1914-1924 'British interests; British honour; British obligations'

[Lord Jens]

Well don't stop now old man, it was beginning to get good.

[Allenby]

Originally Posted by Lord Jens

Well don't stop now old man, it was beginning to get good.

Well, the doctrine of 'supply and demand' always works well in my opinion

[Nuclear Winter]

Don´t be so brittish! Update, chap!

We are eager to know what fait awaits the B.E.F. and the Royal Navy!

God Save the King! God Save Allenby!

[Meltdown1986]

All hail thee, Allenby!












UPDATE!

[Wämö]

Allenby, you know you have too much time at your hands (I shouldn't say something, though )? I can't wait to read the entirity of this AAR, as soon as I get my fricking computer back from the doctor.

[Allenby]

At the outbreak of war, the Australian Labour Party leader, Andrew Fisher, who was born in Scotland, promised ‘our last man and last shilling in defence of the mother country’. It was with this enthusiasm that Britain’s self-governing dominions went to war in 1914. However, the Dominions were not immediately in a fit state to fight: the Australian regular army was a mere 3,000 strong; Canada’s being approximately of the same size, and New Zealand possessing a mere 300 regular soldiers. Yet where the Dominions lacked in material strength, they more than made up for in patriotic fervour, and an unshakeable belief that Britain’s war, was their war too. For in Australia, it would not be inaccurate to say that its people saw themselves as transplanted Britons – or ‘independent Australian Britons’ as Alfred Deakin put it. Australia was a relatively new nation – at least the ‘white’ component of it was according to the 1911 census, which revealed that the country was 96% ‘British’. Strong binds to the mother country ensured that the Australians embraced the imperial idea as enthusiastically as, and perhaps even with more vigour than Great Britain, whilst an innate fear of Japanese expansionism – ‘the yellow peril’ – ensured that Australia’s defence was inexorably linked to that of Britain. The enthusiasm for the empire at the outbreak of war in Australia was immense – an election was being fought at the very height of the July Crisis, but the issue of Europe did not even seriously feature. For it was simply assumed that if there was war, and Britain was involved, then Australia too would be at war. This remained true in both fact and sentiment, as when Britain did go to war with Germany, an official declaration was not even required by Australia – almost immediately, the Australian government went into action, setting its eyes northward to Germany’s Pacific possessions. Australia was not capable of defending herself and looked to the Royal Navy for protection, yet she acknowledged that her participation in the war would extend to more than just sweeping away the Kaiser’s distant colonies, a task which was to be completed with relative ease. Even before Britain had taken the step of going to war with Germany, the Australian government had offered its fleet (which as seen above, would be decisive in the Pacific theatre), as well as an expeditionary force of 20,000 volunteers, demonstrating the country’s solidarity with Britain. Australia was essentially a cohesive state, with the declaration of war acting as a force for unity. Even the most dissident of people – the Irish nationalists – put aside their feelings of rancour and rallied around the flag. Anti-German feeling ran strong through both Australia and New Zealand – street names and city districts with vaguely Germanic names suddenly found themselves renamed appropriately, while recruiting stations were choked with men who had had answered Britain’s call.

The Empire rallies the support of the mother country

Australian forces cleared through Germany’s colonies, entering Rabaul in mid-September, whilst Japan’s entry into the war had ensured that Germany’s islands in the north Pacific could be easily dealt with, although the Australian and New Zealand governments were wary of Japanese motives. With this relatively simple task completed, the advance guard of the 1st Australian Division began to assemble for shipment to the Western Hemisphere, whilst the groundwork was laid for the creation of a division of New Zealanders. The Australians were to be commanded by Major-General William Throsby Bridges, who ensured that his Australians were to be kept as a united force, and not dissipated among several British units as was done in the Boer War. Bridges was born in Scotland, and had an Australian mother. His father had been a captain in the Royal Navy, and his family spent a long time in Canada, where Bridges graduated from the Canadian Military Academy, where he then moved to Australia. He was a major during the Boer War, and also served on the Imperial General Staff. A quiet, reclusive person, Bridges was nonetheless a competent officer, and a solid choice as the commander of Australia’s first division. The New Zealanders were to be commanded by Major-General Alexander Godley, an Irishman with social graces that made him amenable to politicians. Having been to Sandhurst, Godley served in the Boer War and was sent in 1910 to run New Zealand’s army in order to introduce a system of compulsory military training. Godley, an able administrator, saw that New Zealand mobilised smoothly, and quicker than most countries, she was ready to fight the upcoming war. Unlike Australia, most of the New Zealanders’ division had previous experience in the military, but like Australia, the force went forth to war with patriotic zeal – a quarter of the initial force had been born in Britain.

Major-General William Bridges: commander of 1st Australian division

Like in Australia and New Zealand, support for Britain in Canada was steadfast. The early symbol of Canada’s commitment to empire came in the shape of the country’s Prime Minister, Robert Borden, who had defeated Sir Wilfrid Laurier’s Liberals in 1911. Borden was determined to have a hand in shaping Britain’s imperial policy, and when the Federated Malay States, Australia and New Zealand offered money for ships to be built for the Royal Navy – Malaya, Australia and New Zealand, respectively – Borden was determined to follow suit and fund the building of three Queen Elizabeth class battleships. However, when the Naval Aid Bill of 1912 came before the Liberal dominated Senate, it was blocked, leading to an unhappy compromise. Nevertheless, Borden remained committed to empire, and when war broke out in 1914, it was he and his Minister of Militia and Defense, Major-General Samuel Hughes, who would do much to ensure that Canada was ready to fight. Hughes had planned for the possibility of war, and was quick to organise the first Canadian contingent, which he was determined to keep as a united force, for he opposed Kitchener’s idea of using Canadian units to fill the gaps in the British order of battle. Hughes’ hard work paid off – the leading elements of the Canadian corps had arrived in France in October, and enthusiasm in which Canada went to fight was reflected in the composition of the force itself. Of the 30,617 men who sailed to France in October 1914, 20,000 were British born, and interestingly, 762 were American. Lieutenant-General Sir Edwin Alderson was put in command of the Canadian Corps, and although he was not a great field commander, he had proven in the past to be an efficient trainer of troops, and a man respected by Canadians: he had developed a healthy rapport with Canadian forces during the Boer War, and his ‘common touch’ would put him in good stead in the coming war. The Canadians also took with them a weapon of controversy: the .303 calibre Ross rifle, a firearm strongly advocated by Hughes, but looked upon with suspicion by Alderson and several Canadian officers, who glared with envy at how the British regulars had decimated several German units in the war’s opening battle with the Lee Enfield rifle. Disagreement over the Ross rifle would be costly in the future, but for now, the eagerness for the war allowed for disunity over the issue to be glossed over.

Prime Minister of Canada, Sir Robert Borden with Canadian officers

Lieutenant-General Alderson, commanding the newly arrived Canadians

One part of the empire where unity was lacking was South Africa. The wounds inflicted on South African society during the Boer War were still sore, with a significant proportion of Boers and Afrikaners meeting the news of war with derision. Whilst Australia and New Zealand looked to the Pacific for expansion, the South Africans, and particularly Jan Smuts, the War Minister, were gazing northward at Germany’s African possessions, with the intention of annexing them to the Union – the presence of Germany on the Cape’s doorstep had long been a thorn in the sides of Britain’s imperial planners, and more so to the South Africans – the German genocide of the Herero in 1904 had nearly precipitated an uprising of natives south of the Orange River. South Africa was the obvious candidate for occupying German South West Africa, and the pro-British leaders of the Union of South Africa, Botha and Smuts, hoped that this undertaking would unify their divided nation. Not so. The outbreak of war rekindled the flame of Afrikaner nationalism, who argued that Britain was the real enemy, not Germany. Germany, they pointed out, had been pro-Boer during the war of 1899-1902, and to give backing to Britain would be a betrayal of the support they had showed when they had fought to keep the Boer republics independent of British rule. However, much of Afrikaners’ opposition was not just motivated by dogmatic anti-British sentiment, but the emotive reasoning that South African forces, in any invasion of German South West Africa, would be forced to fight fellow Boers who had fled to the German colony in the aftermath of the Boer War. To the British declaration of fighting the war for the right of small nations, the Boers, with memories of fourteen years previously, were wholly unconvinced. Nevertheless, the plan of invading German South West Africa was quickly approved by parliament, and the path was cleared for an expedition to go north. However, the South African forces were not ready – no central command existed and an organisational structure was not present and furthermore, no plans existed for either offensive or defensive action. These deficiencies were not helped by the vicissitudes in the upper echelons of South Africa’s military circles. Beyers, the commandant-general of South Africa’s defence forces, and the most likely candidate to lead an invasion, announced his opposition to the planned invasion. He was joined by two other Boer veterans, Manie Maritz, district staff officer of the Northern Cape, and Jan Kemp, district staff officer of Western Transvaal. Wisely, Smuts decided to sack them, believing that it would be inimical to the campaign in German South West Africa, if troops were to be led by men who did not have faith in the plan of action. By dismissing them, Smuts successfully dissipated their authority and managed to offset a rebellion that would undoubtedly hindered South Africa’s ability to launch its campaign against the Germans.

In the absence of Beyers, the Prime Minister of South Africa, General Louis Botha, took command himself, and rapidly organised a force for the invasion, working arduously to see the force well supplied and well commanded. In late September, Botha began to move his force from its base at Upington, to take it across the Orange River and into German South West Africa. At his disposal Botha had a collection of both mounted and dismounted riflemen, but used those on horseback to scout ahead and reconnoitre for German positions. Botha’s first objective was the port of Lüderitz, from which, he reasoned, his force could be better supplied. It was not long before the South Africans began to meet stern resistance from the Germans: at Kalkfontein, a pitched battle was fought in which the outnumbered Germans were compelled to drop back, whilst a detachment of Germans entrenched in the Little Karas Mountains were forced to surrender after the South Africans’ skilful use of artillery. The Germans, having been beaten in the initial phases of operations, began to move north along the colony’s central railway line, linking Keetmanshoop and Windhoek. Without fortifications, the defenders of Lüderitz were forced to improvise, making use of biscuit tins and wooden carts, yet the South Africans had the advantage of support provided by Royal Navy vessels, who shelled the coastal town sporadically. On 11th October 1914, the South African forces were on the outskirts of the town, and after a brief fight, Lüderitz was surrendered, and Botha entered the German built town hall later that evening. Almost immediately, Botha and his staff began to plan for an advance northwards.

By 7th October, the van of the Australian and New Zealand divisions had arrived in Egypt and were already being organised into an army corps – ‘ANZAC’ – to be commanded by Lieutenant-General Sir William ‘Birdy’ Birdwood, an officer with experience in India and a protégé of Kitchener. With the ANZACs assembled, the only question to remain would be what to do with them.

The ANZACs arrive in Egypt

[Zuckergußgebäck]

Allenby, those thin black lines in the map over German east-africe, are they strategic railroads?


Great job!

[Allenby]

Originally Posted by Zuckergußgebäck

Allenby, those thin black lines in the map over German east-africe, are they strategic railroads?

Yes

I ought to update the map with a 'Key' to get that point across.

[Allenby]

Right, I've updated the map.

Christ, I'm getting bored of this

[Lord G. Q. White]

Really excellent update.

Thanks for the maps.

[Aldo]

Brilliant AAR. Gives much enjoyable reading. Thank you Allenby.

[rollothepirate]

Only this AAR could make the deployment of 2 Infantry divisions to Egypt so entrancing! Great job Allenby, especially with your description of the naval battles, it would fight right in a Massey account. Keep updating and let Empire prevail!

[Pud237]

Great update. Don't give up. Have you had any award nominations yet?

[Allenby]

Originally Posted by Pud237

Great update. Don't give up. Have you had any award nominations yet?

I've not

Originally Posted by Lord G. Q. White

Thanks for the maps.

A pleasure.


Thank you for your complements, all!

[Allenby]

Germany, aiming to be a world power in the truest sense, had stationed two significant naval vessels in the Adriatic, in order to influence the Mediterranean powers, particularly Turkey and Italy. Admiral Wilhelm Souchon commanded the Mittelmeerdivision, comprising of the powerful battlecruiser Goeben and the light cruiser Breslau, and when hostilities with France and Britain commenced, he assessed the options available to him. Unfortunately for Souchon, his options were severely restricted by the state of the Goeben, which had been in Southern Europe for two years, and had not visited a dry dock since its journey from Germany.

With leaking boiler tubes, her speed was restricted, and it was decided by the German Navy to keep the vessels in its Austrian base of Pola until they were ready. The Goeben’s crew worked assiduously to repair the ship, and by late August, were ready to sail and move into the Mediterranean in order to harass French shipping. The enemies put before Souchon were considerable in strength: at Malta lay the British Mediterranean Fleet, commanded by Admiral Sir Berkeley Milne, spearheaded by three battlecruisers and several armoured cruisers. At Toulon lay the French Mediterranean Fleet, commanded by Admiral Boue de Lapeyrere, and led by two new dreadnoughts. Souchon was aware that if he were to even survive, that he would have to make good use of his ships’ superior speed, for it was clear that he would be doomed if the British and French fleets managed to combine. The difficulties concerning Goeben’s boiler tubes had put Souchon in a quandary, for he now effectively found himself bottled up in the Adriatic – a less courageous commander would have kept his ships confined to the safety of Austro-Hungarian port, but Souchon was determined to uphold the integrity of the navy, and prove to the British that the German fleet existed for more than cold war and diplomatic standoffs. Fortunately for Souchon, his British counterpart, Milne was not resolved to quick and decisive action.

Yet he was not helped by the garbled orders emanating from Churchill’s pen – orders which were fully supported by the First Sea Lord, Prince Louis of Battenberg. Whilst ordering Milne to ensure that no German vessels leave the Adriatic, he also explicitly instructed him to not venture too far into Austro-Hungarian waters, for fear of encountering a numerically superior enemy. Milne was viewed unfavourably by many naval officers who attributed his success to his close relations to the royal family – he had spent ten years serving with royal yachts – and his conduct regarding the Goeben and Breslau would not serve to endear him further. Admiral Haus, commanding the Austro-Hungarian fleet from his flagship Viribus Unitis, put his fleet to sea with the intention of securing Souchon’s exit from the Adriatic, whilst Milne gingerly approached the Strait of Otranto, with Churchill’s mixed messages playing upon his mind: how exactly was he going to stop the Germans from breaking out into the Mediterranean whilst not encountering the Austro-Hungarians?

Correctly, Churchill had told Milne not to engage superior forces, but the order to sink Goeben and Breslau could only logically be carried through if the two German ships came out on their own. This however, was not the case, and Milne found himself without the support of de Lapeyrere’s French fleet. Thus, when Milne sighted a fleet of dreadnoughts sailing in echelon, flying the red, white and green of the Austro-Hungarian navy, with Souchon’s ships behind them, he was compelled to keep a safe distance, and watch helplessly as they sailed into the Ionian Sea. Milne was irritated – had Nelson not taken on superior numbers, and won at Trafalgar? He certainly had, but Milne was no Nelson, and he was under strict orders. Attacking with his battlecruisers would have been a brave act, but he knew that the Admirality would not approve of having to send replacements from the North Sea should any of his ships be sunk. However, Milne was not going to give up, and decided to shadow the Austro-German fleet as it ploughed through the glimmering waters of the Mediterranean Sea, until the Austrian ships, having seen Souchon out of the Adriatic, began to turn and sail for Pola. Germanic unity, it seemed, would only go too far.

For Haus recognised that while he may have had superiority in numbers locally, he would also be increasingly vulnerable the further he got from Pola. Knowing that the French fleet was somewhere westward, and that the British were following somewhere at the rear, Haus, not wanting to be trapped in the jaws of a vice, extricated his fleet, signalled to Souchon a message of good luck, and headed back homeward. Now Souchon was on his own, and would have to rely on his ships’ superior speed to ensure his survival – his plan was simple, if ambitious: sink French shipping in the Mediterranean, especially any troop transports, before turning eastward and sailing for Constantinople to entice Turkey into the war. Souchon took the Goeben and Breslau through the Straits of Messina, whilst Milne struggled to keep pace. Despite now having numerical superiority, Milne was unable to get within range of his German prey, despite imploring the men in the engine room to work devotedly to increase the speed of his ships. Eventually, Souchon moved out of sight, the last opportunity to attack having vanished.

Just nine days after the Dresden arrived in Wilhelmshaven on 30th August, another embarrassment had come for the Royal Navy: that two German ships could have avoided them without a shot being fired caused dismay in London. “Milne”, Fisher declared was “a backstairs cad” and should “be shot like Admiral Byng in 1757”. Milne, whose dictum was “they don't pay me to think, they pay me to be an Admiral” could have pointed to the orders given to him by Churchill/Prince Louis in his defence, but for now, the public spotlight was on him. To those who were so used to stories of Nelsonian dash, the news that Milne didn’t even offer battle appalled them.

Admiral Sir Berkeley Milne – “Arky-Barky” to his friends

That the Goeben and Breslau were then destroyed by de Lapeyrere on 10th September north of Corsica did not register with those asking what was wrong with the Royal Navy’s conduct. If anything, that the auld enemy, the French had succeeded where the British had failed made matters worse, for it was they who had shown the spirit of Nelson and St. Vincent, whilst the Royal Navy had inaudibly crept through the Mediterranean, determined not to sustain a single scratch. A perception had begun to grow that something in the navy was not quite right, and although there had been considerable successes, the reverses were given much more publicity. The victory at the Waddenzee had been personalised publicly, to a great degree, by Jellicoe and Beatty, who emerged as heroes, whilst the feeling of being violated in the Channel in the opening days of the war, still rankled with the British people. The Daily Mail’s headline “Who sacrificed the Channel Fleet?” was undoubtedly an exaggeration, but Burney, who had commanded the fleet in that infamous battle, remained unscathed as he emerged, battered, bruised and as the tragic victim of the Admiralty’s strategic blundering: although Burney lost, at least he fought, it was reckoned. Burney could only do as well as he could have with the ships he was given. Why didn’t the Admiralty foresee a German raid into the Channel? These themes were still being pored over, a full two months after the battle had been fought, and it didn’t just extend to the battle of the Channel. Prince Heinrich’s cruisers had disappeared into the Atlantic, Dresden evaded her pursuers and reached Germany, with the Kaiser lording it over the Royal Navy, and now Goeben and Breslau had escaped Milne without trouble. Someone, it was believed, must be to blame.

Goeben:escaped the British, but could not avoid the French

It wasn’t just Milne who took the public and press’ condemnation – Churchill and Prince Louis bore some of the ire too. The former was flamboyant, youthful and mistrusted by a great deal – he had crossed the floor over Imperial Preference, much to Chamberlain’s dismay in 1904, and was seen by many naval officers as an amateur who dabbled in strategy too often. Yet Asquith retained him, due largely to the lack of an obvious replacement. But if Churchill was seen as erratic, Battenberg committed a much greater crime in the atmosphere of Britain’s war enthusiasm: being seen as German. Prince Louis of Battenberg was born in Austria, was the son of Prince Alexander of Hesse and the Rhine, spoke English with a German accent and owned several estates in Germany. He was the obvious target for people’s anger, and amidst some spectacular naval blunders, it was inevitable that people were going to target him for his German background. Yet anti-German sentiment was not a new experience to Prince Louis, as he had suffered the jibes of fellow sailors and officers throughout his distinguished career – only when he found himself at the very pinnacle of the Admiralty did this begin to take its toll. Unfairly, officers had explained Prince Louis’ rise through the naval ranks by pointing to his connections to royalty, yet he was seen by some, including prominent politicians, as the navy’s most able officer. He had reached the Admiralty’s highest position through merit, and undoubtedly attracted the jealousy of Lord Charles Beresford, who not only capped his career without being promoted Admiral of the Fleet, but also having never been First Sea Lord. Beresford was uncomfortable with being known as the navy’s ‘second man’, as he had constantly stood in the shadow of his illustrious counterpart, Jacky Fisher. The Fisher-Beresford feud had split the navy into two rival camps, and with Battenberg firmly in the ‘Fisher camp’, he presented himself as an easy target for Beresford and his followers.

Lord Charles Beresford led the attack on Prince Louis

Beresford was quick to criticise Prince Louis in the press, sending several letters to the Times and the Morning Post disparaging his record as an officer and as First Sea Lord, and making demands that he resign because of his background. People were quick to point out that Prince Heinrich, commanding Germany’s gallivanting Baltic squadron, was Prince Louis’ brother-in-law – “can people seriously think that Prince Louis of Battenberg can devotedly work towards seeing the sinking of a relation, without holding back?” asked an angry Beresford, stoking the fires of hostility. The escape of the Dresden and the inability of the British Mediterranean Fleet to sink the Goeben and Breslau was unreasonably put down to Prince Louis – had he let them escape on purpose? Was he a spy? Such ridiculous ideas were not ruled out by a nation which was experiencing a surge of jingoism amidst the first few months of war. Yet it was not just the clamouring press and public that was edging Prince Louis out – his failing health and bouts of severe depression were beginning to catch up on him, ensuring that work became arduous, with decision-making nearly impossible. Embattled and unwell, pleading to be relieved, Churchill assented on the morning that Prince Louis learned that his nephew had died in France – he signed his resignation on 24th October. In the aftermath, there was immense sympathy for Prince Louis in many quarters – especially from the Labour Party, Lord Fisher and Sir John Jellicoe, who expressed their dismay at the campaign launched against Prince Louis. While some reflected upon what happened, and a feeling of guilt came across some, Churchill began to look for a successor. In his mind, there was only man who could take Prince Louis’ place.

[StephenT]

Originally Posted by Allenby

Churchill began to look for a successor. In his mind, there was only man who could take Prince Louis’ place.

Himself!

But since Churchill has no naval rank, he'll probably have to settle for old Jackie instead...

[Zuckergußgebäck]

Hmmmm... when will the breakthrough at land be achieved? Russia needs your help, Allenby, you cannot let them down!

To make your AAR more readable, I suggest dividing it up in sections with blank rows in between. Not just having it in one long text.

[Allenby]

Originally Posted by Zuckergußgebäck

To make your AAR more readable, I suggest dividing it up in sections with blank rows in between. Not just having it in one long text.

Why bother? You've probably read that long first paragraph already, and you aren't going to read it again.

[Zuckergußgebäck]

Originally Posted by Allenby

Why bother? You've probably read that long first paragraph already, and you aren't going to read it again.

The sole reason I want you to bother is to remember this to the next update.

[Allenby]

Originally Posted by Zuckergußgebäck

The sole reason I want you to bother is to remember this to the next update.

There we are. Done The first paragraph has been divided into thirteen smaller ones, which are, I am sure, much easier to read.