So, after a looong time another chapter.
Thank you, Caillagh, Alwyn and mad orc for your nice comments!
Chapter Ninteen: Les Penseurs
Erich Georg Anton von Falkenhayn was, as he often did when annoyed, playing around with the medal in his pocket, fingering the stamped sides of the bronze piece. It wasn’t a spectacular or remarkably interesting medal, rectangular with one point going through a small ring but the 53 year old chief of staff felt assured by it’s weight in is hand and round edges. One side had a profile view of Whilhelm II and the other side a cross pattée. A crowned eagle standing wings spread on the cross gave the medal the significative feeling he liked about it when observing the bronze piece closer.
But overall, it was a piece of junk. Everyone who anticipates in a Kaisermanöver is rewarded such a medal, no distinction between common soldiers and people who actually matter. He remembered last year’s Kaisermöver. It was grand but subtle. The anglo-saxon press described it as dull, but didn’t give the soldiers the fault. But Falkenhayn was content with this assessment. He had liked the English observer, Mr. Callwell and -
Someone knocked on the dark door of the wide, sun-drenched room. A small man in a plain military uniform entered, his round face red, making his small black mustache look like fresh charcoal thrown into blood.
Did he run or is it because of the cold outside?, thought Falkenhayn. He almost cared but then realized that he was cold too and his thought digressed to the winter coat hanging on a hook on a wall and to the empty fireplace next to the table he was sitting at. He liked the outré style of it, with it’s rococo themed carvings and-
The man coughed.
Right!, remembered the General.
“Nun…?”, he asked, raising one eyebrow.
The man hesitated slightly. Bad news. Falkenhayn had the ability deduce the gravity of a message before someone even uttered the first word.
“A small corridor towards Verdun has opened. The garrisons inside the fortresses have increased their efforts to harass our flanks. Namely in Fort Douaumont, Fort Maguerre, Fort Vaux-”.
“Silence.” The General Chief of Staff whispered this word so tenderly that the messenger wasn’t sure if it indeed has been said. The fact that Falkenhayn was look at something in his hand didn’t make it easier.
“I assume this corridor is not enough to relieve the city. That’s what you were going to say, am I correct? But I say this corridor is going to grow and we can’t do anything against that. Lochow that idiot.”
Falkenhayn looked at the maps and books on the table. He moved his chair back and assumed a more relaxed pose. “Get me the Crownprince and Von Knobelsdorf.“
The man left.
When he saw Konstantin Schmidt von Knobelsdorf’s bald head and his tasteless mustache, Falkenhayn resumed to play with the medal. He didn’t question why the crownprince was alone. He didn’t care.
Knobelsdorf said instantly upon entering: “I am most terribly surpris-”
“Stop this”, commanded the General Chief of staff, “We – no. I, was well aware that it would end like this. But I think this is actually good.”
Falkenhayn waited, analyzed the Generals response. Knobelsdorf desperately tried to look unshaken, but the fact that he was sweating heavily despite the cold said more about Knobelsdorf thoughts than the ten-volume encyclopedia on the bookshelf above the fire place said about the biodiversity of China.
Falkenhayn wrinkled up.
“I have something planned. Something that will surely secure our victory. No no , not now. This must stay secret for now. At least the details. I am going to tell you this: I have prepared-”, he grabbed one of the books on the table, “-or rather commissioned a great number of new artillery. And ordered the repositioning of 37 divisions all over the Western Front and move 9 divisions from the east to the west. Additional to that new equipment, ammunition, shells and so on. Our focus from now on will be Verdun. Come, have a look at this. No, wait. Before that, answer me this question. Why Verdun?”
Knobelsdorf relaxed and started to ponder. He said: “The arrondissement Verdun has many important hills and heights that would benefit our artillery. Furthermore… there are many fortresses, which makes it easy to hold. And...”, Knobelsdorf scratched his left cheek, “and taking Verdun would be a devastating blow to the French moral.”
Falkenhayn didn’t listen, his thoughts were again on the winter coat. And on the Rhinopithecus roxellana, a monkey he read about in the encyclopedia. He wished he had seen it when he was in China.
Right, Knobelsdorf!
He gave the general the book and pointed at two number. One number representing the amount of troops and the other the cost of the new equipment.
Knobelsdorf‘s face went pale and he started to sweat again.
Picture of the 1907 Kaisermanöver
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Henri Philippe Benoni Omer Joseph Pétain threw the report on the table.
„Frustrating. Outrageous and frustrating! One has to wonder if Poincaré even has something that could be considered reason.”
Pétain propped himself with one arm on his massive, mahagony desk, and looked down on the numerous papers and maps which lay scattered on the table. He twirled his mustache while thinking. His lips moved a bit as if he was praying yet his face looked like a bronze sculpture’s, hard and bland. Buried in thoughts he resembled Rodin’s ‘The Thinker’.
The young man in the corner observed the old general carefully. He knew too well that Pétain could be lively and choleric at times.
“I assume”, the young man said while rubbing the gold buttons on his blue jacket, “Nivelle will act as he did before?”
“I”, spat Pétain, “presume he will do just that. He hasn’t shown anything to prove otherwise. There is a certain breed of people who never learn of mistakes, even if they did the same one a hundred times. Nivelle is of this kind. And Poincaré is even more imbecilic to permit this. Starting with the idea of holding Verdun.”
“Verdun?”, asked the man and picked a thread off his red jacket. “Why Verdun?”
“Exactly!”, shouted Pétain and said calmly: “Why Verdun? Take at look at the battles of this war after the trenches were dug and tell me if there is some constant.”
The man frowned and ran his finger through his short, blonde hair.
“The front hasn’t changed since?”
“Yes. And why is that?”
“Because… every attack has failed so far?”
“Precisely. The defender always has the upper hand. Having the initiative and controllin the pace of a battle is no longer important. Overpowering with mass is. Artillery barrages are. Trenches are. And machine guns! I tell you, if this war goes on, we’ll have to train more people with machine guns. Well, with this in mind ask yourself, why would the Germans attack Verdun? The most defensive position of the entire front?“
“Maybe the think they can take it?”
“Obviously, and not too far off. Taking it is possible - maybe. The fortresses are still manned and not taken, the city still resisting. But why would they attack it in the first place? Why not try to attack the British in Belgium again?”
The man pursed his lips and then shrugged, inquiring an answer.
Pétain sighted silently. “Because we’d have to retake it. The Germans are good at attacking. Our idea of attacking at all costs cannot take a trench let alone a fotress, but their idea of organized attacks after howitzer barrages can. If they take Verdun, we’d have to retake it. And their chances of taking the city and it’s fortresses are better than our chances to retake them.” The General clapped his hands. “Our troops would get slaughtered. En masse. Nivelle would gladly use up every able man in France to retake Verdun, the birthplace of our wonderful nation. And destroy it in the process. We should just fall back and build an impenetrable defense. Our forts were attacked by surprise. They are not manned, not sufficiently. How long-”
“What about the Voie Sacreé? If we push the Germans back we can supply our garrisons via the Voie Sacreé!?” The man almost screamed. His head was crimson, his pitch black eyes like charcoal in a sea of blood.
Pétain smiled sneeringly. “Correct. If we push them back. If we hold our ground. If the supply line survives. If the Voie Sacreé fulfills what it promises.”
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“The first days in ‘Verdun’ were… well… less tense than we thought it would be. We marched to Clermont which was crowded with soldiers from all over France. In fact, it was so full, that the sum of military camps around it connected the town to the villages in the vicinity.”, Thomas slowly scratched his wide chin, “I think that I should clarify that I mean we arrived at the edge of this massive city-camp, when I say that we arrived at Clermont. But don’t imagine some kind of disorderly camp, where tents and wooden makeshift HQs had been put up wherever they could. No, I think it looked from above like planned cities. Like the ones they have in the States. Roads and paths crossed each other at right angles and everything had it’s place. The latrines, the ablutions and so on... “
“Excuse me, Clermont? How did you get to Clermont in this short a time”, asked David.
Jean rolled his eyes. “I think he means Clermont- the one in the Argonne. Clermont-en-Argonne. West of Verdun. Isn’t it next to the forest?”
“Ah! Clermont-en-Argonne. Indeed it was. And yes, it was next to the forest. When you want to go west from Verdun you have to pass through Clermont. During our stay we had to widen and repair the road with shovels and gravel. Ditches and walls protected us from the noise. Well, not us, as in ‘me included’. Since my company arrived later than the others, the city-camp was already huge when we arrived, we were close to Vraicourt. North west of Clermont. We didn’t have a problem with the noise of vehicles passing by. Not as much as least. I mean we did hear it but it didn’t bother us. But unfortunate for us, we had to go all the way from Vraicourt to Clermont every single morning and the same way back after long hours of working in the late evening.
On the other side, we could see all the different regimental flags. You see, the camp of each regiment was separated from the other’s by a small space and marked with it’s respective flag. Each flag was different and we would compare ours to the others.
It all was spectacular. The gigantic camp and the flags flapping in the chill wind, the sound of humans doing mundane things, horses, laughing... This improved the mood of the men a lot. Yet - the fighting at Verdun and it’s thundering echo cast a shadow on everyone’s face, from the cooks to the nurses to the artillerymen to us front liners. No one knew where they’d be deployed. Little did we know that the actual battle hadn’t even started.”
Notes |
So Verdun again... What Pétain mean with "Birthplace", is the Treaty of Verdun in 843, which essentially laid the foundation of the borders of France and the HRE.
Erich von Falkenhayn replaced Helmuth von Moltke as Chief of Staff in September 1914, after the Battle of the Marne, which essentially destroyed Moltke's Schlieffen plan. Falkenhayn proved to be incredibly capable. He resigned after his failed Battle of Verdun in 1916 and Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff followed his position as a duo. (Two very, very interesting people)
Phillipe Pétain, aka the Lion of Verdun, was a strong opponent of the French idea of "Offensive at all Cost" and supported the idea of digging in and letting the enemy attack. (Both Falkenhayn and Pétain came to the conclusion that the attacker is always at an disadvantage and defending until the right moment for an attack comes is a better strategy). He would later become iinfamous for his actions during WW2
Kaisermanöver were big manoeuvers whith the presence of the Emperor. They were a big diplomatic event (foreign nation would estimate Germany's military power by them). |