THE ARMY

The great military authority, Bernhardi, in an article in Das Jahr 1913, points out various ways in which military science has developed since the Franco-Prussian War and shows how completely we have had to abandon many of the conceptions gained by a study of earlier campaigns. Responsible in the main for the changes are the increased size of the armies and the new technical inventions of our age.

Almost all the states of continental Europe have gone over to the principle of universal military service, with the result that the armies are greater now in time of peace than ever before in time of war, and that when mobilization is called for and the reserves are summoned, the number of men in the field amounts to millions. The first result has been that far other means of transporting and concentrating such masses have to be employed than used to be the case and that networks of railroads have had to be built for purely strategic purposes. In the maneuvers that were to have taken place this coming autumn at MÜnster in Germany it had been intended to make a record in the matter of quick transportation and to dispose of 120,000 men in the course of a single morning without interrupting the regular passenger traffic. The old method of victualing armies, too, has had to be changed, for it is impossible for such hordes to nourish themselves by what they chance to find in the enemy’s country. Problems of another kind have arisen. Modern armies are composed of regulars and reservists alike: the reservists are not so hardened as the regulars and often not so efficient, so that it has become a custom to distribute them in such a way as to achieve the best results. As a rule, the regulars must be spared for decisive actions and reservists must occasionally be sacrificed, apparently needlessly. There may be cases, for instance, where the reserves must expose themselves to a murderous fire while the regulars are engaged in the more difficult but less dangerous task of cutting off the enemy’s line of retreat.

Technical improvements, such as the longer range and quicker fire of the guns, swifter means of communication and of signaling and the like, not to speak of other considerations due to experience, have so changed the old tactics that a line of battle is now more than ten times as long as it was only a few years ago. At Sadowa, with 215,000 men, the Austrians had a front of only 10 kilometers; at Mukden the attacking line of the Japanese, who had only 170,000 men, extended for 110 kilometers. “The broken line,” writes Bernhardi, “is to-day the only battle formation of the infantry.” To-day, officers and men fight in trenches and take every advantage of the inequalities of the ground; in 1870 it was considered disgraceful to take such advantages and the officers stood erect in the most deadly fire. In consequence of the length of the lines a check in one quarter is no longer so serious a matter as it used to be; a modern battle is a succession of single engagements of which the victor only needs to win a good majority. The commander no longer takes up a position, as Napoleon did at Leipzig, where he can oversee the whole field of operations; the best place for him is some railroad junction or central telephone station, with wireless and ordinary telegraph equipment, where messages can constantly be sent and received, and to and from which he can despatch troops, automobiles, motor-wagons or aeroplanes. One of the chief modern problems is supplying sufficient ammunition for quick-firing guns—the baggage trains must not be so long as to hinder the advance of the troops, yet where there are many guns and each shoots off hundreds of shots a minute, great quantities of ammunition are needed.

I have spoken of military service being almost universally compulsory in Europe. This means that every man of a certain age and with the requisite health and strength is obliged to report for duty. It has not hitherto meant that every eligible recruit was obliged to serve. In Germany a large contingent, even of the capable, was formerly excused. In 1910, for instance, nearly 235,000 were declared more or less unfit for service, although in France they would probably nearly all have been accepted. By the German army bills of 1911, 1912 and 1913 indeed the numbers of those required for active service were steadily increased: 9,482 in the first named year, some 29,000 in the second, and then the great increase of 63,000 in the third. But there were still, up to the present mobilization, some thirty thousand able-bodied recruits who could not be placed.

In the Prussian military-service law of 1814, and again in the constitution of the North German Confederation of 1867, the principle was laid down that the army should consist of one per cent. of the population. This had long been disregarded as the population increased, and the proportion had sunk as low as eight-tenths of one per cent. It has now been raised to a little over the original figure. The population as given officially in 1913 was 64,925,993, while the number of common soldiers (I quote the figures given by Stavenhagen in the Handbuch der Politik) was 647,811.[*]

The cost of the German army has been enormous—more than twenty-five billion marks between 1872 and 1910, and in 1913 alone, 1,608,653,300 marks. The extraordinary defense contribution for 1913, 1914 and 1915, a tax, not on income but on capital direct, is estimated to bring nearly 1,300,000,000 marks. Strange to say, the tax was very popular—every party in the Reichstag voted for it, even the social democrats, whose delight in a measure that fell most heavily on the rich (small properties were exempted) made them swallow the fact that the money was for national and military purposes. The yearly sums that the sudden increase in the army entails are to be paid by a curious tax on the increase of property value to be estimated every three years.

The estimates as to how much the army numbers when on a war footing varies between two and three-fourths millions and four millions. Austria’s army, on paper at least, numbers 380,000 men in time of peace, which number gradually was to have risen to 410,000 in the next few years. In war-time it is estimated at 1,300,000 men. Curiously enough Italy, with a peace army of only 300,000, estimates her war army officially at 3,400,000, or about as much as either Germany or France.

For the armies of the Triple Entente we have an estimate published by the Deutsche Tageszeitung in January, 1914, which is worth quoting at some length, as it is from a well-known military writer, Lieutenant Colonel von Bremen:

These observations, made by an expert at the beginning of 1914, are exceedingly interesting in view of what is now going on. Since Von Bremen wrote, however, there have been several interesting developments. In February it became known that of the French soldiers no less than 265,000 had died, were on the sick-list, or had been discharged during the previous month. The explanation is, that in order to raise the figures even the poorest kind of material had been accepted, that old unhealthy barracks were overcrowded and that new ones had been occupied while the plaster was still wet on the walls; that the army was short of physicians to the extent of many hundreds. An official note in a Paris paper declares that two-thirds of the recruits arrive in a tuberculous condition. Together with these revelations comes a book, by a French military aeronaut, complaining of the utter neglect of the air fleet, and declaring that at the moment France has not one serviceable hydroplane. The whole appropriation for air-ships in connection with the navy was but 400,000 francs in 1913, as compared with millions appropriated by the rival powers. At the same time come revelations regarding the regular navy itself. Although there are nine dreadnaughts building, but two are ready, and no cruisers.

In March appeared the “general annual report of the British army,” published by the War Office, which showed that Von Bremen’s statement as to the shortage of men was not only not exaggerated but greatly underestimated. The regular army is 9,211 men short, the territorial army 66,969, the special reserve 29,370. The explanation lies in the greater attractiveness of the navy and in the high emigration figures (178,468 males in 1913).

In April we hear of great appropriations in Austria both for the army and the navy. Official estimates place the strength of the army at 390,250 men, but a German critic points out that of these 60,000 are Landwehr, or reserves, and ought not to be counted. There is to be a yearly increase of 31,300 recruits, but the measure is not to take full effect until 1918. For the navy, 427,000,000 kronen are appropriated, of which 4,000,000 are to go for military air-ships; but the expenditures are to be extended over a period of five years. It has been Austria’s fate throughout the centuries always to be several years behind.

In June, finally, we learn that Russia has set aside for military expenditures in 1914 alone the monstrous sum of 2,500,000,000 marks, and by 1916 will have added 400,000 men—more than Austria’s whole force—to her standing army, which will amount, in the winter months at least, to 2,200,000 men. “Characteristic,” writes the TÄgliche Rundschau in commenting on it, “is the strengthening of the western boundary-strip and the improvement of the strategic network of railroads in order to hasten the forwarding of troops.” On the other hand, attention is drawn in the Danziger Zeitung to the fact that Russia has at the moment in the Baltic but four battle-ships, all old-fashioned, although by 1915 it is hoped to have ready four dreadnaughts.

We shall hear much in the next few months of infantry and cavalry, of field artillery and foot artillery, of pioneers, of Verkehrstruppen or communication troops, and of the Train or transport division. I therefore preface this section with the definition of these terms given by a staff officer in the newest book of instructions for the one-year volunteers.

It is not worth while here to enter into the question of uniforms. In time of peace the blue coats and red collars of the infantry, the varied colored attilas and fur caps of the hussars, the helms with the flying eagles of the guards, the tresses, the gleaming epaulettes, the scarves, the waving plumes, are all interesting enough, especially to the other sex; but in war that is all laid aside. In order to be as invisible as possible to the enemy all categories of troops wear the same ashen gray—a comparatively recent adaptation of the principle of protective coloring.

In the German army the cavalry is merely an adjunct of the infantry. It is the infantry which decides battles—not the cavalry, not even the artillery. However, the infantry of to-day is something very different from the infantry of the eighteenth and even from that of a great part of the nineteenth century. German military writers acknowledge that the world learned new tactics from the sharpshooters and riflemen of the American war of the rebellion. The whole modern battle formation rests on the idea of giving more play to the individual. In spite of the technical progress that has made of armies great machines, more weight than ever before is laid on quick judgment, on good shooting, on physical bravery and endurance. I know that an idea quite contrary to this prevails, that many consider war reduced to the art of setting off the greatest quantities of explosives within a given time. But this is very far from the truth. The battles of the past were of much shorter duration than are those of the present. Wagram was won in two hours, Mukden took three days.

One learns to adapt one’s self even to quick-firing guns and incredible rifle-ranges. It has been mathematically demonstrated that, with the rifles now in the hands of the German infantry, a bullet fired from a distance of three hundred yards will pass right through five men standing closely one behind the other and lodge in the body of the sixth. But men in battle line no longer stand closely one behind the other, nor even closely side by side. Even in what is considered a thick firing line they stand about three feet apart.

I have said that the modern idea is to give more play to the individual. Within certain limits the men choose their own position, find the proper rests for their rifles, get each the range for himself, determine the speed of their own fire and use their own judgment in the economizing of ammunition. They are expected to advance according as they see their opportunity.

A glance at the methods of training the infantry will give some idea of the care and thoroughness with which the Germans have made their preparations for war. The old drill has not been entirely abandoned—indeed, some military critics think that there is still too much of the goose-step marching and of the parade tricks. But these have lost their old importance and the tendency of late years is toward the most realistic representation of the circumstances and problems of actual combat. The parade-ground has given place to the maneuvering field, acres and miles in extent. For the first time in Germany, this autumn, whole army corps were to have engaged in mock combat with one another.

In the ordinary rifle practise the men are taught first to shoot well individually, then in groups and detachments, next in whole troops and companies and finally in conjunction with cavalry and artillery. They are made to adapt themselves to the most unfamiliar and unusual surroundings. Even the targets are of the most varied description: targets that fall to the ground when hit, targets that burst, targets surrounded by smoking objects or colored fires so that there will be some of the semblance of battle, fixed targets and targets that move or that float in the air, targets that have been lying flat on the ground but that suddenly appear here and there like an enemy issuing from the bushes. The rifleman must learn never to be surprised at anything, but to keep his eyes open in all directions.

The German army rifle is of a type first introduced in 1888, and so much improved in 1898 that it is now known as the ninety-eight gun. All the infantry carry the same, for there is no longer any essential distinction between musketeers, fusileers and grenadiers. It is a quick-loading rifle which renders it possible to take aim and shoot as many as twenty-five times a minute. The caliber is seven and nine-tenths millimeters, a fact which may not at first seem to the American reader of great importance, but which becomes more interesting when it is realized that this is the smallest caliber which will inflict sufficient injury on an enemy to make its use profitable. In other words, if it does not kill him at once it will put him out of the fight and keep him out for a reasonable time. It was found in the Russian-Japanese War that a smaller bullet could, and in a number of cases did, pass through a foeman’s body without rendering him hors de combat, and that no less than forty per cent. of all wounded were back with their troops in three months.

There are Maxim rifles which can fire as many as a hundred shots a minute and which have other advantages too; but the German government is well satisfied with its own gun, considers it superior to that of any of its neighbors’ and has never seriously considered the question of changing. It has a smokeless powder, the process of manufacture of which is a carefully guarded secret.

A recent innovation is the supplying of the infantry—for that matter of the cavalry also—with so-called machine guns. They are the Gatling guns of our own country, and every German infantry regiment now—since the army reform of 1913—has a machine-gun company. It consists of ninety men and forty horses, with six guns and three ammunition wagons. As the newest guns can fire at the rate of six hundred shots a minute, and as there are more than two hundred infantry regiments, not to speak of the cavalry and artillery, which also have their companies of “Gatlings,” one can gain some impression of the deadliness of modern campaigning. Many of the quick-firing guns now are supplied with stands on pivots so that they can be pointed in the air against balloons and aeroplanes. But their chief use will be in guarding bridges and narrow passes. Their bullets carry for two miles, but they can be silenced by heavy artillery far beyond this range, nor can they carry enough ammunition for long-continued use. Altogether, however, a comparison of their fire with the simple flames of the traditional hell makes the latter place seem a mere pleasure-resort.

The training of a soldier has of late years become more and more humane and rational, and is no longer confined to manning guns, shooting rifles and performing long marches. Those Germans with whom I have spoken on the subject look back to their term of service with pleasure, and my general conviction is that the army in time of peace is the most perfect educational institution in existence. With school learning every boy when he comes to “serve” is more or less equipped. What he learns is esprit de corps, manly bearing, endurance and the feeling that his tasks must be quickly and faultlessly performed—in other words, regularity and discipline. The mere change of surroundings and interests is a benefit, and the outlook on the world is immeasurably broadened. The old argument against compulsory military training—that, namely, young men in their best years are withdrawn from productive work, does not amount to much in an age where the general complaint is of overcrowdedness in almost every calling and profession. The German boy does his work all the better for his military training and the nation has thoroughly adjusted itself to the falling out of these two years. There are dispensations for cases where the boy’s presence at home is a vital matter for the support of others, and, as a rule, a place that he filled before is kept open for him against his return.

One of the pleasantest recent developments has been the enthusiasm for sport that had taken hold of the army. The authorities encouraged it in every way, for it was in keeping with the new tactics of training the individual to be efficient and independent. The author had the pleasure of attending the first great military athletic meet that has ever taken place. It was held in June, 1914, in the great stadium that has been erected near Berlin for the Olympic games of 1916, and that army which is now fighting so strenuously for the very existence of its country was represented in all its pomp and glory. On an elevated terrace was the emperor with his court. Next came the logen or boxes which were blue with the uniforms of the officers. A large majority of the spectators were soldiers, for whom whole sections had been reserved; they marched in in seemingly unending lines, looking very neat in their summer undress uniforms. The exercises began with gymnastics or turnen, to which, all over Germany, the greatest importance is attached. There was the usual running, jumping and throwing of weights—with us it is a shot, with them it is a discus. There was a cross-country run of four miles which started and ended in the stadium, and in which some fifty or sixty officers took part. It was won by a splendid young prince of the royal house, Prince Frederick Leopold. The best comment that I heard on him was that he looked like a first-class American.

But most interesting of all was the obstacle race for the common soldiers. A part of their regular training consists in climbing walls and trees; and on their parade grounds you will find special tracks with ditches, walls and palisades; while occasionally the obstacles are of the most serious kind—iron railings with twisted spikes through which they must make their way. In the stadium games the soldiers lined up on the farther side of a great swimming-pool that runs along one end of the field below the spectators. At a given signal they plunged into the water, swam for dear life to the other side, climbed the low protecting wall and were off helter-skelter for the hurdles and other obstacles. Behind one of the hurdles, concealed by green boughs, was a slimy watery hole, but it detained them but for a moment. Across the track a high straight impromptu wall was held in place by soldiers and up it all the contestants had to clamber. One almost stuck at the top; you watched him breathlessly to see if he could achieve it, but there was no jeering, as I fear there would have been at home. The whole race, in which were some fifty or more participants, was run with a wonderful freshness, joyousness and what the Germans call schneidigkeit, which corresponds to our American slang expression “toniness.”

Even in the ordinary practise on the parade-ground an adjutant keeps a record of the time that the soldiers need to overcome the different obstacles. Whole companies have to pass the required tests. The whole thing is already reduced to such a system that in war an officer will know to the smallest detail what he can expect of his men. Great importance is attached to swimming, for occasions are sure to arise in a campaign when streams are to be forded or where the pontoon divisions have to be assisted.

On the whole the rise of sport has had a great leveling influence in the army. Soldiers and officers do not, indeed, compete with each other as a rule; but they take part in the same meets, and I have observed that the soldier seems to rise in importance while the tendency of the officer is to forget himself in the excitement of the moment. I have a vision of non-participants flying across the field with the tails of their long coats flapping behind them to carry tidings or encouragement to some tired runner—which denotes a very great change from the unswervingly dignified bearing of other days. Soldiers and officers now are encouraged to join athletic associations, which makes for less exclusiveness.

If the infantry is the mainstay of the German army, the cavalry is indispensable for reconnoitering, for making raids and for pursuit. Each cavalryman, as has been said, carries a lance, a sword and a carbine. Much time is spent in training the men to the use of the lance, which is of hollow steel. Men of straw, for instance, are placed on the ground and the lancer, riding by, has to inflict a wound in exactly the place designated. Or a straw head is placed on a stake and must be knocked off in passing. The carbines, which are stuck in the saddle, are of a perfected modern type and are but little inferior to the muskets of the infantry.

Cavalry regiments, with which speed of progress is the first consideration, carry their own bridge-wagons, so that they can either repair bridges that have been destroyed, or construct entirely new ones. It has been found that rafts made of fodder-bags stuffed with straw and held together by lances, boards, logs, etc., can carry comparatively heavy weights. Six such bags as I have described can, at a pinch, carry six men. Barrels and chests are still more useful if they happen to be at hand. Needless to say, the cavalry bridge-wagons also carry explosives for destroying the enemy’s bridges and other defenses.

It has been thought in some quarters that aeroplanes and other contrivances for scouting and communication would supersede cavalry, but the German army administration evidently does not think so, as it has more than 150,000 horses in use even in time of peace. In time of war all private horses are subject to requisition, as are also automobiles, motor-trucks, motor-wheels and aeroplanes. The better riders in a regiment train the horses for the rest, and there is a constant mustering out of the inferior ones in favor of others that are stronger or younger or more docile. There are military riding schools at Hanover, Dresden and Munich, where officers are taught not only to ride well and to instruct others but also to break in young horses.

Prussia has her own stud-farms in which the royal family, since the days of Frederick William I, has taken the greatest interest. There is a regular Prussian type, small and tough. The theory has lately been advanced that Asiatic horses are more free from disease and that they proved more enduring in the recent Turkish-Bulgarian War, while the Prussian horse, through faults in the manner of raising, has degenerated during the long period of unbroken peace. This, however, is simply an academic question and nothing short of war itself can demonstrate that under all conditions another type of horse will be preferable.

The Russian-Japanese War brought the old cavalry raid, such as we associate with the names of Sheridan and Wilson, once more to honor, and an expedition of Mischtschenko’s in February, 1905, though not wholly successful, aroused much interest in cavalry circles in Europe. It is considered not unlikely that such “raids” will play a great part in the present war. The Germans use the American word for the maneuver.

If cavalry is merely an adjunct of infantry, this is still more true of artillery. Its function, according to the latest German writers, is to facilitate the advance of the infantry, or, in other words, to break and open the path by which the infantry shall storm. It has sometimes been thought of the battle of the future that it would consist of two parts: the great artillery duel and the infantry struggle; and that the infantry would have to stand aside until the artillery duel was over. The contrary is the case. The two, in this coming war, will fight side by side: the artillery opening the breach, the infantry coming in.

German batteries consist of six guns, while those of the French have only four. Good authorities, even in Germany, prefer the French system, but the change would mean more expense than was considered warrantable. A novelty is that the guns now have great steel shields that protect the gunners. Another most useful innovation is the so-called wheel belt. A number of flat blocks or shoes, wider than the tire and hinged so as to form a great chain, protect the wheels of the gun-carriage and prevent them from sinking into the mud. Formerly a supply of beams, jackscrews and the like had to be carried along for use in extricating the cannon when they stuck fast. Now every large gun in the army has its belt, which can be removed and put on again at will, the operation lasting but six minutes.

The largest guns accompanying the infantry have a bore of twenty-one centimeters, which is much less, of course, than the fixed guns in fortresses or those used for coast defense. The size of these is ever increasing, and there is already talk of forty centimeter guns. The field guns fire shells and shrapnel and there is a so-called “unit charge” which is a combination of the two. A shrapnel is a thin metal ball filled with explosive bullets and can be discharged either by ignition or percussion. It is considered preferable to have it burst in the air, just above the point aimed at, as the shock is downward. Krupp has patented a shell that explodes by clock-work.

One further fact concerning artillery may interest those who follow the present campaigns. In all the older famous battles the greatest efforts were made to drag the artillery up the hills and have it crown the heights. According to recent strategy it chooses rather low-lying protected spots. Howitzers can shoot right over a hill and have the shell curve and descend on the other side. The calculations as to just where it will strike are made with astounding accuracy, even though the goal itself may be invisible. The guns are being constantly improved, but the greatest secrecy is observed with regard to them. They are shrouded as they pass through the streets and no one can inspect them without a written order.

The low situation has its great advantages as well as its disadvantages, but the latter can be counteracted. In order to be able to overlook the field, each battery now has an observation ladder or column, of which the parts can be telescoped into short space and carried between two wheels. When desired it is projected into the air. One advantage of this new invention is that the wheeled observation ladder can be sent off to quite a distance carrying a portable telephone by means of which it is possible at all times to communicate with the gunners.

Many cannon now have telescopes attached to them to assist the gunner in taking aim. When we reflect that some of the guns can shoot five and six miles, the necessity of this will be apparent.

For storming fortifications there are special heavy siege guns. A modern fortress is something very different from a medieval or even from an early nineteenth century one. The old city walls, however solidly built, are now regarded as mere pleasant bits of antiquity, and in dozens of German towns have been razed to the ground and converted into rings or boulevards. So in the city of Cologne, in Ulm. In their place we now have groups of sunken guns, of protected batteries and of underground bomb-proof rooms with walls of reinforced concrete twelve and fifteen feet thick. Here and there armored turrets project a few feet above the ground. Some of the rooms are large enough for a whole company of infantry. The sunken guns can rise from their resting-places, fire their charges and sink back into their beds. Germany has twenty-eight land forts in all, of which nine are modern in every regard, and eight coast fortifications. Should the Russians enter Prussia we may hear much of the great forts at KÖnigsberg, Graudenz and Thorn, at Danzig, Kulm and Marienburg, or of the Silesian forts Glogau, Neisse and Glatz, which played a part already in the wars of Frederick the Great. In the west, Metz and Strasburg have been immeasurably strengthened since they passed into German hands, and Mainz, Coblenz, Cologne, Germersheim and Wesel are all formidable. To the south are Ulm and Ingolstadt, while in the north are Kustrin and Spandau, the latter but a few miles from Berlin. In Saxony is the KÖnigstein, which, by reason of its natural position, is considered as impregnable as any fortress can be.

Whether the Germans will ever be forced back into these strong positions remains to be seen. Their policy is to keep to the offensive and spare their own land as much as possible. However, what strength of arms may fail to accomplish may be reserved for famine. With her commerce entirely cut off, the food supply for the nation at large will be but scanty, and of all the criticisms I have read on the German army during the last six months those on the commissariat department have been the most severe. A change in the whole administration was ordered a few months before the war broke out, but it has scarcely as yet had time to go into full effect.

The Army of the Air

Probably the greatest difference between ancient and modern warfare lies in the systematic use that is now made of balloons, air-ships, aeroplanes and kites, also of telegraphy, both fixed and wireless, and of the telephone. I should add to these, automobiles, motor-trucks, motorcycles and simple bicycles.

It may not be generally known that as far back as 1870 Germany attempted to make regular use of military balloons, and that two balloons and equipment were purchased from an English aeronaut. Several ascents were successfully made with a member of the general staff as passengers. Before Paris, however, it proved impossible to obtain the gas for inflation, and the whole balloon detachment was dissolved. Fourteen years later, in 1884, regular experiments regarding the taking of observations and the exchanging of signals were begun. Fifty thousand marks a year were set aside for the purpose, and so satisfactory were the results that in 1887 a regular balloon corps was organized with a major, a captain, three lieutenants and fifty non-commissioned officers and men. The discovery that the gas could be transported in steel cases in a greatly condensed form placed military ballooning on a much securer basis and the corps, greatly increased, has taken part in the yearly maneuvers since 1893. The captive balloon is still used as a sort of training-ship for recruits, but the free balloon has been practically superseded.

The first Zeppelin and the first Parseval air-ships were acquired in 1907 and, in spite of frequent accidents, have become as much a part of the armed forces as have batteries or battle-ships. There are now no less than five air-ship battalions under the “general board of inspection of military, air and power transport matters.” The combined appropriations of Prussia, Bavaria and WÜrttemberg for their air fleets in 1913 amounted to 70,000,000 marks. The recent ships, which are not necessarily confined to the Zeppelin type, though built along the same lines, are almost as large as ocean steamships. Last year the “L II” carried twenty-eight passengers on its trial trip. It exploded in mid-air and twenty-seven were killed, among them almost all of Germany’s chief military aeronautic experts. “L III,” which is nearly completed, will have a displacement of 32,000 cubic meters. The largest and newest ship at present, the SchÜtte-Lanz II, has a displacement of between 23,000 and 24,000 cubic meters, is run by four Maybach motors, each of one hundred seventy horse-power, and beats the previous Zeppelin record for speed (seventy-nine kilometers or forty-nine and three-eighths miles an hour) by six kilometers. No other country has any air-ship that can in any way compare with this. Under construction is the twenty-fifth Zeppelin, which will have a length of some four hundred fifty feet. All modern air-ships are equipped with wireless telegraphy having a range of about four hundred kilometers, and can carry light Gatling guns. They can lift a weight of some 16,000 pounds and their cost is from 700,000 marks upward. The Germans have practised very industriously with their air-ships—only the other day a pilot completed his seven hundredth trip.

Whether in war the Zeppelins will come up to the expectations that have been formed of them remains of course to be seen. One can conceive of a single ship, under favorable conditions, throwing down enough explosives on an army to put it completely to rout. But the Zeppelin is a very big target and its motors make enough noise to warn a whole city of its approach. Russia and Germany herself now have many vertical guns for shooting air-ships. On the other hand, a Zeppelin can fly very high and can take refuge behind a cloud. Its chief objects of attack will doubtless be arsenals, dockyards, bridges and tunnel-mouths, though no fleet near the shore and no camp can feel quite safe from it in future. It would be so tempting to drop a shell in the midst of an enemy’s general staff and thus bring confusion into the whole guidance of the army!

The Zeppelin has dangerous enemies in the ordinary aeroplanes. A Frenchman has just vowed to run the nose of his “plane” into the first air-ship that appears over Paris. It is possible for the airman to shoot, too, at close range, or to fly above the monster and let down ropes with hooks that shall tear its sides. The new ships, however, as I have said, can carry Gatling guns, and it is only a question of how they can best trail them on the enemy. The latest idea is a shaft that shall extend right through the body of the Zeppelin and come out on the upper surface. This arrangement has been tried on the newest SchÜtte-Lanz.

To the value of aeroplanes as instruments of war Germany awakened late. Not until after an exhibition of the American, Orville Wright, on the Templehof field near Berlin in 1910 was the matter taken very seriously. Now there are four flying battalions in the army with nearly fifteen hundred men, and it is believed that the machines are more solid and stable than those of the French. All records were broken by German machines during the past year, and the great Prince Henry races in May, though fatal accidents occurred, demonstrated very well about what may be expected from a troop of airmen in time of war. The conditions were extremely severe and the weather was not favorable, yet twelve out of twenty-nine starters achieved the final goal within the time limit.

The favorite machine in the German army is the Albatross-Taube, which looks quite warlike with its metal armor covering motor and all. Both monoplanes and biplanes are used. In case of war all aeroplanes, even the stock in trade of the manufacturer, are commandeered. These aeroplanes are easily transportable by rail so that a number of them can be concentrated close to the scene of action. They will be used for scouting, carrying despatches and dropping bombs, and undoubtedly will have a great effect upon warfare. It is likely that more maneuvering will be done under the cover of night than formerly in order to escape the spying eyes of the birdmen, that false marches and maneuvers will be undertaken, that bivouac fires will be lighted in unoccupied places merely for the purpose of deceiving. It will be easy to conceal cannon by covering them with green boughs.

The German soldiers are already being trained for these new night operations which the aeroplane and air-ship will necessitate. They are taught to make their way by the moon and stars, to place their ears to the ground and catch and interpret sounds. It is possible for a finely trained ear to tell in the case of a passing horse whether it is running free or whether it is carrying a load, also to estimate the approximate number of a passing troop. Silent marching is practised, too, the greatest care being taken that the objects carried shall not clash or rattle. The enemy carries powerful electric search-lights against aeroplanes; a single apparatus requires several vehicles, each drawn by four horses. There must be a motor, a dynamo, a great mirror, a water wagon and a portable tower thirty feet high. The infantry carries lighter apparatus, too, that can now be loaded on an automobile, the motor of which can be used for running the dynamo. Aeroplanes, too, now carry search-lights.

An enormous number of automobiles are used in the army. The German government has a special arrangement with motor-truck owners (the same is done with steamship companies) by which it pays a subsidy for new trucks on the understanding that they shall be at its disposal in time of need. It has been estimated that nine motor-wagons can replace one hundred thirty-nine horses and will need thirty instead of one hundred two men. Such a wagon will carry easily four tons of baggage.

The Officers

With all the technical aids and inventions, however, the decisive factor in a war remains the men and more especially the officers.

I recently overheard a well-known Boston woman teacher holding forth with the positiveness of complete conviction on the subject of the German officer and commiserating him on the life of idleness circumstances forced him to lead “except, of course, during the three or four hours a day when he is obliged to exercise.” The remark was addressed to a distinguished Harvard professor—anti-military, however, to the core—who had no contradiction to offer. I should have marked both of these great people zero for flat ignorance of the subject had I had them in a class. The German officer, I grant, may occasionally seem as idle and as frivolous as the son of a new American millionaire: the only difference would be that the American conceals his idleness under a show of industriousness, sending telegrams when he has nothing else to do, while the German conceals the fact that he has been up since four in the morning training a mass of raw recruits, that he has spent several hours at the Kriegsakademie studying languages, geography, political economy and the like and that he has as a permanent job some important problem in tactics to work out. Those who know the methods of the Prussian government could never accuse it of giving its employees too little work. A list is kept of all officers in which their industry, their interest in their work and their general good conduct is noted. The ideal that is kept before them may not be exactly our ideal, but it is a wonderful one of knightly virtue all the same. The man may never forget that he is a leader of men; he must grip his standard of honor, such as it is, like grim death and be willing unhesitatingly to lay down his life for it. If he flinch or falter in physical encounter or in any way is “guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer” he has to resign his position. He has to conform not only to the rule of his superiors but also to the code of his fellow officers. There are things in that code that one would like not to see there and one misses much that might well be included, but to down the profession as a sinecure “except, of course, during the three or four hours a day” is the purest folly.

And peace-time is the mere waiting-period, the period of training for the real work. In war-time the fate of the whole country hangs on the officer. An Italian, Mangiarotti, recently inquired of some two thousand soldiers who had just taken part in the African campaign regarding their sensations when facing the enemy. “The great ideals of God, king and fatherland,” he writes, “incorporate themselves in one single personality, the officer.” The lieutenant who does his duty in the firing line is an absolute hero to his men. But only real superiority of mind and body can keep him at this height.

There are more than thirty thousand officers in the regular standing army, the great majority of them belonging to the nobility, who feel that they have a hereditary right to these positions. I am inclined to think that this feeling of caste will not be disadvantageous in war. The military career from youth up has been the one serious object and occupation in life. The memory of Jena has been preventative of pride and an incentive to hard work. The habit of commanding gained as lord of the manor—as Herr Graf or as Herr Baron—will not be useless in the field.

Price Collier, in his Germany and the Germans, gives the officer a bad character for arrogance and instances the fact that an officer will crowd a woman off the sidewalk. Such cases are very rare to-day, much rarer than they were some thirty years ago. The Zabern affair, however, has thrown a glaring light on a certain presumptuousness in the army and aroused at the time very bitter passions. There was a contempt for the ordinary laws of justice connected with the trial that is likely to avenge itself in time if it has not already done so. But no human institution is perfect, and the officer has at present far other things to think of than presumptuousness.

In time of war many more officers are needed than in time of peace. This is provided for in Germany by a different and less perfect system than in France. From the one-year volunteers, of whom there are about 15,000 yearly, are taken the “officer aspirants,” who then undergo supplementary training, returning at intervals in later life for further instruction and practise. The general structure of the army does not change in time of war. Instead of numbering five or six hundred men the size of a battalion is raised to eleven hundred or more. There are supplementary troops in all branches, consisting partly of retired soldiers and partly of raw recruits, who must be licked into shape as quickly as possible, but who serve mainly to fill up the ranks at the front as they become depleted. Every able-bodied man must leave his occupation and take to the ranks whether he has had military training or not. Even a German in foreign lands, if he fail to report for duty to his consul, is liable on his return to a sentence of six years in the penitentiary. How many will hasten to naturalize themselves in other countries is one of the problems of the war.

Horses, too, are called in in great numbers as soon as mobilization is ordered. In time of peace the twenty-five army corps, each numbering about forty thousand men, require 157,000 horses; in time of war the demand, of course, will be much larger, and this is provided for by instant requisition. But not at random. A list or census is regularly kept of practically all the horses in the country; it is revised at stated intervals and commissioners note the adaptability of every animal to this or that purpose. In times of mobilization the animals are brought before final commissions, consisting partly of military, partly of civilian members, who appraise their value and declare them confiscate. The transferring of horses to the rallying centers is one of the chief difficulties of the railroads, which, as is well known, belong to the state and are altogether closed to general traffic during the mobilization period.

Germany is putting, so it is estimated, some four million men into the field. And behind them, should the war last long, are nearly a million boys who belong to the Prussian Jung Deutschland and to the Bavarian Wehrkraftverein. Boy scouts, we should call them in our country, but in Germany they are regularly trained by officers in the army—an occupation of these sinecure-holders that I omitted to mention. They are taken in squads on long tramps, are trained to use their eyes and ears and enjoy the life of the hills and woods. They carry their cooking utensils and prepare their own meals. The government encourages the institution by large grants and often places barracks and tents at the disposal of the boys for longer expeditions. Public and private generosity, too, has provided homes in out-of-the-way places where the boys can take shelter over night.

How deadly an instrument for war is the German army remains to be seen. That it has already accomplished many fine things in time of peace is undoubted. Not the least of these is the spread of hygienic knowledge and the encouragement of manliness.

By the terms of the German constitution the Kaiser is head and chief of the whole German army and, notwithstanding concessions made to Bavaria, WÜrttemberg and Saxony for the period when it remains on a peace-footing, is absolute commander in time of war. Whether he will personally take the field or not is another question. If he does he will be upheld by an enormous wave of loyalty, but, on the other hand, the presence of a monarch in camp is often a hindrance to the operations. His own great-grandfather, and at the same time the Austrian emperor, made life very bitter for BlÜcher and the other real fighters in 1814.

The real business of commanding a modern army is done by the chief of the general staff. It is of good augury that the present holder of that position is again a Moltke. On him falls the planning and the responsibility for carrying out of the plans, though he has under him a huge staff of subordinates—more than two hundred in all—whose duty is to collect information, make reports and even tender advice. The older Moltke once wrote: “The make-up of the headquarters of an army is of an importance not always sufficiently realized. Some commanders need no advice, but weigh and decide things for themselves. Their subordinates have merely to carry out instructions. But such stars of first radiance are only to be found about once in a century. Only a Frederick the Great takes counsel with no one and determines everything himself. As a rule the leader of an army can not do without advice.” The old plan was to hold a council of war and abide by its decisions; the new one is for the commanding general to use every aid from others but to take the whole responsibility himself.

Headquarters travels with the army and with it goes the imperial chancellor, ready to take advantage of every happening in the field to influence the course of negotiations. The minister of war remains at home to see to the prompt forwarding of troops and supplies. In 1870 and 1871 Bismarck had much to suffer from female influences—royal ladies who objected to the bombardment of beautiful cities and the like. There are at present no royal ladies in Germany who are likely to interfere. BlÜcher used to insist that the most merciful way of making war was to be absolutely relentless in pursuit—to the last man and to the last horse. The worst thing that can happen is to have the campaign drag on slowly with necessity of renewing battles. This phase of the matter royal ladies do not always understand.

If the example of the Franco-Prussian War is followed the Germans will put as many as six different armies into the field, each with some four army-corps. There are twenty-five army-corps, and the fighting part of a single army-corps, which numbers some 41,000 men, strings out on an ordinary road to a distance of twenty-six kilometers or more than sixteen miles. As the food supplies, medical and surgical apparatus and ammunition wagons have to follow at a considerable distance we may estimate the length of the whole column at more than double this amount. Were the whole standing army (not to speak of the reserves) to travel along the same road it would take twenty-five days to pass a fixed point. It may be said here that the number of direct roads passing from Germany into France is small and that for purposes of invasion the possession of Belgium was a strategic necessity. Its occupation meant victory or defeat in the great struggle and the devil take the consequences. Belgium and France are so at one that the French have so trusted to the forts of Liege and Namur, which they believed to be impregnable, that they have done little to fortify their own borders in that direction.

Who the commanding generals of the German army are to be has not yet been made public in America. Judging by the holders of high positions in peace-time they will be Grand Duke Frederick II of Baden, Duke Albert of WÜrttemberg, Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria and the generals BÜlow, Eichhorn, Heeringen and Prittwitz. Whether or not the German crown-prince will be given a command is doubtful. He is brave and dashing but impetuous and unbalanced, and his relations with his father have been somewhat strained. I am told that at maneuvers he expects far too much from his men and horses, though his pleasant manners and his joking way make him very popular. He may, of course, prove the Frederick the Great of the campaign should it last sufficiently long for him to gain the proper experience.