PROGRESS OF THE WAR

New Zealand Times, Volume XLII, Issue 9789, 12 October 1917, Page 4

PROGRESS OF THE WAR

“A great readjustment of tho front” the correspondents call the fourth pbaso of tho Third Battle of Yprcs. Whatever it may be called, this phase, like its predecessors, has taken vengeance for the British losses ot 1914 and 1915 on this ground, with frightful slaughter. Tho readjustment, according to the frank admisson of Sir Douglas Haig, includes a setback of the advanced line on the British left for a short distance on a front of 2000 yards. The correspondents treat it as a withdrawal for the consolidation of tho front. Call it what you will, the withdrawal is a slight thing. The account of Mr Fercival Phillips explains it quite well. In the region between Poolcapelle and tbe Houthoulst Mood tho Staden railway passes through on an embankment raised above the plain. There are canals also whioh flow between banks above the plain. Ihe constant shell fire, knocking boles the canal banks, inundated the plain, making the British advance difficult. In addition, the railway embankment does not appear to have suffered, and it remained a strong shelter for tho enemy’s machine-guns. The difficulty of advance against the wood is obvious. So, therefore, is the fall back a short distance —just above tho flood waters, wo presume—on that front of 2000 yards. The letting out of the water was unforeseen, and will cause delay. But the big wood is doomed nevertheless.

Tho French did, very well beyond this slight check in the line, punishing heavily a newly-arrived German division, that was taking over the wood. The wood, it comes out incidentally, is, if not untenable, quite uninhabitable by the combined unhealthiness of a waterlogged site and endless shell fire. Tbe enemy’s retention under the circumstances proves that he is what might be called sparring for a general retreat, beginning in the north and extending gradually southward.

Tho British advance against Passcbondaele has relieved tho pressure on Broodseindo, which is called the point of the British salient. A better name would be the point of the wedge. The pressure was great on the point, but on one side it has been thrown back ©n’birely. On tEe oth©r tlio British have straightened the lino back as far as Polderhoek, which is close to tbe Menin road, the line running at a sharp angle southward from Broodseinde.

* • • The enemy has found strength to counter, and of course that strength has been directed at that part of our line which suffered the setback at Poeloapelle, and at Broodseinde, where the consolidation gave a good opening. But he paid as Usual, and got nothing as usual, being reminded of the truth dinned into him by an Army Order that no known method of defence is valid against the. British advance.

Whether the battle is called a battle or an adjustment, there is no doubt about the nature of our victory. Bv 8 o’clock in the morning the greater part of the objectives were in our hands, and the enemy never had a hope of getting them back. In places he fought very hard, so hard that there was at times prolonged bayonet fighting. But the resistance availed him nothing. His main lines fell at once, and the “pockets” left behind by the advance and the forts were carried af- ( ter some sharp work. But everywhere is was for tbe enemy the same story of defeat and slaughter and lost ground. It is evident, too, that he does not yet know the British temper. In the rain and wind he thought himself safe, imagining that no troops could think of moving Under such conditions. But our men wanted no hint. They wore eager for the attack. The ground was boggy; there was water below and a gale of wind aloft. Nevertheless they insisted on attacking, and attack they did, much to the surprise of the enemy, who was caught in • the awkward moment of relieving his exhausted defence.

This moment of established BritisH ascendancy is chosen by a French Commission to review the recent course of the campaign. It is a moderate, wellreasoned sort of review. It declares that the tide has turned very decidedly against the enemy, and is running strong against him. Ho will never recover, hut he has great strength still, and will offer a desperate and prolonged resistance. Ho will. not be broken, this Commission thinks, but will be eventually hopelessly worn out. Decision, however, tho Commission thinks, will be reached in 1918, but it did not use tho word; it is careful to predict only that the campaign will attain decisive character in 1918. This French Commission, in fact, cannot bring itself to seo that tbe war will end in 1918, even with the help of the American armies, which are sure to come in that* year. This is prudence, and it is authoritative. We cannot help thinking that it is also a little pessimistic.

There is a school which thinks this way, and even more so. The leaders of the British Army do not think with them. On the contrary their creed is to be seen in the immense cavalry force they Lave provided. It is described as one of tbe finest assemblies of horsemen ever seen, and the exercise and practice is incessant, both men and horses being in condition ot tho verv fittest. Already they do useful work, for in the present stage of the war many a German hatterv shelling our infantry m placid methodical; contentment has found itself suddenly charged, sabred, and dispersed bv a whirlwind troop of horse which always loaves the guns breechless and otherwise damaged. This maintenance of the cavalry arm is regarded as the strongest proof of the opmion of our generals that they will win easily soon. # #

The idea is that the day of open fighting is at hand, in which the cavalry will justifv their existence by most rapid, brilliant, and valmible sorvjoo. The prudentials dende these bodies of horse. Very fuperb, very splendidly-disciplined and mobile, most imposing; but dr-stir yd T o eat their heads off. “For the simple reason, my dear sir, that there will never be open war on the West.” Mesopotamia, they declare, is the only place where open battle is possible, except Pales-

tine, but in Palestine the trench has already descended on 'rati and barred the road against open war. There will be no open fighting; there will always bo trenches; there will be no opening for cavalry, and armies that cannot hold their trenches will always bo able to move unimpeded to other Trenches that offer thorn better chance.-. Such is the theory. It relies on a single basic fact. A soldier can, and does, dig a trench five feet long, two foot wide, three feet deep in one hour. Tho first brick coarse on this foundation is a calculation of the formidable sort of trench protection that an infantry division can set up for itself in between thirty an i sixty minutes. “Whore’s your cavalry, now?” is the top of the superstructure.

The theory looks well on paper. But does anybody suppose that Marshal Haig—a great cavalry leader in his day—and Sir William Robertson, who went up by the cavalry ladder to the highest command from tiro lowest rung of the Sixteenth lancers, and others who are in tho thick of the war—-does anyone suppose that these men do not know what an infantry soldier can do with a spade? Their faith in the cavalry arm is a better guide than, the pessimistic gentleman who has no soul above paper.

There was a tame once, when it was firmly held that every man who fell into water out of his depth must drown. But men learnt to swim. There was a time when Bloch said that trenches were impregnable. Germans, not being able to turn anybody out of trenches became disciples of Bloch, and waited serenely from Ypres to the Somme to strafe easily anything that might come against them. But British and French soldiers learnt how to take trenches, and at the top of the anti-Bloch theory floats the question, “Where are those Bosches, and where are those trenches?” It follows that when the omnipotent spade goes out of its trench in the hands of the all-scien-tific Bofiohe, British and French cavalrymen will find a way of putting that spade into a museum and its wonderful owner under a six-foot section of land, just a foot longer than the basic fact of the cock-sure pessimists.

Tho latest nocount gives us again the explanation of tho slight withdrawal of tho line. Tho ground was a quagmire, and was quitted therefore. The enemy did not repulse our people. That, however, is not the cream of the latest account. The wonderful teat of tho Lancashires supplies it. Their long march over most difficult country, carrying heavy packs, without rest oi food, and their taking a great part in the attack nevertheless, makes one of the great stories of the war. But it is not without its reverse side. The need for that great strain may imply imperfection of tho preparative work. But when the work has always been so good we prefer to conclude that the necessity of the weather made it necessary to start the attack before everything was ready, lest delay might have prevented any advance at all. What ie somewhat disquieting is that the weather may greatly delay the great turning move. As to that, we ■note that the French have extended their 'oft, and are beginning to get round tho hig wood. That is certainly encouraging. -

Germany is suddenly confronted with a mutiny in the High Seas Fleet, which was great enough to involve four battleships and a cruiser. The perspective cannot be got yet of this movement, which is imputed partly to the Independent Socialists and partly to bad food. There was a difficulty in quelling the mutineers, and at one moment it looked like ‘'touch and go.” It appears that this was not the only disturbance of the kind, and it is admitted that even troops at the Xront were affected. In this connection the extremely careful statement of Admiral Capolle is very suggestive. The Admiral was reticent, especially about the front, and one wonders why, as the fleet is not at the front, he mentioned the front at all. His declaration that the reports were exaggerated looks like concealment rather than denial. The tone of the German newspapers, quoted to-day, reflects the same attitude, as of persons with more knowledge than they care to communicate. Then there is the most suggestive thing of all, the refusal to obey the very drastic order of the Kaiser to shoot one man in seven—the severest thing in history, declination — the practice in the old Roman armies —being the severest recorded. The substitution of mildness for rigour m the Prussian system, which is the embodiment of Draconianism, with the sullen acquiescence of the All Highest, who prides himself on the Attila model, is very suggestive indeed. Admiral Bridge is probably right in his view that this big smoke means a big fire. The consternation throughout Germany shows that the Admiral is not alone in this view, though ho is the only one who has spoken out. We shall probably get the right perspective before many days.