Re: Blood and Iron

History was filled with simplistic tactics during a time of war that, when observing with a rational mind one might not believe had any chance of possibly succeeding. And if one were purely logical and rational this would indeed be the result 100/100 times.

But most of the time a plan that was perfectly conceived, and perfectly thought through failed not because there was faulty logic within the plot itself. But because of the execution of said scheme.

Why was execution usually the failing point? Because unlike everything else involved, whether that be the logistics, strategy, or tactics prepared in advance, it was ultimately the execution that was prone to the most severe and often overlooked critical mistake.

Human error. Those two words, when combined together in sequence described something that could even further be simplified by the term stupidity. In this world, as a human, you were forced to interact with other people, whether directly or indirectly.

Nothing existed in a vacuum with you alone. And because other people existed, and were prone to being stupid, one would need to factor this into their plans if they wanted to guarantee success. Why do I mention human stupidity? Well, because certain tactics on the battlefield that proved successful time and time again would never be achieved without that very thing.

For example, the feigned retreat, a tactic which the Mongols almost exclusively used on the field to obtain victory had only worked because every time they attempted it their enemies chose to pursue them, rather than simply stand still in their fortified position.

It was very simple not to fall prey to the "feigned retreat." When the enemy breaks ranks and flees, do not pursue them, rather fortify your own position so that you are in a better position for their next attack.

War was a long and drawn-out affair. Seldom in history was an army capable of obliterating another army to the last man. That is why it was an accomplishment that was usually awarded with the most exceptional of decorations or other forms of prizes.

Likewise, the double envelopment was another such strategy. If one simply was aware of their surroundings as they should be at all times, and advanced at a reasonably paced, in line with their own reinforcements, then it was impossible to fall prey to its devastating effects. And that is ultimately the crux of this essay.

Paul von Hindenburg's grand strategy to annihilate the allies in Luxembourg relied upon nobody within the chain of command proposing the idea that maybe, just maybe it was a bad idea to advance into an area where they could easily be surrounded and fired upon from all sides by an army of equal if not greater size. And one that was technologically superior at that.

But the allies were desperate, desperate for a win of sizeable fortitude. One that could convince the people back home in their nations that this war was worth continuing. Losses were colossal for the Allies. Millions were already injured, and hundreds of thousands lie dead. If not a million in total.

Hell, France alone had thrown enough men at the German fortifications that they could easily have one million dead. Meanwhile, German casualties were maybe one tenth in total of the Allies as a whole. And the Central Powers were perhaps one fifth.

As the Austro-Hungarians and Russians were far less advanced than the German Army, and likewise had less capable leadership. But it was not like the Allied Powers were so incompetent that nobody saw that this was a potentially disastrous situation that they were walking into.

In fact, one man of note had already predicted this was going to end with horrific consequences for the allies. And because of this, he had secretly dispatched a runner to inform the head of the French Army that the General in charge of the invasion was about to make an enormous mistake of epic proportions.

The runner, perhaps channeling the spirit of Pheidippides, ran a distance of over three hundred kilometers in the span of 72 hours. After all, the Allied Army was primarily marching on foot, and with horse-drawn carriages to support the munitions necessary for their assault.

It would take them over a week to arrive at the border of Luxembourg and Germany where the Germans had appeared to have retreated to. But with a dedicated ultramarathon runner travelling nonstop over the course of three days. He could make it to Paris in time, assuming he took time out of his day to properly rehydrate, eat, and take care of other bodily needs.

And arrive in Paris the man did, exhausted and on the brink of death, as he forced his way into the headquarters of the French Army's general staff much to the outcry of those inside and the men who guarded their private office.

---

The French High Command stood with their British advisors in Paris. Word of their impending victory had reached their ears. Assurances were given to them by the General in charge of the invasion force that at every encounter the Germans had fled.

Only a few small scale battles had taken place, and though losses for the Allies were quite high, or at least relative to what one would normally undertake in such an effort. They were much lower than previous attempts to defeat the Germans in battle.

Hence, the Allied leadership was already celebrating what they thought would be a grand success, drinking wine and snacking on cheese as they made their comments.

"With the Wolf of Prussia tied up in the Balkans, it would appear the German Army has been properly defanged. Our victory is absolutely certain! Luxembourg will fall, and from there we can advance into Alsace-Lorraine and seize control over our lands that have been stolen from us for far, far too long!"

The sentiment was shared by the others in the room, until loud shouting from outside the door interrupted their celebrations, causing them to frown. One of the British Generals was quick to turn to the ongoing commotion and inquire about what was happening just outside their office.

"What in the devil is going on out there?"

With this said, the door burst open, as a French soldier in absolutely horrid state held up a letter that had been coated in his own sweat, forcing it up so that the men would notice.

"I am here on behalf of Colonel Charles de Gaulle. He has entrusted me with this letter to be given to Commander-in-Chief Joseph Joffre and him alone! Please, it is urgent!"

The French Chief of Staff quickly stood up and approached the enlisted soldier and grabbed hold of the letter. And upon reading the words contained within it, instantly began cursing up a storm.

"Damned fool! So eager for victory that you don't see you have entered the jaws of a ravenous tiger lying in wait for you!?! Call off the assault at once! We must not advance past the city of Luxembourg! Not until we can confirm what the Germans are rally plotting!"

This news was shocking to say the least, and no doubt soured the mood in the room. But nobody dared to question the man in charge of the Allied forces at the Western Front. And thus telegraphs were sent out, and calls were made, desperately trying to stop the advance before they moved beyond the point of no return.