in all countries. Then it was up to strategy to deliver the kind of military outcome that
would satisfy the demands of policy. And for that to occur, the military machines needed
to secure victory, because nothing less was asked, or expected, of them. But could the
armies and navies of 1914 deliver what was required by policy? What if policy demanded
a military victory that was beyond the fighting power of the army of the day? Strategy is
about the use of force and the threat of force for the ends of policy. But policy should
change if the force available is incapable of securing a favourable outcome. From 1914
to 191 8 , policies did not change: military victory was still demanded. Rather than throttle
back on their political goals, instead the belligerents sought to improve the combat
effectiveness of their armies and navies. They strove to improve their military instrument
so that it would be capable of generating the military victory which was the precondition
for the necessary strategic effect.
World War I was a protracted learning experience about the mysteries of modern
warfare and how those mysteries could be penetrated and overcome. Totally inexperi-
enced armies using new weapons, or familiar weapons in new ways, had to learn how to
fight under modern conditions. And they had to learn while under fire, when they were
taking high casualties. It is important to note the essential symmetry between the armies
of 1914. The differences were those of detail, not of structure, doctrine or equipment.
Everyone had copied, adopted and adapted what they admired and found useful in
the Prussian–German model, especially with respect to the creation of a general staff
worthy of the name. Also, everyone was similarly armed with magazine rifles, more or
fewer machine-guns, quick-firing field artillery, a rapidly mobilizable mass conscript
army (Britain excepted, until 1916), and a doctrine that emphasized offensive action.
In 1914, Germany did not have a lead in military technology, doctrine or indeed any-
thing else, except, arguably, in its traditional strength in military training. However,
because Moltke was obliged to use many reservists in the first line in order to achieve the
numbers necessary for the grand envelopment of the French, it was inevitable that many
formations were not exactly on the cutting edge of tactical excellence. (The West Army
of 1.6 million men comprised twenty-three active and as many as eleven reserve corps.)
Historian Antulio Echevarria has explained that while it is true that the Germans had an
intelligent and appropriate tactical doctrine for coping reasonably well with modern
firepower, the problem was that too few units followed it in practice (Echevarria, 2000:
217–1 8 ).
On the Western Front for the first three months in 1914, and for the final three months
in 191 8 , the war was one of movement, albeit not usually rapid movement. On the
Eastern Front, because force to space ratios were low, the war generally was one where
movement, even extensive and ambitious manoeuvre, was possible. (This fact translated
as a major difference between the wartime experiences of the German, French and British
armies.) But for nearly four years in the West, the decisive theatre, the Great War was
a gigantic siege operation. No army was properly equipped to conduct siege warfare in
a flankless theatre of operations. Since such conditions had not been expected, it would
have been truly remarkable had anyone been suitably prepared. However, the Germans
were fortunate in their possession of a great many of their excellent 105mm field
howitzers. Siege warfare called for plunging fire rather than the flat trajectory of the
quick-firing field artillery. Also, it demanded guns of large calibre and high-explosive
shells in numbers unanticipated in pre-war calculations.
World War I: modern warfare 91