Of the seven German armies in the field it was von Kluck’s First Army which had the task of maintaining the risky right flanking sweep to the west of Paris before turning east to complete the encirclement of the French Army. At 68-years-old he was the same age as von Bülow but there the similarity ended. The First Army commander was essentially more combative in style and, as we have seen, maverick in temperament. At the beginning of the campaign the First Army fielded over 200,000 men and some 750 guns. By the end of August this had been reduced by 20,000 as the toll of those killed or missing in action, together with nearly 10,000 who had simply fallen out with exhaustion, heat stroke and hunger, had reduced many units to below half strength. They had marched over 300 miles in the heat of August, had two serious encounters with the BEF, been in constant contact with British and French rearguard forces and faced the prospect of more of the same. Von Kluck’s decision to ignore the OHL directive of 2 September was almost certainly motivated by his personal desire to maintain his role as the right hook which delivered the final blow to the French as they were driven south. This inflexible view – shared it must be said by von Kuhl – was partly responsible for his failure to fully realize the threat of French General Michel-Joseph Maunoury’s Sixth Army on his right. But von Kluck was no fool; he had taken measures to protect his right flank by detaching the fifteen battalions and supporting artillery of Hans von Gronau’s IV Reserve Corps. The notion that his right flank was wide open is incorrect.
The discovery of a map that had been retrieved from a dead German Guard Cavalry officer on 1 September providentially supplied corroboration of French air reconnaissance reports that German forces were moving east and attempting to outflank the Fifth Army. The captured map showed clearly the German First Army order of battle and the lines of advance. It was all the evidence which was needed to confirm von Kluck’s change of direction. Up until this point the idea of the Battle of the Marne had not been conceptualized on the map table of the French commander-in-chief but now General Joseph Joffre realized that if the two armies which formed the German right flank could be enticed into the ‘net’ which now hung between the ‘horns’ of Paris and Verdun he could give battle and perhaps achieve the breakthrough all of France had been waiting for. If the Ninth and Fourth French Armies could hold the centre of this 200 mile wide net, the armies on each flank could catch the Germans in a pincer movement. Furthermore, if the French could disrupt the German lines of communication they stood a chance of destroying the invader once and for all.
It was the first time a plan looked coherent enough to suggest success but in order for all the pieces of the allied jigsaw to fit, Joffre required the cooperation of the BEF whose commander-in-chief, Sir John French was not at his best in these opening weeks of the Great War. He and his staff had been badly shaken by the retreat of the BEF from Mons and it was Sir John’s considered opinion that the small British force of five divisions required urgent re-fitting and recuperation before it could re-engage the enemy. Not only did this expose Sir John’s overall misunderstanding of the magnitude of the events he and the BEF were now caught up in but underlined his somewhat entrenched distrust of all things French.
By 3 September Joffre’s plans for a counter attack were falling into place. Commanded by Maurice Sarrail, the French Third Army faced the German Fifth Army opposite Verdun, the Fourth and Ninth Armies under Fernand de Langle de Cary and Ferdinand Foch held the centre opposite von Hausen’s Third Army. Between the Fifth Army – now under the command of the more dynamic General Franchet d’ Espèrey – and Maunoury’s Sixth Army, a gap existed which Joffre anticipated would be filled by the BEF.
The optimism expressed to his chief by Louis Franchet d’Espèrey went some way to assuring Joffre that the British would take their place on the right of the French Sixth Army and fill the gap between d’ Espèrey’s left and Maunoury’s right. But Joffre still harboured doubts about the commitment of the British Commander-in-Chief. The cooperation of the BEF on the right flank of the Sixth Army was vital and with this in mind General Maunoury was despatched to the British GHQ at Melun on 4 September where, in Sir John’s absence, the chief of staff, Sir Archibald Murray, agreed to British involvement – subject of course to Sir John’s approval. But even at this juncture there was apparently some confusion as to when exactly Joffre intended to begin his attack. Under the false impression that it was 7 September and that the BEF was required to retire further south to make way for the French Sixth Army to move into position on its left, Murray issued Operational Order No. 16 which instructed the BEF to continue its retirement the following morning.
Later on 4 September Joffre ordered the offensive to begin a day earlier – on 6 September – a decision which did not reach GHQ until nearly 4.00am on the 5th by which time it was too late to prevent some of the British units from continuing their retirement. There was still ample time, however, to halt the movement of the BEF before it concluded its day’s march. Despite his apparent enthusiasm it appears very much as though Sir John French was not entirely convinced of the effectiveness of Joffre’s plan and was intending to create a buffer zone which would provide the BEF with room to continue the retreat should that be necessary.
However, seizing the opportunity before him, Joffre planned to launch his counter-offensive on the morning of 6 September 1914. The French Sixth Army – which was all that stood between the German First Army and Paris – was poised to strike at the right flank of von Kluck’s First Army but still needed time to fall into position. Early on 5 September Maunoury marched his ten infantry divisions to a line northwest of Meaux from where he anticipated engaging the German First Army along the Marne the next day. Maunoury’s cavalry screen let him down badly, although they found no German forces along the line of march, they completely overlooked the presence of von Gronau’s IV Reserve Corps and the first shots of the Battle of the Marne were fired from the high ground around Monthyon – a day earlier than Joffre had intended. Severely under strength and outnumbered by the units of the French Sixth Army, the German IV Reserve Corps held on for the remainder of the day finally withdrawing that evening northeast towards Puisieux.
Nevertheless, the damage had been done. Not only had Maunoury been prevented from crossing the River Ourcq but the element of surprise had evaporated. Von Kluck now knew his right flank was in serious trouble and typically turned to meet the new threat by attacking across the Ourcq. Orders were dispatched to Sixt von Arnim’s IV Corps and von Linsingen’s II Corps, now south of the Marne and approaching Pécy, to about turn and march post-haste to add weight to von Gronau’s positions which he had now taken up north of the River Thérouanne. It was the execution of these orders which Major Tom Bridges and 4/Royal Irish Dragoons witnessed with incredulity on the morning of 6 September 1914. The British cavalrymen were positioned at the high water mark of von Kluck’s advance and, had they but known it, were witnesses to events which began the process of opening a substantial gap between von Kluck’s left wing and the right wing of von Bülow’s Second Army.
The so-called gap occurred as von Kluck swung his forces through ninety degrees to face Maunoury and was increased by Bülow whom – without first informing the First Army – pulled back his right flank beyond the Petit Morin River on 7 September, claiming his troops were too tired to take on another frontal assault by the French Fifth Army. It was an altogether surprising move by the Second Army commander; while von Kluck was preparing to attack Maunoury to the west, Bülow was in fact pulling his right flank back northeast. He must have realised he was widening the existing gap and gambled on his First Army counterpart falling into line as instructed by Moltke. In his defence von Bülow cited the OHL directive of 2 September and maintained that the First Army’s role was to protect his flank, he was adamant that von Kluck should pull back from his counter offensive against Maunoury and fall into line with the Second Army.
Von Kluck was equally obstinate in his view that the only possible course of action was to destroy Mau
noury’s Sixth Army before the BEF appeared on the left of Franchet d’ Espèrey’s Fifth Army and pushed through the gap. It was a concern which was confirmed later on 7 September when German cavalry observed the British vanguard advancing over the Grand Morin River at La Ferté-Gaucher, a movement which served only to galvanize von Kluck in his offensive against the Sixth Army. The morning of 8 September would thus see two battles: von Kluck and Maunoury on the line of the Ourcq and von Bülow and Franchet d’ Espèrey on the Grand and Petit Morin.
Reinforcements for Maunoury’s Sixth Army in the form of the French 7th Infantry Division began arriving from Paris by rail on the night of 7 September, but mindful of a possible breakdown in the railway network, Joseph Gallieni famously decided to send the 103rd and 104th Infantry Regiments by road using a fleet of several hundred Paris taxi cabs. But it is here that the story which has become a part of almost every account of the Battle of the Marne falters. The true picture of this dash to save the Sixth Army is one of traffic chaos, mechanical breakdown and missed destinations which did little more than create pandemonium on the 30 mile stretch of road between Gagny and Nanteuil-les-Meaux. While it may have been a successful publicity scoop for Gallieni, ‘militarily’ wrote Herwig, ‘it was insignificant’.
Yet despite this the French plan for victory was in trouble. In several places they had been pushed back with heavy losses and Von Kluck’s encounter with Maunoury was very much in the balance. Maunoury had already prepared Joffre for a retreat with his declaration that if von Kluck attacked him again he would retire to the west, secretly – as the French Official History confirms – he had already issued orders to that effect. But it was now that the fog of war – created by an almost complete lack of lucid communication between OHL and the German First and Second Armies – descended in the form of Colonel Richard Hentsch, chief of the OHL’s Intelligence Section.
Doubt and uncertainty was undermining the decision making process at German General Headquarters. Von Moltke was losing his nerve and since 5 September he and the staff at OHL had had no clear idea as to what exactly was taking place on the Marne. Reports from the front were often contradictory and suggested that the First and Second Armies were in danger of being outflanked by the French Fifth Army and the BEF by exploiting the gap between the two. In the mind of von Moltke the worst-case scenario would see von Kluck forced further to the west, surrounded and destroyed, resulting in defeat and a long drawn out retreat. If the line of the Marne was impossible to hold then the First and Second Armies must retire north to close the gap. In a move which was to prove the most contentious of the entire campaign, von Moltke sent Richard Hentsch to the front to establish exactly what was happening.
Although nothing was ever put in writing, it is almost certain that Hentsch was given full powers by Moltke to initiate a retirement of the German right wing if the First Army’s situation demanded it. Hentsch left OHL in Luxembourg to complete a full assessment of the strategic situation, arriving at German Fifth Army headquarters at Varennes-en-Argonne on 8 September. Later that day he motored to Courtisols to confer with the Fourth Army and then to Châlons-sur-Marne where he met Ernst von Hoeppner, the chief of staff for the Third Army. It was only after his arrival in the late afternoon at Montmort-Lucy to hear von Bülow’s appraisal of the Second Army’s situation, that the cautious optimism generated by his earlier discussions would be dashed.
Von Bülow was unwavering in his criticism of von Kluck’s failure to remain in echelon with his Second Army and of the apparently separate battle he was now fighting on the Ourcq with Maunoury’s Sixth Army. According to its commander, the Second Army was in no condition to continue its offensive and, he explained to Hentsch, matters were being made worse, by the ever widening gap between the two armies, a gap which was in great danger of being exploited. The Second Army, reiterated Bülow, could only maintain its present line of battle if the First Army withdrew to the east, away from the Ourcq, to link up with Second Army along the northern side of the Marne and thereby close the gap. By the end of the meeting there was no doubt in Hentsch’s mind where von Bülow felt the blame for the current crisis should rest: solely and completely with the First Army.
The German Second Army was, in truth, in a potentially difficult position. Franchet d’Espèrey’s Fifth Army was hotly engaged with von Bülow’s right wing and the BEF had finally put in an appearance between the two armies. Although more of a potential menace than an actual threat, it added to the weight of pessimism which was gripping German Second Army headquarters. If von Bülow remained in position there was no guarantee that either von Hausen on his left or von Kluck on his right would be victorious. It was this precarious situation which dominated Hentsch’s thoughts as he drove over to First Army headquarters early on the morning of 9 September. Yet almost as soon as Hentsch had left Montmort that morning, von Bülow – alarmed by intelligence of allied forces crossing the Marne between La Ferté-sous-Jouarre and Château Thierry – ordered the Second Army to retreat north of the Marne, informing OHL and von Kluck that he was moving north to avoid being outflanked.
At Mareuil-sur-Ourcq, Hentsch met von Kuhl, the First Army’s chief of staff, who reportedly greeted him with the words: ‘Well if the Second Army’s going back, we can’t stay here either.’7 Despite the sour tone of the greeting, von Kuhl brought his OHL colleague quickly up to speed. The French Sixth Army had attacked in force that morning along the Ourcq and aerial reconnaissance had confirmed the BEF’s advance into the gap north of the Petit Morin River. Von Gronau’s IV Reserve Corps had been reduced significantly by the fighting but, added Kuhl, the situation was now under control with the arrival of the German IV and IX Corps. Incredibly neither officer conferred with von Kluck who was literally within hailing distance at his command post. Kuhl’s confidence in the First Army being able to envelop Maunoury’s left flank, and the total dismissal of any ability the BEF may have had of endangering the First Army’s position, astounded Hentsch. There were too many imponderables at stake and it was clear to him that retreat was a necessity rather than an option. History has subsequently blamed Richard Hentsch for the German failure on the Marne but in reality he didn’t initiate the retreat as it had already been set in motion by von Bülow earlier that morning. Reaching for the map which was spread out before them, Hentsch drew on it the lines of retreat which would begin the First Army’s withdrawal to the Aisne valley.
Thus the Battle of the Marne was not decided by outstanding generalship or even by von Kluck’s change of direction to the east of Paris, it was, as Correlli Barnett points out, a victory handed ‘to the French and British by an unjustifiable failure of nerve and resolution on the part of the German command’.8
Was the Battle of the Marne over or was the cessation of the fighting phase merely a pause for breath while German forces retired to regroup behind the Aisne River? Herwig suggests that the Marne was the culmination of a series of battles which had begun with the French reversals in the earlier Battle of the Frontiers fought in eastern France and Belgium. There are grounds for extending this argument further and it is not entirely out of the question to suggest that the battles which opened with the German invasion of France and Belgium in early August 1914 were not concluded on the Marne but finally culminated on the high ground north of the River Aisne where the concept and the tangible manifestation of the Western Front was born.
Chapter 2
A Slow and Cautious Advance
Our pursuit could not be called vigorous, but then we were still a somewhat jaded army.
Major Tom Bridges – Alarms and Excursions
Although Operational Order No. 16 signalled the final day of the BEF’s retreat from Mons it still subjected the British Army to another full day’s retirement in the wrong direction. For the officers and men of the 2nd Battalion Oxford and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry (2/Ox & Bucks) the reality of this was a further march of 10 miles which began from the field at Le Fay where they had spent the night of 4 September. That ev
ening as Lieutenant Colonel Henry Davies – now in receipt of orders from 5 Infantry Brigade to advance the next day – surveyed his tired and footsore battalion bivouacked in yet another field northeast of Pézarches, he reflected on the thirteen days he and his men had been in retreat since the encounter at Mons on 23 August.
‘Between 24th August and 5th September we did 178 miles in 12 marches and 1 halt day … Never in my life have I felt anything like the degree of tiredness which I felt on this retreat. Everyone felt like this. I remember that we wondered if we should ever feel rested again and whether it would leave some permanent effect on us. The worst thing was the want of sleep. The next worst thing the heat of the sun and the thirst … More than half the men were reservists who in spite of the route marches had not got into proper condition for the marching and consequently there were a good many sore feet … We usually had no ambulances with us so that even the men who fell down unconscious with sun-stroke had to be got along on transport of some kind or on artillery limbers.’
Despite the physical hardships of the retreat, the experience of Davies and his men, who were part of General Douglas Haig’s I Corps, had been relatively straightforward. Unlike several other brigades of I Corps they escaped the weight of the pursuing German forces and over the course of the retreat lost only one man.
Saturday 5 September began, for the majority of Lieutenant General Smith-Dorrien’s II Corps units as it had for the previous thirteen days, with another long march. The II Corps experience since arriving in France had been very different to that of I Corps; not only had Smith-Dorrien’s command fought a defensive battle at Mons but it had also stood again a few days later at Le Cateau on 26 August. To the men of the 1st Battalion Northumberland Fusiliers (1/NF) the news that they were to advance the next day was greeted with both relief and anticipation. At last they were going to get to grips with the enemy again. The Fusiliers had embarked for Le Havre with the 3rd Division on 13 August with 28 officers and 988 NCOs and men on the SS Norman. At Mons two companies of Fusiliers had defended a stretch of the Mons-Condé Canal by the lifting bridge at Mariette and afterwards fought a desperate rearguard action through Frameries. A few days later at the battle of Le Cateau they fought at Inchy alongside the three other battalions of 9 Infantry Brigade. Now, having arrived at Châtres after a long night march the battalion adjutant transcribed the names and regimental numbers of every casualty suffered by the battalion from enemy action. It was a long list, the battalion’s war diary detailed over ninety men killed and wounded, not to mention those who had fallen by the wayside and were still on record as missing. But this was only the prelude to what was to come.
BEF Campaign on the Aisne 1914 Page 3