rapid movement. The country that would have its tactical
development keep pace with science must, therefore, be pre-
pared to spend money upon experiment; its general staff should
have its research department; tactical training and scientific
research should together form the latest new Model Army.
Indeed, just as during the war every army commander had on
his staff his meteorological expert and his chemical adviser, so
surely the general staff in peace should ha~ve its chemical depart-
ment, for it is not impossible that the chemist may become as
important in war as in every great industrial enterprise.
But there is yet a third reason why future wars will certainly
produce unpleasant surprises which may even be revolutionary
in their nature. By the Treaty of Versailles the German army
was reduced to 100,000 men, but it could not alter the fact that
Germany's central position in Europe placed her in a situation
in which she believed that she must trust to arms for her exis-
tence or go under in the struggle. She has also been trained in
the belief that offence is the surest defence. Except that
Poland had taken the place of Russia on Germany's eastern
frontier, and that the Austrian Empire had disappeared, the
military problems of Central Europe remained in 1921 much
what they were before 1914. Germany was still an ambitious,
industrious nation, with 60,000,000 well-educated and intelli-
gent citizens. On the one frontier lies France, and on the other
Poland, both with large armies, and neither of them particularly
friendly to Germany. In these circumstances it was only
reasonable to assume that her policy would be to avoid war, at
least for many years to come. At the same time it was clearly
evident that her military problems must give rise to very
anxious thought. This spectacle of a rich, densely populated
country with an army regulated by treaty is, it is true, not en- '
tirely new. The same thing happened after Jena, but with the
difference that Germany was not then either rich or densely
populated. Nevertheless an answer was found to the restrictions
imposed by Napoleon. It need not be the same answer this
time, precautions against that having been taken, but there is
the alternative that Germany's effort may be to compensate
for the numerical weakness imposed upon her by scientific equip-
ment and by bringing new forces into play. The World War
showed beyond doubt that, given good leaders, a mass of un-
trained human beings could quickly be converted into an
efficient fighting force. Germany's military aim will, therefore,
naturally be to train the 100,000 men she keeps in peace-time
to become highly efficient leaders in war. Her war budget will
be high per man, for the army must be recruited on a voluntary
basis; yet the total sum will not be great compared to that of
other countries, and money will be available exactly for those
purposes of research and experiment which are seen to be so
highly important. Many years must elapse before Europe can
have recovered sufficiently from the results of the World War
to reproduce the conditions of 1914; and perhaps by that time
her peoples may have realized the futility of war as a solution
for differences of opinion or interest; but in this respect history
is far from encouraging, and all the time there will be in the cen-
tre of Europe a nation whose soldiers are thinking out war
problems on lines which must inevitably be quite different from
those followed by their neighbours. Hitherto all the military
nations have thought along similar lines. Sometimes one and
sometimes another has thrown up a great genius, the product of
whose mind had placed his own country at an advantage; but
here we have an entirely new set of problems, the solution of
which may lead to new and startling results.
In 1921 there were thus three important factors rendering it
more than ordinarily difficult to penetrate the obscurity of the
future. First, the impossibility of reproducing in peace-time
the conditions of the battle-field as we actually know them;
secondly, the effect of scientific research upon tactical evolution;
thirdly, the peculiar position of Germany and its repercussion
upon military thought. Other factors doubtless exist, for the
opening stages of every war bring their own peculiar surprises.
All that can be done is so to arrange plans that they may not be
too rigid, and may if necessary be adapted to meet the unexpected,
just as Joffre in 1914, surprised by the extent and weight of the
German turning movement through Belgium, switched his own
reserves to his extreme left and produced the counter-stroke of
the Marne and the Ourcq. This is merely an example culled
rather from strategy than tactics, but it serves to illustrate the
fact that, in war, the great contest between brain and brain, it
is the unforeseen which happens. The real difficulty is to antic-
ipate the problem rather than to solve it. Never in the history
of the world have tactical problems received such close attention
and study as during the years just prior to 1914. With one
great war just finished and the shadow of another hanging
heavily over Europe, discussions on strategy and tactics filled
the columns of newspapers and magazines not only of the pro-
fessional but also of the general press. The general staffs of
all nations worked out theories and doctrines of war, and the
official handbooks gave the armies the considered opinions of
the best military brains in each country. The conflicting sys-
tems of envelopment and penetration were weighed and con-
sidered, with the result that military training could be classified
in two clearly defined systems, sometimes called for convenience
the French and the German. The real value and capabilities
of quick-firing artillery and the necessary infantry formations
with which to meet it were thrashed out in theory, and so far as
possible by experiment, for, although the French " 75 " was
already an old gun, its effects had never really been tested on the
TACTICS
673
battle-field. Meanwhile Germany introduced her heavy field
howitzer and England her long-range field gun. The probable
effect of these new factors in war were weighed, discussed and
fairly accurately foreseen. But surprise came elsewhere, for
the factor which was neglected was the power of the railways to
maintain in the field such armies as the world had never beheld,
with what we can now see was only the natural corollary
field fortifications impregnable to the material which armies
then possessed, and by their strength and extent rendering
impossible both envelopment and penetration. The truth is
that it is less difficult to find the correct answer to the questions
which are asked by history, experience and such foresight as
we possess, than to foretell and ask the really vital questions.
III. THE ART OF LEADERSHIP
So far we have dealt almost entirely with the mechanism of
war, the tactics of 1914-8, and possible future developments.
There remains the all-important subject of command, and the
qualities which go to make a great commander the human
element for without true leadership arms and equipment and
even training will achieve but little. " With a great general no
action is executed which is the fruit of chance or fortune; every-
thing is the result of combination and talent " (Napoleon's War
Maxims, No. 82). Such was the considered opinion of the
great master of war, and it can be confidently asserted that
nothing has happened since he fought his last, and perhaps his
most wonderful, campaign in 1815 to shake it. Surely no com-
mander ever took greater risks than did Napoleon in the series
of operations which ended at Waterloo, but they were the result
of careful study and calculation and they came near to victory
over almost double his numbers. Even now who can say what
might have happened but for failure of his physical power and
energy at the most critical moments, for surely England and
Europe were never in greater danger than during the forty-eight
hours after the Prussians had been beaten on the field of Ligny.
How curious to reflect that a little more than a hundred years
later the descendants of those who stood at Waterloo should
have fought out another campaign on a vastly greater scale but
on very similar lines and on ground not very far distant. The
combatants were differently grouped, it is true, but the German
blow in March 1918 was directed at the junction of the Allied
armies, this time the British and the French, just as in 1815 the
French blow was struck at the junction between Wellington
and Blucher. Once again the British army was based on north-
ern ports, while her ally was based on inland territory; once
more the allies were for a time in danger of retiring along diver-
gent lines and perhaps of defeat in detail. Numbers and weap-
ons were different from those of 1813, but the main features of
the campaign and the principles upon which it was fought out
were the same. So true it is that the principles of war are sim-
ple and eternal, but the application of them varies in each par-
ticular case. Never yet has there been a great commander who
has not read and thought deeply about his art in order that, by
training his instinct on the right lines, he may decide correctly
when the supreme hour arrives. It is not in order .that we may
master the principles of war that Napoleon has advised us to
: " read and reread the campaigns of Alexander, Hannibal, Gus-
tavus, Turenne, Eugene and Frederick," but in order that we
May " obtain the secrets of the art of war," and those secrets
lie in application.
How strange, too, that of the great names which will go down
:o history in connexion with the campaign of 1918 two at least
ire those of men who had seen little or nothing of war before
1914 Foch and Ludendorff. For more than forty years Foch
lad no experience of anything but peace soldiering; Ludendorff
icard an enemy's rifles and saw his own men drop for the first
:ime in his life near Vise on Aug. 4 1914. Both had mastered
; :very detail of their art, not in the open field but in the solitude
)f the study. Each in his own way was an artist, but of the two
t Was Foch who had the inspiration, " the fire in his belly,"
vhich is the sign of the true master. Yet it is not enough to
ollow the movements even of these two, for all wars will not be
xxxn. 22
fought either with the numbers or the weapons of 1918 any
more than with the weapons and over the extent of ground of
1815. Something between the two may be found to be nearer
to the normal, but when due allowance is made for later inven-
tion, surely no campaign is better worth studying than this of
1815. Fought out between two great captains in the space of a
few days and over a few miles of country, it forms a very epit-
ome of war in all its branches. The doubt up to the last
moment as to Napoleon's intentions; the strategical surprise; a
concentrated force with one line of communication operating
between two forces with divergent lines; the handling of D'Erlon's
force and the attempt to effect a concentration on the battle-
field at Ligny; the British and Belgian rearguard action at
Quatre Bras and the retreat to Waterloo; Wellington's masterly
disposition of troops as contrasted with Blucher's two days
earlier; his telling use of advance posts, Hougoumont and La
Haye Sainte, breaking up Napoleon's massed attacks; the con-
centration of forces on the field and the great counter-stroke
against Napoleon's right and rear, so largely the result of
Blucher's loyalty and force of character; finally the stupendous
defeat, the inevitable result of this most difficult manoeuvre
when successfully accomplished, as it was here, at Koniggratz
and on one or two other occasions in history; and the relentless
pursuit. They were indeed crowded days of glory. And then
Wellington's characteristic comment: "A damned serious busi-
ness. Blucher and I have lost 30,000 men. It has been a
damned nice thing, the nearest run thing you ever saw in your
life. ... By God! I don't think it would have done if I had
not been there." 1
Since those days Moltke has perfected the art of marching to
the battle-field, of concentration by many different roads upon a
single objective, and we have seen the same manoeuvre devel-
oped under more difficult circumstances at Liao-yang. Arising
from Moltke's tactics, so closely followed by Oyama in Man-
churia, there have been many fierce disputes upon the compara-
tive virtues of envelopment and penetration on the battle-field.
Yet all these theories, these varying systems and bitter discus-
sions, are based upon one solid foundation, the development of
fire; for from the days of the long-bow to those of the modern
tank it is to the development of fire that all changes in tactics
are directly due. To-day, more than ever before, the power of
developing fire is in the hands of the commander who seizes and
retains the initiative. This he may do either through superior
readiness for war and quicker mobilization, through a better
strategical plan, or through superior numbers. In any case he
will require superiority in the air, and better, more numerous or
more skilfully handled covering troops, cavalry and rapid tanks.
Decisive battle will be the object, and the experience of the
World War would appear to prove that quick decision can only
be obtained through envelopment. Converging lines of com-
munication drawn from widely separated bases may then be a
positive advantage, especially since the rapid means of com-
munication now available have overcome much of their danger.
Moreover, so devastating is the effect of converging or enfilade
fire from modern weapons that the troops exposed to it are in
deadly danger. An attacking force, it is true, may conceal an
exposed flank by the skilful use of smoke, but not so the defend-
ing force, and the increased range and rapidity of modern arms
are on the side of the attack rather than of the defence. Each
commander will, therefore, strive with all his energy and will
power to secure the initiative at the outset of a campaign;
every artifice will be used and every engine will be employed.
Sooner or later, however, one or other of the combatants will be
forced to the defensive, but, if he is master of his art he will not
resign himself to his fate any more than did Wellington and
Blucher in 1815 or Joffre in 1914. He will devote all his skill
and resource to recovering his freedom of action and to assuming
that domination over events which will enable him, in his turn,
to impose his will upon his adversary.
This change of fortune can only be brought about by a tactical
counter-stroke, exactly as was done by the Entente armies in
1 The Creevy Papers, vol. i., chap. x.
674
TACTICS
1914 and again in 1918. On each occasion they aimed at the
envelopment of the enemy forces, for the very successes which
had brought the Germans so close to Paris afforded to a com-
mander, sufficiently skilful to seize it, the opportunity to deliver an
enveloping counter-attack the very opening he needed. Thus
it is clear that even to-day, provided the opposing armies are
well led, neither can have the monopoly of enveloping move-
ment or fire development, but that, as has always been the case
in war, " everything must be the result of combination and
talent." So it is that so soon as a great commander finds that,
for one reason or another, the initiative has passed from him he
will think only of the counter-offensive whereby he is to regain
it. He cannot wait, like Wellington at Salamanca, or Napoleon
at Austerlitz, and watch his enemy commit a fatal error, for
modern battle-fields are too vast, and mistakes are committed
too far from the field of action. His aeroplanes will no doubt
bring him much useful information, but before he can turn it to
advantage the whole situation may have altered. 1 He cannot,
therefore, so plan his battle as to make the action of his reserve,
or striking force, dependent upon some chance or fleeting
opportunity. Instead he must form some new plan, some new
combination of his own, and carry it through with undiminishcd
audacity and resolution. It is, perhaps, this blindness of the
commander which has brought about the greatest change of all
in modern grand tactics, for he cannot now survey the whole
even of his own force, and much more than formerly he is de-
pendent upon his subordinates, who must, in Napoleon's phrase,
" understand his system " if he is to be well served.
But there is another aspect of the matter. With weapons of
still longer range and greater accuracy than our modern artillery,
with small-bore weapons of still greater rapidity of fire than the
Maxim or the Lewis gun, fronts will become more and more
extended, and the establishment of continuous lines will be
possible even to comparatively small armies. It will be easier
to use natural obstacles for the protection of flanks, which will
become more difficult to find and to turn. In this respect the
defence would appear to have gained a distinct advantage over
the attack, in that frontal assaults are likely to become more
inevitable. The indirect result of the increased volume of fire
seems, therefore, to be more important than the direct effect.
Against this it is possible to put forward the suggestion that
frontal attacks are actually less to be feared than they were.
Formerly they had two disadvantages first, that they were
desperately costly in life ; secondly, that at the best they resulted
merely in the tactical retirement of the enemy, not to his destruc-
tion or to any great and decisive strategical result. Now, how-
ever, owing to the same increase of fire power which has strength-
ened the defence, it is possible for the assailant to make all his
dispositions for attack out of sight of and unperceived by any
enemy who elects to stand purely on the defensive. Little
more than a hundred years ago Napoleon drew up his army in
front of La Belle Alliance in full view of Wellington on the slopes
of Waterloo; a few years earlier Marmont had manceuvred in
front of Wellington at Salamanca and met his doom exactly as
had Kutusov, for exactly the same reason, at Austerlitz. All
this is now changed, and in 1918 Ludendorff showed how, even
without command of or even superiority in the air, it is possible
for the assailant to make his arrangements for attack without
being detected; and this instance is the more remarkable since
his intention had been foreseen and his troop movements were at
least suspected. It is this power of massing unseen against the
portion of the front selected for attack that gives the assailant
his principal chance of success, even should the attack not come
as a complete surprise. Moreover, the very extension of the
front which, by our hypothesis, has rendered the frontal attack
inevitable, makes it extremely difficult for the defender to ensure
that his reserves are best placed for resistance. Even with
superiority in the air and good intelligence, a commander who
has lost the initiative and has been forced to stand on the defen-
sive cannot be absolutely certain when the blow will fall. With
1 Moreover, so many movements will be carried out at night that
even the aeroplanes will miss a great deal.
his widely extended lines, it is more than probable that he ha?
several delicate points to guard, failure at any one of which
would give the enemy some considerable strategical advantage.
Hence the disposal of the reserves intended to be used for defence
becomes a matter of extreme difficulty, and unless the assailant's,
intention is exactly anticipated, as is not very probable, much
priceless time must be lost in moving them to the point of dan-
ger, and meanwhile the assailant may have secured an initial
advantage of which it will be extremely difficult to deprive him.
This brings us to the second weakness of frontal attacks thej
difficulty of winning any real strategical result. That weakness.
was very real so long as the only result of defeat was to compel'
an army, as in the Russo-Japanese War, to retire along its line:
of communications to a fresh position somewhat nearer to its
base. But with modern lines, extended even more widely than
in Manchuria, a new tactical idea has been evolved. Partly
owing to our enlarged ideas on the massing and use of artillery,
partly owing to the improved engines of destruction which
brought a great accession of strength to the attack, and partly-
owing to the tactical use of aeroplanes, there grew up that idea of
a " break-through " which was completely realized in the World'
War only in Palestine, but which came near to accomplishment;
in France in March 1918. But perhaps the factor which con-
tributes most to the chance of a successful " break-through " is:
that very difficulty in the disposal and handling of reserves to'
which reference has just been made. In this connexion it must!
be remembered that tanks have given the attacking force anj
altogether new power of pushing home an initial success with;
rapidity and vigour. In place of the slow-moving infantry!
which laboured painfully through the shell-torn swamps of the
Somme or the Passchendaele ridges, we may well sec a strong
force of tanks, able to move at a steady pace for several hours on;
end, turning defeat into rout, disorganizing communications!
and spreading panic before reserves can be brought from dis-
tant parts of a widely extended battle-line. Hence it would seem
that just those developments which give to the defender the;
power to defend his flanks and to guard against envelopment'
have at the same time given to the frontal attack a greater!
chance of success than it ever had.
In this case it may be asked, How should the commander who
has lost the initiative and been compelled to stand on the defen-j
sive attempt to recover control of his campaign ? The answer is,;
by exactly the same methods as those by which Foch recovered
it in July 1918 that is to say, by counter-attack. There is nol
other means. And this is true whether the attack be enveloping'
or frontal, and it is if possible more essentially true than ever
before, since, owing to the distance to be covered, reserves
which are held for purely defensive action are in great danger ofj
being too late. Not only can they not win a battle; they may I
well be too late to save it. Thus even the briefest consideration
of defence brings us to the old conclusion that attack must be met,
by counter-attack, that offence is still the soul of defence, and that'
the true role of the reserves in a defensive action is to convert it into an.
offensive one. These are but the oldest principles of battle
fighting, true from the days of Alexander the Great until to-day,
but always put into practice by new means and new methods.
This is the essence of Marshal Foch's own appreciation of
Napoleon (London Times, May 5 1921):
" Often during the darkest days of the war we used to ask our-
selves what Napoleon would do with the armies of to-day. . . .
This is what he would have said : ' You have millions of men ; I never
had them. You have railways, telegraphs, wireless, aircraft, long-
range artillery, poison gases; I had none of them. Yet you make'
nothing of them. Stand aside while I show you how to use them.' !
In a month, or perhaps two, he would have changed everything,
reorganized everything, employed everything in some new way, and |
crushed the bewildered enemy."
There in a few words we have the marshal's views on his
great predecessor. It is not that he would have discovered
some spectacular and dramatic way of winning the war, but
merely that he would have bent scientific discovery to his own
ends and put each new invention to its proper tactical use.
Thus he would have won battles, and when he had finished his
TAFT TAGORE
675
work all would have appeared obvious and simple. That is the
way of the artist; and the great tactician is a supreme artist.
(N. M.*)
TAFT, LORADO (1860- ), American sculptor (see 26.354),
was elected to the National Academy in 1911. He was director
of the American Federation of Arts from 1914 to 1917 and in
the latter year was appointed a member of the board of art
advisers for the state of Illinois. He received a silver medal
at the Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco, 1915. His
recent works include: "Black Hawk" (1912, figure of an Ameri-
can Indian, at Oregon, 111.); Thatcher Memorial Fountain (1918,
at Denver, Colo.); and "The Fountain of Time" (1920, at
Chicago). In 1921 he published Recent Tendencies in Sculpture.