To the Last Man - Jeff Shaara [81]
Von Hindenburg laughed again. “Discretion and subtlety, General. I admit it was a lesson I had to learn. There were war games once, a mock battle created for the kaiser’s entertainment. He had suggested we approach this like a great campaign, and he established himself in a grand headquarters with maps and an enormous staff. It was quite fun, actually, though not much of a challenge. But I made the mistake of defeating him. I assumed it was my duty to do so. On the contrary, it was my duty to do anything but. From that moment forward, he was said to speak ill of me at every opportunity. It was a situation that took years to correct.”
“How . . . ?”
“Discretion and subtlety, General. You are not the master of either one. Please, this is not an insult to you. I have confidence in your abilities. You must be confident in mine. Draw up your plans, your strategies. Leave the kaiser to me.”
Ludendorff could not help smiling at von Hindenburg’s good humor. “Of course.” He paused, moved a pad of paper in front of him, studied for a moment, said, “I believe that General Falkenhayn’s original philosophy was correct, that the way to win this war now is to bleed the enemy until he is too weak to fight. His error was in choosing the aggressive attack as the means to achieve this. What worked for us against Russia will not necessarily work in France.” Von Hindenburg leaned back in the chair, listening to every word. Ludendorff continued, “If we had been allowed to destroy the Russians altogether, this would not be a discussion. We could focus all our power against the West.”
“General, you know very well that no one will ever destroy the Russians. No matter how poorly they are equipped or how inferior their training, there are too many of them and their country is too vast. You may defeat them on a dozen battlefields, but even in defeat they can take the advantage. The strategy of retreat is most effective for them. No army can hope to follow them into the abyss of their country. They will always live to fight another day. The important thing is to accomplish exactly what you and I have already accomplished. Remove them from our land, and defend our border so they can never strike effectively.”
“Someone should teach the Austrians that.”
Von Hindenburg sniffed, and Ludendorff knew it was the one subject that could anger the old man. From the start of the war, the Germans had been forced to send a constant stream of assistance to their Austrian allies. Von Hindenburg was scowling now, said, “There is no lesson for them to learn. It is not about their generals, but their soldiers. Germany is one land, one people. Austria is a great bowl of soup, filled with every manner of tribe and culture, whose very differences weaken their monarchy. The Russians have discovered this, certainly. And so, the Russians will concentrate their attention away from Germany and strike where the weakness has presented itself.”
It was a subject they had discussed many times, and Ludendorff said, “I have been recently asked why Germany has allowed herself to be allied with an Austrian corpse. I admit, I still have no good answer.”
“Politics, General. Simple as that. Emperor Franz-Josef is a relic, a tired old man who bends to the will of anyone he fears. He fears the kaiser, and so, he obeys. Kaiser Wilhelm sees Austria-Hungary as a land of opportunity. He probably believes that one day he might unite the two empires, if not by a military alliance, then perhaps by marriage. It is after all, what monarchs do.”
“But Austria cannot fight!”
“Do not exaggerate, General. The Austrians can certainly fight. What they cannot do is win.”
Ludendorff was always affected by von Hindenburg’s rare dark moods. He scanned the papers, knew they had many things to discuss, did not want von Hindenburg to dwell on the problems of Austria. He searched for a way to conclude the topic, said, “Then we shall continue to assist them.