Conscription Law of 1905, which imposed two years of military service for all young Frenchmen. Germany responded in kind in 1911 with a three year law for all young German men. Thus the world ran back and forth for thirty odd years, laws were changed, battle plans were written, rewritten, and indexed up until zero hour. This is what the staff colleges of Europe did during peace time. It is really no surprise that everyone wanted to go to war so desperately, the were all probably bored. One can only play the world's biggest chess game for so long.
Oddly enough, there were no diplomatic equivalents of military staff colleges. They cataloged ways to make war, but not ways to make peace. Oxford University had established its professorship of Modern History in the eighteenth century to educate future diplomats, but up to 1914, the British Foreign Office was still choosing its entrants from honorary attaches; that is, young men whose fathers were friends of ambassadors. ("It's not what you know, it's who you know" is at least two hundred years old. It is not a new thing.) Diplomacy was therefore, mostly taught in embassies. European diplomats ante-Great War were a truly international class, they all knew each other as acquaintances or friends and all spoke French as a common language. And they all shared the belief that it was their main job was to avoid war.
They had done so in the past. At times when it looked like Europe was on the verge of war they all had enough confidence in each others abilities, a common standard of conduct, and desired above all else to prevent conflict. It was not the fault of the diplomats in 1914 that war finally consumed the world, why did they fail? I am not quite sure of that answer, I am still determining the threads of action and consequence. The nearest I have come to so far, is that the conscripted young men, the professional soldiers, and the professional officers of the staff colleges were so well taught and well trained that they shouted down the diplomats. And the diplomats, whose very un-industrial trade was neglected, were at last out of their depth.
All of these plans, indeed pretty much any war plans since men began the art of war, were made "on the hoof" when war was either impending or already ongoing. That would change by 1870, with the advent of the new European railway systems which made it possible for armies to move thousands of men long distances ten times faster than they could travel by foot. The railroads also made it easier to supply armies, since food and other goods could be shipped to troops by rail, rather than having to rely on what could be begged, borrowed, bought, or stolen from the surrounding countryside. The trouble with railroads is, they have to be efficiently timed or nothing will ever go anywhere. The French army learned this the hard way during the Franco-Prussian war, when empty train cars left sitting on the track blocked the arrival of full trains for miles. Because of this, armies became fixated on ensuring that trains were kept to a strict timetable in war as well as peacetime. The best place to do this was staff colleges.
Staff colleges were an invention of the latter Nineteenth Century. As mentioned before, soldier-making had become an industrial staple of most European countries, and since armies and navies need officers, staff colleges were set up to train privileged young men to be such. The first staff college was, not surprisingly, founded by the Germans the same day the University of Berlin was founded. At first, the attendants of these schools were trained to be minions, but later on they were taught to think like generals, play war games, study military tactics, and write solutions to strategic problems. Germany was the founder of the staff college/war college and its models were soon coped throughout Europe. Their tactics were copied and their manuals translated into English, French, and other languages. The best graduates were appointed to general staffs and set to arranging mobilization schedules, writing wartime railway timetables, and finding solutions to every possible outcome of a situation. Nineteenth century warfare had been turned from something done on an as-needed basis to an intricate art, a trade craft. An obsessive, giant chess game with the map of Europe as the playing board. The opening move was designated Mobilization Day ( M-Tag as it was known by the Germans) and everything following was a rigorous schedule of what soldiers and supplies should be placed where and when however many days after M-Tag until they reached the battlefield and the war was won.
The Schlieffen Plan
As in chess, there are always strategies, and this new art of war was no exception. Generals and their staffs would write out various plans of deployment based on the situation and how they expected their opponents to respond. These deployment plans, once complete, were pigeon-holed to be pulled out later as needed. The most famous of these is still known even to casual students of history, the Schlieffen Plan.
The Schlieffen Plan was named for its author, Field Marshall Alfred von Schlieffen, and was in short, a plan of how Germany was to crush France once one of them declared war on the other. The Plan was this, nearly the whole German army in a line, hinged at the Swiss border and stretching nearly to the North Sea, would march forward in a large arc across Belguim, Brussles, and finally across Flanders to the French border. The were scheduled to reach the French border by 21 days after M-tag. On the 31st day after M-tag, the German line would run along the Somme and Meuse rivers and the right wing would turn south, enveloping Paris in a pincer-like movement, driving the French army toward the left wing that was advancing from Alsace-Lorraine. Thus in a gigantic claw, 400 miles in circumference and 200 miles wide, France would essentially be decapitated as her army was crushed.
This plan would continually be plagued by problems, how long would it take supplies to get to the front, how hard would resistance through Belgium be, and so on. Schlieffen would continue to tinker with his plan obsessively until he died in 1912. His colleagues and successors would also continue to tinker with it. He and the other Germans were unaware that the French had a very similar plan in their war plan index. Known as Plans XIV-XVI, they were all variations on the same theme, to send all of the French forces along the French frontier to block Germany from entering France. It was a mirror of Schleiffen's masterwork, and plagued by the same problems; troop movements, supplies, ect. If both of these plans had been implemented as written, there would have been gridlock in Belgium and Alsace-Lorraine that may just still be going on today. Fortunately these two armies mobilized in slightly modified versions of their dress rehearsals.
France had a smaller population and therefore a smaller army than Germany, but remedied this in part by the Conscription Law of 1905, which imposed two years of military service for all young Frenchmen. Germany responded in kind in 1911 with a three year law for all young German men. Thus the world ran back and forth for thirty odd years, laws were changed, battle plans were written, rewritten, and indexed up until zero hour. This is what the staff colleges of Europe did during peace time. It is really no surprise that everyone wanted to go to war so desperately, the were all probably bored. One can only play the world's biggest chess game for so long.
Oddly enough, there were no diplomatic equivalents of military staff colleges. They cataloged ways to make war, but not ways to make peace. Oxford University had established its professorship of Modern History in the eighteenth century to educate future diplomats, but up to 1914, the British Foreign Office was still choosing its entrants from honorary attaches; that is, young men whose fathers were friends of ambassadors. ("It's not what you know, it's who you know" is at least two hundred years old. It is not a new thing.) Diplomacy was therefore, mostly taught in embassies. European diplomats ante-Great War were a truly international class, they all knew each other as acquaintances or friends and all spoke French as a common language. And they all shared the belief that it was their main job was to avoid war.
They had done so in the past. At times when it looked like Europe was on the verge of war they all had enough confidence in each others abilities, a common standard of conduct, and desired above all else to prevent conflict. It was not the fault of the diplomats in 1914 that war finally consumed the world, why did they fail? I am not quite sure of that answer, I am still determining the threads of action and consequence. The nearest I have come to so far, is that the conscripted young men, the professional soldiers, and the professional officers of the staff colleges were so well taught and well trained that they shouted down the diplomats. And the diplomats, whose very un-industrial trade was neglected, were at last out of their depth.
Great work. I've wondered how interesting and helpful a comparison of planned verses reality would reveal. As example, the Schlieffen Plan (as a grand, all-encompassing epic plan) vs something like Market Garden (smaller in scope, but great in impact). How does Schlieffen as a military strategist and diplomat compare to Montgomery as a diplomat and strategist? And, of course, you can always bring in Patton for a brief glimpse of reality.
ReplyDeleteI've always been under the impression that war was an extension of diplomacy, which was, in the modern area, at least, the realm of politicians. When this began, I'm not sure. Though I suspect it was more a result of the World War than a contributing factor.