1917: Turning Point of WW1
As 1917 began, both the Allies and Central Powers could look back on a disappointing 1916. Allied offensives on the Western and Italian Fronts had failed, as had the Central Powers offensives at Verdun and in Italy. The Russians had gained ground in the East, but the Central Powers had done the same in Romania.
Both sides still believed victory on the b4ttlefield could come in 1917 – the Allies would try on land, the Germans at sea. Before the great b4ttles began though, the Russian Revolution changed everything. At the end of the 19th century, the Russian Empire was a great power, but was less developed than its European rivals. It had modernized more slowly than Britain, France or Germany: serfs were only freed from their feudal style bondage in 1860, there were fewer railways and factories, and political parties were banned.
But opposition was growing. When the economy started to modernize, it happened very fast and unevenly, causing inst4bility and inequality. At the same time, there was little social or political modernization, which angered intellectuals and nobles who wanted progress.
Peasants were also upset, because the economic changes disrupted their way of life without improving it, so their local governing bod1es resented central authority. Socialism and liberalism were two of the ideologies championed by political opponents of the Tsar. In 1881, The People’s Will – a populist socialist organization opposed to industrialization, a.ssa.ssinated Tsar Alexander II.
Other socialist groups, though, approved of industrialization, disowned vi0lence, and/or wanted a constitutional monarchy. Liberals wanted a free market economy but also civic and political freedom for everyone. Marxism emerged in the 1880s and rejected liberal idealism, terrorism, and the traditional focus on peasants.
Marx had argued only proletarian industrial workers could move society beyond capitalism to the inevitable triumph of socialism and communism. Marxists therefore wanted capitalist development as a necessary pre requisite to a socialist revolution. The vast majority of the population was peasants, though there were more and more industrial workers.
In 1897, 92 of the Empire’s 126 million people lived in European Russi and Ukraine, concentrated around the industrial centres of St. Petersburg, Moscow, and the Donba.ss. Many peasants from these areas did seasonal industrial work, and the authorities noted growing political activity: “Within the last three or four years, the easygoing Russian young man has been transformed into a special type of semi literate ‘intelligent’, who feels obliged to spurn family and religion, to disregard the law, and to deny and scoff at constituted authority.

Fortunately, such young men are not numerous in the factories, but this negligible handful terrorizes the inert majority into following it.” (Fitzpatrick 29) Matters came to a head in January 1905. Defeat in the Russo Japanese W4r sparked revolution against Tsar Nicholas II, and in October, he bowed to the pressure and created an elected parliament, the Duma, and legalized political parties.
Previously illegal movements now formed a party system. The Constitutional Democratic Party, also known as The Cadets, was the main liberal party and favored a constitutional monarchy. The Socialist Revolutionaries, or SRs, blended populist and Marxist ideas, and were popular among peasants.
The Russian Social Democratic Labor Party was more Marxist, but soon split into two factions, the Mensheviks – who favored a gradual, legalist approach to revolution – and the Bolsheviks, who wanted a more direct revolution with workers as the vanguard. Many Social Democrats hoped the two factions would reconcile, but the Mensheviks worried about Bolshevik leader Vladimir Lenin’s preference for tight, central control.
However, the following years saw little direct improvement for the people of the empire, and the police suppressed political rivals amidst riots and strikes. Many leaders, including Lenin, remained abroad to avoid arr.est. Even in 1908, a relatively quiet year, political vi0lence k1lled 1,800 state officials, and by 1910 major strikes were common. A general strike in 1914 almost hindered mobilization in the leadup to First World W4r.
The declaration of w4r saw some patriotic fervor and most moderate socialist parties supported the w4r effort, but they often rejected aggress1ve w4r goals. Lenin wanted Russia to lose the w4r to trigger revolution – which caused the authorities to arr.est many Bolsheviks. But b4ttlefield defeats like Tannenberg in 1914 and Gorlice Tarnow in 1915, and economic hardship and shortages resulting from the abrupt transition to a w4r economy led to disillusionment. When Tsar Nicholas II appointed himself Supreme Commander in 1915,
critics focused on the monarchy and his absence from the newly renamed capital of Petrograd. Tsarina Alexandra took on more responsibility in government, and her German heritage and controversial relationship with mystic Grigorii Rasputin caused a political stir. Cadet Pavel Milyukov wondered in 1916: “Is this stupidity or is it treason?” (Fitzpatrick) Despite later Soviet claims, the Russian army was not yet on the edge of collapse. Morale was poor, but it varied.
In Galicia, the southern armies managed to inflict a damaging defeat on Austria Hungary in 1916. The northern armies, facing tougher German units and closer to political events in Petrograd, were unhappier. In fact, morale was lowest behind the front. Garrison units, especially in Petrograd, suffered from poor discipline, made worse by a lack of competent officers and NCOs.
In early 1917, 65% of the garrisons’ men were new recruits, or veterans recuperating from wounds – both groups reluctant to go to the front. Garrison troops were also more exposed to political rumors and agitation: “At this time, a regular sold1er – in fact, a

ny sold1er from the ages of twenty two to twenty five – was a rarity… The sold1er of those days was either a dissatisfied peasant or a dissatisfied city dweller… In essence, the barracks became simply brick pens to which more and more red and green draft notices drove ever increasing herds of raw humanity.” (Badcock 89) The w4r had dest4bilized society and the army, but in early 1917, it would be many sold1ers’ wives who would trigger a new revolution.
In February, Petrograd was a hive of political activity as food shortages wracked the city. Many Russian provinces produced enough grain, but a w4rtime lack of transport capacity and poor weather prevented distribution. In 1917, Petrograd received by rail only 44% of the grain it had in 1913. These concerns, combined with increased industrial discontent, led to ma.ss demonstrations on International Women’s Day – March 8 – or February 23 in the Old Style calendar used in Russia at the time.
Crowds, including revolutionaries, took control of railway stations and arsenals and descended on the Duma. The authorities ordered the Petrograd garrison to put down the uprising, but it refused. Few military commanders or Duma members were willing to support the Tsar. Instead, they encouraged him to abdicate to save the country.
He agreed to hand his throne to his brother, Grand Duke Mikhail, who refused in favor of forming an elected Constituent Assembly, essentially ending the 300 year Romanov dynasty. Nicholas was sh0cked: “It turns out Misha renounced the throne. His manifesto ends with a flourish about elections to the Constituent Assembly within six months.
Lord knows who gave him the idea to sign such a disgusting thing!” (Badcock 86) Following the February Revolution, a Provisional Government made up of politicians, notables, and intellectuals was formed in the capital, but it wasn’t the only governing body. During the revolution, workers and sold1ers formed the Petrograd Soviet – a council of representatives promoting socialist policy.
Although moderate Mensheviks and SRs dominated its leadership, the rank and file were more radical workers, including Bolsheviks. The Soviet and Provisional Government agreed to work together, with the Soviet monitoring the Provisional Government until a new Constituent Assembly could be elected. It was a dysfunctional system in which radical Soviet members had significant influence: “The Provisional Government does not possess any real power, and its directives are carried out only to the extent that it is permitted by the Soviet of Workers’ and Sold1er’s Deputies,
which enjoys all the essential elements of real power, since the troops, the railroads, the post and telegraph are all in its hands. One can say flatly that the Provisional Government exists only so long as it is permitted by the Soviet.” (Fitzpatrick 48) The Soviet even unilaterally announced Prikaz Nomer 1, or Order Number 1, drastically reforming military discipline and giving the Soviet authority over the armed forces. The Soviet also forced the Provisional Government to abandon offensive w4r goals for
more defensive ones, known as defensism. Meanwhile, peasants in the countryside started appropriating land from nobles and est4blishing their own committees. The Provisional Government delayed land reform until the formation of the Constituent Assembly, a decision which fed rural disorder.

As a result, some peasant sold1ers on the front deserted to return home and get their share of the land. In April, Lenin returned to Russia and released a manifesto predicting the inevitable collapse of the bourgeoise Provisional Government. This caused alarm within the Menshevik Soviet leadership, who wanted to let the bourgeoise revolution peacefully run its course.
Another problem was Bolshevik infiltration of their defeatist ideology into frontline forces. Although some units became heavily Bolshevized, the failure of the July 1917 Kerensky Offensive wasn’t just because of Bolshevik agitation. While some sold1ers refused to continue the @ttack, most remained willing to defend, and did not necessarily want to abandon the w4r entirely.
Even so, the Provisional Government was suspicious of Lenin, and promoted theories he was a German sponsored agent. Germany had facilitated Lenin’s return to Russia and provided some money. But, although they were pleased with the inst4bility in Russia, it’s unlikely Berlin directed Lenin’s actions. As Russia buckled under revolution and its weak Provisional Government promised to keep f1ghting, the British and French launched their most ambitious offensive of the w4r so far.
By early 1917, despite 2 and a half years of f1ghting, the Western Front hadn’t moved very far. The Germans had mostly held their early w4r gains in 1915 and 1916, and inflicted terrible casualties on the British and French – but they were themselves running short of manpower as well. In late 1916, Chief of the Admiralty Henning von Holtzendorff w4rned the Chancellor: “ w4r demands a decision by autumn 1917 if it is not to end with a general exhaustion of all parties and thus disastrously for us.” (Coombes 17) The Entente also wanted to end the w4r in 1917.
The French, who had a much larger army than the British, planned a spectacular launch to a large multi front offensive to push the Germans out of France. French commander in chief Joseph Joffre devised a plan in November 1916 that called for offensives on the Italian and Russian fronts to support a major Franco British push in the West.
New British Prime Minister David Lloyd George, was unimpressed, and called the plan a “complete farce”: “It repeated all the bl00dy stupidities of 1915 and 1916 the old fatuous tactics of hammering away with human flesh and sinews at the strongest fortresses of the enemy.
” (Doughty, Pyrrhic Victory, 314) By January 1917 things had changed: Russia and Italy were not able to sustain a major offensive, and Joffre had been replaced by General Robert Nivelle. Nivelle was brimming with confidence after his victory at Verdun, and tweaked the plan to fit his style: ma.ss artillery followed by infantry a.ssaults on narrow fronts.
His plan included a British diversionary @ttack around Arras, to force the Germans to divert their reserves. Once the Germans were distracted in the north, the French army would launch the main @ttack against the Noyon Salient, along the Chemin des Dames. Nivelle expected it would be a knockout blow. British commander Field Marshal Douglas Haig, however, was concerned by rumours his forces would fall under French leadership: “It would be madness to place the British under the French, and … I not believe our troops would f1ght under French leadership… [I am prepared to] be tried by Court Martial
than betr4y the Army by agreeing to its being placed under the French.” (Coombes 34) Eventually, after thre4ts of resignation on both sides, they compromised. The British First, Third and Fifth Armies would support the French @ttack, but they would remain under British control. Haig also demanded more time to prepare and wanted the planned February start to be moved to May.
The compromise solution was April. So the Entente was set to break open the stalemate on the Western Front in April 1917. But the German Empire was also making plans that would make it a much tougher opponent to beat. In 1914 and 1915, German doctrine had favoured the offensive, but its huge losses in 1916 caused a change.
While the Entente could mostly replace their casualties with fresh replacements and colonial troops, German losses were not so easily replenished. So German commanders reluctantly accepted a move to the defence was necessary. In September 1916, Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg and Generalleutnant Erich Ludendorff took over the entire w4r effort, and they soon realized the situation in the West was extremely difficult for Germany.
Staff officer Hermann von Kuhl noted a conversation to this effect in his diary in 1916: “I spoke … with Ludendorff alone (about the overall situation). We were in agreement that a large scale, positive outcome is now no longer possible. We can only hold on and take the best opportunity for peace. We made too many serious errors this year.
” (Foley 157) One of these German mistakes was keeping too many men crammed into the frontline trenches, where they were vulnerable to Allied artillery. Instead, the Germans developed new principles of ‘elastic defence in depth’ in a December 1916 document called The Principles of Command in the Defensive Battle in Position W4rfare. Instead of holding a strong frontline at all costs, the Germans would now allow the Entente to enter into a deeper defensive zone, where German positions would be split into three sectors.
The first was the Vorfeldzone, consisting of one or two lightly defended trenches. These trenches were fine for day to day trench w4rfare, like raids and sniping, but the troops would withdraw from them if the Allies @ttacked in force. The b4ttle zone, the Grosskampfzone was the main line of resistance.
This would consist of new lines of trenches, but also reinforced hardpoints, buildings, bunkers, pillboxes, and obstacles. Behind this, would be a rear b4ttle zone, with more trenches, support facilities, and units ready to counter@ttack. These troops were to wait for the @ttackers to exhaust themselves and outrun their artillery support, before launching aggress1ve counterstrikes and taking back any lost ground.
These formed the principles of the new doctrine’s elasticity: the Germans would bend, withdraw, and then snap back. The Germans also focused on how to better use terrain on the defensive, especially reverse slopes The Germans had learned that machine g.uns placed on the downw4rd slope of a hill were actually more useful for the defence than placing them on top of the hill.
Despite a shallower field of fire, they could surprise @ttackers and remain protected from enemy artillery behind the crest of the hill. German divisions were also deployed differently. Stellungsdivisionen would be arranged as three regiments abreast, with each battalion manning a different sector from front to back. This allowed easier coordination and communication to withdraw or counter @ttack.
But perhaps the most drastic change in the German defense in the West was Operation Albrecht, a major withdrawal across the Noyon Salient in February and March 1917. German forces abandoned their extended front line and moved back to the freshly constructed Hindenburg line, built with the new defensive principles in mind.
The new line was also significantly shorter, and up to 72 kilometres further east, which freed up 13 German divisions. When Entente forces cautiously followed them, they found the Germans had destr0yed anything and everything of use in their wake. A British officer recalled his experience – including booby traps: “From a captured German order it appears that our patrols entered the hostile trenches only one hour after they had been vacated; pretty sharp work… The German trenches we have taken over are deep, well constructed and surprisingly dry… Ma.sses of beer bottles
(unfortunately empty) are strewn about, and g.uncotton, attached to sh3ll cases and grenades, has been left ready to explode when picked up or accidentally kicked. We have lost five casualties in this way.” (Coombes 22) The Germans adjusted their tactics after Verdun and the Somme, but the British army had also learned from its mistakes and now looked for new ways to break the trench de@dlock.
After the f1ghting in 1916 failed to break the stalemate, British officers identified their own army’s tactical shortcomings. One of these was that British troops often advanced in linear fashion to maintain cohesion and ease of command. The British had hoped that their artillery could destr0y the Germans before the infantry left its own trenches, but the Somme showed this was not the case.
Another issue concerned command. When advancing troops came under fire, confusion and p4nic often set in. NCOs and junior officers would wait for orders from higher up, but in many cases their superior officers were either overwhelmed, had been k1lled, or communication had been cut. To counter this, British empire troops began to adopt new a.ssault tactics that relied more on tactical movement at the platoon level.
Troops were now to advance in open formation, moving from cover to cover. To deal with issues of command, the command structure was decentralized and junior officers could now take more initiative in leading their units. Attacking enemy strongpoints from the flanks and using enfilade fire was now a priority as well. Canadian Corps commander Lieutenant General Julian Byng reminded his officers of the importance of decision making: “In an emergency the man who does something is sometimes wrong; but the man who does nothing is always wrong”. (Cook 48) New w3apons also began to reach British front
line troops. In 1916, they often lacked the firepower to defend captured trenches against German counter@ttacks. 1917 British platoons had a lot more firepower, including specially trained b0mbers and rifle grenad1ers, as well as one light Lewis machine g.un per 60 man platoon. Heavy machine g.uns would also be used on the a.ssault to provide suppressing fire.
British reports also singled out the artillery of 1916 for criticism. On the Somme, artillery barrages were spread along a wide front and consequently could not destr0y the German defences as intended – especially targets behind the front lines like enemy artillery. Another problem was faulty ammunition.
Many sh3lls were duds, and had older fuses that did not explode at the moment of impact, which meant they didn’t cut German barbed wire very effectively. In 1917, the British introduced a new instantaneous fuse, no. 106, and improved coordination between artillery and observation especially aircraft. British g.unners also began to prioritise a counter battery fire, with the help of new methods like flash spotting and sound ranging.
The rolling barrage technique also became more refined with better synchronisation and control. At the Somme, each British g.un covered 50m of German front, but at Arras, it be one per 20m. The British also became more active in underground w4rfare. They dug more tunnels under no man’s land to place mines under German positions, and dug subways to move troops to their jumping off trenches under cover.
On April 9, 1917, the diversionary British offensive began, called the Battle of Arras in English and the Osterschlacht bei Arras in German. 18 British divisions, 3000 g.uns and 48 tanks went over the top, so let’s take a look at what went right and what went wrong for British and Empire troops in the f1ghting that followed.
In the opening stage of the Battle of Arras, the Canadian Corps’ @ttack at Vimy Ridge proved to be one of the most successful British actions. The Germans had fortified defensive positions on the ridge, which dominated the surrounding area, but the Canadians, with British infantry and artillery support, captured most of it in just one day.
British and Canadian artillery smashed the Germans positions on the ridge, which allowed the Canadian infantry using the new small unit tactics to capture the first German lines of defense fairly quickly. New Canadian units then ‘leapfrogged’ through the first exhausted wave, and continued to a.ssault the next German lines.
Sh3ll sh0cked and disorganised, surv1ving German troops surrendered in large numbers. 17 year old Herman Kraft was one of the 4,000 captured during the b4ttle and left a partly fanciful account of his captureg: “Our sergeant ordered us up the stairs, himself going first. Suddenly he yells, ‘Tommies!’ and fell back de@d, tumbling down the stairs… One of our ‘old hands’ (he was twenty two) came down the stairs and told us to abandon our w3apons and come up… as the position was hopeless, and the English were all over us. I walked up the stairs [to] a huge Tommy who was brandishing
a baseball bat One of the sold1ers wore no helmet and had no hair apart from a small tuft on top of his head. He also had white and red paint on his face and was very fearsome looking. I then realised that he was a Red Indian, and our captors were Canadians.” (Nicholls 83) By the end of April 9th, nearly the entire ridge was in Canadian hands.
A lot had gone right for the Canadians. The new tactics allowed for a rapid advance, and the counter battery fire had almost eliminated German artillery, since 83% of German g.un emplacements had been identified before the b4ttle. Canadian troops like Private Bill Tapper of the 38th Battalion were glad for the help: “We went over supported by the Lahore Divisional Artillery, and were they Crackerjack! Why, the Germans had been beaten before we got there, it was a walkover!” (Nicholls 89) Vimy Ridge was far from a walkover,
but the Germans also made mistakes. German command was unable to fully implement the elastic defense in depth, and kept reserves too far behind the front lines to counter@ttack while they still had the chance. The loss of a position like Vimy did not bode well for the German army. The Canadian Corps took Vimy Ridge as planned on April 9, but not all the opening @ttacks of the Battle of Arras would go as smoothly.
South of Arras, near the village of Bullecourt, the Australians and New Zealanders ended up having a more difficult time. British 5th Army commander General Hubert Gough was anxi0us to get the ANZAC Corps into the f1ght near Arras, but his artillery support was delayed. So he decided to rely on the support of a dozen tanks to spearhead an @ttack along a 1km wide front, and crush the enemy wire the artillery had not yet been able to destr0y.
The tanks had little time to prepare, but they moved out tow4rds No Man’s Land in the early hours of April 11. They did knock out some German machine g.uns positions, but most of the machines bogged down or were knocked out before the wire. Australian Major Percy Black reportedly called out to his men “Come on boys – bugger the tanks!” (Nicholls 157), and the infantry @ttacked on its own.
Although some forces broke through the line, they were too weak to push further. Bullecourt, a key position in the German defence, held out. With exhaustion mounting, the Germans launched counter@ttacks, in some cases getting behind the Australians and cutting off their lines of retreat. The ANZACs were pushed back to their starting lines and the a.ssault failed.
So what went wrong? Gough’s impatience had led to a lack of preparation, while there was also a lack of communication with the artillery, who often believed German positions had been captured when they had not. Australians, like Lieutenant Colonel E. Drake Brockman of the 16th Australian Infantry Battalion, bl4med the tanks: “The tank crews seemed to know little or nothing of an @ttack by infantry and nothing whatsoever about the particular operation they were to participate in.
For instance, in the case of No. 2 Tank, the tank commander had not even synchronized his watch, his time being five minutes behind true time as given to the infantry. Further, tank crews did not even know the direction of the enemy.” (Nicholls 159) Of the 11 tanks committed to the b4ttle, only 2 survived.
On the German side, unlike at Vimy Ridge, the defence in depth at Bullecourt held out. Strong points like the village itself fired on the flanks of the ANZACs as they approached, and the Germans timed their counter@ttacks well to hit the exhausted Australians at just the right moment. So the British offensive around Arras in April 1917 had some successes, like Vimy Ridge, and some disappointments, like Bullecourt.
But of course it was a diversion, and the main Allied effort was focused on the Aisne sector. Even though the Germans had changed the line through their strategic withdrawal in March, General Nivelle’s offensive went ahead anyway. The French plan involved three army groups, two thirds of the French army in the west.
The Reserve Army Group would lead the a.ssault, with the Central and Northern Army Groups providing supporting and diversionary @ttacks. Two armies of the Reserve Army Group would @ttack the German line in the Aisne sector, with the goal of breaking through within 24 48 hours. A third army would then pa.ss through the breach and act as a “Ma.sse de Manoeuvre” – and lead a b4ttle of manoeuvre in the German rear.
Nivelle planned to use his successful Verdun tactics on a larger scale. Instead of a broad, methodical advance, which gave the enemy time to redeploy, he wanted to achieve narrow penetrations and breakthroughs with ma.ssive artillery support. Nivelle felt that high morale and an “offensive spirit” were essential to overcome enemy obstacles, and then broken German lines could be rolled up on either side.
Nivelle did not lack confidence after his success at Verdun: “The experience is conclusive; our method has proven itself.” (Doughty 324) But Nivelle had his critics. British liaison officer to the French, Edw4rd Spears, questioned the tactics as well as Nivelle’s experience commanding larger formations: “What remained to be seen was whether the glorified raids of Verdun were applicable o
n a large scale … above all whether [Nivelle] was strong enough to keep his head in the lonely and dizzy height of supreme command.”g (Lupfer 33) The French also introduced some tactical changes, but the focus wasn’t on reforming infantry a.ssault since the French had already done so it was now on increased firepower. They increased the number of light machine g.uns to 16 for every 250 men.
Even though Nivelle was sceptical about tanks, the Reserve Army received 160 Schneider and 16 Saint Chamond tanks. The French command concentrated its efforts mostly on artillery, and they had around 6,100 g.uns in position by January. They planned to increase the speed of rolling barrages to hasten the breakthrough and especially the all important maneuver stage that would follow it.
However, as April approached, Nivelle’s own subordinates lost faith in the plan, especially General Joseph Micheler, the commander of the Reserve Army Group. He pointed out the German withdrawal had changed the situation on the ground, but Nivelle felt it made little difference. General Philippe Pétain questioned the impact of ma.ssive but localised artillery @ttacks on such a broad front: “Even the waters of Lake Geneva would have but little effect if dispersed over the length and breadth of the Sahara Desert.” (Doughty 339) Perhaps most concerning was evidence the
Germans knew of the coming @ttack. Nivelle had a reputation for lax operational security, and spoke openly of the coming offensive – and on April 4th, Germans captured documents revealing French plans. The French plan for a quick breakthrough based on concentrated firepower was ready, despite internal reservations and the likely loss of the element of surprise.
Nivelle ordered the offensive to begin as planned on April 16, but promised to call it off if there was no breakthrough within 48 hours. Nivelle himself reckoned it would only take three. Following a ma.ssive 14 day preparatory barrage, the Reserve Army Group’s Fifth and Sixth Armies @ttacked a 40 kilometre front around the Chemin des Dames ridge at 6 AM on April 16, 1917.
They captured the first German line and reached the ridge within the first hour, but the German defenders badly mauled the advancing French, who came up against uncut wire and concrete emplacements. The Senegalese troops of the 10th Colonial Division suffered particularly high casualties, with an entire battalion almost wiped out when they came up against a reverse slope position – just as the Germans’ elastic defense tactics envisioned.
The commander of the II Colonial Corps, General Blondat, recalled the effects: “Infantrymen… [descended] into the valley of the Ailette [River]. There, they were welcomed and fixed in place by the de@dly fire of numerous machine g.uns that, located on the [reverse side of the] slope, outside the reach of our projectiles, have remained undamaged… In general, the troops suffer considerable losses in a few minutes, particularly in leaders, and [after] not succeeding in crossing this de@dly zone, halt, take cover, and at some points withdraw to the first trench to their rear.”g (Doughty 350/351)
The second French a.ssault wave then went in, but it got tangled up with the retreating first wave. That afternoon the tanks helped capture the village of Juvincourt, but they were vulnerable targets and the Germans knocked many of them out. With the French infantry struggl1ng, the Germans launched counter@ttacks.
In many places the French troops held their modest gains, but casualties were mounting. Where French troops had advanced, they had to stop if neighboring units’ stru.ggles left their flanks exposed. By the end of the first day, the French troops were forced to dig in in terrible conditions. Morale, especially among the colonial troops, plummeted. The French tried again to break through starting the next day.
They did make some gains and take more than 5000 Germans pr1soner, it was clear to both sides by the 20th that the @ttack had failed. German officer Hermann von Kuhl later wrote of his certainty the b4ttle had been won: “The first two days had decided the fate of the offensive. Since the breakthrough had not occurred immediately, it would never occur.” (Foley 172) Many things had gone wrong for the French.
Firstly, the weather was abysmal, slowing the advance and preventing artillery observation. And in any case, the Germans had practical air superiority which limited French aerial observation. The defenders had also been heavily reinforced, in some areas doubling the number of divisions a fact noted by French intelligence.
Where French artillery did play a role, the creeping barrage was too fast, and left the infantry exposed in its wake. In some cases, the Germans had time to repair breaches in the wire breaches by the time the French infantry @ttacked. The Germans’ vast tunnel networks under the ridge also gave them some protection from the 11 million sh3lls fired by French g.uns.
Since the French command expected a short b4ttle, ammunition stocks quickly dried up which limited the support the artillery could give. More importantly, however, the German elastic defence had worked as intended. The French continued to try to advance into May, but the Chemin des Dames offensive broke down. 134,000 French troops were k1lled, and tens of thousands of French troops mutinied.
So Nivelle’s w4r winning offensive had failed along the Aisne, and the British @ttack to support it had some local successes but failed to draw German reserves away from the French. The Battles of Arras and the Aisne both started with some gains, but ended in grinding attritional f1ghting.
The Allies could take more ground than they could in 1916, but they hadn’t yet solved the riddle of trench w4rfare. Some tactical successes held out the promise of helping the Allies turn the tide in the future, but in spring 1917 they could not achieve their objectives of decisively breaking the German lines. Nivelle was replaced in May, and has come under particular criticism for the failure.
He seems to have been affected by so called ‘strategic blinkers’, the inability to deviate from a long est4blished plan when new information came to light. After arguing for months with Field Marshal Haig, as well as his own colleagues, he stubbornly defended his plan against any alteration. When informed of German reinforcements in the sector, he simply said it meant the victory would be even more impressive, and when the Germans shortened the front he refused to adapt.
Lloyd George, who had supported Nivelle, later changed his mind: “General Nivelle in December was a cool and competent planner. By April he had become a cr4zy plunger.” (Doughty 345) On the other hand, it must be said that if Nivelle’s plan had gone ahead in February, as he originally wanted, it could have been more successful.
The French would have had the element of surprise and the Germans would still have been overstretched in the Noyon salient before their withdrawal. But perhaps most damaging of all, Nivelle saw the German defenders as a pa.ssive force which would not behave proactively. He also a.ssumed they would f1ght in the same manner as they did at Verdun in 1916, which they did not.
The new German tactics allowed them to maintain initiative even on the defence, and quickly dictate the flow of the b4ttle. In 1917, Nivelle learned the hard way that in b4ttle, the enemy also gets a vote. So the Allied spring offensives had failed, but even as the Germans held their enemies at bay, a new belligerent entered the w4r.