THE ARMY OF MANOEUVRE
While the American Army was showing its quality in the minor battles of
Seicheprey, Cantigny, Chateau-Thierry, and Vaux, and its quantity was
showing itself in leaps of hundreds of thousands of men a month, a
destiny was shaping for it, equally in circumstances and in the mind of
Generalissimo Foch, which was to be even greater than that it had
sacrificed in late March, when it submerged its identity and said: "Put
us where you will."
For when, on July 18, the fifth German offensive suddenly shivered into
momentary equilibrium and then rolled back, with Foch and the Allies
pounding behind it, and when this counter-attack developed into a
continuing offensive which was to straighten the Marne salient and throw
back the Germans from before Amiens and do the future only knows what
else besides, the Allied world said, in one voice: "Foch has found his
army of manoeuvre, and it's the Americans."
This "army of manoeuvre" has always been the king-pin of French
strategy. While the Germans were trying two systems--first, the broad
front attack which trusted to overbear by sheer weight anything which
opposed it, and, second, the so-called Hutier system of draining the
line of all its best fighters, and organizing shock troops immeasurably
above the average for offensive, while the line was held by the rag-tag
and bobtail--the French stuck to their traditional system. This was to
hold the lines with the lightest possible number of men, of the highest
possible caliber, and to thrust with a mobile force, foot-loose and
ready to be swung wherever a spot seemed likely to give way.
It was with the "army of manoeuvre," thrown up from Paris in frantic
haste by Gallieni, in taxicabs and trucks, that General Foch made the
miraculous plunge through the Saxon army at Fere-en-Tardenois, in
September, 1914, which saved the first battle of the Marne.
When General Foch became generalissimo, in late March, just after the
first German offensive on March 21 had thrown the British back, and when
the French were retreating at Montdidier, the expectation universally
was that the Allies would begin an offensive, within the shortest
possible time. Foch had been quoted all over the world as saying that
"defensive fighting was no defense." Yet April, May, and June passed,
and part of July, and except for scattering attacks along the Marne
salient, and patient rear-guard action when the retreats were necessary,
the Allies made no move.
The Austrian debacle came and went. Foch had Italy off his mind, and the
Italians were more than taking care of themselves. Still he did not
strike. And finally it became clear that he was showing this long
patience because he wanted what every Frenchman wants first in every
battle, and what he did not surely have until July--his army of
manoeuvre.
The fitness of the American Army for this brilliant use was dual: first,
that its source was virtually inexhaustible; second, that it was better
at offensive than defensive fighting.
The American Army had a quality, and the defect of that quality: it
wanted to get to Berlin regardless of tactics. And while General Foch
was trusting to time to prove to them that, pleasant or unpleasant, the
tactics had to be observed, he turned their spectacular fire and
exuberance to direct account.
Of course, the American troops in France then ready to fight could not
alone make up the Allied army of manoeuvre. They were the core of it,
however, and their growing numbers guaranteed it almost indefinitely, so
that the attack of which it was to be the backbone could safely be
begun. Some of the troops originally intended for welding with the
British and French Armies were kept in the line without change.
But in the main the statement was true: the American Army was to rove
behind the Allied lines till Foch discovered or divined a German
weakness to strike into.
In the second battle of the Marne, begun that July 18, when the Allies
took the offensive again for the first time in more than a year, the
crown prince and his army of approximately half a million were tucked
down in the Marne salient, driving for Paris. The German line came down
from Soissons to Chateau-Thierry, ran east from Chateau-Thierry along
the Marne River, then turned up again to Rheims. In a space about thirty
miles square the crown prince had imprudently poured all his troops,
which, for the fifth offensive, begun July 15, included about a third of
the man-power of the western front.
The Allied troops lying around the three sides of this salient were
French and American on the western side, Americans across the bottom,
east from Chateau-Thierry, and French, British, and Italian from the
Marne up to Rheims. While the French and British were squeezing in the
two sides at the top, it was the American job to keep the Germans from
bursting out from the bottom, and, if possible, to break through or roll
them back.
The Americans began the attack east of Chateau-Thierry, where the
Germans had crossed the Marne and lay a few miles to the south of it.
There had been lesser actions here for several days, in the process of
stopping the enemy offensive, and by the morning of the 18th the
Americans dominated the positions around the Marne. The first day of the
counter-offensive had magnificent results. The Germans were forced back
on a 28-mile front, for a depth varying from 3 to 6 miles, and the
Americans captured 4,000 prisoners and 50 guns. Twenty French towns were
delivered, and the Germans began what appeared to be a precipitate
retreat. Foch's attack was mainly on the flank of the crown prince's
army, which had been left exposed in the rush toward Epernay and
Chalons, far south of the Marne.
The infantry attack was made with little or no artillery preparation.
The German general, Von Boehm, was plainly caught napping.
The communiques of both sides were for once in agreement. The French
said: "After having broken the German offensive on the Champagne and
Rheims mountain fronts on the 15th, 16th, and 17th, the French troops,
in conjunction with the American forces, attacked the German positions
on the 18th, between the Aisne and the Marne on a front of forty-five
kilometres [about twenty-eight miles]. We have made an important
advance into the enemy lines, and have reached the plateau dominating
Soissons ... more than twenty villages have been retaken by the
admirable dash of the Franco-American troops.... South of the Ourcq our
troops have gone beyond the general line of Marizy, Ste.-Genevieve,
Hautvesnes, and Belleau."
The German communique said: "Between the Aisne and the Marne, the French
attacked with strong forces and tanks, and captured some ground." Later
in the same communique the conclusion was drawn: "The battle was decided
in our favor."
On the second day, while the march under Soissons continued, and there
were scattering gains on the Marne side, the number of Allied prisoners
grew to 17,000, and the number of guns captured to 360. Nobody could
tell, at this point, whether the crown prince's army was retreating
voluntarily or involuntarily. In many places the Germans were taken by
American soldiers from the peaceful pursuit of cutting wheat behind the
lines. Some high officers were nabbed from their beds. On the other
hand, the fact that the German rear-guard actions were chiefly with
machine-guns seemed to indicate that they were moving their heavy pieces
back in fair orderliness.
On the third day the Germans were thrown back over the Marne, and the
crown prince, having sent an unavailing plea to Prince Rupprecht for new
troops, suddenly showed fight with the crack Prussian guards.
These guards had their worst failure of the war when they met the
Americans. It is difficult to prevent the statement from sounding
offensively boastful. It is, none the less, true. The Germans, having
decided that their retreat was wearing the look of utter rout, and that
they must resist fiercely enough to stop it, risked a British
break-through to the north by throwing in Ludendorf's prize soldiers
above the Marne. And although the American total of prisoners around
Soissons had risen to nearly 6,000, and though they did force back the
Prussian guard, they did not make prisoners from their number. One
American after another told, afterward, with a sort of reluctant
admiration, that the Prussian guard had died where it stood. This
fighting near the Ourcq, and fatally near the vitals of the encircled
crown prince, was the most desperate of the second Marne battle.
On July 21 Chateau-Thierry was given up by the Germans, and the pursuing
Allies, French and American, drove the enemy beyond the highroad to
Soissons, and threatened the only highway of retreat, as well as the
German stores. The supply-centre within the salient was
Fere-en-Tardenois, and it was being raked by Allied guns from both sides
of the salient.
The character of the fighting changed again, so that again it was
impossible to make sure if Von Boehm intended to stand somewhere north
of the Marne and put up a fight, or if he intended to make all speed
back to a straight line between Soissons and Rheims. The resistance was
by machine-gun, so that Americans, having their first big experience
with the enemy, insisted that he had nothing but machine-guns to trust
to. It is, of course, possible that the crown prince and Von Boehm knew
no more than anybody else whether they were going to clear out, men and
supplies, or whether they would stop again and fight face foremost.
On July 22 the German command answered the question at least partially.
On a line well above the Marne, they brought the big guns into play, and
poured in shock troops. Airplanes from the Allied lines discovered,
however, that the Germans were burning towns and store-houses for many
miles behind the line.
The pressure on the Germans was being brought from the south, where the
Americans were six or seven miles above Chateau-Thierry, and from the
west and north, where the Franco-American troops were flaying the
exposed side.
The stiffened resistance and the German artillery slowed, but could not
stop, the Allied advance. The eastern side of the salient, from the
Marne to Rheims, bore some desperate blows, but did not give way. As the
pincers closed in, at the top of the salient, the German command
appeared to go back to its original plan of attacking Rheims from the
south.
This was the side on which British and Italian troops were co-operating
with the French, and the German command got for its pains in that
direction a counter-attack which narrowed the distance from battle-line
to battle-line across the top of the salient. The French menaced
Fere-en-Tardenois, the German base of supplies.
Allied aviators bombed these stores, the long-range guns pounded at
them, and what with these and the conflagrations started defensively by
the Germans the Marne salient was a caldron which turned the skies
blood-red.
On July 24 the ground gained all along the line averaged two miles. The
British southwest of Rheims made a damaging curve inward, and the shove
around the other two sides was fairly even.
On July 25, one week from the beginning of the offensive, the Americans
and French from the Soissons side and the British and French from the
Rheims side had squeezed in the neck of the trap till it measured only
twenty-one miles. The French arrived within three miles of
Fere-en-Tardenois, and although the German resistance increased again,
the evacuation of Fere and the removal of stores to Fismes, far up on
the straight line, were foreshadowed.
The road leading between the two supply-bases was shelled incessantly,
and the difficulties of resistance within the fast-narrowing salient
became almost superhuman. But the rear-guard of the Germans "died to a
man," to quote the observers, and the rear action held the Allied gains
to a few miles daily.
A definite retreat began on the morning of July 27, with what the airmen
reported as an obvious determination to make a stand on the Ourcq. The
forest of Fere was taken, and many villages, but the fighting was
insignificant because, in the language of the communiques, "our forces
lost contact with the enemy." Possibly this is what the famous phrase of
the Ludendorf communique, "The enemy evaded us," had in mind.
There was a certain psychological stupidity in this German decision to
make a stand on the Ourcq. It was on the Ourcq that Joffre and Foch made
the fatal stroke of the first Marne battle, and the very name of the
river inspired France.
While this retreat was in progress, the swiftest of the battle, the
German communique read: "Between the Ourcq and the Marne, the enemy's
resistance has broken down. Our troops, with those of our allies, are in
pursuit."
On the 29th the Germans crossed the Ourcq, with the Americans behind
them. The "pursuit" continued. The American troops, with French to the
right and left of them, forced the enemy to within a mile of the Vesle,
where his halt had no hope of being more than temporary. The brilliant
charge across the Ourcq was done by New Yorkers--the "fighting 69th,"
which refuses to be known by its new name of "165th." Edwin L. James,
writing of this charge for the New York _Times_, said: "There is doubt
if any chapter of our fighting reached the thrills of our charge across
the Ourcq yesterday. Americans of indomitable spirit met a veritable
hell of machine-guns, shells, gas, and bombs in a strong position, and
broke through with such violence that they made a salient jutting into
the enemy line beyond what the schedule called for."
This American charge cured the Germans of any intention to stay on the
Ourcq. The resistance, after that first attack, was sporadic and
ineffectual. Village after village was reclaimed.
It became plain that the whole Marne salient was to be obliterated, and
that the Germans could not stop till they reached the thirty-six-mile
stretch directly from Soissons to Rheims, at which they had strong
intrenchments.
One terrific stand was made by the Germans at Sergy, just above the
Ourcq. It changed hands nine times during twenty-four hours, with
Americans fighting hand to hand with the Prussian guards. Sergy was
taken in the first rush over the Ourcq, but a counter-attack by the
Prussian Fourth Guard Division, under artillery barrage, gave them the
city. Once these guards were in the city, the artillery barrage could no
longer play over it, and to the stupefaction of the Germans, the
Americans rushed in and fought hand to hand till they cleared the town,
while the German guns were powerless. Time and again this process was
repeated, till at last the Germans gave it up and joined the general
retreat. This counter-attack is believed, however, to have enabled the
crown prince to reclaim great stores of supplies in a woods north of the
village.
At the end of these two weeks of infantry fighting the artillery took
up the task, and the infantry rested for a day, though on August 2 they
made a two-mile gain.
The total of German prisoners for that fortnight was 33,400.
The hideous fighting above the Ourcq between the Americans and the
picked German divisions continued for days, with each day marking a
small advance for the Americans. On August 2 the French regained
Soissons.
On August 3 the Allies advanced six miles, retook fifty villages, and
reached the south bank of the Vesle. American forces entered Fismes. The
salient was annihilated.
On August 4 Fismes fell, and the great supply and ammunition depot
became Allied property. The enemy was forced to cross the Vesle, and
victory on victory was reported along the line which so lately had
dipped into the nerve-centres of France.
The second battle of the Marne had been won.
[Illustration: The capture of Sergy.
"The Americans rushed in and fought hand to hand till they cleared the
town."]
The part of it achieved by America could not fail to stir her heart to
pride and to exaltation. Though numerically the troops were few
enough, not more than 270,000, they traversed the longest distance of
the salient, from Vaux, at its lowest tip, to Fismes, on the straight
line. Their fighting called forth comment from French officers who had
been through the four years of the war, which could not be called less
than rapturous. "They are glorious, the Americans," rang through France.
Clemenceau, speaking of Foch at the end of the battle to which the
Americans had contributed so much, said: "He looks twenty years
younger." He had both found and proved his "army of manoeuvre."
The story of this first battle's heroes must wait, though it will be
long enough when it comes, and can include something more heartening
than that "a boy from New England did thus and so," and "the army is
thrilled by the heroic feat of---- of Michigan."
Probably the first death in France in which the whole nation grieved was
that of young Quentin Roosevelt, aviation lieutenant, son of the
ex-President, who fell in an air fight in the preliminary to the battle
on July 17. He was last seen in a fight with two enemy planes. His
machine fell within the German lines. Weeks later the onward Allied
army found his grave, marked, in English, "Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt,
buried by the Germans," and an official despatch from Germany stated
that he had been buried with full military honors.
Colonel Roosevelt made a brief statement: "Quentin's mother and I are
very glad that he got to the front, and had a chance to render some
service to his country and to show the stuff there was in him before his
fate befell him." The news of his death arrived just a few weeks after
the news that he had downed his first German plane. The simple sincerity
of this statement, and its courage, gave an example to the mothers and
fathers of fighters which no one feared they would fail to come up to.
And when the casualty lists from the second Marne battle came in, every
bereavement was stanched by the fact that "they had shown the stuff
there was in them."
Certainly not least in importance was the fact that they had shown it to
the Germans. An official German Army report was captured, July 7, on an
officer taken in the Marne region. After giving a prodigious amount of
detail concerning the American Army, its composition, destination, and
so on, it appended the following opinion:
"The 2d American Division may be classified as a very good division,
perhaps even as assault troops. The various attacks of both regiments on
Belleau Wood were carried out with dash and recklessness. The moral
effect of our firearms did not materially check the advance of the
infantry. The nerves of the Americans are still unshaken.... Only a few
of the troops are of pure American origin; the majority is of German,
Dutch, and Italian parentage, but these semi-Americans, almost all of
whom were born in America and never have been in Europe, fully feel
themselves to be true-born sons of their country."