1915_ The Death of Innocence - Lyn Macdonald [149]
The failure of the latest French venture had put things in a new light and early next morning a note from Sir William Robertson warned Plumer that ‘in all probability’ it would be necessary to begin to take measures for withdrawal that night. Sir John French had made up his mind and he drove to Cassel to inform General Foch. Foch was far from pleased. In the course of a long discussion he urged the Commander-in-Chief to change his mind, or at least to agree once more to postpone his retirement and give the French troops one more chance to retrieve their lost ground. Foch was very persuasive. In the face of his arguments – and they were many – Sir John French pointed out in vain that his troops were tired, that his casualties were large and that resources were being used up which could not be spared in the light of ‘the scheme further south’. Foch out-argued and out-manoeuvred him at every turn. He pointed out the tactical disadvantage of holding a line on lower ground overlooked by the enemy and insisted that retirement would be an admission of weakness that would simply invite the enemy to attack to push the allies even further back and possibly capture Ypres itself. He made much of the ‘moral ascendancy’ that would inevitably pass to the Germans. He admitted previous failures – admitted even that the attack planned for that same day might ‘not be important’ – but a large force of heavy artillery was expected hourly. Tomorrow they would succeed! There was no doubt of it – but they would succeed only if the British supported them unstintingly. Sir John French gave in, though not without misgivings. As soon as he had driven off, as if sensing his ambivalence, Foch drafted a letter to GHQ to summarise their discussion and to drive home the point that, rather than ordering retirement, a retirement should be positively forbidden. In conclusion he begged the British Commander-in-Chief to ‘be good enough to keep to his present intention and to support the French offensive to retake the Langemarck region at all costs’. The last nine words of this typewritten letter had been heavily underlined by General Foch himself.
In Sir John French’s absence another communication had arrived at GHQ, this time from General Plumer, and, although it formally confirmed acceptance of his new responsibilities, it pulled no punches with regard to the situation in the field. He gave his opinions more concisely than General Smith-Dorrien, but they were nevertheless identical to his. The present line could not be permanently held. Further attacks could only result in more loss of life and the longer the retirement was delayed the more difficult and costly it would be. Plumer accepted that ‘the French should be given a certain time to regain their trenches’ before the retirement began but, like Smith-Dorrien, he was prepared to give only artillery support unless French troops were seen to be making ‘appreciable progress’.
It was difficult to argue with this line of thought, but Sir John French had been swayed by Foch more than he might have admitted and Foch had painted a lurid picture of the consequences of retirement, emphasising the possibility that it might set in motion a train of events that would lose them Ypres itself. And that would be unthinkable.
Sir John French had not been infected or influenced by the belief, passionately held throughout the French Army, that every centimetre of stricken France should ‘at all costs’ be wrested from the grip of the hated invader and defended to the last man. His long military experience rebelled at the very thought and he knew full well that the cost and effort of clinging on to an awkward salient in defence of a ruined city was worthless in military terms. But nevertheless there were cogent reasons why the loss of Ypres would be disastrous.
If the British Army was not to risk diminishing its stature in world opinion it badly needed a decisive victory which, in the view of the Commander-in-Chief, his part in Joffre’s offensive