David Zabecki and Jonathan Boff have described the course of Operation Michael in some detail in chapters 4 and 5. The extent of the French intervention in this battle in support of the BEF, and of the Fifth Army in particular, is worth highlighting here. Although the Gallic assistance appeared slow to the British, it not only met the timescale originally agreed before the German offensive, but also vastly exceeded it in scale. On his own initiative, on 21 March 1918 Pétain had ordered the move of French reserves before Haig requested them. The fate of Fifth Army’s III Corps (58th, 18th, and 14th divisions) on the extreme right of the British line is indicative of how much Allied formations were intermeshed in a common fight. The first French reinforcement, the 125th Division from the neighbouring Sixth Army, came into action during the early hours of Sunday 23 March, followed during the course of the day by the 9th Infantry and the 1st Dismounted Cavalry Division (both from Third Army). ‘Before nightfall’, as the British Official History narrates,
French troops had taken over the whole front of the III. Corps, with the exception of Condren, south of the Oise canal, which was still held by a garrison of 58th Divn troops. North of the Oise, on the right, the French 125th Division held from Viry Noureuil to Villequier Aumont (exclusive); in the centre … stood the French 1st Dismounted Cavalry Division; and on the left … were the French 9th Division and the British 14th Divn, mixed together.13
By this time, the battered remnants of the 18th Division, having been forced to abandon the Crozat Canal line at midday, were concentrated in reserve positions further to the west. The more unfortunate 14th Division, having obtained no relief through a rearward passage of lines, was left in the line. III Corps, now separated from the remainder of Fifth Army, was subordinated to Humbert’s Third French Army.
Over the course of Operation Michael, the French Army fed a steady stream of divisions into the fray in first slowing down, then blocking the German offensive. The British Official History lists 12 infantry divisions and a cavalry division, which had been deployed to assist Fifth Army up to and including 26 March 1918. By 1 April, no fewer than 32 French divisions had been brought up.14 In his biography of Foch, Liddell Hart claimed that a total of 34 infantry and six cavalry divisions were ‘assembled on or behind the 50-odd miles of new front north of the Oise’.15 To put this final French figure into perspective, it exceeds the combined total of 26 infantry and three cavalry divisions in the Third and Fifth British armies at the start of the German offensive, including reserves.
Of all the threats posed by Operation Michael, none was more dangerous to the survival of the BEF than the German advance towards Amiens, the vital British communications centre and logistics hub, although Ludendorff had failed to recognize it as such. The German offensive culminated on 4/5 April 1918 in the desperate fight for the small town of Villers-Bretonneux, lying ten miles to the east–south-east of Amiens, and for nearby Hangard village, the latter at the junction of the British and French armies.16 By this final stage of the battle, Général de Division Marie-Eugène Debeney’s French First Army, as well as the Third, was fully engaged. Without this Allied support, it is clear that the British Fifth Army (which came under the command of General Sir Herbert Rawlinson, and was renamed the Fourth on 28 March), would have fared far worse, and the German Army might even have taken Amiens. The German seizure of Montdidier on 27 March, a town of far less operational significance, provided no consolation. During Operation Michael, French and British forces had fought together, not as parallel armies as at the Somme in 1916, but closely interwoven with British formations coming under French command for limited periods. While the German offensive had failed strategically, it brought home the interdependence of Allied forces, leading directly to Foch’s historic appointment at Doullens on 26 March 1918 as overall Commander-in-Chief. Hence Operation Michael achieved a perverse outcome: Allied unity of command.17
It is true that many of the French divisions, such as the 125th, were rushed into battle in March 1918 and hence may have appeared to the British as disorganized. But operational needs must. In his memoirs, however, Gough criticized the staff work of his ally as being ‘not particularly good’, and observed their divisions arriving ‘extremely ill-equipped, short of even ball ammunition, as well as their transport and artillery’.18 Bearing in mind the substantive French contribution to holding the Allied front in the first, and arguably most dangerous, German offensive of 1918, his remarks appear somewhat ungenerous. Perhaps Gough’s poor view of Foch, who visited Fifth Army’s headquarters on 26 March, may have coloured his thinking. Their antipathy was mutual, for Foch formed an equally dim opinion of the British general. In turn, Foch, as the freshly appointed Allied generalissimo, welcomed the arrival of Rawlinson as ‘an able and energetic commander who restored [Fifth Army’s] confidence’ in Gough’s place on 28 March.19
Innovation
Each of the major armies involved in the fighting of 1918 demonstrated considerable technical and tactical innovation. Yet we must go back to 1917, if not earlier, to witness the dawn of a modern style of warfare – a development so profound that it has been termed a revolution in military affairs (RMA). It rested on a combination of near-simultaneous advances in indirect fire, fire planning, intelligence, survey, and logistics, closely synchronized with air operations and ground manoeuvre (and on the Allied side, increasingly supported by tanks). As Jonathan Bailey describes it, the ‘First World War was probably the period of most radical and rapid innovation in military history’.20 From a British perspective, it achieved its first demonstration at Cambrai in 1917, and reached its apogee during the war at Amiens in 1918. The former battle is best remembered in the United Kingdom for the first en masse employment of tanks in the attack launched on 20 November. But it also featured a largely forgotten German counter-attack on 30 November 1917 that recovered most of the ground lost. Both operations were equally significant.
A comparison between the British and German tactics and techniques at Cambrai helps us understand how the fighting developed during the following year. In many ways, their respective operations at Cambrai provided rehearsals of (a) what the German Army demonstrated on a much larger scale during Operation Michael on 21 March 1918 (and subsequent offensives to mid-July); and (b) what the BEF undertook at Amiens on 8 August 1918 and attempted thereafter. Common to both armies’ approaches, however, were critical advances in the science of artillery and the synchronization of ‘all’ arms making them more truly ‘combined’. Similar developments were also taking place in the French Army. At the same time, airpower came of age and began to have a direct impact on the conduct of war, not least during Operation Michael and the battle of Amiens.21
Taking British innovation first, it rested on parallel advances in artillery and armour, which converged effectively for the first time on the Cambrai battlefield. Together, they generated tactical surprise and shock effect. The artillery’s efforts were redirected from the destruction of the enemy’s positions, the attempt at which typically had taken several days before a major offensive, thereby compromising it (such as at the Somme prior to 1 July 1916), to much shorter neutralizing bombardments. These were launched immediately before, or at, zero hour – aimed as much at the enemy’s artillery as his defences. Based on many technological and procedural leaps in meteorology, air reconnaissance and photographic interpretation, sound-ranging, and cartography, predicted fire could now be achieved accurately and reliably without tell-tale prior registration. This new capability proved particularly important in conducting effective counter-battery fire.
Meanwhile, breaking through the enemy’s obstacle zone (mainly of thick belts of wire) and eliminating his machine-gun posts became the prime task of the tanks, which carried their own firepower (either six-pounder guns or machine guns) for direct support of the infantry. At Cambrai, no fewer than 476 tanks were assembled, a far cry from their first employment at the Somme on 15 September 1916, when only 49 Mk Is were involved and 32 made it into action. Now nine battalio
ns of tanks were massed, numbering 378 ‘fighting’ Mk IVs, a model first employed at Messines on 7 June 1917, with an additional 98 machines used on supply and other tasks. Experience gained at Third Ypres in the autumn had showed that tanks should not be employed on heavily shelled wet ground, should be massed in depth, and not be dispersed into ‘penny packets’. As the British Official History observed:
A strong reserve should be retained intact for the purpose of turning battle opportunities to account. Close co-operation between tanks and infantry was essential: each arm must understand perfectly what the other could and could not do. And tanks, as much as infantry, were dependent upon efficient counter-battery work until the enemy guns were either captured or withdrawn …22
In the event, such learning was not fully applied at Cambrai. Although the terrain was firm and not heavily cratered – hence good ‘tank country’ – the tanks were primarily employed in the initial assault (the break-in battle) in order to allow the infantry to pass through the wire. As a result, ‘no reserve echelons were spared for special employment in the exploitation of success’.23 Thus the conditions were never set for a break-out by the tanks. The only arm available for this task was the Cavalry Corps, which was given the role of surrounding and isolating Cambrai and then pushing further on to the north. Such ambitious objectives were never realized.
Cambrai, in both planning and execution, represented a nascent ‘combined arms’ battle, in which the various arms were integrated and reliant on each other for mutual support. If fully practised, such innovation promised great results. Yet Cambrai, and later battles such as Amiens in August 1918, demonstrated that it would take much further development to perfect the orchestration of combined arms on the battlefield. Once tanks and infantry crossed the line of departure it proved difficult to maintain communication, and to call on artillery to provide timely close support. Cavalry and tanks never made an ideal combination during World War I since the latter could not keep up with the former. Even the introduction of the faster (eight miles per hour) Medium Mk A Whippet tanks in addition to the five miles per hour Mk Vs (the direct successor to the Mk IVs) in 1918 did not provide a balanced solution of firepower, mobility, protection, and mobile communications – this only appeared in World War II.
The British were not alone in developing tanks. The French Army employed 125 Schneider tanks in their assault on the Chemin des Dames on 16 April 1917, which was followed up by the introduction of a heavier model, the St Chamond, the following month. Neither machine of limited cross-country capability proved a battle-winning design. The most ubiquitous French type, which first saw action on 31 May 1918, was the smaller Renault model FT-17, the first turreted tank, many of which were also used by the US Army.
Artillery, meanwhile, had numerous tasks on the battlefield. In addition to high explosive, British artillery units now employed copious quantities of gas and smoke munitions in closely integrated fire plans. By way of example, on 20 November 1917 at Cambrai:
Seventy 60pdrs fired 16,000 rounds of tear gas to force enemy gunners into respirators, to reduce their efficiency, and a smoke screen was planned to cover the advance. 18pdrs spaced every 25 metres fired smoke 300 metres ahead of the tanks, lifting from trench to trench along a 10,500-metre long front firing 93,000 rounds. At the same time the 6-inch howitzers fired 500 metres ahead of the tanks and the ‘heavies’ [eight-inch and above] fired 15-minute concentrations on selected targets.24
Apart from the extreme discomfort of their machines, one of the biggest problems British tank crews faced was the danger posed by German artillery, particularly if no suppressive counter-battery fire could be called in support. The loss in tanks sustained on 20 November 1917 through German field guns at Flesquières Ridge in the centre of the Cambrai battlefield is a case in point.
Neither the BEF nor the French Army, which had experimented with neutralizing fire plans at the battle of Malmaison (17–25 October 1917), had its own way in revolutionizing the battlefield. Although the Germans had yet to develop an effective tank, and were never able to field more than a handful of their own A7Vs or captured Allied machines at any time in 1918, they were able to make equally significant advances elsewhere. David Zabecki has already stressed the importance of Colonel Georg Bruchmüller in developing the effectiveness of the German artillery, and thus making major contributions to the initial successes scored by the German offensives in 1918. Much of Bruchmüller’s method rested on the predicted fire and counter-battery techniques practised by the Allies. Yet in many ways his approach was more sophisticated. In intense ‘hurricane’ bombardments he targeted not only defending troops, fortifications, and guns, but also the enemy’s command and control system, including observation posts, headquarters, and communications.
Apart from the First and Second Battles of Ypres in late 1914 and early 1915 respectively, the BEF had been offensively minded on the Western Front for three years. Although it shared this outlook with the French Army, unlike its ally, it had not been through the ordeal of a defensive battle such as Verdun in 1916. In 1918, however, both the British and French armies would face a major revolutionary type of German combined arms offensive, based on the generation of surprise, shock effect, and high tempo of attack, which would demand a new defensive approach. In the absence of any extant British Army doctrine on the subject other than that contained in the pre-war Field Service Regulations (FSR) of 1909, on 14 December 1917, GHQ issued a memorandum to the BEF on defensive measures.25 It stated, rather gratuitously, that ‘the general situation on the Russian and Italian Fronts may enable the enemy to release a considerable number of effectives both as formed units and as reinforcements to the Western Front’. More ominously, the document conceded that manpower pressures would ‘make it impossible for our units to be brought up to establishments’. Hence GHQ anticipated the BEF adopting a ‘defensive attitude for some time to come’. While too early to reflect specifically on recent German operations (such as those at Riga, Caporetto or Cambrai), the new instructions stated more generally:
We must accept the possibility of a strong attack being delivered against any part of our line, supported by a large concentration of artillery … [and] accept an attack by masses of infantry, offering a very vulnerable target, but preceded by an intense bombardment which may be of either long or short duration according to whether the enemy aims at success by surprise or not.26
Such assessment would hardly have helped subordinate formations in forming a practical understanding of the type of attack they would face and in preparing for it in the best possible way. GHQ offered no real guidance on how the battle was to be fought as a whole – not least on what forces should be allocated to defence and counter-attack.
At the same time, as previously mentioned, the BEF was reorganizing, losing an infantry battalion per ‘square’ brigade and so shedding precisely the element of flexibility and resilience required at that level. While the French, German, and American armies all trained and fought with three-battalion regiments of infantry, the British Army was forced to adopt an unfamiliar and untested ‘triangular’ brigade structure. As there was precious little time to prepare, let alone rehearse, an innovative scheme of defence carried considerable risk. Official doctrine on the matter was sadly lacking. Although issued in January 1918, Instructions for the Training and Employment of Divisions (SS 135) represented for the most part an update of Instructions for the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action, first published in December 1916.27 More comprehensive guidance, The Division in Defence (SS 120), was not issued until May 1918, by which time the BEF had taken the full brunt of two major German offensives, operations Michael and Georgette. In the meantime, all GHQ could offer in guidance in December 1917 were translations of German defensive doctrine: certainly better than nothing, but surely not the best way to adapt and learn on the battlefield.28 The final wartime edition of SS 135, The Division in Attack, although not published until November 1918, embodied much of what had been learnt since July
following the battles of Hamel, Amiens, and the Hindenburg Line. Against this background, historian Williamson Murray’s criticism that the British ‘never established a coherent doctrine in 1918’, while containing an element of truth, is also misleading.29
Initiative
Looking back a hundred years and more, it may at first sight seem difficult to identify much personal initiative amongst the senior generals of World War I. If the ‘butchers and bunglers’, responsible for so many losses, had demonstrated greater ability, surely the war could have been fought and won more economically?30 Mistakes seem to have been repeated time and time again, whether at Verdun, the Somme, or Third Ypres.
Each of the armies of World War I learned through a bitter cumulative experience. Although not demonstrating a steady progression (perhaps more a sine-wave than a curve), the learning process in the BEF is well documented, not least through the SS series of publications.31 The associated training regime reached its apogee during 1918 following the appointment of an Inspector General of Training, Lieutenant General Sir Ivor Maxse, in July. Doctrine and training, however, can only provide a framework of understanding. Furthermore, preparation and rehearsal provide no guarantee of success in battle, which depends on taking purposeful decisions once contact is made. Germans describe the priceless ability to assess the situation quickly and to amend plans expeditiously either to maintain or to grasp the initiative as Fingerspitzengefühl (intuitive feeling). Such intuitive decision-making, however, is the product of innate ability combined with experiential learning.
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