by Barrie Pitt
The Staff, they decided, must immediately commence drawing up movement orders for a planned withdrawal of the Army, together with as much of the heavy materials of war as could be moved, back to the western frontier of Germany. There they would present to the world the spectacle of a proud and united force, worn down by their struggles against immense odds – but unbeaten – and still capable of defending their honour and the Fatherland. The troops would probably be glad to be home again.
Power had not corrupted these two old men. It had merely isolated them from reality.
There were still a few more weeks left for the five hundred and seven year reign of the House of Hohenzollern to run its dying course, but the moment of Ludendorff’s collapse marked its end. The following morning, Wilhelm II – the nineteenth member of his family to rule – came to Spa to be greeted by two sombre and depressed soldiers and a politician worried to desperation.
Von Hintze had had a thoroughly frightening morning. To begin with, he had arrived in a chastened frame of mind, for the imperious mood in which he had requested the presence of the two soldiers at the conference in order for them to deliver the ‘unequivocal declaration of military possibilities’ had not lasted long. The nearer his train brought him to the formidable pair, the more despondent he had become, particularly because, if in return for a statement on the military situation, Hindenburg requested from him an account of conditions at home, von Hintze would have an alarming picture to present.
Von Hintze feared revolution. There had been many signs of it before – there had even been a mutiny in the Fleet in 1917 – and since the crushing of the big strike in January last, there had been a continual agitation among the Social Democrats, fed and increased by the ‘Spartacus’ movement which seemed to draw much of its strength from soldiers and deserters who had been in contact with the Bolshevik revolutionaries in Russia. There had been many ominous incidents of late, upon which von Hintze felt he should report. Nonetheless, he had considered that despite appalling hardships, the vast majority of the German Nation were still loyal, mainly because of their innate discipline, their intense patriotism, and their belief that in the foreseeable future all their sufferings would be rewarded by the glorious victory which the Kaiser, Hindenburg, Ludendorff, and the entire structure of the High Command had continuously and vociferously promised them. The news of the Austrian treachery had come as a jolt to their equanimity, but on the whole, confidence in the iron strength of Prussian leadership had been maintained.
Now, it seemed, there was to be no victory – and the thought of the effect upon the German people of the rapid transition from paeans of glory to dirges of defeat, was so disturbing to von Hintze that as soon as he decently could after the beginning of the conference, he offered his resignation to the Kaiser. This, His Majesty coldly declined to accept.
The Kaiser then listened with bleak reserve to the reports and suggestions of his soldiers, agreed with the necessity for an armistice, and also that there would be no need to approach a third party in this respect, but that von Hintze in his capacity of Foreign Secretary should make a direct approach to President Wilson signifying Germany’s willingness to discuss peace terms on the basis of the Fourteen Points, and suggesting the immediate conclusion of an armistice.
At noon, the elderly Chancellor von Hertling arrived, to have his life-long belief in the invincibility of the German Army and the integrity of the Prussian Command abruptly shattered by the curt announcement that they were losing the war – a shock which so unnerved him that he too immediately offered his resignation to the Kaiser. In view of the unlikelihood of Wilson – or any other Allied statesman – being willing to treat with the present German Government, von Hertling’s resignation was accepted, and the search for someone to take his place ended with the suggestion that Prince Max of Baden, a relative of the Kaiser but a man of well-known liberal views with an international reputation for moderation, should be appointed.
One more significant event was to take place that day.
If an approach were to be made to the American President, it was obvious that far more sympathetic consideration would be given to Germany if there were signs that she was abandoning her centuries-old system of government by monarchical decree, and at least going through the motions of establishing some form of popular government. This was a suggestion which had to be phrased with particular delicacy by von Hintze, and at first the Kaiser was so upset that he left his seat and made for the door. He was persuaded back, however, and with marked distaste – and to the disgust of Hindenburg and Ludendorff – signed a proclamation which, if put into effect, would allow a somewhat rudimentary form of government through an elected parliament to be established.
The members of the conference then dispersed to their separate zones of activity, the soldiers feeling manfully that they were discharging their painful duties with honour, the politicians with the doleful conviction that they carried with them the detonator of an explosion which would spread immeasurable chaos and disaster. This conviction they quickly transmitted to Prince Max by informing him of his appointment as Chancellor, an announcement which made him feel ‘like a man awakened, who has been condemned to death but had forgotten it in his sleep.’
The position in which Prince Max found himself casts an illuminating light upon the almost feudal system of government which, in the twentieth century, still existed in one of the most powerful of European states. He had been summoned from private life, appointed as political head of his country, instructed to form a government of an entirely new type and possibly revolutionary outlook, and to sue his country’s enemies for peace. Protests and requests for extra time received summary refusal, and his actual position was clearly indicated on October 1st, even before he had formed his government, by the receipt of a telegram (actually addressed to von Hintze) from Hindenburg which read:
If by seven or eight o’clock this evening it is certain that Prince Max of Baden will form a Government, I agree to a postponement [of the appeal for an armistice] till tomorrow afternoon.
If, on the contrary, the formation of the Government should be in any way doubtful, I consider it desirable that the declaration should be issued to foreign Governments tonight.
By what body, did not apparently concern Hindenburg, who was to be astonished the following day, when it was revealed at a Crown Council that Prince Max had failed to obey what had surely been a clearly worded instruction. The new Chancellor, moreover, voiced strong opinions to the effect that such a precipitate appeal to the enemy was the most certain way to invite the severest possible conditions of peace, and in any case was probably unnecessary. He was abruptly silenced by the Kaiser who coldly informed him that whatever his own opinions, the Supreme Command considered an immediate appeal for peace absolutely essential, a statement which was confirmed the following day (October 3rd) by another telegram from Hindenburg which brusquely announced:
The Supreme Command insists on its demand of Sunday 29th September that a peace offer to our enemies be issued at once.
In view of the increasingly indignant tones in which the Supreme Command addressed messages to the Chancellor, until he finally acceded to their demands on October 4th and telegraphed President Wilson, it will always remain a matter of speculation whether outraged authority played as large a part in the collapse of the German war machine as did unfounded panic. Panic, or at least failure of will on Ludendorff’s part, was certainly the prime factor – and that it was unfounded became evident during the ensuing days.
The vast size of modern armies, their complexities of organization and their diversity of arms, have all contributed to specialization of role, and comparative isolation within it. One of these roles is that of command, and the danger of its losing touch with actuality is common to all armies.
Haig was virtually unknown to his troops, except by photograph or recruiting poster; so was Foch, so had been Gough. So was Ludendorff – for the industry and competence which had qualified him for co
mmand had also kept him at his desk. He had therefore seen events through the reports which arrived on it, and interpreted them in the light of his own knowledge, experience, intuition or imagination. From these he had drawn, during September, the conclusion that his country’s forces were on the brink of defeat, and so he had insisted that an armistice be asked for.
He had been considerably mistaken.
Although the Allied armies had jumped forward along almost the entire length of the most fiercely contested sector of the Western Front, this jump was to be followed by no vast flooding of Allied troops across liberated country, no annihilation of the German armies. These were, in fact, to be guarded from further Allied onslaught by a combination of three factors which between them gave greater protection than that of the Hindenburg Line. In the north, the Belgians, the French Sixth Army and Plumer’s British Second Army were held up by much the same obstacles as had brought every Allied attack in that area to a halt – rain, mud, and the consequent impossibility of supplying the forward troops with food, ammunition or reinforcement, and although the Passchendaele Ridge had been in British hands by the evening of September 29th, no further progress was made before October 14th, as until then all available labour was needed to build roads through swamps. There was also a disinclination on the part of troops of all nations present to get themselves killed when the war might soon be over.
Further south, Horne’s, Byng’s and Rawlinson’s armies had by a combination of concentrated onslaughts on narrow sectors of the Siegfried Position followed by leverage to widen the penetrations and so link up, smashed through the entire width of the main German fortifications by October 6th. Their success had been extraordinary and only achieved by considerable skill and determination … plus mist – which if not so thick as upon the first morning of the British crossing of the canal, or upon the morning of March 21st, had nevertheless made their progress possible. Even so, the Siegfried Line had been won only at immense cost, and by the time the Fourth Army had breached the final defences – the Beaurevoir Line – they had exhausted their strength. They were like the man who battled his way home through snow and ice, but when he reached his front door was so exhausted that he lacked the strength to turn the key and push it open. They could not, therefore, follow up the dislodged German armies and so turn their retreat into a rout.
In the Argonne the Americans were blocked by their own vast numerical superiority. It is an excellent thing in war to possess many more divisions than your enemy, especially if they are twice their size and composed of younger and fitter men – but only if you can deploy them to advantage. In an effort to break the deadlock which existed in front of the Kriemhilde Position, Pershing had brought up more and more strength, packing it tighter and tighter behind a front of fixed length, until his entire army area became choked.
Foch had made plans to clear the traffic jam in the Argonne as soon as it became apparent, but despite his experiences in the past, his suggestions entailed withdrawing American troops from the sector and employing them in others under French generals. They were therefore curtly rejected by Pershing on October 2nd and the blockage remained.
Between the two stalled offensives which had been intended as the converging pincer arms, waited the French, patiently and with what has been delicately called ‘perhaps too acute a strategic sense’. They knew their part in the plan, and appreciated its significance: if and when the British and Americans drove forward to close the neck of the sack, they would exert their gentle pressure to occupy the attention of the enemy – for Marshal Foch was surely far too much of a patriot to intend his aggressive exhortations to apply to his own countrymen. In the meantime, the news was far better than it had been for years.
To the Allied leaders the news of the pause after the opening leap forward was at first disappointing, and when they learned of its causes, alarming, so the news that President Wilson had received peace overtures from Germany, came to Lloyd George and Clemenceau as an immense relief. Upon reflection however, this relief became alloyed with considerable anxiety, for unless terms were very quickly agreed, it seemed by no means unlikely that events might serve to restore Germany’s confidence in her ability to win the war – confidence which her requests for an immediate armistice indicated that she had lost. Speed in concluding the arrangements was obviously essential. Unfortunately, speed was also impossible, for the simple reason that even if Germany were prepared to agree to the Fourteen Points of the American Peace Proposals, Britain certainly wasn’t and there were many aspects of them about which France held strong doubts.
Both countries had been too busy fighting the war and too eager to gain American support to raise the matters of disagreement beforehand – in any case, why waste time and energy arguing on matters which may never pass beyond the stage of abstract principle? Now, suddenly, these matters were of vital and urgent importance – and their urgency was lessened in no degree by the passing of time, which to President Wilson was apparently of no particular account: although he had received the German Note on October 4th, he made no attempt to open formal discussions with his allies, or even to inform them officially of its contents. They waited, therefore, with varying degrees of impatience, and growing concern, for the inscrutable but immensely powerful man in the White House to give some indication of his intentions.
President Wilson was a man of many parts. He had such a degree of political realism as to enable him, on the turbulent scene of American party politics, to achieve leadership of one party and thus to assume the position of America’s Chief Executive. Notwithstanding this, he was, on the international scene, an idealist of high principle and rigid convictions, thus displaying a dichotomy of thought that would do justice to an Irish pacifist.
Clemenceau, who admired America but wished to live in Europe, summed up European bewilderment at the difference between Wilson’s expressed Utopianism and his practised diplomacy, with the caustic comment that no man should talk like Lord God if he was going to behave the next day like Lloyd George: but then, Clemenceau was an agnostic who distrusted the British Prime Minister.
The Fourteen Points of Wilson’s Peace Proposals were, in their content and phrasing, typical of the best qualities and the highest principles to emerge from the United States. It is a great pity that human nature is so weak that it cannot live up to them, for they would undoubtedly have led to peace on earth had they been interpreted as Wilson intended. They read:
1. Open covenants of peace, openly arrived at, after which there shall be no private international understandings of any kind, but diplomacy shall proceed always frankly and in public view.
2. Absolute freedom of navigation upon the seas, outside territorial waters, alike in peace and in war, except as the seas may be closed in whole or in part by international action for the enforcements of international covenants.
3. The removal, so far as possible, of all economic barriers, and the establishment of an equality of trade conditions among all the nations consenting to the peace and associating themselves for its maintenance.
4. Adequate guarantees given and taken that national armaments will be reduced to the lowest point consistent with domestic safety.
5. A free, open-minded and absolutely impartial adjustment of all colonial claims based upon a strict observance of the principle that in determining all such questions of sovereignty the interests of the populations concerned must have equal weight with the equitable claims of the Government whose title is to be determined.
6. The evacuation of all Russian territory and such a settlement of all questions affecting Russia as will secure the best and freest co-operation of the other nations of the world in obtaining for her an unhampered and unembarrassed opportunity for the independent determination of her own political development and national policy, and assure her of a sincere welcome into the society of free nations under institutions of her own choosing, and more than a welcome, assistance also of every kind that she may need and may herself desire. The treatm
ent accorded Russia by her sister nations in the months to come will be the acid test of their goodwill, of their comprehension of her needs as distinguished from their own interests, and of their intelligent and unselfish sympathy.
7. Belgium, the whole world will agree, must be evacuated and restored without any attempt to limit the sovereignty which she enjoys in common with all other free nations. No other single act will serve to restore confidence among the nations in the laws which they have themselves set and determined for the government of their relations with one another. Without this healing act the whole structure and validity of international law is forever impaired.
8. All French territory should be freed, and the invaded portions restored, and the wrong done to France by Prussia in 1871, in the matter of Alsace-Lorraine, which has unsettled the peace of the world for nearly fifty years, should be righted in order that peace may once more be made secure in the interest of all.
9. A readjustment of the frontiers of Italy should be effected along clearly recognizable lines of nationality.
10. The peoples of Austro-Hungary, whose place among the nations we wish to see safeguarded and assured, should be accorded first opportunity of autonomous development.
11. Roumania, Serbia and Montenegro should be evacuated; occupied territories restored; Serbia accorded free and secure access to the sea; and the relations of the several Balkan States to one another determined by friendly counsel along historically established lines of allegiance and nationality; and the international guarantees of the political and economic independence and territorial integrity of the several Balkan States should be entered into.