The prolonged pouring of soldiers' lives into the swamps be yond Ypres had led Lloyd George and his cabinet to withhold reinforcements for fear of encouraging fresh squandering. This undoubtedly weakened Haig's initial power of resistance to the German onslaught, yet it is just to point out that it was weak ened worse—in quality as well as quantity—by the 400,000 Brit ish casualties suffered in the offensive of the later part of 1917. Moreover, we should not forget that the Government had the heavy responsibility of being the trustees for the lives of the nation. The real ground of criticism is that it was not strong enough to make a change in, or place a check upon, a command which it did not trust, while supplying the reinforcements neces sary for defence. And for this lack of moral strength the public must share the blame, for they had already shown themselves too easily swayed by clamour against political interference with the generals, and too prone to believe that the politician is in variably wrong on such occasions. The civilian public, indeed, is apt to trust soldiers too little in peace, and sometimes too much in war.
These political handicaps, and their accompanying tendency to work deviously towards what dared not be demanded openly, were also seen in the project for a unified command. The prime minister, indeed, had gone so far in December as to disclaim faith in his own long-sought cure. Instead he sought a palliative in an inter-Allied executive committee, under Foch's chairman ship, which should control a common general reserve of 3o divi sions. This scheme was stillborn in face of the opposition of the respective commanders-in-chief, Haig and Petain. The decisive act came from Haig, who, when called on by Foch for his con tribution of seven divisions, replied that he could spare none. He and Petain united in preferring an arrangement between them selves for mutual support.
When the test came, a week later, this broke down, and Haig then took a foremost part in hastening and facilitating the ap pointment of a generalissimo, which he had formerly opposed.
For the itctual breakdown the blame has been commonly thrown upon the French, and there is no question that Haig under stood from Petain on March 24 that if the Germans continued their rapid progress the French reserves would have to be used to cover Paris. But in fairness it is essential to add that, whereas the original compact had only pledged the aid of some six French divisions, Petain actually sent nine by March 24, and 21 (including four of cavalry) by March 26. If these reinforce ments were, perhaps, slower in coming into action than in des patch, it does not affect the fact that the original pledge was amply exceeded. Thus, the fundamental fault would seem to lie in trusting to an arrangement for such slender support by either Ally.
would be a race between the effect of Germany's blow and the arrival of American reinforcements, although he hoped to win the race. To secure the rear of his offensive, a definite peace was won from the Bolshevik Government of Russia by a military demonstration, and also forced on Rumania. And to secure if possible the economic base of his offensive the Ukraine was oc cupied, for its wheat supplies, with little resistance except from Czechoslovak troops, who had formerly been taken prisoners from the Austrian army.
Ludendorff's next problem was to decide his first point of attack. The sector between Arras and St. Quentin was chosen, on the western face of the great salient formed by the German front in France. The choice was governed by tactical reasons—this sector was the enemy's weakest point and the ground offered fewer difficulties than elsewhere—although Ludendorff had in mind the possibility of separating the Allied armies and driving the British back against the Channel coast, too closely penned in to evade the blows. From the experience of the vain Allied attacks Ludendorff had drawn the deduction that "Tactics had to be considered before purely strategical objects which it is futile to pursue unless tactical success is possible." Hence he formulated a strategical plan based on the principle of taking the tactical line of least resistance. Presumably he hoped by firm control to guide these tactical movements to a strategic destination. If so, he failed.
Where did the fault lie? The general view at the end of the war was that the tactical bias had led Ludendorff to change direction and dissipate his strength. That if the Franco-British command had previously erred by aiming at the strategically correct target without enough attention to the tactical difficul ties, the German command had followed it with an equal if oppo site error by concentrating on tactical success at the expense of the strategical goal. But a closer examination of the German documents since available, and of Ludendorff's own orders and instructions, throws a different light on the question. It would seem, indeed, that the real fault was that Ludendorff failed to carry out in practice the new principle he had adopted in theory; that he either did not grasp or shrank from the full implication of this new theory of strategy. He dissipated too large a part of his reserves in trying to redeem tactical failures and hesitated too long over the decision to exploit his tactical successes. Luden dorff's strategy in the East had been so masterly and so far sighted that his indecision and short-sight in the West is difficult to explain. Perhaps he himself was feeling the strain of directing so many vast operations ; perhaps it was that he missed the strategical insight and balanced view of Hoffmann who, after being at his side throughout the 1914-16 campaigns, had stayed in the East when Ludendorff went to the supreme command. The modern vice of seniority prevented Germany from making the fullest use of the man who perhaps approached nearer to military genius than any other military figure of the war.