To the Last Man - Jeff Shaara [307]
Foch stood, seemed shaken, frail. “I should leave, General. I have caused you distress, which was not my intention. This was to be an informal visit.”
Pershing moved quickly to the door, felt his hands shaking, stared at the closed door for a moment. He turned now, said, “My apologies, sir. I have done much traveling in the past few days.”
Foch seemed to welcome the opportunity for a friendly exit. He was at the door now, waited while Pershing pulled it open. “Sorry to have disturbed you, General. We shall meet again soon. Let us pray for the success of Marshal Haig and his troops.”
“Certainly.”
Foch was down the hallway now, and Pershing heard the adjacent door opening, faces appearing, silent questions.
“He has gone. It was just an informal visit. I’m going to get some sleep.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Of course, sir.”
Pershing closed the door, stared across the room, was not in the mood to look at flowers. The words rolled angrily through his brain, driven hard by his own exhaustion. One word shouted itself: respond. We shall wait and respond to Haig’s plan, just as we responded to the German offensives. These people are so bruised and battered, they can only think defensively. He thought of Haig, all the false bluster, the man more tormented by his own government than he was by the enemy. Well, Foch is right about one thing. We had damned well better pray for you, Sir Douglas, because if the Germans toss you back into your own defenses, and bloody you as badly as they have done before, this war is a long way from over. Foch is convinced we’ll still be fighting a year from now. But the AEF didn’t come over here just to make counterattacks, and our troops didn’t train so damned hard just so they can sit in the damned mud. And if Foch doesn’t learn to accept that, then this year and next year will come and go, and we’ll all still be having these same damned arguments.
AUGUST 8, 1918
The artillery barrage began at four-twenty in the morning, across a front fourteen miles wide. Almost immediately afterward a massive wave of British, Canadian, and Anzac troops followed four hundred tanks straight into the battered German position. The Germans were caught by surprise, or, as Haig had predicted, could not mount an effective defense whether they were prepared or not. By the end of the first day, Haig’s forces had plunged nine miles into German-held territory and had captured fifteen thousand prisoners. Three days later, Haig’s position was held in check by gathering German resistance, but not before the Germans had lost another twelve thousand prisoners, and tens of thousands of casualties. With German resistance stiffening, Foch and Haig agreed to change fronts, and on August 15, launched a second assault farther north, near Albert, northward to the Arras River. Though the German defense was stout, Haig’s attack continued to push the Germans back, until finally, two weeks after it had begun, the Germans had been forced away from most of the gains made by the spring offensives. Haig had accomplished exactly what he intended. The Germans had been driven back, with considerable losses they could not afford. While the Allies measured their reactions, and pondered what to do next, across the lines, the situation was summed up succinctly by General Ludendorff:
August 8 was the black day of the German army in the history of the war.
On August 10, the American First Army was officially brought into existence, and Pershing had established his new headquarters at Neufchâteau, on the Meuse River south of Verdun. Most of the American divisions were already moving south toward their new sector along the St. Mihiel salient. Pershing had put the wheels into motion. By mid-September, he would have the AEF prepared for their