domingo, 28 de setembro de 2014

Trench warfare

WHEN WERE THE TRENCHES IN WORLD WAR I FIRST BUILT?

After the Battle of the Marne in September 1914 (one month after the war truly began), the Germans were pushed back to the River Aisne. The German commander, General Erich von Falkenhayn, assessed the situation. Not wanting to lose the territory in France and Belgium Germany had gained, he ordered his army to dig trenches to defend against French and British troops. The trenches provided necessary protection from artillery shells and machine guns, and gave soldiers a major advantage when warding off a frontal assault. Realizing that they could not break through these trenches, the British and French soon began digging their own.

Over the next few months the equally-matched armies tried to outflank each other, continuously adding on to their trenches as they went. This "race to the sea" ended with two parallel trench lines running from the North Sea all the way to the border of Switzerland. If all of the trenches constructed during World War I were laid end to end, they would cover 25,000 miles.

Because the Germans dug in first, they were able to seize the high ground. This not only gave them a tactical advantage, it also kept them much drier than the British and French, who were forced to dig in areas that were typically only 2 to 3 feet above sea level. This led to frequent flooding and an almost constant presence of water in Allied trenches.

HOW WERE THE TRENCHES CONSTRUCTED?

There were two main ways to dig a trench. There was entrenchment, which was the faster method, allowing many soldiers equipped with shovels and picks to dig a large portion of trench at once. However, this left the diggers exposed to all of the dangers that the trenches were supposed to protect against. So entrenchment had to take place either in a rear area where diggers were not as vulnerable, or at night. British guidelines for trench construction inform us that it took 450 men approximately 6 hours to dig 275 yards of a front-line trench (approx. 7 feet deep, 6 feet wide) a night.

The other option was sapping, where a trench was extended by digging at the end face. It was a much safer route, but took more time, as only one or two men could fit in the area to dig.

These trenches were dug through the beautiful countryside of France, and often through private property, particularly that of farmers. Private Victor Wheeler, a Canadian soldier, described his experience when digging one of the first Allied trenches:

With pick and shovel we dug trenches through beautiful fields of grain, fully realising what damage we were doing to the farmers' hopes of reaping small harvests that would enable them to stem hunger during the coming winter. The patriarch with his ox-drawn plough, the matronly gleaner, and the young woman gathering grass and leaves, roots and truffles, stood arms akimbo, wordlessly, helplessly, hopelessly watching. The depressing effect on the morale of the men - to many of whom raising grain on the Western prairie also meant their livelihood - could not be easily dismissed.

After a trench was constructed, sandbags, wire mesh, and wooden frames would be brought in to reinforce the walls. Wooden planking, referred to as duckboards, were also put in place to prevent men from standing in water, which often led to an ailment known as "trench foot." Shell fire and the weather made constant maintenance a necessity.

HOW WERE THE TRENCHES LAID OUT?

Trenches were never built in straight lines but instead in a zigzag pattern. This method was used so that if the enemy invaded a trench, they would be prevented from firing down its entire length, as well as providing some buffer in the event a shell were to explode.

Multiple trenches were created on either side of No Man's Land. The front-line trench was exactly as it sounded - it was the first line of defense. Sandbags placed at the opening of the trenches were particularly important here, as they also absorbed bullets that might otherwise hit soldiers. Fire-steps were built into the sides and allowed soldiers to see over with their rifles at the ready when on sentry duty or when an enemy attack was anticipated.

Front-line trenches also had appendages called "saps," which were dug out into No Man's Land and used as listening posts to find out information about the enemy.

Behind the front-line trench was the support trench. As its name implies, it held support troops and supplies to aid the front-line trench soldiers when necessary. It also could be used as a fall back point if the enemy occupied the front-line trench. Dugouts were typically built in the rear of the support trench, varying in size between 8 to 16 feet for the British.

Beyond the support trench was the reserve trench, which held emergency supplies and troops, in the event the first two failed.

All three of these trenches were connected by communication trenches, which allowed men and supplies to travel safely back and forth. This is also where telephone lines could be run.

A soldier did not spend the allof his time in any given trench. A typical British soldier spent 15% of his year on the front line, 10% on the support line, 30% on the reserve line, and the rest of his time would be spent either on rest, on leave, in the hospital, etc.

GERMAN TRENCHES

Unlike the British and French trenches, German trenches were much more elaborate in construction. This was due to the defensive strategy of their army. The above photograph is an excellent illustration of this: the German trenches are located to the right, the British to the left.

German bunkers were also more sophisticated. Unlike the shallower dugouts of the British, German dugouts were typically 12 feet or more in depth, and were sometimes constructed three stories down, complete with concrete stairs. German dugouts also typically had electricity, as well as toilets (luxuries that were not found in Allied trenches).

SIGNIFICANCE

It soon became obvious to both sides that this would be a war of attrition. Who could outlast the other with men and supplies? Trench warfare created a stalemate that prolonged the conflict well past what either side originally imagined. It would take the implementation of new tactics and technology to finally propel the war to its conclusion.


Fonte:
http://dianaoverbey.wordpress.com/2012/01/13/trench-construction-in-world-war-i

domingo, 21 de setembro de 2014

We must do more than remember

THE DAILY TELEGRAPH
11 January 2013

First World War anniversary: we must do more than remember

Breaking ranks with the Government's centenary advisory board, Hew Strachan argues that our commemoration of World War One is in danger of becoming sterile and boring.

(Hew Strachan)

The centenary of the outbreak of the First World War is only 20 months away. The clouds of the media blizzard are forming. Publishers have planned their lists - many hoping to pre-empt the market by bringing out books this year. The theme of much of this, as it was of the Prime Minister's announcement on October 11, 2012 of his plans for the centenary, is remembrance.

So what is it we are going to "remember"? There is no veteran of the war alive today. Anybody who claims that they can remember the war was only an infant at the time and is now very, very old. Many can remember veterans remembering (or not, because many of them were reluctant to talk). Their memories were coloured and shaped by the intervening years, including the knowledge of the Second World War, and some of their reminiscences could be a misleading guide to their feelings at the time. What we also "remember" is the familiarity of Remembrance Sunday, of poppies and the Cenotaph, the symbols through which the First World War is still most commonly refracted today.

The centenary of the First World War must not be Remembrance Sunday writ large. We have few precedents with which to approach this landmark, which will not be a single event but will last more than four years. If it simply reworks the familiar themes of remembrance, it will be repetitive, sterile and possibly even boring. If we do not emerge at the end of the process in 2018 with fresh perspectives, we shall have failed.

We need a sense of progression through this war: perhaps different themes for different years. We also need to recognise the degree to which this war shaped our thinking about all war: our notions of when it is right to fight and when not, of warfare as simultaneously necessary and wasteful. Indeed, those very dilemmas are to be found in how our predecessors elected to interpret its conclusion - both victory, as marked by Armistice Day, and mourning, as marked by Remembrance Sunday.

In the 1920s those who had experienced the war kept those rituals separate precisely because they recognised that the forces that underpinned each of them also created tensions. We shall confront the same problem in 2018. So how we commemorate the beginning of the war must reflect a quest rather than pre-empt the answers - just as those who went to war in 1914 did not know what they faced, did not know when or if they would come back home, and were not sure of their own courage.

In fact, the vast majority of those who donned a uniform did return. Over six million served in the British Armed Forces, and roughly 722,000 (though estimates vary) or 12 per cent died. It was more dangerous to be a Grimsby trawlerman who swept mines in the North Sea than to be in the Army. The same percentage died in the (admittedly longer) Napoleonic wars, which were celebrated as a national triumph. Most people did not lose an immediate family member. This is not to trivialise the immense losses that Britain incurred, or the long-term suffering of many survivors. But it does mean that visiting war graves or refurbishing village war memorials neglects the majority of our forefathers, let alone foremothers, who may have supported the war effort in other ways, through munitions and food production, charitable work and refugee relief.

The iconic war memorials are not those that mark the British landscape but those that occupy the battlefields. In November, the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, the body charged with their care, undertook a survey of public opinion on the centenary. Nearly nine out of 10 of the British public, and even four out of five of the age cohort 18 to 24, feel that we should mark it. However, only one in five feels that there is sufficient awareness of the contribution of the other Commonwealth countries to the war.

For Britain, this is a crucial challenge, both psychologically and politically: we find it very difficult to elevate our gaze from our parochial preoccupations with the mud of the Western Front. The Prime Minister announced the Government's plans at the Imperial War Museum, an institution founded, as the commission was, in 1917. Both titles (and in the latter's case its funding) make it clear that Britain fought this war as a global empire.

Britain will have to coordinate what it does not only with Australia, New Zealand and Canada, which established their national identities on the battlefields of Gallipoli or France, but also with other Commonwealth members whose legacy is more ambivalent. For South Africa, the sinking in 1917 of the SS Mendi, which resulted in the deaths of 616 members of the South African Native Labour Corps, is now more important than the 80 per cent casualties (of whom 547 died) of the white 1st South African Brigade at Delville Wood on the Somme in 1916. India raised over a million men for military service, and they fought in France and Flanders, at Gallipoli, in East Africa, and in Iraq and Palestine, but their legacy today is also carried by Pakistan and Bangladesh, as well as by the Gurkhas who serve in the British Army.

This is going to be a worldwide commemoration. We are fond of stressing that we live in a globalised and interconnected world. So did our ancestors in 1914. Their system, erected by the banks and built on the convertibility of the gold standard and on the City of London, was broken first by conflict and then by the slump of 1929. Globalisation may be back on the agenda, but we still live with the war's consequences, not just in the Middle East, but also in its introduction of the United States as a global power and in its contribution to the long-term relative decline of Europe.

Paradoxically, although the public is almost unanimous that the country should commemorate the war, it is much less sure what that war was about, only six out of 10 people feeling that they have sufficient knowledge of it, with that number falling with reducing age.

So the big challenge is not the principle of commemoration but the practice of education. The Imperial War Museum and the Commonwealth War Graves Commission have anticipated this. The former is developing new First World War galleries, not least thanks to the additional money announced by the Prime Minister in October, and is creating an online presence that embraces other institutions. The commission, by enhancing its provision of onsite information, is addressing the fact that visitors now come to be informed rather than to mourn.

It is not the job of these institutions or of the Government to impose interpretations on a war dogged by controversy. For some, this will always be a futile and wasteful war, despite the convictions of many who fought that it was not. For their opponents, the British Army achieved the decisive victory over the main enemy in the main theatre of the war. Those in the middle argue that this victory was also the achievement of Britain's allies: France's losses were double ours, and by the war's end the largest army on the Western Front was that of the US. The commander of the German army, General Erich Ludendorff, believed the war was lost when the Balkan Front collapsed.

It is the institutions' task to provide the framework within which these debates enhance knowledge and understanding - both of the First World War and of war more generally. The only other significant tranche of new government money contained in the Prime Minister's announcement was £5 million to enable selected school pupils in England to visit the Western Front. Many already do so, and it is hard to see how this funding is going to change much, not least when it is not extended to the rest of the United Kingdom and given that it will be exhausted by 2019. The major challenge is to produce an educational legacy that lasts and is more pervasive, originating in the classroom and stimulated by big and new ideas. The plans for the centenary are still conceptually empty.


Fonte:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/First-World-War-anniversary-we-must-do-more-than-remember.html

Mais:
http://docs.google.com/file/d/0BxwrrqPyqsnISVVzOFV6cnhsLWM
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/history/world-war-one/inside-first-world-war

domingo, 14 de setembro de 2014

Marne

AVENTURAS NA HISTÓRIA
1 de março de 2013

Táxis a serviço do exército francês na Primeira Guerra Mundial

Numa manobra improvável, um general francês requisitou os táxis de Paris para levar soldados ao front. A ação salvou a cidade de uma invasão na Primeira Guerra.

(Wilson Machado)

Uma frota de centenas de táxis requisitados por soldados armados nas ruas de Paris - quase todos os veículos de aluguel da cidade - começou a se acumular no Boulevard des Invalides às 22h de 6 de setembro de 1914, para alarme dos parisienses. "Táxis em uma hora daquelas?", perguntavam alguns habitantes da cidade enquanto se preparavam para deixá-la, temendo uma invasão alemã na Primeira Guerra. Os carros, porém, eram preparados para seguir na direção inversa. Iriam ao front, revitalizar a defesa francesa com 6 mil militares, tentar deter os invasores a 60 km da capital e salvar a França. "Pelo menos não é um lugar comum", disse, divertido, o autor da ideia, o governador militar de Paris, general Joseph Gallieni. Não foi só questão de originalidade: a vitória francesa na Primeira Batalha do Marne marcou a virada do conflito e ajudou a prolongá-lo até a derrota alemã em 1918, colocando o motor a explosão no centro da arte da guerra.

Em setembro de 1914, a Alemanha estava a ponto de vencer a França com o Plano Schlieffen, uma estratégia de 1905. O objetivo era resolver um pesadelo que assombrava os alemães desde o século 19: enfrentar uma guerra em duas frentes, na França e na Rússia. Chefe do Estado-Maior alemão no início do século 20, Alfred von Schlieffen calculara que os russos levariam seis semanas para mobilizar as tropas. Planejara derrotar nesse tempo os franceses.

Os alemães entrariam pelo nordeste francês, conduziriam 90% de seus homens rumo ao sul, fariam uma curva e surpreenderiam pela retaguarda a parte do exército da França que seguia para a Alsácia e Lorena.

O avanço alemão foi rápido, derrotando os belgas e empurrando britânicos e franceses para dentro da França. Os alemães chegaram aos arredores de Paris, no que parecia uma repetição de conflitos europeus anteriores, resolvidos rapidamente. O 5º e o 6º Exércitos da França, além da Força Expedicionária Britânica, depois de empreender um recuo de dez dias, basearam-se no sul do Rio Marne. O governo francês deixou Paris, junto com 100 mil pessoas.

A cidade preparou-se para o cerco e provável rendição. "Nossa intenção é forçar os franceses na direção sudeste, a partir de Paris. O 1º Exército será responsável pela proteção de flanco", determinou o Comando Supremo alemão em mensagem às tropas em território francês.

O general Alexander von Kluck, que comandava o 1º Exército alemão, porém, considerava a manobra difícil e arriscada. Para a efetiva proteção do flanco da tropa e garantir as comunicações com o 2º Exército, comandado pelo general Karl von Bulow, von Kluck avaliava ser preciso ter, pelo menos, quatro divisões na ala direita alemã - o que não havia.

PAGOS PELA CORRIDA

Foi essa a chance que Gallieni - um improvável candidato a herói - agarrou. Aos 65 anos, ele nem deveria estar ali. Passara à reserva em abril de 1914 e foi reconvocado em agosto, depois que a guerra eclodiu. Idoso, com bigodes grossos, espetados e brancos, óculos metálicos redondos e conhecido pela falta de elegância, circulava com o uniforme largo desabotoado.

Naquele setembro de 1914, parecia destinado ao papel de general da humilhação, o comandante que entregaria Paris aos invasores. O reconhecimento aéreo, feito por pioneiros biplanos, convenceu Gallieni que poderia atacar as tropas alemãs pelo mal protegido flanco e deter seu avanço. O general tentou convencer os britânicos da viabilidade da manobra, mas ninguém queria levar a sério o "comediante", como alguns o chamavam. Mesmo o comandante-chefe do Exército francês, general Joseph-Cesáire Joffre, já avaliava a retirada para o sul, deixando Paris quase sem defesa. Um telefonema do governador ao chefe o convenceu a contra-atacar. "Mon coup de téléphone" (meu golpe de telefone), diria, mais tarde, Gallieni.

A contraofensiva foi convencional, ainda sem os táxis. Cento e cinquenta mil homens, sob comando do general Michel-Joseph Maunoury, atacaram o flanco direito das tropas alemãs, em 6 de setembro, e abriram uma brecha nas linhas do inimigo. No corredor criado entre o 1º e o 2º Exércitos alemães, penetrou a Força Expedicionária Britânica. O 5º Exército da França atacou o 2º Exército alemão. A manobra francesa parecia prestes a dar certo, quando reforços alemães, recém-chegados, ameaçaram fazer os alemães triunfar sobre Maunoury. Os franceses tinham tropas de reserva, mas o sistema ferroviário estava desmantelado, e não haveria tempo de marcharem até o front. Aparentemente, tudo acabara.

Não para Gallieni. O velho general, em seu quartel no Boulevard des Invalides, por volta de 20h de 6 de setembro, lembrou-se da frota de táxis que mandara reservar para a eventualidade de uma retirada. Por que não usá-la para levar soldados ao front em vez de fugir dele? Ordenou então que todos os táxis em circulação fossem requisitados - os números variam de 600 a 3 mil. Militares foram para as ruas, pararam os veículos onde passavam, solicitaram aos passageiros que descessem e ordenaram que fossem para o Invalides. Antes, explicaram que as corridas seriam pagas.

Duas horas depois, o Boulevard des Invalides estava lotado de táxis. O primeiro comboio foi para Tremblay-Les-Gonesse, pequena cidade próxima. Na manhã seguinte, mais carros foram para Gagny. Ao longo do dia 7, os veículos se agruparam em outros pontos e, à noite, sob comando do próprio Gallieni, rumaram em grupos para o front - em alta (para a época) velocidade - e cobrando pelo taxímetro. Chegaram na madrugada do dia 8 ao ponto onde as tropas alemães ameaçavam retomar o seu avanço. A batalha teve 250 mil baixas da França, cerca do mesmo número entre os alemães e mais de 12 mil entre os britânicos. Em 9 de setembro, os alemães iniciaram a retirada.

Joffre saudou a vitória em telegrama ao Ministério da Guerra: "Em toda parte o inimigo recua. Os alemães estão abandonando prisioneiros, feridos e material." Na mensagem, não havia uma palavra sobre os "Táxis do Marne" ou sobre Gallieni. Os motoristas voltaram a Paris e receberam pela corrida.


Fonte:
http://guiadoestudante.abril.com.br/taxis-exercito-frances-primeira-guerra-mundial-735023.shtml

Mais:
http://docs.google.com/file/d/0BxwrrqPyqsnIQWVWWDg3eXhpYjg

domingo, 7 de setembro de 2014

Cer

INSERBIA NEWS
August 15, 2014

Centenary of Battle of Cer

BELGRADE - The decisive stage of the Battle of Cer, which ended as the first major Allied victory in World War I - and one that was won by the Serbian forces - took place in the night between August 15 and 16, 1914.

The fact that tiny Serbia managed to defeat the Austro-Hungarian troops so comprehensively at Cer despite being at a great disadvantage in every sense was met with shock and disbelief in Vienna and Berlin, as well as with jubilation among the Allies, and Serbia's reputation grew unexpectedly.

Greatly exhausted by the Balkan Wars against Turkey and Bulgaria - which it won at the cost of many casualties - Serbia, a small country that was tired and in need of reconsolidation, was attacked by Austro-Hungary, which made no secret of its intention to destroy Serbia completely.

The reasoning of top officials in Vienna was that the perfect time has come to wipe weak Serbia off the map in what was expected to be a small war.

The Austrian Fifth Army began a forced march towards the Drina River in the Loznica area on August 12 as the Austro-Hungarian Second Army marched towards the Sava River in the area between Sremska Mitrovica and Sabac.

Squads of Serbian troops took up the fight on the two rivers, resisting the advance of an overwhelming, incomparably better-equipped Austro-Hungarian force for four days from August 12 to 15.

In the late afternoon of August 14, General Stepa Stepanovic, who was in command of the Second Army following the return of Field Marshal Radomir Putnik, received the order to retake Sabac.

In the morning hours of August 15, faced with an Austro-Hungarian onslaught towards Valjevo, the Serbian Supreme Command ordered the Third Army to block the path to Valjevo from the valley of the Jadar River in any way possible, while the Second Army was ordered to move towards Tekeris and attack the enemy's left flank.

There, on the south-western slopes of Mt. Cer near Tekeris, the two forces clashed heavily in the night between April 15 and 16, with the bitter fighting ending in a resolute Serbian victory.

The Austro-Hungarian 21st Division retreated and the 8th Corps followed suit - eventually, the Austro-Hungarian Fifth Army withdrew across the Drina.

Hit by panic after the Serbs had won surprise victories, the Austro-Hungarian troops were in a state of disarray and general low morale.

The army was defeated, fleeing in a reckless, wild and panicky fashion - a routed force, or rather, a scattered mob, was rushing towards the border in mindless fear, Egon Erwin Kisch - a famous journalist and intellectual who was with the Austro-Hungarian troops at the time - wrote in his diary sometime in late August 1914, portraying the atmosphere among his comrades.

It was the first major Allied victory in World War I.

With the exception of 4,500 prisoners of war, none of the approximately 200,000 Austro-Hungarian soldiers who had invaded Serbia remained in the country as Operation Cer ended on August 24.

The Austro-Hungarian casualties in the bloody fighting totalled 27,000, with around 16,500 Serbian soldiers put out of action, including 2,107 dead.

Operation Cer ended following a pursuit of the enemy troops all the way to the Drina and after the closing battles around Sabac on August 21-24, 1914.

In the wake of the resolute victory and his success as a commander, General Stepa Stepanovic was awarded the rank of field marshal.


Fonte:
http://inserbia.info/today/2014/08/centenary-of-battle-of-cer

Mais:
http://www.glassrbije.org/vr