I have examined the probable conditions of the next naval war in some detail, because I thought that our general political and military position can only be properly estimated by considering the various phases of the war by sea and by land, and by realizing the possibilities and dangers arising from the combined action of the hostile forces on our coasts and land frontiers. In this way only can the direction be decided in which our preparations for war ought to move.

The considerations, then, to which the discussion about the naval war with England and her probable allies gave rise have shown that we shall need to make very great exertions to protect ourselves successfully from a hostile attack by sea. They also proved that we cannot count on an ultimate victory at sea unless we are victorious on land. If an Anglo-French army invaded North Germany through Holland, and threatened our coast defences in the rear, it would soon paralyze our defence by sea. The same argument applies to the eastern theatre. If Russian armies advance victoriously along the Baltic and co-operate with a combined fleet of our opponents, any continuation of the naval war would be rendered futile by the operations of the enemy on land.

We know also that it is of primary importance to organize our forces on land so thoroughly that they guarantee the possibility, under all circumstances, of our victoriously maintaining our position on the Continent of Europe. This position must be made absolutely safe before we can successfully carry on a war by sea, and follow an imperial policy based on naval power. So long as Rome was threatened by Hannibal in Italy there could be no possible idea of empire. She did not begin her triumphal progress in history until she was thoroughly secure in her own country.

But our discussion shows also that success on land can be influenced by the naval war. If the enemy succeeds in destroying our fleet and landing with strong detachments on the North Sea coast, large forces of the land army would be required to repel them, a circumstance widely affecting the progress of the war on the land frontiers. It is therefore vitally necessary to prepare the defence of our own coasts so well that every attack, even by superior numbers, may be victoriously repelled.

At the same time the consideration of the political position presses the conviction home that in our preparations for war there must be no talk of a gradual development of our forces by sea and land such as may lay the lightest possible burden on the national finances, and leave ample scope for activity in the sphere of culture. The crucial point is to put aside all other considerations, and to prepare ourselves with the utmost energy for a war which appears to be imminent, and will decide the whole future of our politics and our civilization. The consideration of the broad lines of the world policy and of the political aspirations of the individual States showed that the position of affairs everywhere is critical for us, that we live at an epoch which will decide our place as a World Power or our downfall. The internal disruption of the Triple Alliance, as shown clearly by the action of Italy towards Turkey, threatens to bring the crisis quickly to a head. The period which destiny has allotted us for concentrating our forces and preparing ourselves for the deadly struggle may soon be passed. We must use it, if we wish to be mindful of the warning of the Great Elector, that we are Germans. This is the point of view from which we must carry out our preparations for war by sea and land. Thus only can we be true to our national duty.

I do not mean that we should adopt precipitately measures calculated merely for the exigencies of the moment. All that we undertake in the cause of military efficiency must meet two requirements: it must answer the pressing questions of the present, and aid the development of the future. But we must find the danger of our position a stimulus to desperate exertions, so that we may regain at the eleventh hour something of what we have lost in the last years.

Since the crucial point is to safeguard our much-threatened position on the continent of Europe, we must first of all face the serious problem of the land war—by what means we can hope to overcome the great numerical superiority of our enemies. Such superiority will certainly exist if Italy ceases to be an active member of the Triple Alliance, whether nominally belonging to it, or politically going over to Irredentism. The preparations for the naval war are of secondary importance.

The first essential requirement, in case of a war by land, is to make the total fighting strength of the nation available for war, to educate the entire youth of the country in the use of arms, and to make universal service an existing fact.

The system of universal service, born in the hour of need, has by a splendid development of strength liberated us from a foreign yoke, has in long years of peace educated a powerful and well-armed people, and has brought us victory upon victory in the German wars of unification. Its importance for the social evolution of the nation has been discussed in a separate chapter. The German Empire would to-day have a mighty political importance if we had been loyal to the principle on which our greatness was founded.

France has at the present day a population of some 40,000,000; Russia in Europe, with Poland and the Caucasus, has a population of 140,000,000. Contrasted with this, Germany has only 65,000,000 inhabitants. But since the Russian military forces are, to a great extent, hampered by very various causes and cannot be employed at any one time or place, and are also deficient in military value, a German army which corresponded to the population would be certainly in a position to defend itself successfully against its two enemies, if it operated resolutely on the inner line, even though England took part in the war.

Disastrously for ourselves, we have become disloyal to the idea of universal military service, and have apparently definitely discontinued to carry it out effectively. The country where universal service exists is now France. With us, indeed, it is still talked about, but it is only kept up in pretence, for in reality 50 per cent., perhaps, of the able-bodied are called up for training. In particular, very little use has been made of the larger towns as recruiting-grounds for the army.

In this direction some reorganization is required which will energetically combine the forces of the nation and create a real army, such as we have not at the present time. Unless we satisfy this demand, we shall not long be able to hold our own against the hostile Powers.

Although we recognize this necessity as a national duty, we must not shut our eyes to the fact that it is impossible in a short time to make up our deficiencies. Our peace army cannot be suddenly increased by 150,000 men. The necessary training staff and equipment would not be forthcoming, and on the financial side the required expenditure could not all at once be incurred. The full effectiveness of an increased army only begins to be gradually felt when the number of reservists and Landwehr is correspondingly raised. We can therefore only slowly recur to the reinforcement of universal service. The note struck by the new Five Years Act cannot be justified on any grounds. But although we wish to increase our army on a more extensive scale, we must admit that, even if we strain our resources, the process can only work slowly, and that we cannot hope for a long time to equalize even approximately the superior forces of our opponents.

We must not, therefore, be content merely to strengthen our army; we must devise other means of gaining the upper hand of our enemies. These means can only be found in the spiritual domain.

History teaches us by countless examples that numbers in themselves have only been the decisive factor in war when the opponents have been equally matched otherwise, or when the superiority of the one party exceeds the proportion required by the numerical law.[A] In most cases it was a special advantage possessed by the one party—better equipment, greater efficiency of troops, brilliant leadership, or more able strategy—which led to victory over the numerically superior. Rome conquered the world with inferior forces; Frederick the Great with inferior forces withstood the allied armies of Europe. Recent history shows us the victory of the numerically weaker Japanese army over a crushingly superior opponent. We cannot count on seeing a great commander at our head; a second Frederick the Great will hardly appear. Nor can we know beforehand whether our troops will prove superior to the hostile forces. But we can try to learn what will be the decisive factors in the future war which will turn the scale in favour of victory or defeat. If we know this, and prepare for war with a set purpose, and keep the essential points of view always before us, we might create a real source of superiority, and gain a start on our opponents which would be hard for them to make up in the course of the war. Should we then in the war itself follow one dominating principle of the policy which results from the special nature of present-day war, it must be possible to gain a positive advantage which may even equalize a considerable numerical superiority.

[Footnote A: Cf. v. Bernhardi, "Vom heutigen Kriege," vol. i., chap. ii.]

The essential point is not to match battalion with battalion, battery with battery, or to command a number of cannons, machine guns, airships, and other mechanical contrivances equal to that of the probable opponent; it is foolish initiative to strain every nerve to be abreast with the enemy in all material domains. This idea leads to a certain spiritual servility and inferiority.

Rather must an effort be made to win superiority in the factors on which the ultimate decision turns. The duty of our War Department is to prepare these decisive elements of strength while still at peace, and to apply them in war according to a clearly recognized principle of superiority. This must secure for us the spiritual and so the material advantage over our enemies. Otherwise we run the danger of being crushed by their weight of numbers.

We cannot reach this goal on the beaten roads of tradition and habit by uninspired rivalry in arming. We must trace out with clear insight the probable course of the future war, and must not be afraid to tread new paths, if needs be, which are not consecrated by experience and use. New goals can only be reached by new roads, and our military history teaches us by numerous instances how the source of superiority lies in progress, in conscious innovations based on convincing arguments. The spiritual capacity to know where, under altered conditions, the decision must be sought, and the spiritual courage to resolve on this new line of action, are the soil in which great successes ripen.

It would be too long a task in this place to examine more closely the nature of the future war, in order to develop systematically the ideas which will prove decisive in it. These questions have been thoroughly ventilated in a book recently published by me, "Vom heutigen Kriege" ("The War of To-day"). In this place I will only condense the results of my inquiry, in order to form a foundation for the further consideration of the essential questions of the future.

In a future European war "masses" will be employed to an extent unprecedented in any previous one. Weapons will be used whose deadliness will exceed all previous experience. More effective and varied means of communication will be available than were known in earlier wars. These three momentous factors will mark the war of the future.

"Masses" signify in themselves an increase of strength, but they contain elements of weakness as well. The larger they are and the less they can be commanded by professional soldiers, the more their tactical efficiency diminishes. The less they are able to live on the country during war-time, especially when concentrated, and the more they are therefore dependent on the daily renewal of food-supplies, the slower and less mobile they become. Owing to the great space which they require for their deployment, it is extraordinarily difficult to bring them into effective action simultaneously. They are also far more accessible to morally depressing influences than compacter bodies of troops, and may prove dangerous to the strategy of their own leaders, if supplies run short, if discipline breaks down, and the commander loses his authority over the masses which he can only rule under regulated conditions.

The increased effectiveness of weapons does not merely imply a longer range, but a greater deadliness, and therefore makes more exacting claims on the moral of the soldier. The danger zone begins sooner than formerly; the space which must be crossed in an attack has become far wider; it must be passed by the attacking party creeping or running. The soldier must often use the spade in defensive operations, during which he is exposed to a far hotter fire than formerly; while under all circumstances he must shoot more than in bygone days. The quick firing which the troop encounters increases the losses at every incautious movement. All branches of arms have to suffer under these circumstances. Shelter and supplies will be more scanty than ever before. In short, while the troops on the average have diminished in value, the demands made on them have become considerably greater.

Improved means of communication, finally, facilitate the handling and feeding of large masses, but tie them down to railway systems and main roads, and must, if they fail or break down in the course of a campaign, aggravate the difficulties, because the troops were accustomed to their use, and the commanders counted upon them.

The direct conclusion to be drawn from these reflections is that a great superiority must rest with the troops whose fighting capabilities and tactical efficiency are greater than those of their antagonists.

The commander who can carry out all operations quicker than the enemy, and can concentrate and employ greater masses in a narrow space than they can, will always be in a position to collect a numerically superior force in the decisive direction; if he controls the more effective troops, he will gain decisive successes against one part of the hostile army, and will be able to exploit them against other divisions of it before the enemy can gain equivalent advantages in other parts of the field.

Since the tactical efficiency and the moral of the troops are chiefly shown in the offensive, and are then most needful, the necessary conclusion is that safety only lies in offensive warfare.

In an attack, the advantage, apart from the elements of moral strength which it brings into play, depends chiefly on rapidity of action. Inasmuch as the attacking party determines the direction of the attack to suit his own plans, he is able at the selected spot to collect a superior force against his surprised opponent. The initiative, which is the privilege of the attacking party, gives a start in time and place which is very profitable in operations and tactics. The attacked party can only equalize this advantage if he has early intimation of the intentions of the assailant, and has time to take measures which hold out promise of success. The more rapidly, therefore, the attacking General strikes his blow and gains his success, and the more capable his troops, the greater is the superiority which the attack in its nature guarantees.

This superiority increases with the size of the masses. If the advancing armies are large and unwieldy, and the distances to be covered great, it will be a difficult and tedious task for the defending commander to take proper measures against a surprise attack. On the other hand, the prospects of success of the attacking General will be very favourable, especially if he is in the fortunate position of having better troops at his disposal.

Finally, the initiative secures to the numerically weaker a possibility of gaining the victory, even when other conditions are equal, and all the more so the greater the masses engaged. In most cases it is impossible to bring the entire mass of a modern army simultaneously and completely into action. A victory, therefore, in the decisive direction—the direction, that is, which directly cuts the arteries of the opponent—is usually conclusive for the whole course of the war, and its effect is felt in the most distant parts of the field of operations. If the assailant, therefore, can advance in this direction with superior numbers, and can win the day, because the enemy cannot utilize his numerical superiority, there is a possibility of an ultimate victory over the arithmetically stronger army. In conformity to this law, Frederick the Great, through superior tactical capability and striking strength, had always the upper hand of an enemy far more powerful in mere numbers.

No further proof is required that the superiority of the attack increases in proportion to the rapidity with which it is delivered, and to the lack of mobility of the hostile forces. Hence the possibility of concealing one's own movements and damaging the effective tactics of the enemy secures an advantage which, though indirect, is yet very appreciable.

We arrive, then, at the conclusion that, in order to secure the superiority in a war of the future under otherwise equal conditions, it is incumbent on us: First, during the period of preparation to raise the tactical value and capabilities of the troops as much as possible, and especially to develop the means of concealing the attacking movements and damaging the enemy's tactical powers; secondly, in the war itself to act on the offensive and strike the first blow, and to exploit the manoeuvring capacity of the troops as much as possible, in order to be superior in the decisive directions. Above all, a State which has objects to attain that cannot be relinquished, and is exposed to attacks by enemies more powerful than itself, is bound to act in this sense. It must, before all things, develop the attacking powers of its army, since a strategic defensive must often adopt offensive methods.

This principle holds good pre-eminently for Germany. The points which I have tried to emphasize must never be lost sight of, if we wish to face the future with confidence. All our measures must be calculated to raise the efficiency of the army, especially in attack; to this end all else must give way. We shall thus have a central point on which all our measures can be focussed. We can make them all serve one purpose, and thus we shall be kept from going astray on the bypaths which we all too easily take if we regard matters separately, and not as forming parts of a collective whole. Much of our previous omissions and commissions would have borne a quite different complexion had we observed this unifying principle.

The requirements which I have described as the most essential are somewhat opposed to the trend of our present efforts, and necessitate a resolute resistance to the controlling forces of our age.

The larger the armies by which one State tries to outbid another, the smaller will be the efficiency and tactical worth of the troops; and not merely the average worth, but the worth of each separate detachment as such. Huge armies are even a danger to their own cause. "They will be suffocated by their own fat," said General v. Brandenstein, the great organizer of the advance of 1870, when speaking of the mass-formation of the French. The complete neglect of cavalry in their proportion to the whole bulk of the army has deprived the commander of the means to injure the tactical capabilities of the enemy, and to screen effectually his own movements. The necessary attention has never been paid in the course of military training to this latter duty. Finally, the tactical efficiency of troops has never been regarded as so essential as it certainly will prove in the wars of the future.

A mechanical notion of warfare and weak concessions to the pressure of public opinion, and often a defective grasp of the actual needs, have conduced to measures which inevitably result in an essential contradiction between the needs of the army and the actual end attained, and cannot be justified from the purely military point of view. It would be illogical and irrelevant to continue in these paths so soon as it is recognized that the desired superiority over the enemy cannot be reached on them.

This essential contradiction between what is necessary and what is attained appears in the enforcement of the law of universal military service. Opinion oscillates between the wish to enforce it more or less, and the disinclination to make the required outlay, and recourse is had to all sorts of subterfuges which may save appearances without giving a good trial to the system. One of these methods is the Ersatzreserve, which is once more being frequently proposed. But the situation is by no means helped by the very brief training which these units at best receive. This system only creates a military mob, which has no capacity for serious military operations. Such an institution would be a heavy strain on the existing teaching personnel in the army, and would be indirectly detrimental to it as well. Nor would any strengthening of the field army be possible under this scheme, since the cadres to contain the mass of these special reservists are not ready to hand. This mass would therefore only fill up the recruiting depots, and facilitate to some degree the task of making good the losses.

A similar contradiction is often shown in the employment of the troops. Every army at the present time is divided into regular troops, who are already organized in time of peace and are merely brought to full strength in war-time, and new formations, which are only organized on mobilization. The tactical value of these latter varies much according to their composition and the age of the units, but is always much inferior to that of the regular troops. The Landwehr formations, which were employed in the field in 1870-71, were an example of this, notwithstanding the excellent services which they rendered, and the new French formations in that campaign were totally ineffective. The sphere of activity of such troops is the second line. In an offensive war their duty is to secure the railroads and bases, to garrison the conquered territory, and partly also to besiege the enemies' fortresses. In fact, they must discharge all the duties which would otherwise weaken the field army. In a defensive war they will have to undertake the local and mainly passive defence, and the support of the national war. By acting at first in this limited sphere, such new formations will gradually become fitted for the duties of the war, and will acquire a degree of offensive strength which certainly cannot be reckoned upon at the outset of the war; and the less adequately such bodies of troops are supplied with columns, trains, and cavalry, the less their value will be.

Nevertheless, it appears to be assumed by us that, in event of war, such troops will be partly available in the first line, and that decisive operations may be entrusted to them. Reserves and regulars are treated as equivalent pieces on the board, and no one seems to suppose that some are less effective than others. A great danger lies in this mechanical conception.

For operations in the field we must employ, wherever possible, regulars only, and rather limit our numbers than assign to inferior troops tasks for which they are inadequate. We must have the courage to attack, if necessary, with troops numerically inferior but tactically superior and more efficient; we must attack in the consciousness that tactical striking power and efficiency outweigh the advantages of greater numbers, and that with the immense modern armies a victory in the decisive direction has more bearing on the ultimate issue than ever before.

The decision depends on the regular troops, not on the masses which are placed at their side on mobilization. The commander who acts on this principle, and so far restricts himself in the employment of masses that he preserves the complete mobility of the armies, will win a strong advantage over the one whose leader is burdened with inferior troops and therefore is handicapped generally, and has paid for the size of his army by want of efficiency. The mass of reserves must, therefore, be employed as subsidiary to the regular troops, whom they must relieve as much as possible from all minor duties. Thus used, a superiority in the numbers of national reserves will secure an undoubted superiority in the actual war.

It follows directly from this argument that we must do our best to render the regular army strong and efficient, and that it would be a mistake to weaken them unnecessarily by excessive drafts upon their personnel with the object of making the reserves tactically equal to them. This aim may sometimes be realized; but the general level of efficiency throughout the troops would be lowered.

Our one object must therefore be to strengthen our regular army. An increase of the peace footing of the standing army is worth far more than a far greater number of badly trained special reservists. It is supremely important to increase the strength of the officers on the establishment. The stronger each unit is in peace, the more efficient will it become for war, hence the vital importance of aiming at quality, not quantity. Concentration, not dilution, will be our safeguard. If we wish to encourage the enforcement of universal service by strengthening the army, we must organize new peace formations, since the number of professional officers and sub-officers will be thus increased. This step is the more necessary because the present available cadres are insufficient to receive the mass of able-bodied recruits and to provide for their thorough training.

The gradual enforcement of universal military service hand in hand with an increase of the regular army is the first practical requirement. We shall now consider how far the tactical value of the troops, the efficiency of the army, the cavalry, and the screening service can be improved by organization, equipment, and training.

I must first point out a factor which lies in a different sphere to the questions already discussed, but has great importance in every branch of military activity, especially in the offensive, which requires prompt original action—I mean the importance of personality.

From the Commander-in-Chief, who puts into execution the conceptions of his own brain under the pressure of responsibility and shifting fortune, and the Brigadier, who must act independently according to a given general scheme; to the dispatch rider, surrounded with dangers, and left to his own resources in the enemy's country, and the youngest private in the field fighting for his own hand, and striving for victory in the face of death; everywhere in the wars of to-day, more than in any other age, personality dominates all else. The effect of mass tactics has abolished all close formations of infantry, and the individual is left to himself. The direct influence of the superior has lessened. In the strategic duties of the cavalry, which represent the chief activity of that arm, the patrol riders and orderlies are separated more than before from their troop and are left to their own responsibility. Even in the artillery the importance of independent action will be more clearly emphasized than previously. The battlefields and area of operations have increased with the masses employed. The Commander-in-Chief is far less able than ever before to superintend operations in various parts of the field; he is forced to allow a greater latitude to his subordinates. These conditions are very prominent in attacking operations.

When on the defensive the duty of the individual is mainly to hold his ground, while the commander's principal business is to utilize the reserves. On the offensive, however, the conditions change from moment to moment, according to the counter-movements of the enemy, which cannot be anticipated, and the success or failure of the attacking troops. Even the individual soldier, as the fight fluctuates, must now push on, now wait patiently until the reinforcements have come up; he will often have to choose for himself the objects at which to fire, while never losing touch with the main body. The offensive makes very varied calls on the commander's qualities. Ruse and strategy, boldness and unsparing energy, deliberate judgment and rapid decision, are alternately demanded from him. He must be competent to perform the most opposite duties. All this puts a heavy strain on personality.

It is evident, then, that the army which contains the greatest number of self-reliant and independent personalities must have a distinct advantage. This object, therefore, we must strive with every nerve to attain: to be superior in this respect to all our enemies. And this object can be attained. Personality can be developed, especially in the sphere of spiritual activity. The reflective and critical powers can be improved by continuous exercise; but the man who can estimate the conditions under which he has to act, who is master of the element in which he has to work, will certainly make up his mind more rapidly and more easily than a man who faces a situation which he does not grasp. Self-reliance, boldness, and imperturbability in the hour of misfortune are produced by knowledge. This is shown everywhere. We see the awkward and shy recruit ripen into a clear-headed smart sergeant; and the same process is often traced among the higher commands. But where the mental development is insufficient for the problems which are to be solved, the personality fails at the moment of action. The elegant guardsman Bourbaki collapsed when he saw himself confronted with the task of leading an army whose conditions he did not thoroughly grasp. General Chanzy, on the other hand, retained his clear judgment and resolute determination in the midst of defeat. Thus one of the essential tasks of the preparations for war is to raise the spiritual level of the army and thus indirectly to mould and elevate character. Especially is it essential to develop the self-reliance and resourcefulness of those in high command. In a long military life ideas all too early grow stereotyped and the old soldier follows traditional trains of thought and can no longer form an unprejudiced opinion. The danger of such development cannot be shut out. The stiff and uniform composition of the army which doubles its moral powers has this defect: it often leads to a one-sided development, quite at variance with the many-sidedness of actual realities, and arrests the growth of personality. Something akin to this was seen in Germany in the tentative scheme of an attack en masse. United will and action are essential to give force its greatest value. They must go hand in hand with the greatest spiritual independence and resourcefulness, capable of meeting any emergency and solving new problems by original methods.

It has often been said that one man is as good as another; that personality is nothing, the type is everything; but this assertion is erroneous. In time of peace, when sham reputations flourish and no real struggle winnows the chaff from the coin, mediocrity in performance is enough. But in war, personality turns the scale. Responsibility and danger bring out personality, and show its real worth, as surely as a chemical test separates the pure metal from the dross.

That army is fortunate which has placed men of this kind in the important posts during peace-time and has kept them there. This is the only way to avoid the dangers which a one-sided routine produces, and to break down that red-tapism which is so prejudicial to progress and success. It redounds to the lasting credit of William I. that for the highest and most responsible posts, at any rate, he had already in time of peace made his selection from among all the apparently great men around him; and that he chose and upheld in the teeth of all opposition those who showed themselves heroes and men of action in the hour of need, and had the courage to keep to their own self-selected paths. This is no slight title to fame, for, as a rule, the unusual rouses envy and distrust, but the cheap, average wisdom, which never prompted action, appears as a refined superiority, and it is only under the pressure of the stern reality of war that the truth of Goethe's lines is proved:

"Folk and thrall and victor can
Witness bear in every zone:
Fortune's greatest gift to man
Is personality alone."