“I chose Verdun not to capture a city, but to force France to defend it—and I was dismissed for the arithmetic that followed.”
I was schooled in the Prussian army—plain habits, exact duty. Colonial service and a posting as military adviser in China taught me how supply and endurance decide campaigns. In 1913 I became Prussian War Minister; after the Marne, on 14 September 1914, the Kaiser placed me at the head of the General Staff.
Confronted with a two-front war, I judged annihilating victories illusory at acceptable cost. I preferred limited aims: contain Russia, strike opportunities in the West, spend shells and men only where the arithmetic favored us.
In December 1915 I set down a plan in a Christmas memorandum: choose a place the French must defend, compel them to come, and break them with artillery. I named it Operation Gericht—judgment. Verdun fixed their reserves and, as I wrote then, would ‘bleed the French Army white.’ It did not yield a decision; it yielded graves. On 29 August 1916 I was dismissed; Hindenburg and Ludendorff assumed command.
I remained a soldier. With the 9th Army, working alongside Mackensen, we defeated Romania and entered Bucharest on 6 December 1916. In 1917 I commanded under the Ottoman flag in Syria–Palestine, reorganizing defenses before British breakthroughs; later I returned to the Eastern Front. After the war I published my account, Die Oberste Heeresleitung 1914–1916, so that my reasoning, and its costs, would be on the record.
I won my name at Kimberley with cavalry dash, then kept the Channel ports by ordering men to dig and die; ask me which decision cost me more sleep.
Start the conversationI was summoned from retirement to win Tannenberg; later I appointed Hitler, believing him restrainable—ask what I misjudged.
Start the conversationA cavalryman by training, I fought a war of mud and wire—and spent my later years serving those I once sent forward.
Start the conversationI measured deserts in miles and wars in men; the sums never came out clean.
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