Abstract
This article examines the relationship between commanders and chiefs of staff during the period of the Wars of German Unification and the entirety of the Kaiserreich. The practice of pairing up a commander and a chief of staff was one that was specific to Germany. Traditional scholarship holds that in many cases, it was really the chief of staff who did all the thinking, while the commander was nothing more than a front man. The primary example of this was the relationship between Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff. The problem is that unthinking historians have projected relationship of this particular duo on the rest of the imperial German army. One of the reasons for this was the presence of members of German royal families in high command positions. This article suggests that first, commanders, including royal family members, were far more influential than their chiefs of staff. In addition, the power wielded by chiefs of staff also reflected the nagging problem of battlefield communications, especially given the limitations of telephone and early wireless radio. Once these difficulties were eliminated by the collapse of the imperial regime, and the development of radio, the power of chiefs of staff was severely curbed by 1939. Thus, the relationship between commanders and chiefs of staff was at best a transitory phenomenon.
One of the most important relationships a commander has is that with the chief of staff. The chief of staff is the commander’s most important subordinate, as he manages the headquarters and its operations. The chief of staff should possess an understanding of the situation equal to that of the commander. In some situations, a commander can use a chief of staff (or other senior staff officers) as a ‘directed telescope’, to make sure that a subordinate commander conforms to a plan. In other cases, if the commander is not around, the chief of staff may have to make a major decision on the spot.
Different countries evolved staff systems over the course of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In almost all of these cases, however, the person who ultimately matters in the headquarters is the commander. The French, adhering to the Napoleonic model, certainly emphasized this. Maxime Weygand, for example, is noted for becoming the successor to Maurice Gamelin in 1940 as commander of the French armies, not for being Ferdinand Foch’s chief of staff for nine years. 1 The British followed their own tradition of emphasizing the commander, based on the careers of Wellington, Garnet Wolseley, and Herbert Horatio, Lord Kitchener. Thus, when one thinks of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) and command in World War I, the first name that comes to mind is Sir Douglas Haig, not Sir Launcelot Kiggell nor Sir Herbert Lawrence, Haig’s respective chiefs of staff. Likewise, the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) is always associated with the name of John Pershing, not James G. Harbord. 2 At Russia’s Stavka, although Nikolai Yanushkevich and Yuri Danilov exerted a great deal of influence, Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich was clearly regarded as the deciding authority, by both allies and opponents alike. 3
This image applies to the commanders of the field armies of these respective military establishments. Even the more casual students of the war will likely recognize names such as Sir Henry Rawlinson, Sir Julian Byng, Robert Bullard, Philippe Pétain, or Alexsei Brusilov, but be in the dark as to who their respective chiefs of staff were. Even in the Austro-Hungarian Army, where the chief of staff, Franz Baron Conrad von Hötzendorf, exercised de facto command as opposed to his nominal superior, Archduke Friedrich, the commanders of the field armies are much better known than their chiefs of staff.
The lone exception to this was the German Army of the Kaiserreich, and its Prussian antecedent. Over the course of the history of what ultimately became the Second Reich, staff officers often were regarded as more important than the commanders for whom they worked. This started with the inner circle of Helmuth von Moltke the Elder, Julius von Verdy du Vernois, Carl von Brandenstein, and Paul Bronsart von Schellendorf, sarcastically described by Otto von Bismarck as Moltke’s ‘demigods’. 4
This trend continued through the Great War and was carried forward by students of the war. The most notable of these relationships was that of Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff. By 1917, it was abundantly clear that it was Ludendorff who actually ran things. 5 Staff officers, such as Hermann von Kuhl and Fritz von Lossberg, became much better known figures than their respective superiors, most notably Alexander von Kluck and Crown Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria. Hans von Seeckt, aided by his post war notoriety as head of the Truppenamt (the de facto General Staff), became much more familiar to students of German military history than his most notable boss, August von Mackensen. 6 The last chief of staff for the German headquarters in the east, Oberbefehlshaber Ost (Ober Ost), the eternally grouchy Max Hoffmann, remains a much more renowned personality than his superior, Prince Leopold of Bavaria. 7 This article proposes to examine the reasons for this misunderstanding, while also placing it within the broader context of the German approach to war.
The relationship between a commander and his chief of staff arguably goes back to the Napoleonic Wars. Although a general staff had existed in an embryonic form as early as 1803, it attained a much more prominent role in the reforms instituted after the disaster of 1806. When Prussia took the field against Napoleon again in 1813, command was entrusted to a team. The commander was the bold, charismatic but eccentric Gebhard von Blücher. His chief of staff was the brilliant reformer, Gerhard von Scharnhorst. After Scharnhorst’s death, his position was filled by his colleague, August Wilhelm von Gneisenau. Blücher provided the fire and inspirational leadership, while Scharnhorst and Gneisenau did the thinking and planning. Blücher and Gneisenau proved to be an effective team, both during the 1813–1814 campaigns and the Waterloo campaign. 8
The elder Moltke sought to institutionalize this arrangement. In an essay on command that he worked on over a lengthy period, Moltke suggested that a commander have an advisor. The advisor’s position depended not so much on rank as on the commander’s confidence in the advisor’s judgement. This approach was retained throughout the nineteenth century, reinforced by unofficial efforts such as the guides written by Walter Bronsart von Schellendorf and August von Janson. 9
Moltke certainly got his way, at least at the top. To be sure, Wilhelm I was the de jure commander-in-chief of the Prussian Army. Officers in the Prussian Army swore an oath of loyalty to the king. This practice continued into the period of the Kaiserreich. The constitution of the North German Confederation, accepted by all of the confederation’s constituent states in December 1866, was imported as the legal basis of the new German Empire. The emperor (who was also the King of Prussia) was designated in the constitution as commander-in-chief of the armed forces. All officers swore their personal allegiance to the king/emperor. Only the War Minister (who also was an officer) swore allegiance to the constitution. 10
Although Moltke was in theory subordinate to the king, he won the trust of Wilhelm I. This trust was based on long personal acquaintance, as Moltke had served as Wilhelm I’s adjutant when the latter was still crown prince. In addition, Moltke’s sterling record, plus his own character, gave Wilhelm I a solid basis for trusting Moltke’s judgement. Thus, although Wilhelm I remained the commander- in-chief, he willingly delegated most decisions to Moltke, especially in regard to operational matters. 11 In regard to strategic and diplomatic issues, Wilhelm I generally let Chancellor Otto von Bismarck have his way, even though this meant having to agree to some ideas that were contrary to the king’s nature. 12
This system continued into the imperial period as well. During the long reign of Wilhelm I as emperor, the day-to-day running of the army was left to Moltke. This also applied to the matter of war planning. In that realm, Moltke and the Great General Staff reigned supreme, to the point that it was often done in complete segregation from the diplomatic policies being pursued by Bismarck. 13
Whether or not Friedrich III would have changed the relationship between the emperor and the chief of the general staff remains a moot question, given that he was on the throne for only 99 days. Wilhelm II, however, threatened to change the relationship between the emperor and the chief of the general staff in several ways. First, even though the new kaiser’s military experience was very limited, Wilhelm II demanded to play an active role in the annual manoeuvres. Alfred von Schlieffen was inclined to let him have his way, as this would allow Schlieffen to continue to retain Wilhelm II’s trust. 14
Schlieffen’s successor, Helmuth von Moltke the Younger (nephew of the victor of 1864, 1866 and 1870) was able to ease Wilhelm II out of an active role in the manoeuvres. Concerned about the kaiser’s lack of military experience and several missteps by Wilhelm II, Moltke was able to get the kaiser to promise that he would refrain from involving himself in operational matters. That did not stop Wilhelm from lashing out at Moltke occasionally, especially when things went wrong. 15
Thereafter the kaiser’s position steadily eroded. Erich von Falkenhayn, who was arguably the Chief of the General Staff with whom Wilhelm II was closest personally, kept operational matters away from the kaiser. Wilhelm II’s position reached its nadir when Hindenburg and Ludendorff inaugurated the third OHL. Ludendorff directed German strategy and operations, while Hindenburg was the front man. The duumvirate also controlled the civil government and its functions, regardless of their lack of competence in this respect. Wilhelm II was thus reduced to the status of the ‘shadow king’ (Schattenkönig). 16
While the position of the chief of the general staff vis-à-vis the monarch, be he king or emperor, was an established fact, too much has been made of it in regard to the army as a whole. Historians, especially from the inter-war period, have extrapolated from the examples at the top, plus the Hindenburg-Ludendorff combination as it operated earlier, first atop the Eighth Army and later at Ober Ost, and applied it across the entire army. Thus, not just Hindenburg and the kaiser, but commanders from echelons ranging from corps to army group, were regarded as the mouthpieces of their chiefs of staff. 17
The practice of teaming up a commander and a chief of staff throughout the royal/imperial period was influenced by two major considerations. The first was that the upper reaches of the Prussian and later imperial German officer corps was a very small world. Thus, especially during the elder Moltke’s tenure, careful consideration was given to pairing up a commander and a chief of staff, which was normally done by the King’s Military Cabinet. This practice extended from army group level down to the corps. 18
The second consideration that played an important role was an element of the Prusso/German way of war. In his fine work, The German Way of War, Robert Citino argues that Prussian and later German military campaigns from the seventeenth through the twentieth centuries were marked by the effort to achieve brevity and speed. A rapid campaign would culminate in a decisive battle of annihilation. Another hallmark was the idea of de-centralized command, exemplified by the grossly overused term Auftragstaktik. 19
Aside from the emphasis on speed, another important aspect was the personal participation of Prussian royal family members and other German royal families in military operations throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. While the actions of Friedrich II and Wilhelm I are, as already noted, well known, other members of the various royal families also did active military service. Prince Louis of Prussia, a nephew of Frederick the Great, eagerly took the field against Napoleon, and paid for it with his life at Saalfeld on 10 October 1806. Two of the three major Prussian commanders in both 1866 and 1870 were Prince Friedrich Karl, a cousin of Wilhelm I, and Crown Prince Friedrich. Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria (later Ludwig III) fought at Königgrätz against the Prussians, suffering a leg wound. 20
Given the already well established tradition of active military service in high positions by the royal families, it was no surprise that this continued into and throughout the imperial period. Military careers of the royal family members, however, were not the same as regular officers. The normal career track for an officer in the Prussian and later imperial German army involved rotating between staff and command assignments. Officers of marked ability might also gain admittance to the Kriegsakademie, after getting through a highly competitive entry process and a rigorous entrance examination. Members of the royal families, be they Hohenzollerns, Wittelsbachs, Wettins, or Württembergers, had rather different military tracks. 21 The positions they held were usually those of command. Prince Heinrich XIII of Reuss, for example, in a lengthy career that began in 1849 and extended to his retirement in 1890, did only two short stints in staff positions. 22 Even Wilhelm I (as crown prince) and Crown Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria, perhaps the two most professional of royal family members to serve, rarely if ever had to deal with the administrivia and drudgery of staff work. 23
The fact that in 1866 command would be entrusted to several members of the royal family ensured that each would have a carefully chosen and experienced chief of staff. This was particularly true of Crown Prince Friedrich in 1866, who at that time was regarded as a good soldier, but also an unknown quantity in regard to his ability as an army commander. 24 At the top, while Moltke was the principal decision maker, his position depended as much on consent as on authority. The king was still the de jure commander-in-chief. Thus, Moltke had to gain Wilhelm I’s assent before a final order could be issued. The practice of issuing orders over the King’s name clarified the issue of command authority, especially in 1866, when Moltke was still a relatively unknown general officer. The problem of orders going out in Moltke’s name was manifested in the comment of Albrecht von Manstein, commander of the 6th Infantry Division, asking just ‘who is this General Moltke?’ 25
The second thing to be recognized was how the personalities of Wilhelm I and Moltke complimented each other. They had known each other for a long time, from when Moltke had been assigned as Wilhelm’s adjutant when the king was still the crown prince. The king had an emotional personality, and was given at times to making decisions more on the basis of the passion of the moment, as opposed to sheer rational calculation. This was true in particularly stressful situations. This was almost the opposite of Moltke, who was the very essence of imperturbability. In regard to the common soldiery, Wilhelm I provided the element of fiery inspiration, something that was beyond the usually placid Moltke. 26
The approach to command employed by Wilhelm I and Moltke worked well at army level as well. Crown Prince Friedrich worked well with his chief of staff, the experienced Generalmajor Carl Constantine Graf von Blumenthal, and the two, already familiar with each other, developed a close working relationship. 27 The same applied to Prince Friedrich Karl and his chief of staff. The difference was that both princes, more than the commander of the Elbe Army, General der Infanterie Karl Herwarth von Bittenfeld, quickly established themselves as the deciding authority for their respective organizations. Nonetheless, the respective chiefs of staff, in keeping with established practice, did not hesitate to make decisions, if the commander was absent at the time a decision was needed. 28
The system worked well enough in 1866 that the Prussians replicated it in 1870. The Crown Prince was paired up again with Blumenthal, a team that Moltke could trust professionally, at least. Prince Friedrich Karl would have a new chief of staff, Friedrich von Stiehle. Moltke would ensure closer control of the Second Army by having the royal headquarters co-located with that of Prince Friedrich Karl. The most important appointment made was that of Colonel Ernst Karl Oskar von Sperling as chief of staff to the First Army commander, the able but rambunctious Karl von Steinmetz. To make sure the First Army would act in accordance with Moltke’s plans, he would work through Sperling. In the event, the command system employed by the Prussians worked much better than that of France, which by 1870 was a poor imitation of Napoleon’s practices. 29
The success of the Prussian system of command insured that it would continue into the imperial period. When war began in 1914, field commands would once again be entrusted to members of the various royal families. Three of Germany’s seven field armies in the west would be commanded by royals, Duke Albrecht of Württemberg, Crown Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria, and Crown Prince Wilhelm of Germany. The latter was the most controversial choice, as he got the position through sheer luck, when the original commander of the German Fifth Army, Hermann von Eichhorn, was sidelined with a severe injury in a riding accident. The Crown Prince was then inserted, even though the highest command he had held was at the division level. A short tour on the Great General Staff for ‘initiation and study’ could hardly qualify as adequate preparation for army command. 30
Given that none of the three royals had commanded at that level, each was given an experienced chief of staff, based on the normal criteria employed by the Military Cabinet in making such selections. Eichhorn’s injury also impacted the assignment of chiefs of staff. Duke Albrecht’s chief of staff was Walter von Lüttwitz, a stolid professional. Initially, Rupprecht’s chief of staff was to be Konstantin Schmidt von Knobelsdorf. With Eichhorn sidelined and the Crown Prince now slated to be Fifth Army commander, Knobelsdorf, who had been the Crown Prince’s Sherpa during Wilhelm’s short tenure with the General Staff, was shifted to the Fifth Army as the chief of staff, while Rupprecht received his fellow Bavarian, Konrad Krafft von Delmensingen, as his chief of staff. 31
The initial stages of the war reinforced the impression that the various chiefs of staff were the ones who drove the decision making. The tone in this regard was set by Wilhelm II, who admonished the Crown Prince that in regard to Knobelsdorf, ‘whatever he advises you must do’. Moltke had to remind the Crown Prince that ultimate deciding responsibility rested with him as the army commander. Likewise, in the German Sixth Army, at least initially, it seemed that Krafft was the driving force, not Crown Prince Rupprecht. Also, in the drive to the Marne, First Army chief of staff Hermann von Kuhl played a critical role in the decisions that ultimately resulted in German retreat in September 1914. 32
Once initial impressions are made, they can be hard to shake. The impression that chiefs of staff were the decision makers was reinforced by a couple of practices. The elder Moltke had suggested that headquarters communicate with a chief of staff directly, if circumstances warranted it. He did caution that the commander be informed as quickly as possible. 33 This practice continued during the Great War. The German high command, Oberste Heeres Leitung (OHL), be it headed by the younger Moltke, Erich von Falkenhayn, or Hindenburg and Ludendorff, regularly did this, for various reasons.
In the case of the younger Moltke, one can argue that he was trying to recreate the method employed by his more illustrious uncle. To some degree, this represented a realization on Moltke’s part that the communications technology available to him in 1914 was insufficient to enable close control over operations. In addition, Moltke, not in the best of health, would have a hard time keeping up with the gruelling physical demands of travelling to the various field army headquarters during a strenuous mobile campaign. Thus, Moltke, in an effort to mimic his uncle, used Gerhard Tappen, Wilhelm von Dommes, and most notably Richard Hentsch, to act in a similar capacity as the elder Moltke’s ‘demigods’ had two generations before. The results, however, were rather different in 1914 than they were in 1870. 34
The practice of OHL dealing directly with chiefs of staff continued during the tenure of Erich von Falkenhayn as Chief of the General Staff. In Falkenhayn’s case, the matter concerned rank and travel. When Falkenhayn was appointed Chief of the General Staff, he held the rank of Generalleutnant, the equivalent of a two star general in the United States Army. In contrast, Falkenhayn’s predecessor Moltke was a Generaloberst, which made him the equal to every other field army commander at the start of the war. Although Wilhelm II quickly promoted Falkenhayn again to General der Infanterie (equivalent to a three star American rank), Falkenhayn was still junior in rank to every German field army commander. 35
Although the German Army was not as concerned about the relation of rank and position, Falkenhayn’s rather junior rank did put him in an awkward position. Although Chief of the General Staff, Falkenhayn was inferior in rank to the commanders of Germany’s field armies, officers who ranged in rank from Generaloberst to Generalfeldmarschall. Matters were also not helped by the fact that he was also rather younger in age as well. Falkenhayn was, however, equal or superior in rank to the respective chiefs of staff of those commanders. In addition, Falkenhayn was given to exercising a much closer degree of control over operations than Moltke did. 36
Given these circumstances, Falkenhayn’s method of dealing with the problem was understandable. Normally, Falkenhayn preferred to use the telephone, and when he did, such conversations were held with the chief of staff. When Falkenhayn did travel, he often did so in the company of the kaiser. Thus, while protocol demanded that Wilhelm II would spend time with his commanders, Falkenhayn could hash out operational issues with the respective chief of staff. 37 A good example of this was OHL’s conduct of the 1915 campaign on the eastern front. On 19 June 1915, for example, OHL visited Mackensen’s Eleventh Army headquarters at Jaroslau. While Mackensen entertained his old friend Wilhelm II, Seeckt outlined to Falkenhayn his concept for follow on operations after the impending capture of Lemberg. 38
Erich Ludendorff, as the de facto power behind the third OHL, pursued a method similar to that of Falkenhayn. Also a General der Infanterie, Ludendorff was in a situation similar to that of his archenemy, Falkenhayn. Thus Ludendorff tended to deal directly with chiefs of staff of both army groups and armies. During 1917 and 1918, several critical conferences were convened by Ludendorff, a number of which were attended only by chiefs of staff. This practice gave Ludendorff the opportunity to bully some of these officers, while also avoiding higher ranking commanders such as Rupprecht, whose scepticism of Ludendorff’s ideas was well established. 39
Another practice on the part of OHL that seemed to elevate staff officers over commanders was the unrequested assignment of staff officers from OHL to a field army headquarters in an emergency situation. Early in the war, a commander’s relief was accompanied by the removal of the chief of staff as well. Thus, when Max von Prittwitz was removed as commander of the Eighth Army, his chief of staff, Georg von Waldersee, was also relieved. 40 As time went on, however, OHL began to remove staff officers, especially chiefs of staff, at times without consulting the commanders involved. In September 1915 Falkenhayn removed the chief of staff of the Third Army, Generalleutnant Maximilian Ritter von Höhn, replacing him with OHL staff officer (and defensive expert) Colonel Fritz von Lossberg. 41
Once the precedent had been established, it became a rather familiar practice, especially on the western front, where OHL exercised a very close hold on operations. Lossberg in particular, having become OHL’s expert on defence, was used by both Falkenhayn and Ludendorff to replace an army chief of staff in a critical sector. In effect, Lossberg became OHL’s defensive troubleshooter. Later on, Ludendorff inserted Georg Bruchmüller into several army staffs to deal with artillery preparation and support for various attacks in 1918, again, without the consultation or permission of the army or army group commanders involved. 42 This too served to enhance the image of the commander as the front man with the chief of staff as the driving force behind battles and operations.
The impression of commanders as front men for their chiefs of staff, often exacerbated by OHL’s own conduct, continued into the post war period. Writers often took the dynamics of the Hindenburg – Ludendorff relationship and projected it onto the German Army as a whole. A good example of this is the depiction of perhaps the second most notable German military marriage of the Great War, that of August von Mackensen and Hans von Seeckt. During the Gorlice-Tarnow operation, the Austro-Hungarian liaison officer assigned to Mackensen’s headquarters regarded Mackensen as being no more than Seeckt’s ‘mouthpiece’. This impression continued after the war. B.H. Liddell Hart described Seeckt as ‘Mackensen’s guiding brain’, while Charles Cruttwell depicted the relationship as akin to that of Blücher and Gneisenau. 43
Impressions can often be misleading, and this just such a case. The notion of commanders needing to rely on their chiefs of staff had no real validity in fact, certainly after the first few months of operations. In a short time Rupprecht, for example, quickly turned into a competent, confident and experienced commander, first of the Sixth Army and later an eponymous army group. While he never became the best tactician, Rupprecht’s insights on operational and even strategic issues were often considerably better founded than those of OHL. Even Crown Prince Wilhelm, whose initial experience in high level command was minimal, gained considerable confidence and experience, and arguably exceeded expectations in his performance over the course of the war. 44
Like their royal colleagues, other commanders also showed that while their chiefs of staff were important, they were the ultimate decision makers. Alfred Jansa, a young Austro-Hungarian staff officer assigned to the operations section of Mackensen’s headquarters for the invasion of Serbia, got the chance to observe Mackensen and Seeckt at close quarters. While Jansa noted that Mackensen and Seeckt always discussed major decisions in private, Jansa was convinced that Mackensen was the ultimate decider. Mackensen himself noted that it was incumbent on a commander to be completely familiar with any situation, so that when discussed with the chief of staff, the issues could be hashed out thoroughly, thus giving the commander the best basis for a decision. Seeckt noted that Mackensen’s range of both theoretical and practical knowledge was considerable. 45
The idea of commanders as front men for their chiefs of staff is refuted by simply examining the careers of those who did command during the war. As noted earlier, officers rotated between staff and command positions. Some commanders, from the highest to the lowest levels, such as Hindenburg (army), Ewald von Lochow (corps), and Ludwig von Estorff (division), to name a few, were Kriegsakademie graduates. 46 Officers who did not attend the Kriegsakademie, such as Mackensen, served tours on the Great General Staff. The officer corps of the Kaiserreich was also noted for an extraordinary output of military treatises, articles and scholarly monographs. All of these activities required a fair degree of intelligence at a minimum. Generals are normally promoted because of their intelligence, not in spite of it. 47
Another misunderstanding about the relationship between a commander and his chief of staff was its permanence, or lack thereof. The only pair that remained together for the entire war was Hindenburg and Ludendorff. As was noted earlier, a number of times OHL intervened to remove or insert a chief of staff for an army or army group. Sometimes commanders would have a chief of staff replaced at their own insistence. After Krafft left to take command of the newly formed Alpine Corps, OHL assigned a Prussian officer, Colonel Gustav von Lambsdorff, as Rupprecht’s chief of staff. Lambsdorff’s conduct proved sufficiently obnoxious personally and unsatisfactory professionally that Rupprecht was able to have OHL remove him as chief of staff in October 1915. Lambsdorff’s replacement, Hermann von Kuhl, proved far more amenable, and the two made an effective team for the rest of the war. Mackensen had several chiefs of staff, to include Seeckt, Richard Hentsch, Emil Hell, and Gerhard Tappen. All of them enjoyed a good working relationship with Mackensen. 48
The position of the chief of staff was also undermined by the advances in communication during the war and afterward. Throughout most of the period under discussion, communications at the higher levels of command were improved considerably by developments such as the telegraph. Communications with lower echelons, however, were problematic. Field telephones had a limited range of perhaps twenty-five miles, and the number of sets and quantity of wire available to a standard corps (sixty-two miles) proved grossly inadequate. The number of communications troops was also small in 1914. 49 The means and methods of communications increased in both size and capability over the course of the war. The number of officers and men assigned as communications troops by 1917 was more than seven times than that in 1914. While telephone had only limited utility on the western front, by 1915 German commanders in the east and the Balkans were able to maximize its effectiveness. During the invasion of Serbia in 1915, Jansa remarked at how much of the business of Mackensen’s army group headquarters was conducted by telephone. 50 Wireless radio also expanded in both usage and capability over the course of the war. This progress continued into the post war period. By 1928 the Reichswehr conducted a communications exercise involving all of its divisions, as well as higher headquarters. 51
The construct of the commander – chief of staff relationship as envisaged by the elder Moltke was based on the idea that if the commander was not present at headquarters when a decision had to be made, the chief of staff could do it, and inform the commander. The assumption here was that the commander was not easily reachable, thus the need for the chief of staff to fill the void. 52 The improvements in communication, especially in wireless radio technology, made it much easier for a commander to be hunted up for a decision. The advent of modern wireless technology made possible the realization of the image of a modern commander envisaged by Schlieffen before the Great War. 53
The relationship between a commander and a chief of staff changed quite a bit during the Third Reich. Of course, this change began at the top. Once Hindenburg died, Adolf Hitler combined the positions of Chancellor and President, taking the title of Führer of the German people. Unlike Wilhelm II and even Wilhelm I, Hitler was utterly unwilling to cede his authority as commander of Germany’s armed forces to a chief of staff. The new type of relationship between a commander and a chief of staff was extended from Hitler downwards. The conclusion of this trend came in 1939 with the appearance of the Handbook for General Staff Duty in War. Authored by Army Chief of the General Staff Franz Halder, the handbook greatly reduced the prerogatives of a chief of staff in regards to his commander than those available during the imperial period. 54
Thus, in World War II, the relationship between commanders and chiefs of staff was much more commander centric, and scholarship on the war has reflected this. To be sure, a chief of staff could still wield considerable authority, and at times made critical decisions in the absence of a commander. Perhaps the most notable of example of this was Siegfried Westphal recalling Erwin Rommel from his daring (if also reckless) ‘race to the wire’ in North Africa in late 1941. In World War I staff officers, such as Lossberg and Bruchmüller, were posted by OHL to particular positions because of their abilities. In World War II, that kind of role was played by commanders, dispatched by Hitler to various headquarters on the basis of similar criteria. Erich von Manstein, Walter Model, or even Lothar Rendulic, all serve as examples of this. 55
How then, can we conclude this brief examination of the relationship between a commander and a chief of staff? Ultimately it can be argued that the relationship between a commander and a chief of staff was a sui generis, whose life spanned that of the Kaiserreich. It was a system that was suited to meet the challenges created by the structure and practices of the Prussian and later imperial German armies, as well as by the absence of battlefield communications. The disappearance of the royal family and the advent of modern communications available to commanders changed the nature of the commander – chief of staff relationship for the German army. Thus, the power of the chief of staff was an important, but ultimately transitory element of the German way of war.
Footnotes
Author’s Note
The views presented here are solely those of the author, not those of the Department of Defence, Department of the Navy, or the United States Marine Corps.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
